#yandere dean winchester | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

Visit Blog

Explore Tumblr blogs with no restrictions, modern design and the best experience.

Fun Fact

Tumblr’s reach among the 26-to-35-year-olds in the US is 11%.

#yandere dean winchester

6lostgirl6 · 3 months

Text

Yandere Alphabet - Demon!Dean Winchester

TW: Toxic Relationship, Possessive Behavior, Controlling Behavior, Hints of Physical Abuse, Hints of Verbal Abuse, Kidnapping, Mentions of Murder, Isolation And Spanking As Punishment, Cursing, Manipulation. A/N: Please inform me if I did not tag something correctly. Please know the difference between fictional and reality. While fictional, these types of relationships are extremely toxic, especially in real-life. If your relationship is showcasing these toxic behaviors, please seek help from someone to get out safely. Reblogs are heavily appreciated!!

Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

He’s a physical lover, and he doesn’t give two fucks about PDA. He’ll kiss and touch you whenever and wherever he likes. He always gives you heated, passionate kisses while grasping all over your body and pressing you up against him. When he’s really affected, he’ll growl while kissing you, and his eyes will flash black on occasion.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

Very messy. Demon Dean, at this point, is a malevolent being and will resort to more grotesque methods when it comes to his darling. Even if it means killing innocent people who look at you the wrong way or dare touch you, well, try. He’ll break the person’s bones before they even lay a finger on you.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

Depending on how you react to the situation, his treatment of you varies. If you behave, he'll treat you good by his definition. However, if you react badly, he's going to not react well. Yes, he’ll mock you, because we need to remember that he may love you, but that doesn't change his nature. He has a cruel sense of humor.

Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

He’ll make you come with him on his killing sprees. You’re not a fan of blood; that’s too bad. You’ll just have to get used to it, because that’s all you’re ever going to see besides him. Blood and carnage.

Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

Demon Dean still has some of his old traits from when he was human. He doesn't like expressing his emotions until he trusts you enough. Which would take a long time. However, when he finally trusts you, he’ll be more open about his feelings for you. He still keeps things close to his chest, though he might never speak with you about it.

Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

Oh, he’s pissed.

Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

No, your relationship isn't a game to him. But getting you to fall in love with him will be like a game, and he'll triumph. It’s only a matter of time. Demon Dean wouldn't like seeing you try to escape; it would automatically anger him. He’ll lash out at you.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

Your worst experience with him would be your fights with him. He's scary when he’s angry, especially when it's towards you. He’ll practically scream in your face and manhandle you. Another thing would be him forcing you to see his killing sprees. He doesn't trust you enough to leave you on your own, so you'll have to witness his brutality.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

When it comes to your future with him, you’re stuck with him, and not even death would separate you. He’ll secretly try to uncover a way to turn you into a demon. You'll be isolated from hunters; demons wouldn't dare approach you. He’s the only thing you’ll ever need; nobody else can help you.

Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

Extremely, however, it’s not because he’s insecure; you simply belong to him and are completely off-limits. Coping, what’s that? He’s going to lash out in a violent way at the person attempting to flirt with you. He left people bloodied to a pulp on the floor before, and he has done worse.

Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?

It’s discrete, but he’s a little softer around you, and he would let you get away with small things that he wouldn’t tolerate if it were another person. As a demon, he’s not afraid to show you how deep his love runs for you. He’s clingy and always has a hand grabbing you somewhere. He’s very possessive, and he tends to keep you to himself.

Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

When it comes to demon dean, there is no time for courting or lightly approaching you about his feelings. When he kidnapped you, there were no romantic gestures or heartfelt confessions; you simply belonged to him, and you need to get used to it.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

Of course, Dean treats you differently compared to others. He’s less rough around the edge, and he does try to control his temper better around you. You’re his, and he doesn’t mistreat what belongs to him.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Depending on what you do, however, he'll simply tie you to the bedpost and keep you there until you learn your lesson. He would never intentionally hurt you, but he will force you over your lap and smack your ass until you’re begging for forgiveness. Trust me, he wouldn’t make it fun for you.

Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

The better question is: how many rights would he allow you to have? All you need to do around him is eat, sleep, and look pretty for him. Misbehave, and you’re going to be chained to the bed again.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

He will have zero patience with you, so you better behave for your own sake. He's not afraid of punishing you, however he sees fit, because you didn’t listen to him or try to escape. Therefore, try not to upset him too much.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No, he would never move on. If you died or were killed, his rampage would be talked about in Hell for centuries. If you manage to escape, it won’t last long. He’s going to get you back, whatever it takes, so enjoy the freedom while it lasts.

Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

Ha! Hell no. However, after being cured, he will feel horrible for how he treated you. He’ll feel ashamed that his darker feelings for you were brought to light. He really does love you, but the demonic side of him has horrible ways of showing it.

Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

His transformation into a demon allowed his yandere tendencies to be brought to the surface. He doesn’t have to hold back his urges anymore, and why would he want to?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

Of course he doesn’t like it; he prefers you being obedient and rather docile. He would never admit this, but he would want you to be happy with him, even as a demon. If you try avoiding him, he’ll keep bugging you and forcing you to talk to him. He lacks patience, so your screams and cries will only make him angrier the longer you keep having tantrums.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Demon Dean would never hurt you intentionally, especially by abusing you to make you cooperate. Sure, when he lashes out, there may be a few accidents, but that’s all they are. Accidents.

Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

There are two things you could use: his killing urges and/or feeding into his ego. If you want to play the waiting game, you would have to gain his trust enough to allow you to be out of his sight. Simply pretending to love him won’t be enough because he’ll see right through you. When he goes on his killing sprees, leaving you behind for once will be your chance and only chance to escape. You better protect yourself; he will find you.

Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

No matter how much he cares about you, he will hurt your feelings at times, especially when he flirts with other women in front of you. When he’s extremely angry or has the itching need to kill something, you need to stay out of his way. He will lash out at you with hurtful words and potential bruises.

Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

Demon Dean cares about you despite who he is, and he doesn’t like upsetting you. You’re not much fun with tears in your eyes. As a demon, you’re the only one that makes him feel things—feelings he used to hide within when he was human. Anyway, he would go to the ultimate length to win you over. He’s not going to beg on his knees for your love, but he’ll show you how much he worships you in his own way. You want him to kill someone and bring you their head? He'll do it.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

After Dean became a demon and left with Crowley, he didn’t take you with him at the time, no matter how much he wanted to. However, you’ve never left his thoughts, no matter how much he tried to drink your sweet voice away. You haunted him for months until he finally snapped and came after you.

Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

If Dean was never cured or you never managed a way to escape from him, he’ll find a way to break you and make you depend solely on him. Make you finally see that he is the only thing that would kill to keep you safe. One way or another, he’ll make you fall for him.

Taglist: Comment to be added/removed!!

@prettywhenibleed @britany1997 @rottent33th @slaasherslut @huntressandlioness1 @wraith-posts @schizonephilim

167 notes · View notes

yandereaffections · 1 year

Text

Supernatural Masterlist

Dean Winchester

Headcannons

Soft Dean

New Hunter Crush

Werewolf S/o

Protective of a aloof s/o

Falling for Bobbys Child

S/o who passes out a lot

Sam Winchester

Lucifer

Headcannons

“Its for your safety, Youll see.”

Castiel

Asexual S/o

Poly Destiel

Dean + Castiel poly Headcannons

Dean + Castiel Poly headcannons prt 2

Poly Sam + Dean

Sam + Dean sharing S/o

Sam + Dean Zombie Apocalypse

Lucifer

Evolving your Relationship Slightly NS FW

187 notes · View notes

yxndereblogs · 2 years

Note

Congratulations on the 100 followers sweetie!! 🎉💕 Can I request the whole alphabet with Dean Winchester?

of course! and thank you so much!! 🥰

Yandere!Dean Winchester Alphabet 🖤

Attachment: How do they become obsessed?

It didn’t take long for him to become obsessed. He became obsessed with you because of how much love you gave him when you both would hang out. It was like meant to be for him.

Blood: How messy are they willing to get for their darling?

Pretty messy. Dean would be high up on the scale in all honesty.

Cruelty: How would they treat their darling when they kidnap them? Would they mock them?

He doesn't want you to be scared, so he tries to make it comfortable as possible for you (if it will even work). He would also never mock you. He would hate to see you so upset.

Delusion: How delusional are they when it comes to their darling? Do they believe their darling loves them?

Dean has his moments of delusions. For the most part though, he knows you’re utterly terrified of the situation and that it will take a lot of you to love him again/things to go back to (semi) normal again. So, he would be pretty medium on the scale.

Erratic: How unpredictable are they? How quick are mood changes?

It depends on the day for him, so with that said, he can be rather unpredictable. Some days, you would think you’re walking on egg shells around him when he was angry or even upset. You just never know with him. Mood changes don’t happen quickly, but at the same time, they aren’t infrequent.

Fight: How would they react if their darling fought back?

At first, he would think you’re just messing with him or joking around with him. When Dean realizes you’re being serious, he restrains you gently and tries his best to reassure you and telling you to calm down. Even though it may not work a lot of the time.

Guilt: What would it take for them to feel guilty about their actions? Or do they feel guilty from the start?

Dean would feel guilty from the start/when he first sees you upset and/or angry at him. The last thing he would want to make you feel is sadness and anger, so seeing you in the state makes him feel so guilty.

Hell: What would be their darling’s worse experience with them?

Whenever you get caught in his fits of rage. He tries to contain them around you, but there are times where he just can’t and he just starts yelling and throwing things, some things even hitting you. Afterwards, he would be so upset (at himself) and try to comfort you, but you would just be too terrified to even let him near you.

Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

Living away from the hunting business, maybe somewhere where you both can have a nice-sized family with some pets running around, with his brother living nearby of course.

Jealous: What makes them the most jealous?

I know it may be basic, but whenever other people flirt with you. It just makes Dean’s blood boil, and that is why he hardly lets you leave, even with him.

Kidnap: How would they go about kidnapping their darling? How much do they plan out?

Dean has everything planned out, from the day he’s going to do it to making sure your soon-to-be room is all nice just for you. So, he tries to make it as stealthy as possible with little to no struggle from you.

Love Letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

He definitely flirts with you. A lot. He tries to play it off as making it playful flirting and as if he doesn’t truly mean it, but he wants you to somehow know his flirting is genuine.

Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they acted before?

Not really. Dean acts pretty much the same, except for maybe he isn’t as stone cold around you as he is around a lot of other people.

Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

Isolation. I know that’s a very common answer among many of yanderes, but with Dean, that is the worse he is willing to do when it comes to punishing you.

Outrage: What makes them furious?

Besides the supernatural and all of that, he gets mad whenever you just ignore him, whether when it comes to affection and/or he is talking to you.

Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

Again, it mostly depends on the day for him. Some days, he is very patient and is willing to wait for you/with you. Other days, his patience is on a thin line and that line can break with anything “bad” you may do that day.

Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

No. That’s it. No.

Rage: How do they act when angry? How do they calm down?

As mentioned before, it mostly is on the inside, but he also yells (a lot) and will throw things, him trying not to throw it at you if you so happen to be around. He calms down either by a drink or hearing your voice whenever you try to calm him down, aka you feel like you have to calm him down.

Self-Indulgent: How possessive are they? (If at all?)

Yes. Is that an answer?

Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry and/or isolate themselves?

Dean would be heartbroken and blame himself for your state. He would absolutely be devastated seeing you so upset and would try his best to calm you down or at least get you to sleep so you can calm down.

Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

Besides hunting supernatural beings and getting help from them when you die, escape, are upset, yada yada yada, he's a pretty normal yandere.

Vicious: How vicious can they get?

Around you, not at all. Around other people/people that may hurt you or he believes they can hurt you, very.

Weakness: What weaknesses can their darling exploit in order to escape?

Dean have been touchstarved for god knows how long, so showing him affection in any way is an easy way to let his guard down.

