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deanbrainrotwritings · 1 year

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— BOULEVARD OF BROKEN DREAMS

SUMMARY : sharing a room with sam when dean has the sex drive that he has usually means he has to be quiet when he’s doing the dirty with his girl.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester

WARNINGS : smut, nsfw (18+), fluff, alcohol, sub!dean, exhibitionism tbh, ✨saliva✨

WORD COUNT : 2.9k

A/N : title from green day’s song. I believe in subby dean and I love him! so, here’s the first dean fic I wanna share. I really appreciate y’all :’) Xx

Dean grunted softly as he moved his hand up and down his cock. He smirked beside him at his sleeping girlfriend, and then looked ahead at the silhouette of his hand beneath the sheets moving up and down, outlined by the street light shining through the thin curtains. The sound of the sheets ruffling was loud in the nighttime, almost muffling the sound of his cock, and he carefully shoved the sheets off himself while keeping Y/N blanketed.

He closed his eyes, bit his lip and started to picture Y/N sucking his dick. He pictured her awake comfortably naked between his legs with her hot mouth wrapped around him. It was more exciting knowing that she was sleeping next to him, that he was imagining her pleasuring him the way he knew she could if she were awake. He was so turned on, but he was mostly teasing himself, being quiet enough that Sam wouldn’t wake up, but loud enough so that Y/N would.

Sam had gotten drunk with Dean, but unlike Dean, he blacked out as soon as his overgrown body hit the bed. That meant nothing was waking Sam up anytime soon, not a monster, not an apocalypse, not even the way Dean panted trying to get himself off. He didn’t mind edging himself a bit longer, he was willing to wait as long as he had to before she woke up and gave him what he needed. And he needed her real bad, so he wasn’t gonna stop, but he wasn’t gonna let himself finish either.

After the hunt, a successful case of killing a pack of werewolves in the woods, Dean decided to take Y/N and Sam out for drinks. The thing was, when Dean got drunk, he became more clingy than usual and he would start acting cute. He remembered bits and pieces of what he did when he was drunk. From getting her into his lap while he talked to Sam and some random hunter in a green, leathery booth. To the way he clung to her the whole time, when he’d drunkenly gone and played pool with a bunch of idiot college students trying and successfully hustling them.

He remembered constantly kissing her cheek, holding her soft face in his hands to make out with her when he dragged her around the bar finding different things to do with himself. And he remembered flirting with her. He remembered that cute little smile on her face and the even more adorable blush that painted her cheeks when he gave her his famous smoulder.

He remembered that she’d stopped drinking after just one drink. She was taking care of him and Sam. She’d driven them back to the motel and she babied him into bed despite the fact that he was trying to seduce her. He blushed at the memory, the way he kissed her neck and groped her beautiful body, making it hard for her to take his clothes off so he could sleep comfortably.

He moaned softly at a particular twist around his cock, and he changed his fantasy, preferring to imagine all the dirty things Y/N would say to him as she fucked him. He could faintly remember how her walls felt around him, her sweaty body pressed against his, setting his skin on fire with her touch. Her name fell from his lips, spilled into the quiet room, and she shifted beside him at last. He whispered her name again and again, praying that she would wake up and make him cum herself.

He slowed the pace in which he jerked himself off when she nuzzled into his bicep, her soft lips still against his tense muscle. She mumbled something against his skin, but could only hear the sleep in her voice and was unable to decipher a word she said. He gazed down at her and squinted his eyes to make out her face, but he couldn’t see much as she was shadowed by his body. He only felt her hand move down his chest, warm and soft against his body. He gasped, squirmed when she brushed her fingertips against his tummy, and squeezed his eyes shut when she wrapped her small hand over his.

“You’re so loud,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“Y/N,” he moaned, letting her fingers replace his. She stroked him lazily, felt her little smirk against his arm when he moved his hips up in search of more friction. “Please,” he whined quietly. He turned his whole body to face her so she changed her hand’s position, squeezing his cock torturously and rubbing her thumb over the leaking slit of his cockhead. “I can’t,” he gasped, pressing his forehead against hers.

She let go of his cock and pressed her lips firmly against his, “I’ve got you, baby,” she murmured against his mouth. His fingers dug into her waist, pulling her closer to him. “What do you want? Tell me, Dean,” she teased, moving her lips along his jaw and neck, thrilled to hear his heavy breaths.

“You,” he whispered, “I need you, need to be inside you right now,” he moaned. He pawed at her hips and started to tug her underwear down impatiently. She giggled, helped him get them off her, and laughed when he hung them over the lamp. He smiled softly at the sound and moved on top of her, settling between her opened legs before he leaned down to kiss her.

He slid his cock through her wet folds, felt her wiggle her hips, and gasp against his mouth when he pressed the head of his cock against her clit. “I thought you were too needy,” she whined playfully. He felt her pout against his lips and pulled away slightly attempting to make her face out in the darkness, only the yellow glow from outside illuminated her. He chuckled at her and grasped her hip, pinning her down to the mattress as he panted against her parted lips.

“You’re such a little tease,” he laughed softly, smirking at her when he sat back on his legs, lifting her legs onto his thighs.

He used the streetlight to guide his cock to her slick entrance, his plump lips parting with satisfaction at the sight of her glistening cunt stretching around his cockhead. He slid into her smoothly and he stared—utterly enchanted, as she took every inch of him until he was buried fully in her warmth.

“Like that?” He asked smugly and she rolled her eyes, her hands flexing on her thighs, squirming from how big he was. Dean smirked down at her when he noticed, swivelling his hips tortuously just to feel the clench of her walls around him. He collected saliva in his mouth and watched it drip down to her pussy, right on her folds.

He licked his lips to clear the lingering spit on his swollen lips and brought his thumb to her clit to smear his saliva over the sensitive nerve. He gently moved his hips against her, turned on at the sight of the black shirt she wore haphazardly scrunched around her waist from the angle he had her positioned in.

He leaned over her, placed his arm by her head, and dropped loving kisses along her jaw. Her heavy breaths mingled with his, the only sound bouncing off the cheap walls besides the gentle sound of the bedsprings. He used various methods to massage her clit until she was squirming beneath him again. Her walls continued to pulse around him, wet, warm, and driving him crazy. “I’m not gonna last,” he whispered shyly against her shoulder.

She pushed up against him gently with her hips, her hands held onto his triceps, so he moved back a little to check on her. “Everything okay?” He asked softly, distractedly slowing down the circles on her clit to study her flushed face.

When she nodded, he kissed her forehead, and started to pull out slightly to thrust back into her again, but he didn’t expect her to shove him back slightly, forcing his cock to slip out of her all the way.

He looked at her with confusion, “wha-“

He caught himself with his arms behind him, stared at her as his shirt she wore slipped down and covered her naked body again. She climbed onto his lap again, “you’re so pretty,” she murmured. Holding his chin with her fingers, she swiped her thumb across his bottom lip and his breath hitched. His cheeks started to warm up at the tingling that followed her finger along his lip and he whined again. “Shh, stop being so loud,” she told him quietly, and leaned forward to silence him with a heated kiss.

He slid his hands between her legs, shoving two fingers into her without a care, pumping them in and out, moaning into her mouth at the squelch his fingers and her cunt made around him. She sucked on his bottom lip and he groaned, grinding his palm against her clit and adding a third finger, feeling like he could cum just from the wetness that started to cover his knuckles and wrist.

“I love it when you get needy,” she panted, moving his hand away by grabbing his wrist. She lifted his wet fingers to her lips and licked her arousal off them, keeping her eyes on his as his lips parted in surprise. “Are you gonna cum?” She teased, placing his hands on her hips under the shirt she wore.

“Stop teasing me,” he whispered, swallowing some saliva to moisten his dry throat. She laughed quietly and he bit his lip, becoming flustered with her confidence. “Please,” he begged softly, lowering her hips to press against his so her wet pussy could brush against his throbbing cock.

She let out a faint hum, letting him fuck himself with both amusement and fascination. He closed his eyes despite wanting to feel demeaned by the look on her face and got lost in the tiny fragments of pleasure he was feeling. He pressed his forehead against her shoulder, focusing on teasing her soaked entrance with the soft head of his cock until she gave in and shifted to let him slip inside her.

“Fuck… yes,” he moaned, gripping her hips tightly as her warmth and her slick coated his cock. She ground her hips against his, squeezing his cock until he whined and bucked his hips up into her. “Fuck, don’t do that,” he hissed.

She chuckled mischievously, then shushed him as she slowly rolled her hips against his, his mouth parting. A broken moan left his lips, but it was immediately muffled by him when he bit her shoulder and wrapped his arms around her waist. He thrusted his hips upwards, slowly moving in and out of her until she was pushing him onto his back and riding him.

He screwed his eyes shut, biting his lip so hard he thought he’d taste his blood soon. His fingers dug into the flesh of her hips, bruising her soft skin with his desperate touch. His eyes fluttered open to watch her lift herself up and down with her lips parted and swollen. He felt like cumming just at the sight of her and she must have expected a loud moan to fall from his now open mouth because she put her hand over it just as a groan rumbled in his chest, deep and hot.

Her walls spasmed around him, a quiet curse falling from her lips. She looked over at Sam cautiously, picking up the pace and keeping her hand over his mouth. He felt even more turned on, noting the way she shifted her hips to add friction to her clit. He whined against her hand, desperately meeting her thrusts as the bed springs started to squeak louder.

He didn’t even care if Sam woke up anymore, he tugged her hips forward, wanting her full attention on him. He felt his cock swell and twitch inside her, so close to spilling hot inside her. She was driving him crazy, especially with the way her walls squeezed his cock so tight as if it would shut her up.

It drove him over the edge and he came inside her almost involuntarily. Another moan from him heated her palm. She gasped from the unexpectedness of it, leaning over him, her soft hair tickling his skin. She moaned loudly into the bed, pressed her face into the sheets by his head as she trembled and came on his cock. Her warm walls quivered and dripped around him, her hips moving on his cock slower as she rode out her orgasm, his sweaty skin sticking to hers.

She turned her face slightly, her warm breath tickling his ear. He lifted his hand up to move her hair behind her ear and she removed her hand from his mouth, resting it over his thumping heart. They both laid there for a few moments, unmoving, panting in an attempt to catch their breaths and clear their hazy minds. He lovingly pressed kisses along her cheek, temple, and the tip of her ear, rubbing his hand up and down her sides under her shirt.

“That was so hot,” he said after a while, sounding breathless and hoarse. She laughed tiredly and she started to lift the top of her body off him, only to lean forward and kiss him deeply. He was smiling, his mouth readily open for her. His tongue slipped into her minty mouth, soft tongues rolling over each other languidly.

Both of them smiled into the kiss and he wrapped his arm around her waist, moving her onto her back and slipping out of her, careless about the mess he was making between their bodies. She hummed softly against his mouth, a little laugh making her part from his lips. He continued to admire her, fixing her sex hair as best as he could before he dropped a kiss on her forehead, trailing his lips down to her warm cheeks and neck.

“We have a long drive tomorrow, D,” she murmured, her nails gently scratching his scalp, “you should sleep now, I’ll take care of the mess.” He moaned quietly, agreeing with her, pressing his face into her neck and kissed the spot his lips were closest to.

“Mkay,” he mumbled, moving up off her. He looked around for his boxers and felt the bed shift as she made her way to the restroom to clean herself up. He grabbed her underwear off the lamp and grabbed his phone, using the lowest light level to check if they’d stained the sheets.

Despite having told him she’d take care of it, he didn’t listen. He shoved the clean sheets away, feeling both shy and prideful at the mess, and pulled the dirty covers off to hide them as best as he could and replaced them as quickly as he could with clean ones he always made sure to ask for beforehand when they got a room.

He moved out of bed when he was done, waddling to the bathroom with her underwear in his hand. He smiled fondly when he found her washing her hands with the water hardly turned on so it wouldn’t be loud and wake Sam up.

“Your underthings,” he said with a grin, holding them up for her. She turned to look at him and chuckled, drying her hands with a towel to take her underwear from him. “Allow me, my love,” he said dramatically, stopping her from taking them. She gave him a look but played along.

He squatted down in front of her and lifted her leg with his hand around her ankle. She held onto his shoulder for balance, allowing him to help her into her underwear with an amused and affectionate smile on her face that glowed in her eyes.

“Thanks, Dean,” she murmured. She pecked his lips when he stood back up to her face, after having pulled the soft cotton up her legs and comfortably in place around her hips. He squeezed her ass playfully, drawing a laugh from her.

She followed him with her eyes when he moved towards the sink to wash his hands with soap and warm water. She waited for him patiently, leaning against the doorway and playing with the hem of the black t-shirt. She admired him this time, took in the messy and soft spikes of his hair, his teeth pulling at his plump lip. He was gorgeous and he looked over at her, his eyes warm and loving as he took her in too.

“Let’s go to bed, my little flower.” Dean dried his hands with the same towel she used and reached out for her hand, seeing her roll her eyes and snort at the new pet-name he was trying out for her. “You know you like all the names I give you,” he smirked down at her, turning the lights off after her to make their way back to bed.

“I do,” she admitted after a while, biting her lip to stop her happy smile. He could see her thanks to the bright lights outside and the drawn curtains. A delightful feeling filled his stomach and made him feel warm all over. He took her face in his hands, giving her the type of kiss people would give each other if they were saying hello after missing each other their whole lives.

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pink-sparkly-witch · 6 months

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Tequila

Summary: Tequila has a lot to answer for when Y/N wakes up naked in Dean’s bed, but once the shock wears off, she realises that maybe it’s not such a bad thing.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Rating: Teen

Warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of smut, angst, fluff, feelings, friends to lovers

Word Count: 1k

A/N: Another December Drabble for you all to enjoy!

My Masterlist AO3 Ko-Fi

Consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leaving a comment. It really does fuel a creative’s muse. If you’re too shy or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

The sun streams through the motel’s threadbare curtains, rudely awakening you from a deep, drunken sleep. Your head is pounding, and there’s a ringing in your ears that comes with the vague memory of the loud music playing at the bar last night.

It’d been a hard hunt to stomach: Lamia, a child-eating demon, had decided to take up residence in Grangeville, Idaho, and once you’d blasted her ass back to hell, you and Dean really, really needed to let off a lot of steam.

Luckily, there was a dive bar next door to the motel, so neither of you had to stay sober enough to drive home, and you’d both been well and truly shit-faced. You’d hustled a small fortune playing pool; he’d sung karaoke, and there were tequila shots… lots and lots of tequila shots.

A snore from behind you made you freeze. It sounded like Dean, but that couldn’t be right. Why would you and Dean be in the same bed? Whoever it was rolled over and slid their arm over your waist, pulling you into their body. You could feel something hard poke the back of your thigh… at least he’s packing, you thought before the mystery man spoke.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” Suddenly, the whole night’s events come flooding back to you at once.

One tequila shot turned into two. Two turned to four. Four turned to six, and before you knew it, you were stumbling through the door to Dean’s room, lips attached to his, nails raking through his hair and over his scalp and neck, tongues dancing a passionate tango while your clothes flew in every direction.

Dean made love to you so deliciously good. He was sweet and gentle at times. Rough and hard when you needed it. In all the years you’d known him, this was the first time you’d ended up in his bed, yet he knew your body better than you did.

The green-eyed hunter had known how to pleasure you better than anyone had before him. Touching places no one had ever touched before. Taking you higher than you’d ever been, making you scream his name so loud the occupant next door had banged the wall.

It’s overwhelming, and you can feel last night’s alcohol swirl dangerously in your stomach, threatening to make an appearance. You lifted the covers and glanced down. Yep, definitely naked.

Pulling the sheet tighter to your body, you cautiously turn around, your worst fear confirmed as Dean’s twinkling green orbs and cocky smirk greet you.

“Well, this changes things!” he grins, and you can’t decide if you want to punch his painfully beautiful face or kiss him.

“Oh, God!” you gasp, covering your face with your hands. “This can’t be happening.”

“Y/N?” Dean asks, concern evident in his voice. “You okay?”

“I can’t believe I did you—I mean that. I can’t believe I did that,” you mumble.

“Come on, don’t be like that! We had a great time. I got you off six times, sweetheart! That’s a personal record for me!”

Dean’s words are meant to be comforting, but they do the opposite and only embarrass you more. The urge to kiss him is gone, leaving you wanting to punch his painfully beautiful, smug face.

“Seriously, Y/N, are you okay? Did I hurt you in any way? Did you not want that to happen? Because I gotta say, you were all over me at the bar, and I get that we had a lot of tequila and were drunk, but I thought you wanted me, too?”

Now that Dean had put his cocky persona aside and the real Dean was in the room, you’d changed your mind again and wanted to kiss him.

