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squirrel-moose-winchester · 4 years

Text

Girl of My Dreams

Title: Girl of My Dreams

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 3828

Square Filled: Friends to Lovers

Summary: Sleeping together turns into actually sleeping together when a sleepy confession breaks all of Dean’s walls.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut (18+ ONLY), then back to Fluff! Unprotected Sex (wrap it up kids!), Oral Sex (Female Receiving), Masturbation, and Slight Language.

Written for @spndeanbingo

A/N: Sooo… when I started writing this, my intentions were for it to be so incredibly fluffy it would rot your teeth, but then things took a different turn and now you’ve got something fluffy and smutty. Not a bad combination if you ask me. However, I did get carried away. Like way away! Lol. Oh well! I hope you enjoy it! Happy Reading!xx

Sleepovers weren’t uncommon for you and Dean since the two of you were best friends. You’d always get comments like, “you guys act like you’re dating”, “you guys are such a cute couple”, or “you guys argue like an old married couple.” Eventually, it started to become a natural thing, and those comments no longer affected any of you. Neither tried to deny or rectify the truth.

Dean woke up first, light mossy eyes slowly fluttering open in the dimly lit bedroom, the only stream of light coming through the haphazardly closed curtains. His eyes instantly landed on your sleeping face only inches from his. He couldn’t help but smile. There was no doubt he loved you, but how far that love went, he never thought about it.

“Dean…” you mumbled. Dean’s ears perked at the weak sound of his name. “You’re an idiot,” you continued. Dean chuckled knowing you were talking in your sleep, obviously dreaming about him. It wasn’t a frequent occurrence, but when you did, you always had something interesting to say. Last time you spoke in your slumber, you were apparently a male wrestler, trying to rob a bank. It was bizarre.

“Why am I an idiot?” Dean replied, his voice thick with sleep – deep and raspy. He knew you’d respond. You always did.

“Because…” you voice trailed off, your nose scrunching as you snuggled closer to him, most likely searching for more warmth. It was a little chilly in the room.

“Because what?” Dean asked, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you in closer.

“Because you are,” your breath fanned against his neck, sending shivers and goosebumps throughout his body and sending a wave of arousal to his already hard member. He groaned at the sensation, willing to shake the feeling away. The feeling rarely happened, and when it did, he always manages to sate it. You were his best friend; he couldn’t be thinking about you that way. He shouldn’t.

“Dean…” you whispered again, hot breath warming his sleep induced heated skin.

“Yeah, Sweetheart,” he struggled to say.

“I love you.”

A small smile graced his lips as he squeezed you tighter, your words melting him. “I know.”

“No…”

“No?” Dean questioned, moving his head slightly so he could look at you.

“I’m in love with you,” you revealed in your latent state. Dean almost felt guilty, as if hearing something he shouldn’t have. “I’m in love with you, you big dummy…”

Dean’s stomach began to flip, swirling like a hurricane. He felt his cheeks heat up, and his cock become painfully hard. His senses heightened and he could feel every curve and soft skin of your body pressing against his. As if Pandora’s box was opened. In that moment, he wanted you, needed you. In that moment, he realized that he was in love with you too. All this time you’ve been by his side, and it took him till now to realize it. He really was a “big dummy.”

“Shit,” he groaned, gently pushing you away and rushing into the bathroom.

Once the door was closed and locked, Dean turned on the showerhead to hot, stripping out of his clothes, and jumping in, feeling the lukewarm water pierce his skin before turning scalding hot. Dean altered the water again so it was hot enough to not cook him alive. His chest was heaving as he saw visions of you every time he closed his eyes.

Frustration took over him and he needed to satisfy himself, so he took his thick and heavy member into his palm, pumping slowly before ramping up his speed. He came with your name falling through his lips repeatedly. His release painted the walls as he breathed heavily. He had never come so hard and so much from just his hand before, it was ridiculous. And the fact it was to you.

When he stepped out of the bathroom with a towel hung lowly around his waist, he saw you sitting on the bed, hair messy, and crop top tousled and draping over one of your shoulders from your movements through the night. His eyes were locked onto your form as if in a trance. He bit his lip when your stretched, raising your arm over your head, the motion lifting your top and exposing your soft stomach. Dean growled softly, feeling his cock begin to stir once again under the towel.

“Morning,” you smiled lazily, eyes still half closed. “I’m hungry,” was the next thing you said, making him chuckle. He felt ridiculous for having such dirty thoughts about you, when you were acting as if nothing happened. Completely innocent, unlike Dean… who had gotten himself off at the thought of you. “Make me tea, slave!” You ordered, the same drowsy look on your face, before you fell back onto the used bed.

Dean couldn’t help but eye you up. Your shirt had risen just high enough that he could see your under boob, and immediately Dean was hungry too… but not for sustenance.

“Yeah, sure…” Dean muttered, his voice coming out strained, as if he was being tortured, which he technically was. He wondered how this was happening so fast… and all at once.

Dean quickly shoved on a pair of running shorts, forgoing underwear since he was only staying in house, and heading out of his bedroom and into the kitchen.

By the time the hot water was done, and he was pouring the steaming content into your favorite mug that said, “my house” even though it was his house. The notion didn’t seem as funny as it did before. Now… Dean wouldn’t mind having his house being yours as well. The two of you were best friends after all. You knew everything about him. You’d seen him at his best and worst, and have stayed by his side no matter what. You were his constant. You were his rock. You were his.

“I want Jasmine,” your voice interrupted his thoughts, making him jolt and dropping the Jasmine tea bag into the mug.

Your body made it’s way beside him, your warm skin brushing against his. Your head lulled over, resting on his arm, just below his shoulder because you were that short. His eyes fell on your figure as he watched you gracefully grab the mug, bringing it up to your nose and inhaling deeply, before letting out a content sigh.

He continued to watch you as you brought down the mug to your lips, taking a sip before letting out a yelp. “Hot!” You shouted, setting the mug on the table before covering your mouth with your hand, as if that was going to do anything.

Dean let out another exasperated laugh, lightly slapping his palm on his forehead. He felt utterly ridiculous. He’d been around you for so long, seen you do stupid things so many times, and yet… he hadn’t realized just how adorable you were. Just how much you filled his heart like no one else did. How could he have not noticed before? How could he be that fucking stupid?

When he looked over at you again, you were looking up at him with that annoyed pout you always did. God, he wanted to kiss you, and then without thinking, he leaned in and did just that. Sealing his lips to your unsurprisingly soft ones. When he pulled away, a dreamy sigh left your lips and before he knew what was happening, you were on your tippy-toes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for another.

Dean groaned into the kiss, his arms easily encasing your figure and pressing it flush against his. The kiss became desperate, and Dean bent his knees and lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping themselves around his taught waist.

“Bed,” you manage to say against his lips, and Dean wasted no time in following orders, especially when it meant he would get to kiss you like this all day.

Dean dropped your bodies onto the bed, eliciting an excited squeal from you. You giggled before Dean covered your lips with his, slanting perfectly over yours. He grinded his hips between your legs, the sweatpants you were wearing doing little to hide the heaviness and largeness of what Dean had been blessed with below the waist.

You moaned at the feel, allowing Dean to shove his tongue into your mouth, tongues languidly caressing with one another. Just the kiss alone was enough to make your eyes roll back and take every breath away from you. Unable to breath, you shoved Dean away, gasping for air. Instead, he moved his lips to your neck, licking, nipping, and sucking, searching for your weak spot.

It was the sound of your shaky inhale that alerted him that he had found the right spot, worrying the area until it was prominently red. “Dean,” his name fell through your lips like a purr, the sound driving him more crazy than he already was. He wanted to hear it again. Needed to hear it again.

He trailed his lips down to your exposed shoulder, yanking down your shirt until one breast was fully exposed. Without wasting any time, he took your nipple into his hot mouth, shoving as much as he could take. He sucked hard, his tongue fiddling with your hard nub, causing you to arch your back. “Dean!” You breathed again, this time a little more winded.

Dean didn’t relent, ripping your shirt in half like a savage and tossing the ruined fabric behind him so he could get to your other breast. He gave the same treatment as he did the other, and his hands gripped your waist, keeping you still so he could have his way.

“Please,” you begged, the word coming out strangled. Releasing her nipple with a wet pop, his eyes met yours briefly, both of you sporting lust blown looks.

Dean dragged his tongue down your torso, circling around your bellybutton, which resulted in you bucking your hips to his, rubbing against his strained cock, making both of you moan. Dean slithered lower, leaving a trail of wet kissed down to the soft elastic of your sleeping pants. In one swift motion, Dean was on his knees, peeling your pants off of you and dropping it somewhere in the room, delighted to find out that you weren’t wearing panties. Dean groaned as his cock twitched. Regaining some composure of what little he had left, he resumed his position, and he could feel you shaking. You wanted this. You wanted it so bad, and Dean could tell.

His vision locked on your bare, soaked, pussy, deliciously waiting for him to devour it. “Fuck,” he exhaled, the warmth of his breath grazing over the heat of your needy cunt.

“Please,” you begged again, rolling your hips upwards in hopes you’d reach his mouth, but to your disappointment, Dean just held you down. “Dean, please. I need you!”

Dean groaned, watching your strung out expression, reveling in the thought that it was all because of him. Knowing that he was the one driving you crazy. With new found confidence and hunger, Dean flattened his tongue against your folds and lapped up your pussy, starting from the bottom all the way up to your clit with a playful flick.

Your body convulsed in surprise as a loud moan filled the room. The sound was heaven and Dean needed to hear it over and over again, so this time, he wrapped his mouth over your clit, sucking and teasing it with the tip of his tongue. Slowly but surely, he was making you fall apart, just like the thought of you made him fall apart during his morning shower.

The more Dean continued to taste and lavish your increasingly sensitive pussy, the louder you became. He never pegged you for the loud type, but it did nothing but spur him on. A sweet serendipity. By the end of his ministrations, he wanted you screaming his name. He wanted his neighbors to know who you belonged to, who made you feel this good, that he was the only person that could tear you apart in the best way possible.

Seconds later you were shaking under his face, your juices spilling into his mouth while your hands tugged on his hair, trying to pry him off. You were so overly stimulated that it was too much, but Dean didn’t falter, continuing to ride out your orgasm with slow strokes of his tongue against your clit, delving into your vagina now and again.

Your body continued to twitch under his ministration, your hands still locked in a vice grip in his hair. By the time your body simmered down to deep breathing, Dean pulled away, a warm smile on his lips, which was covered with your slick.