Xenodochia: How quickly would their darling cut them off after they escape?

It wouldn’t be easy, but at the same time, it wouldn’t be the most difficult thing in the world for you. So, it would take only a bit of time for you.

Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

About half a year, maybe less than that if he’s extra impatient to have you.

Zero Tolerance: What is the thing that always makes them snap? What things will they not allow their darling to do under any circumstances?

Dean does not want you to be involved in the supernatural business under any means. Doesn’t matter if you were before he kidnapped you, you are not going to be involved in it anymore.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere supernatural #yandere supernatural x reader #yandere dean winchester #yandere dean winchester x reader

277 notes · View notes

lyssak09 · 2 years

Text

Please enjoy this! If anyone wants more to be added or wants to request something I am more than happy to oblige. Happy reading

Yandere Shapeshifter Dean hcs

He never had name besides calling himself Dean. So imma call him shifty

To meet him you were most likely dating Dean. If I remember correctly after you take someone's shape you also take some memories.

After he saw memories of you he was memorized. You are so kind, beautiful, smart, goofy, and really the love of his life

How could a brute like Dean have you?

Its not fair. He should be loved. He should have you. He should own you

So Shifty decided to take Dean's place. He came back to the bunker and was greeted by you with a hug and quick kiss.

Shifty nearly melts. He is so god damned touchstarved

Even a quick brush of hands will overwhelm him.

On his first day with you all he did was stare and tell you how much he loves you. All you did was kiss him on the cheek and tell him you loved him too and went back to making dinner. You didn't even notice his eyes flash back to their natural state.

Shifty is a clingy, possessive, delusional, obsessive yandere. Yeah, the dude is horrible yandere to have.

If you tried to leave the bunker Shifty had to go with you. Even if you were just going grocery shopping.

You tried to convince him you will be fine. But all he did was grab your arms tightly and tell you that with out him, a monster could kill you in an instant out there.

Trying to argue with him was pointless. So you gave in. You started to no longer have alone time.

Even if you thought you finally got a moment to yourself, Shifty is right outside your door listening to whatever you're doing and peeping through a crack in the wall or door.

He always felt hated and like a monster. But with you he felt loved. That is till you got on that he was your Dean.

You were leaving and going to spend the night at a hotel. You had just argued with Dean for over 2 hours because he tried to force kisses and make out sessions on you. As you neared the door to the outside of the bunker you were tacked to the ground. "OW! DEAN!" You yelled. He quickly sat up, put you in his lap, and rocked back and forth. "Its okay baby. I didn't mean it. It was an accident. You're okay, I'm okay, we're okay baby. Okay?" He asked you and kissed you. All you could do was stare in fear. After being like that for a few minutes he stands up and carries you to your shared room "You're okay baby. I love you." He said and kissed you while he put you in bed. He then laid next to you and pulled her to my chest, not letting her go. "Y-you're not Dean." You whispered. "That's right baby. I'm better than him. Because I love you more than he does and will treat you how you deserve. You belong to me"

You felt so stupid. Yes Dean is sweet, slightly possessive, a tiny bit clingy, and touchstarved

But Shifty takes it to a whole nother level.

Once you find out who he is you can't call him Dean. He isn't Dean. But he'll force you to call him that.

You might start to wonder what happened to your Dean. But I don't think Shifty will ever tell you if he is alive or not.

Shifty started to force things on you, even before you figured out what he was

He started with making you cuddle him on the couch, then kissing/making out, then he made you do other things.

If you try to fight him or disobey him then you will be punished. His punishments range from physical to emotional. But never sexual. Sex is supposed to be an act that shows your love for each other.

But that doesn't mean he won't force you do it if needed or wanted to. But in his eyes it isn't forced. He just thinks you're acting like this to rile him up and make him force you. That's how delusional Shifty is.

His punishments are pretty rough. He might get mad and hit you or bite you. Hard. Or he might lock you in a room with no contact or interaction.

You'll be chained that is only long enough to reach the bathroom. Your food will be delivered through a slot in the door. Shifty might even lace your food with something to give you hallucinations or night terrors He'll either let you out after how many days he fews it fit or until you bang on the door and beg him to let you out. Of course he'll make you apologize then he'll open the door.

When he does you'll lunge at him in tears. That room traumatized you. How could you not be?

Leaving you in there will be hard for him. This hurts him more than you dear. But it was all worth is for you to initiate physical contact and beg for him to not leave. Even hearing you beg and call out for him was worth it.

Shifty can be very sweet and loving. But good god does he have anger issues. He can't handle being talked back to or argued with by anyone but you. Thankfully for you he loves you, so he can handle tiny bit of talking back and arguing from you. But not for long. He'll get angry and start breaking things, yelling, and threatening you and anyone you love. So don't sass back too much.

And never ever tell him you don't love him. He'll lose his shit if he hears that.

In all honesty he is one of the worst yanderes to have. So good luck

#yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere male #yandere headcanon #yandere dean winchester #supernatural #dean winchester #yandere supernatural #dean winchester x reader #yandere dean winchester x reader #Lyssa's hcs #Miss Blue writing

315 notes · View notes

targaryenluvs · 15 days

Text

HIDE N SEEK’ / DEMON!DEAN WINCHESTER

Pairings: Demon!Dean Winchester x Fem!Hunter!Reader

Summary: Sam had placed you in a safe home when learning that Dean had somehow gotten away. But Dean promised you, a few games have to be played, and maybe you might just get away. Silly you, a Demon never keeps his word.

Warnings: Dark themes per usual, established relationship, chasing, taunting, use of force, threats & anger, hair pulling, threats, dacryphilia, sexual implications, vulgar language

Word count: 1.7K Words

A/N: Here it is! My first Supernatural fic, I’m so excited to write for these two! I'm still on season one so forgive me for any inaccuracies <3

Gif not mine, credits to the owner!

Your heart was beating erratically, and rightfully so.

The literal demon version of your own boyfriend, Dean, was currently chasing you around your place. So much for safe home.

“The more you run, the more angry I get Y/n/n.” His voice sent chills down your spine but you knew you had to keep going. You rounded the corner and grabbed the stair case banister to haul yourself upstairs. You could hear his footsteps, loud and clear.

“I gave you a chance, remember that.”

The house that was now trapping you inside, used to be your safe haven.

“Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on Sam?!” His eyes wouldn’t meet yours, the entire time he drove. Sam’s knuckles kept wrapping around the wheel, his knuckles were white and his grip unrelenting.

You’d met Dean not long ago, whilst you were still a baby hunter. Only a year had gone by since you’d lost your best friend whilst she and her boyfriend were on a hunt. It was your first time, and when you’d found out about the supernatural world. A wrong swing, a sharp knife and the dark of night caused her to pass away that night.

You were thoroughly traumatised from losing someone you were so close to, and the job wasn’t complete yet. But Jake called in reinforcements, in the form of Sam and Dean.

From then you’d continued to keep in touch with them, mostly Dean, talking to him helped you immensely when dealing with the pain of losing someone you loved. And when you’d run into them in California, and Dean asked you out, you were jumping for joy.

Within the two weeks you’d spent with them, hunting, travelling and living, you’d never felt happier. So when Dean asked you to stay with him, to be his?

You agreed with no hesitation.

But with a sick family member, you drew back. It’d been over a month and in that time you’d missed so much. So when your family got better and they all dispersed to their rightful places, you were surprised when Sam all of a sudden came to pick you up.

And you’d wound up at your safe home. With no explanation and a lack of communication, you found yourself lonely. Dean never reached out, Sam only checked in on mornings to make sure you were okay. Sam had literally taken your phone, giving you another with only his number.

Of course you’d asked questions, but you trusted Sam. So when he told you it was for the best? You’d listened. You’d wanted more information, but not like this.

The ringing of your phone had awoken you that night, you groaned as you turned over glancing at the alarm clock to your side.

3:30am.

“Sam what—,”

“Are you okay?”

You furrowed your eyebrows as you sat up in your bed, “I’m fine, what’s up?”

“You need to check the doors. The windows— god everything. You need to make sure you’re safe. Do you have access to your weapons?”

“No, I left them in my car. Most of my weapons stash is downstairs, I only have a few handguns and knifes in the bathroom. What’s wrong Sam?”

“It’s Dean, I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you Y/n. He’s not safe, he’s…” You got up from your bed, heading downstairs. You needed water if you were going to continue with this weird conversation.

You refrained from rolling your eyes, what hell is up with the dramatics? “He’s what Sam. A vampire?” You joked whilst grabbing a glass from the cupboard.

“Nope, not a vampire sweetheart.”

The glass shattered on the floor at the sound of his voice, it’d been far too long since you’d heard it.

‘Y/n? You still there?’ His voice was so close yet so far.

‘'Y/n? Is he there?" His voice was so close yet so far. Dean’s eyes were dark and black, nothing like the green you found yourself loving everyday. As if the eyes weren’t enough to tell you something was wrong, the hammer in his hand and the dark expression on his face.

Demon.

It was the one word that seeped into your mind from Sam’s screeching through the phone. Dean’s smirk made your heart beat faster. "If I was you sweetheart, I’d get to runnin’."

So you did.

With all the energy your drowsy body could muster, you ran past him and into the dining room before turning the corner. His taunts followed as you turned a corner, only to be met with a hard chest. “You’re making this too easy baby. How bout’ this, you hide and I seek. And if I catch you,”

You tried to pull away from him, but Dean was stronger now. “If I catch you, well you don’t wanna know.” His eyes flicked from green to black, and your heart dropped. His grip faltered and you took it as your chance to go. You ran to the back door, only to find it locked.

“Thought I told you to hide?”

“Shut up! I’m not playing!” You shouted as you ducked behind the kitchen counter, hopefully he hadn’t seen you by now.

As you peaked from behind you noticed the black boot by your foot, “You always looked best beneath me.” A wave of disgust rolled through as you grabbed onto his leg and pushed, swiping it from underneath him.

You ran back to the stairs.

“I gave you a chance, remember that.”

The words echoed through your head as you ran upstairs into your bedroom when the alarm system began blaring.

A bit late for that, you thought.

The crimson red seeped through the whole home, indicating an intruder. Shivers went up your spine at the thought of a demon chasing you, red consuming you.

You were a hunter, yes. But not emotionless, so a literal Demon chasing you through your home with the face of your boyfriend was more than enough to cloud your judgement. On one hand, all you can see is Dean. You can stare into his eyes, whether they're green or black, you can see the familiar stature that always cuddled you.

You could hear his voice, and boy was it hard to not listen.

Leaning against the door, you closed your eyes and breathed heavily in an attempt to calm yourself down. Was Sam on his way? Or were you defenceless against him?

As you calmed down, your eyes widened in terror. The bathroom door to your right was open, and led right into your room. You scrambled to your feet and rushed to the door but were knocked back down.

You were right, a Demon's much more menacing with a red glow. he was entering the bathroom with a smile on his face.

"There you are, sweetheart." He raised his arms outwards in a mock hug, those open arms were usually your safety. But now? You weren't so sure if they'd be the best place to be.

"Now I told you not to run, you can't get away. Be realistic baby." His footsteps were slow and menacing, but he hadn't entered the room yet. Your eyes flickered momentarily to the door, and an idea rushed through your mind.

Dean seemingly caught on, "Don't you dare—,"

The slamming of the door cut him off as you swiftly rose to your knees, turning the lock. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you got up with the help of your bed. "Okay, now I'm mad."

And you sure as hell were not in the mood to experience it. So you slowly tiptoed over to the bedroom door, unlocking it. The eerie silence did nothing but raise your heartbeat. Where was he?

You turned to look back at the bathroom door, you couldn't spot any shadows. Either you barricade yourself upstairs and pray for a miracle in the form of a certain Winchester, or you take your chances with the stairs and risk getting grabbed.

You had a good feeling about the stairs, and if Dean was following then you'd for sure hear him with how loud his steps were, right?