“No, Dean. I wanted it to happen. I have for an embarrassingly long time. What I don’t want is to be just another notch on your bedpost. It’s why I’ve never given in to your very persuasive charms over the years. Because I want to be more than just one night to you. And I know that’s not what you want—”

“Woah, Y/N, slow down!” Dean shot up on the bed and turned you to face him. “Did you not hear me when I said this changes things? Do you honestly think I’d risk what we have for one night? I’ve wanted you since the day we met, and last night was the first time since we met that you’ve shown any interest in me. And sweetheart, I haven’t been shy in pulling out my best moves for you.” His words and body language are so expressive and genuine, and you know he’s not feeding you a line. He likes you and he’s wanted you for a long time. All of his flirting and come-ons were real.

“And I thought ‘this is it. I finally get to call her my girl’. Maybe I shouldn’t have followed through with it when we were drunk, but I don’t regret taking my chance with you. Please tell me you don’t regret what happened.” Dean cups your cheeks to keep your gaze on his. The pain crossing his features breaks your heart. You want to tell him you feel the same way, but it’s risky.

“Honestly, I don’t remember much from last night, just bits and pieces, but I know enough to know that if that happened, I wanted it to happen,” you say, trying to ignore the look of Dean’s disappointment at your lack of memory from the night before.

“Do you really want me?” you ask, terrified this was a tequila-induced dream.

“Since the day I met you. And if you’re interested, I’d like to see where we’d go. Together. As a couple.” For once, Dean looks incredibly shy and vulnerable, making your heart swell.

“I’d like that too, De,” you smile, giggling when he grins boyishly.

“Yeah?” he checks, and you nod.

“Yeah,” you confirm.

“Then, I think you should lay back and let me refresh your memory of last night,” Dean grins as he gently pushes you back down on the mattress and pulls your legs apart.

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#tequila #december drabbles #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester

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impala-dreamer · 1 month

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Stay With Me

A Supernatural Story

~Dean is into his second bottle of whiskey, desperate to drive his problems away. But he knows deep down, the booze isn't what he truly needs...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

1,390 Words

Warnings: Bittersweet Angst

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works

In one fluid motion, he cracked the seal on the new bottle of whiskey and plopped back down into his chair. The old seat groaned and the wheels rolled back a bit, sliding with the force of his weight over the polished floor.

Dean poured himself another healthy shot and stared down into the glass, enjoying how the light from the glowing table beneath set the crystal aflame. His lips turned in a half smile and he sighed.

“If you hold it up to the light at the right angle, you can see a rainbow.”

Y/N’s voice hit his ear and he lifted the glass to his lips, smiling even wider as she came into view.

Dressed in his old green flannel and seemingly nothing else, she leaned against the archway, arms and bare ankles crossed. He looked up and licked a drop of drink from his lips, savoring the taste and the way she looked. Her hair was a beautiful mess, the day’s makeup smudged around her eyes like she had meant it to look that way. Her mouth still held a faint stain from her faded lipstick and she pouted as he stared, driving his mind towards unholy thoughts.

“Rough day?” she asked, pushing off the tiles to walk slowly towards him.

“You should know,” he sighed around the rim of the tumbler. “You were with me.”

Y/N nodded and pulled out the chair across from him. “True.”

He eyed her over the glass, loving the way she sat down so delicately only to slump against the back of the chair. She leaned back and kicked her feet up onto the map, toes casting a shadow over Brazil.

“But really, it wasn’t that bad,” she teased. “Not bad enough for a second bottle of bourbon, anyway.”

“It’s whiskey,” he corrected.

She shrugged. “Same thing.”

Dean shook his head and set the glass down, fingers lingering on the sharp edges of the design. “Not true. Bourbon is always whiskey, but whiskey ain’t always bourbon. This is just straight up, get ya drunk, forget your life for a few hours whiskey.”

She knocked her feet off the table and turned to face him head on. “And why would you want to forget your life, Mr. Winchester? What’s so horrible lately that you’d want it to go away?”

He laughed sadly, bowing his head, avoiding her eyes. “Oh, you know me. Just being overdramatic.”

Y/N leaned forward and set her clasped hands in front of her. The ring he’d given her glinted in the warm golden light from below and Dean’s gaze was locked on the antique silver and brilliant red stone.

He remembered when they saw it in that little shop outside Paramus. The old hippie behind the counter told them that carnelian was special, used for protection and to ward off evil spirits. Y/N had laughed so brilliantly when she heard that, rolling her eyes at the thought of a cheap little ring keeping the demons away. Her smile had been so beautiful that Dean doubled back later that day and purchased the ring for her.

She never took it off.

“Dean Winchester, you are never overdramatic,” she asserted. “Medium dramatic, sure. A little crazy sometimes? We all are. But never overdramatic. Under dramatic if anything.”

She winked and Dean’s shoulders relaxed, his heart melting for her like it did every time she was close by. He was quiet for a long moment, just studying her face. Memorizing the way the lights and shadows played on her cheeks, the unique line of her nose, the fan of lashes curved over her pretty eyes. She was engraved in his mind, her face always hiding just behind his closed eyes.

“Under dramatic, huh?” He took a sip and let the whiskey burn his tongue a bit before swallowing. His mouth was mostly numb by now, but the little bit at the roof of his mouth still felt and that feeling needed to be punished.

“You know I’m right,” she grinned and sat back. “I always am.”

Dean chuckled and drained the glass. “Sure are.”

It was an old joke between them. She was always right no matter the situation, no matter the topic being discussed. The unwritten rule was that even when wrong, Y/N was always right. She also seemed to win every single competition and argument. A smile could get her out of trouble, a pout would break him enough to roll over and let her win. Every single time.

“You’re damned right, Winchester. I’m always right.” She dipped her chin and stared at him, gorgeous eyes peeling back the mask he so often hid behind. “So, spill. What’s wrong?”

Dean licked his lips and tried to look away. “I’m fine.”

She clicked her tongue. “Bull. What’s going on?”

Again, he tried to tear his eyes away, but he was locked in her gaze, trapped by her voice. “Nothing.”

With a huff, she stood up and kicked the chair away with her right foot. It coasted across the floor until it hit the wall and spun around on itself.

Slowly, she walked around the table and perched on the edge next to him. He closed his eyes for a second, breathing in the sweet smell of her. Faint coconut and something sugary filled his senses and Dean leaned back with a squeak of antique coils.

Y/N reached for his glass and Dean watched as she lifted it to her lips, held her breath, took a long sip. She shivered as it burned down her throat and coughed gently.

“This is terrible,” she laughed, setting the tumblr back down.

He nodded. “It’s not great.”

“So, what’s got you trying to kill your liver with the worst fucking whiskey I’ve ever tasted?”

She wiggled a bit to get more comfortable, spreading her knees just enough to touch his leg with her toes. He melted into the touch and fought back a fresh wave of tears.

He knew she wouldn’t let it go until he confessed, knew she’d keep on teasing and prodding until he gave her what she wanted. But he couldn’t say it aloud, couldn’t let the words leave his head and fly out into the world.

If he did, she would leave.

He needed her there, just for a little while longer.

Needed to smell her coconut lotion, feel her toes on his thigh, see her sweet smile. He needed to hear her say his name in that sweet, secret tone she only used with him.

A single tear slipped through his defenses, sliding carelessly down his cheek.

Y/N gasped under her breath and reached for it, wiping the wet away with the soft pad of her thumb. “Oh, baby… it’s ok.”

Before she could pull away, Dean grabbed her wrist. He wrapped his fingers tight around her arm and held her there, letting her heat fill his mind, soothe the pain.

“It’s not OK, Y/N/N,” he whispered. He closed his eyes and took a breath, one last drink of her air, her being. “I- I don’t want you to go.”

She leaned forward, dropped a kiss to the top of his head. “I have to, Dean. You know that.”

Drunken tears flowed freely; his throat closed tight. “Please,” he begged, close to choking on his grief. “Stay with me. Just a little bit longer…”

Y/N sighed and slid down off of the table, her hand still locked in his. “I’m sorry, baby. I have to go.” She chewed her lip and smiled softly. “But I’ll always be with you. I promise.”

Green eyes rose to her face. She was haloed in something brighter than the Bunker’s lights, something sacred, some glow cast down from Heaven.

“Please… Stay with me.”

Her image began to fade but her smile never did.

Dean closed his eyes, kissed her hand, whispered her name into the empty room.

She was gone again, drawn back into his memory, a ghost only in his whiskey addled mind.

He knew she wasn’t really there when she appeared- he’d set the pyre ablaze himself. But still, whenever he met the bottom of a bottle, he’d dream her up and feel her spirit around him. Nights like these he wondered if maybe, if somehow… she had stayed with him.

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waynes-multiverse · 1 month

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Plastic Hearts – Part 23

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, language, smut, fluff, angst, quiet hurt & a touch of heartbreak

Word Count: 5.7k

A/N: Oh, you'll hate me again for ending it like this. Have fun, guys 😂

<< 22 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

23. Every Breath You Take

“More?” Dean offers the half-emptied wine bottle and holds it over Y/N’s glass as they sit around the dinner table. The actress throws him a raised look with a little smile playing on her lips.

“Are you trying to get me drunk? You don’t have to. I’m already sleeping here,” she points out in amusement.

“Yeah, but when you’re buzzed, you let me do more shit.” The green-eyed director smirks.

“Ew, Dad!” Claire groans next to him. “I’m right here. This is why I don’t wanna do family dinner with you guys.”

“This was actually a nice idea,” Y/N says with a smile so bright it shows her dimples. “Thanks for cooking tonight. Perfect way to start our last week of filming.”

Dean’s heart stings slightly at her words, but he covers it with a tight smile. The last three weeks passed by rather quickly, and each week, he grew more worried, more nervous, more depressed, and more anxious. This was it. Seven more days before it all imploded. Six more nights before he might not see her again.

He has been wracking his brain, trying to come up with solutions to save the show – to keep her. Cas and Jo are out on fairs, networking with networks and showing their tape to other producers in hopes of getting picked up by someone else, still without any success.

“So, uh, any plans so far? Heard some of the girls are going to auditions, looking for other jobs,” Dean notes and nurses his beer. He doesn’t hold it against them. It’s the business, after all, and everyone’s trying to survive and find their next paycheck.

Y/N bobs her head and sets her wine glass down. “Yeah, actually. I was thinking about taking your advice and going to New York for auditions. I like the idea of doing theater or maybe even a musical.”

Dean forces a supportive smile on his face and hides the heartbreak in his ribcage. “Yeah, you should. You’d be great at it.”

“But, uhm, for now, I’m actually driving to San Diego in a few days for an audition for a musical. I’m not gonna get it, but I figured it’d be fun,” she tells him, and even though she downplays it, Dean can see the excitement sparkling in her eyes.

“Oh, c’mon, why wouldn’t you get it?” he encourages her. He promised himself he’d always be her cheerleader, no matter his own feelings on the subject. He’s trying a new thing these days – it’s called being less selfish.

But God, he hopes she gets it. San Diego is a lot closer to LA than New York.

Y/N snorts into her glass, chuckling. “It’s a Sondheim musical, Dean. I’m not expecting to get it. It’s just good practice.”

“Aiming high, huh?” Dean laughs despondently and takes a big gulp of beer to choke down his tears.

Dammit, Dean thinks. He wishes he could call the dude and tell him what a great woman and actress Y/N is. He’d be lucky to have her in his production. Maybe the director could bribe him to hire her? Would that take things too far?

“How are you gonna get down there?” Dean’s eyes drift to the leg in a cast that rests on a chair next to him.

Y/N gives him a shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t know. Take the bus?”

“I’ll drive you,” he says with a swig of his beer. See? Supportive. He’s really proud of himself, although he wishes he were a lot drunker right now.

“Ooh, uh, Claire, I borrowed two dresses from Alex for you. I put them in your room. You need to pick one for your Winter Formal,” Y/N tells his daughter with a bright smile.

But Claire shakes her head with teenage defiance. “I don’t need a dress. Jack and I are going ironically.”

Dean’s brow furrows in confusion as he blinks at his kid. “What the fuck does that mean?”

Claire rolls her eyes in response and groans. “Ugh, Dad, you’d think for someone who lived through counterculture, you’d understand.” With that, she gets up from the dinner table and takes her empty plate to the kitchen sink.

“I know what she means,” Y/N mumbles nonchalantly.

Dean’s bewildered gaze darts to her. “Really? What?”

Y/N coolly shrugs her shoulders as she sips on her wine before she sighs defeatedly. “Fine, I don’t know. I just wanted to sound cooler than you,” she admits with a cute smile.

Dean snorts a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that.”

“I’m going to bed. Good night! Don’t be too loud!” Claire yells before the door to her room slams shut.

Dean watches Y/N as she leans back in her chair with a blissful sigh and empties her glass. She has pretty much spent every night at his place since the hospital. At this point, the director has gotten so used to it that he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if one night she didn’t. Why can’t it stay this way?

He never thought he’d be someone who wants to have family dinners every night.

“Too tired for dessert?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows and his signature smirk.

Y/N laughs lightly. “I wish one of these days you’d offer me actual dessert,” she quips.

“Like what? Chocolate cake? Pie? I’d actually love some pie. Maybe we should get one for tomorrow night,” Dean muses, chuckling.

Y/N grins mischievously at him and leans her elbows on the dinner table, resting her chin in her palms. “Maybe you can eat pie off of me.”

Dean curls his lips, his cheeks blushing at the idea alone. His dick seems to like it, too. “God, I love… your brain,” he quickly corrects his course before the wrong words slip out.

And it’s not like it isn’t true. While Y/N hasn’t been able to act and tumble around the ring, she’s been coming up with storylines and basically coordinated matches for the past three episodes. She’s also constantly by his side and mans the booth with him. If Dean didn’t sleep with her and like her, he’d actually be scared she’s coming for his job. She’s pretty much directing at this point, and he just lets her because, well, did he actually ever care?

But his declaration is only a small part of the truth, the full truth being that he loves more than just her damn brain and has for a long while. He’s been trying to say the words for weeks now, started and stopped a hundred times, and tried to pack his feelings into a coherent sentence that honestly shouldn’t be more than three words long.

However, those are some big three words. Monstrous for Y/N. And deep down, Dean knows she might feel like he does, too, but can’t admit it and doesn’t know what the hell to do with it. To her, this little arrangement between them is nothing more than friends who fuck. Only Dean’s aware that they’re actually in a deeply serious relationship, which is maddeningly ridiculous.

But hey, if he keeps his mouth shut, they might make it another five years like this without Y/N running away, so that’s something.

Dean then rises from his seat and offers his hands to Y/N. Her leg is still in a cast, so she has been wobbling around on crutches or hopping clumsily across a room. It’s pretty darn cute.

“Thank you,” Y/N says gratefully as Dean helps her up and slings her arm around his neck before he fully hoists her into his arms. She giggles as he carries her into the bedroom. “You don’t have to do this every night, you know. I can walk just fine.”

“Says you, but truth is, you’ve never seen yourself walk on these things. It’s pathetic,” he teases her and plops her carefully down on the bed.

He flings off his shirt and removes his jeans and underwear as Y/N unbuttons her blouse. The mattress dips as he climbs into the bed and helps her discard her pants. It’s routine at this point, but Dean has really started to cherish the stability. Every morning when he wakes up and smiles at her, he loves knowing that he’ll fall asleep right next to her at night all over again.

Gently, he spreads her legs and slots between them. His lips find hers in the moonlit dark and kiss her with deep affection and burning love, always pouring his whole heart into each kiss and hoping one of these days it’ll stick.

Grabbing a condom from the nightstand, he rolls it over his throbbing length and positions his dickhead at her entrance, slipping into her tight channel till she’s full of him. Her lips part as the same little gasp escapes her that he hears every time he enters her. He loves hearing that noise almost as much as he loves to hear the big one when she comes and the medium ones in-between.

Sometimes, Dean makes her come before, but on nights like these, when she’s already had half a bottle of wine, he rather works quick. While wine makes her louder and more daring, it also renders her quite sleepy.

“Fuck,” she sighs and closes her eyes with a euphoric smile, her pussy gripping his cock tight as she clenches around him. “You’re always so good at that.”

Dean smiles amusedly. Wine makes her chatty, too. “I haven’t even done anything yet, sweetheart,” he remarks.

“Well, I guess I just-… I just love your cock,” she says bluntly and grins up at him. “And those lips.”

See? Wine.

“These ones?” Dean asks teasingly and leans down, pulling one of her nipples between them till she squirms.

“Uh-huh, yes…” she moans softly and cards her hands through his hair, causing a groan to pass his lips. “And that tongue.”

“This one?” Dean lets his tongue roll over that same nipple till it peaks, feeling her arch her back underneath him.

“Yes, and God, those hands and fingers…” she almost whines.

“Those two?” Dean snakes a hand between their bodies, two of his fingers finding her clit and drawing tickling circles.

There’s no more strength left for words. She bites harshly down on her bottom lip and nods vividly. Her cunt clutches him tightly, eliciting a giddy chuckle from him. He loves making her squirm.

Three more squeezes, and he knows he has to move before she grows impatient. He knows her well by now, knows every little detail about her, and loves that he does. They haven’t even been able to do half the things he wants to do to her due to her current injury and inability to move (or bend) as freely.