Your eyes met and instantly you both knew things were different, but it didn’t feel alarming. Instead, it felt peaceful, as if everything was now right with the world. Like what was meant to be finally was.

You watched intently as Dean got off of the bed, his eyes raking over your body. The massive tent in his pants made you bite your bottom lip, anticipation adding pressure to your core and making the butterflies go from a flutter to a downright whirlwind in your stomach. From what you could see, he was huge.

Dean shoved his shorts down, exposing him in all his glory. A gasp left your lips and you felt your pussy pulse at the sight. Dean was gorgeous and well endowed, much more intimidating that you thought he’d be. There was no doubt in your mind that Dean would end all men for you.

No words were shared as Dean crawled back onto you like a predator, his hips resting perfectly between your legs, his cock pressed just as perfectly between your folds. Dean’s lips connected with yours in another heated kiss, both your hips gyrating against each other, his cock teasing your pussy delectably as his tip brushed against your clit with purpose.

You purred under him, your hands roaming down to grip his ass, but as quick as they found their purchase, they were above your head, each of Dean’s hands threading through yours, lacing them together.

With one final suck of your tongue, Dean pulled away from the kiss, his hair disheveled and lips swollen, just like yours. He slip your hands down to either sides of your head, pushing himself up as his eyes drank you in. Dark emerald orbs moved from your own, tracing down to your lips, over your perky breasts, then down your torso till they landed on your pussy, where his leaking head was waiting at your entrance.

“Please,” you pleaded for the millionth time. “I need you inside me.”

Your whimpers were a challenge of it’s own, testing Dean’s self control. It was already a thin line, barely hanging by a thread. It was such low hanging fruit that you could simply pluck it off and toss him into blind lust, but he was determined to behave himself, even just a little. He wanted his first time with you to be more than just feral need. He planned on dragging this out, mesmerizing your body, making up for lost time, apologizing to you for making you wait so long for him. He was going to show you how much he was in love with you.

Dean groaned, eyes rolling back, as he slowly entered you. Both of you watched as your pussy engulf his massive cock, his member unable to submerge all the way in. Dean’s eyes met yours, noticing the need in them and pushed himself in deeper, seeing just how much you could take. Your eyes rolled back while your head dropped to the mattress, a string of cuss words filling the room. Dean stopped, holding himself there, waiting for you to adjust.

“Please, don’t stop. Put it all in. All of it, please!” Your plea ended up sounding like you were crying, and you were. You were desperate to have all of him. To take all he had to offer. “Please!”

Dean growled, his control about to snap. At that point he knew what kind of lover you could be. One who likes it a little rough. One who likes a little pain with the pleasure. Giving into your will, Dean pushed in, trying to force the rest of him in, his tip already pressing against your cervix. You cried out, tears slipping down your cheeks before disappearing. Dean noticed the tears but continued to burry himself to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he huffed. Dean could see the bulge in your stomach, the sight enough to almost make him lose it. “I can’t,” he gritted, “Sweetheart, it won’t fit.”

“No!” You shouted. “Don’t stop, please. I need all of it.”

“Fuck,” Dean hissed. He was definitely in love. Following your orders, Dean pushed himself in, fighting the barrier to shove all of him in. In the end he was too big. “Shit, baby, I can’t.” Before you could say another word, Dean rammed against your already stuffed cunt, hitting his head roughly against your cervix, earning a loud yelp from your parted lips. “Baby…” his voice came out low and gravelly, maybe even dangerously. “I told you, I can’t fit it all in.” He rammed against you again, a sharp cry ringing through the room as more tears were shed. “My giant cock can’t fit in your tiny little pussy,” he hissed, as if scolding you yet taunting you.

You were at a complete loss for words, and Dean took it upon himself to pull out, then slowly push back in, using all his weight to push as much as he could inside of you. It had already been established that he wouldn’t fit, but that didn’t stop him from trying with every thrust. You sang every time, your sweet moans driving him near insane.

His thrusts went from slow and deep, to steady, deep and rough. You were screaming in bliss, your pussy tightening around him with ever plunge. No one had ever filled you up so full before, and no one had ever made your body sing like he did. Every thrust bringing you closer and closer to the edge.

With one particular hard thrust, Dean forced as much as he could, not stopping until he pushed you up the bed a little. A scream tore from deep in your chest and suddenly you fell apart, your body violently trembling beneath him. As you fell apart, Dean did nothing to retreat, only continuing to shove himself deeper, even if it was no use.

He grunted, reveling in the feel of your sweet cunt pulsing around his dick. You were so fucking tight, and so fucking perfect. Dean felt as if he was losing his mind, and maybe he was. He pulled out and your body jumped at the emptiness.

You opened your eyes and met Dean staring down at you. “Turn over for me, Sweetheart,” he ordered, his voice low and sensual. Just the sound had your pussy clenching around nothing.

Obeying his wishes, your turned over on your stomach. You felt his soft lips against your shoulder and back and then back up to your earlobe where he took it into between his teeth, tugging softly. “You ready?” Dean asked.

“Fuck me, please.”

Once again, Dean filled you up. You screamed as your eyes rolled back. Dean slipped his arms under yours, his hands wrapping around your throat gently, adding a little pressure as he continued to slowly pump inside you.

Dean was trying to control himself, wanting to feel your smooth walls slide over him. He wanted to mesmerize the feeling, lock it into his memories forever. Wet. Warm. Fucking tight!

“Harder,” you gasped as Dean met your cervix with every thrust. “I need it! Give it to me harder!”

As if something snapped inside of him, Dean’s grip on your throat tightened, cutting off your airway slightly as he slammed into you. He was so deep, so overwhelming and overstimulating that you were already coming, squeezing him so tight that it almost hurt.

Dean grunted, trying to fuck you through your orgasm but was suddenly met with his own. His hips pressing flush against your ass as he filled you up. Your eyes rolled back, your entire body falling limp as you felt him gushing. You had never had anyone come so much inside you that it dribbled out of your pussy as he still came, ropes and ropes of his seed. It was mind blowing.

Your body fell completely limp as Dean continued to ride out his high. Dean wasn’t sure if you had passed out or not. “You okay there, Sweetheart?” He asked, releasing your throat but keeping himself lodge inside of you.

“Fuck,” you moaned, having a hard time breathing with his weight on top of you, but you didn’t dare say anything about it. You liked his weight. Welcomed it. “That was so fucking good.” Dean chuckled, slipping out of you and making you gasp. You could feel clumps of his seed dribbling out of your vagina, the sensation making you smile.

You turned your head to the side, meeting Dean’s gaze. He was smiling back, his eyes blazing with something you’ve never seen before. You could tell he was happy, but the way his eyes shined, you knew it was beyond that. Your own lips stretched wide, marveling at the man before you.

“I love you,” you blurted.

“I know,” he grinned.

“No. What I mean is that… I’m in love with you,” you clarified.

“I know,” his grin only widened. “And I’m in love with you.”

A dopey grin spread across your face, your eyes closing with contempt. You’ve loved Dean forever and now you knew he felt the same way. “Since when?” The words slipped out.

“Honestly… I think I’ve loved you even way before I met you.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You giggled, unable to understand where he was getting at.

“You’re the girl of my dreams,” he revealed, pearly white teeth on display as he smiled, waiting for your reaction to his hopelessly cheesy confession.

A string of giggle left you, eyes squinting close before your eyes locked on his. God he thought you were beautiful. A fucking goddess.

“Dean Winchester, you are one sappy son of a bitch.” Dean boomed with laughter, an arm snacking under you back and hauling you above him so that you were straddling his hip, his cock already hard between your stomachs. It hadn’t even been five minutes. “Wanna know what else you are?”

“What?” Dean asked, watching you flick your eyes downward to his raging boner.

“Insatiable.”

“Damn right I am,” Dean agreed with pride, lifting you easily, readying his cock at your entrance for round two. “Now ride me.”

A/N: If you liked it, please reblog and leave some feedback. Reblogging is the only way to help me get my fics to reach more readers, and feedback pretty much feeds my writing soul! And I would really appreciate the love! xx

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notfunnydean · 5 years

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Call me maybe

Pairing: Dean Winchester / Castiel

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.328

Square Filled: Accidental Call

Summary: When Dean and Sam finish a hunt, they call Castiel to let him know they are coming back. Too bad Dean doesn’t realize that he is calling him accidently again after he hung up and what he says, changes everything for him.

A/N: So I really love misunderstandings, so of course I had to use this square in an angsty way :3

This is for the @spndeanbingo

Link (if posted on AO3): https://archiveofourown.org/works/18924094

“Son of a bitch!” Dean growls, when he looks at Baby. There is blood all over her hood and the window at the passenger seat is broken. There would be shards on her beautiful leather seats that Dean polished just yesterday.

“Oh yeah I’m fine, thank you for asking.” Sam says and he sounds a bit too sarcastic for Dean’s liking. Dean looks briefly at his brother, who is okay… yeah he is limping, but Dean hadn’t known that the freaking witch had a sister.

“You’ll live.” Dean mutters and walks around Baby. The fight had actually started in the cabin in these woods, but somehow one of the witches had followed Sam outside and apparently directly towards Dean’s beautiful car.

“It’s just a car, Dean.” Sam says and Dean can almost hear him rolling his eyes at him. Dean takes a deep breath, takes off his leather jacket and throws it on the backseat. He swallows down a grown, because there is a rather big gash on his left arm.

“It’s just a car, Dean.” Dean imitates Sam rather badly and then watches his brother, wiping the shards from the seat down to the ground. Dean sighs and gets rid of his flannel as well. He closes his eyes and rips it in two halves, he can always buy more.

He wraps one half around his arm, so that it finally stops bleeding, because he doesn’t want more blood on his beautiful baby. After that he walks over to the front of the car and uses the rest of his flannel to clean her hood at least a bit. He doesn’t want any discussions with cops or whatever. He can't do anything about the window though.

“Really?” Sam asks, rubbing his temples. Dean had seen that he took a rather hard blow to his head earlier and winces. Dean didn’t do so good either today, aside from his arm, his ribs are hurting badly and his left eye is almost completely swollen by now.

He hates witches.

“Maybe make yourself useful and call Cas, tell him we will come home now.” Dean says and winces, when he sees that Baby’s left light is also broken. Maybe he has another one at the bunker.

“You can call your boyfriend yourself.” Sam says and then gets out one of his books that he still has in his bag. Dean huffs loudly, because lately Sam thinks he is super funny and says stuff like this all the time.

The first time Dean had gone bright red, when Sam had implied something like that. For a very horrible second he had thought that Sam knew about his feelings. Dean had stammered something and then left, only to discover that Sam was just teasing him and knew nothing.