The bedroom door closed behind you as you slowly made your way to the top of the stairs. You couldn't hear anything, or see anything besides red. So you ran.

With each step your faith in getting away was renewed.

But as you made your way to the ground an arm harshly dug into your stomach as you screamed. "Told you I'd getcha." You squirmed in his grasp, clawing at the door to pull yourself away from him. "Keep moving like that and I'll crush your skull in." That got your attention, your arms dropped to your side as you stood on the ground.

"Always so good for me baby, yeah?" You shook your head as he chuckled, "You don't want to be my good girl?" His voice was hot in your ear, and his words went straight down to your--

"I'm talking to you." Dean spun you around, you were chest to chest now, his eyes bore into yours as he awaited a response. His stare was too intense so you settled for staring at the ground. He didn't like it.

His hands dug into your chin, forcing you to look up at him, "Yes or No?" Your lips inched closer to his as he grinned, "Missed me have you?" The distraction was all you needed, the hunter in you telling you to run. Dean groaned as you ran towards the door having swiftly kneed him in the groin.

As your hands fumbled with the latch, a hand twisted around your hair before yanking you back, "You bitch, you think you're slick?" You cried out as he climbed ontop of you, his eyes flashed back to black as a scowl overcame his face.

His hold never relented as he dragged you upstairs, “Please Dean!” Despite your pleading he continued to walk, your pleas seemingly driving him. “You want to be a bitch? I’ll treat you like one.” You wheezed as you made impact with bed, courtesy of Dean’s harsh push.

You turned over, trying to crawl away as his hand wrapped around your ankle, “Stop!” His chuckle was deep and his hand bruised you. You couldn’t help the tears that ran down your face, this wasn’t your Dean.

“Fuck you look pretty when you cry. Y’know, I’ve missed this.” His hands ran down your stomach, and back up your chest as you attempted to shimmy away. A hand wrapped around your hip, digging in to hold you down.

“Missed these tits too.”

Your eyes widened as his hand unbuckled his belt.

“We’ve got time to spare, right?”

#supernatural x fem!reader #supernatural x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #dean winchester x fem!reader #demon!dean winchester x reader #demon!dean winchester #dark!dean winchester x reader #yandere supernatural x reader #yandere!dean winchester x reader #dark themes

313 notes · View notes

supernaturals-fav-witch · 7 months

Text

☆~♡Wings♡~☆

Dating the angelic beings /being their soulmate (so being the only one that can see their wings)

Micheal/Adam milligan

Micheal is kinda protective over his wings at first

But when he met you he softened up

You seemed to want to see them all the time even when he hid them

So he let up

His wings are tuff and thick, not easily bent or moved

You still need to be gentle with them though

If you're to rough with them that will either 1 hurt him or 2 make him veryyy needy 😉

He likes being around you alot so when you're hunting or doing something and it gets to dangerous he will wrap his wings around you creating a little room where nothing could get through

When you have trouble sleeping hell wrap you in one of his wings like a burrito and it helps you sleep, it Also calms his and Adam's anxiety/nerves

Lucifer

AS SOON AS HE FIGURES OUT YOU CAN SEE HIS WINGS WITH OUT LOSING YOURE EYES HE FUCKING GETS WILD!

He's legit so f*cking happy you can see them without any reproductions

He always has a wing covering you're back

When you sleep or hug or kiss his he holds you tightly to his body and wraps his wings as close as he can without hurting you

He refuses to let you sleep outside of his wings

In public if you're shy he will guide you with his wings

Some times if you're hunting with like Sam or Dean and it gets to dangerous he will wrap his wings around you them telaport you to the thrown room in hell and play doctor/patent with you being to over dramatic making sure you not hurt AT ALL

His wings are sturdy and buff the are soft but not gentle

They are strong af, and they basically are everything proof

But if you touch or tickle his wings the right way, Here ->

🦼👩‍🦼👩‍🦽

He's gonna be all over you!!

If he's being mean you just massage his wing and he fucking MELTZ

But if others touch his wings he's sending them to his worst demons to get tortured

Gabriel

He wrapped his wings around you before he knew you could see them, and before you were dating

He's used to you and his wings

He doesn't see it as a big deal

He loves his wings but loves you more sooo

He's also very clingy and cuddly so his wings are always around you

The have huge span just like the other archangels, basically all the archangels wings reach to about 54 feet wide and 32 feet tall in my mind

I mean castiel says that his true form is the size of the Chrysler Building in New York, which is 1047 feet (319m) in height and he's just a angel so 1 imagine how big his wings are let alone how archangels are much bigger then regular angels so they could easily be like 2000 feet tall in true form.

Gabes wings are soft and gentle they often have a mind of their own and sway to music

Raphael

Questions you when he figures out you can see his wings

Is happy you can see them but doesn't show it

He usually has a wing around you bc he protective

He's not that open to pda but if you're affectionate alot then he will be too

He matched you're energy so you don't dis like him

One time you two where laying in bed and you were trying to fall asleep but couldn't due to how cold it was and you told Raphael, he let you use his wing as a blanket. He just opened his wing and guided you on how to Lay down on it and then wrapped you up in it

You fell asleep quickly due to the softeners and warmth

Now it's you're favorite thing to do

If you touch his wings without his knowledge his wings likely accidentally zap you a little bit

So always give him warning when touching his wings or else it might end up badly

He loves you alot but is very chill and doesn't want to have much pda, but if you do want alot of pda his favorite way to show he loves you is through physical touch, meaning wing hugs

Oh also when you kiss him without warning his wings flap without him trying

Castiel

He doesn't really believe the whole "soulmates" thing

But he he finds out about it he slowly starts to believe it more

He loved you even before he knew you two were supposed to be together

He grooms his wings alot, one time he had a hard time cleaning and area of his wings and you walked in, asked if you could help.

.... long story short you always groom his wings

His wings are strong yet soft

His feathers are like a super soft cats fur

When he's sad or angry massage his wings gently and it calms him down

If he's having a panic attack, hug him tightly and massage the base of his wings it will calm him

If you and him a near someone he doesn't trust guess what? ✨️wing burrito✨️

He likes rubbing his wings against you during sex bc it makes it more intense for him

He also rubs his wings against you when he tellaports so he doesn't scare you

When you sleep he puts his wings around you just so you're safe

Jack kline

Jack knew you can see his wings just by the way you looked at him

He loves you and loves having his wings around you

His wing is always touching you

When he's sad they droop

He loves you touching his wings but it makes him shudder

He fludders his wings when you walk in

If you're cold or sad he will wrap you in his wings and cuddle you whilst talking to you

He loves you dearly and the fact he can use his wings on/with you means alot to him

He loves you're touch on his wings

You and him both learn how to groom his wings

After he showers he shakes of his wings like a dog

His wings soak up so much water that it gets everywhere

He sheds his feathers alot and the grow back quickly

But you took one of his feathers and put it on a necklace

If you two are apart and you get hurt or are sacred he cans sense it through the feather of his you wear and he comes

If you pray to him you feel wings around the second you prey to him

Chuck sherly / god

When Chuck created soulmates he didn't specifically much except "every being had a soul that is ment to be with them, they fit like puzzles together"

When he figured out you where his soulmate and you could see his wings he immediately hugged picked you up and deeply kissed you

Scince he's god nobody can see his wings, it ruins them

But scince you're his fitting puzzle peace you can see his wings

He loves you but he loves that you can see his wings too

He constantly shows you pda/affection anywhere any time, and he loves showing you that through his wings

He spoons you with his wings

He pins you against the wall with his wings

If he doesn't want you leaving bed he holds you down with his wings

When you shower with him he has his wings close to you holding you close whilst he washes you're hair

If you get embarrassed he wraps you in his wings to hide you

#castiel winchester #dean winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #the winchester brothers #yandere supernatural x reader #reality shifting #shifting #spn soulmates #soulmates #archangels #adam milligan x reader

178 notes · View notes

pikachupepito2 · 1 year

Text

Ok I just had a dream about dean winchester x reader that is about him fucking reader while Sam is sleeping in the Same bed

I have problems

#yandere supernatural #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader

53 notes · View notes

natashaxmarvelmen · 1 year

Text

Anyone taking requests for male reader smut? 🔞

Who write male reader or ships (girl x boy ships)

And who writes for:

Marvel

Btvs

Supernatural

DC universe

Celebrities

Please, respond by commenting or messaging me PLEASE!!?!! Plzz.

95 notes · View notes

yxndereblogs · 2 years

Note

Hi lovely! Can I request some headcanons with yandere Dean x reader x yandere Castiel? How they would react if younger guys won't stop flirting with the reader?

of course!! and thank you so much for requesting! :)

Yandere!Dean Winchester and Castiel with Reader Being Hit On Headcanons 🖤

•it wasn’t like you were dating the other two, at least in your mind. in dean’s mind, you were pretty much dating him, even though it wasn’t obvious. in castiel’s mind, while he isn’t the smartest about dating, he still had this feeling around you that is called love as he learned to know.

•you three were friends and have been for a long time, at least with dean. when you first met castiel, you were shocked to see an angel so upclose and of course, you tried to shoot at it. obviously that didn’t work as we all know.

•castiel wasn’t shocked that you tried to pretty much kill him, despite dean telling you that cas wasn’t there to hurt you and that he is on your side. you were hesitant about that, but you believed dean since he is your best friend after all.

•anyways, when castiel first met you (actually and not being shot at), he just felt something that he has never felt before in all of his years and when he asked dean, he was mad someone else was in love with you. in the end though, he didn’t mind sharing you with him, despite him and cas both being delusional.

•but one time while you three were out at a restaurant, doing hunter stuff and cas being cas, some younger guys came up to you three and ignoring dean and castiel, just started to flirt with you and you blushing slightly at some of them.

•dean was having none of it though and slammed his fist on the table and told the guys to piss off, saying that you aren’t available. castiel on the other hand, said to just leave you alone and that you’re taken and dating him and dean, which the guys just laughed at cas for saying.

•making dean even more mad, he took his gun out and aimed it at the guys, not caring that it is in public and castiel not caring about the lights going out and his angel wings showing. you then told the guys to back off as you tried to calm the two men down.

•the guys that flirted with you did indeed leave as well as the whole restaurant because obviously. you quickly apologized to the people that were still there and grabbed your stuff and left with dean and cas. that should teach everyone a lesson not to mess with you, their friend significant other.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere supernatural #yandere supernatural x reader #yandere dean winchester #yandere dean winchester x reader #yandere castiel #yandere castiel x reader

245 notes · View notes

lyssak09 · 2 years

Text

Dean Winchester hc

Reader is female. I'll get better at writing reader as gender neutral. I promise!

75% scarry boi and 25% cinnamon roll

Definitely has at least slight anger issues and delusional

You might have been another hunter or someone he met in a bar. Either way, it doesn't matter

When he first laid eyes on you, you looked like an angel. Just absolutely stunning.

When he first started talking to you you just thought he was cocky

While he thought you were just amazing. Like he can't find the proper words to describe you. You are just perfect

So he goes up to you and starts flirting.

You might play along or just very politely decline his advances

Either way, he wears you down and gets you to go out with him

After you start to get to know him you see he is a very sweet person. And eventually you'll start dating

In the beginning phase of your relationship it was perfect. For the most part

Dean was a bit clingy but nothing bad. Just a few puppy eyes here and there whenever you try to leave without him

But as time goes on he becomes worse. More clingy, pushy, demanding, and possessive

Dean will force/manipulate you to move in with him and tries to cut off any contact someone has with you.

He will barely let you around Sam and Cas. Everytime you're around them Dean will have a tight hand around your own hand or waist, pulling you close to him

If you do somehow manage to go out by yourself Dean will find out (he may or may not put a track on your phone and in you) and go after you. He might force you home or if you've been good he'll let you think you're alone but will just stalk you.