And yet, he’s still not fucking bored, not in the slightest. He keeps waiting for it, but it never comes.

On the contrary, he appreciates the feeling of knowing someone so deeply and intimately as he knows Y/N. She has become a part of his soul, and he doesn’t know if he could ever cut her out without severely hurting himself. He’s not sure if he could survive a wound this deep.

“Dean, please…”

That was the fourth – like clockwork.

Dean manages to thrust twice before loud punk rock music shakes the walls and drowns out every noise in the entire house. Hell, the whole neighborhood can probably hear it.

Frustrated, his head drops momentarily to Y/N’s shoulder as the actress snorts a giggle. He can feel her body and cunt trembling around him, but not for the reason it should.

“Claire!” Dean shouts angrily. “Turn that fucking music down! Y/N’s trying to sleep!”

“No, she’s not!” his kid yells back through the wall and the unbearable music. “I know you guys are having sex! I don’t wanna hear anything!”

“We’re not having sex,” Dean barks and watches as Y/N gapes at him in sheer playfulness.

“Wow, you lie like that to your kid?” she teases him.

“What d’you want me to say? ‘I’m sorry, you’re right. I’m inside of her now’?” Dean retorts wryly, making Y/N burst into uncontrollable laughter as she snorts into his shoulder. “Can you please stop laughing while I’m trying to fuck you? My soldier’s already retreating.”

But Y/N only laughs harder at that, tears streaming down her cheeks as Dean’s lips purse with a sigh through his nose. She then exhales a deep, long breath, trying to calm herself. He’s seen her do this very move a hundred times during an acting scene.

She clears her throat and tries to force a more serious look onto her features. “How about a little Russian motivation?” she says in her infamous accent and smiles when his cock twitches in agreement. “Maybe some oral manipulation, yes?”

“Oh, fuck yeah.” Dean grins and leans down to capture her lips. “God, I love yo… your pussy,” he quickly corrects himself once more. That was a close one.

Alright, don’t look at him like that and don’t judge him. He’s trying. He really is.

But Jesus fucking Christ, he loves living these days. Who knew his forties would be the best time of his life?

With a big yawn, Y/N rubs her eyes and stretches her arms over her head. The shower in the main bathroom is running with Dean already in it. She grabs her crutches and hops to the window, opening the blinds to let some sunlight in.

She takes a deep breath and enjoys the morning silence for a moment, her gaze drifting out the quiet neighborhood. It has never been this peaceful in the motel. The last three weeks, she has really appreciated waking up in Dean’s bed. She knows she’s probably overstaying her welcome at this point, but he hasn’t kicked her to the curb yet, so she hasn’t been in a hurry to return to the motel, either.

He was right – the memory foam mattress is fucking heaven, especially with a broken ankle.

All in all, she imagined being benched for the show would be a lot worse than it is. Dean’s done a great job of incorporating her anywhere outside of the ring. She’s helping with storylines, training, directing, producing – really anything that could use a few tweaks. The green-eyed director is unfashionably nice to her. Maybe it’s the sex or their friendship or a combination of both. Either way, she’s grateful for him.

However, there’s this tiny voice inside her head that keeps telling her there’s a reason why Dean’s been so nice, and it’s not just the sex. It’s certain kisses and touches and looks – especially the looks – that make her believe there’s something lying underneath the surface. An iceberg so gigantic it could sink the Titanic. Whenever she catches his clandestine gazes from her periphery, there’s this inexplicable feeling that creeps through her veins.

Her peace is disturbed when excessive knocking and an uninterrupted ringing of the doorbell draw her attention to the front door. A part of her expects to find her best friend behind it. Only Jo could be this ruthless and obnoxious.

Y/N hurries to the door as fast as she can, which isn’t fast at all, considering she’s on crutches. Everything is just awkward and slow these days, but she’s been practicing moving around in hopes of joining the show again for the final episode. Billie and Donna have been helping her, too.

But as Y/N opens the door, she’s not greeted by the familiar blonde but by a brunette stranger instead. The only similarity the woman shares with Jo is that she’s incredibly hot and angry, too.

“Can I help you?” Y/N asks with a look of bewilderment, although she shouldn’t be surprised to find a mad woman on Dean’s doorstep.

“I’m Lisa Braeden. I’m looking for my daughter,” the woman says, somewhat impatiently.

Oh.

“Uh…”

Y/N stumps for a moment, eyeing the woman in front of her closely. So, this is Claire’s mother. Dean’s ex. She tries not to feel insecure around her, but it’s hard, considering the woman is a bombshell with perfect curves and flawless features. And if she looks like that now, Y/N wonders what she must’ve looked like seventeen years ago.

The actress suddenly feels very exposed in only the director’s flannel. Truthfully, she looks like she just crawled out of a gutter. Maybe it’s the fact she has just woken up and is sporting major bed-head, but Lisa probably thinks Dean took in a homeless person. The cast and crutches don’t help, either. And then, Y/N wonders why a part of her cares at all what the brunette thinks and reminds herself it’s not a competition.

“Dean? Dean!”

Her voice carries a certain amount of panic that’s probably uncalled for. Yet, it helps. The shower turns off, and not a minute later, Dean stands next to her with only a towel wrapped around his waist, his broad chest still glistening with droplets of water.

He does know how to make an entrance.

Dean’s brow is deeply creased when he takes in the woman at the door, lacking a sense of recognition, however. “What the fuck is all that noise?”

“I’m the fucking noise,” Lisa replies dryly. “I’m here for my kid.”

“Oh…” Dean stumps as well. Then, he swallows thickly and gives her a nervous smile. “Hi, uhm, I’m Dean Winchester.”

“I know who you fucking are, you moron,” Lisa huffs, shaking her head. “You got me pregnant. Where’s Claire?” When neither Dean nor Y/N answer, Lisa rolls her eyes and waltzes past the two inside the house. “Claire!”

“Sure, come on in,” Dean mutters under his breath and shares a wide-eyed look with Y/N, hoping for some guidance.

The actress eyes him up and down, pensively licking her lips. “Maybe you should get dressed.”

With some pants and a shirt on, Dean and Y/N have retreated to the kitchen and sip quietly on their cups of coffee while Lisa and Claire scream at each other. It’s a classic mother and teenage daughter battle. Claire fights for freedom, while Lisa fights for control.

“I had sex with that woman seventeen years ago. Now she’s in my house, yelling at my kid,” the director voices his thoughts out loud, a hint of trepidation shimmering in his green eyes.

“Yup, life has a way of catching up with you. Kinda learned that this year,” Y/N notes with pursed lips and sends him a smile. “But hey, they’re your family now. Kinda nice, right?”

“I can’t tell if you’re joking,” Dean huffs with a bitter look and watches Y/N place her mug in the sink.

“I should probably go. Leave you guys to figure this out,” Y/N announces, one hop on a healthy foot away from walking out the door. “I’ll call a cab.”

“No, don’t! You can’t leave me here alone with them,” Dean pleads, the sheer panic and desperation visible in his eyes and audible in his voice. His gaze bores into her. “C’mon, I need you. This is one of those, you know, friendship moments. Like abortions and getting over coke addictions.”

Y/N lets out a small sigh. How could she leave him after everything he’s done for her? She basically has no choice but to stay and help him through this. “What d’you want me to do? Mediate?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.” Dean shrugs helplessly. “I just know I’m gonna say all the wrong shit at the wrong time. Please. I don’t wanna lose my kid. Help me.”

As she catches his gaze, there’s that inexplicable feeling creeping through her veins again. This time, it even tugs on her heart.

“Okay, uhm, alright. I’ll stay,” she promises him, offering him a small smile of comfort.

Unbeknownst to her, though, Dean comes close to saying the three ominous words once more. It’s getting harder every day to keep them inside. How long does he have until he bursts? He feels like a ticking time bomb.

“Maybe we should all sit down and talk?” Y/N suggests as soon as Claire has stormed into her room and slammed the door in upset.

“About what?” Lisa barks, half-annoyed as she rests her hands on her squared-off hips. “She’s been lying to me for months.”

“Okay, in my defense, she told me you were crazy,” Dean explains with an innocent shrug.

“I don’t care if she told you I beat her and locked her into the basement. If a kid has run away from home, you call their mother,” Lisa retorts furiously.

Dean purses his lips in defeat for a moment, especially when Y/N seems to agree. She’s kind of his moral compass, but he’s not ready to accept his loss yet. “Well, you didn’t call me to tell me you were having a kid. My kid,” he argues and knows it’ll probably backfire. He can tell by Y/N’s frown.

“Oh, excuse me for not calling the guy who didn’t stay for breakfast,” Lisa counters with an eye roll.

Dean’s brow furrows, shaking his head. “I don’t think that’s what happened.” Granted, he’s been high for two decades now.

“I asked if you wanted pancakes. You said, ‘No, thanks, but that was fun.’ And then you got into your car and bolted, never to be seen again,” Lisa recalls, frowning.

“Uhm, that sounds like it was a long time ago,” Y/N interjects in his defense, chuckling nervously. “He’s a different and more mature person now.”

Dean’s heart swells to twice its size. It’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about him. Although, he can tell she only said it to win Lisa over. She’s a good actress, making even him believe her words. But she’s helping him, so it’s the thought that counts.

“Thanks for the input. Who are you again? Are you his fucking maid?” Lisa arches a brow at her, eyeing her up and down.

“No, she’s not my maid,” Dean replies fiercely but then doesn’t know what else to say. Girlfriend? Lover? Friend? Nothing sounds right. “She’s my, uhm, she’s my actress. She’s my… You know, she’s… She’s Y/N.”

At that, Y/N’s brow draws together in the middle with a tilt of her head. Dean surmises that answer probably sounded even weirder.

“Yeah, I can see you’ve changed so much.” Lisa scoffs sarcastically and folds her arms over her chest, her patience running low.

Y/N subtly clears her throat, deciding to step in. God knows the director needs all the help he can get. “Okay, uhm, it doesn’t really matter who I am,” she says and shares a look with Dean, who anxiously chews his bottom lip raw. “What matters is that Dean has really connected with Claire over the last few months. He’s enrolled her in high school, she has joined AV club, she’s got a really nice and sweet boyfriend.” Dean grimaces at that last part, but Y/N skillfully ignores it and continues, “They’re going to Winter Formal tonight.”

“Yeah, I’m chaperoning,” Dean announces proudly. “This dance is very meaningful to her.”

Lisa snorts a laugh, clearly amused. “My kid does not go to dances.”

“Yes, I do!” Claire suddenly stands in the middle of the living room with the brightest smile. It’s freaky, really. She gleefully holds up the two dresses Y/N brought over last night, feigning her excitement. “Which one should I wear?”

Lisa and Dean disagree on the dress choice, but when Y/N sides with Lisa, Claire takes the hint and quickly disappears back into her room.

“It’s just one night, and it will give you two some time to catch up. Figure this out,” Y/N advocates suggestively.

“Yeah, what she said,” Dean agrees and clears his dry throat, wishing he had a bottle of booze in his hand to calm his nerves. Man, in stressful situations like these, he does miss coke sometimes. But fucking Y/N has been a great substitute, so maybe he’ll just do that as soon as that crazy woman leaves his house again. “Look, I get that you’re angry. But I’m really trying here, okay? She’s doing great at school, I gave her a curfew… I wanna make up for lost time,” he explains sincerely. Y/N sends him a proud smile.

“Fine, one night, but tomorrow we’re leaving,” Lisa relents with a sigh. “I’m not gonna indulge this fucking father-daughter fantasy,” she huffs and then finally storms out of the house.

Y/N exhales a long sigh of relief. “Well, that went better than expected.”

“You think?” Dean checks insecurely. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if Y/N hadn’t been here to support him. “You’re coming tonight, right?”

Surprised by the request, Y/N’s brow meets her hairline. “You want me to go to your daughter’s Winter Formal with you?”

“Yes, obviously,” Dean states matter-of-factly and blinks at her. “You can’t leave me alone with that woman.”

Y/N heaves another sigh as she looks at him. “Okay, fine,” she surrenders.

Sitting on the bleachers of a fully decorated gym, Y/N realizes she has kind of missed high school. At least, everything used to be much simpler back then. Your crush would ask you to go steady, you’d say yes or no, and then you’d be broken up shortly after prom.

Adulthood is complicated. People are complicated. And love is goddamn unfathomably complicated.

“It’s so weird seeing her with her first high school boyfriend,” Lisa notes with a small sigh next to her. “I still remember her drawing with crayons. Now, she’s running miles away, lying, and making out with a boy.”

“Yeah, teenage romance is a lot more intense,” Y/N says, chuckling softly.

“She won’t wear a dress to my wedding. Refused to. Screamed bloody murder,” Lisa says thoughtfully. “But after spending a few months with her estranged father, she suddenly puts one on.”

“People are complicated,” Y/N reiterates her earlier sentiment.

Claire is complicated. Dean is complicated. And Y/N? She might be the most complicated of all.

“My fiancé is not,” Lisa says, a delicate smile playing across her lips. It’s enough to show her happiness. “I always used to date these guys that would run so hot and then completely cold the next minute. I never knew where I stood. It was exhausting.”

“Yeah, I get it…”

Y/N’s eyes drift to Dean as he chats with one of the other dads by the buffet. She doesn’t know what the director wants from her. She doesn’t know what their relationship even is. One minute, it feels epic, like a love so legendary it should only exist on the silver screen. And the next minute, it feels trivial, like it should’ve never existed at all.

But Dean’s not the problem. Deep down, she knows what that creeping feeling in the pits of her stomach is. And she knows she’s not ready for it. Truth is, Y/N has no idea what she wants and feels lost. Because if she admits one thing, it’d mean the end of another. If she stays in LA for a guy, what would that mean for her career? She doesn’t want to end up like Jo. She’s finally about to have it all, only to realize both at the same time are a mere dream.

And worst of all, even if she did know what she wanted, she’s doesn’t know if she deserves it.

“So, what d’you do, son?” an older man next to Dean asks. He’s already balding and gray, as is the scruffy beard he’s sporting. His suit jacket with a name tag that reads “Chaperone” looks a little worn and sleazy, too. The director figured he’d be one of the oldest dads here, so this guy comes as a pleasant surprise.

“I’m a director of a women’s wrestling show,” Dean replies and takes a sip from the fruit punch. None of the kids have spiked it yet, which is quite the disappointment. What’s happening to today’s youth, huh? “And you?”

“Oh, nice.” The man nods with a smile and pulls out a business card from his suit jacket, handing it to Dean. “Bobby Singer. I own a small chain of strip clubs, although my wife Ellen would probably like me to tell you I’m a small business owner.”

“Got it.” Dean chuckles and glances at the card in his hands. “Bobby’s Body Shop. Oh, hey, I know this one! ‘Where the girls are hotter than the asphalt,’” he quotes the club’s tagline proudly, grinning. “I’m there all the time! Actually got one of your girls in my show.”

Bobby chuckles. “Well, next time you’re there, ask for me. I’ll get you a discount.”

“Thanks.” Dean smirks. And Cas claims you can only network on the fucking golf course. “Oh, hey, you should catch one of our shows. It’s our last one this week. It’s pretty badass. We’re over at the old gym in Watts.”

“Alright, I’ll see you there,” Bobby says with a smile.

Dean’s eyes then drift to Y/N on the bleachers. Last time he checked on her, she was still chatting with Lisa, but the brunette has since left. And as he glances at her now, Y/N has found herself encircled by a group of horny teenage boys, causing his brows to draw together and meet in the middle. They’re like fucking vultures.

“Shoo!” Dean barks sternly at the young men as he approaches the group and watches them scurry away with their tails tugged between their scrawny legs.

With an amused smile, Y/N arches an eyebrow at him. “Glad you’ve decided to join me. It was getting crowded. I’ve turned down about twenty offers to dance.”

“Look at you, you little heartbreaking cougar,” Dean retorts with a teasing smile. “You’re gonna turn me down, too?”

“I have a broken ankle. Did you forget that part? I can’t dance,” Y/N replies.

“Oh, c’mon, that never stopped you before. ‘Sides, I’ve got two working legs and can’t dance, either. So, what d’you say, huh?” Dean holds out his hands for her to grasp.

“Fine,” Y/N relents and grabs his hands, hopping to her feet. “Let’s do some awkward swaying.”

“That’s the spirit.” Dean laughs and rests his palms on her hips, helping her stand as she locks her arms around his neck.

“Is that what you had in mind?” Y/N asks teasingly as she looks up and meets his gaze.

“Kinda.” Dean dips his head and catches her lips, deepening the kiss with his tongue slipping inside her mouth.

“Dean,” she scolds him softly with blushed cheeks and a giggle that surely won’t keep him from doing shit. “There’s people here. Teenagers.”

“So? It’s nothing they wouldn’t do,” Dean remarks mischievously. “And no one’s here that we know. Claire’s caught us like a million times already, and Lisa doesn’t care. C’mon, we never get to do those things in public,” he appeals with a wiggle of his brows.