Well yeah maybe he assumed stuff, but he doesn’t know.

“Fuck you.” Dean just says and then searches for his phone. When he realizes it's in his pocket, Dean whines at nothing and goes to the backseat again. His phone is in his pocket and he frowns when he pulls it out.

“What is it now?” Sam asks as he tries to concentrate on his book and Dean whines a second time, only a bit louder. Sam is probably looking up the spell one of the witches had used against them. Dean looks sadly at his used-to-be-new phone.

“Broke my phone.” Dean says and looks at the black screen. This is just his day. Sam doesn’t even answer that, instead he reaches for his own phone and holds it up for Dean to take. Dean sighs and takes the white device.

He is glad to know Castiel’s number from the top of his head, because Sammy has one of those shiny smartphones and Dean can't be bothered to find Castiel's number in the contacts of that thing, so types Castiel’s number and only has to wait for a second.

“Hello Sam.” Castiel says rather bored and Dean blinks over to his brother. He knows that Sam and Castiel are good friends too, but Dean loves to think that the angel likes him a bit more. Maybe just because of the bond.

“No it’s me.” Dean says and he can’t help the tiny smile that appears on his face. Sam coughs slightly and Dean frowns before he closes the door of Baby and takes a few steps away from her.

“Oh, hello Dean.” Castiel says and yes, that sounds much happier. Dean almost squirms after those words, even though Castiel can’t even see him. While Dean, of course, prefers to actually see Castiel, his voice always did wonders to him anyway.

“Just wanted to check in. We got the witch. Actually we got two for one.” Dean grins and he hears Castiel chuckle on the other side of the line. Dean kicks a tiny stone away and waits for Castiel to answer.

“I hope you both are well.” Castiel says in the end and Dean shrugs, which causes his ribs to hurt even more. He hisses quietly, but of course Castiel hears it anyway.

“Dean, are you okay? Tell me where you are.” Castiel says and he goes from just worried to very overprotective, Dean turns completely away from the car, because he is for sure blushing, but he loves this. In his darkest moments, he had even faked feeling unwell, just so Castiel would touch him.

“It’s fine, Cas. Just a few bruises here and there. We will drive home now, probably be there in three or four hours, if we stop for some dinner.” Dean says and he can hear how Castiel relaxes. He seems to sit on the old couch in his ‘Dean cave’, because that thing always squeaks a bit, when you lean against the armrest.

“Good. I will still heal you both, when you come back.” Castiel says and Dean knows that he doesn't need to argue with that. Lately Castiel always wins the fight and while Dean still fake protests, the angel gets what he wants. Dean would never admit that to anyone, but it actually feels pretty good if someone takes care of you for once.

They are both quiet and Dean imagines for a second, that he would say something really weird. Something along the lines of: “Can’t wait to be with you again.” Instead he just shakes his head and walks back to the car.

“Okay fine.” Dean says before he hangs up and opens the door. Sam finally looks up from his book and then puts it back in his bag. The nerd can’t read while Dean drives or he would puke. His ribs are hurting a lot more when Dean sits down on his seat, and now he is relieved that Castiel can actually heal him.

“Your phone is weird.” Dean says and holds it out for his brother to take. Sam decides to ignore that snippy comment like always and puts the phone on the console. Dean is glad that he decided to get rid of the horrible iPod at least.

“So what did your boyfriend say?” Sam asks and there is that damn smirk again. Dean thinks for a second about smacking his hurting knee, but then again he did hurt his brother enough for more than a lifetime.

“He is not my boyfriend.” Dean mutters and he can feel how the tips of his ears grow hot. Maybe he should think about long hair as well, but he knows that he can’t pull that off. Not that he would ever admit it, but Sam can.

“Yeah but you wish.” Sam says and he chuckles quietly. Dean knew for at least twenty years by now that he likes men as well. He did act on that a few times, even though it was rather simply stricted. That still doesn’t mean he feels comfortable talking about it.

Rationally he knows that Sam would never judge him for something like this and he wishes he could be more proud of what he is, but there were too many words from his father, that Dean still tries to forget, so he is still hiding it.

Crushing on Cas? Well that started rather simple as well, because those damn blue eyes alone are enough to get Dean’s blood boiling, but with every month Dean fell a little bit more.

So of course Dean does what he always does. He denies his feelings.

“I think you should shut your mouth, Sammy. You know what? It’s ridiculous that you think I would like Cas! I mean did you see him, the dude is stranger than anything. So please for the love of god, leave me alone.” Dean growls out and his heart aches at his own words.

Sam doesn’t say anything and Dean tries to relax again. It doesn’t work, even when he turns the music louder and starts humming to it, his mind still fixed on those words. He is just glad that Castiel promised never to spy on them again.

“Cas, we’re home!” Dean yells loudly, when they arrive at the bunker. Baby is safely parked in the garage and first thing in the morning, Dean would repair the window and then wash her. She really deserves that after such a day.

But for now all Dean wants is to shower himself and then maybe he could defreeze some of the burgers he made last week, because they didn’t stop for dinner. Sam is still not talking to Dean and Dean was pouting the whole way home.

Dean stops when there is no answer. Normally Castiel always waits for them, when he knows that they are coming home. It’s one of the main reasons that Dean calls beforehand. He wants Castiel to wait for him, no matter how selfish that is.

“Cas?” Dean asks and he goes to their kitchen. There is a half empty mug on the table, but otherwise nobody seems to be here. Dean frowns. Maybe the bunker was attacked while they were gone, but the door was still locked, when Dean had opened it.

“Sam, we have a problem.” Dean says, when he hastily goes back to the garage. Sam is still standing there and looks at something on his phone, when Dean almost runs into him.

“Cas is not here and maybe something happened, do you have any idea…” Dean starts to babble and he feels himself panicking already, when Sam holds up his hand to shut him up. Dean is so surprised, that he really stops mid sentence.

“You called Cas!” Sam says and he scrolls on his phone. Dean isn’t sure what his brother’s problem is, because he was right there and even gave Dean the phone, when he had called.

“Yeah? Are you kidding me, I asked you for your phone, remember?” Dean asks roughly, but then he softens at the end. Maybe Sam doesn’t remember and the spell the witch used was taking Sam’s memories.

Sam rolls his eyes and okay, rude.

“No after you hung up. I have another answered call from Cas here.” Sam says and this time he holds his phone up, so Dean can see it for himself. Sam is right, there are actually two calls to Cas and the second one starts… right after the first one ended.

“Fuck.” Dean breaths out. Castiel had heard the lies he had told Sam. He had heard the awful things Dean said and Dean thinks he needs to puke. Sam doesn’t stop him, when Dean runs back into the bunker.

“Anything new?” Sam asks a week later, when he finds Dean sitting with Charlie in the library. Dean shakes his head, but at least Charlie is smiling.

“Not really.” Charlie admits and Dean whines pitifully at his brother. Sam sits down with them as well and gets himself some coffee that Dean made earlier. Dean isn’t sure what to do now, he got himself a new phone and tried to call Castiel, but as soon as Castiel heard it was him, he had hung up.

“I still don’t understand, why you exploded like that.” Sam says and Dean glares at him. Even though he knows it’s not his brother’s fault, Dean can’t help but be a bit angry. If he hadn’t asked such stupid questions, Dean would’ve never said that.

“I have still no idea what you did, but it must be awful, if Cas is not coming back.” Charlie says and Dean looks down to his hands. He feels ashamed and maybe he should just… start to make it right again. Maybe he should actually talk to Sam and Charlie about it.

“I… uhm Sam implied, that I’m in love with Castiel and I was rather… an asshole about it.” Dean admits and he can see how Charlie looks more disappointed with every word Dean says. Sam sighs loudly next to them and Dean kinda wants to glare at him again.

“Why?” Charlie asks and yeah that is exactly the right question.

“I… because I never allowed myself to fall for a guy.” Dean says in the end and Charlie smacks him across the chest. Dean whimpers at that and he can hear Sam chuckling. At least one of them has fun.

“Are you kidding me? You are so in love with Castiel, the whole world can see it.” Charlie says and Dean leans back. Sam nods when Dean glances back to him and his encouraging smile is back.

“I know.” Dean admits, just like that, and he doesn’t dare to look back up. It’s stupid, he knows that, because of course Charlie and Sam would always support him, but it’s the first time he said it out loud. It feels more terrifying than anything.

“Dean Winch… wait what?” Charlie asks and she seems so surprised at it. Dean glances up at her and smiles a bit shyly. Never thought he would see that day coming, where Charlie is actually speechless.

“I said that I’m actually aware that I’m in love.” Dean says and this time it comes out a bit stronger and louder than before. Sam snickers quietly and Dean has to chuckle himself. Actually it doesn’t feel so bad to say it.

“Finally.” Sam says and Dean turns back to his brother. Charlie still seems to need a few minutes to process that, while Sam plays happily on his phone, that is right in front of him on the table.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner, but I… really was ashamed. Not because it’s Cas, because everyone knows how awesome he is, but of myself.” Dean says and he gets matching frowns from Sam and Charlie.

“Why would you be ashamed of yourself?” Charlie asks and Dean has that bad feeling again. He almost curls into fetal position and looks down again.

“He is an angel, he deserves so much better than me and no matter how much I love him, it doesn’t…” Dean starts to say, but a sudden and very loud noise, lets him stop in the middle of his sentence.

“Dean.”

Dean turns around in his seat and there is Castiel in the middle of the room, looking at him. The angel looks half in pain and half angry and Dean is so surprised, he doesn’t know what to say. He wants to apologize and beg for forgiveness, but he remains silent.

“I feel like we should go.” Charlie says, when Castiel is still staring at Dean with his big and sad blue eyes. Dean swallows dryly and Charlie just gets up and leaves, probably going to the kitchen, so she can hear it all from there.

Sam gets up as well and just as he walk between Cas and Dean, he holds up his phone and presses a button. Dean’s eyes widen, when he realizes what just happened, because Castiel is still holding his own phone as well.

“I… can explain.” Dean stammers and Sam hurries out of the room as well. Oh he would so smack his brother for this later. How could he call Cas and let Dean ramble again about him without knowing?

“Yeah you better explain why you think you don’t deserve me.” Castiel says and he still sounds so angry. Dean feels embarrassed that Castiel had to hear that, but then he understands.

“Wait. That’s the problem?” Dean asks back and Castiel’s gaze softens. He tucks his phone away and actually kneels down in front of Dean, taking Dean’s hand in his own. Dean wants to pull away, but at the same time this is what he wanted.