Dean will start to demand you to do little things. Such as kissing him when he demands asks or making you cuddle with him and not letting you up

If the rest of Team Free Will ask about you and if they can hangout with you Dean will 100% become either defensive, dodge the question, or just make up excuses

Eventually you'll get tired of his ways and try to leave

"DEAN!" Y/N yelled. "CALM DOWN! I was just hanging out with my friends!" she said in fear. I continued to throw my fit and destroy part of the bunker. "THEY'RE TRYING TO TAKE YOU FROM ME. WHY ARE YOU FRIENDS WITH ALL THEM?!" I yelled and chucked a lamp across the room. Y/N flinched and got angry. "Because they are my best friends! I've known them longer than you! I love them, you jerk!" She yelled. "THEY'RE NOT WORTH YOUR TIME. ONLY I AM." I yell and walk towards her. "I'm done Dean. You've made me lose half of my friends, made me move in with you even though I wasn't ready, and so much more. We're over Dean." I hear her say. As she gets ready to leave it hits me that she's leaving me. "DON'T YOU DARE WALK OUT THAT DOOR Y/N. I LOVE YOU. YOU'RE MINE" I yell as I grab her wrist. "I belong to no one. Especially you." "Baby, you aren't allowed to leave me ever. You're mine." I say to and tighten my grasp on her wrist. Y/N scoffs and yanks her wrist back and walks out the door. "Son of a bitch!" I yell. She's mine. I love her and she loves me. I threw a chair in anger. Who does she think she is?! She belongs to me!

Dean will wait for a few days. I mean you love him, so you'll come back to him, right? He'll call you everyday and stalk watch you from a far

He'll get tired of waiting and stright up kidnap you. Once he has you back home you're screwed.

You will be chained up. And if you want out to use the restroom or give your wrists and or ankles a break you will have to give Dean something back in return

"You wanna shower? Cuddle with me then"

He loves an contact you give him. He won't admit it but he is touchstarved. So if you wanna manipulate him then let him cuddle you, play with his hair, ect.

If you talk back or just misbehave then he will be pissed. Dean will throw things, yell, and will be very forceful. If you don't apologize for whatever then he will grab you by the throat and force you too.

After an argument or a rough day between the two of you, Dean will grab you and make you sit on his lap and try to get you to laugh. He thinks your laugh is the most mesmerizing thing. Its music to him.

Dean's main goal is to get you to depend on him/ love him and as a bonus, maybe start a family.

Dean wants to spoil you and just do couple things together. But that is all based on your behavior. If you're bad then you're getting punished

He will also use your loved ones against you. Even Castiel or Sam. And Dean is terrifying and serious about his threats. So don't test him

Dean is delusional. So he doesn't think what he is doing is wrong. You're his future wife so there is nothing wrong with kidnapping taking you home and training preparing you for your life together.

Now we all know Dean is a quite a drinker. So when he gets drunk he does get more irritable so take caution. When he is drinking he knows what he's doing is wrong, but he doesn't care.

Dean loves you more than life itself. If you escape he will tear the world apart in search of you.

Remember that he loves you. More than you know

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere headcanon #yandere male #yandere #yandere dean winchester x reader #yandere dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #yandere supernatural #supernatural #Lyssa's hcs #Miss Blue writing

236 notes · View notes

tomatobasilsoupss · 1 month

Text

My fav things written by people ˙⋆✮

Smut = red white = not smut

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky barnes -

Welcome home soldat ~

Bucky relapses into the winter soldier

By - @winterarmyy

You’re Mine, Sunshine series ~

Bodyguard bucky x fem!reader

By - @urdepressedslut

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Will Graham & Hannibal Lecter -

Routine check up ~

Hannibal x reader x Will

By - @ihavemanyhusbands

Haunting ~

Will graham x reader

By - @lauriegraham01

Moaning Sensually ~

Yandere!Hannibal x reader x Will

By - @jokingmisfit

Arguing with will ~

By - @ihavemanyhusbands

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sam Winchester -

Interrogation ~

Vamp!reader x sam and dean

By - @mggsv

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sokka -

Do you? ~

By - @bouncybongfairy

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason Todd -

Migraines ~

By - @jasntodds

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Wayne Mccullough -

Shoplifting ~

By - @kaicubus

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Castiel -

Don't bet on it ~

By - @hollybell51

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#bucky barnes x reader #winter soldier x reader #sam winchester x reader #pietro maximoff x reader #jason todd x reader #wayne mccullough x reader #castiel x reader #sokka x reader #will graham x reader #hannibal lecter x reader

64 notes · View notes

supernaturals-fav-witch · 7 months

Note

Can you do size diff with Sam winchester ✨️😘

Size difference with Sammy 🩷

(I'm assuming you want reader to be smaller then sam? So that's what you should expect!)

This is how you hug him most days

He usually picks you up to hug or kiss you or sit down

He loves affection

He makes sure that he doesn't fall asleep on you so he doesn't suffocate you

Usually likes you laying on him

He calls you're 'mouse' you call him 'moose'

He like manhandeling you at times either that or treat you like a Antique doll

Loves cuddles

Calls you 'my travel size sweetheart'

Loves matching you're energy

Cooks for/with you but always ends up hold you like a baby

Loves picking you up

If you're chubby and short he loves that too (he's a thigh man so if you chubby he's all over you're thighs)

Picks you up to kiss you 24/7

Likes holding you're hand and kissing you

When you're on you're phone to much he will take it and hold it above you

Puts you in air jail

Will literally pick you up and f*ck you standing in the bedroom bc he can

Puts you on his shoulders and eats you out like that

He loves thighs skinny or thick and he loves the feeling of youre thighs around his head

Usually is carrying you some sort of way

You usually sit on his lap and give him neck kisses or chest kisses whilst he's reading bc you cant reach his lips

If he bonks his head on something you take care of him

You warn him when to duck

His clothes are soo Baggy on you it's like a dress

If you let him do you're makeup you'll just sit on his lap whilst he does you're make-up

Loves doing you're hair

Loves comparing sizes 24/7

Thank you for reading, please ask me for more my inbox is always open and is a safe place ❤️

#castiel winchester #dean winchester #john winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #the winchester brothers #yandere supernatural x reader #size difference sam winchester #sam winchester size

94 notes · View notes

thestruidora · 11 months

Text

Sweetheart

Supernatural Fanfiction

Rating: Explicit

WARNINGS: This story will contain but it’ll not be limited to explicit 18+ content including Yandere, Borderline Personality Disorder, Stalker, Possessive Behavior, Romance, Angst, Fluff and Smut, Rape/Non-con Elements, Hurt/Comfort, Therapy, Miscommunication, Plot With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Obsessive Behavior, Smut, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Oral Sex, Dirty Talk, Praise Kink, Degradation Kink

Category: F/M

Pairings: Dean Winchester/You, Dean Winchester/Reader

Summary: Dean has borderline personality disorder and the reader is his favorite person.

Chapter Updates: Masterlist

Author's notes: I don't even what to write in here at this point. All I can say is that I really hope you guys enjoy because it took me fucking forever to write.

Chapter Four

The Tower

“The Tower is about sudden, shocking change. Change that can knock you off your feet and alter your future as you thought you knew it.”

“Alright, everyone, good work today. See you ladies tomorrow!” George, the construction site’s foreman, yelled out to the workers the second the clock struck 5 p.m.

“Fucking finally.” Dean murmured to himself, putting down the sledgehammer he was holding and taking off his safety gloves, hands free at last to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

“That eager to come home to the wife, huh?” Sid asked him with a knowing smirk, and Dean smiled in return, amused at just how far off his colleague was.

“Oh, you don’t know how much.” He said it with ease, taking off his goggles and patting away the fine dust from his hair.

“I would be too if I had a great gal like Lisa to come home to.” Sid winked at Dean, hands busy with removing his own safety gear.

“Yeah, she’s… She’s great.” The Winchester nodded and looked to the side, the fake smile dying on his lips. “Anyways, I’mma head out. Talk to you tomorrow, Sid.” He bids his farewell, feet moving towards the parking lot, not wanting to prolong the conversation.

“See ya.” Sid waves him off, even though Dean's back was already to him.

Once he's inside his monstrosity of a car — the respectful family minivan —, he lets out a long, deep-rooted sigh.

Out of the windshield, he can see the beginning of sunset, the light blue sky seamlessly turning to a burning orange. If you ask him, the end of his shift couldn't have come fast enough. The days have been longer than usual, each one stretching itself out more than the one before. The hours drag by, and it sure doesn't help that he's been counting them.

But he can't help it, he hasn't seen you in a long time. Too long. Almost two weeks. Twelve excruciating days.

He'll have his session with you in a couple of days, and you'll finally be face-to-face with him again. ‘Cause it's not like he hasn't seen you from afar this whole time, that'd be crazy. He has to keep an eye on you, right? To protect you.

That's what he's been doing. Protecting you. Ever since the very first time he set foot in your office and you told him that the two of you could no longer be friends, he dedicated himself to reverting the situation, but to no avail since you could be so stubborn.

His line of communication with you became thinner and thinner and it felt like the more he tried to reach for you, the more he risked breaking it altogether.

He no longer saw you at the dog park, since your friend with terrible timing had decided to come back from her vacation and get Loki back from you.

You had never officially given your personal phone number to him, even though he has had it for a while now. It couldn't have been easier to obtain, he just saved the contact after seeing your open phone bill atop the table in your living room on one of the many occasions in which he had let himself into your apartment.

So he couldn't just call you out of nowhere, it would be weird and it would raise questions.

He couldn't do it.

It didn't matter that you had canceled his last appointment and that had set him off into a panic attack, which he had never had before.

It didn't matter that he couldn't stop thinking that you had grown tired of him and his stupid problems and his endless daddy issues.

That he literally could not breathe at the thought of how worthless and pathetic you must think he is.

Even though your receptionist had assured him that she made a mistake and overbooked you that week, he couldn't believe that.

You were sick of him, that's what it was.

It had to be.

And even as he sits in the driver's seat of his revolting minivan, knowing full well that he's only a couple of days away from being with you in person, he can't help but want to be near you right now. Just so he can fix it. Whatever it was about him that made you loathe him and despise him, he can change.

He has to see you at that very instant.

It's all he can think about as he turns on the vehicle's engine and drives exactly at the speed limit from the construction site all the way to your house, parking on the other side of the street as he always does.

The big glass windows of your apartment allow for ample observation of whatever occurs inside, giving Dean a privileged view of your form as you turn on the lights on your way from your living room to the kitchen. Your silhouette is bathed in the warm glow of the lamps that shine through its surroundings and light up the space now that the sun has set and night has fallen.

He can see your fingers moving nimbly as you wash whatever dishes you find in the sink, bringing your damp hand to your forehead and then moving to rub at your nape with a sigh when you’re finished.

He can tell you still have your work clothes on as you must have just come home. And it’s not difficult to imagine how tired you are from the frown creasing in the middle of your eyebrows. He can visualize it so clearly now, his own fingers moving delicately across your skin to smooth that frown away.

He has watched you from this exact vantage point for months and it still feels like the first time with the way his heart aches with the need to be closer. The way his hand closes in a fist as though to contain the desire to reach out and touch you in some way.

But alas, he can’t. Because you would turn him away. You would be scared of him. He knows you would, so he just leans back in the car seat, attempting to control the flurrying in his chest, and watches.

You untie your hair from the ponytail you had it in as you move back to the living room and it falls around your face, caressing your neck. Something catches your attention and you walk to your discarded purse on top of the coffee table, retrieving your phone from it. Whatever it is that flashes through the screen causes a smile to appear on your lips before you raise the device to your ear and start to talk.

Dean fidgets in his seat with the uncomfortable feeling of not knowing who is on the other end of the line, but he tries not to let his mind wander to dangerous places. Your sister, perhaps?

