#Sam Winchester Birthday Celebration
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Sam’s wall breaks, and he won’t stop screaming.
it's his birthday so you KNOW i had to whump my boy
Blood droplets fly out of his mouth with wracking coughs as he chokes on hurried inhales, mucosal spit gumming up his trachea.
It’s been two days and fifteen hours and Sam won’t stop screaming.
It’s been two days and sixteen hours and Sam won’t stop screaming.
The only times he’s been silent in the last two days and seventeen hours is when he’s unconscious. The first bout - four hours and twenty-three minutes of silence - Dean’d just clocked him in the jaw when it was clear Sam was going to scream himself into involuntary suffocation - diaphragm and abdominal muscles locking up from the abuse. Dean knocked him unconscious for those four hours and twenty-three minutes, after six hours of his weeping and gnashing of teeth.
By the time he had woken up, Dean had shots of sedative and they were two hours into a twenty-eight-hour drive to Bobby’s - if nothing else, Dean’s efficient. Sam didn’t take notice.
And if the sounds he won’t stop making can be described as screaming, then the sounds he makes when Dean has to touch him while he’s awake can only be described as a death wail. Wailing and scrambling to get away from Dean with a fervor that earns them both violent shades of bruises.
It’s been two days and twenty hours and Sam won’t stop screaming.
During the drive, whenever Sam’s anguish would escalate back into hair-tearing, along with beating his fists against his arms and thighs and threatening to bash his head into the windows of the Impala, Dean would pull over to force another dose of sedative into him.
The sounds he makes while Dean tries to subdue him… Well, even in the most remote location on their route, Dean was afraid the farmer whose house they could just barely see in the distance would be able to hear. It had to have been at least three miles away, with how flat the land was, and Dean was still worried that someone would hear.
Sam won’t stop screaming, and his screams are deafening- except when he’s unconscious, from the shots Dean gives him, the screaming is just in Dean’s mind. A haunting kind of tinnitus that rings in Dean’s ears, just as nauseating as the real deal, but a touch less heartbreaking.
He only allows himself to sleep for the first few hours of Sam being down for the count, despite the catatonic state that seemed to have taken over him. Dean wasn’t about to risk Sam waking up without him. They sleep together in the car, in the weeds and the bramble off of back roads, hidden from view. Baby’s paint has never been so scratched up.
It’s been two days and twenty-three hours and Sam won’t stop screaming.
They’ve been at Bobby’s for the last twenty-four of those, trying to hold back on the sedative, because god knows they can’t keep it up forever or Sam’s heart is liable to just straight up quit, so they’ve been rationing it. Walking the nerve-wracking line between acceptable amounts of incomprehensible human suffering and causing an overdose that could just kill Sam, for good this time.
On the 72nd hour - that’s two days and twenty-four hours, or three days and zero hours, or 4,230 minutes and zero seconds, or 259,200 seconds and -
It’s been three days and zero hours, and Sam is awake, but he stops screaming.
And on the third day he will be raised…
Dean rushes over to check on him, but Sam is still breathing, heart still beating, body still holding itself upright, and he’s stopped screaming.
Now, though, two lines of salty tears trail down his face. For all his hysteric shrieking over the last three days, through all the rocking and swaying and the occasional distinct syllable of “no” over and over again, he hadn’t actually shed a tear, until now.
It’s been three days and zero hours and Sam’s tears are silent.
He’s staring far off into the distance - into the wall that’s four feet in front of him - and he is silent. Even his gasps are inaudible. No sniffling, not a single huff or quiver of breath. Just tears.
It’s been three days and zero hours and two minutes and both Dean and Bobby are in the room now, staring at Sam with undisguised fear-horror-confusion.
They stare at him and he begins to shake. Lightly, at first, but it grows. It always grows. Sam is silent, and he’s shaking, and his eyes stream tears with the consistency of a downpour, and Dean moves back in front of him. He’d stepped away to yell for Bobby out the door when it looked like Sam would live after his abrupt descent into silence. Dean steps back in front of him and reaches out to touch Sammy, and now Sam’s not silent. A three-minute silence and now it’s broken by Sam scrambling backward with a gasp that’s really more of an inhaled moan of fear, hastening back so far that he pushes off of the bed he’d been sitting on.
He crashes to the floor, out of Dean’s reach even as the man leaps forward with a cry of, “Sam!”
But Sam’s flight had been too fast, so he crashed to the ground and has now fallen silent again, but Dean can’t tell if there are still tears because Sam has wedged himself into a ball in the crease between the floor and the wall, form-fitting his back and ass over the baseboards hard enough to bruise. He’s hiding his face in his knees, still trembling, but still silent, so Dean can’t tell if the tears have stopped. He isn’t sure if that would be better or worse.
Because now it’s been three days and five minutes, and Sam’s curled up in sublimation.
He’s crammed against the wall, his knees are up in front of him, spread only far enough to shove his head between them - but down quite far, uncomfortably so, contorted - but his hands aren’t curled up like the rest of him. Instead, his hands are held out around his legs, stretched around them and then upward, palms out like he’s receiving something sacred. Or like he’s giving it away.
It’s been three days and six minutes and Sam is trembling in sublimation.
The room is silent, Dean and Bobby don’t know what to do, but he isn’t hurting himself and he isn’t screaming so they wait him out.
It’s been three days and thirty minutes, by the time anything happens.
At first, Bobby thinks it’s the creaks of his house. At first, Dean thinks it’s the creaks of his soul. They’re both wrong, they realize, as the sound is actually coming from Sam, but it reverberates in such a way that it’s equally loud from every corner of the room. Dean wonders, faintly and somewhat hysterically, when Sam learned ventriloquy.
It’s a low but resounding utterance, indistinguishable at first, but becoming more distinct with every syllable, losing its eerie ambience and beginning to actually come from Sam as its focal point. Whatever Sam is saying, deep into his chest in a tone that aches, becomes clearer, but neither of the other two men can understand it.
Sam’s palms are still held up in front of his shins. His head is still shoved between his knees, and he’s still trembling. He finishes his recitation but doesn’t fall silent. Instead, he switches to a language that Dean realizes with a jolt that he can understand the words, seconds before Bobby realizes it, too.
“Pater noster, qui es in שְׁאוֹל, sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua, sicut in שְׁאוֹל et in terra.”
A sickening aura falls over the room as both lucid men hear the exceptions to the otherwise familiar prayer. “On earth, as it is in שְׁאוֹל,” Sam had said. Sheol, the subterranean final resting place. The pit. “The place of no return, the land of utter darkness and deep shadow.”
Hell.
Our Father who art in the pit of utter death and darkness…
It’s been three days and one hour by the time Sam finishes his contritions.
By then, he’d recited that first chant in the same unknown language twice more, alternating it with the Latin rendition of the Lord’s prayer.
Hallowed be thy name…
Dean has a gnawing, sinking feeling in his gut that he knows exactly what that other language is.
Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done, on earth as it is in שְׁאוֹל, the deep shadow.
The cadence, the tone; they’re the same. Distorted by the foreign, guttural tones of the other language, but they cut through Dean with the same taste. Sam is repeating the same thing over and over again, just in alternating tongues. The familiar Latin combined with the unfamiliar, grating timbre of the other.
The repugnant language of the wretched Divine.
Those accursed, winged beasts, just like the one his brother, his Sammy has been locked up with for an earth-year. And who knows what that timeline looked like, in the depths? Nothing sears in your mind quite like the crushing realization that virtually no real time has passed when you return from it, Dean remembers. The rock constantly lodged in the base of Dean's chest, taking up space where his lungs are supposed to go, which screams out, your pain was never real.
Did time distort further the further down you went in hell? Was Dean’s 40-year stint a mere blink in the face of the time Sam had been locked up with that thing that did this to him?
The only reason Dean’s stomach isn’t on the floor in front of him is because his stomach is empty, the pervasive ache of the last few days locking it up tight. Sam has been screaming and Dean hasn't been eating, but he's never been less hungry in his life.
It’s been three days and one hour and Dean’s been crying for every single second of them.
The wailing and screaming had gouged at him, in that way little baby's cries gouge at unsuspecting figures passing by, striking that deep, maternal cord within them. The same way little toddler-Sam’s cries had always gouged at Dean. The same way, too, that not-so-little teenaged Sam’s sniffles into his pillow that he thought were muffled had always gouged at Dean.
If the screams had been gouging at him, this reverent recitation was gutting him. Viscerally, like a fish being pulled sharply off of a too-big hook that it had somehow managed to swallow down too far. Catch and release turned into a pitiful horror.
But it’s been three days and one hour, now, and Sam’s finished his latest round of the Lord’s prayer - Latin this time - and he’s fallen silent again.
His hands are still held out, despite how bad it must make his shoulders and wrists ache with the tension of his stillness. Before Dean can think to do anything, though, Sam continues, but he breaks the pattern. Instead, his voice is much shakier now, and he starts to plead, the only term applicable to the tone of voice Sam has taken on: wretched, and full of supplication. Pleading, in Latin still,
“Elohim, Messiah - Please take this temptation from me. Please, as you have so graciously promised, benevolent Savior, tempt me not with this Sin of the Flesh. I am too weak, Father. This temptation is too great and I cannot bear it.
Temptation? Father?
The formal tone rankles. The self-deprecation vexes. The use of Father to refer to the most foul being to ever walk above and below the earth seethes and horrifies. Dean is rankled. Dean is vexed. Dean seethes, and he is horrified.
“Take Him from my sight, יהוה, keep me away from His fraternal presence, please, Lord. Balm though He is to my soul, grateful though I am for this offering, I am too weak to refrain from Sin.”
Fraternal? Sin?
“I would naught but bastardize this precious gift, and thine hand wilt be forced against me, as thou shalt flay me apart; dissect me to make penance for my transgressions. I do not wish this, Father, so please: Take Him from me, do not allow my wretched Sin to pervade in thine realm.”
Just because Dean’s stomach is empty doesn’t mean it isn’t trying valiantly to make an appearance. At the word “fraternal,” Bobby had started pushing him out the door. Stunned, Dean hadn’t fought back. There’s bile on Bobby’s hardwood floor outside the bedroom Sam and Bobby were still in.
Sam spoke as if Dean’s presence was the temptation, one too great to bear. And he spoke as if to God, but Dean knew better, he knew where Sam had been. Where Dean let him go. No gods to be seen, not there. What Sin had Lucifer contrived between them, to make Sam pay penance for? What occurred between them for Sam to be… Flayed alive. Dissected.
Dean’s not stupid enough to believe that's anything but literal.
Bobby swings the door mostly-closed just in time for Sam to finish his pleas and lower his arms.
It’s been three days and one hour and ten minutes, and Sam raises his head.
Dean watches through the crack in the door, concealed in the darkness of the hallway. He’s holding his breath and he’s not sure he’ll ever forgive himself for not rushing right back to Sam's side. But something is holding him back, and he doesn’t want to name it.
(Fraternal… Sin?)
Sam raises his head but keeps his eyes scrunched shut - tears and snot are dripping down his face, which is a blotchy red but somehow still pallid with fear. He’s shaking worse than before as he straightened his back out, sitting up and letting his legs fold down so he’s cross-legged. Not relaxed, but no longer contorted. Finally, he releases a shaky breath and opens his eyes, pointing down at the floor.
Bobby shifts his weight purposefully and Sam’s eyes fly to him with a wild flinch of fear. It hangs in the air uncomfortably long before he recognizes the man in the room with him, and he lets out a sob of what Dean hopes is relief.
He quickly bows his head and shifts up onto his knees in a simple prayer position, hands pressed together in a booklet of gratitude as he sobs out, “Thank you, Messiah, Morningstar. Thank you.”
Then, with a big sigh, he allows himself to look back at Bobby, but his gaze is clinical, observing. He whispers, through his hitching, wet breaths, “He did it. I can't believe he did it. He’s gone. I don’t have to do it again, not yet.”