“Of course that is the problem and that apparently you lied to Sam the first time you accidently called me. But I’m glad that it was only a lie.” Castiel says and he actually smiles. Dean feels a bit baffled, when he sees that smile, it’s always so rare.

“I love you.” Dean says and Castiel smiles even wider at that. Dean can feel himself starting to smile as well. He had always thought that Castiel would never want him back and what had that brought? He had almost lost Castiel.

“You are the biggest assbutt I know.” Castiel says as an answer and Dean’s breath hitches. He is still smiling, but he is also tearing up at the same time. His hands are shaking in Castiel’s and he watches how the angel gets up again.

“Cas, I’m so sorry. I never meant what I said. You aren’t strange or anything, you are wonderful and I’d be so happy to be yours and…” Dean stops again, when Castiel is standing again and puts a finger on Dean’s lips. When he is sure that Dean won’t talk again, he helps him up as well.

“Thank you for apologizing but I feel like I understand. Sam called me today and told me I needed to hear what you really had to say and I’m glad I did. Even though you got it all wrong, I do believe we deserve each other.” Castiel says and there is the smile again. Dean grabs Castiel’s trench coat and pulls him closer, Castiel’s hands already on either side of his face.

“Assbutt, huh?” Dean grins then, because he feels a little bit more confident now and when Castiel nods, he leans even closer, hoping that Castiel would get the hint and finally Castiel closes the gap between them and kisses Dean quiet.

The kiss is nothing spectacular, but Dean feels as if he just entered heaven. Castiel’s kiss is firm and Dean melts under his touch, so he opens his mouth immediately, when Castiel’s tongue catches his lower lip.

He isn’t sure how long they kiss, before Castiel takes a step back. Dean lingers a second longer and when he opens his eyes again, Castiel is still so close. Dean can’t help but look down to his pink lips again.

“My assbutt.” Castiel whispers then and his voice is almost hoarse. Dean laughs at that and then just hugs Castiel. His angel hugs him back just as tight and Dean sighs happily.

“I love you, too Dean. No matter how stupid you are.” Castiel says then and Dean just laughs into his shoulder. Maybe he should be offended but mostly he is just happy to have Castiel back.

“Never leave again.” Dean whispers back, Castiel promises.

“Seriously Dean?” Sam growls a few weeks later and Dean laughs loudly through the phone. Sam can imagine very good, how Dean and Castiel are sitting in Dean’s… no in their room together on the bed.

“Uh-oh did we call you accidently?” Dean asks and he is still laughing. Sam groans quietly and curses his brother inwardly. That was the third time this week he called Sam “accidently” only to say stupid stuff.

But this call is the worst one.

“Fuck Cas.” Dean groans and Sam hastily ends the call, before he throws his phone far away from him. Why is this his life?

#spndeanbingo #spndeanbingo2019 #destiel #destiel fanfic #my writing

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 4 years

Text

Rings

Title: Rings

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1957

Square Filled: Fake Marriage

Summary: “What happens when the right guy comes along, see’s that ring, and high tails it out here?” – “I never thought about that. I guess, if he’s the right one, he’d stick around long enough to find out that the ring is a fake.”

Warnings: Fluff, Dash of Angst, Douche Bags, Rifle, Threats, Drunk Guys, Gross Guys, Some Explicit Language, and Lying…

Written for @spndeanbingo

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

A/N: I am really proud of this fic. I feel like it’s not exactly what you’d expect from the Fake Marriage trope. At least, that’s what I think. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it! This last fic concludes my SPN Dean Bingo 2019 Card! I made it just in time!! Happy Reading!! xx

The day had been a total shit show, and all you wanted to do was to have a seat at a bar, have someone else make your drinks, and get hammered! Was that too much to ask? Apparently it was. You’d only been in the, over twenty-one, establishment for merely ten minutes and there had already been one guy that had the nerve to interrupt your “me time,” and now thirty minutes in, another dumbass was trying to talk you up.

“Hey there good lookin’. You seem a little stressed. Can I buy you another drink?”

“Sorry pal, I just want to be alone,” you told him, not bothering to give him a second glance (not that you gave him a first one.)

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be shy, let me just one drink?” He persisted.

“Seriously, I’m good right now,” you tried to remain calm.

“Alright, but if you change your mind, my friends and I are sitting by the juke box. Feel free to join us at any time,” he whispered, as if he thought he was being seductive. It was quite the opposite. His breath was rancid, and the stench coming off of him was just as criminal. You wondered how he could live with himself smelling like roadkill!

“Thanks,” was your only reply, letting out a heavy sigh when he left.

“Some guys just can’t take a hint,” the bartender tsked, her hands placed on the bar top in front of you. You looked up to meet the older lady looking past you, most likely at the group of guys that pig was hanging around with. “Mmm,” she hummed, a look of disgust in her face, “those fellas are one repulsive bunch aren’t they?”

A small smile cracked on your lips, glad that someone was on your side, not that anyone was against you to begin with, but still… this woman just made you feel a little better and you appreciated it.

“You didn’t smell him…” you murmured, slightly shaking your head side to side with trauma.

The older woman laughed. “The name is Ellen. I’m the owner of this bar.”

“I’m Y/N,” you introduced yourself.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you come in hear before,” the older woman stated. “And if you don’t mind me saying, you don’t look like the type to come into dive bars. What happened?”

Letting out a defeated sigh, you met her chocolate brown eyes. “Figured going to a bar was a thing to do when shit hits the fan and you just want to drink it all away. I mean, I see it happen all the time in the movies, so I thought… why not? There’s a first time for everything. The only thing that’s different is that the main character in the movies don’t have to deal with drunk gross guys. The girl usually meets that cool mysterious strangers in a suit or leather jacket.”

Ellen laughed at your perception on bars. “Sweetheart, real life ain’t like the movies. Real life actually sucks. So… I have to asked,” she started, “why are you here instead of with your man?”

You looked up at her confused. “Man?”

“The ring. Your husband,” Ellen clarified.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. “Oh… that.”

“Yeah, that. What’s the deal? You don’t seem very happy.”

“Honestly, I don’t have a husband. I got out of a nasty relationship a while back and have sworn off men for the time being,” you confessed. “This is fake ring I bought off of Amazon. I wear it to ward off guys, which apparently doesn’t work on idiots.”

“What happens when the right guy comes along, see’s that ring, and high tails it out here?” Ellen question, the notion not once crossing your mind.

“I never thought about that. I guess, if he’s the right one, he’d stick around long enough to find out that the ring is a fake,” you shrugged, hoping your answer made enough sense to her, and you.

“Well, I wish you good luck kiddo,” Ellen smiled before having to help another customer.

Through the night, you got to know more about Ellen and the bar. The bar had been her late husband’s dream, but he unfortunately passed before he could even begin to see it’s possibility. In tribute and remembrance of the love of her life, she bought the bar, fixed it up, threw their name in front of it, “Harvelle’s”, in blinking lights, and eventually it also became her dream. She and her daughter ran the joint, along with a few employees.

You were working on your third drink of the night, trading in your whiskey for a fruity cocktail drink this time – a strawberry daiquiri. Honestly. You were a little surprised that a small town dive bar had it on the menu, but you didn’t spend too much time thinking about it. You just wanted to enjoy the slight buzz you were feeling.

As you sipped your cocktail, a large figure planted themselves beside your left, but you didn’t bother to acknowledge their presence. All you hoped was that whoever it was, would leave you alone. The only company worthy of your attention was Ellen, your new found friend.

“Hi, what’s your name?”

You rolled your eyes at the interruption. “Sorry, I’m married,” you lifted your hand, exposing the evident ring on your finger.

“I don’t mind,” his hand closed over yours.

At that moment, you snapped, snatching your hand from his grasp and shooting him a death glare. “What kind of woman do you take me for?” You asked with offense. The man next to you was burly, with a beard like a homeless man, shirt wrinkled and most likely unwashed, and his hair was greasy. Why did you always attract the uncivilized ones?

“The kind of woman that likes to have fun,” he wiggled his eyebrows, eyes glinting with mischief.

“Please, just leave me alone,” you told him, bringing your attention back to your drink.

“Oh, c’mon. Let me show you a good time. You might be surprised at how much you’ll like it… and I know you’ll really like it,” he cooed, his tone over suggestive.

“Seriously, back—”

Before you could finish, another man showed up. “Didn’t you hear the woman say she’s married?” The new stranger hissed, slamming his left hand down on the bar top, a gold band around his ring finger. “Now, I suggest you back off of my wife before you get yourself hurt.”

You were shocked to say the least. This stranger was different than all the men you’ve come across the whole day. From your pig of a boss, to the scumbags littering the bar, this man was something else. He was dangerously handsome, scruff littering his jaw, emerald eyes hard and demanding, and god… he smelled good… and looked good. His expansive chest and shoulders clad in red plaid, which was definitely his color.

Wow.

“You think I’m afraid of you?” The disgusting man barked, standing to his full height. He was much larger than the handsome stranger, who didn’t seem to be scared at all. “You think a small fella like you can take me?”

It was true. The guy was much bigger than Mr. Smell’s so Delicious. He towered him several inches.

“I’ve taken down bigger,” Mr. Gorgeous Green Eyes scoffed unfazed.

The gross guy took a step forward and Sex God in Plaid didn’t flinch one bit. If you were being honest with yourself, you found yourself getting a little turned on.

“Alright, cut the crap,” Ellen came barreling in, a rifle in hand. “This is my bar and I will not condone to any sort of rough housing.” The asshole took a step back, but your Knight in Shining Armor didn’t seem at all worried. “You…” Ellen’s spoke to the creep, “… you and your buddies has harassed this poor girl long enough. Pay your bill and get out, before I shoot every single one of you between the legs. Her husband is here and she no longer needs your company.”

The beautiful stranger draped his arm over your shoulder protectively, staring down the creeper. “You heard the nice the lady, get out!” He growled.

The man didn’t hesitate to hightail it back to his group of friends. You watched as they quickly pulled out several bills before rushing out of the establishment. Your jaw dropped in surprise, thoroughly impressed at how both Ellen and Mysterious Perfection handled the situation.

“You alright?” the deepness of his voice vibrated through your body, causing heat to crawl up your cheeks.

“Uh.. y-yeah. I mean, yes. Thank you,” you offered a small smile. God, he was so handsome it almost made it hard to even look at him.

“Y/N, this is my nephew Dean. Dean this is my new friend Y/N. Take care of her for the night would’ya? She thinks life is supposed to be like those romantic comedy movies,” she teased, sending you a wink.

The action did nothing to settle your nerves or alleviate the tension raking over your body. In fact, she made it worse.