You use your shoulder to secure your phone to your ear as you bring your hands down to your shirt and begin to unbutton it. He sucks in a breath at the sight, unsure of what to do with himself as your fingers work their way down till the top is completely unbuttoned, your bare skin peeking through as well as the fabric of your bra.

He notices your mouth moving to form words he can't decipher while you pull your shirt completely off, throwing it on the spacious couch in the middle of your living room before your legs take you back to the kitchen, where you open the fridge to get a glass of water for yourself.

The refrigerator light illuminates the contours of your exposed stomach and collarbone, the supple flesh of your cleavage lightly bouncing up and down with the way your bust is confined tightly by your bra cups.

Dean thinks he might be on the verge of an aneurysm as he witnesses you drink from the once full glass till the water is entirely gone, a couple of drops escaping from your lips in your haste to quench your thirst, running down your jaw to your neck and disappearing in the space between your breasts.

Suddenly his own mouth is dry and he feels as if he's been lost in a desert for ages, those sinful droplets of water that are lucky enough to travel through the valleys of your body being the only source of hydration that can placate his craving.

Once you're satisfied, you leave the empty glass on the sink and go to the living room yet again, this time stopping by the wall adjacent to your flat-screen TV and bending down to freshen up the bowl of kibble for your cat, taking your time to shake the dish side to side till the shorthaired black Bombay saunters into the common area with a regal air about itself, tail swinging lazily and big golden eyes staring affectionately at you as it meows over and over.

You put down the food bowl on its original place on the floor and stretch your arms out to pet the head of the animal, a loving expression taking over your face, more words pouring out from you to meet the phone's receiver, whatever is being said by the other person causing you to laugh unreservedly, the content of the exchange still an unfortunate mystery to Dean.

The cat advances on its dinner and you observe it for a second, before getting up from your crouched down position and moving to stand directly in front of the perfectly transparent glass window from where he can see you.

Instead of making an attempt to hide, Dean props himself forward in your direction, the darkness of nightfall in your poorly lit neighborhood keeping him undetected by your eyes that scan the landscape through the window, seemingly not finding interest in anything in particular.

He gulps incredulously at what follows; you, phone once again glued to your ear with the help of your shoulder, taking your hands south to your pants, unzipping and unbuttoning it, tugging down the waist of the garment until the top of your panties is showing.

He's now a thousand percent sure that he's in absolute perfect health, because if that weren't the case, his heart would've given out by now. He can hear the organ rapidly beating in his ears, blood pumping fiercely, bringing heat to his face as a mixture of shame and excitement overtakes his mind.

He shouldn't be doing this. He shouldn't be there. A better man would've turned on his car and driven away, and an even greater man wouldn't have come here at all. But Dean proves to be neither of those while he sits there and observes you languidly remove your pants and sigh contently once you've stripped yourself down to your underwear.

You stretch your neck to the left and then to the right, your torso accompanying the movement. Whoever is on the other line appears to say something that you appreciate thoroughly, with the way a wishful smile dances in the corners of your lips, and uneasiness builds inside of Dean at the sight.

He has never been a particularly jealous guy, not with his material possessions — except for Baby —, nor with his romantic partners which, to be fair, had been few in between. Countless one-night stands, sure. But only one or two real ‘girlfriends’ were all the relationships he had to draw reference from. Very short-lived relationships, not to mention.

Of course, there was Lisa, but he never really dated Lisa. They skipped that part and went straight into living together and a marriage proposal, with a kid and a dog in tow. And through it all, he had never experienced the burning feeling of insecurity that he’s feeling right about now.

Who are you talking to at the end of your day? Are these regular calls or just a singular, uncustomary thing? Is the caller an important person to you? Do they play a crucial role in your life? Do they fill a space that Dean could not?

That’s an ominous notion that he’s not sure he can bear. An ugly and twisted, unexpected emotion that Dean hadn’t been previously introduced to takes hold of him as those thoughts ruminate in his mind.

You walk away from the window and make your way towards the couch. A deep exhale leaving you as you sink down onto the soft cushions, a sense of comfort and relaxation appearing to wash over you.

While engrossed in your conversation, the pads of your fingers patter down the expanse of your neck, where they land just below your collar, ending up playing with the strap of your bra.

You tug and readjust the thin piece of material, your eyes unfocused as they stare at the far wall in front of you, blinking slowly while your mouth takes its sweet time to form the words as they come out, the way your lips shape around the unintelligible sounds rendering Dean utterly hypnotized.

There’s something wicked about this.

The fact that he can see you so clearly from the outside of your home, the place where you feel safe, the space where you can allow yourself to be your utmost true, surrounded only by the privacy of your walls.

The reality that he has pierced that barrier and infiltrated a moment that would otherwise be shared with nobody but you.

The position that you are in, so exposed without even knowing, so much of your smooth skin, bare only for his eyes in the quiet of the night.

The way a pleasant tingle spreads between his legs, blood rushing south, filling his cock inside his pants.

There’s something sinister about it, but Dean can’t will himself to care. Quite the opposite, he almost likes it.

His pupils dilate when you switch the phone to your other ear so that your right hand is free and you stretch it behind your back, your arm contorted in a tugging and twisting gesture till finally something snaps open, literally.

The hook of your bra comes undone and you pull the right strap, the same one you were playing with only mere moments ago, off your shoulder and then repeat the process on the other side.

There’s a second of anticipation, a breath that Dean holds in while he leans forward in the car seat as much as humanly possible so that he won’t miss what’s unfolding before him, and then you remove the cups that laid atop your breasts, uncovering the pert nipples that grow into peaks when subjected to the chill air of the evening.

“Holy shit.” His tongue instinctively pokes out to wet his parched lips, since he seems to have forgotten how to breathe through his nose, taking big gulps of air, mouth agape.

You throw the item of clothing aside unceremoniously, not caring where it lands, a noise so full of content escaping you that it reaches him all the way across the street. You rub at the indents the underwire left where it had been held tightly, your hand massaging the skin around your tits, cupping them from the side, and then letting go, the mounds jiggling freely in the most enticing of motions.

He didn’t think he would get to see you like this one day. Maybe never. He wished for it, longed for it, but he couldn't honestlyenvision it happening. He didn’t think he deserved it. He has daydreamed about it, sure, but not once in this scenario, not with him so far away where he can’t touch you, where he can only look.

The light coming from the lamp in the ceiling shone down on you, highlighting the dips and curves of your physique as you sat on your sofa. Like something out of a fantasy book, you cross and uncross your legs, perched on the pliant pad like a mythical creature, dressed only in your underpants. Like a dream.

The person you were talking to must make some sort of funny remark then, due to the way you proceed to throw your head back in laughter and twirl a finger in your hair, Dean’s eyes following the action frame by frame, entranced in the show. To gaze upon you naked like this is arousing in a whole new way.

It’s uncharted territory.

It’s different from porn.

It’s intimate and real.

Because he knows you. He’s seen you in your casual, everyday clothes, and in your stuffy work attire as well. But to be able to spy on what’s underneath.

To get a glimpse of the lovely, overly polite girl from the dog park; the shrewd, excessively serious therapist that leans back in her armchair and analyzes his every move, his every word.

To see you stripped down to your plain cotton panties and nothing more. There’s a vulnerability to it.

He’s forced to palm his dick through the tough material of his jeans when it stiffens and twitches inside his boxers.

Your hand leaves your hair and falls to your mouth, both index and middle fingers kneading the plump flesh of your lips, countenance lost in thought even as you nod and hum to the individual who called you. The same hand travels to your chest, just above the mass of your breasts, where you draw featherlight circles with the tips of your nails.

You seem to really enjoy the sensation, eyelids dropping till they’re closed, slumping down on the furniture that supports you.

Even as you relax in your seat, your fingers don’t quit their journey downwards, anchoring themselves on a particular patch of skin on the side of your boob. A saucy smile breaks from you, teeth showing while your eyes remain shut and you say something Dean can’t make out.

He has never once seen that look on your face, an impish, mischievous air that he wouldn't have expected from you.

Your arm moves just slightly and you grab your nipple, caressing the tumid, puffy bud with gentle, barely-there touches that become bold and confident once you hear something from the other end that encourages you, that shameless smirk widening on your lips.

Dean feels his entire body tense up, from the ends of his hair to the toes of his feet. A sudden jolt of adrenaline causes his heart to race as he watches in disbelief and confusion. And it takes a while, a little too long, for him to begin processing what is happening.

You are fondling your breast, teasing the tip, letting out a small gasp when a wave of ecstasy clearly hits you and your eyes snap open. You can hardly contain your enthusiastic laugh at whatever your mystery caller tells you and then you move to pinch and tug at your neglected nipple, wiggling on the couch, biting on your bottom lip.

You’re… Giddy. Acting naughty and unabashed, toying with yourself while on the phone with someone.

‘Cause you’re definitely not talking to your sister.

But then who? Who’s the motherfucker you give your time to? Your attention? Your carefree attitude? Your sexed-up, wild side?

Because you’d barely even muster a fucking genuine smile to Dean the last few times you saw him, and for a while, he tried to convince himself that you were not disinterested in him, you simply weren’t interested in anybody.

Well, that’s obviously not the case.

You don’t want him, specifically.

But you do want some other guy. Some other idiot who could never understand you the way Dean does. Never comprehend what it feels like to lose your family, to lose a brother. They could never share that bond with you.

Whoever that asshole is to you, Dean can be more. He’s sure of it.

But they’re the one you’re sighing wantonly for. Breathing accelerating as you let go of your left tit and run your hand down your stomach, inching closer to the waistband of your underwear. Your legs part to give way to your obscene exploration and you rub at your center, fingers carefully contouring the outline of your pussy over the cloth of your panties.

A head-spinning mixture of anger and excitement hits Dean so strongly it gives him whiplash. He has to blink a couple of times to try and wear off his shock, vision shifting from blurry and then to clear again as he fights off this dazed feeling that attempts to consume him.

He just couldn't believe it.

You are pawing at your clit, patting the sensitive button, drawing tight circles through the material of your underwear till a wet spot darkened the shade of the fabric. A puff of hot air leaves your parted lips at the sensations you’re bringing out of yourself.The corners of your mouth rise as you whisper some dirty secret into the receiver.

You are so lewd and indecent, without any inhibitions. All for someone else.

And for how long? Did you know them for a considerable amount of time or were they a random hookup, the type you can flirt and have phone sex with but no emotional connection to?

Either way, you must like them. You must find them alluring and attractive. Probably way more than you found Dean to be since you never so much as gave him a once-over.

Were they good-looking?

Were they interesting or charming?

Were they worthy of you?

No. Of course not.

How could they possibly be worthy of you? How could they possibly deserve your impatient, feverish expression or the broken sob that erupts from your throat as you continue to stroke your pleasure point side to side?

How could they have earned the bucking of your hips when you can’t take the feeling of your damp panties clinging to your throbbing core any longer and your hand makes a move to the hem of your underwear, with the intention of touching under the fabric?

He can’t conceive of it. He can’t wrap his head around this being fair. You can’t choose them over him. You just can’t.

Dean reaches for the cell phone in his pocket with trembling fingers, mind fuzzy with too many emotions that he isn’t able to put in order. Jealousy and envy swirling into an interchangeable spiral. Lust and frustration biting each other’s tails. Disappointment and hope swaying to an eerie ballad as his thumb shakes while it presses your name and then the call button.

He takes note of the moment your device starts ringing, the way you react by pulling your arm away from between your legs, frowning at the unknown number flashing across your screen, and interrupting your ongoing connection.

You exhale deeply only to take a calming breath in, looking irritated, saying something of little importance to the bastard you were conversing with, and then suddenly the tone by Dean’s ear stops, there’s a soft click when you pick up, and the Winchester is overwhelmed by the sound of your voice as it envelops him after what felt like forever.

“Hello?” You greet, putting a hair strand behind your ear.

There’s a pause when all of Dean’s blood rushes to his brain, causing an intense dizziness, and he has to contain the need to gasp audibly for air.