Sam’s face crumples as he’s hysterical with relief, and Dean’s clawing his own arms raw and bloody outside the door, desperate to get to the crying baby and soothe it, desperate to kiss toddler-Sam’s scraped knees, desperate to tell teenage-Sam that nothing will ever change the way Dean feels about him, despite whatever darkness he seems to think is inside of him. But still, he’s held back by that unspeakable Sin between them. Lucifer didn’t contrive it, Dean knows that. He holds himself back.
Bobby speaks up then, gruff and wary, “Don’t have to do what, yet?”
Sam startles before finally, really looking at Bobby like he’s a human on the same plane of existence as him, not like he’s a mildly interesting fixture on a non-existent wall.
“Nothing, don’t worry about it, Bobby. It’s good to see you,” Sam cracks a smile, and it encapsulates one thousand shades of grief.
Sam continues quieter, once again to himself, “I wish it wasn’t like this. I’m sorry. So, so sorry. But you’re not Him, so it’s fine, it’s fine…”
Bobby squints at him long and hard, eyeing his more relaxed posture and at least somewhat lucid speech - odd though it may be - before he glances at the crack in the door and gives a tiny eyebrow raise that says, get your ass in here.
Dean slowly cracks the door open and calls out to his baby brother, just as he comes into view, “Sammy?”
His reaction is violent. If Sam was pallid before, he’s now a putrid shade of green, face twisting up in horror as he shakes his head, wringing his hands and mumbling out at first, devolving quickly into yells into the aether, into the corners of the room, “No! No, no- please, you promised, no-”
He collapses into himself on the floor, half hidden behind the bed, putting it between him and Dean. The trembling returns with moans and cries incessantly pouring out of Sam’s mouth as he buries his head in his hands, gripping at his face and whatever hair is in reach with too much force, wailing out a constant stream of no, no, no!
Dean takes an involuntary step forward into the room, drawn in by that maternal wretchedness. Desperate, always desperate, to comfort his baby brother.
When his boot sounds on the carpet - muted but oh-so-loud to Sam’s ears - the cries lose their shape, hiccupping wails of no quickly becoming unintelligible and increasingly frantic, building and building until it can only be described as a howling scream.
It’s been three days and one hour and fifteen minutes, and Sam won’t stop screaming.
#2.5k+ words#lucifer wants to be jesus#religious imagery#aftermath of torture#mentally anyway#this doesn't rlly follow canon LOL whoops#(#spn#wincest#< implied/referenced#sam winchester#sam whump#happy sam winchester's birthday#to those who celebrate#)
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Another The French Mistake type of episode but we see how unwell Jensen is about Dean and that fucking scares Dean. And oh boy, I'm sure it would be a hilarious episode.
#just imagine#dean going into jensen's trailer#finding jensen's notes about dean's character#sam going on jensen's computer#researching about jensen ackles like in the real episode#finding videos of conventions#where jensen talks about dean#how much he loves him#how he celebrates dean's birthday#how he wishes to be like him in some ways#dean would freak out#sam would joke about it and tease dean by saying that that jensen guy has a crush on him or something#but then they'll both look disgusted at that thought because dean and jensen look alike and that would be weird#do you see what I mean? can you see the vision?#dean winchester#jensen ackles#supernatural#spn 6x15#The French Mistake#sorry jensen but I love how crazy you are about dean because I am too#my random thoughts about spn#and while we're at it#it would be even funnier to see his reaction to the last crazy things misha said#just picture him hearing someone looking like cas saying all this shit#he would blush and then black out and fall on the ground with his nose bleeding#sam would be shocked and eventually would go find some help for dean#misha collins#destiel#deancas#my random thoughts about destiel
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i thought about what i could ask you for cocktail a lot zjdjdjdj
cocktail 🍸: can i ask for ☂️ with Sam Winchester please? 👉🏻👈🏻
champagne 🥂: would you rather go to the beach or the mountains? (idk if that’s really the point of the game but 😭)
lskdfkjshkdf you're too sweet <33
join my birthday party!
cocktail 🍸: ☂️ = sharing an umbrella. it's a bit wonky, but it's cute and aaaaa !! i love this
the rain splashes on the roof and windows of the moving car. it creates a beautiful sight outside, the rain reflecting beautifully in the rays of light coming from the streetlights. the sound of the radio playing a soft rock song softly on the background had lulled you too sleep. sam drove the car into the parking of the motel, switching off the motor, he took a minute to admire your soft features on your face. how peaceful you looked with a slight smile on your face, how you looked comfy having his coat wrapped around your shoulders, nestling against the window. he smiled and felt like the happiest person on earth, how lucky he was to have you. he softly stroked your cheek and gently shook your shoulder, whispering you had to wake up. you awoke sleepy and confused, looking at him with a light grumpy face. it made sam happy. he told you to wait and stepped out the car to the trunk to take out an umbrella, rushing over to your side and opening the door. he helped you get out of the car, closed the door and held you close to his chest as he protected you from the rain with the umbrella hanging over both your heads. 'let's go sleep' he murmured against your head, pressing a kiss on the top of your crown and guided you to your room.
champagne 🥂: it is the point of the game!! u did it right, dw <33 And to answer your question, i think it's dependable on how i feel at that moment. right now, i'd love to be in the mointains surrounded by nature and having a way to ground myself, but on very exctining happy days, i'd love to go to the beach and swim !! :)
#nattie's birthday party#birthday celebration#celebration bash#birthday bash#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#supernatural
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forever mad that cas WASNT AT JACK’S BIRTHDAY THING. Yes I wish he was in that entire episode, but IT’S JACK’S BIRTHDAY FOR GOODNESS SAKE! I HATE THE WRITERS SO MUCH JESUS CHRIST
#they did cas so dirty#he would’ve loved to have seen them so happy and celebrate HIS OWN KID’S BIRTHDAY#but no#supernatural#castiel#spn#jack kline#dean winchester#sam winchester#destiel#i hate season 15 the most.
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all last holiday dean wanted was rice krispie treats for his birthday and he got made fun of and then literally died before he could even make it to his next birthday
#he was so close to his birthday too#bc ok we know 100% last holiday takes place in may bc they celebrate both sam and jack’s birthdays#and then i don’t think 15-18 could’ve spanned more than like 2 weeks bc each ep seems to take place pretty directly after the previous#and idk how much time passes in just 15x19 alone but i assume jack would’ve reset the date when bringing everyone back so doesn’t matter#then the finale took place 6 months later#all this to say they defeated chuck may/june so dean died at the end of 2020 before his birthday in january#like the finale ended up airing around the time it would’ve taken place#anyways this is all fake tho bc he’s obviously alive and well and the finale never happened#dean winchester#spn#supernatural
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Sam’s birthday is coming up, and @seasononesam and I (@suncaptor) thought it would be fun to celebrate with an entire week of appreciation! Any type of creation is welcome, from gifsets, to art, to fics, to meta. We just ask that triggers and NSFW content be tagged and no w* content is included.
Please tag all creations as #samweek2024 so we can reblog them, or @ us if you’d like/tumblr’s tags don’t work
Prompts:
All prompts are specifically related to Sam Winchester
Day One (April 26th): Fusions: your culture, field of study, science, space, favourite music/books, interest, etc, & Sam Winchester
Day Two (April 27th): Favourite Sam Arc / Pre or Post Canon / Home / Liminality
Day Three (April 28th): LGBT+ Sam / Favourite Sam Relationships / Sam & Family
Day Four (April 29th): Neurodivergent Sam / Mental Health / Sam & Healing
Day Five (April 30th): Psychic Powers / Demon Blood / Lucifer
Day Six (May 1st): Autonomy / Abuse / Trauma
Day Seven (May 2nd): Happy Birthday Sam!
Also please don’t worry about being strict with the categories! If there’s something about Sam we didn’t include (as obviously there are many things we could have added) that you want to talk about just include it in the category it fits most or post on the final day!
We also acknowledge it's later than we sent the post out last year, so do know if you only participate one of the days/the final day/post late we would still love to see it and are just excited about new Sam content!
If you want you can also post fics to this AO3 collection!
#spn#supernatural#sam winchester#samweek2024#spnedit#samwinchester edit#seasononesam#events#incoherents#sammy#birthday event#edit#again the beautiful picture is by penny seasononesam <3 I love this tradition w/ her on here and I'm sorry to post late!
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Hey could I request angsty and fluffy headcanons for Dean having a crush on reader but he thinks she has a crush on Sam but she actually has a crush on Dean back
Hey lovely!
So I kiiiind of already did this type of prompt with "Dean gives you an impossible choice" and its sequel, "Choosing Him."
But I'll do another imagine in this vein for you! ❤️
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 1,000
Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst(ish), fear of unrequited love, mutual pining
Imagine: Dean reads you wrong.
When Dean falls for someone, it's "slow and steady wins the race."
But the spark. That spark is instant.
He feels it with you.
Your pretty smile. Your "get it done" attitude that mirrors his. The way you know all of his references, whether it's movies or TV or music — you grew up learning how to tell time from what was on TV, just like him.
It's the way you laugh with him, share quiet moments of contemplation with him, and even moments of grief with him. Even when it's his grief, you always come. Whether it's to sit beside him, or share a drink with him, or make him something you know he likes, or get him to take a drive with you.
But realistically, you have more in common with Sam.
Both of you are bookish (nerds). You two get into heated discussions about Dante's Inferno and proper Latin translations. (You always accuse Sam of his pronunciations being off, while Sam argues, "At least I remember the whole exorcism. You think the damn demon cares if my vowels are off?")
You and Sam bicker. You playfully tease him, bring smiles to his face just as often as you bring them to Dean's. You're comfortable with him, playfully jabbing his arm or his chest when you mess with him.
Sam takes it with a smile, or a slight roll of his eyes, but always with fondness.
Dean can't help the churning in his stomach. Every time he thinks he has a read on you. Every time he thinks it's safe to maybe, one day, after a hunt, after an episode of Dr. Sexy, after you get out of the shower, after he's made you a home-cooked meal, after you sit with him and talk about everything and nothing while he works on his car — he thinks he might have a shot if he asked you out.
But he always falters, because he just can't fucking tell. He thinks you and Sam have something.
And Dean...he likes you. A lot.
More than he's ever willingly expressed.
But despite his reputation with women, he's never, and will never, step on his brother's toes.
Until he can't help himself.
It's your birthday. Sam got you a series of books he recommended to you last month. (Again, fucking nerds.) Dean got the booze and made the food to celebrate.
But you're surprised, and even a little teary when he brings out the cake he bought at an honest-to-God bakery. He even stood in line, waited 30 minutes to have them write your name on it, with little balloons. The frosting letters are drawn in your favorite color.
"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," Dean tells you. His tone is a little too soft. It's because he sees your unshed tears, and his heart clenches.
It's just a fucking cake.
Does it really matter that much to you?
But he still feels a well of warmth and pride in his chest. He turns to his brother with a smirk. "I win."
It's meant to be playful, but he kind of means it. Sam just eyes him knowingly.
"Sure," Sam laughs.
What the hell does that mean? Dean nearly frowns. But he's soon distracted — by you leaning in close to kiss him on the cheek.
He turns just in time (with slightly wider eyes) to see you blush.
That smile tells him something.
"Thanks, guys," you say to both of them. But your hand lingers on Dean's wrist, squeezing a bit.
At the end of the night, Sam turns in early. You stick around to help Dean clean up.
"Aw, stop. You're the birthday girl. I got this," Dean says, waving you off. You join him at the kitchen counter and lay a hand on his arm.
"Dean," you say softly. It earns his attention. You look a little nervous, your eyes falling from his, then meeting them again.
"What's the matter?" he asks. His brows furrow. He's thinking of your lips on his cheek. Unconsciously he glances down at your pretty mouth.
"Was wondering if you could help me with a birthday wish," you said.
A smile begins to tug at your lips, and Dean can't help but smile back. Intrigue, and a small tremor of something triggers up his spine.
"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asks.
You bite your lip. "Okay...I'm going to ask you this once. Yes or no. And if it's no...then we won't talk about it ever again and you'll have to wipe it out of your memory, because I don't want to make things weird or make you uncomfortable and I don't want to have to do something drastic, like leave the Bunker—"
Dean's smile falls as his brows raise in slight alarm. He also raises placating hands to stop your verbal flapping.