“Alright,” Y/N surrenders with a small sigh and a smile, tiptoeing up on one foot to press her soft lips back on his. She feels him breath into the kiss, cherishing every second of it. His hands wander from her hips to cup her cheeks, causing her to almost topple over as he forgets that he’s been steadying her. “Whoa, Dean!”

Her giggle interrupts the kiss as she tightens her grip around his neck before he moves his hands back to their place on her hips, offering her support again. She leans her head against his chest, and he rests his chin on her crown.

“Sorry, got carried away there for a moment,” he apologizes with a snicker, pecking the top of her head gently.

“Yeah, that happens with you sometimes,” she teases and buries her head deeper into his shirt. “Your heart’s beating really fast. Are you on something again?”

Dean wants to say it’s love, but that sounds too fucking cheesy.

“Nope, still clean,” he replies instead and doesn’t take offense in her question. “Just nerves, I guess. There’s something I wanna tell you,” he says and licks his lips, swallowing thickly.

Y/N looks up and finds his green eyes, her brow knitting in curiosity. But there’s a perceptive shimmer in her orbs, and Dean knows she can already anticipate what’s coming next. Judging by her shift in weight, he can tell she doesn’t want him to say it out loud.

“Shit, uhm…” She squeezes her eyes shut and fumbles for an excuse. Dean gives her a plethora of time to find a believable one. “I have to go. I promised the girls we’d work out a plot for the finale together tonight, celebrate our last week.”

Dean’s lips quiver but manage to find a smile. “You sure?”

Reluctantly, Y/N still nods and lets out a tense breath. “Yeah.”

It feels like dancing around a big, pink elephant between them. Both of them pretend it’s invisible, although it’s painfully not. It’s even roaring or hooting or whatever the fuck elephants do.

“Alright, I’ll drive you to the motel,” Dean capitulates with a resigned nod.

“No, uh, stay,” she tells him and clumsily hops back to the bleachers to grab her crutches. “I’ll get a cab. You should spend your night with Claire. Figure things out with Lisa.”

“Okay,” Dean caves once more but then grabs hold of her, pulling her to his lips. The kiss is fervent and heated and desperate. So fucking desperate. “One for the road,” he says with a painful smile as he draws back. He doesn’t want to admit that it might be the last one they have shared.

Y/N’s look tells him she feels the finality, too. It’s the epilogue of the best book he’s ever read. The end credits of his favorite movie. The final episode of a show he loved.

“I’m sorry,” she says quietly with a hesitant lip bite and a harrowing swallow.

“Don’t be. Have fun, okay? I’ll see you tomorrow,” Dean says and sends her one last weak smile before he watches her walk away with an aching heart.

24. Don't Dream It's Over

Honestly, even my cold, cold heart weeped at the end there. Poor Dean 😢💔 But as you can guess from next week's title, we're not done yet 😉

TAGS:

Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey

@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies

@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28

@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444

@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus

Everything Dean: @SnowAyumi

#plastic hearts #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female reader #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester imagine #director!dean winchester #director!dean winchester x actress!reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles #jensen ackles smut #jensen ackles characters #dean winchester au #supernatural au #glow au #dean winchester reader insert

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alexsoenomel · 5 months

Text

Random Dean Winchester Headcanons:

Dean not letting you drive Baby. Too protective over his car. You would beg him but he would always say no. He let you once though – on your birthday – but ended up regretting when you almost crashed into a tree.

He loved drinking coffee with you in the morning in silence. It was your morning ritual. Coffee and then everything else.

Loved discussing music with you, especially during road trips. He would even let you pick the next song, just because he thought your taste was awesome.

Being overprotective and possessive. If someone hurts you – they're dead. If someone flirts with you – they get a polite fuck off. If they continue? They get a punch in the face.

He loved the way you would look at him whenever he would wear a suit. You loved pulling his tie and giving him a sweet little kiss before work, telling him how handsome he looked.

He loved sleeping next to you. He loved the smell of your hair and how it lightly tickled his face. He also loved being the small spoon every once in a while – he felt safe next to you. He would still put his gun under his pillow though; old habits die hard.

Dean loved when you would play with his hair, especially before bed since sleep deprivation was his best friend.

Random dates. He loved taking you out on random free days. Dinners, drinks, star gazing, night drives – he loved spending time with you.

He wasn’t much of a reader, but he loved when you would read him your favorite books. Sometimes he would read it to you, the sound of his voice was like a lullaby for you on bad days when you couldn’t sleep. You would use him as a pillow as he would read to you until your light snores filled the room.

Arguing. You would argue mostly while working. You were both stubborn and impulsive so poor Sam always had to be the voice of reason. He wanted to keep you safe and you wanted to hunt.

Jealousy. You would get jealous. Dean was a good looking man and other women would try to get his attention and of course it never worked. He would just ignore them, but that still didn’t ease your jealousy. You would grow silent, anger written on your face and he would of course tease you, making the situation worse – for him.

“Be careful, she’s going to come and steal your man,” He told you once, after a waitress left her number on a napkin.

“Be careful,” you started as you kicked him in the shin under the table, “next time I’m kicking you where you like my face the most.” He groaned in pain and Sam almost choked on his coffee.

Bickering. Because he was a little shit and you were his little shit. Two sides of the same coin, actually.

Kisses, lots and lots of kisses. He loved kissing every inch of you, taking his sweet time, slow, sensual and tortuous. You would whimper under him every single time.

Holding hands. First time he held your hand was while driving home after a ghost almost took you out. He lectured you after Sam successfully burnt its bones, told you how reckless and stupid you were for jumping in front of him. Then he realized you almost died – the thought scared the living shit out of him.

He was a switch, plain and simple. Sometimes he loved calling you his dirty little slut, making you scream his name over and over, but other times he just wanted to admire your body as you would ride him. He loved when you were in control.

Praise kink. That man loved being praised. “You feel so good, baby,” was his favorite.

He would smile whenever you would call him handsome.

You were his sunshine, darling and sweetheart. He would call you by your name only when he was pissed.

He loved you more than anything, but at the same time he thought he didn’t deserve you.

You told him I love you first, drunk on whiskey after a successful hunt. Sam was sick that day, so it was only you and him. He didn’t say anything at first, instead he kissed you and took you home. He made love to you that night and between kisses the words slipped. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

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holylulusworld · 7 months

Text

Beta in heart

Summary: You’ve got a secret.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Beta!Reader (fem)

Side pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega! Cassie Robinson

Warnings: angst, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics, lies, jealousy, unrequited feelings, Dean being an ass, rut

Now, …

We all lie sometimes. Right? Little white lies to make the person next to you feel more comfortable, or to protect yourself.

In your case, it was the latter.

Maybe you did it to not be treated like someone’s property. Maybe to protect yourself from getting hurt.

In the end, it didn’t matter. Not anymore.

He found out the truth and is furious. Even worse, he tries to break down the door to get inside your room.

His rut won’t let him think straight. If he manages to break your door, he’ll claim you in the heat of the moment. Just like you always feared…

A few days earlier, Cape Girardeau, Missouri

“I wanted to thank you again for helping me,” Cassie guiltily looks at you.

It’s the first time you met her, but the second time for Sam and Dean helping her with a case. According to what Sam told you, she’s usually bubbly and self-confident.

But the moment you stepped into her living room, following Sam and Dean to tell her that the wrath had been defeated, she changed. Her eyes drop to the ground, and you frown as you seem to be the reason for her behavior.

“It was nothing, really,” you hastily say before one of the brothers can tell her so. “Dean’s friends are our friends. And it’s our job to hunt down the evil.”

“Well…I…” She trails off, glancing at Dean. “It wasn’t nothing. All of you risked your lives.”

Sam clears his throat, jerking his head toward the door. “I’ll get the books,” he says. “Can you lend me a hand, Y/N?”

“Sure,” you wrinkle your forehead but follow Sam outside. You know Cassie is an old friend of Dean and maybe he wants to have some time alone with her.

Sam and you left Cassie’s place to get a few hours of sleep. It’s a long drive back to your current hideout, and you don’t want to sleep in the car again.

Dean didn’t come back. Of course, he didn’t. You’re not foolish enough to believe he’d not take the chance and get laid.

You knew the moment Cassie came back into the picture that he’d jumped the chance to have a tête-à-tête with the pretty brunette goddess.

Years ago, you would’ve spent the night curled into a ball, the pillow tear-stained because of your broken heart. Now it’s just a dull pain you can suppress and ignore.

You accepted a long time ago that Dean is not interested in you in a romantic way. He sees the sister in you they never had.

Dean came back in the morning, smiling and joking while you tried to hide your sour mood. It’s not his fault that you are in love with the cocky alpha for years.

You told him about your feelings during a drunk escapade. Dean didn’t remember in the morning, and you acted like you didn’t pour your heart out.

“Cassie invited all of us for lunch,” he casually says. As if you can’t see the hickeys on his neck, or still smell her on him. “What do you say? Sammy? Sweetheart?”

That nickname makes you want to throw up. It sounds like he tries to mock you using it after he fucked some other omega.

Again, you tell yourself it’s not his fault you fell for him. It’s yours for not telling him how you feel sooner, or while you are sober.

“Fine by me. I’m hungry, and free food is free food,” you casually say while you struggle to keep the sadness out of your voice. “She’s nice.”

“Yeah, she is,” he dreamily says, smiling dopily, breaking your heart even more as he tells you that he wants to come back more often from now on.

“Dean said you are beta, and that you are strong and smart,” Cassie awkwardly looks at you. She stiffly points to the couch, inviting you to sit with her. Dean and Sam wanted to check on another case one town away and you are left with the omega Dean chose over you. “So—uh…you hunt with the boys.”

“For a few years,” you shrug and try to ignore that you can smell Dean on her. He must’ve done more than help her wash the dishes. You shudder and scrunch up your nose.

“What’s wrong with you?” She cocks her head and watches you squirm on the sofa. “Y/N? Are you sick?”

You make a retching noise, concerning her even more. “I’m fine. It’s just…nothing…forget it.” You shake your head.

“Shit,” Cassie exclaims. “You can smell Dean on me. Right? That’s the reason you act like you are about to puke on my carpet. Does he know?”

Your heart drops. She cannot tell Dean. He’ll get mad and chase you away if he ever finds out about your true nature. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”

“Only omegas can smell an alpha,” she softly says and places her hand on your knee. “You are hiding your nature from him, I assume.”

“I-no…”

“Why didn’t you tell him that you are an omega? Why lie to him? If you see him as your alpha…” She sighs deeply as you still refuse to admit that you are not a beta. “We both know that you feel more than friendship for him.”

“If you have an ounce of decency and a heart, you won’t tell him, “You get up from your seat. “You fucked him without asking if I’m his mate. So, you owe me.”

It’s not fair to call Cassie out on sleeping with Dean, but you’ve got no choice. She can’t tell him what she found out. And you will make sure of it.

“She doesn’t want to see me again, Y/N! What did you say to Cassie!” Dean is furious. After your little talk with Cassie, she decided it’s best to make sure that you and Dean finally talk about the elephant in the room.

“I don’t know what you are talking about!”

“She said you are hiding things from me, and that you have feelings for me! I thought we talked about catching feelings. We both agreed on never talking about what you told me that night.”

“You remember?” You shake your head in disbelief. “All this time I believed you were oblivious to my feelings. But you knew all along.”

“You’re beta and we can never be together.”

“What if I was omega? Would my presentation change things between us?” It’s time to be brave and talk to Dean.

“It doesn’t matter if you are an omega or not. Your presentation wouldn't change a thing. We are friends and should keep it that way.”

“Oh, okay,” you nod and tell yourself again that you are over your crush on the hunter. “Good to know. You should call Cassie and tell her we talked shit out.”

Dean watches you storm off. He sighs and shakes his head. “We can’t ruin our friendship.”

Dean followed your advice and called Cassie. Only for her to turn him down once again.

“Omega? No,” Dean shakes his head. Cassie tried to keep your true nature a secret, but she spilled the truth when Dean tried to kiss her. “Why are you saying these things? Do you want me to leave? Is it that?”

“I want you to talk to your friend! She’s hiding her true nature because of you and your friendship. I think she’s in love with you. You should’ve seen the way she reacted to your scent on my skin.”

Dean opens his mouth. He tries to say something, but then he realizes that Cassie must’ve told him the truth. “My scent?” Dean shakes his head. “That’s impossible. Only omegas can scent an alpha.”

“Exactly,” she softly says. “Dean, as long as you’ve got an omega yearning for you around, we can’t be more than friends.”

Dean slams the door to the bunker shut. He can’t believe Cassie broke things up over a misunderstanding. You can’t be an omega.

“Where is Y/N?” he asks, glaring in Sam’s direction. Dean is close to losing his composure and has no patience left. “I need to talk to her.”

“She texted me. I think she’s at the bar,” Sam wrinkles his forehead. Something seems to be off with you and his brother. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I’ll be at the bar.”

“O-kay. I’ll be here, reading one of the books I bought on our way back. Call me if you need help.”

Watching his brother storm off Sam wonders what happened between you and his brother.

“Do you ever think, whoa, I should jump into my car and just ride into the sunset?” You grumble as Donnie the bartender refills your glass.

“Sometimes,” he shrugs. “I like my job, and this town is nice. People tip me well so, it’s not very often.”

“Hmm…” you nod slowly. “I fucked things up between me and a good friend. Maybe he’ll hate me now.”

“Speaking of said man,” Donnie jerks his head toward the door. “He looks mad. What did you do?”

“Y/N, what are you—” Dean stops in his tracks. He dips his head, and looks you up and down before he takes a step toward you. He stops again, sniffing in your direction. “No. This can’t be.”

“Dean, what are you doing here? I thought you wanted to talk to Cassie.”

“What did you do?” Dean grabs your arm, making you wince as he forgets about his strength.

“Let me go, Dean. You are hurting me,” you wiggle in his tight grip. “Dean!”

“I can scent you,” he growls. “Why did you hide that you’re an omega? Huh? You hide your nature only to reveal who you really are right when I meet Cassie again.”

“I hate being weak and vulnerable during my heats. And I don’t want anyone to believe I’m a pathetic omega who’s needy all the time and wants to nest. I didn’t want you to see a liability in me!”

You break out of Dean’s grip and run out of the bar. He needs a moment, looking at Donnie before he storms out of the bar to chase after you.

Now, …

Dean came back to the bunker a few hours after you left the bar, his rut in full swing. When Sam tried to stop him from getting to you, he knocked his brother out.

“Open the fucking door or I’ll break it down,” Dean warns one last time. “I mean it, Y/N! OPEN IT!”

He kicks the door again. This time the lock gives in, and the door creaks open. You hide under your bed, hoping Dean will calm down before he does something he’ll regret…

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

#dean winchester #female reader #angst #dean winchester fanfic #alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean x reader #a/b/o

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river13245 · 6 months

Text

We are here for you

Navigation / SPN Masterlist

Dean x Reader x Castiel

The sun was starting to set, it was at the perfect height to be directly into your eyes as you drove. You were reaching to pull the sun visor down so it would block at least some of the glare as your phone began to ring.

There were only a select few people who called you. Other people texted because they know you don't like talking on the phone unless it was an emergency. So once the visor was down you picked up your phone to see it was Castiel.

When you answer you put it on speaker and place your phone on your lap as you continued to drive. "Hey angel" the nickname you had for him rolled off your tongue easily and you knew that there would be a soft smile on his face. "hi y/n"

He wasn't one for nicknames really and that was okay. However that wasn't the thing that had you nervous is was the fact that after he had spoke your name a sigh escaped him. "Castiel what's wrong?" he never called you if there was something wrong. He would just appear so the fact that he hasn't yet really has you worried.

"its Dean" his words were forced out as if he was becoming frustrated with something. You knew that Dean wasn't doing to well with the passing of his mom, and the whole Jack situation.

That's actually why you were out running around trying to find any way to get his mom back but also to find any trace of Jack. There hadn't been and you knew they were not going to be happy with how there was no progress being made. "What's going on with him. Is he okay?"

Rustling was heard and a incoherent grumble was heard before you heard Cas telling someone to stay out the fridge. A few moments later Cas spoke into the phone again. "I cant help him this time. He needs you, we need you to come back to the bunker. He's drunk and no one can get him to calm down"

As you rest your head against the seat you sigh. You weren't angry or anything you just had to figure out how you would approach Dean to get him to calm down. "alright ill be there as soon as I can. I love you"

Before he hung up a soft "we love you too" was heard before the beeping sound. Tossing your phone to the passenger seat you pressed on the gas. You were known for always being a safe driver usually but on cases and when people needed you, all caution was thrown to the wind.

When you pull up the bunker you park beside baby and walk inside. The sight inside breaks your heart, Dean is standing with what looks like to be his fourth beer in his hand as he argues with Sam and Cas both. Cas is trying to be gentle with him but you can tell they had just got done arguing because of the tension through the room.