He didn’t think this through.

He didn’t think at all.

He just acted.

The idea of losing you bringing a suffocating pang of despair, a feeling that proved itself to be entirely too great to withstand, and Dean just… Moved, without taking the time to consider the consequences of his actions.

But he had to do something. He couldn't just stand idly by while you were being taken from him. Not that you were ever his, to begin with, but he can still change that. You just need to give him a chance. Which seems unlikely to happen now that he has called your number, the one he isn’t supposed to have.

“Eh…” He doesn’t know what to say.

He wasn’t prepared for this. He didn’t have a game plan or a strategy on how to conduct himself. He hadn’t mapped out how this exchange would go in his head, as he typically does. He hadn’t devised a way to take control of the situation.

“Hey, Y/N.” Was all he could come up with.

You appear to be unsettled for a moment, blinking a few times while you search for a name amongst your friends and family that would match the deep, gruff timbre that addressed you and then you ask.

“Who’s this?” You don’t recognize his voice, and it stings to know that you think of him so little, when he thinks of you sooften.

“It’s, uh- Dean.” Should he disclose his last name, as well?

You knit your brows, and he has to convince himself that is not disapproval nor displeasure that he sees flickering across your face.

“Oh, hi, Dean. How are you?” You fix yourself in your seat, choosing to recline your head on the back of the sofa, elongating your neck, and bending your spine. Your chest sticks out as a result, the artificial light coming from above reflecting on the dewy skin of your exposed breasts, and Dean is rendered speechless for a split second.

“I’m alright. How are you?” He manages to respond.

“Fine.” Your eyes roam the space of your living room in confusion, as if him calling you was the strangest of developments. “Hmm, how can I help you?” That’s a great question. You can stop having phone sex with other people, for starters.

“Y-you know, it’s been a while since we had our last session and I just thought that it might be good to have a chat like, before, just to catch up on everything.” It’s his reply.

He can hear the way he sounds, voice faltering, words coming out rushed. It fills the inside of the car and bounces against the walls before entering his ears, the uncertainty so raw that he cringes at what you, a psychologist, might be able to read between the lines.

“Okay…” You stretch out the last syllable, absolutely not buying what he was selling. “But we only had to reschedule one of your appointments, right?” It sure felt like longer than that.

“Yeah, just the one.” He runs a rough hand down his cheek, rubbing at his mouth in a soothing gesture, his palm meeting the prickly stubble lining his jaw in the process. “I think it’s because it’s been a while since we talked without it being in that setting, and I thought we could have a more relaxed conversation, like the ones we had before.”

“I see.” Your features wilt, expression taking on an exasperated look and you turn your head towards the opposite side of the window, hindering Dean’s view of you, but he could swear he caught a slight row of your eyes. “Dean, I was under the impression that we had already discussed this, and why it’s simply not… Viable.”

“I know.” He said it way too loud, having to make an effort to bring the volume of his next sentences down. “And I get it, I’m a patient and that’s all that I can be, but I just wish that we-” You raise your fingers to eye level, checking your nails for imperfections, not particularly displaying much enthusiasm in your demeanor. He puffs out a breath through his nose, completely out of his element. “That we could go back to being friends.”

“I understand.” You let out an annoyed sigh. “But I need to be perfectly clear with you. Once I became your therapist, there was no ‘going back’. Even if we stopped having our sessions, we still couldn't regain the relationship we had before. You’ve shared deep, extremely personal information about yourself with me, and I have analyzed you as a psychologist. There’s no possibility of me ever not seeing you as a patient.”

Dean takes in everything you say, each statement feeling like a stab in the chest. The little world he had built inside his head, for you and him only, crumbles to the ground as if it was made of sand. Disillusion wraps around his throat and he grips the steering wheel till his knuckles turn white.

“Well, fuck.” You make a displeased sound at the curse word he blurts out, almost making it seem like you weren’t sitting on your couch only in your underpants, but he’s quick to rectify anyway. “I’m sorry. There’s probably no good reason for me to ask what you’re doing Saturday night, then?” He chuckles, making a poor attempt at a joke.

Why did he say that? He knew what your response would be. He isn’t some utterly delusional, socially oblivious, lovesick teenager. At least, he never was before. He used to be the complete opposite. A confident, self-assured lady-killer that wouldn’t be caught dead pining over a clearly uninterested woman.

And now look at him.

Why must he humiliate himself like this? When did he turn into that kind of guy? No wonder you find him pathetic.

“No.” You answered, curtly, and even though you’re unaware that he can see you, you shake your head side to side, only to reinforce the refusal. “I mean, you can ask, but I’m just going to give you a deflective answer.”

A toe-curling embarrassment hangs in the air around the two of you, resembling a strong, overly sweet perfume that refuses to dissipate, and all Dean can think to do is retreat, go home to lick his wounds from this lost battle.

Why did you need to be so difficult?

“Whelp, guess I finally got the message. Loud and clear.” A deafening silence extends itself and he clears his throat, the awkwardness building with it. “See you in a couple days in your office, Y/N.”

“Sure.” You agree, and he’s about to hang up before you stop him. “Wait, Dean-”

“Yes?” There’s so much in that one question. It’s just three small letters, but they mean a lot more.

‘Is something wrong?’

‘Did you change your mind?’

‘One word from you, and I’m yours.’

“How did you get this number?” Is what actually comes out of your mouth and Dean deflates, face scrunching up as he murmurs a quiet ‘shit’. Of fucking course that’s what you would say.

“You gave it to me.” He offers, clean and simple. In his opinion, it’s always best to deliver a short, detail-free lie that can be molded and shaped into whatever fits his narrative.

“I…” You think long and hard for a bit, bringing your right knee up, resting your arm on it. “I don’t remember doing that. Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure. How else would I have it?” He tightens his lips, praying to God that you’ll fall for that.

“Um…” You pause, considering what would be the alternative. If he managed to get a hold of your contact without it coming from you, that would mean that he’s some sort of creep, psycho stalker, and surely, you wouldn't make that low of a judgment about him. “Yeah, you’re right. I guess I did, then. It’s just that this is my personal number, so if you ever feel the need to reach me again, I would appreciate it if you did it through the business one.”

Ouch. You weren’t pulling any punches today, were you?

“Of course.” Dean agrees through gritted teeth, his ego more bruised than his face after a whole round with the Devil. “My mistake.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You crack your knuckles in the same way he often does and the corners of his mouth lift involuntarily. You were made for him. You just don’t know it yet, and he can’t be mad at you for that. “Have a good night, Dean.” You wish, at last.

“Goodnight, Y/N.” It’s the last thing he says before you hang up and the line disconnects.

He stays for a while longer, resting the back of his head in the driver’s seat, fingers anxiously tapping on the dashboard while he waits to see if you’ll call that son of a bitch again. But you only fidget with your phone for a minute or two before you put it down, coaxing a sigh of relief out of Dean’s lungs.

You get up from the couch and make a beeline for your bedroom then, taking time to lightly scratch at your scalp with the ends of your nails in circular motions, finding the sensation relaxing if your hum of delight was anything to go by.

You stop in front of your closet, opening it to fetch a towel from inside. Once you have it in your grasp, you leave your bedroom and walk the short path to your bathroom, closing the door behind you, the wooden barrier blocking Dean’s field of vision.

Dean can’t hear the shower running, but he can see the vapor escaping from under the entrance and decides it’s time to go. He turns the key and the engine sparks to life, the drive to his house in the picture-perfect suburbs filled solely with thoughts of you. He fixates on whether or not you’re accepting of hot showers only, since he can’t stand them. Maybe the two of you could find a happy medium whenever you choose to shower together.

With that image in mind, he can’t fight the smile that creeps on his lips as he parks and exits the minivan after reaching his destination, the first thing he hears upon crossing the entryway being Thor’s excited barks and the familiar sound of his paws on the foyer’s floor when he runs to welcome Dean back home.

“Hey, buddy.” The Winchester kneels down to pat the German Sheppard’s soft coat, allowing a few affectionate licks from the dog to land on the side of his face before getting up again.

“You’re here.” Lisa’s voice announces as she enters the space, eyeing Dean up and down, inspecting him for something that she doesn’t seem to find. “I didn’t know if you were coming home.” He scoffs at her choice of words.

“What is that supposed to mean?” It’s a challenge. He wants her to say what she’s really thinking. He wants her to yell at him, hit him if that’s what she wants to do.

“Ben was asking for you at dinner.” She averts her gaze, a looming melancholy painted on her pretty brown eyes and Dean’s vexation dwindles.

“Where is he?” He asks.

“Playing video games in his room.” She still doesn’t look at him, preferring to find a nondescript spot on the wall to the right of them to focus on.

“I’ll talk to him before it’s time to go to bed.” He tells her, earning a soft ‘hmm’ in response. He waits to make sure the conversation has come to an end, and she folds her arms, hugging her own waist and remaining quiet.

With nothing left to say, he leaves her where she stands, slow-moving feet taking him to the garage. He closes and locks the door behind him, staring for too long at the outline of the Impala that rests in the room, cloaked by a large tarp.

There are wall-mounted shelves littered with all types of tools and forgotten items, and hidden behind all the paraphernalia, he uncovers the box he came looking for.

He plucks it from its secret place and cradles it in his hands, as if it contained a precious treasure. He then sits in the old recliner they put out of service and moved into the garage a few months back, laying the box on his lap and getting comfortable against the upholstered leather.

He lifts the lid of the box, finding his prized collection in the same way he left it. The dainty necklace with a shiny pendant hanging from its chain. The body lotion that emanated a refreshing and pure smell. A pair of your panties, the off-white lacy one that made his head spin. Those were the souvenirs he took from your apartment and now keeps with him.

Prior to tonight, he had only stared at them in fear and wonder. He feared his actions, how far he was willing to go just to maintain even some small pieces of you close to him. But at the same time, he couldn't help but admire the objects with an awe-inspired twinkle in his eyes.

His right hand moved towards your underwear, fingers lightly brushing the delicate cloth, learning how it feels to the touch. The tactile sensation of rubbing the pads of his fingers against the crotch panel of the garment caused Dean’s skin to prickle with an unnerving heat.

You had been wearing plain cotton panties that night, and yet they looked so appealing as they clutched you by your hips and hugged your ass. Dean brought the piece of clothing he was holding closer, inspecting it carefully, raking over the tiny intricacies with his fingertips.

He imagined you in front of him, dressed only in this flimsy little thing. Would you wear lace for him the first time you let him fuck you? Would the material cling to your pussy lips when he got you wet like you were tonight?

No, he could get you wetter. He could ruin you.

He found himself taking the bottle of lotion and setting the box to the side of him, ragged breaths echoing in the quiet of the room. There’s a fire spreading through his lower abdomen, a burst of need he hasn’t felt this intensely in a long while.

His penis twitches in his pants, begging for attention and Dean gropes it with the hand that is still holding your underwear, just grazing it instead of giving it the friction it demands.

He shuts his eyes, and behind his closed eyelids, he envisions you so clearly. Knelt down between his legs, your smaller, soft hand being the one to scrape the surface of the bulge inside his jeans, teasing him mercilessly.

“Look at how dirty you are.” You’d say, an amused smile plastered on your lips. “Dick half-hard and growing while you finger my stolen panties.”

Dean wouldn't dare touch you, lest you disappear before him like a mirage, so he’d busy his hand by bringing the fine lacy fabric he had been caressing to his face, putting it against his nose and, inhaling deeply. Nothing other than a faint smell of laundry detergent fills his senses, but in his mind’s eye, it’s the sweet scent of your dripping cunt that permeates the space around him and makes his mouth water.

“Want you so bad.” He’d pant, whiny and desperate.

“I know.” Your tone would be so condescending, grinning a cruel grin whilst you’d line the span of his member with the edge of your nails and blow a puff of hot air on it, letting your pouty lips ghost over the swelling organ. “You’re such a pervert.”