"Whoa, hey. What? What the hell kinda birthday question is this?"
You close your eyes and take a breath. "Okay."
Your eyes open, and as what happens far too often, Dean's captured by them.
"Close your eyes for me," you request.
"My eyes need to be closed to answer a damn question?"
"Damn it, Dean. Just do it, please!"
He lets out a slightly peeved breath, but he obliges you, shutting his lids. He really doesn't know what the hell is going on...until you lay a bracing hand on his chest and press a soft kiss to his lips.
For a moment, he freezes.
He inhales deeply through his nose as the surprise fades.
Relief floods in its wake.
A smile reaches his face.
But soon enough, before you can pull away, he grasps your upper arms to hold you in place. He dips his head down to kiss you in earnest. His lips find yours, gentle at first, and then gaining in passion.
He learns quickly the pattern of your lips, and the heady feeling of that knowing travels straight to his brain, stronger than the whiskey he drank earlier.
It's like you two were made to move together. To end up just like this.
You both are breathless by the time your eyes slide open and meet one another.
Dean's lips curve into a smirk. "How's that answer for ya?"
Your smile is beaming bright.
"Yeah, that works."
Chuckling, he pulls you in closer and tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your blush-warmed cheek.
And he answers you again.
AN: Ugh, I'm sappy as hell. 😂 Hope you liked this! Let me know what you think. 😉
Read Sam’s version: “Sam reads you wrong.”
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I and eight other Chinese artists participated in a project to celebrate Sam Winchester's birthday on Weibo, and I was responsible for the part of little Sam. Happy birthday sammy!
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Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.
This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!
Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.
Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?
Supernatural writing masterlist
“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.
“Excuse me?!”
“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”
The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.
Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.
I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.
---
📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house
A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.
📱 You ok?
I sighed. Finally, he asks.
📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later
I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.
I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.
I walked.
---
I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.
And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.
Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.
Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.
Fuck them.
---
“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.
“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.
“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.
“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.
“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”
“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.
“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.
“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”
He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.
I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.
“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.
“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”
“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”
“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”
“Didn’t you hear Dean?”
“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”
“No, he laid right into the guy.”
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”
“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”
I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.
Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.
“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.
“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”
“I don’t remember electing you.”
“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”
“I’m not moping!”
“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”
I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.
The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.
---
Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”
“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”
I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.
“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”
“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”
---
Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”
I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.
“What time is it?”
“Time to work the case.”
I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”
“No, come on, back on the horse.”
“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”
“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.
“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.
I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.
Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.
“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”
“Thanks.”
“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”
I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.
“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”
“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.
He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”
“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.
“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”
I laughed mirthlessly.
“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”
“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”
“That’s not true.”
“Well, they’re all thin at least.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”
“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.
“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”
“Let me guess, beautiful?”
“Absolutely.”
“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”
I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.
“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”
His face came even closer, watching my reactions.
“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.
“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”
He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”
My hands slackened.
He edged a tiny bit forward.
His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.
Was this even real?
How was this happening?
His hand came up to cup my cheek.
I leant forward.
The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the exploration of his tongue and mine.
A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.
“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”
.
.
.
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Camping Shenanigans
Summary: You like both brothers and you decide to go camping for Sam's birthday.
Pairing: Sam x Reader x Dean Winchester
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI , implied smut, kissing, fluff
Word count: 4.9k
Note: Not beta read. It has been sitting in my drafts for months. Enjoy!
Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)
"Camping? Are you serious?"
"Yes, Dean, it's my birthday," Sam answered.
"It was my idea," you chimed in as Dean shot you a death stare. "Kinda," You added.
***
It wasn't actually your idea. You just asked Sam a simple question:
“What’s something you always wanted to do but never had a chance to do it?”
He said camping.
"Why do you ask?"
"Your birthday is coming soon!" You told him and stuffed your face with some scrambled eggs you decided to have that morning.
"So?" Sam was a bit confused. He never really cared much about his birthday.
"Let's do something fun for your birthday. Every year is the same; Dean celebrates his birthdays hammered and dodging STDs like bullets, my birthdays are depressing because I'm always broke or sad or both, and yours…it's like you don't have birthdays."
"So,do you wanna go camping for my birthday?"
"Yes! And we can celebrate in nature with lots of alcohol."
"I mean sure, but Dean's gonna –"
"Oh fuck what Dean says he's coming too."
***
"Kinda?!"
"It will be fun Dean, besides spending time in nature will be good for you," Sam said.
"Actually, concerning amount of booze and chicks with daddy issues are the only two things that are good for me, not this!" He still kept protesting.
"You're going, Dean!" Sam told him.
"Fine, but if a snake bites me, I'm shaving your head!"
"Yeah, yeah! Pack a bag, we're going tomorrow morning!"
"TOMORROW MORNING?!" Dean’s voice went an octave higher.
"Yeah, and I'm driving!" Sam smirked.
"Not a chance," Dean simply said before taking a sip of beer.
You and Sam found a wonderful campsite in Greenheart National Park in Wyoming and decided to book it, long before telling Dean. Two nights under the stars in the middle of nowhere sounded wonderful, but Dean still wasn't impressed. Even after telling him, it wasn't a traditional campsite – it had toilets, outdoor showers and all-inclusive breakfast, lunch and dinner – he still wasn't impressed. Dean being Dean - he was protesting and whining, right until you actually sat in his car and he started the engine. He didn't like the idea, but it was Sam's birthday tomorrow and he would go to the ends of the Earth for his little brother.
The drive was long and seemed endless. Between trying to get comfortable, taking a nap, listening to music and eating snacks because of boredom, you couldn’t wait to spend time in nature and watch the stars. Sam was visibly excited, asking Dean every two hours where you were, explaining how to set up a tent, telling fun statistics about bear attacks which made Dean a bit uneasy. Sam’s inner child was slowly healing and yours was just happy to tag along. Dean's on the other hand…his inner child just wanted to get back to bed.
“This is going to be fun!” You laughed. “Dean, get ready to fight bears!”
“Shut your mouth!”
*****
After approximately 13 hours you finally arrived, far away from civilization. Everything was green, the sky was blue and the air was fresh. It was almost 9pm and even though it was May, it was a bit chilly.
"You will all get your tents, feel free to set up anywhere you like, but please don't go far away from the station," The bold man was speaking, aka the owner. He was a middle-aged man, very athletic and taller than Sam. Nice obnoxious smile too. "Dinner is in an hour and if anyone has to shower, showers and toilets are behind the gazebo. We will start the bonfire at 11pm if you wanna join. I'm making some good ol' homemade chips. Hope you enjoy your stay and please if you have any questions, concerns, I'm here."
"He seems nice," You whispered.
"Yeah, and bold," Dean added, clearly trying to sound funny. He tried and failed.
“He might be bold, but next to him you’re just a scrawny little bitch,” you clapped back, hoping it would sting him.
“Ouch!” It did.
Sam laughed.
*****
“So, do you want to share a tent?” You asked the brothers as they shared a look of concern.
“Well…” Sam started, but was unable to finish his thought.
“Mmm..” Dean too.
They didn’t like the idea, so naturally you decided to go with it and ask the owner to give you the biggest tent he could find.
“For the three of you?” The guy asked, pointing a finger at Blossom, Bubbles and Buttercup. You were the last one to get your tent. Some people already found their spot and set up theirs.
“Yes, the biggest one please. I don’t wanna be suffocated by these two.”
The guy chuckled. “Roger that!” He then went into the storage room and started rummaging through his things. After a minute he came back holding a large black bag. “Here you go!” He said and tossed it to Sam. “That will do!” He also gave you three sleeping bags and you were off.
“Thank you so much!” You said.
****
You found your spot far away from people next to a pine tree that was sticking out from the rest of the forest that was behind you. The hill was beautiful, grass perfectly cut, the sky covered in stars like freckles scattered all over, while the air felt colder than an hour ago.
“I have no idea what I’m doing!” Dean said, trying to see which part of the tent goes where, while you used the flashlight on your phone to guide him.
“Let me!” Sam said and gathered all the poles in one pile. He read a thing or two about different types of tents and recognized you got the one with a porch aka ‘the fancy one’.
“Well happy birthday Sammy!” You told him. “Congratulations on being one year closer to death!”
“Wow (Y/N), you sure know how to make a man feel like crap!” Dean scoffed.
“What’re you talking about Dean? I praise him all the time. Both of you!”
“Yeah, praise my ass!”
“You do have a great ass!” You winked at him. Dean just rolled his eyes and crossed his arms looking offended.
Sam laughed at your joke. “Thank you, but it’s not midnight yet!”
***
An hour later, Sam finally set up the tent and Dean was already on his second beer. This campsite was known for having unlimited amounts of booze and Dean was one happy camper when he found that out. Meanwhile Sam was really proud of himself for setting up his first tent. It was spacious and brand new. When you put the sleeping bags in, you realized you were going to get squished by the brothers. The tent was big, but not big enough.
You liked that idea, considering your long history of liking both of them and not being able to decide. It had been over ten years and you still couldn’t decide. They both had qualities you desired in a man and were special in their own way. Sam’s height and intelligence made you want to climb him like a tree and never get down, while Dean’s perfect smile and snarky humor made you want to make him whimper under you. They were childhood friends and lived across the street, and since your parents liked to hang out you would see them almost every weekend.
Once they moved across the country you still stayed in touch - texted and called every once in a while, but your heart was aching for them. You missed them dearly. It all fell into place once you saw Sam one random Monday morning on campus at Stanford and your shenanigans started again. Dean decided more education was too much for his brain, so he opened a small music store in San Diego and was doing surprisingly well. You started hanging out again, going to pubs, having movie nights, game nights…
You and Sam would also visit Dean and everything seemed to make sense once again. You were like three peas in a pod – same but slightly different.
Over the years you learned how to ignore your feelings and push those thoughts away, and yet sometimes you'd catch your stomach flipping every time they would bring up past relationships or flings. They both didn't want to settle down, and while you liked the idea of it, you were picky and hadn’t found someone who was worthy of you to settle down with.
"Shower and alcohol?" You asked Sam, since Dean had already showered and was now on his third beer.
"Yes please."
Showering in nature was a first for you. You thought you were going to freeze but surprisingly even though you did, it felt amazing on your skin. You enjoyed the wind making you shiver.
“How was it, Sam?” You said, stepping out of the shower in nothing but a towel. Sam actually took the time and got dressed in the wooden shower cabin.
“Cold.” He answered, his voice shivering. His wet hair was slick back, a blue shirt accentuating his muscles, while the gray sweatpants he wore particularly outlined his cock, making it hard to focus.
The things I’d do to that man are ungodly and borderline illegal.
SNAP OUT OF IT!
“And refreshing,” You added.
“You should get dressed before you get sick.”
“Okay, mother!” You rolled your eyes and went back to the tent.
Anything for you, handsome!
***
Dinner was delicious – Dutch oven mac and cheese. Everybody got one big full plate and it was better than you could imagine; very salty and cheesy.
It was nice to sit and look at the bonfire while eating your favorite childhood meal but soon you just wanted to get away from the people and loud noise. You stuck around for a few minutes, watching the fire and chatting with a few nice girls you met while waiting for dinner before your social battery completely died. You excused yourself and left. You weren’t in the mood for small talk anymore – Sam and Dean were a lot better at it than you and they were a lot more social too. You decided to watch from afar and sit on the porch swing that was looking directly at the bonfire surrounded by people having a great time. You were sipping your beer watching the fire go wild as the bold guy threw a few branches, making it stable enough to actually start making his homemade chips in the skillet. You felt like a kid again. The beer was just enough to relax you even though the taste wasn't the best. The stars decided to shine that night, while the crescent moon was too shy to show its whole face.
“Having fun over there?” You heard a familiar voice and saw a shadow of a person approaching you. It was Dean.
“Yeah, just don’t feel like talking to people,” you told him.
He sat down next to you and put his beer bottle next to yours. You exchanged looks in semi- complete darkness and made a toast.