Sam is the first to notice you and he gives you a look that's like "save me". You point to tell him that its okay to leave and so he does but not before kissing the top of your head in a friendly way.

Now it leaves the three of you in the room. You walk up beside Castiel and look at Dean. "Dean can you please put the bottle down?" your voice was soft not wanting to come off as demanding or anything to tip him off but you should have known that wasn't going to work. Instead he lashes out. "of course you come as backup. I'm fine its my fourth beer I don't need you here. Neither does Cas"

The words he spoke were intended to hurt you and it works. He doesn't usually say hurtful things like that towards you its usually your own insecurities and other people that do. But you choose to not feel it at the moment instead you look at him and tell Cas that he can leave. He places his hand on your shoulder and squeezes it letting you know that whatever Dean says isn't true before leaving.

Dean is taking another drink of his beer and you take it from his hands and toss it in the trash. This earns a incoherent mumble of words and you just shake your head. "come on dean you stink of sweat, dirt and alcohol. Lets get you cleaned up we could both use a shower"

As you spoke you were running your hand up and down his arm gently and it seemed to calm him down as he leaned into you. "never seemed to bother you before" This earns him a light slap on his arm as you begin to walk the both of you to the shower.

Closing the door you see him taking off his clothes and then you go over and start the water making sure its a nice temperature for you both. Then you take off your clothes and hold his hands as you walk under the water.

Making sure that he was the one under the water first you run your hands through his hair and then hold his face in your hands. "Dean Love." He looks down at you but doesn't respond "Me and Castiel love you. and so does your brother. Hell there are a lot of people who love you. You aren't alone in this. I promise"

He pulls you into a kiss and its sloppy but you both keep it short because tonight is not the night. "alright now clean yourself up. Ill wash your hair"

When you grab the shampoo he begins to wash off his body. You watch as the dirt washes off him and goes down the drain and then you begin to wash his hair. This results to him resting his head against your chest. Its the reason you choose to wash his hair at times like this.

Your hands run through his hair and scratch gently at his scalp. The whole time you do this he is resting against you. Only pulling away to rinse his hair out and then you do your own routine before the both of you get out and into your pajamas.

Dean had only put on a pair of sweatpants while you put on sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt that was Castiel's. Dean was the first in bed and you got in beside him. When you both get comfortable you grab the remote and turn on scooby doo. This causes Dean to laugh a bit and he watches it.

You knew that Dean would be apologizing tomorrow for how he acted because its something he has been working on is apologizing for when he says or does things that are hurtful to people he loves. So tonight you push it to the side.

Hours later Castiel comes back to the bunker and sees the both of you asleep. He had been out looking for anything that would help us all so it was nice to see the two people he loves most asleep without any worries.

He walks over to the bed and covers the both of you up and kisses you and deans forehead. When he does this he uses some of his power to enter your dreams so he could make sure they were good ones before he walks off after saying "I love you both"

#polyamory #dean winchester x male reader #dean winchester x reader #castiel x male reader #castiel x reader #castiel x dean #dean x castiel #dean x castiel x reader #new blog #supernatural #angst #fluff #river13245 #sam winchester

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queen-of-deans-booty · 8 months

Text

Right After All

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: none

Summary: Your twin sister throws a party and invites her hot boyfriend and his brother. You're nothing like she is, and Dean sees he might have chosen the wrong sister.

Square Filled: tattoo (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: i appreciate any and all comments! <3

You’ve never seen your house so crowded before. Your twin sister invited everyone she knew to a housewarming party that turned from a few friends to a full-blown frat house. You’re more of an introvert while your twin is a severe extrovert. She needs to be around people to feel most comfortable while you can stay in your room all day either reading or playing video games.

It's only for one night, Y/N. Enjoy it and mingle.

The backyard is filled with people playing in the pool, smoking God only knows what, and playing on the mini basketball court your dad installed years ago. Inside the living room, people are playing ‘spin the bottle’, playing beer pong, and dancing to whatever music they put on. No one should be going upstairs, but you could have sworn you saw two people go up there in the midst of the chaos.

The kitchen is the only place where there aren’t a lot of people because the kitchen isn’t that big anyway. There are a few getting drinks, but they quickly leave to rejoin the party.

The only people you’d love to converse with are your twin, her boyfriend, Dean, and his brother Sam. You’ve known them ever since they started dating a year ago. She doesn’t treat him like how he deserves, but you try to stay out of their relationship. She’s into partying, drinking, hooking up with Dean, and always spending whatever money he makes.

It sucks knowing he’s a good guy and seeing him get treated like trash.

You grab whatever alcohol is on the table and pour yourself a simple drink. Sam walks in with an uncomfortable smile on his face.

“You okay?” you chuckle.

“Yeah. I guess some girls don’t know the word ‘no’.”

“Yeah, they’re my sister’s friends. Sorry about that.”

“I can handle it,” he shrugs. “How’s school going?”

“One more year and I graduate! I’ve got an internship at the hospital this summer that will help me get a job there. How’s hunting going? I can’t imagine it’s ever good.”

“We’re managing. We got some hunters under our belt that are training so we don’t have to respond to every case.”

“That’s good. You know, I’d love to come over and see this Bunker of yours. I’ve only ever heard you talk about it. You’re making me think it’s a mythical place.”

“Yeah, we’d love to have you and Clarissa over some time.” Dean comes stumbling into the kitchen with a drunk grin on his face. “And I’m out.”

“Hey, Dean. You doing okay?” you ask.

“Never better, sweetheart.”

Dean walks over to you and pulls you into him. Before you have a chance to object, he plants his lips on yours. You’ve thought about this moment since you met Dean, but this isn’t right. He licks your bottom lip to get access inside your mouth, and you’d like to let him in but you don’t.

“Baby! That’s not me, dumbass!” your twin screeches from the kitchen door.

“What?” Dean asks and pulls away from you.

She rolls her eyes and grabs her boyfriend’s arm to drag him away. Dean might not remember this moment, but you will for the rest of your life. You were going to make a move, but your sister got to him before you could. You never said anything to Dean for fear that it’ll ruin their relationship to the point where you couldn’t see him anymore.

It’s better to have him around as a friend than not have him around at all.

Suddenly, this party has turned into a box with walls that keeps getting closer and closer to you. No one noticed you leaving the party until it was over. Some people crashed wherever they could sleep because they were too drunk to drive, leaving you to pick up their mess. Sam is in the backyard cleaning up what he can while you’re in the living room.

“Hey.”

You look up and see Dean by the stairs. Clarissa isn’t anywhere near him which means she’s probably passed out somewhere.

“Did you enjoy the party?” you ask and stuff red solo cups into the black trash bag.

“Yeah, I did. Your sister throws a helluva party. Let me help you.”

“I don’t---” He’s already picking up empty glass bottles and red cups. “Do you remember anything about the party?”

“You mean besides that kiss we shared?”

“Listen, no harm no foul, okay? We can just forget about it. You probably will in the morning.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“What?”

Dean walks over to you, backing you up into the large unlit fireplace.

“I knew what I was doing,” he whispers. “You know the difference between you and your twin? You have that pretty little tattoo right here.” Dean leans closer to your neck where you have a single rose tattoo right behind your ear. He brushes your hair away and plants a single kiss on the rose. “She doesn’t have one.”

He knew what he was doing. He kissed you on purpose knowing you were you and not your twin. What does this mean for you and him? For him and Clarissa? Dean pulls away from you and puts some distance between you and himself. Right before he leaves the room, he winks at you.

Maybe you and him are right after all.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

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nescaveckwriter · 4 months

Text

Don't Leave Me

Dean Winchester x Reader 🐞

Summary: Dean, did the unthinkable, and cheated on you, on your anniversary.

A/N: Oh yay, I'm so excited, not only my first one shot, but also my first one done for the bingo @jacklesversebingo 🐞❤️💕 I'm just so excited to hear what y'all think. Much love my bugsies 🐞

Line: I don't really hate you, but I hate what you have done to us!

Warnings: Angst, A Lot of Angst! 🤔 Sorry about that😱

Word Count: Honestly no idea😱 will check next time🤩

Cover Art: Done by me 🐞 and the pic's from Pinterest and Canva 💕

Characters: Dean Winchester, Mention of Sam, and you❤️

"No Dean" I screamed, tears streaming down my cheeks.

"You don't get to look at me like that" I sniffed

"How could you do this to us?" Anger and sadness visible on my face

"Baby Listen" his voice low

With my hands on his muscular chest I shove him backwards, screaming now, "I don't need too listen, dammit, nothing you say is going to change a thing"

His emerald green eyes, is welled up, "just listen please" barely audible

"I hate you Dean" I say while throwing the ring on the floor

Taking a suitcase from the closet, tossing in any clothes I can find.

"You're leaving babe?" the distraught look on his face, caught you off guard

"Don't look at me like that, its your fault" you shove him out of the way walking to the bathroom to grab your toiletries.

He grabs ahold of your arm, spinning you around, and into his chest, "let me go," making my hands into small fist's, hitting against him, though it's not really doing anything.

His eyes pleading "sweetheart, please just listen to me, it didn't mean anything"

Squinting your eyes, "it didn't mean anything? Don't lie to me, Dean"

"I'm sorry" he claimed

"Yeah, your sorry I found out" I sneered

His jaw clenches, "no, babe, I'm serious it didn't mean a damn thing"

"Great so you threw all of this away for nothing" I smirked

"I was drunk okay! I didn't know what I were doing" his face full of guilt

Laughing a little "that's a lame excuse if I ever heard one"

You can't stand to be this close to him, hearing his heart beating, the way he looks into your eyes, the way his arms is holding you, you always were so weak when it came to him, it always were like some sort of special gift he had, making you putty in his big hands. But not today, not know, not after what he's done.

Trying to get out of his tight grip, you try to shove him backwards again, but he just holds you tightly, his voice revealing the sadness "do you really hate me"

Searching his face, his emerald green eyes, now, almost hazel like. Your voice brittle, tears streaming down my face "No, I... I don't really hate you, but I hate what you have done to us"

He thumbs away some of the tears, letting out a whisper, "I'm so sorry sweetheart"

"Sorry, just sorry, it won't work" you whisper - scream

"Then what will, baby" he asks

"I don't know,! nothing! The day you slid that ring on my finger, you swore you'll never betray me, break my trust, or trash my heart, guess what you did" getting angry all over again now "how could you" and with that you get out of his grip

Realising what he did, he just stood there, not making a sound, just listening to the sound of her crying, crying he caused. "Dammit" he cursed underneath his breath.

Taking her suitcase she walks out of their shared room, right to the door, glancing over the house she called home for the past five years, the memories they shared, the laughter, it's all gone now, in one night, he managed to erase five years of their lives together.

Dean runs towards her, "Baby wait, just stay, it's 3 in the morning, you can't drive like this" concern in his husky voice.

Glaring at him, "don't act like you care, if you did, you would have known, what yesterday was"

Dean, looks at her puzzled, following her eyes to the kitchen, he's jaw dropped when he saw the kitchen table, set and decorated for two, candles, placed with champagne flutes, and a bottle that was supposed to be on ice, a freshly baked pie in the middle.

"Babe, I'm"

"Don't finish that sentence, I'm so sick and tired of your sorries," I warned.

"I can't believe I was so naive, yesterday when you didn't show, I called Sam, he said as far as he knew you went for a drink, the case you worked on hit you hard, I was afraid you had to much to drink, and maybe gotten in a accident, but to my surprise, I found you with that... that, woman, her arms wrapped around you having a good time, how the hell could you do that to us, to me?" I screamed

"Babe, it meant nothing, I love you"

Tears flooded down my cheeks "no! Dean! You do not love me" you mumbled, "goodbye Dean"

"Please baby, don't go, don't leave me" he pleaded

He grabs a hold of your wrist, but you shake it loose, almost running towards your car, hearing him say something in the distance, but you reply with a shout "don't you follow me Dean Winchester" and with that you started the engine, put it in drive and drove off

In your rearview mirror, you see the man you loved, still love, standing there distraught look on his face, the blurriness of your glazed up eyes, makes it hard to focus on the road ahead, but you just drove further anyway, not wanting to stay there, the way he made you feel, the hurt, pain and betrayal is just to much.

Seeing taillights of her car, is just one too much, how is he going to fix this, why did he do what he did, "what am I gonna do" throwing a punch in the air.

He just stood there in the pouring rain, watching as the love of his life, went further and further out of his reach.

That's when he heard the tires screeching on the wet road, and then the heart wrecking loud noise, he just some how knew it was her. He ran, he ran as fast as his legs could carry him.

"Noooooo!" Screaming as he got closer, her car hanging over the road barrier, "Baby," he grabs ahold of her hand, her face bloodied, her legs pinned, her eyes, bloodshot from the crying, "Dean" she whispers with pain. "I'm here sweetheart, don't leave me, I love you" a half smile on his plum lips. With the closing of her eyes she whispers "I love you too Dean"

#spotify #jared padalecki #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #jensen ackles x reader #sam and dean #benny lafitte #castiel spn #dean winchester imagine #eileen leahy #bugsies #d nesca #oneshot #bingo #SoundCloud #jacklesversebingo23

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according2thelore · 4 months

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LITERALLY that "dad I'm gay and stronger than you" post had me like ..! my friend and I have been screaming for A Week Straight about the concept of Actual Child Monarch boykingofhell!Sam manifesting his powers early on and just. he and Dean figuring this is probably just another one of those Things We Don't Tell Dad. like, Sam who always knows where the radar traps will be on the interstate, and Sam jedi-whammying the motel clerk into forgetting their overdue payments... John flipping his absolute shit when he finds out; Sam being like "you can't stop me" and John being like "... You're /twelve/, yes, I can" and Sam being like "uh. you're just a guy, dad. I have all of hell at my disposal. do your worst, I guess???" John figuring that if he can't exorcize the hell outta Sam, he can at least make sure Sam can't get out of hell; telling Dean that he really tried but that the demonic forces killed Sam before John could save him; smash cut to early-20s Dean in his first year of solo hunting encountering a crossroads case, where the vics freak out anytime they're alone with him because "can't [he] see that massive fucking hellhound trailing after [him]?!" and the crossroads demon who can't believe who they're looking at when he finally gets them cornered. crossroads demon who smokes out under exorcism, but not before telling Dean "your brother wants to see you"

...anon...holy shit anon...

you are so correct!!

i think that in this situation (growing up with (to his knowledge) a dead sam, and a dad that "let" him die) dean would be more than passively suicidal. he doesn't care about himself, he failed. sam is dead. dean gets reckless, but he just barely avoids dying more than once, just a hairsbreadth.

he drinks until he can't walk straight, gets in the car, and wakes up in the motel parking lot. he goes half-cocked into a werewolf hunt, and he's sure that there's a werewolf behind him about to take him out (and isn't going to stop it, not really), but when he finally gets his finger around the trigger and turns around, the werewolf's ten feet away looking blank and confused. he puts a nominal effort into stitching up a bullet hole, doesn't even bother digging the slug out, and passes out in a random motel. next morning, the bullet's on the nightstand, and the stitches are even and tight. it's not enough to be completely concerned--hell, dean's borderline black-out drunk at any given moment, can't remember the last time he was completely sober--but it's...weird.

animals suddenly hate his fucking guts. dean used to tease sammy about it, about the fact that animals seemed to love dean and hate sammy. they would cringe away from sam's touch, skitter out from under his feet. birds would land on the impala if dean was driving, deer would poke their heads out of the woods if he walked past. but now...dean can't remember the last time he even saw a dog.

they just...flee. even at witnesses' houses, dean sees food bowls and chew toys and hears nails clacking on wood upstairs, but they tuck tail and run as soon as he knocks on the door.

after that first case, that first crossroads case where they name the thing, a Hell Hound...dean thinks it's bullshit. he's heard of black dogs, but this is new. it's weird.

he names it hooch. he and sam had seen that movie at a drive-in one summer, and he figures he's kind of fighting crime, right? he jokingly orders an extra patty on his burger and leaves it out for his imaginary dog, and the next morning it's gone. on the next hunt, the vampire doesn't even come within fifteen feet of dean before something rips its leg off at the knee.

when he calls the demon, it keeps looking down at dean's feet warily, back and forth, like something is pacing between them, something low. the demon keeps giving vague non-answers, distracted, and dean slaps his thigh, calls, 'hooch. down, boy.' and the demon...stops.

then those words...your brother wants to see you your brother wants to see you yourbrotherwantstoseeyou YourBrotherWantsToSeeYou.

dean is apoplectic. he finds the colt, finds the gate, heads into hell without a second thought, muttering to hooch the whole way (you better fucking rip some demons up you lazy son of a bitch).

sam's eyes are yellow, all the way through. bright yellow. he's huge. grown. beautiful. it's everything dean never thought he'd get to see. he dreamed about sam being this old, about sam having hands that dwarf a machete handle, of shoulders that blot out the stars.

sam doesn't react at first, knows that dad sent dean on a solo hunt before it all went down, but doesn't know how much dean knew about it, about dad locking him down here. dean doesn't even question why he's on a throne, why demons flank him on either side, heads bowed, why no demons even tried to stop dean from getting here, why they flinched away from him like something would swoop out of the dark and steal them if they brushed his shoulders.