You’d look up at him with a lascivious glint darkening the color of your irises, weightless fingers working to undo the zipper of his pants before your hand would delve inside his boxers and takes hold of his pulsating length.

Dean would bite into the cloth of your underwear in a laughable attempt to hold in the hopeless moan that you’d coax out of him as you’d pull out his manhood, now fully erect and needy.

“Your cock is so pretty.” You’d utter under your breath, more to yourself than to him. A fascinated look on your face as you’d stare at it from base to glans, eyes glazing over. “I love how flushed you’re at the tip.”

You’d use your thumb to press at the opening of the urethra as your other fingers wrapped around the mushroom head, and Dean would buck his hips and whimper when you’d smear the precum that had gathered there.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re weeping.” You’d coo and suckle at your thumb, eagerly lapping at the taste, releasing the digit with a pop once it was stripped clean of his essence.

Dean’s eyes would widen at how depraved you could be, how absolutely filthy and debauched you were just for him, and his heart would swell with pride and his brain would swim in endorphins.

“Do you want me to suck it? Put it in the back of my throat?” You’d ask without any intention of gaining a response from him, half of your words coming out muffled since you’d try to speak with your mouth full, alternating your attention between laving your tongue on the tender intersection where Dean’s foreskin would be if he hadn’t been circumcised, and stubbornly seeking to close your lips around the middle of his shaft, head leaned horizontally as you’d litter him with wet, open-mouthed kisses.

“I- I can’t.” He’d cry out, the sodden material of your lace underpants becoming saturated in his saliva, falling through his teeth, and landing on the floor when he couldn’t keep his shameful sobs in any longer. “I need you to come here.”

“I am here, silly.” You’d giggle with no real humor and, like the vixen you are, you’d place both your hands on each of his knees and prop yourself up just enough that the divine softness of your tits would rub up against his member, taut nipples grazing the sensitive flesh and causing Dean to grunt, on the verge of overstimulation.

You would've barely touched him, and he would have been reduced to a puddle in your grasp, every nerve ending in his body feeling raw and overexposed.

“No, come up here. Sit on my face.” He’d beg and you would laugh at the broken state of his voice, but still oblige him.

You’d stand up slowly, your bare tits shaking tantalizingly with the movement and catching his eyes, the way your cunny would still be hidden by the same pair of tight, plain panties driving Dean mad.

You’d move closer then, placing one of your knees on each of his thighs and climbing over him with the help of his arms as they moved to grab a handful of your ass cheeks, the soft mewl that you’d try to keep in stealing his breath away.

“This is what you wanted?” Your timbre would be pure venom once both your legs straddled his shoulders and you held on to the shelves on the wall for support, you’re clothed pussy hovering mere inches from his mouth. “This is what you dreamed of, you freak?”

“Yes.” He’d confess and try to force you to sit down properly by pulling at your flanks, but you’d swat his hands away with a condemning ‘tsk’ and he’d crane his neck up, tongue sticking out to get a taste of the cloth that concealed your lower lips but only being capable of brushing against it with the tip of the muscle. “Please.”

“Oh, my goodness, you’re such a brat.” You’d mock his restlessness, holding firmly onto the wooden shelves as a way to prevent him from making further contact with your center. “All whiny and needy for me.”

Dean would moan in ecstasy when you’d gradually lower your hips by a tiny fraction, allowing him to moisten the fabric of your underwear with kitten licks, giving out a lament as he failed to fully wrap his lips on the sweet spot between your legs.i

He would pinch at the skin of your inner thighs, using his big hands to knead the flesh around your vulva, wordlessly imploring you to give him what he craved.

“Drop your weight on my face.” His voice would come out all raspy with yearning, and yet he wouldn’t care. “Please, Y/N.”

As if you were a goddess tired of the constant prayers and supplications that he laid at your altar, you’d take pity on his poor soul and finally sink yourself down completely against him.

The heat of his mouth would immediately envelop your middle as a sob escaped from deep in his chest, and he would start to suck on your clit through the cotton of your panties like a man possessed.

“What a crybaby.” You’d snicker and his ears would heat up in embarrassment, but he would ignore it in favor of nipping at the fabric that would stick to your pussy due to the mixture of your wetness and his spit.

Dean would gorge himself on you like a starving animal, feasting on your addicting flavor as your slick juices overflowed from you. The sloppy suction noises would reverberate in the room, a continuous frantic slurping that went over the line of pornographic and bordered on offensive.

Even through your taunting, he would hear the soft sounds of pleasure that you would try to control. Your whimpering when his tongue would hit your bundle of nerves just right, and your wailing when he would rake the blunt ends of his teeth over the swollen bud.

“Always wanted to do this.” He’d mumble in between the persistent licks of his tongue on you and his dick would throb as a result of its neglect.

With one hand planted securely on the fat of your right thigh, Dean would let the other move to his deprived manhood, taking hold of it from the base and working his way to the leaking head.

At first contact, The Winchester would feel a shock pass through him, a literal electric pulse that would overtake him with a sensation so strong that he’d be forced to cease his ministrations, the skin of his shaft too sensitive with how hard he had been for so long.

“Can’t even jerk yourself off right, can you?” You’d jeer at him, pressing your gushing cunt to his face, grinding back and forth against his open mouth, and rubbing your stiff clit on his nose, cutting off his air. “Should I get over there so I can spit on that dick, make it really wet?” You wouldn't allow him to answer, using a hand to tug on the short hairs in the back of his head just to hear him moan, the vibrations landing directly on your soaked underwear. “Do you think that would even help or you’re just being an attention whore?”

Your cutting words would only serve to make his member grow even harder, pointing straight at the ceiling, length heavy with rushing blood and balls full of cum, spasming with pent-up readiness, standing perfectly vertical and sullying the shirt that covered the skin below his belly button.

He didn’t even know he could feel pleasure this deep, this piercing, so overwhelming that it blended into pain. And he certainly didn’t know that he would like it, that he would enjoy the overstimulation as much as he did the humiliation. Your scornful remarks causing a fire to spread under his collar, your insolence riling him up to a point where all he could think about was taking whatever you so generously gave him.

Yes, he was a dirty pervert and a freak for you, now would you please shut up and cream on his tongue so that he could form a single coherent thought?

Furthermore, the idea of losing the feeling of your sitting on his face — with the ripe smell of your arousal filling his nostrils at every labored inhale, and the heady taste of your wetness that runs down his jaw —, is so unappealing to Dean that his nails would clamp down on the flesh of your thigh where he held it, so that you couldn't move away.

“Please, let me-” He’d mutter and bob his head up and down on your pussy, the grip you had on his hair tightening and eliciting a groan from him at the sting.

He’d take the forgotten bottle of body lotion, using his thumbnail to pry the lid open. Without being able to see what he was doing, he’d blindly coat a considerable amount of the balmy substance on the leaking head of his dick, the cream mixing with his pre as he gently massaged it down the shaft.

With the moisturizer lubing him up, the rough friction of his calloused hand on the delicate tissue of his massive hard-on would be pleasantly reduced, and an animalistic whine would get caught in his throat from the relief that came with stroking his needy length properly, the rumble of it reaching your center and making more of your molten honey to ooze out of you.

“You’re fucking delicious.” He’d tell you, delirious from the unmatched satisfaction of savoring you ceaselessly, watching you undulate your hips when he sucked you just right while he milked the meat of his penis.

“Yeah? You like it that bad? Eating me out just like this?” You’d ask, all breathy and hoarse, eyes crossing and tongue lolling out to wet your dry lips. “You’re are so sick, fisting your cock while your therapist sits on your face.”

Your filthy mouth would spur him on, the flicks of his wrist getting faster and erratic, the obscene wet noises becoming louder as he drank from you, the clean scent of your lotion pervading the air.

“Uggh!” He’d grunt, suckling on your clit in a wild frenzy, hand flapping up and down the shaft of his quivering dick, the two of you tangled in a mess of limbs and fluids, and it still wouldn't seem to be enough.

He’d want more, he’d want all of you. He’d want to mark you in love bites and paint you with his seed. On your pretty face, on your soft tits, on your lovely cunny.

God, he wanted to cum inside you, stuff you so full of him that you’d forget your own name. He’s sure you’d be tight, but he’d stretch you out, mold you to the shape of him. Plant his sticky essence so deep into you that you could never rinse it off, never rid yourself of him.

He would hear you cry out when you reached your peak, euphoria weighing down your bones and turning your brain to mush. That elastic band of tension would finally snap, and Dean would groan as the first ropes of his release would spurt out of him, landing on his lower abdomen and soiling his clothes. He wouldn't stop pumping the span of his cock, nor would he stop lapping at the dripping fabric of your covered pussy, extending your orgasms till the muscles of your calves began to shake.

Once he was thoroughly spent, he opens his eyes to find no trace of your presence. Only the ticklish sensation of the lace adorning your off-white underpants that he’d been pressing to his face, and the light, enchanting notes of your body lotion that he had used as lube.

It had all felt so real that he takes a while to find his bearings, lungs burning as he gasps for air, never once having experienced this intensity of rapture.

He feels damp with sweat, mingled with the smell of sex, and his hands tremble as they rearrange everything back where it belongs. The leather recliner chair, the now wrinkled clothes he wore, and the priceless box of mementos he kept of you.

After all of it is put back in its proper place, he attempts to fix his disheveled hair before unlocking the door of the garage and tiptoeing around the house.

The wooden floors creak under his feet as he walks to the bathroom, passing through the ajar door of Ben’s bedroom and catching the boy fast asleep in his bed. He hears the clinking of glass coming from the living room and he can assume Lisa is downing her daily bottle of wine.

He goes to bed after taking a relaxing shower, the once tense muscles of his back appearing to be loose and reinvigorated. The soft mattress sinks below his weight, even though his body feels like a flowing feather, and by the time he drifts off to sleep, he dreams only of you.

The next morning, he wakes up early, silently getting ready so as not to disturb the sleep of the brunette who occupies her side of the bed. His breakfast is quick, serving as fuel for the busy day ahead, and the drive to work proves to be uneventful.

It’s tedious labor to go about his business on the construction site, with time seeming to stand still as his mind wanders to more exciting places. A vampire’s nest in Manning, Colorado. A zombie case in Greenville, Illinois. Under your sheets, in your warm embrace.

What a shame wishful thinking doesn’t get him anywhere, though. He will never hunt again, the thrill of the job forever lost, traded by the adrenaline rush of endless sawing and drilling. And as far as spending his time anywhere near the strong pull of your magnetic field goes, Dean refuses to give up. He won’t quit that calling.

“Hey, George, can I talk to you for a sec?” As soon as his watch marks 4 p.m., he marches up to his supervisor and asks the question.

“Sure, what’s up?” The balding man looks up at Dean from his clipboard, ceasing his scribbly writing to give him his full attention.

“I’m gonna need to leave a little early, if that’s okay.” In all honesty, Dean would probably go even if it wasn’t okay. He can always get another gig, but what he had to do today couldn't wait.

“Again? It’s the second time this week alone.” George informed him, putting his pen behind his ear with a furrowed brow.

“I know, but Lisa’s mom has been sick and she’s taking care of her, so sometimes I need to pick Ben up from school.” Dean’s face didn’t twitch by a single millimeter, his gaze never wavering as the lies poured easily from him. “You understand, right?”

George flattened his lips in thought, considering the Winchester’s words.

“Okay, but you owe me.” He said eventually, waggling his index finger at his work colleague.

“You got it.” Dean agreed, smiling contently as he removed his safety gear, patting the foreman on the shoulder before making his exit.

He had the route of your apartment committed to memory, parking in that same spot across your street feeling like the most natural thing to do. Only this time, he had no intention of seeing you perform your daily, mundane tasks, having arrived earlier in the afternoon so that you’d still be in your office.