“Cheers!”
“Happy birthday to Sam!” You said, looking at Sam who was talking to a guy much shorter than him.
“I swear it was yesterday he was learning how to walk,” Dean told you.
“You sound like my mother,” You chuckled.
Your mind was getting tired and since the swing was made out of wood, you were struggling to get comfortable. Your head decided to rest on his shoulder as you took a sip of your beer, eyes still on Sam. Your hands wrapped around his arm as you lifted your legs on the swing. His arm was firm and he smelled too good for your own good – something between leather and pines surrounding you. He seemed to be tense though, or at least that was what you thought.
“Dean, I don’t bite, unless you want me to! Relax!”
You couldn’t see but he just rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I’m relaxed!”
“Well damn, you have been working out then!” You decided to compliment him. As much as you loved roasting him, making him feel good was also important to you.
“Not so bad for a scrawny little bitch, huh?”
“Shut up!”
***
The night was growing cold and you were getting tired. You didn't know the time, since your phone was back in the tent, but one thing you knew – it was time to go to sleep. The Winchesters were having a great time lingering in the crowd so you decided to leave them to have their fun and go to sleep.
"Guys, I'm gonna go hit the sack!" You shouted from afar, since you saw, they were talking to someone – a man you didn't know and didn't want to know.
"Are you sure, (Y/N)?" Sam asked.
"Yeah I'm tired! Good night, guys!"
"Good night!" They said in sync.
You snuggled up in your sleeping bag, shivering from the cold and realized; since you were sleeping on the ground you won't be able to get one hundred percent comfortable so the only logical thing was to take melatonin for sleep. That magic pill could make any surface feel like clouds and on top of that made you actually have nice dreams, since you didn't dream as much.
You took one pill and chugged a good amount of water. You were out in about 45 minutes.
***
Sam's lips were on your neck, kissing, biting, making you shiver; while Dean's lips went lower and lower. You didn't know which name to moan first, hell, you didn't know where you were, but it was blissful and a whole lot of sinful.
Dean's lips reached your panties and before he moved them to the side, he placed a kiss making you squirm. Sam's large hands were playing with your breasts while he couldn't separate his lips from your neck.
As soon as Dean's tongue touched your throbbing clit, you arched your back in pleasure. He was slow, and with the combination of Sam's rough kisses, your body was overwhelmed and feeling nothing but intense pleasure.
"Dean!" You whispered. “Dean!”
"(Y/N)?" Dean mumbled, his eyes half open, even though he couldn't see shit.
"Sam! Fuck!" This time, a whisper, sounding more like a light moan of his brother's name.
"You kiddin'?" He was now fully awake and fully aware you were in fact not trying to wake him up.
"So good!"
"I'll be damned!" He whispered, not really sure what to do. Sam wasn't saying a word so he figured he was in a coma since he had too many beers a few hours ago. You were squished between them but somehow ended up being closer to Dean so he decided to snap you back to reality.
"(Y/N)!" He whispered, this time a little bit louder. "Wake the hell up!" He said, trying to shake you to wake you up.
"Huh, what?" You finally mumbled as he violently pulled you back to reality. It took you a couple of seconds to realize it was, all in fact, just a dream.
"You snore like a buzzsaw!" He lied.
"Oh sorry!"
And without saying anything else, you both went to sleep. It took Dean a couple of minutes though, since he couldn't stop thinking about what he heard.
Dirty girl.
Was the last thing he thought before passing out.
****
The next morning you woke up well rested but in pain. Your body felt stiff until you stretched and actually got out of the tent. It was cold during the night, the air was fresh, but with the first rays of the sun came the heat, and you weren’t awoken by the sound of your alarm, it was the heat and stuffy air. When you looked at your phone, it was almost eight in the morning and time for breakfast. You were alone in the tent, Sam and Dean were already up. You got your toothbrush and toothpaste and went to do your business. You couldn't stop thinking about the damn dream. It was too vivid for your own good. The way Dean kissed you with his perfect full lips, Sam’s hands on your hot skin, their moans, groans and big girthy co-
“Good morning, princess,” you heard Dean say as you waited in line to get your breakfast sandwich, still sleepy. He wasn’t a morning person whatsoever so hearing him sound this jolly was strange.
“Morning,” you didn’t even bother to look at him as you turned around and went to find a place to sit. People were already chatting, having their morning coffees and enjoying the fresh air, while you struggled to exist. It was too early to think, too early to speak and too early to be a human.
Dean followed you after he poured himself another cup of freshly made black coffee.
You lazily opened your sandwich from the wrapper and took a first bite; ham, cheese, ketchup, lettuce…usual stuff. It was a little dry for your taste buds, but it wasn’t bad.
“How did you sleep?” Dean asked, sitting next to you.
“Like a baby,” You mumbled, chewing. You could feel his eyes on you, as you turned to look at him, he was indeed staring back at you with a little smirk on his face. “What?”
“Oh I bet you slept real good,” he teased. His deep and raspy voice was too close to your left ear, sending shivers down your spine, all over your body. You ignored it.
“What are you implying, Winchester?” You asked, genuinely confused, not really thinking about…oh. OH! You remembered. The dream. Maybe he heard you mumbling in your sleep. Do I sleep talk? You still played dumb.
“Dream a little dream of me and Sammy, eh?” His smirk was still there, you knew he wasn’t going to let it go.
“I have no idea what you are talking about.” You replied. “Where’s Sam?”
“He went Dora the explorer around the park.”
Sam was both night and day. He enjoyed both darkness and light. The darkness was for reading and the light was for hiking and jogging.
After you finished breakfast, you poured yourself a cup of coffee that was now lukewarm. It still tasted like coffee when it touched your lips and still gave you that kick you needed.
Dean was still keeping you company for some reason, he was close, too close and kind of getting on your nerves. You had a feeling he wanted to ask you something but swallowed all the words in the English language. You assumed what he was curious about, you just didn’t want to embarrass yourself. We are our egos after all, and in time we learn how to tame that part of ourselves and not let it control us. You weren’t going to blush and get flustered in front of Dean Winchester.
“What’s the plan for today?” You asked.
“Did you dream about sleeping with me and Sam?” Dean evidently didn’t register your question. And he finally found the words. You choked on your coffee not expecting to be hit with a question. You didn’t expect that kind of question.
“You did!” He said as his face lit up in a second.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
He was a child. A man-child. He wasn’t going to let it go, not until you confessed. Sighing in frustration, you calmly put down your coffee-stained mug and looked him in the eyes. They were beautiful, greener than the forest around you.
“I did,” you confessed.
“Yeah, I know I heard you,” he smiled, showing off his perfect teeth. He was beautiful but you still wanted to punch him in the face.
“Can I drink my coffee in peace now, please?”
“Yes, you may, sinner.”
The embarrassment you felt disappeared as soon as you saw Sam coming back from his little, to quote Dean, ‘Dora the Explorer’ adventure, all sweaty and ready for a shower. You weren’t embarrassed, you were horny.
“Morning!”
“Morning Sam!” You spoke.
“Sleep well?”
“Oh yeah, you bet she did!” Dean told him. You rolled your eyes.
Sam gave him a confused look not getting the joke. He doesn’t know.
“Awful, your brother kept making happy noises all night,” you lied. Figured you would get back at him for being a dick. Dean’s mouth slightly opened.
“Dude, gross!” Sam’s reaction was more than welcome considering Dean hadn’t stopped annoying you ever since you had a bite of that dry sandwich. Once he left to shower, you turned to his older brother.
“Don’t fuck with me!”
***
The day was cloudy and cold. Some people were playing board games and listening to music, some were reading their favorite books, while others went to explore the national park. You immersed yourself in the book you were currently reading, while Sam and Dean played Monopoly under the kitchen gazebo that wasn’t just a kitchen, it had a space for everything; space where you could sit and relax, a table, and two couches placed right across each other. A multipurpose gazebo: kitchen, dining room and a living room. Well, Sam was teaching Dean how to play and Dean was losing and cursing every few minutes.
“You were never good with money, Dean!” You chuckled, eyes still on the page you were reading.
“And you’re loud!” He sassed. You lifted your head to look at him and he just gave you a wink. You knew damn well why.
You elected to ignore it.
Soon enough, it was lunch time: delicious goulash and for dessert, a slice of apple pie.
“Warrior food!” Dean said, stuffing his mouth.
He wasn’t wrong. The food was fresh and absolutely delicious.
“Do you guys want to play volleyball after we eat?” Sam asked.
“You’re joking?” Dean lifted his eyebrow. “I don’t do sports and I especially don’t do sports after lunch.”
“Grandpa!” You said and told Sam to count you in.
A few minutes later, the bald, good-looking dude came to say there was going to be another party, from 7pm to when everybody goes to sleep. He also said there was going to be lots and lots of alcohol considering it was a goodbye party. Dean was excited, you were too busy reading your book and Sam finally bankrupted his older brother.
You ended up playing volleyball with Sam for almost two hours. He asked the bald guy if they had any volleyballs after lunch and the guy was more than happy to be of service. There was a small chunk of land which they turned into a volleyball court, far away from people who were hanging out around the gazebo and far away from Dean who decided to take a nap after eating too many slices of pie.
“Are you enjoying your birthday so far, Sammy?” You asked as you served him the ball which, he slammed a little too hard and it flew across your head.
“Oops!” He said with an awkward smile. “Best one so far!”
“Told you!” You raised your voice going a few steps away from the court to get the ball.
As you were playing and growing tired, you couldn't help but notice how tight his black t-shirt was, perfectly hugging his body as he started to sweat. His hair still a little damp, slick back and tucked behind his ears, his lower lip between his teeth trying to concentrate on the ball in the sky – the man was simply gorgeous. It was hard to concentrate on the damn game when your mind wandered.
How does his lips taste?
Does he have a big dick?
Probably. The man is huge.
FOCUS!
So many questions and no wins.
After losing 3:0, you decided to take a shower and get ready for the party. You were in the mood to drink and not get nervous around both brothers.
It was getting cold, so after a quick cold shower, you decided to wear your favorite pair of gray sweats and a very old Led Zeppelin hoodie your dad gave you a long time ago.
People already started drinking by the time you finished getting ready.
"Hey, nice hoodie you got there!" Dean commented as soon as he saw you. One of the things you absolutely adored about Dean was his awesome music taste. You were both old schools.
"You've seen me in this at least a hundred times Dean!" You chuckled.
"And every time I'm going to tell you how awesome it is," he said proudly. "Where's Sam?"
"Showering."
"Again?"
"Yeah, you know Dean, after physical activity you get all sweaty and gross," you told him and took a paper cup filled with red wine from the table under the gazebo. Suddenly, the familiar melody of Toxic by Britney Spears blasted through the speakers.
"It was sweaty and gross alright," Dean joked and like always, you rolled your eyes, and took a sip of the wine. It wasn't too sweet and definitely was cheap considering how watered down it was.
***
After three cups, you grabbed your fourth one as your vision started to blur. Your thoughts were scrambled, between being nervous because of Dean's annoying teasing, and not giving a flying fuck about anything and just wanting to let loose, but there was a sense of tranquility in them. You loved the idea of him knowing your dirty thoughts, and you loved even more watching Sam being simultaneously confused and stunning while listening to you two bicker. The alcohol wasn't helping you. The undying need to be in a delicious Winchester sandwich only grew stronger with each sip…
You saw Sam coming from the toilet after the shower and something in you snapped. You swallowed nervously before chugging the rest of the wine and decided to toss all the fucks you had out the window.
“Hey, handsome!” You said, seeing his face change from content to a little nervous. You'd never called him that.
“Hey!” Was all he could muster.
“In the mood for a drink?”
“Sure,” he said. “But only one, and I'm out. I’m tired.”
“Okie dokie.”
Sam's drink of choice was beer. Dean was somewhere in the crowd, nowhere in your sight. Perfect.
“Cheers!” He said. No matter how big or small his smile was, his dimples would always show on his cheeks and you found it adorable. He was adorable and his lips were much more kissable after almost four cups of wine.
“Cheers,” you smiled back. “To you Sammy!”