"sammy," dean says--begs, really--for the first time in years, sam's smile falters. his eyes are hazel again, and his bottom lip trembles, and dean begs, "come with me, come home. please."

maybe it works, and they leave, and dean pulls sam into a hug so vicious that they both cry. maybe sam works from afar, and they relearn each other. their first hunt is ripping john winchester's head from his shoulders and trading kisses in his blood.

or maybe it doesn't. maybe dean stays, because they won't be separated like this, not again. the world's got other hunters, and dean has sam, and the rest of it can go fuck itself.

and sam has the life he's always wanted: power. respect. love. dean. (those last two are the same, really). and a dog, that keeps stealing dean's shoes.

anyway anon...much to think about...i love this...and you, coincidentally, mwah.

you and your friend galaxy-brained this one i fear.

-lizzy

#ask box #boy king of hell sam winchester #lizzy answers #wincest #wincest fanfiction #lizzy writes

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chokchokk · 9 months

Text

𝚛𝚒𝚍𝚎-𝚊𝚗𝚍-𝚍𝚢𝚒𝚗𝚐 | jung wooyoung x fem!reader

a one-sided (best) friends one night!wooyoung one-shot

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”

𝚜𝚢𝚗𝚘𝚙𝚜𝚒𝚜 : At least the car didn’t fall and crash, right? That’s what Wooyoung wants to believe.

"Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you."

[ now playing : " bonnie & clyde " ▸ dean ]

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎 : angst, smut

𝚠𝚘𝚛𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚝 : 3.2k

spotify link | series masterlist link

𝚌𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐(𝚜) : unreciprocated romantic feelings, sexual tension, best friends hooking up, one-night-stand, cabriolet-driving at night, open roof, illegal parking, making out, car sex; wooyoung masturbates to you, wooyoung’s present perspective/narrative, he's so horny and so in love, interactive?, at least quite confrontational

masterlist link | join my taglist

𝚊𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝚗𝚘𝚝𝚎 : aight um... i wrote this? in one heart-breakingly missing my hubba bubba daddy dean hours session. i skipped over the second verse out of length and plot purposes + the translations provided are like 80% mine and if not then from genius <33

always grateful for for your likes, reblogs and feedback xoxo!!!

𝚝𝚊𝚐-𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝 : @r1kitti : @sanniesbunnie : @northerngalxy @sanwhalvr : @revehosh : @fandems

He looked at you, even though Wooyoung knew he shouldn't.

Right now, right now Could I tell you right now?

His eyes should have been on the road, his hands should have been on the steering wheel, and haha, his thoughts should have definitely been about your safety and not about how he wanted to either drive off a cliff or tear the clothes off your amazing fucking body, but you picked the second choice yourself anyway, didn’t you? Just getting that shirt off like it’s nothing, revealing yourself like it’s nothing, but… God, Y/N, you are everything to him, he had no other choice.

아직까지 깨어있니? 오늘 너의 하루는 어땠니? 아무 일도 없긴 뭐가 없어

(Are you still awake? ; How was your day today? What do you mean, 'nothing happened'?)

Wooyoung wants it to be your fault. Wants it to be your fault that when you called him, his brain was filled with the image of you swimming in the ocean in that thing of a bikini that you wore to make your ex jealous even if he was not present on any day during the vacation except in your head, and he desperately wants it to be your fault that, after you had disappeared with some dumb-fucking rando from the beach-bar for the evening, Wooyoung scoffed in malicious glee that you let him know it hadn’t led to anything, grabbing his keys immediately to pick you up from the place you didn't find luck at.

What he’s trying to say is that you’re really in luck he didn’t grab that liquor that night.

가끔은 외면하려 해도 꽤 쉽지만은 않은 게 있어 I know 다 안다고

(I try to look away sometimes, but there are just some things that aren’t that easy, I know; I know it all)

But maybe being sober was the worst part.

He hid it well, Wooyoung thinks, or you were just too drunk to care, when you caught his curious gaze through the window, with your tits still sitting safely in the bra, your shirt already thrown out of the cabriolet.

“Woo!”, you laughed, and he can still hear the tenderness of your voice vividly, “eyes on the road~”

“Your tits looked bigger than I remember,” was his immediate answer, and your giggle was worth the cringe, “had to double-check.”

The last time he saw them was, what, middle-school truth or dare? Of course they grew since then, you were explaining in drunkenness and looked at your own set of boobs, while pushing them together, mumbling something about puberty, hormones and horny teenagers, but somehow finishing it off with, “Best friends bonding session!”

And Wooyoung is still puzzled about that.

내 앞에서 아닌 척 해도

(Even though in front of me, you pretend you don't)

Well, he grinned when you said it, but for no other reason that wasn’t just you looking so lovable under the moonlight, with your eyes sparkling with glee, and not because he found any sense in, god, whatever it means, “best friends bonding.”

“Bonding”? Sure. Seeing your tits had removed some boundaries— and in retrospect, mentioning that incident again must have been another little tease of yours, but be really honest for a second.

There are just some things “best friends” shouldn’t do.

… Shouldn’t have done, that is.

Bonnie and clyde, bonnie and clyde, one night

The nightly winds were hitting your open arms with you laughing full of life, when Wooyoung finally opened the roof for you. You’d been dying to do it, he had seen it by how you kept leaning outside the open window to feel the speed of the car hit your face, but he didn’t want to not see it. At least he still hates that he doesn’t know the expression you were wearing while you let out the most freeing, revivifying, crystal clear cheer.

He wants to believe that your cheeks were rosy, your eyes shiny, and that your lips were curled up into a smile, as you inhaled again and laughed all by yourself, watching the trees and mountains of the city pass by and draw long, ghostly trails from how fast the vehicle was moving.

It was extremely dangerous, all of it.

Who cares, who cares

The way Wooyoung drove without looking at the speed dial? God, so dangerous, but what’s way more dangerous is the way you became silent, and made him curious, made him believe that there were stars in the sky or something— and he thinks he’s still in the right for thinking that— and made him glance up to you.

Fuck, do you even know how hot you looked when you started to touch yourself down your bust? You probably don’t. You were feeling the textile of the lingerie scratch your fingers, warming your skin under the cold breezes, but when you cupped that perfect tit of yours, you threw your head back and fuck, he thinks if you had seen him you would think he was a pervert, and maybe he fucking is, because Wooyoung was definitely thinking the most perverted things he could do in that moment, all including his mouth, his fingers, his panging cock; Good fucking god, Y/N, you had his mind scorching, it only needed a little more spark and he would have exploded, right here and there.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

So of course he tried to keep it cool as possible. Rested one hand relaxedly on the gear, the other on the steering wheel, and attempted to stare blankly to the front. Wooyoung ignored how you were arching your back to match the flow of how the air brushed against your ribs, tried to ignore how you let your fingertips disappear under the bra, and failed to not think about how delicious your nipple would taste between his lips.

친구 사이 친구 사이 alright

(Just friends, just friends alright)

He couldn’t take it anymore– not being on you, in you, with you– and that’s why he said something.

“What do you think you’re doing there, bestie?”, Wooyoung remembers jokingly scoffing, driving into the highway so he didn’t have to think about the road too much, to give himself more time to admire the sexy body that you were touching.

“Nuthin~”, you lulled and he realizes now that Wooyoung had forgotten how drunk you’d been. Such a dumbass to think you were doing it all on purpose, isn’t he? You make him so fucking stupid.

“The guy really left you on the hook, huh?”, he spat, fingers gripping the wheel.

“Fuckin’ asshole left me so needy~”, you whined and maybe you tugged your own nipple or something, but he couldn’t have overhead that whiny, melodic moan that left your mouth.

“Yeah?”

“Mmhm~”

Who cares, who cares

What would you have done in his position?

That’s the thing Wooyoung is most curious about. If it had been him drunk in your cabriolet, feeling down his, whatever, his cock, wouldn’t you have offered a helping hand, too? Because you’re a good friend like that?

He will never know the answer.

도망가 도망가 너와 난

(Escape, escape, you and I)

Wooyoung drove faster to make you come down, he won’t even try to deny that.

With a loud, brutal vroom, he drove the last mile with so many thoughts pinging inside his mind, with you continuing to give yourself goosebumps all over your skin, admiring how the hairs on your body went up over your own touch— knowing that it could be him doing that made Wooyoung grow desperate.

“Why did you stop? Where are we?”, you asked, and Wooyoung remains having no idea. Just somewhere in the middle of the highway, with cicadas chirping and filling out the silence that followed after he turned off the car motor, the roof above you closing down. A few miles away, there would have been a legal parking spot waiting for him, but Wooyoung immediately unbuckled his seatbelt, so it’s safe to say he didn’t give a fuck.

“Still needy, bestie?”

Who cares, who cares

God, you were so needy. It’s like you didn’t wait a second to question him or get any reassurance that this was what had been on his mind, because maybe you had already seen his bulge to know he was needy too, or maybe— and this is what Wooyoung would like to believe— you just wanted him that much.

Fuck, cut him some slack, okay? Wooyoung was just that surprised to find you crawling over to his driver’s seat, planting your ass immediately where he needed it the most. It was fucking magical, the friction of your body grinded over his erection was making him grunt and grope your ass cheeks.

“Aw, are you gonna be my best friend in need, Woo?”, you giggled, getting your hands behind his neck, driving yourself into his hard-on that he didn’t know could get even harder. It extended painfully under his belt, but fortunately, you were too much in heat to let him wait any longer.

Till we die, till we die

“Shut the fuck up and let me fuck you,” Wooyoung cackled, and he still grins recalling how your gasp whirrs in his hazy memories.

It all feels so washed out, your impatient fingers unbuckling his belt, as Wooyoung bent the seat to the back, letting his head fall to his neck, as you got your lips pressed against his– just a lot of movements, a lot of feelings mixing up together, slurred into a motion of two people trying to have a fulfilling night.

Oh 너와 나의 마지막 일지라도

(Oh, even if this means our end)

Was it fulfilling to finally get a taste of your sweet saliva, your honeyed whimpers, when he grabbed you by your tits to prepare for sucking them numb? He doesn’t know it yet, but Wooyoung definitely can’t ignore how hard his cock has become in his boxer shorts to the memory of you looking down at him in awe, caressing his cheek, as he enveloped your perky tit with his mouth, immediately running his tongue over your sensitive nipple.

그럴지라도

(Even if)

The sounds, Y/N, your fucking sounds. Sounds Wooyoung thought he would never hear in his entire life, but definitely wished to hear once at least— and of course he’d be a fool to say he got enough of them, but making you whimper “Woo, fuck, please,” as he got his hand into panties and made you grind on his finger, and then hearing how your cunt squelched when you lowered yourself on it, is enough to make him cum tonight.

His hand is wrapped around his cock, face planted into his pillow so he can somehow simulate how it felt like being suffocated by your tits, Wooyoung recalls how tightly you clenched around his fingers, how wet you were, wet for him, just so fucking needy for your best friend, rutting your hips so his fingertip could graze your sweetest spot over and over again, moaning out “Wooyoung, Wooyoung, Wooyoung,” over and over again.

Would you remember me?

“Y/N,” he growls, and it feels embarrassing to do so, but Wooyoung can’t help himself, he’s becoming delirious because of you, the seam of his shirt becoming absolutely soaked in his mouth, as he bites into it. “God, fuck, Y/N,” he lisps again, thrusting into his hand in the same way he thrusted into you, right after you were trembling around his fingers, whimpering out your first orgasm but not being satiated.

Nah, nah, I'm just…

“You’re so fucking big,” is what you’d moaned out to boost his ego, but maybe it’s true, because Wooyoung does indeed feel quite big in his grip right now, craving your tight cunt, craving how it clutched around his girth, how hot and wet it felt like, when he fucked your eyes to roll behind your head, your spit glistening on your tongue, as your mouth fell open to never be closed again.

Alright 틀린 선택일지라도

(Alright, even if this is the wrong choice)

“Feels so fucking good, huh? Better than your dumb fucking ex?”

“Yes, so so much fucking better than his dumb cock, Woo, please don’t stop!”

And maybe that was the moment. The moment his head snapped, when it all fractured, his feelings, his five years of pining, watching you be with some dumb fucking pricks, when he, Wooyoung, your “best friend”, could treat you so much better.

With your hands taking off his hoodie, as he pistoned his hips into you, your warm sweat dripped onto his torso, and it felt like all the tears he’d shed for you had been worth it.

Alright 결국 후회할지라도

(Alright, even if we regret it after)

It didn’t matter how many tears he’d shed after, because the tears that flowed down your soft cheeks that night, with you weeping “make me cum, Woo, please make me cum so hard,” like he was pulling you by a string to mewl out words for him that still make his cock twitch, were precious droplets of your pleasure. And he’d do anything for it.

“Yeah?”, Wooyoung snickered, breathing into your face with a grin, feeling like he was owning the world by making you dumb on his dick, “You love my fucking cock, Y/N? You love your best friend’s cock?”

“Uh-huh, uh-huh,” you whined out, bouncing desperately over his hips that it was leaving your ass red, “I love your cock, Woo, I love it so, so, so fucking much!”

But somehow, you didn’t love it enough.

Oh baby Oh 널 울린 그 놈에게로 baby

(Oh baby Oh, even if you return to the guy who made you cry)

Wooyoung doesn’t want to think about it and just rut his pelvis into his hand so he can cum and unload in peace, but the thought of you being in his arms again, being used by your stupid fucking ex like a toy probably right fucking now, just makes him more aggressive, greedier, furious.

“Really? You love my cock, Y/N? You really love it?”

“Y-yes, W- Woo,” you moaned out, shakily, when he roughly pushed you over, your back landing on the steering wheel, a loud honk echoing through the empty streets. After Wooyoung’s eyes sunk in an angry, deep-seated red, it confused you, almost sobered you up, but of course you would turn sex-drunk in the matter of seconds, as he began to pound into you as if he was on a mission— a mission to make you remember.

Oh 이미 결과는 내 손을 떠났어 bang bang! (Oh, the result has been out of my hands anyways, bang bang!)

He could never cum like he did that night. It was raw, vulgar, dirty, filthy, absolutely pornographic how Wooyoung drove himself into you, moaning, grunting, breathing into your ear and sucking hickeys into your neck at every inch he got the chance to, so even if you’d wake up with the most hefty blackout, you could see what your best friend made of you in the mirror.

Just marks and signs of his infatuation all over your gorgeous body, and Wooyoung feels his jaw hurt, as he realizes how long he’s been biting down his shirt for imagining your love-bite bedecked breasts— Way too long, Y/N, way too fucking long.

Right now, right now Where you at right now

Five years, no, he counts a total of almost ten years of friendship with a sweet girl who remained fun and cheery, and then meeting her again as a woman who let herself be tossed around by some bastards because you don’t know what you’re worth, at least not worth to him.

Wooyoung felt rich with you. He felt like he had everything, when you wrapped your arms around him, once he’d unloaded his hot cum inside you with a moan that was lost immediately in the steamy, hot space of his car, and kissed him, kissed Wooyoung on the lips, just because you, well, felt like doing it? Everything.

“I love you, Woo…”

Where am I right now Girl

He’s so pathetic for thinking that you meant it.

I want, want you to know Babe I want you to know

“I love you too, Y/N.”

How much I love you How much I need you

But Wooyoung doesn’t stop.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t stop tensing his abdomen to his own touch, he’s given up on thrusting into his hand because it could never, ever feel like you, and Wooyoung spits into his hand again to somehow make him believe he’s being fucked by your wet cunt again.

How much I love you How much I need you

Wooyoung repeats it over and over again in his head, your voice, your words, “I love it,” “I love you, Woo,” and before he can feel his heart drop, his hand accelerates, running and speeding over his shaft and his eyes close down into a tight squeeze, cum spurting out his needy cock.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

The car still smelled of your sweet sweat, when he drove you to your place, lending you his hoodie because you, silly Y/N, had thrown your shirt out the window– and Wooyoung had sat there for a while, on his seat, staring into the the horn he had you pressed against, had you moaning his name his name against, had you cum, had you love him against.

How much I love you How much I need you

It’s sobering, yeah, that’s the word.

Wooyoung being the only one to see through your lies the second they leave your mouth, and while he knows that “I love you, Woo” had been the truth, “yeah, it’s better if we forget about it, I guess” was a ruthless fucking lie and he hopes you know that, when Wooyoung presses a bitter like on the beach-selfie you’d posted with him, presenting yourself in that bikini so you could finally catch a certain someone’s attention. “BFF4L” had been the caption. You little jokester.

Fucking heartbreaker.

I want, want you to know Babe, I want you to know

He doesn’t hate you, no, in fact, he hates that his cock immediately jumps back up once Wooyoung sees that picture again, with both of you smiling and grinning into the camera, holding each other arm in arm like two good friends are supposed to do, he hates that his hands remember how soft, sweaty and hot your skin felt under his touch, and Wooyoung hates himself that he was the one to have spoken out the question of, “we should probably forget yesterday, huh?”