“A rom-com chick? Oh, no,” he laughed. “Should I be worried?”

The playful tone in his voice surprisingly put you at ease. “What’s wrong with rom-coms?” You scoffed, nudging his arm off your shoulder. “Don’t you have a wife you should be attending to?”

“A wife? Nah. I’m a free man, Y/N,” Dean gloated, taking a seat beside you. If he didn’t just save you from that douche, you would think he was an arrogant ass, but something about him told you that he was a genuinely good guy. Plus, if Ellen was entrusting him to take care of you, he must be a good man.

“Then what’s with the ring?”

Dean chuckled. “It belonged to my father. He passed away to cancer a few years back,” he confessed.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you suddenly became timid.

“He wasn’t the greatest father, but he did his best you know? Besides, if it wasn’t for him, me and my brother wouldn’t be the people we are today. Little brother is a lawyer and I’ve got my own chain of auto shops around the country.”

“Wow. Impressive.”

“I guess. All that matters is that I’m pretty happy, you know? Anyways, what’s your story? Where’s your husband?”

This time, it was your turn to laugh. “Not married either. I swore of men a couple of years ago after I was humiliatingly dumped from my ex-fiancé. He cheated on me with his boss. When I called our relationship off, he took the ring and everything else. All he left me was my car and what ever was left of my dignity… which let me tell you, isn’t much.”

“Fuck. That’s harsh. What a douche bag!”

“Tell me about it,” you puffed out in defeat.

“Ah, screw him. You deserve better anyway. A tough girl like you don’t need a weak man like him.”

“Oh yeah? And what kind of man do I deserve?” you taunted, giving him your full attention.

A sly smirk stretched across his face. “Let me take you out tomorrow and I’ll show you.”

“Smooth,” you giggled, and Dean was laughing too.

“I’m serious. Let me take you out. You won’t regret it.”

You looked up at him with a wide smile on your face. “I have the utmost confidence that I won’t.”

Dean grinned. “Looks like we got ourselves a hot date!”

Again, you couldn’t control the laughter bubbling inside of you. He was a dork and you found it being far more attractive than you expected. You were looking forwards to that date.

Looks like it was time for the ring to come off.

A/N: My SPN Dean Bingo 2019 Card is officially complete! YAY! I hope you all liked the fics, and I hope you liked this last installment! If you did, please like and reblog! Leave some feedback! I would really appreciate it! Stay beautiful everyone! xx

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 4 years

Text

My Girl

Title: My Girl

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1600

Square Filled: Childhood Friends

Summary: There are rumors going around the neighborhood that Dean was coming back home to Lawrence for a visit. Needing clarification of said rumors, you made your way to the Winchester house. When you arrived, your question was quickly answered and then some.

Warnings: Fluff, Eavesdropping, Angst if you squint, and just really cheesy stuff (that I can’t get enough of.)

Written for @spndeanbingo

Disclaimer: Not my gif, and all mistakes are mine!

A/N: I don’t know why this one was so hard to write! It was so weird, but I’ve done it and I tried my best to make this super fluffy because I wanted to. All my other trials were really angsty and dark and I just couldn’t stand it. Anyways, I hope you like your fics super cheesy, because that’s what you’re getting. Cheese with an extra side of more cheese! Hahaha. Happy Reading!

There were rumors going around town that Dean was coming back to Lawrence for a visit. Wanting answers, you headed to the Winchester household on your day off, but definitely not empty handed. Out of the goodness of your heart, you also decided to bring over a homemade cherry pie, fresh out the oven. Also, you specifically remember John saying, at church, how much he’s been craving one. What better way to kill two birds with one stone?

You stepped up to the front door, hitting your knuckles against the painted wood. After taking a step back, it took a few seconds before the door opened.

“Surprise, I made cherry pie—” You chirped, raising the pie in front of you. but lost your voice as you saw Dean standing in front of you. “Dean!” You screamed with excitement, jumping into his arms, nearly dropping the pie, but thankfully Mary was near enough to catch it in time.

The older woman laughed as she watched you and her son greet each other. Dean chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and hoisting you into the air, causing you to kick your feet up. The question you came to ask had instantly been answered and you were ecstatic.

“Looks like I surprised you more than you surprised us, huh?” he laughed.

“I was actually coming here to drop off the pie and ask your mom if the rumors of you coming home was true and then, bam! There you are! It totally caught me off guard.”

“Good morning to you too,” Mary tried to feign hurt, but failed through her giggles.

“Oh! I’m so sorry, Mary. Good morning! And I also made you guys a cherry pie. I remember John saying he’s been craving one lately, so I took it upon myself to grant wishes,” you joked.

“Oh… with Dean here, I’m not sure this pie will make it in time for John to even try it,” Mary joked back.

After the brief greeting at the door, Mary ushered you into the house, navigating you to the living room. She observed the way you nearly ran into the corner of the small table by the entrance, how you almost ran into the wall, and how you barely made it on the couch, all because you couldn’t take your eyes off of her eldest son.

The whole scene reminded her of back when you, Dean, and Sam were little. She remembered how you’d always try to gain Dean’s attention. You were so infatuated with him, always wanting to play with him, sit next to him, just over all be around him. They way you looked up to him always made Mary’s heart melt. She thought it was the most precious thing in the world. She still did.

“Well, you kids talk and relax, I’m going to put this delicious looking pie in the kitchen to cool.” After watching Mary disappear into the kitchen, you turned to look at Dean finding him still smiling at you. You returned the gesture before going on with your questions.

“When did you get here?” You asked.

“Last night,” he admitted.

“Why are you here? How long are you staying? Want to go out for lunch later?” you spitfire.

“Whoa,” Dean laughed. “I’m here because I just needed some time to get away, to clear my head. Honestly, I just broke up with my girlfriend.”

His confession caught you off guard. You didn’t know he even had a girlfriend. Dean noticed the change in your demeanor, the light in your eyes no longer there. You moved back, giving Dean a little space, space that Dean didn’t didn’t want.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you mumbled. “Maybe I should leave so you can have that time alone you came here for.”

When you went to stand up and leave, Dean grabbed onto your wrist. “Y/N, wait.” You stopped, looking back at Dean. His evergreen eyes pleading you to stay. Unable to resist, you sat back down.

“Fine. Look… to be completely honest with you, I’m not sad. I was the one that broke up with her.”

You gave him a curious look. “Why?” you thought out loud.

“Because… I found an old picture of us.” That peaked your interest. You wondered how a picture of you and him would have anything to do with him breaking up with his girlfriend.

“What does that have to do with me? Are you saying that it’s my fault the two of you broke up? I mean, I wasn’t even there. I didn’t do anything…” You were almost offended.

“No. No, that’s not what I’m saying. All I’m saying is that when I found the picture it made me smile. It brought a light into me that I haven’t felt in a long time, not since I left Lawrence. The only time I felt that light was when I was here, and that’s when I realized that the light was you. It was being close to you. It never dawned on me till I found this picture. Like everything just made sense. I saw the photo, and… I don’t know. I missed you.”

You were not expecting such an explanation. Dean practically confessed that he was in love with you… right? Maybe you’re just being delusional because you were so in love with him that your mind is being stupid and misinterpreting everything he said.

“Wait, what?” was the first thing that came out of your mouth.

Dean chuckled breathily. “Stop over thinking. Yeah, I’m telling you I’m in love with you,” he blurted.

Without the two of you knowing, Mary was hiding behind the wall right beside the kitchen entrance listening to the whole conversation. Her lips were stretched in a wide grin, ecstatic from what she was hearing. It was her dream when you and Dean were younger. She would always talk about how one day the two of you would end up together.

Suddenly, she heard a car pull into the driveway, she did a little hop, while silently clapping her hands before heading outside to greet her husband. As she stepped out, John opened his mouth. “Hey baby, Y/N here—”

“Shh!” Mary hushed. “John it’s happening!” She squealed.

“What’s happening?” John asked confused.

“Dean and Y/N!”

“Mary, not this again,” John groaned.

“No, really! It is! Come here, come in!” Mary dragged him into the house, motioning him to remain quiet.

When John peeked over the wall, Dean was cupping your cheek, pulling you closer and closer until…

“How… when…” you didn’t know what to think at that point. You couldn’t believe that Dean had actually told you he was in love with you. In all honesty, you’ve daydreamed about all the ways he’d confess his love to you one day, but you never thought it would ever happen. The two of you were childhood friends and he’s never given you a second look before and now… “what?”

Dean laughed again. “Listen to me carefully,” Dean said, cupping your cheeks and bringing you closer so that you were only looking at him, although he didn’t need to because all you could do was look at him.

“Okay,” you breathed.

“Y/N…” you nodded, “I, Dean Winchester, am in love with you.”

And suddenly, your lips were pressed against his. Your eyes shut with content, enjoying the feel of his slightly chapped lips slanting over your soft ones. When Dean pulled away, much to your reluctance, he cracked a smile when he heard you growl in protest, your beautiful eyes still closed.

“You good?” He asked.

“I was,” you fluttered your eyes open, looking up at him through your lashes, “until you pulled away.”

Dean couldn’t help but throw his head back and laugh. “That’s my girl,” he cooed, pulling you into a hug.

John felt soft jabs to his arm. When he turned, Mary was punching him, doing a little happy dance. John chuckled at his wife’s excitement. “That’s my girl,” John mimic Dean’s words. “Now c’mon. Let’s leave these kids alone.”

“I bet my mom will be happy,” Dean whispered, slightly pulling away so he could rest his forehead against yours.

“Why?”

“Seriously?” Dean pulled away further, looking at you like you grew an extra head. “She’s been wanting us to get together ever since we were little.”

“Really? I never noticed,” you frowned.

Dean only laughed at your reaction, pulling you in again for another kiss. “Always oblivious,” he whispered.

You scoffed and punched Dean in the stomach just hard enough to surprise him. He grunted while he laughed. “That’s my girl.”

A/N: I told you it was just a bunch of cheesy fluff! LOL! I hope you liked it!! Please leave some feedback and reblog to help me get my fic seen by more friends! I thank you in advance, and I also hope you all are doing okay! xx

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 4 years

Text

The Lucky Ones

Title: The Lucky Ones

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Drabble AU

Word Count: 584

Square Filled: Soulmates AU

Summary: In a world where finding a soulmate has become extremely rare, Dean and Y/N are lucky to have found each other.

Warnings: Fluff

Written for @spndeanbingo

A/N: Just some short and sweet fluff :) Positive feedback and reblogs are appreciated!

Disclaimer: Not my gif. All mistakes are mine.