“I didn't tell you but you're a solid volleyball player.”
You raised an eyebrow. “A solid player? Really? You won 3:0.”
“Well, yeah because you're short, and for some reason your focus was nonexistent but your serve was excellent.”
“I'm short?” You weren't offended by any means, he was in fact much taller than you, but still surprised he said it so bluntly.
“Short and sweet?” He corrected himself with an awkward smile before taking another sip of his beer.
“Sweeter than sugar, sugar,” you didn't know where that came from. It sounded kind of lame, you thought, so you quickly changed the subject. “And my focus was nonexistent because of your sorry ass.” You said before playfully tapping him on his shoulder.
“Me?”
Something about the innocence of that man made you absolutely feral. You had a feeling he wasn't so innocent behind closed doors. The idea of his lips on yours didn't want to leave your mind as your eyes couldn't stop staring at him with pure, drunken adoration.
“(Y/N)?”
You wanted to speak but something told you to not use a single word of the English language. Instead, you pulled him by his black hoodie and crashed your lips on his. Surprisingly, he didn't pull away, his body was stiff for a few seconds before letting go and deepening the kiss, making you balance yourself on your tiptoes. You felt him cup your left cheek with his free hand as you bit his lower lip, earning a moan from him. His nose crashed against yours, tasting alcohol mainly from your lips, Sam felt his cock getting hard. It hit him that he was wearing gray sweatpants so naturally that was a sign to pull away. People around you were too busy singing ABBA songs to give a fuck.
“Well…” Sam said, not knowing where his thoughts were as he instinctively looked down and saw the outline of his cock. “Crap.”
Your gaze followed and you were happy it did. He was big, bigger than you'd imagined.
"Sammy, is that a gun or you're just happy to see me?” You winked. That was horrible.
“Shut up,” he sassed back, giving you a bitch face he would always give to Dean.
He covered his groin with his hands, looking around awkwardly to see if anyone was looking. Of course they weren't. Everybody was either drunk or high or both.
Suddenly Sam's gaze was fixed behind you as he visibly clenched his jaw. You turned around and of course it was Dean.
“Oh there you are!” You said with enthusiasm and kissed him, pulling him closer by his jacket.
Sam was stunned, while you could feel Dean smiling before kissing you back and letting you put your tongue in his mouth. You wrapped your arms around his neck and enjoyed the softness of his puffy lips on yours. He was a lot gentler than Sam – more innocence but still the same amount of passion.
When you finally broke away, your drunk self just mumbled, “You two are irresistible.”
Sam was still visibly confused while Dean couldn't stop smiling.
#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#spn#dean winchester#supernatural fic#spn drabble#spn fanfic#spn fluff#supernatural fluff#spn fic#dean winchester smut#dean winchester au#dean winchester spn#dean winchester headcanon#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester headcanon#sam winchester drabble#sam winchester oneshot#sam winchester smut#sam winchester fic#sam winchester fanfiction#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x reader drabble#sam winchester x y/n#sam x reader x dean#sam x you x dean#sam and dean
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Jolly Holidays
Dean and Sam Winchester x little sister!reader
Requested by anonymous
Synopsis: Reader likes to celebrate every holiday, no matter how small
“Where’d you get that?” Sam asked, trying desperately to put on a stern face, but unable to hide his smile when you placed the birthday cake on the table.
“The store,” you said innocently.
“And how did you pay for it?” Sam asked, but just then he noticed the lettering on the cake. “Happy Birthday…Samantha?”
You winced. “Ok, so maybe it wasn’t exactly meant for me, but it was just so close to your name that I couldn’t pass up the opportunity.”
“And Samantha?” Sam asked.
You shrugged, “Should’ve picked up her cake on time.”
Sam rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He leaned over and hugged you.
“Thank you,” he said quietly.
You grinned.
“Happy Birthday, Sammy.”
…
“We need this.”
Dean just stared at you, not moving to put the item in his basket.
“Why?”
“Because it’s Thanksgiving,” you scoffed, reaching around Dean’s arm and dropping the small plastic container in his basket. “So we need turkey.”
“That’s Deli meat, it barely qualifies.”
“It’s not like we’re ever gonna get one of those,” you gestured to a display of large frozen turkeys. “So this’ll have to do.”
“What are we arguing about over here?” Sam stuck his head in between two aisles to join the conversation.
“Thanksgiving dinner,” you told him. He stared at the items in Dean’s basket.
“Deli meat, licorice, and a six pack of beer?”
“Hey, if we’re doing Thanksgiving, then I’m getting pie,” Dean declared, wandering off to another aisle.
“You’re never gonna get Thanksgiving to be a big thing, no matter how many years you try,” Sam told you after Dean was gone.
“It doesn’t have to be a big thing,” you assured him. “This is enough.”
…
“Y/N, please go to bed.”
You ignored Sam’s request, opting to remain sitting at the motel window, staring out into the night.
“I don’t even know if he’s gonna be home tonight, it might be tomorrow.”
“Just let her be,” Dean insisted from his bed. “If she wants to wait a little longer it’s fine.”
You stayed silent throughout your brother’s conversation, too intent on your own thoughts. You didn’t often wait up for John, mostly because you knew he was usually late. But today, today was different. Today you really wanted him to be on time.
“Sweetheart, please-“
“He’s here!” Your outburst when you saw John’s car pull into the motel startled both brothers.
The moment that John stepped into the motel room, he was forced back when you threw yourself into his arms.
“Whoa, hey,” he greeted, confused and more than a little exhausted. “Why are you still awake?”
“She insisted on waiting for you,” Sam explained while you stepped away from your dad and ran over to the fridge.
“Why? Kid, you should be in b-“ John cut himself off when you emerged from the small fridge with a sloppily decorated chocolate cake in your hands and a huge grin on your face.
“What’s this?” He asked softly.
“Happy birthday,” you sing-songed, placing the cake in the middle of the tiny motel table.
“You made this?” John’s voice was still uncharacteristically quiet.
“Yeah,” your grin faltered a little. “Well, mostly, I mean it’s from a box mix, but I figured since this motel has an actual oven that…” you stopped, suddenly self conscious. “Is this ok? I mean I know you don’t really do birthdays but I tho-“
You were cut off when John wrapped you in his arms, and you relaxed in his tight embrace.
He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to.
“Happy birthday, dad.”
…
“Ouch! What was that for?” Sam grumbled when you leaned over and pinched his arm.
“Wasn’t me,” you said innocently. “It was a leprechaun. They do that when you don’t wear green on this sacred day.”
“Sacred day? It’s just Saint Patrick’s Day, no one celebrates that,” Dean insisted. “And if you even think about pinching me, I’m gonna punch you in the face.”
You huffed, leaning back in your seat.
“You guys are no fun.”
Dean laughed, leaning back in his seat and reaching back to ruffle your hair.
“Better luck next year, leprechaun.”
…
“I’m telling you, something’s wrong.”
“I don’t know, Dean. She seems fine.”
“She didn’t even get one of those little plastic candle things for Hanukkah.”
“Maybe because we’re not Jewish,” Sam scoffed.
“That’s never stopped her before.”
“So she’s growing out of the holiday thing, what do you want me to do about it?” Sam asked.
“I don’t know, you’re usually the one who wants to talk about feelings,” Dean grumbled. “I figured you’d have an idea.”
“Well, I’m not even convinced that something’s wrong,” Sam argued, but at the look on Dean’s face he began to relent. “Do you really think something’s wrong?”
“Yeah. I think it’s this search for dad, man. It’s wearing on her. I wanna do something about it, she’s been acting weird for a couple of weeks now.”
“I mean, she’s been quiet, but-“
“Look, Sam, I don’t think you get it. You were gone for a while-“ Dean held up his hands innocently when Sam opened his mouth to protest. “And I’m not about to argue about that again. I’m just saying, maybe you don’t see it because you haven’t spent as much time with her. I just need you to trust me on this, we gotta do something.”
“Ok,” Sam sighed. “Ok, I have an idea.”
…
“They didn’t have coke so I grabbed…” your voice trailed off as you entered the hotel room. “What’s this?”
“Christmas,” Dean grinned at you from under a Santa hat.
“You guys…decorated for Christmas?” You looked around in awe. “Like…the two of you? No threats, no gun to your head?”
“Well, you didn’t seem in the mood so we did it for you,” Sam explained. “What do you think?”
You were silent for several moments while you took it all in; a little plastic tree on the table, a couple of red and green balloons, Sam and Dean wearing matching Santa hats, and even a couple of newspaper-wrapped presents under the tiny tree.
“I think I wanna Santa hat,” your voice came out quietly, almost reverently, like if you spoke too loud you would wake up.
“They only had two,” Dean said, reaching into his bag, “but we did get you this!” He pulled out a headband with pointy plastic ears, and a cardboard green elf hat sticking out of the top. You giggled and snatched it from his hand, placing it on your head.
“Even better.”
The three of you spent that night opening gifts and drinking hot chocolate, before ending the night with you falling asleep to Elf.
Dean carried you to bed when the movie was over, setting you on one side while he climbed in on the other, pulling the blankets over the both of you. Sam came over to the bed you and Dean were sharing to give you a good night kiss on the forehead, before he went over to his own bed and quickly fell asleep.
“Dean?” You whispered sleepily.
“Yeah baby?”
“Merry Christmas.”
Dean grinned, leaning over to press a kiss to your head, and when he laid back down you scooted closer to him, and he wrapped you in his arms.
“Merry Christmas, little sister.”
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean and sam#dean winchester x you#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#supernatural dean#the winchesters#winchesters x reader#winchesters x sister#the winchester brothers#winchester x reader#spn sam winchester#winchester#john winchester#sam and dean#dean x you#dean x sister#sam winchester x y/n#sam winchester x you#sam x sister!reader#supernatural sam#dean winchester x sister#dean winchester x sister!reader
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Birthday Pie
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
SPOILERS! set between seasons 7 and 8 of supernatural, there are spoilers for both these seasons
summary: you celebrate his birthday even when he’s gone
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 0.9k
warnings: sad, not at all a happy birthday for our beloved lil guy, language
author’s note: i’m sorry, okay? i’ve had this idea in my head for months and decided that today is a good day to release it? anyway, happy 45th birthday dean winchester! love you and very glad you’re alive and well and the series finale never happened! :)
January 24th, 2013 — Dean’s 34th Birthday.
You were barely able to drag yourself out of bed and into the living room where you were now seated and watching TV. It didn’t matter what was on, you weren’t paying attention anyway. Your mind was completely focused on Dean. Your beloved Dean; who shouldn’t be wherever the fuck he was but instead safe in your arms.
He shouldn’t be spending his birthday terrified, missing you and his brother. He should be spending it with you, Sam, and Cas.
Sure, he wasn’t really the birthday party type of guy but each year since you met him you’d gotten him a pie and put candles in it for him to blow out. It’d started as a half-assed attempt to put a smile on his face when you learned it was his birthday and you couldn’t find a cake at the store.
He’d loved it.
“How’d you know I’d rather have pie?” he had asked, his face lighting up even more when you put two candles—a two and a four—in the center.
“I…had a feeling.” You had shrugged it off as not a big deal but deep down you both knew how much it meant to him.
And each year since then—come rain, shine, monsters, or the apocalypse—you made it your job to get Dean Winchester a pie on his birthday.
A few tears rolled down your cheeks, joining the half-dried ones there already. You hadn’t been sad on Dean’s birthday since his year before hell. But it was different then, you had him next to you and you were savoring every second. You might have been terrified of what would soon happen, but you were still with him.
**
“If you’re not already aware, Dean,” Castiel started, “you turn thirty-four today.”
“What?” Dean asked, confused. “Cas we—”
“Granted time seems to be passing differently here, but on earth it is currently your birthday.”
“Happy birthday, brother,” Benny joked.
“Yeah real fuckin’ happy,” Dean scoffed. “We’re stuck killing our way through this fuckin’ nightmare while the love of my life is spending my birthday alone.”
“I’m sure she’s okay, Dean,” Cas assured him. “She has Sam, he’ll look after her until we get back.”