He should have just shut the fuck up and fucked you again all his heart desired instead.

How much I love you

Maybe he’s really that slow, maybe he just didn’t catch how your face dropped a little bit when Wooyoung asked you to let go of the euphoric memories of feeling free, fiery and idolized in his car, return to the draining feeling of needing to be seen by other eyes.

It is a cruel task, but there’s a bond, a bond between you and him. A stupid bond which goes beyond the way you covered up your marks to meet up other men that summer– that stupid fucking bond which makes Wooyoung ready to grab his keys again, any time you call him out because he’s your best friend in need, your ride-or-die.

How much I need you

Wooyoung remembers you, even though he knows he shouldn't.

#jung wooyoung x y/n #jung wooyoung x reader #jung wooyoung smut #jung wooyoung scenarios #jung wooyoung imagines #jung wooyoung x you #ateez scenarios #ateez imagines #ateez x reader #ateez smut #chokkiwa #gotahotminute

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hawkeyetrained · 1 year

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Hold on Kid

Dean Winchester x sister!reader

Warnings: angst, death, slight blood mention, heartbreak, let me know if I missed anything

Summary: I suck at these and if I tried, I’d probably wreck it. Hunt gone wrong is the best description I got.

Word Count: 3,999

AN: This is my first post here so be gentle. Enjoy

Life as a hunter was complicated. Naturally, you make enemies with the monsters who knew those you killed. Some wanted revenge, others hated that their kind was killed. Then, there was being a hunter and a Winchester at the same time. Not only do you make normal enemies like all the other hunters, but you make enemies simply because of your last name.

I was the baby of the Winchester family, being nearly six years younger than Sam and almost a decade younger than Dean. After the fire at their home, John took his boys on a journey across the country to hunt down the monster that killed his wife and left him and his boys without a home. He met my mom five years later and after nine months, I joined the family, only for my mother to vanish one night. John had taken me on the road with them after she disappeared, often leaving me with Bobby while he took my older brothers to hunt the simpler cases.

Despite the age difference and the fact that we were “half” siblings, my brothers were the best people in the entire world. Sam and Dean treated me no differently than how they treated each other. I was let in on jokes and taken to diners and bars with them once I was old enough to drive, often driving a drunk Dean and a tipsy Sam back to our motel for the night.

They taught me to hunt the right way. Started me off on simple cases with plenty of back up, making sure I did all the research necessary and never went anywhere alone until they were sure I was capable of taking care of nearly every monster in the book. I was comfortable fighting off nearly any monster, all but djinns.

Those creatures scared the hell out of me. I knew that Sam and Dean had faced enough of them in the past, but I was still fairly new around them and the cases involving them. The fact that they strung up their victims and essentially trapped them in their own minds was horrifying to me, and I’ve taken heads clean off vamp’s bodies.

So, when a case came up that practically screamed djinn, the boys double checked with me every hour, asking if I was ok and still good to attack once the sun went down.

“Guys, I’ll be fine. They just creep me out.” I tried calming my worried brothers. “I can manage it.”

“We never doubted you on handling it.” Sam defended gently, cleaning his gun at the table of our motel room. “We just want to make sure you’re comfortable. We don’t want anything happening to you.”

“I mean, come on kid, we just want you to be safe. I know how much these things freak you out.” Dean added to the conversation from his laid-back spot on his bed.

I sent both brothers a soft glare. “And I appreciate that. But I’ll be fine.”

_____

Flash forward to a few hours later, I was sprawled out on the top floor of the large, abandoned barn, metal rebar sticking out of my stomach and my brothers firing shots down on the floor below me. We had been wrong on our intel, it was more than just one djinn, a whole family of six popping out of the shadows when we burst in. One of the younger women had caught me by surprise, nearing stringing me up but ended with a magazine of rounds to the head.

“Dean.” I tried calling out for my oldest brother, attempting to drag myself closer to the stairs so he’d be able to hear me over the fight. “Sammy.”

Neither of my brothers were answering, my head leaning back to rest against the floor as I took in a few deep breaths. My hands shook as I placed them around the metal, making sure to not move it but add enough pressure to the surrounding skin to help stop the flow of blood. I had been taught that keeping the object in could potentially save your life, especially if it were holding an artery closed.

With neither of my big brothers answering my desperate pleas for help, I resulted in closing my eyes and praying to the angel who kept tabs on us. “Castiel.” I spoke his full name. “Dean and Sammy can’t hear me. I need help. I think I’m dying Cas.” Tears gathered in my eyes as I spoke to the angel who had become a best friend over the years. “Please, I’m so scared Cas.” No answer came from the angel, but he was busy with heavenly issues that us hunters would never know of.

After a few more strangled calls to my brothers, heavy boots finally began climbing the stairs. “Hey kid, did you manage to take them…” Dean’s voice cut off abruptly when my eyes met his. “Kid. Sammy!” Dean practically growled down the stairs, rushing the last few steps and coming to a stop beside me. “Hey, kid, you ok? What happened?”

“She didn’t like my jokes.” I tried lightening the mood as Dean pushed my hands away to take in the damage. “Everyone likes my jokes.” Dean set his blade down on the floor beside me, yanking both his jacket and his flannel off, quickly balling the shirt material and pressing it down around the metal.

A pained scream ripped through my throat at the pressure, white hot pain exploding in my stomach. “I know, kid, but we gotta keep the pressure. You’re doing great.” He turned over his shoulder. “Sammy!” His green eyes met mine then, the fear and anger flooding the bright colors that always brought me comfort. “You keep those eyes on me kid, you hear me? Keep lookin’ at me.”

I couldn’t take my eyes off him even if I wanted to. Sure, Sam and Dean were my brothers, but they practically raised me when John was out hunting. Sam was the overprotective big brother in every sense of the term. He walked me to and from classes, dropped me off for any projects that needed to be done and practically ran background checks on all of my friends at school.

Dean, he was protective but in a whole other way. While Sam took on that big brother role, Dean was basically the father I wanted. He made sure I got to do kid stuff, pulled me from school to play hooky, sat with me after bad dreams, played with me as a kid, and sat with me for my first heart break. He was the one that taught me to drive, to hunt, and to live however I wanted. I could get away with absolutely anything with Dean since all he ever wanted for me was to grow up happy and loved.

So, staring up into Dean’s eyes as blood soaked into my shirt and coated his hands, I knew I was going to be safe, no matter the outcome of this injury. Dean would take care of me until the day I stopped breathing, he had just hoped that it would be a long time after he had gone.

“Hold on kid, Sam’s coming. He’s got what we need. You just hold on.” His eyes were fogged over with tears, and he aggressively rubbed them into his shoulders to clear his vision. “Kid, talk to me. I gotta hear you talk.”

“I love you.” I managed to get out, though I wasn’t sure he heard much of it. My hands had stopped shaking and a coldness was seeping into my skin as I watched Dean’s eyes widen ever so slightly.

“No, kid you gotta say something else. OK? That can’t be all you got for me.” His left hand moved from the wound and gently brushed some hair back out of my face. “You gotta tell me this joke that the bitch on the floor didn’t laugh at. I’m sure it was your best.”

The world was becoming foggy the longer I stared into the green eyes that always brought me comfort. They mixed into the slight green tint the ceiling had from years of neglect and abuse from the weather. Dean, my big brother, who was always there for me when I needed, who would drive all day and all night just to get to me after a fight with John or Bobby about hunting. The brother who literally went through hell to save Sammy and negotiated with a witch for my life. The father I always needed and wanted in my life.

The pain in my stomach had gone numb and my hands had pretty much stopped moving all together as I watched Dean scream for Sam yet again. “Come on kid, just a little longer. You hold on a little longer kid, I got you. Dean’s got you kid.” That nickname was something he only ever used for me. It was his term of endearment to the little girl he raised. “Talk to me, please.” The last word was a heart shattering plead that helped focus my eyes for one final moment.

“I love you dad.” The line slipped from my lips half a second before my eyes got too heavy to keep open any longer and the world faded into back.

_____

Dean’s sure he never cried so hard in his life. He had lost so many people throughout his life that he was pretty used to hearing news of someones passing. But watching the color leave his baby sister’s skin, watch the light drain from her eyes, and listen to those Earth-shattering words fall from her lips as she bled out into his hands sealed it for him. He had just lost his world, his little sister that he had raised practically since she was born; he just lost his little girl.

Sam came clomping up the stairs as quick as his long legs could carry him, just not quick enough. He swore his heart stopped in his chest when he found his older brother crouched over his younger sister, blood coating the floors, and sobs racking Dean’s chest. Sam’s chest felt like someone sent a fist straight through his ribs, ripping his lungs out in the process. His knees hit the floor a few feet from where Dean was crouched over, eyes locked on his older brother’s back.

Dead’s head came to rest against his sisters, near silent pleas to wake up falling from his lips as tears dripped from his eyes. Prayers to Castiel or any angel listening following. The oldest Winchester had told himself that he would never beg for anything, never allow someone to have that kind of control over himself, but here he was, begging to the body of his little girl and to any angel listening to let her wake up, to let her live and take him instead.

The soft, unmistakable sound of fluttering wings caught both Winchester boy’s attention enough for them to turn. There stood Castiel, with his big brother Gabriel at his side, watching the young girl on the ground continue to bleed, though much slower now, through the shirt of her oldest brother.

“Cas.” Dean had locked eyes on his favorite angel. “Please, there’s gotta be something you can do.” Castiel swears he’s never heard Dean Winchester sound this broken before, never heard him plead this softly. “I can’t lose her. I can’t lose my kid.” Another wave of tears fought its way up through Dean’s chest, nearly choking him on the sobs coming from his body.

Gabriel was at a loss for words. Never had he been around the Winchester boys and not get a snappy comment or crude joke thrown his way, but here he was, looking down at two very broken Winchesters. Gabriel could sense the pain and worry coming from his brother, knowing that the younger angel couldn’t do anything for the Winchester girl. Cas had only barely begun to learn how to pull someone back when they were in the veil and looking down on themselves, not quite taken by the reapers yet. So, with the flutter of his wings, Gabriel went off to do the one thing he knew could help the two brothers.

_____

The pain in my chest was unbearable as I watched Dean cry, his hands not leaving my wound, his voice faintly pleading for me to come back to him.

“I tried to stay with you Dean. I’m so sorry I couldn’t.” My voice was barely even a whisper as I tried to hold in my tears. Sam was knelt down a few feet back from Dean, tears staining his cheeks and making his hair stick to his face. “I’m so sorry Sammy.”

Everything around me seemed to move in slow motion. Sounds muddled together and lights seemed to blur the picture before me, but that all too familiar sound of flapping wings would grab my attention any day. I turned away from my sobbing brothers to face the Archangel Gabriel himself.

“Gabe?” A crack snuck its way into my words. “Is that really you?”

“Hey there sweetness.” He winked, arms crossing over his chest. “I thought I told you to stay breathing last I left.”

I nodded, instantly running over to him. His arms opened enough for me to slot myself against his chest, tears leaking onto his shirt. His hands came to rest on me, one against my back and one in my hair, pulling me closer to his body. “What happens now?” I questioned the angel as I held tighter to his waist.

“Well, we can hang here and wait for the reaper to come take you up to heaven, or…” I cut him off before he could continue.

“Or you can take me?” I questioned; my eyes now turned to get what I thought would be the last glimpses of my brothers.

Gabriel pulled back, hands on my shoulders to get me to look at him. “Haven’t I told you to let me finish before you jump to conclusions?” I nodded against his chest and waited for him to continue. “Or I could take you back to your brothers. Let you live a little longer.”

Everything in me froze, not believing what he said to be true. “You can do that? Bring me back?” His honey-colored eyes were already looking down at me when I turned to face him. “I can go back to them?”

He simply nodded to me. “As long as you promise to keep breathing for me.” I was nodding almost instantly to his request.

“Please. Please take me back.”

_____

The whole building grew silent after Gabriel had been gone for well over an hour. Sam sat staring at the back of his brother, waiting for Dean to do something. Dean had gone still moments after the archangel vanished, hoping with all his will that a miracle would happen.

The oldest Winchester had resorted to cleaning up his little sister as best he could, pulling the metal from her body and throwing it far, far away. The bloodied shirt had been tossed out of the way as well, her shirt and jacket now covering the fatal wound on her stomach in a way to make it seem like she was just sleeping. Dean’s fingers trailed softly over her head, pushing hair from her face, and trying to memorize everything he could about the young girl before they gave her a proper hunters funeral.

Castiel had yet to move since his older brother vanished, staying still as if he were carved from stone as he watched over the two Winchester men. He listened to every sound coming near the building for a ten-mile radius, making sure nothing tried sneaking up on the two while their world crumbled around them. He had wished he heard your prayer earlier, gotten back down to Earth faster, maybe then you would still be alive and sitting with your brothers, rather than coated in blood and ghostly pale.

The flap of wings pulled Castiel and Sam from their states of grief, watching a small smile flicker across the archangel’s face. Sam had half a mind to scream at the angel before movement caught his eye.

The blood soaking the floor around the body of the youngest Winchester slowly started to vanish, seemingly seeping back into the wound on her stomach. Then color began to return to her skin, slowly transforming it from a deathly grey back to her natural pigments.

It took a moment longer for Dean to notice the changes, having been so absorbed in caring for the body of his little girl. Once his eyes noticed the changes, his hands backed up from her, almost like she caught on fire. Both Winchester brothers scrambled to their feet, backing away from the girl who was laying so still seconds before.

With one last beat of silence, the wound on her stomach closed fully and her chest heaved with a huge breath of air.

_____

The world came back dramatically. All of a sudden, I could hear the soft drops of water from the ceiling again, feel the coldness of the hard floor below me and smell the horrible damp concrete of the walls to my right. Then my eyes fluttered open, and I could see the ugly ceiling that was decaying from years of abandonment again.

My brain raced as I tried to remember what happened. The hunt, a djinn, the metal rebar, Gabriel pulled me back. I died and Gabriel brought me back. Sam and Dean, they watched me bleed out on the floor of a hunt, watched me die on a hunt they knew I was already nervous for. Dean, he had been with me, he held my hand as the pain vanished and the world fell into silence. He had been with me as I died.

My lungs pulled in one of the deepest breaths I’ve ever taken, causing me to turn and cough loudly as I took the chance to breath more air in. My brain raced as it figured out how to work again, after moments of rest and complete silence it was working to catch back up on what was going on, and the only thing it seemed to think of was…

“Dad.” The word fell from my mouth before I could even process what was going on. Then suddenly I was being hauled up to my knees and crushed into the tightest hug ever given. Everything about the person was familiar, the way the arms wrapped themselves protectively around my shoulders, hand placed to the back of my head. The soft fabric of the green jacket wrapped around shoulders, and the scent of the hunt along with something so specifically Dean. I was wrapped in the arms of my oldest brother, wrapped up and secured in his embrace, protected from anything the world could throw at us.

His chest heaved with sobs, mumbles of my name and ‘kid’ falling from his lips. “I got you; I got you kid. I’m here. You’re ok.” The words fell from his lips in a jumbled mess, falling together in a mess of letters.

“Dean.” My words came out quietly as I hugged him back with everything I had in me. I clutched onto him as my own tears fell, coating my cheeks and making stains on his shirt as I pressed my face to his chest. Feet scrambled on the floor beside us and before I knew it, Sam was crushing me and Dean in the tightest hug he could manage. “Sammy.” I adjusted one arm to be able to hold onto both my brothers, all three of us a crying mess.

It took the three of us nearly a half hour to calm down enough to stand and face the angels. Sam had stepped a few inches away, wiping his cheeks with the backs of his hands as he turned to speak to Gabriel. “I don’t even know what to say.” His words were barely strung together as he glanced back at me.

While Sam had stepped a few inches back, Dean had yet to let me go. His arm had yet to fall from my shoulders and I was pretty sure he wouldn’t let me go for the next few hours, though I wasn’t going to complain. I had turned into Dean’s side, keeping my arms around his waist and my head leaned into his shoulder, tears still damp on my cheeks.

“Thank you, Gabriel.” I looked at the angel who pulled me back. “I can’t even begin to tell you how thankful I am.” Dean’s arm tightened around my shoulders, pulling me just a bit closer to his side.

“She’s right.” Dean’s voice was deeper than usual after all the crying over the last hours. “Thank you.” Sam agreed with his brother, going over to hug Gabriel tightly.

Cas stepped a bit closer, his hand coming to rest on my cheek. “I’m glad you’re alright. The area around is clear, you’ll be safe heading back to the bunker. We will keep watch over your drive.” And suddenly, the two angels were gone with a soft flap of wings.

“Sammy, can you get the car started and give us a sec?” Dean asked his little brother, holding tighter to me if possible. Sam gave a soft nod, pressed a kiss to my head and went down to wait in the car.