Music was playing softly in the kitchen as Dean walked in. He stopped for a few seconds to admire the woman standing at counter, preparing lunch. An adoring smile made its way to his lips as he walked forwards and wrapped his arms around her waist, her back pressed to his chest, and temple resting against his chin. The two of them slowly swayed to the music, relishing in the peace.

He could smell her scent, the aroma only increasing the content feeling in his chest. Her soft skin against his only added to the warmth in his heart. The sound of her humming soothed his restless mind. And her as a whole let him know that he was home. It was all very sappy, but all very real.

Dean slipped an arm from around her waist and from under her hand as he glided his rough finders to her wrist, flipping her hand palm up. He heard her let out a soft breath as he caressed his thumb over the similar mark embedded on his own wrist.

He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have been able to find her – to find his soulmate. Years ago, the notion of soulmates had only been a myth, a legend, but here he was, one of the lucky ones. Out of all the billions of people in the world, with oceans splitting them apart, he had managed to find his. His parents weren’t soulmates, his grandparents weren’t soulmates, everyone else he had known that was married weren’t soulmates. Even with Y/N, her parent’s weren’t soulmates, in fact, they ended up having a divorce, which had become an epidemic.

“Never in my life had I ever thought that I’d actually meet my soulmate,” Dean whispered. “I can’t even begin to explain to everyone how I feel. Even six years later, two babies playing in the next room, I still can’t form any words.”

A small smiled spread on Y/N’s lips, knowing exactly what he was talking about. She also thought that she would never find her soulmate. The world was changing, people were constantly moving, disappearing, and the population was only getting bigger. To find a soulmate has somewhat become something like finding a needle in a hay stack… damn near impossible. But, as if God willed it, Y/N and Dean had managed to find each other. All they had to do was meet once, and the identical mark on their wrists would appear, and the feelings they felt… the feelings she felt… If Y/N had to explain it, she’d probably say it was perfect, but it was more than that. The feeling of being whole was indescribable, so much better than perfect.

“We’re the lucky ones,” Y/N cooed softly, her eyes slipping shut.

“A coupla lucky son’s a bitches,” he chuckled, Y/N following along.

“Be careful what you say, Sweetheart, there are always ears listening,” Y/N warned.

As if on cue, two rambunctious children came running into the kitchen. “Daddy said a bad word! Momma!” Shouted their five-year old boy, mop of dirty blond hair covering his green eyes.

“Daddy needs a time out,” Y/N stated, pulling away from Dean to scoop up her son.

“Time out, time out!” Their three-year old chanted, pointing at Dean, thick dark locks falling out of her ponytail (haphazardly done by her father).

“Alright, alright,” Dean took her into his arms. “Daddy knows the rules,” Dean laughed.

“The lucky ones,” Y/N whispered to herself, smiling at her little family.

A/N: Yeah, I know it was a short one, but none the less, I hope you enjoyed it. Please reblog and leave feedback. I would really appreciate it! Thanks for reading! xx

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 4 years

Text

A Demon’s Trap

Title: A Demon’s Trap

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1156

Square Filled: Crowley

Summary: You seek protection from Crowley, who seemed to want the same thing you and Sam did – to turn Dean back into a human, but you come to find out, you can never trust a demon, much less the King of Hell.

Warning: SMUT, Fingering, Forced Orgasms, Squirting, Oral (Male Receiving), Overall Dark Themes (because Dean’s a demon, and so is Crowley).

Written for @spndeanbingo

A/N: This is based off of a video I happened to stumble upon on Tumblr, and let me tell you… it was fucking HOT! Don’t ask for the link because it’s long gone and I wouldn’t even know where to begin to find it for those select naughty girls. Lol. Happy Reading! And remember, 18+ ONLY!

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

You didn’t know how Dean found you. Crowley had given his word to protect you if you and Sam promised to cure Dean. Apparently, Dean and a demon is more troublesome than Dean as a human. Crowley’s protection was supposed to be secure, and yet here you were, trapped in some godforsaken room with the one man you were trying to hide from. Not to mention he had you bare and completely at his mercy.

The days had gone by and you’ve already lost count. It was hard to focus when all Dean’s done was force orgasm after orgasm out of you, until you’d passed out. Luckily, he’d give you some time to recover, to hydrate, and eat. At least he understood that you were still human.

Today, he had you squatting on the floor stark naked, back pressed against the couch with your bent legs spread wide open, exposing your smooth cunt. Dean admired the position, eyes resting longer over your breasts than you sweet pussy. He groaned in approval, liking his lips predatorily.

Just by the way he looked at you had your chest heaving with anticipation, your drenched pussy craving anything and everything he had to offer. As much as you hated being with him at first, begged him to stop, the pleasure eventually took over and all your body did was desire his touch. Desire him.

A loud moan escaped you as he bent over and used his calloused hand to slowly caress your hairless pussy, smearing your arousal through your folds and clit. You reveled in the feel of his touch, another string of whimpers slipping passed your lips as he sank two thick fingers into you, pumping slowly, grazing over all the parts of you that made your body sing. “Yes, yes,” you chanted, “slowly, please. Just like that.” Your pussy was raw and sensitive from the onslaught he’d given you yesterday and all the days before that. The gentle touch was exactly what you needed. It was enough to get the heat rising deep inside you.

With out warning, Dean curled his digits and your eyes rolled back before snapping shut at the sensation, but Dean demanded you to look at him. You dared not refuse his commands less you wanted to be punished. When your eyes opened, they were met with carbon eyes, and a wicked smirk. “You don’t tell me what to do, Sweetheart.”

He started to pump his hand violently, the obscene squelching sound of your wetness echoing through the room, and not even five seconds later, heat exploded through your body and you were coming hard, screaming as you squirted against his fingers like a fountain, your juices pooling on the floor below you as he retracted his fingers in favor to rub your pulsing pussy, his hand running over your clit to prolong your release. Immediately after he stuck his fingers in you again, curling them as he pummeled viciously, eliciting another orgasm, your pussy squirting once again while he rubbed your clit. Not bothering to wait, his fingers delved into your heat a third time, his fingers curled as he pumped inside you, watching as you continued to squirt. You tried to push his hand away, clawing against his arm, but you were too strung out in bliss to find any sort of strength. Your legs shook, and your tried to shut your thighs, but it was impossible.

“Fuck,” Dean grunted, pleased at how much and how strong he could make you come. He shoved his fingers in you again, relishing in the sounds of your desperation, and how your body tried to get away from his, but he wasn’t going to let that happen. Hell no. You barely lasted a second before you were coming again, your body twitching, knees flying open and closed through your release. Again he made his way inside you, and you came apart, your body twitching as your ass finally hit the floor, you sitting in your own puddle of arousal.

Burring his hand in your hair, he pulled you back up onto your original squatting position so that you were no longer sitting on the ground. Again, he shoved his finger in your sopping cunt, curled and pumping, and you looked at him with pure hopelessness, begging him to stop. Telling him that you couldn’t come again. That it was impossible, but he kept going and in record time, your pussy was convulsing around his appendages all over again, leaking and adding more of your juices on the floor.

Dean finally pulled his hands away, only to grip onto your head and shove his cock passed your swollen lips. You sucked him off eagerly to thank him for the short break from the abuse he was reeking on your overly sensitive cunt, but then Dean tangled one of his hands in your hair, taking control of your movements and shoved himself as far down as he could in your throat. It had you going dizzy. He did it over and over again, the tip of his cock hitting it’s limit every time.

While you sucked his cock, Dean maneuvered you onto your knees so your chest was resting on the couch. Dean bent over at his waist and buried his fingers inside you again, pumping you from behind. The sensation took your lips away from his cock as you moaned over and over again, trying your best to at least pump his shaft, but you were finding it way too difficult, and in no time at all, you were coming around his hand again, your entire upper body now resting on the couch for support, as your thighs quivered, the flesh rippling.

Dean pushed down on your back, your chest flush against the leather while he moved to stand behind you, spreading his legs on either side of your hips and bending down to shove his dick in your used hole. You screamed as he entered you, his cock filling you up. He hammered down on your pussy, conjuring a chorus of incoherent words to pass your lips.

He was huge. Never had you felt so full… and never had you been so used. His fingers were magic, and his cock was supernatural, hitting places you never knew existed, and making your body thrum like a violin.

“Oh god, I’m coming,” you managed to say, and Dean pulled out, your pussy clenching around nothing as your legs shook. He smacked your ass before, once again, shoving his fingers deep inside you. Pumping, he managed to get one last orgasm from you before your body went limp against the couch and on the floor.

“I’m glad Crowley was able to find me my favorite toy,” Dean chuckled, leaving you there completely spent. That’s when it hit you, Crowley never meant to protect you. From the very beginning, this whole thing had been a trap. A demon’s trap.

A/N: I hope you liked it. I’d appreciate a little feedback and a reblog, just to get my fic circulating :) Thanks again for reading! xx

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 5 years

Text

Winner

Title: Winner

Pairing: Dean x Reader (Platonic-ish)

Word Count: 1586

Square Filled: Beer

Summary: Playing cards with friends is one thing. Playing cards with ONLY Dean Winchester is a whole different thing, especially when one of his favorite card games happen to be strip poker. Mix that in with a little beer and nudity, and you have yourself one very entertaining night!

Warning: 18+ ONLY BLOG!

Written for: @spndeanbingo

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

A/N: This was inspired by @covered-byroses’ fic, Poker Night. It’s so good, and you should definitely give it a read! In fact, read all her stuff. It’s all amazing! For my fic, the theme is similar, a line is similar (prompt), but everything is still completely different. I’ve talked to her and asked for permission, also gave her the opportunity to check it out first to see if it was okay, and she gave me the pass! So I’m glad about that. Anyways, read mine then read hers, or vice versa. You won’t regret giving her fic a read! I PROMISE! Happy Reading!

It was that kind of night. Beer and a little poker.

There were empty beer bottles littered atop the war table and it had been hours since Sam had gone to bed, but you and Dean were too competitive to stop now. You were determined to win back your lot, and Dean was just having too much fun taking all your money and giving up all of his chores.

“Three aces,” you displayed your cards on the table, confident in your hand as you took a sip of your beer.

You noticed Dean’s lips tighten, knowing that was a tick of his when he knows he’s lost, but suddenly that twitch turned into the smallest of smirks and you knew you were done. Before he could even show you his cards, you were already groaning in defeat.

“Read it and weep it!” He sang, snagging your beer from in front of you and taking a sip. You and the Winchester’s were best friends, so sharing wasn’t uncommon. In fact, you almost shared everything other than your clothes, toothbrush, and Dean’s pie. When it came to pie, it was always off limits.