“No, you don’t get it. Birthdays were…they were our thing, if that makes any goddamn sense.”
**
“Happy birthday, Dean,” you smiled, placing the pie in front of him.
“Twenty-six! God, that sounds old,” Dean laughed a little.
“You’re kidding right?” you asked after singing for him as he blew out the candles.
“What?”
“Twenty six may sound old to you, but trust me you are still fuckin’ adorable.”
“I am, aren’t I?” He grinned.
“You wanna do the honors, cutie?” you asked, handing him the kitchen knife.
“Gladly, sweetheart,” he said, taking it from you. You watched him cut a slice for you then an even bigger slice for himself.
“Dean,” you started as you watched him begin eating the pie. “I love you.”
He stopped eating and looked at you; “What?”
“I know there’s a lot about your life you haven’t told me, you’re lore you could call it, but I need you to know that I really do love you, Dean Winchester.”
“But how? I mean, I’m not exactly an open book and there’s no way…” he trailed off.
“No way, what?”
“There’s no way in hell you’d feel this way if you learned everything about me.”
Your heart broke at his words, and your expression definitely showed it.
“The amount of pure love I have for you is beyond measurable, Dean. And I might be crazy for saying this, and feeling this, but there is truly nothing you could say or do that would make me stop.”
“Really?” he asked quietly, as if he was scared to press his luck.
You nodded with a soft smile; “Really.”
“Well, look I’m not really one for…that…but I do…I do feel that way about you too. I guess what I’m saying is, uh, right back at cha?”
“See to any normal person that would sound like the ramblings of a crazy man,” you said, his smile only growing. “But to me? Absolute poetry.” You leaned over and kissed him. “Happy birthday, Dean.”
He simply kissed you back, smiling against your lips.
**
“Happy birthday, Dean,” you whispered, blowing out the candles on the small pie you’d bought. It was a one-person pie because you knew if you bought a regular one that at least three-quarters would not have been eaten.
You took out the candles and picked up your fork. Staring down at the desert, you let more tears fall.
“It shouldn’t be this hard to eat a fuckin’ pie,” you laughed humorously. Your phone rang next to you and you answered it; “Hey, Sam.”
“Hey,” he sighed. “I just wanted to call and check up on you. It being Dean’s birthday and all, I figured you might…you know…”
“Be huddled up in bed sobbing my eyes out?” you said.
“Yeah…”
“I’m holding it together Sammy, don’t worry about me,” you assured him.
“I always worry about you, you know that.”
There was a short pause in the conversation as you took a deep breath and let a few more tears fall; “I miss him, Sammy,” you admitted. “I just really miss him.”
#dean winchester x reader#by mind empty just fictional people#by jean#supernatural#spn#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester#dean winchester fic#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fanfiction#dean x reader#dean winchester birthday#happy birthday dean winchester
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— SCREAM (YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IT’S HALLOWEEN)
SUMMARY : it’s Halloween and it’s also your birthday, and Dean’s made a lot of promises about how it was gonna be the best night ever.
PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader
CHARACTERS : none
WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, fluff, tiny bit of choking, nipple orgasm
WORD COUNT : 3.4k
A/N : happy Halloween (if you celebrate) !!! title from avenged sevenfold and muse song. my sister convinced me to write this LOL. this is pretty much a Drabble, lol, leaving it open ended basically, you’ll see why… (also, when I write I pretty much assume everyone’s watch Supernatural at least once.. I never put any spoiler disclaimers bc I forget… lol but, yeah. pretty much everything I write will mention something from any and all seasons) XX
The Bunker was chilly this Halloween night, and for the first time in years, Y/n and the Winchesters weren’t tangled up in a hunt. The monsters, for once, didn’t take advantage of the holiday to get away with their usual tricks and modes of preying.
To be fair, their numbers had dwindled significantly since Jack became ‘God’ or whatever the hell happened. Hunting wasn’t nearly as hard as it was before, as if even monsters had free-will bestowed upon them. As if they’d chosen a better life rather than one in which they are hunted and killed.
Good for them. Everyone wins.
The only prey tonight is Y/n, but as far as she’s concerned the running is only part of the fun, and getting caught wasn’t something she’d hate.
As she breathed erratically and ran as fast as her platform heels could carry her across the concrete floor of the Bunker, her heart raced as if she were on any other hunt. But what made this hunt different was the spark of excitement that tingled up her spine and the flush of her bare skin.
She stopped at the kitchen and caught her breath momentarily, looking around the place as everything flashed red. To add to the thrill, mostly. She walked on shaky legs to the refrigerator and took out some water to drink it quickly. As she swallowed down a fair amount, she could feel the cold water travel down to her stomach and she sighed as her thirst and the dryness in her throat disappeared.
After about twenty minutes of hiding and running away, she was on high alert, her senses were heightened, and she could easily hear his footsteps—even over the alarm Dean had set off in the Bunker to scare her even more.
She quickly made her way out of the kitchen after setting the half-empty water bottle on the metal counter, checked both ways and began making her way into the dungeon, wondering if maybe Dean was there. If he could just catch her already, the dampness of her lace panties wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. Especially since she could easily feel it with the cool air inside the concrete walls of her temporary home.
Much to her disappointment, Dean wasn’t anywhere to be found in the dungeon or anywhere around there. Even if he’s the one that’s supposed to be looking for her, she just wanted to know what would happen once she was caught by him.
Besides, her feet were starting to ache, her legs were practically turning to jelly at this point, and her sweat was starting to feel uncomfortable. It didn’t sound very sexy to her, but she knew Dean would still jump her bones despite that. It was a nice feeling, to be loved… by him specifically.
She had to wonder if he was even trying.
Just forty minutes ago, he had texted her to take her clothes off and to wear the lingerie set he’d placed in Sam’s room for safekeeping. It had been in Cas’ room before that, but once Sam left to be with Eileen, Dean placed the white box on Sam’s bed. A huge, royal blue bow glittered in the middle of the boring room, perfectly positioned on the box with her name and a sexy note from Dean promising to make it the best birthday ever.
She’d waited in Dean’s room excitedly in the light blue lingerie and when he’d made his way to her, she couldn’t believe what he had in mind, what his plan was. He had some heels in his hands and she gaped up at the Ghostface mask that covered her boyfriend’s handsome face. He was covered from head to toe in a thick black robe, laughed at the look on her face, and got down to put her heels on her.
“How’s that, sweetheart?” He asked, his deep and hot voice muffled behind the mask.
“Uh,” she tried, then just decided to stand up and moved her legs around a bit to test the comfort. She nodded and he tugged her towards him, the smooth and cool material of his robe brushing against her soft and warm skin. She could feel every inch of him, and wondered momentarily if he was completely naked underneath, but instead of asking him flirtatiously, she just gasped.
She stumbled backwards for a few steps when he began to walk forward with her still in his arms. She chewed on her bottom lip when he had her pressed against the wall. She could see his green eyes through the thick black cloth that covered his eyes, the way they were looking down at her with so much amusement. If she had to go by those crinkles by his eyes, she had to guess he had the hottest, smuggest look on his face.
And he’d be right to.
He lifted her leg up slowly, held her knee by his hip, and squeezed her closer to him by her waist. Her heart raced at the sight of him and she felt wetness grow between her legs when he slotted his hips between hers.
All the while, she just clung to his arms, staring up at him in surprise and completely aroused by his calculated movements. Even her breaths had gotten irregular and he hadn’t said or done much of anything, but that was the effect of Dean Winchester.
“Run,” he murmured deeply, releasing her before stepping away.
She blinked up at him, “uh, what?”
He looked away, laughed softly, and grabbed her wrist. She chewed on her lip and let him spin her around gracefully. With a nice slap on her ass, he repeated the word ‘run’ much more sternly than before. She looked at the hallway in front of her in surprise, then looked down at herself in lingerie, then back over her shoulder at him in his costume.
He jerked his head to the left, quietly telling her to go.
And that’s why she was running now. They were half-assed attempts most of the time, but when she spotted him behind her, she felt her stomach flutter, and started to break out in a thrilled sprint across whatever room she was in to get away from him. When he chased her, the small hairs on her body raised above her skin, a shudder of excitement ghosting up her spine. It was way too fun to end the game, but getting caught piqued her interest, too.
Dean wouldn’t just start this whole game only for it to end at the capture. No, he was far too creative and way too frisky for that. He had something in mind, something mind blowing, some big treat at the end regardless of the outcome of this chase. That much she knew.
She made her way out of the dungeon, speed walking through the halls, checking her surroundings. At this point, she was considering the removal of her heels. They were very sexy, but definitely not ideal for running. Also, they practically announced her location with each click on the concrete floor, despite her efforts to walk awkwardly in attempts to muffle the sounds.
She had already checked the infirmary, the library, kitchen, bathroom, shooting range. She basically paid a visit to every room in the Bunker and had no luck in bumping into Dean in any of those places.
She thought about what to do about the heels as she went to the one place she hadn’t checked—the garage, where Dean’s favourite sexy, old cars remained. They were perfect for hiding in. Of course, Dean could be waiting to pounce on her from within any one of them, if he was looking through each room. She hoped for the latter, it would give her feet some rest from the painful running. She simply couldn’t walk in heels this tall for very long.
She quietly made her way up the stairs to stand at the entrance of the garage when the alarms stopped and the lights flickered off. She cursed softly under her breath, but Dean already gave his location away by shutting off the loud noises and distracting lights.
Once she slowly set foot deeper into the garage, she quickly scanned around the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She walked to the end of the garage where the black Bentley S2 was and looked around one last time with her hand on the door handle before sneaking inside the backseat of the vehicle.
The leather squeaked beneath her bare skin as she slid across and shut the door once she was inside. She wiggled around to lay down over the beige seat and relaxed at last. Bending her knee, she lifted her leg up to finally remove the heels. Mentally, she apologised to Dean when she took them off.
She lowered her legs and groaned when she looked at the tiny space between the backseat and the front seat. It wasn’t nearly as big as the Impala’s, really rather small, way too small for her to slip between comfortably on her back. If she were on her side… but no, that was out of the question.
She rolled her ankles, stretched her legs, bent them… She did everything until the aches in her legs mostly disappeared. And, wow, she could fall asleep right about now. Except there was a loud bang from something in the garage that made her jump, one of her hands immediately flying to her mouth to contain her hysterical laugh and a yelp.
“I know you’re in here,” Dean taunted nearby. She removed her hand to smile curiously and raised a brow. She wished she could sink into the car seat right about now, but also wanted to lift herself up to see him, but decided against it. Instead, she waited as he looked through every car, every second feeling like a lifetime and yet when he gently pushed against the car she was in with a loud bang, she shouted.
His chest was heaving, his gloved hands were placed on either side of the door where her feet were and she started to laugh instead.
“Hi, baby,” he greeted in a raspy tone, his voice slightly muffled behind the mask. He proceeded to open the door of the car and she sat up, her heart thumping excitedly when he peeked inside and saw her feet covered only in the white thigh highs. “Your feet okay?” He asked, then grasped her ankle, she barely nodded when he tugged her roughly towards him by her foot.
She quickly gripped the seat as the leather squeaked against her ass, heating up her sensitive skin. “Ow,” she chuckled, echoing his own apologetic laugh. He grabbed the seat and leaned inside, his other hand slid up her calf to grab behind her knee. She licked her lips and her face flushed as he parted her legs. Wetness pooled between her thighs, her clit pulsed at the ideas running through her head, instantly becoming aroused as he climbed inside the car, settling into the spot between her legs.
She reached out for his robe and tugged him forward. He reached up and brushed her soft strands of hair away from her shoulder, then let his hand slide to the nape of her neck to grip on it. She pushed out her chest, silently begging for his eyes to drop down and admire her. “You caught me…” she trailed off, feeling a tingle run down her spine when his gloved fingers brushed against her scalp.
“I did…” he teased, tugging her hair. She gasped softly, her thighs twitching to shut when she felt the pressure in her skull run dully to her clit.
The darkness made everything better. She could hear his breathing, her own just as quick as his.