Once he was gone, Dean turned sharply to me. “I’m so glad you’re ok, kid. You can’t ever do that to me again.”

Dean’s hands rested gently on my cheeks, thumbs wiping away the drying tears from my skin. “I never wanted to leave you. I tried so hard to stay with you Dean. I really did.” New tears dripped from my eyes as I looked up at my oldest brother.

“I know you did, kid. I know.” I was pulled back into his chest, his hands rubbing into my back as I cried into his shirt again. “I got you now. I’ll never let that happen again, ok? I won’t ever let anyone put their hands on my little girl again.” My fingers twisted into the back of his shirt as he soothed me, helping me calm down and relax again. “So, can I ask about the dad comment?”

A soft laugh blew through my nose. “Yeah, you can.” I pulled back to look up into the green eyes that always brought me comfort. “John was never really there for me. You know?” He nodded softly at me. “I mean, you took me to my first day of school, you taught me to drive, you were the one who was always there for me.” My voice trailed off towards the end as I watched his face slowly stiffen into an emotion I couldn’t read. “Sorry, I’ve just always seen you that way, I guess it just slipped out today.”

“Kid, I’m not mad, or anything like that.” He gently brushed a few fingers through my hair. “I’ve always seen you as my little girl. I know I was there more than dad was. I know he barely had anything to do with you. There’s nothing I want more than to be your dad, even if you just call me Dean, that doesn’t matter.” He took a deep breath. “I want to be the one you call when you need help or come to when you’re scared. I know you’re not exactly a kid anymore, but just know that I’ll always be there for you. You’re my kid.”

I didn’t even answer, just lunging forward and wrapping him back in a tight hug. “I love you, dad.”

His hands held my head to his chest tightly, a kiss being pressed down into my hair as we held onto each other. “I love you too, kid. Don’t you ever forget that.”

@thetallassgirl

#spn imagine #dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister #sam winchester x sister #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #castiel #gabriel

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catindabag · 6 months

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TBOSAS on Crack short take (44)

Festus: Hi, Coryo, my cabbage loving bestie, how’s life?

Coryo: Not good, not great, not terrible. How’s detention?

Festus: Great!

Coryo: You skipped it again, didn’t you.😒

Festus: As always.😌

Coryo: Well, good for you-

Festus: Me and Pup are planning to dumpster dive today. Wanna join?

Coryo: Sure. I’ll go. Free food is free food.

Festus: Exactly!

Coryo: But which dumpster are we raiding now?

Pup: Highbottom’s.😌

Coryo: Sign me up! Let’s go-

Apollo: Hey, guys, can we join too?

Diana: Pretty please?🥺

Festus: The more the merrier!

Coryo: But Seriously, guys, we should go now before Highbottom finds out and punish us again-

Sejanus: Hey, Coryo, my ✨LOVE✨, can I dumpster dive with you too?

Coryo: Why would you want to dumpster dive for food? You’re rich-

Sejanus: But I’ll protect you-

Coryo: From what? From rats??

Sejanus: Yes! So please take me with you!🥺🙏

Coryo: Okay, Babe. You can be our lookout.

Sejanus: Yey! Thanks, Coryo, my love, you’re the best!😘

Coryo: Sure. Whatever you say, Babe.

Pup: By the way, whose car are we taking?

Festus: Sorry. We can’t take mine. My mama said no.

Sejanus: My scheming old man will strangle me if he ever finds out.

Apollo: I only have a tiny scooter.

Diana: Me too.😞

Coryo: Well, don’t look at me. You all know that I don’t have a car-

Sejanus: I can give you one, my love!

Coryo: Not now, Babe.

Diana: Oh, I have an idea! We should just borrow Highbottom’s car instead!

Festus: Or Livia’s hot pink limousine.

Coryo: The one that sparkles under the sun?

Diana: How about we take both?

Apollo: That’s brilliant!

Sejanus: But we don’t have their car keys-

Androcles: Luckily, I already have them with me.😎

Apollo: Andie?!

Coryo: When did you get here?!

Festus: Shouldn’t you be in detention with me?!

Androcles: Detention? Never heard of her. But anyway, I got Livia’s sparkly car keys-

Diana: You stole them.

Androcles: Of course~.😏

Pup: But how did you get Highbottom’s?

Androcles: Felix gave them to me for safe keeping after that last fiasco-

Coryo: You mean that infamous ✨WinterFest✨ incident where drunk Highbottom tried to ram his car into Heavensbee Hall when Strabo Plinth asked me to dance with him?

Sejanus: To be fair, my drunk old man thought you were the infamously gorgeous Crassus Snow.

Coryo: Don’t remind me.😞

Androcles: Yup! That’s the one.

Apollo: Well, Andie, can you drive?

Androcles: No. But I have this fake driver’s license that I’ve stolen from Dennis last week. So-

Pup: That’s a yes for me!

Festus: I’ll drive!😎

Apollo: But I wanna drive.🥺

Diana: I call shotgun!

Coryo: Could be worse. Let’s go, Babe.

Sejanus: Best day ever!😍

*Hours later, inside Casca’s office*

Prof.Sickle: Sir, I think you need to turn on the news.

Casca: Why? It’s too early for me to watch Weather Boy embarrass himself in front of Panem-

Prof.Sickle: Just turn on the TV.

Casca: Ugh! Fine! There-

Lucky: Breaking News! Seven students from a certain Capitol Academy were caught recklessly driving the exclusive hot pink limousine of Monster Cardew- I mean, Mrs. Cardew!

Casca: I’m pretty sure those idiots don’t go to my school-

Lucky: Mr. Snow, are you aware that reckless driving is a serious crime?

Coryo: They just kidnapped me and my boyfriend, officer!

Sejanus: We’re innocent!

Pup: I don’t know these people!

Apollo: I’m too pretty for prison!

Diana: Livia gave us permission!

Androcles: You can’t arrest me! I’m a minor!

Festus: Dean Highbottom made us do it!

Lucky: Ok. Well, you heard it from them, folks! Dean Highbottom made them do it! Back to you, Malmsey!

Casca: FML.😩🔪

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alexsoenomel · 7 months

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Sam Winchester Headcanons:

Sam loves being taller than you

Is a hugger

He loves going on walks with you

You and Sam having discussions about books you’ve read

Quiet book readings whenever you have free time

He loves learning from you

You love learning from him

Sam letting you wash his hair

Doing skin care together because you said so

Occasionally Sam convincing you to go on a morning jog with him

He always wakes up before you and makes breakfast

Coffee dates…with Dean (sometimes)

Hiking together

Sam loves being the big spoon

Letting you sleep on his chest

He loves to play with your hair

He loves being in control

Sometimes refusing to talk about what’s bothering him because he doesn’t want to worry you

He loves taking you on night drives when you’re not feeling well

I love you’s during sex

He loves talking about future plans with you

When he gets drunk he can get too philosophical and you shut him up with kisses

He gets flustered when you randomly tell him how hot he is

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deanwritings · 2 years

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Drunk Words, Sober Thoughts

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,190

Summary: Drunk!Dean taking care of Drunker!Reader when a few confessions slip through loose lips.

Gif:

A/N: This has been in my draft for like 6 years (!!) and all I had the entire time was a gif and a very vague summary. Glad to finally be getting this published!

It was Friday night, and as Dean put it, a “snow day” -- a rare time when you had no cases and everything was quiet in both heaven and hell. The three of you decided to have a little fun and unwind, heading to the closest bar.

There was an air of excitement on the drive there. It wasn’t very often you had a chance to just enjoy life. There was usually some case or some crisis that took up your time and attention, but today, for this weekend, there was radio silence, and you were going to enjoy your chance at a normal night out that didn’t involve celebrating a dead monster or drinking away your own demons.

As the three of you walked into the bar, the room was decently crowded as normal people with normal jobs had already let out for the day and everyone had the same idea to relax. There were a few dart boards and pool tables, as well as an old school jukebox filling out the spaces that weren’t patrons. Dean headed for the bar as you and Sam managed to grab a table in the middle of the crowd, and despite the crowd of strangers surrounding you, you were just happy to have a seat.

Music and conversations boom around you as Dean arrives to your table with three beers and three shots of whiskey.

“Bottom up,” Dean toasts and the three of you throw back your shots. Dean slams his empty glass on the table while Sam sets his down nicely. The whiskey burns down your throat and makes you gag, causing Dean to laugh at you.

“You good there, Y/N?” His eyes light up with amusement as he watches you, a smug smile on his lips as your eyes well up.

“Peachy,” you choke, your hand slapping your chest. You never enjoyed shots, but you weren't going to be the Debbie Downer who didn’t partake in the fun.

Dean’s hand lands on your back and he pats you a few times while you give him a tight smile, downing some beer to ease the whiskey’s burn. As his hand lingers, the pats turn into a rub and you feel your cheeks heat up. You raise the beer bottle to your lips to try and hide your blush as Sam raises his eyebrows and Dean’s hand suddenly falls from your back.

After your first shot, the three of you decide to play some drinking games instead of reminiscing about old hunts, taking the opportunity to forget that part of your lives, even just for a night. First up was Never Have I Ever, with all of you losing at some point. Sam managed to beat you with his nevers of more normal things; “Never have I ever been skiing,” or “Never have I ever owned a pet.” You managed to beat the boys, mostly Dean, leveraging their years of experience against them; “Never have I ever had a threesome,” and “Never have I ever slept with someone I saved.” And Dean, while, Dean ended up drinking the most out of all three of you as it turned out there wasn’t too much he hasn’t done.

After a few rounds you decided to keep it simple with a game of Fingers. All you had to do was put your finger on a glass filled with beer in the middle of the table, this one filled with Bud Light because whoever lost had to chug the whole thing, and Bud Light went down like water, and then you took turns guessing how many fingers would be on the cup’s rim at the end a “three, two, one” countdown. It wasn’t a difficult game, but things easily got heated when you screamed at Dean for not moving his “fat fingers” and Sam accusing the two of you of plotting against him telepathically to get him drunk.

Before you knew it, one beer to turn into three, then three into five, with Dean closer to 10 and Sam now onto water since “someone has to get us home safely.”

After the drinking games, you and Dean moved to an empty dartboard, the stakes high as the loser had to take a shot. Which of course ended up being you. You played him a second time, hoping to redeem yourself, but met the same, unfortunate fate.

Now, the two of you had wandered over to the pool tables, really hoping billiards would be your game. You normally didn’t beat Dean, but you were hoping him having a few more beers than you would make up for it. Plus, the few beers and shots you had already downed were making you feel more confident in your abilities. But as you bent over the table, trying to line up your shot, you couldn’t quite seem to align your stick to the cue ball.

“Fuck,” you mumble under your breath, straightening up and rolling back your shoulders before trying again.

“Something wrong, sweetheart?” Dean saunters over, a new beer, and the loser’s shot, in his hand. His hair is sticking straight up after you had ruffled your hand through the front of it after you lost the second time in darts, attempting to give him some sort of noogie, but his height made it near impossible for you to fully reach. He was laughing so hard at you, he had completely forgotten to fix his hair afterwards.

You look up from your stick to see a dopey, drunk smirk on Dean’s face as he rests against the pool table, only a foot or so from you. Your heart rate spikes as his green eyes look down to you, and you swallow the lump in your throat you hadn't realize appeared.

“Just getting ready to beat your ass, Winchester.” You slur slightly and turn back to the felt. You pull back your stick and release, the cue rolling across the table, lightly brushing your six ball before coming to a stop.

“Damn it,” you mumble, your head falling as Dean chuckles.

“Guess I’ll keep waiting for that ass kicking,” Dean smiles down at you confidently as he takes the stick from your hands.

He places his beer on the edge of the table and lines up his shot, sinking in his last three balls before pocketing the eight ball, ending the game.

“Fuck,” you rub a hand down your face as Dean carries over yet another losing shot to you.

“Drink up,” Dean smirks and you glare up at him as you rip the shot from his hand, some splashing onto his boot, before you throw the glass back and let the alcohol burn down your throat.

“Ugh,” your groan, sticking your tongue out at the taste, hoping the air will cool the burn, and handing the shot glass back to him. “Stop being mean to me, Winchester.” You start to slur again.

Dean laughs, a full belly, carefree laugh that you rarely get from him.

“It’s not my fault you suck at darts and pool.” You two start walking back to your table, bumping into each other as you go.

“I don’t suck,” you say confidently, despite your loss. “I could beat anyone else here,” your arms goes wide as you gesture wildly to the bar. “I just can’t beat you because you,” a hiccup bubbles in your chest, and you place a hand over your mouth, swallowing it down. “You’ve been playing these games since you were like, like a baby.” The words lazily roll off your tongue.

Dean lets out a quiet laugh as you approach the table and a much more sober Sam.

“You guys ready to go?”

After paying the bill, Sam managed to corral you and Dean towards the Impala, and as soon as the car came into sight, you ran ahead of Dean and yelled “shot gun!” as you stumble to the car.

“No way in hell, Y/N,” Dean quickens his pace to catch up to you. “I’m not riding bitch in my own car.” He points his finger at you.

“Riding bitch is, is sitting in the middle of two people, you doof.” Your lips flutter over the “f” as you open the car door and start to step inside. “And yeah, you’re in the back,” you hop into the passenger seat as Dean stands outside your door. You pull the door shut and Dean jumps back a bit. Sam slides in next to you behind the wheel while Dean continues to stand there.

“Get in the car, Dean,” Sam orders his big brother.

With a few indiscernible grumbles along the lines of “riding in the back of my own god damn car that I built with my own god damn hands,” Dean finally gets in the back seat behind you and huffs, crossing his arms.

“Finally won something,” you throw over your shoulder with a smirk.

Dean makes a mocking face at you, mouthing your words from the back seat and you laugh as the engine roars to life.

Thankfully the drive home doesn't take too long and as you pull into the bunker’s garage, it’s starting to get harder to keep your eyes open as you lean your body against the door.

Sam and Dean open their doors, pulling themselves out as you look at Dean through the passenger window.

“C’mon sweetheart,” Dean’s voice is mumbled through the glass. “Time to get to bed.”

“I’ma sleep here,” you mutter, sinking further into the door, your eyes feeling heavy as they finally close. You rest your head against the window as your body falls into a steady rhyme.

“Y/N, you can’t sleep here, and your bed is like....100 feet away.” You hear Dean’s voice drawl, and you just hum in response.

All of the sudden you’re falling, the support of the door ripped away from you and you slide out of the car onto the floor.

“The fuck, Dean,” you moan your hand shielding your eyes from the bright lights of the garage.

Dean chuckles and reaches down to grab your arms as he gently lifts you up to stand.

“C’mon drunky, let’s get you to bed.” Dean chuckles as you lean against him, your eyes closed as he begins to walk you both from the garage.

“Tanks, Dean,” you turn your head against his shoulder, nuzzling your face against his soft flannel.

“Least I can do considering this is a bit my fault.”

“Yeah!” You push yourself off Dean, staring up at him with half opened eyes. “You, you got me drunk,” you push your finger into his chest. “Tat’s,” you swallow, “that’s not very nice, Dean.”

Dean smiles down at you.

“Yeah well lucky for you,” his hand travels down to your waist as he helps you down the library steps, holding you tight against him so you won’t fall. “You’re cute when you’re drunk.”

You immediately try to stop, your hands coming up to Dean’s chest as your feet trip over themselves.

“What the --” Dean starts.

“You, you think I’m cute?” You interrupt. Dean’s cheeks heat up as he looks away, not realizing what he said, but that dopey grin from earlier returning.

“Let’s just get you to bed, yeah?” He starts to move you again but you plant your feet, frowning.

“But you think I’m cute,” you slur, leaning against him again and you hear him laugh quietly.

“And I think you’re really drunk right now and you need a good night’s sleep.” This time he starts moving you again, and you continue down the hallway until you reach your room.

Dean pushes the door open and guides you inside until you’re sitting on the bed.

“Why don’t you get comfortable, sweetheart,” Dean instructs as he walks out of the room.

You frown at the empty doorway and fall back onto your bed, staring up at the lights in the ceiling, closing your eyes.

Suddenly you hear footsteps returning and you open your eyes as Dean places a glass of water and a bottle of Advil on your nightstand.

“You gonna be okay, Y/N?” Dean looks down at you and you hum and nod your head as your eyes close again, your head rolling to the side.

You jump when you unexpectedly feel a hand on your ankle and you look down to see Dean untying your boots. You just continue to stare as he pulls the first shoe off and starts on the second. Once you’re left in your socks, he grabs both of your ankles and swings your legs onto the bed, your whole body shifting until you’re vertical.

Dean runs a hand along your head, his fingers brushing along your forehead and into your hair, and your eyes flutter close again.

“Hey Dean,” you call out, not even feeling the words leave your lips, or realizing that Dean was still by your side. “I love you too.”

“Night, sweetheart.” You feel warm lips press against your forehead, and you sigh in response, sleep finally taking over you as Dean flicks the lights off and gives you one last look, a soft smile on his face, before he closes your door for the night.

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