“This is bullshit!” You whined, taking back your drink before falling back on your seat and sinking into it a little. “You’ve got to be cheating!” You pouted as you drank the rest of it.

“Sweetheart… I don’t cheat. I’m just that good,” he smirked. “Anyways… baby needs an oil change tomorrow,” he grinned, wiggling his eyebrows.

“You’re ruthless! First I have to clean the bathroom, dust the archives room, make dinner for a month, do your nasty laundry for a week, and now change Baby’s oil?” Dean couldn’t help but grin at your use of his precious car’s name. “Why couldn’t you come up with something like, a foot massage, or I get the couch on the next hunt? You know something not so laborious. Something simple! Why couldn’t I just buy you a pack of beer?”

“Fine, how about this,” Dean started, “if you can beat me in the next game, I will trade all of the chores in for that foot massage… but if I win, then we play another round however… we’re playing strip poker.” He winked, sending heat to surface all over you body. “Unless you’re too chicken?”

It was lame and immature to be provoked by something as childish as being called a chicken, but you were so adamant on getting your life back that you were willing to do anything. You’ve beaten Dean a handful of times, so it wasn’t impossible. You just hoped that God was on your side for once.

“Game on, Winchester!”

“Atta girl!” He cheered, rubbing his hands together before scooping up the cards and shuffling them several times. When he felt they were properly mixed, he let you cut the deck.

Dean grinned at you the whole time he dealt the cards. You returned his stare with a hard glare of determination. You were going to win this round. You had to win this round other wise, you’d have to do all those chores! And you knew that when it came to that damn Impala, Dean would be breathing down your neck, complaining and constantly telling you how to change the oil in his car, which was incredibly infuriating. You knew how to change oil! You knew how to fully service a car, yet he still insisted on going on and on how to do it. The last time, you threw a wrench at him!

As you rearranged your cards in your hands, you thanked the heavens for the possibility that they were on your side and that you could actually win this. “Full house!” You spread your cards on the table.

“Ooh, damn! Shit, all I got was a… four of a kind!” He cooed, doing a little awkward dance with his arms and hands.

“What?!” You gawked. “Ugh!”

“So… ready for some strip poker?” He teased, his stupid cocky grin plastered across his face.

“I need another beer. No I need two beers. Actually, I need to be shit-faced for this,” you mumbled, getting out of your seat and into the kitchen. You came back out with a full pack to share with your opponent.

The game, like most of all the previous games, was not turning out for you. At this point, you were feeling a slight buzz from the bitter drink. Dean was left in a white shirt and his jeans, while you were down to your crop top shirt and panties, currently wishing you had worn more layers.

This time you dealt the cards, making sure you shuffled the them well enough that Dean wouldn’t be able to get a decent hand. You watched as his face remained stoic. When you saw your cards, you literally had nothing. All you had was one Queen of Spades.

“Alright, shoot,” you told him, anxious to see what his hand was.

“Ladies first.”

“How about we reveal it together?” You bargained.

“Okay. Let’s do this. We’ll both show our cards on three,” Dean suggested.

“Fine,” you agreed.

“One. Two… Three!”

You and Dean counted in unison and then flipped your cards at the exact same time. “Highest card!” The two of you shouted in unison. Scanning over your cards, you noticed that he had beaten you by a higher card. The damn guy had a fucking King of hearts!

“Are you kidding me!” You shouted while Dean laughed, pumping his fists in the air and stomping his feet.

“Go on. Take something off! Take off the shirt!” He chuckled.

You tanked the rest of your beer for some sort of relief, comfort, or maybe some ample amount of confidence, but when nothing changed, you cringed. “I can’t,” you mumbled, wrapping your arms around your chest.

“Oh c’mon. It’s just a bra. I’ve seen you in your bra before,” Dean confessed.

Your eyes widened as you stared at the man incredulously. “When?” You demanded to know.

“Uh… that’s not important. Now, are you gonna take off an article of clothing or are you admitting defeat right here and now? Because if you are, I’d like to throw in a foot massage in addition to everything else.” He taunted, knowing how easily you got riled up. Your competitiveness was too easy to manipulate.

“I don’t have a bra on,” you mumbled, cheeks flaring up.

“What?” Dean asked, unable to understand you clearly.

“I don’t have a bra on!” You annunciated every words a little louder, embarrassed and irritated that you had to say it again. Dean’s forest-green eyes widened as they subconsciously fell to your covered chest. “Dean!” You scolded, shielding your arms over your breasts.

Shaking his head to rid his lewd thoughts, his eyes caught yours again. “How about this; if you show me yours, I’ll show you mine?” he grinned. “But then again, if you’re too chicken, I get it. Not everyone got big enough balls to play and finish strip poker.”

You glared at the green-eyed hunter, snatching the rest of his beer and swallowing it all down. “Bite me, you prick!” Your snarky comment made him chuckle, but his eyes never once left your form. He knew he could get you to do it and without him knowing, you actually kind of wanted to. You wanted him to look at you, drool over you. You wanted him to remember this moment; have it etched into his memory so that he could tuck it away and think about it later, during those lonely, frustrating, nights.

Slowly, you reached for the bottom hem of your shirt, taking a deep breath as you lifted it up. Dean’s mouth went dry, his eyes soaking up every inch of skin that was being revealed to him. He was about to see you topless, which made you both nervous in different ways.

Once the shirt slipped passed your head, hair falling from the neck hole, you noticed the way Dean just stared. He didn’t try to be modest about it. He just stared, mouth slightly hanging open before he licked his lips.

“Now those are nice,” he complimented, his eyes fluttering up to meet yours before winking. “Think I can take a picture for later?” he teased.

“Dean!” You chide, wrapping your arms around your twin mounds. “I thought the deal was if I showed you mine; you’d show me yours. Now get on with it!”

Dean chuckled, lifting his hands up in defense. “Alright, alright! I’ll show you mine. A deal is a deal. But first close your eyes,” he instructed.

“Dean…”

“Just close your eyes. So I’m a little shy, shoot me.” You rolled your eyes before closing them, missing the smile on Dean’s lips. Dean wasn’t shy at all. Seconds later, Dean spoke. “Okay, open your eyes.”

You opened your eyes to see Dean lifting his shirt up over his chest. “What?” You questioned, thoroughly confused.

“You showed me your chest so now I’m showing you mine,” he sputtered, leading into a thunderous roar of laughter.

“DEAN!” You shouted, grabbing your shirt and hitting him with it, while keeping your other arm around your breasts. “You’re an idiot! That’s not how this works! Take off your pants! Take off your pants!”

Dean couldn’t help but let his full body laughter take control. There was no way he would be forgetting this night. And there was no way in hell he’d ever let you live this down. Dean was a winner!

Liked it? Please reblog and share it with others! Feedback would be greatly appreciated! It’s a writer’s fuel! xx

Say Something Nice Here!

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 4 years

Text

Sore Loser

Title: Sore Loser

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Word Count: 870

Square Filled: Hustling Pool

Summary: Y/N learns a few new tricks and hustles Dean, the king of pool, out of all his money.

Warning: Fluff, Gambling (is hustling money considered gambling?), Some Crack, Dean being Petty.

Written for @spndeanbingo

A/N: Here’s another short fic, but I still hope you’ll enjoy the read! Thank you all for reading my stuff! I truly enjoy reading all the feedbacks y’all give! It literally puts a smile on my face! Also, thank you to those who has been reblogging! Reblogging is really the only way to get your fic out there and noticed, so thanks to those helping a sister out! I appreciate it! I appreciate all of you!! xx

Disclaimer: Not my gifs

Dean watched as you counted the money in your hands. Cash that once belonged to him. There was no doubt about it, he had been hustled! But how?! Since when did you get so good at pool? Since when could you ever beat him? Sure, you warned him that you’d been practicing, and that you’d gotten better, but you had lost the first three rounds!

A sigh left his lips in realization. He should have seen the signs. The first three games were to bait him in, playing enough failed rounds to give him false confidence, feeding into his arrogance that he forgot to stay focused. Then the fourth game came and he should have known something was up when you told him to “double or nothing!” He’d been played like a sucker.

“When did you get so good?” Dean mumbled behind you, lips drooping into a pout.

“Sammy taught me,” you giggled, fanning the cash on your neck. Dean was still confused. Even if Sam taught you how to play, Sam could never beat him at pool. “He even told me, because I’m a woman, to use what I got as a distraction,” you turned your head, your chin resting on your shoulder, and winked at him.

Dean’s jaw dropped, his mind feverously recounting all the times he’d missed a shot because he had been staring at your cleavage, ass, mid drift, or even the way you’d gnaw on your bottom lip, looking all worried that you were going to lose.

Dammit.

“I see…” Dean gritted, not at all liking that he’d just been one upped by you, and seond-handedly by Sam as well.

“How about I buy you a drink?” You tease as you reached the bar, Ellen smirking at the pair of you.

“Dean Winchester, I am disappointed in you,” Ellen chuckled, already getting two drinks ready. “You fell for every trick in the book,” she clicked her tongue.

“Yeah, yeah,” he huffed, grabbing his glass before shooting the amber liquid down his throat in one go.

“And Y/N, you’ve done all of us women proud. Playing dirty like the rest of them apes.”

“Thank you!” you lifted your class high in the air before taking a sip. You winced as the alcohol burned your throat.

After a few drinks, you and Dean returned to the motel sober. As you entered, you noticed Sam quickly perk up in his seat and shut his laptop. His face went red when you and Dean just stared at him accusingly.

“Porn? Really Sam?” You deadpanned. “That’s why you wanted to ditch us?”

“I—I wasn’t looking at porn,” he lied miserably. “Anyways, how was the bar?”

“Totally suckered Dean out of two hundred bucks!” you boasted, proud of your earnings.

“You played dirty. At least when I hustle people, it’s because I’m damn good! You? You practically cheated.”

Sam chuckled at his brother’s whining. “C’mon Dean, don’t be such a sore loser.”

“I am not a sore loser! All I’m saying is that she didn’t play fair!” He grumbled.

“Sounds like a sore loser to me,” you shrugged, joining in on the taunting.

“You know what,” Dean’s gaze landed on you, “just for that, you can share a bed with Sammy!” Dean spat, knowing very well that you preferred to sleep with him, not that he minded.

“What? No! Sammy hogs all the blanket!” You complained, stomping your right foot on the ground in a small tantrum.

“Hey! No I don’t. I’m just a lot bigger than you are, so I end up using most of the blanket.” Sam tried to defend himself.

“Too bad, Y/N. You’re bunking with Sam tonight.”