“Are you ready for your first birthday gift?” He asked, disappointingly untangling his fingers from her hair to slide his gloved fingers teasingly down her neck, to the strap of her bra.
She shivered and bit her lip, felt her nipples tightening against the lace of her bra as her fingers slid down the front of her strap. “I thought this morning… with the crepes and with the way that you—”
“Well, this is gonna be your first gift of the night,” he interrupted her, sounding smug. Slowly, Dean slid his hand beneath the strap to drag it off her shoulder, and kept his hand there to push her down onto her back.
“How many gifts do you have for me?” She asked, watching him tilt his head thoughtfully.
“How old are you?” He asked rhetorically as he lifted her thighs above his.
She stared at the mask covering Dean’s face with confusion, then it twisted into incredulity. The soft material of his gloves slid up her sides teasingly, then right back down to playfully snap the garter she was wearing against her soft skin.
“You look so fucking hot, baby,” he groaned, hands sliding slowly over her belly, up her ribs, then coming together over her lace-covered breasts. He squeezed them playfully, felt her thighs become tense against his, and heard her breath hitch softly. “Was that fun?” He asked quietly, pulling the cup of her bra down, she inhaled shakily and whispered a ‘yes’.
Gently, he brushed his thumbs around her nipples, one uncovered and the other still safe inside the lace cup. Still, she felt a tingly sensation spark up on her breasts and between her legs. She murmured his name and arched her back slightly, reaching between her legs to grab his waist.
“I haven’t made you cum like this enough times, have I, sweetheart?” He gently rolled her nipples between his fingers and pinched them, slowly teasing, building up the arousal. She looked at him, face covered in a mask, but there was something so arousing about the darkness, the car, his hands on her chest, the material of his gloves creating a perfect sensation… about wearing the lingerie he bought for her, hearing his ragged breaths moggling with hers, occasional gasps and quiets moans filled up the backseat.
“We never have time…” she agreed, dazed with the yearning. She squirmed, wanting to feel more, but instead of removing his gloves he lowered the other cup and played with them both, used the same techniques to erect them and make her feel desperate, kindling her orgasm.
“Please,” she moaned, fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging up.
“What?” He asked softly, playfully exasperated by her grip. He knew what she wanted as she searched for the edge of the cuff and began tugging downwards.
“I want to feel you,” she murmured, thumbs gently brushing over his pulse point where she could feel his heartbeat thrumming swiftly against the pads of her fingers.
“I thought you liked the feeling like this…” he murmured, removing one hand from her chest and sliding the other upwards to teasingly squeeze her neck. He teased her clit over the lace of her underwear with gloved fingers, her breath catching and barely moving past his gentle grip on her neck.
The teasing didn’t last and neither did the fuzzy breathlessness of his grip on her neck. He removed his gloves quickly and ghosted his fingers sensually up her body again, showing her the feel of his warm, calloused hands on her flushed skin.
She hummed softly, almost a pur, and placed her smaller hands above his, squirming as she attempted to hurry his hands. He only laughed at her attempts, ignored her little whine, and slid his hand under the baby blue bra. He lifted the lacey bra up her chest slowly, so the lace would teasingly brush against her sensitive nipples, and then made an arch over her cleavage.
Her gently used his thumbs to rub the underside of her breasts first, building up the feeling of his warm palm before cupping her breasts. With a gentle squeeze of her breasts, he murmured little praises to her, and tapped around her nipples.
She wiggled impatiently, her excitement growing by the second, heat rising from head to toe like conduction from the warmth of his teasing fingers. The little taps slowly moved inwards, it was gentle, and felt so good, but she wanted more. No amount of squirming from her made Dean accelerate his touch, minute by minute, he kept with the same technique, and finally switched to rubbing her nipple, pinching, twisting..
“More, Dean…” she whined, feeling irritated at being on the edge of her orgasm, like a wave that never came.
“Like what?” He asked playfully, tweaking her nipples to shut her up half way through her ‘fuck you’. Her knees pressed into his sides needily, her back was arched again and he rolled his eyes in amusement when she reached up to his face to pull off the mask. “Tell me first,” he murmured, leaning backwards, getting away from her hands.
“I need…” she laughed softly, “your mouth.”
“Good girl,” he praised tenderly, moving one hand away from her breast.
He moved the mask out of the way with one hand and leaned down over her body to flick his tongue against her nipple a few times. Her knees pressed harder into his sides and she moaned loudly, hands sliding into the hood of his cloak to grip his hair tightly. He wrapped his lips around her nipple, teeth pressing roughly around her flesh, tongue lapping at the hardened bud, and made his cheeks hollow as he sucked harshly, pinching her other nipple roughly with his hand.
Finally, she orgasmed, groaning out a long fuck as she shivered and pulled his face closer to her chest. It wasn’t nearly as intense as if he’d stimulated her clit or any of the spots inside her vagina, but it felt amazing nonetheless.
He smirked against her chest and waited for her body to relax before he pulled away from her chest with an obscenely wet sound and lowered the mask again. He rubbed her hips comfortingly and squeezed her flesh.
“You’ve got some real talent with that tongue of yours and those fingers,” she told him breathlessly, sitting up to wrap her arms around his neck.
“That was more than clear to me this morning,” he agreed with a laugh, gently running his hand up and down her back. “Hold onto me, sweetheart,” he ordered suddenly and wrapped an arm around her waist. She clung to him a little tighter and wrapped her arms around his waist as he made his way out of the backseat of the car.
When he stood straight, rather than setting her down, he kicked the door close—abandoning her heels inside, and began to walk toward the exit of the garage. He turned after a few metres and set her down onto the cold hood of the pale green car. She hissed softly at the coldness of the metal against her skin and let go of him to stare so the confusions into the darkness where Dean was standing.
“Can’t carry me anymore?” She teased, biting her lip.
“You’re really gonna be mean to me?” He snorted, dropping his hands to her thighs to play with the little, light blue bow on her long socks.
“No…” she pouted, reaching out for his hips to bring him closer. “I need you..” she whispered needily, feeling uncomfortably wet. He quietly unclipped the garter from her socks, gently trailed his fingers above the soft hem of them to get to the other side and do the same. Excitement began creeping up in her again and she bit her lip.
Languidly, he slid his hands up her thighs, snapped the waistband of her underwear and trailed his fingers over her pelvis. He hooked his finger under her underwear, felt wetness as he brushed past her folds, with a little moan, he pulled her underwear to the side and thumbed between her folds to gently brush against her clit.
She gasped quietly, her arms shook the longer he teased her. Torturously, he lowered her underwear and let them stay around her parted knees. She slowly lowered herself onto her back with his hand on her ribs pushing her backwards gently.
He lifted her feet to lay fat on top of the car, staring down at her silhouette, clearly making out her lingerie. She parted her legs as far as she could with the underwear around her knees. His fingers ghosted along the inside of thighs, as he kneaded her thighs, he murmured, “one down…”
➥ standing next to you
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All the pie in the world
Summary: It’s Dean's 45th birthday and you will celebrate it.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: fluff, mentions of near-death experience, implied naughtiness, fuck canon, Dean is alive for my story
A/N: A short drabble for his 45th birthday. Take this canon. You cannot stop me!
A single moment. One false step and you almost lost him.
You always feared this is how you are going to lose Dean. In a battle, killed by one of the many things that bump in the night.
It was a close call.
Since that day, you have tried to make the best out of every day you can spend with Dean. Especially when the day is his special day.
January the 24th – his birthday.
You are going to celebrate the day as if there is no tomorrow. When you live the life of a hunter, you never know what will happen next.
“What is all of this?” Sam watches you carry another pie inside the library. You decorated the whole room with balloons, a huge banner saying Happy 45th Birthday, and garlands. “Y/N?”
“A pie for Dean’s birthday,” you quip and go back to decorating the library for the surprise party you planned for Dean’s birthday.
Not many of your friends are still alive, and the rest won’t make it in time for the party. But this didn’t keep you from cooking and baking all night to give Dean the best 45th birthday he could imagine.
“There are like ten pies on the table,” Sam furrows his brows. “Why did you bake so many pies? We are three people and an angel.”
“You only live once,” you shrug before going back to decorating the table. “Dean will get as many pies as he can eat. He’ll get all the pie in the world. I made one of every sort he loves. So, stop moping and help me decorate the room. Dean will be back any minute. He wanted to go for a ride and enjoy the snow is gone.”
“I hope he won’t have a heart attack after eating all the pie,” Sam jokes. “You know he won’t be able to stop eating a slice of every pie you baked for his birthday. His stomach will combust.”
You grin. “That’s the plan, Sam. I will feed my man with so much pie he’ll never complain about getting old again. Dean will be busy complaining about his stomach. I’ll give him belly rubs and—”
“STOP!” Sam raises his hands. “I don’t want to know what comes after the belly rubs.” He shudders. “Please don’t tell me more. No one deserves to hear about the things you and Dean do in the dark.”
“Aw, we don’t do it in the dark, sweet Sammy,” you pat Sam’s chest. “We do it in the morning, during lunch. Sometimes even while having lunch.” You smirk and continue. “Dinner is always special. Dean loves having a snack before the main course. Oh, and we leave the light on. I wanna see the stallion I call my boyfriend when I—”
“I didn’t hear a thing.” Sam puts his index fingers in his ears. “I hate you. Both of you!”
“Sammy! Sweetheart!” Dean calls for you and his brother. “I’m back. Damn, the ride was awesome, and Baby purred like a cat for me. I bet she knows it’s my birth—” He stops in his tracks to drink the decoration in. He hums and wrinkles his nose looking at the big forty-five laughing in his face.
“Happy birthday baby,” you jump in Dean’s arms, giggling as he easily lifts you and helps you wrap your legs around his waistline. “You look good today.” You peck his lips. “We have pie, homemade lasagna, beer, booze, and later…” You dip your head to whisper in his ear. “I’m going to put whipped cream on every important part of you and lick it off.”
“Uh-“ he swallows thickly. “Can we go to the whipped cream part first?” Dean grins when you shake your head. “What else do you have to offer.”
“Ten pies,” Sam says. He points at the table. “Your girlfriend lost her mind, but we still love her.” He says. “I’d hug you and wish you a happy birthday too, but you are occupied with cuddling.”
“We are not cuddling,” Dean grunts, and smirks at his brother. “Not yet, bitch!”
“Jerk,” Sam retorts as always. “Happy birthday man, you don’t look bad for your age.” He grins. “How about you open my present before you unpack something else.”
You let go of Dean and wrap him in a bear hug, whispering Happy birthday again. Sam takes your place when you step away. He hugs his brother and holds him for a moment.
They part after a few moments and nod at each other. Sam steps away and watches his brother sit on a chair.
“I want pie first.” You laugh at Dean’s words. “A slice of every sort!” He exclaims while hungrily staring at the pies on the table. “Damnit, I’ll need bigger pants after this birthday…”
Tags in reblog.
#dean winchester#dean x reader#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#spn#happy birthday dean winchester#dean x you#All the pie in the world
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Happy Birthday Dean!
Dean Winchester x Reader
short one-shot for Dean's birthday because i had to do something for him. this was a bit rushed but very sweet. this fic also shows how much of a led zep nerd i am (oops)
Summary: It's your boyfriend's birthday and you wanted to make it special
Warnings: FLUFF, sexy time implied and dean's dirty mind (as always), not proof read, english is not my first language
WC: 2k
enjoy!
You woke up early that morning and made sure Dean would sleep until late. When you woke up his arms were tight around you, like they always were when you slept, his naked chest glued to your, also, naked back – last night was interesting, to say the least. His warm breath in the back of your neck and his gentle snoring almost lulling you back to sleep but today was a special day, it was Dean’s birthday and you wanted to do something special.
You knew that celebrating his birthday wasn’t common, always too much on his mind and too little people that cared. But you did and you made a promise to yourself to make his birthday be the best one he ever had.