Your place would be free for him to explore, perhaps succeeding in his search for an object that might be linking the ghost to your home. Once he got that, it was a simple salt and burn and it would be done, you’d be safe. This would mean that, technically, you’d have no need for Dean’s protection, for his watchful eye, or his proximity. He could conclude his therapy sessions with you and go back to his life as if you had never crossed his path.

Everything would be the same as it was before, and Dean could busy himself with dog walks where he’d meet no beautiful women, Ben’s little league softball games, silently having dinner with Lisa, and so on and so forth, ad infinitum.

Yeah, no. Now that he thought of it, he wasn’t going to do that. He was not about to shield himself from your light or deprive himself of your incandescent glow. He was like a moth to a flame, and he had no intention of forsaking your heat. He wasn’t that much of a masochist.

With that issue settled in his mind, he turns off his car’s engine, ready to let himself into your space so that he could rid you from not only this danger, but any others that might present themselves in the future, ‘cause he wasn’t going anywhere. Except that before he can leave his vehicle, he catches a glimpse of a shadow moving inside your apartment.

He squints, trying to get a better look at the figure. As it approaches your living room window, the image of a man becomes clear to Dean’s eyes. He had an average build, not particularly tall. Wavy dark brown hair and clear pale skin, apparently also smoker’s breath from the lit cigarette he was holding.

“The fuck?” Dean curses, whispering to himself, utterly confused by who that man was and what he was doing in your place while you were not there. Did you have a stalker or something?

The guy moves around calmly, taking a puff of nicotine from time to time, checking out the portraits on your wall and the family pictures scattered here and there. He puts out his cigarette when he’s done, preferring to throw it out the window than in a bin, which Dean deduces to be because he doesn’t want you to know he smokes. He then pops a mint into his mouth, as if on cue.

He walks to your bedroom, seeing a lonely stuffed animal on top of your dresser and smiling at it, probably finding the fact that you have it as cute as the Winchester does. He opens your underwear drawer and Dean wants to kill him, gaze at the fear in his eyes before they go dark.

How dare he defile your privacy in this manner? Crudely going through your intimate possessions as if he was inspecting an exhibit in a museum. He shouldn't be allowed to set foot in the room where you lay your head at night, where you are at your most vulnerable. The more time passes with Dean evaluating the situation, the more he wants to go in there and permanently remove that piece of shit from your area.

The man lets out a low whistle when he plucks an especially tiny pair of your panties from the drawer, but before he could do anything more, his phone begins to ring.

“Hi, Y/N.” Dean can read his lips when he picks up, clear as day.

He lets go of the garment, putting it back where he found it and closing the drawer, a stupid smile on his lips as he starts to talk to you, but Dean doesn’t pay attention any longer, completely tuning out after that.

His world seemed to collapse around him. The revelation hit him like a tidal wave, engulfing his heart in a hurricane of seething emotions.

So he was the ‘them’ you were masturbating to last night.

Was he your boyfriend? Fiancé? Dean knew you weren’t married and nothing that remotely inferred that you were in a romantic relationship ever came up. Not during his extensive research on you or when he was the one scouring your apartment. Definitely not during the talks the two of you shared.

Or maybe you simply didn’t want to tell him. Didn’t feel the need to. After all, he was nothing but a patient to you. You certainly had no intention of disclosing personal details of your life, let alone invite him to be a part of it.

The guy talks to you for at least twenty minutes, settling at the edge of your bed. He’s all goofy grins and heart eyes, nervously running his hands through his hair every five seconds, as if he was chatting with his high school crush.

Seriously, this is your type? A wimpy little boy that can’t even handle holding a conversation with you? Has he ever even fucked you properly, or did he just whisper some lines he took off the internet in your ear, and had you take care of yourself?

The mere thought of you, the one he yearns for so deeply, involved with that mouth breather sends waves of uncontrollable rage surging through Dean’s body.

No, this can’t be right. You can’t be wasting your time with someone like this. You could do so much better. He will prove it to you.

Eventually, Fuckface says his goodbye and hangs up, pocketing his cell and getting up from your bed. He straightens the coverings and goes to the kitchen, opening your fridge and taking his sweet time examining the items within.

Dean’s eyes drift out of focus, vaguely aware of what was taking place inside your apartment through his peripheral vision, his brain getting caught in a ruminating spiral.

His head becomes a cauldron of uncontrollable dark thoughts, envisioning what he would have to do to set this right. A chilling torrent of murderous jealousy consumed him, coursing through his veins, demanding satisfaction with a dangerous force.

How could you do this to him? Surely you knew you’re the object of his affections by now, he had made that clear to a point where it was just ridiculous, so why let him burn in fury from the agony of betrayal?

Was this what you wanted, to push him perilously close to the edge?

Maybe it was.

Maybe that was exactly what you intended.

Maybe you were just playing a game of cat and mouse, filling his days with your wonderful, radiating aura and then tugging the rug from under him. Removing your sweet smiles, and your dazzling eyes, and your addictive perfume.

Was this your idea of foreplay?

Fuckface decides on sparkling water — of course he does —, retrieving it from the refrigerator and then moving to explore the contents of the cabinets, searching for a glass.

You need this parasite out of your life. Maybe Dean should exterminate it for you.

He’s so lost in that cyclical headspace that he doesn’t see what was happening at first, the sudden appearance of a flashing shape, the sound of glass shattering and a guttural scream snapping him back to reality.

“Help!” The man begs, voice crackling from sheer terror, a grey-skinned specter rushing at him.

Dean doesn’t even blink, instincts kicking in as he spurs into action, grabbing his salt-loaded shotgun and concealing it in his waistband the best way he can. He leaves his car, sprinting across the street and entering your building, running up the stairs to your floor, climbing two steps at a time.

He bursts through your front door, and he would've for sure broken it off its hinges if it hadn’t been unlocked. He walks forward into your living room, the open-concept layout of your kitchen permitting him to see the gruesome scene as it unfolds.

The ghost of Judith McCook, rotting corpse completely naked, long auburn hair caked to her face with endless dripping water, skin unnaturally grey. She hunches over the guy, snarling like a rabid dog and holding him by his neck with superhuman strength.

Water rushes out the kitchen sink faucet, overflowing it entirely, Judith’s death grip keeping his head submerged. He yells, gurgling under the water, thrashing and flailing helplessly. He pushes against the sides of the sink, arms straining as he attempts to get back up with all of his might.

Dean pulls out his shotgun, aiming at the spirit, salt-loaded cartridges at the ready. He has her in his sights, less than five feet of distance between them. One shot and she would dissipate harmlessly for a short time, enough for the man’s life to be spared.

But… He hesitates.

As he stands there, witnessing the life being drained from a man, a moment of bitter truth pierces through the air. The gravity of the situation was palpable, as fate had placed him at a crossroads. His whole existence had been defined by taking down monsters, saving people, but now conflicting emotions churned within him, tearing at his conscience.

The choice before him was agonizingly clear. Prevent the killing of the one who stood in the way of his own happiness, or let him perish and secure his own desires.

In that fleeting moment, he makes his decision.

The allure of you, of his need to have you all to himself, overwhelms any flicker of empathy or compassion that may have remained and Dean lowers his weapon. He doesn’t look away or closes his eyes, not even flinches, a cruel and calculated resolve settled upon him as he just watches.

The guy’s struggle continued for what felt like forever, desperation rooted deep in his bones while his limbs flapped about, moving erratically. With a cold detachment, Dean waited, till eventually it was over. The moment the man died, body standing still, the ghost vanished, flickering lights accompanying her exit.

The weight of Dean’s ruling, having acted as judge and jury, descends heavily on his soul, forever altering his perception of himself and the darkness he didn’t know resided within.

There are no long sighs or second guesses, he just puts his gun back in his waistband, face unreadable as he gets to work. He rolls up his sleeves, careful not to let the water get on his clothes when he moves to turn off the faucet, pushing the limp body to the floor with a thud.

Under the sink, he unscrews the shutoff valve, allowing a steady stream of water to flow from it. Hopefully, when you come home, which should be soon, you’ll conclude that the soaked floors were due to a plumbing problem. Your apartment already has so many issues, according to you, what’s one more?

The sole of his boots crunch some of the broken glass beneath him, and he goes on to methodically clean it all up, flushing it down the toilet once he’s done.

Back in the kitchen, Dean stares at the cadaver with a tut. He’s lying on his back, lifeless eyes perpetually open and mouth agape.

“Dammit.” The Winchester murmurs to himself, mildly annoyed. It has been a long time since he last had to conceal a body and he wasn’t looking forward to it. “Oh, well. I knew the minivan had to be good for something.”

In less than thirty minutes, he has the corpse in the back of his car and is driving away, thankful that you hadn’t arrived home yet. He crosses state lines, leaving Michigan in favor of disposing of the dead guy as far away from home as possible.

He imagines you’ll wonder about the man, maybe even miss him, but it’ll pass. Dean broke his phone and the SIM card, so soon you’ll come to believe that he simply ghosted you, which makes him chuckle at the irony.

Then, you’ll forget about his existence, free to occupy yourself with what really matters, which is building your relationship with Dean. Because that will happen, whether you like it or not.

It’s past seven at night when he comes home, digging graves not being as easy as he remembered. By the time he crosses the threshold of his house, Thor is at his feet, sniffing instead of barking happily, probably smelling death and dirt on him.

“Finally!” Lisa’s steps are hard and so is her voice when she greets him at the foyer, holding a mysterious bag in her hands, rage taking over her expression.

“I know, you’re pissed about something I did or didn’t do, but can you cut me some slack? I had to work late today. I’m gonna take a shower.” Dean rubs the bridge of his nose as he says it, trying to move around her in the hallway to get to the bathroom, but she blocks his passage.

“I sent Ben to sleep at a friend’s house, we need to talk.” Her gaze doesn’t cower under his like it did last night, her grip tightening on the bag she’s holding.

“For the love of God, now, really? You wanna talk right now?” If there were a contest for world’s worst timing he’s sure she’dwin. All he wants to do at this moment is get in the shower and then drag himself to bed, he has to be rested for his appointment with you tomorrow, after all.

“Yes, I want to talk about the fact that you say you had to work late, but I ran into George at the supermarket an hour ago and he told me that he hopes my mom is feeling better?” She answers without skipping a beat, and Dean curses George and his blabber mouth under his breath. “Yeah, he said that you told him you had to leave work early ‘cause she’s been ill, which surprised me, since that’s the first I heard of it.”

“Okay, that sounds suspicious but I-” He begins to try to explain, not exactly sure where he was going with it.

“Suspicious? It sounds like you’ve been lying to my face, Dean.” She interrupts him, her eyes filling with tears, and Dean can’t pinpoint if it’s from anger or hurt, perhaps both. “You know what? I thought that you were going through a rough patch, that you were missing your brother, I even thought that you started hunting again.”

“Lisa-” He tries once more, but she raises her hand for him to stop.

“And to be honest, I would've understood if it was any of those things.” Her voice cracks and fat tears begin to fall down her cheeks. “But then I find this.” She pulls a box out of the bag she’d been holding, and Dean takes a step forward in her direction when he realizes it’s the box.

“What the fuck is this?” She shouts.

End notes: Yeah, Dean, what the fuck is this?? Also, I do not know who might be interested to know this, but the thing that inspired this story the most was a song by Sleeping At Last called Two, I visualized the plot unfolding after hearing it for the first time, which was years ago. Anyway, the chapters are getting way longer and heavier and that makes them a lot harder to revise, so I was wondering if any of you would be so kind to offer your services as a beta to this fic, it would a great help. Just putting it out there.

#spn fanfiction #dean whinchester #dean winchester imagine #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural smut #fanfiction #fanfic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural x reader #pov dean winchester

166 notes · View notes

Last Seen Blogs

stxuxrniolochris

Laura 🫐🚬

0komoii

okomi

lokighost

im a weed gummy for vampires

oliviadivas

Untitled

warpfactornonsense

Space Shenanigans at an Alarming Rate