Some time in the middle of the night, Sam had stolen all the blankets, as usual, and you were now curled up in a ball, shivering. You watched Dean, with an exaggerated pout on your lips, snooze soundly, not at all feeling guilty for making you sleep with Sam. Unlike Sam, Dean didn’t hog all the blanket. In fact, the big bad hunter was a cuddler, which you loved. Being in his arms was like hugging a heated pillow. It felt good. He felt good.

Sitting up, you looked over at Sam, sleeping like a baby while clutching the blanket around him. “Hog,” you whispered sourly, before getting out of bed and sneaking over to Dean’s. With a frown on your quivering lips, you climbed into bed with him, not caring if he tried to kick you out.

Dean stirred as he felt the dip on the bed, his evergreen eyes fluttering open. He watched as you settled into his side, and to your surprise, Dean opened his arms to you. In an instant, your body was flush against his, his warmth immediately sinking to your bones.

A sigh of relief escaped your lips and contentment donned on your face. “Better?” Dean asked groggily, his voice thick from sleep.

“Much better,” you replied, cozying up to his chest.

You couldn’t see it in the darkness, but Dean smiled in content as well, having missed you cuddling up to him. It just didn’t feel right without you by his side, despite the fact that you were a cheater at pool.

A/N: If you liked it, don’t forget to reblog and leave some feedback! Even one gif can make me laugh or make my heart full! So please, don’t be afraid to express what you thought! Thanks for reading! xx

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squirrel-moose-winchester · 4 years

Text

Hope in a Dark Place

Title: Hope in a Dark Place

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1861

Square Filled: Purgatory

Summary: Stuck in Purgatory, you manage, with help from Dean, to find hope in a dark, hopeless, place.

Warnings: SMUT, Slight Angst, maybe a dash of Fluff?

Written for @spndeanbingo

A/N: I struggled with trying to write something for my Purgatory square, but I managed to do it. I really hope you guys like it.

Disclaimer: Not my gif.

You were exhausted, yet someone how, you still had the energy and the will to keep on going. Here, there was no trace of hope. The door back to the living world had vanished somehow, and escape had become futile. No where was safe. Even if you thought you were, the reality deemed otherwise. There was always something lurking around the corner or trudging not far behind. If you stopped, you were automatically a dead man – or rather, a dead woman.

Your back slammed against the trunk of an old rotting tree, your chest heaving violently trying to catch your breath. It almost felt impossible, as if no matter how deep your intake, it just wasn’t enough to sate your primal need.

When the Leviathans came, you and the others were forced to split up, and now… you were all alone. You and the rest of the group found out quickly that traveling in a pack was the most effective way for safety, but it seemed that the Leviathan’s also picked up on it, finding their own ways to separate your little group.

“Dammit,” you hissed, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat on your forehead before swiping your cheek where more sweat ran down. Your eyes shifted side to side, hoping to catch wind of someone from your pack, also patrolling to make sure that an enemy wasn’t on your track. You wondered if they were safe, if the others were together, if they were looking for you. They wouldn’t leave you, would they? No. Dean wouldn’t allow it; no matter how much Purgatory had changed him. Deep down, you believed that the old Dean was somewhere hidden under all the muck of purgatory.

A snap of a stick sounded from behind you and your body instantly stiffened, both of your hands clenching around the handles of your makeshift weapons, a two swords made out of the ribs of a wendigo, sharpened by stone. As the footsteps approached closer, you jumped out with your blades raised in a cross, but your attempt in attack was blocked by Dean’s axe.

“Dean!” you gasped, lowering your weapon, sheathing them back into their case around your back.

“Hey,” he greeted, “you okay?”

“Yeah, where are the others?”

“You’re the first I found,” he admitted, twisting at the waist to check behind him.

Suddenly, the sky opened up in a heavy down pour. Dean grabbed your hand and lead the way to find shelter. Being out in the open was dangerous during a storm. All scenes were practically useless. Sight hindered by the rain, smell overshadowed by the wetness, and hearing was flooded by the pelting raindrops. It was during weather like this that everyone had become easy pray.

Dean managed to find a little alcove in the roots of an enormous tree. He tugged you inside, settling you onto his lap considering there wasn’t much space. You leaned up against him, back flush against his chest, and you could feel the drastic rise and fall of his breathing. You weren’t any better, once again trying to catch your breath after managing to keep up.

You aren’t sure how long the two of you were waiting, but the rain didn’t seem to be letting up any time soon. Gazing out into the nothingness, you were suddenly interrupted by the feel of Dean’s hands stroking your thighs. Your breath hitched in your throat as your body went rigid with surprise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You whispered, voice a little breathless. It’s been so long since Dean’s touched you, and much longer since you’ve hand anything other than his or your fingers between your legs.

“Taking my chances before the storm passes,” he replied. “looks like we might have some time.”

“Dean,” you said breathlessly, basking in the way his hands pressed against your clothed core before traveling upwards, his fingers playing with the button of your jeans. A gasp escaped your lips when his hand finally popped the button open. Anticipation coursed through your veins, stirring nothing but want, need, and desperation.

It was as if time stood still and all you could focus on was the way Dean’s rough hand slipped into your jeans and underwear. You bit your bottom lip, dropping your head onto Dean’s shoulder, already weak from his touch. It wasn’t much, and he hasn’t even touched your most sacred parts of you yet, and still… you were hopeless. Completely at his mercy.

“It’s been a while,” Dean whispered, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you.

“Please,” was all you managed to get out. It’s been too long and you could barely wait any longer. “Need you.”

A deep groan made its way from Dean’s throat. The sound of your pleas were only amplifying his need for you and diminishing his will for control. If the circumstances were different, and there were more time and space, he’d indulge himself with you in more ways than one. He’d make you come on his tongue, bring you to the brink of release before stopping his ministrations. He’d do it over and over until you were so strung out, all he’d have to do was fill you up with his cock and watch you unravel before him. Then he’d force another orgasm and have you squirt all over his fingers, drinking up your juices.

Grunting, Dean’s resolve disappeared and his fingers instantly delve between your soaking folds and into your sacred cavern. You and Dean moaned in tandem – you because of finally being filled, and him because you were so fucking wet.

His fingers were huge compared to yours, filling you up in ways you never could yourself. The push and pull made your eyes roll back, loving how good it felt, but now you needed more. You were going to speak, but your words were halted by a gasp. Dean started moving faster, curling his fingers against the rough patch in your pussy, and pressing his thumb to your clit.

A soft shriek spilled from your parted lips, your chest beginning to rapidly rise and fall. Dean could tell you were almost there, but he had other plans for you before you could have the release you were currently chasing. Just when you thought you were going to come, Dean slipped his fingers out, earning a frustrated groan from you.

“Dean!” you scold.

Without saying a word, Dean eased you off his lap, helping you slip your jeans down to your thighs. He then unbuttoned and unzipped his own pants, shimmying his jeans down just enough to free his pulsing cock. He needed to feel you just as much as you needed to feel him.

Dean guided you back over his lap, your back pressing to his chest once again while he aligned the tip of his cock to your entrance. His hands held firmly on your waist, controlling the pace of his thick intrusion. A ragged breath left your lips, your head falling back on his shoulder, as you focused on the feel of him filling you up like no other man in the world ever could. Like he was made for you.

“Fuck,” Dean grunted, his hot exhales brushing against your neck and ear. “I almost forgot how fucking tight you are.”

Once he bottomed out, he held you in place, reminding you just how full he makes you feel, his blunt head pressing against your cervix painfully good. You could come just like this. At the notion, your pussy involuntarily clenched around Dean’s cock, and the action caused Dean to let out a deep growl, the sound sending shivers up your spine.

“What are you thinking about, Y/N?” He asked through gritted teeth.

“Fuck—” you whimpered.

“Tell me Beautiful. What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” His breath caressed your heated skin and your pussy clenched around his cock again. “Sh-shit.”

Abling to catch your breath, you finally gave him an answer. “So big,” you breathed. “So full.”

Pride swelled in his chest. If things were different and you two weren’t stuck in purgatory, he would have you filled this way every time of the day. He’d fill as you wake, burry himself completely before or after breakfast, lunch, and dinner, maybe before and after each. He’d take you while you did (or tired) to do the most mundane chores for example, the dishes or the laundry. He’d fuck you in the back, front, on the hood and trunk of the Impala. Hell, just to irritate his younger brother, he’d soil you on Sam’s bed. He’d burry himself inside of you anywhere and everywhere if you permitted to it.

“Fuck. You’re perfect,” Dean complimented, pushing his hips deeper inside of you as he pulled you down on top of him.

A shuddered mewl fell out of your lips and your eyes rolled back, your chest heaving with desperation. You wanted more… needed more. “Please,” you begged.

Dean obliged, unable to control himself any longer. His strong arms guided you up and down on his shaft, hollowing and filling you to the brim over and over. As much as you needed to be stay silent, less someone find you, it was near impossible. You were too caught up in the pleasure Dean was initiating. Dean was no better. His grunts were loud and feral, needy and blatantly lustful.

It didn’t take long for you to find your release, but Dean willed for more. He wanted to you to come at least one more time before he filled you with his seed, but he was finding it difficult to hold on. The sounds slipping passed your plump and pouty lips were driving him crazy.

“C’mon, Sweetheart, just one more time. I need you to come one more time,” he gritted through his teeth. Your eyes were shut tight, a symphony of euphoria reverberating through your vocal chords, as the familiar heat scorched through your entire body.

One of Dean’s hands left your bruised hips, smoothing against your skin until it found your sweet bud. He added pressure, hastily massaging the little bundle between your legs. You were so close, he could feel it. He just needed you to break.

“Dean!” you screamed, the feeling of pleasure overwhelming you.

Fortunately, the rain had only gotten heavier, the crashing sound against the earth hindering your wails. Dean’s name constantly dripping past your parted lips. Then all at once, everything came crashing to it’s apocalyptic end. Your body shuddered violently, your screams falling silent, and pussy squirting with sweet release. That was all it took for Dean to reach his own end, spilling everything he had to offer deep inside you.

Slowly, your breathings calmed, and your bodies were spent. Your head lulled back, resting on Dean’s shoulder as he nestled against the tree’s core. Sleep eventually took over, but not soon enough for you to miss Dean’s promise.

“When we get out of here… and we will… it’ll be me and you. No more hunting.”

His words would be the only hope you needed to keep on fighting in the realm of monsters.

A/N: Hey! Hope you guys liked it! Please reblog to share with friends, and please leave feedback! I’d love to know what you thought! Also, I’d very much appreciate it! Your kind and/or enthusiastic responses always give me life! xx

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