With that said, you reluctantly got out of his grip, making Dean groan in his sleep, knowing even unconsciously the emptiness in his arms. You smiled to yourself at that and admired Dean’s sleeping state for a while longer. He always looked so peaceful – even if he had a weapon under his pillow. He could rest. He had admitted to you once that you were one of the main reasons for that. Knowing you were safe in his arms made him feel safe and it was a mutual feeling. Oh you loved him so much.
You got up, turning away from your boyfriend and putting some clothes on. The ones you were wearing last night scattered all around, the memories making your face heat up. When you left the bedroom, you gave Dean one last look, his strong chest going up and down with deep breaths and one of his feet peeking out from under the cover. You smiled and closed the door behind you.
You spotted Sam in the kitchen before going out and told him your plans for the day.
“Please, if he wakes up, tell him I went out to buy…tampons or just say I’m going to help Charlie with some things she asked for and I’ll be back later” You told him and Sam guaranteed you that Dean would not know about your surprise. You gave Sam a quick hug and a kiss on the cheek as a thank you and bolted to the garage.
You haven’t used your own car in a while so it was weird stepping into the driver’s seat of a car different from the Impala. On your way to the nearest grocery store you made some calls. Charlie and Cas were coming later for the little party and they seemed more than excited to get the invite from you on the phone.
You bought all the flavors of pie you found there. Apple, cherry, pecan, you name it and some other salty snacks. In a liquor store nearby you got beers and whiskey. But there was one thing you were very much looking forward to.
Well, a while ago you had made some calls, some contacts here and there who were also fond of classic rock hooked you up with a guy who was selling a limited edition Led Zeppelin vinyl. A version of Led Zeppelin IV. What can you say, you were kind of also into them, it was one of the reasons you and Dean bonded so quickly in the first place.
You had to drive for two hours (totalizing four to go there and come back) to get the vinyl but it was worth it. You had told Sam about this and he made a face, asking you how you found the money for this but you refused to tell him and just laughed. Once you got the vinyl you would come back as quickly as you could so that Dean wouldn’t suspect it.
Two hours after you left Dean woke up, noticing the other side of the bed empty. He frowned and threw the covers off his body to get up and put clothes on, then leave the bedroom. When he got into the main room in the bunker Sam was sitting at the table, books and a cup of coffee in front of him and he looked up, a wide smile opening up in his face.
Sam stood up and Dean smiled back, opening his arms for a hug.
“Good morning and Happy Birthday” Sam said, his hand patting Dean harshly on the back, earning a laugh from the oldest.
“Thanks Sammy, where’s Y/N?” Dean asked after they pulled away from each other, looking around as if you would pop out from behind the shelves.
“She went to help Charlie with some stuff, she’ll be back soon” He answered and Dean nodded, still a little bitter for you not being with him in bed and giving him a birthday morning sex as a present. Well, maybe there would be a birthday night sex. He smirked at the thought and went to the kitchen to get some coffee.
You were almost back at the bunker, the vinyl secured inside your bag wrapped in cheap colorful paper that you got at the convenience store. Charlie had texted you she was almost there and Cas said he was arriving soon.
You texted Sam saying that you were due back in 20 minutes since you were a few miles away and that he could distract Dean for a while so that you could make little decorations for the birthday party. Sam agreed and told you he would try and keep Dean away from the house for an hour or so. Perfect.
Once you arrived you got right to work, blowing balloons, getting the pies and the chips ready and hiding your present in a bedroom that used to be yours before you started sleeping with Dean. Charlie arrived with Cas and had helped you put everything up, talking to you about how nice it was of you to do this and that she would kill to have a girlfriend like you. You laughed at the comment and jokingly said that Dean had, in fact, killed for you – even if it wasn’t totally a joke.
Sam had texted you again. Back in 10. Perfect timing Moose. Everything was done by the time you received the message and you decided to hide behind the furniture so that it would purposefully make Dean confused since he definitely would see your car parked in the garage.
“Y/N, sweetheart, you here?” You heard the door opening and the unmistakable voice of your boyfriend and his brother filled your ears. The talking stopped, Dean probably noticing the weird silence in the place and you knew he was probably reaching for his gun about this moment, his steps becoming lighter on the stairs. You held back a chuckle.
Once he came down the last step you jumped from behind the table, Charlie and Castiel along with you. He indeed had his gun out, Sam almost red from holding back his laughter behind him.
“Happy Birthday Dean!” You four screamed, startling the man. But, once the shock was gone he broke out into a huge smile and you ran into his arms, wrapping your hands around his neck as he twirled you around, a fit of giggles coming out of you as he laughed. He put you down and gave you a firm peck on the lips.
“So this is what you were actually doing, I thought you had abandoned me this morning” He said and you playfully rolled your eyes at his drama. He pulled away from you and walked towards the table. “Baby this is amazing, you’re amazing”
He hugged Charlie and Cas, thanking both of them too for the surprise. He rubbed both his hands together, just like how a Disney villain would, and smiled widely.
“All right, let’s get this party started shall we?” He said and you all laughed at his childness, already reaching for a slice of pie and a beer bottle.
Everything was perfect, you had never seen Dean this happy – except when you guys kissed for the first time and he looked like he had won the lottery. He was laughing, having fun and talking about everything and you noticed how this little party meant more to him than you imagined.
By the end, Charlie, Sam and Cas had given him their presents. Each had some importance to Dean in a different way but yours was left for later, you wanted to be alone with him when he received it.
It was late when the party ended, everyone was a bit drunk and full of food. You told Charlie and Cas they could stay the night and they thanked you for it, each going to clean up and go to bed. You stayed behind to clean the mess.
While you were cleaning some plates in the kitchen you felt a big pair of hands wrap around your waist and kisses being left over your shoulders. You hummed and leaned back on Dean's chest, one of his hands wandering lower.
“Hm, and what is your present to me, huh sweetheart?” He said. Before he could lower his hand even more you grabbed his wrist gently. You could practically hear his pout and you turned around on his hold, wrapping your arms around his neck.
“I have one,” You smiled. “Well, more than one” You completed with a suggestive grin and Dean smirked down at you, smashing his lips on yours in a mindblowing kiss, his tongue dancing beautifully against yours as his hands gripped your hips. You reluctantly pulled away by pressing a hand to his chest and he groaned in disapproval. You chuckled. “I’m serious, I have something for you”
You grabbed his hand and led him to your shared room, telling him to wait there as you grabbed the wrapped vinyl in your previous bedroom. When you came back your hands were holding the album teasingly behind your back, a giddy smile on your face.
You extended your hands in front of you, the wrapped gift gripped by your fingers and Dean smiled at you.
“Happy Birthday handsome” You said and he grabbed the gift, studying the wrapping as he undid the knot tying it closed. You bit your lip, analyzing his face as he slowly discarded the wrapper and looked at the album in his hands.
Dean’s eyes widened and his mouth opened in a perfect ‘O’. He looked between you and the classic rock vinyl and placed your gift delicately over the bed before wrapping his arms around you and smashing his lips to yours. You yelped when he picked you up, making you wrap your legs around his waist.
“I love you so much, thank you” He said after he pulled away. “How did you even find this?”
“I have my sources” You said with a grin and kissed him again. He put you down and went to grab the vinyl again, taking the disc out of the cover. He had a vinyl player in his room and he put it there to play, the sound of “Black Dog” filling the small room.
He turned back to you and slowly walked your way, playfully dancing to the tune, shaking his shoulders making you chuckle. He grabbed your waist and pulled you into him, giving you a passionate, deep, loving kiss and you melted. Your hand went to the back of his neck to tug at the strands making him groan.
He pushed back you until your knees hit the bed, making you fall into the mattress. He lowered his lips to your neck leaving hickeys and bites along the flesh making you let out low moans and groans.
He held himself up by his elbows, his face close to yours.
“What’s my other present?” He whispered against your lips and you grinned wickedly, one of your hands rubbing at his chest.
“Why don’t you find out for yourself, hm?” You whisper back seductively and he kisses you again, his hands traveling under your shirt and rubbing at your flesh.
Dean never really liked birthdays but today, for him, was the best day ever because as long as he got to spend it with you, nothing could make it bad.
A/N: Likes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing. Feedback makes those writing better. Thank you for reading, XoXo
#supernatural imagine#supernatural#supernatural fandom#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#supernatural x reader#spn fic#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#dean x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x you#spn#happy birthday dean#dean#jensen ackles#writers on tumblr#jensen ackles x reader
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Prove It (Pt 1/5)
Dean Winchester x Reader
A forgetten date, a broken heart. Can Dean fix what he broke and prove how much he loves you?
The sound of Dean's phone ringing felt like it echoed through your head. You groaned and buried your face in his chest, feeling the light rumble of his laughter underneath you. You listened as he answered the phone and best you could tell it was Garth on the other end asking for an assist.
Dean tapped your shoulder and when you looked up at him he motioned to the phone "It would be an overnight. Are you good with that?" You nodded already forming a plan to put the ideas that had been running through your head into action. If this hunt was an overnight that would put them getting home to the bunker the night of yours and Dean's sixth anniversary.
-------------
When Dean got off the phone he slid one finger under your chin to tilt your face up where he could place a kiss on your lips "You're being quiet and you have that face you make when you're planning something" you shrugged "Maybe I'm planning you a surprise for our anniversary"
A smile slipped onto his face before he pulled you on top of him. Once you were comfortably straddling him he reached up to gently cup the side of your face "Sweetheart you putting up with me for Six years is a surprise enough" You laughed then slapped his chest playfully "You're such a pain in the ass Dean!"
He rolled his hips up causing a gasp to leave your lips considering how sore you wore from him. His smile slipped into a smirk "You like when I'm a pain in other places" you shook your head then leaned down to place a quick kiss on his lips "You need to get dressed and update Sam"
He watched you crawl off of him before pouting "Fine, kick me out" You rolled your eyes and stood out of the bed grinning when Dean's eyes tracked your every movement.
Normally when the boys rolled out on a hunt you'd be in the impala right along with them so it was a little weird to be staying home but you knew for a fact Dean had never been given the opportunity of anything normal. Birthdays, holidays. He'd never had anyone celebrate him and that was what you intended to do.
------------
You'd ended up tracking down a signed original pressing led zeppelin album for Dean. It had taken a four hour round trip drive to pick it up but you knew he'd love it.
The lack of noise in the bunker was making your ears ring so you ended up going to bed early. There was an apple pie already made in the fridge and waiting to be baked the following day along with a meal of all of Dean's favorites. Your plan was to have it still be nice and fresh when Dean got home.
You'd done everything that needed to be done around the bunker. Laundry was put away, weapons had gotten broke down and cleaned or sharpened. You'd even made some salt rounds.
You had one of Dean's mixed Playlists going as you pulled the pie out of the oven, sitting it aside so it could cool. Dinner of steak, potatoes and grilled veggies was already done as well.
You checked the time on your phone and felt a hit of nerves wash over you. They should've called by now. You decided to wrap the food up and stick it in the fridge, you could always warm it up when they got back.
-----------
Two hours passed before your phone rang. It wasn't Dean's number but Sam's. "Is he ok?" You asked in place of a hello and Sam laughed lightly "He's fine. I just wanted to let you know we stopped at a bar so we might be a little later"
You felt your heart drop. Your eyes flicked over to the table in the corner of the room you shared with Dean where the gift bag with his record and the covered pie sat. "He wanted to go to a bar?" You asked fighting back tears. Sam must have misread your reaction because he assured you "It's just for a beer Y/N. You know Dean only has eyes for you. We'll be home soon"
And yet he forgot your anniversary, that you were planning a surprise, that maybe you wanted him home.
You bit your tongue from so many words that wanted to fall out and instead bit back "I don't give a damn when he gets home" and hung up. You couldn't hold back the tears any longer. You barely registered the blanket falling off the bed when you stood up. You wouldn't be here when Dean got home.
---------
You'd been with Dean for six years, had been friends with him for longer. You did everything for him and Sam alike. You fought for them,bled for them hell you'd died for them. You always put everyone else first and had simply asked one damn night out of the man that was supposed to love you and that was too much to ask. If you were that much of a second thought why stick around?
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#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#dean winchester fanfiction#prove it mini series
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