Tag dean winchester x reader

I’m Not Gonna Say It

Aebli Leave a comment

The Reader has a cold, so Dean takes care of her. Once she’s better, he gives her one last check-up.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: being sick, FLUFF, SMUT, role play, bad doctor puns, oral (female receiving)

Word Count: 1145

Note: I have a bit of a cold this week, and I wanted some fictional care from Dean. I hope you all enjoy this and can take comfort in it if you get sick this winter too. (Cold and fever not required to read this fic, lol.) Tag lists and requests open. Happy reading!

The moment you slipped out of sleep, you knew it was going to be a rough several days. Your jaw hurt where it had fallen open in your sleep, and your mouth was dry. But it was the only way to breath. Because your nose was stuffed solid with gunk. You were not looking forward to Dean’s ‘I told you so’ having not worn a coat on that last hunt. Now you were paying for it.

There was a knock at the door. You moved like a sloth to sit up as Dean eased the door open, looking down at his tablet. “So there’s a possible… what’s wrong with you?” He leaned against the door frame as you avoided his gaze.

You huffed. “Say it. Get it over with.” You let your head thunk against the back wall, bracing yourself. But Dean’s sass never came. Instead, he sat beside you and placed his hand on your forehead. To you, it felt ice cold, but to him, your forehead was overly hot.

“I’m not gonna say it. What I am going to do, is make you a hot bath.”

He ignored your whining and pulled your covers off so he could pick you up. You rested your head on his shoulder as he carried you down the hall. While you stripped, he filled up the tub with hot water and then helped you sit down. He helped you wash, careful around the sore ache in your muscles. Then he dried you off once the bath was done.

Over the next several days, no matter how many times you tried to keep him away from your germs, he waited on you hand and foot.

“I don’t want you getting sick too.”

Dean chuckled, snuggling in close to you. “Doctors don’t get sick.”

You had to admit his body heat felt nice. “Is that what you are? My doctor?” You giggled. “My Doctor Sexy?”

“Hell yeah, I am.”

Each batch of chicken noddle soup was different, so you wouldn’t grow tired of it. Then there were the holiday-themed cookies to spoil you too. He turned your room into a sort of nest where you could nap and watch Netflix. Sam, Cas, Jack, and the other hunters stayed far away from you and gave Dean a wide berth. Just in case. When you shivered with the effects of the fever, Dean brought you mountains of blankets. And he kept you hydrated, routinely reminding you to drink ever drop of whatever he brought you.

You finally woke up from the thousandth doze being able to breathe from both nostrils and feeling better than you had in months. Dean still wouldn’t let you out from under the covers until the thermometer told him your body temperature was back to normal. He sent you off for one more hot shower so he could change your sheets and clean your room. He sucked on his teeth when you came back in only a towel.

“All that work and you walk around this drafty place in that tiny thing. If you get sick again, it’s going to be Sam’s turn,” he threatened. Not that you believed him for a second.

“I dunno. I kind of liked the attention. But there’s just one thing missing.” You stepped closer, bumping your chest with his.

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. “And what was that?” The soft whisper of the towel falling to your feet made him groan.

“I think I need one last check-up with my Doctor Sexy.”

The timber in his voice and the swell of his pupils made you whimper. “I would have to agree. Would you lay down, miss Y/N?” You did as he asked, flushing with excitement. As Dean stripped out of his shirts, you bit your lip. He tapped at your lips with his fingers. “Open up and say ahhh.”

“Ahhh-“

He leaned down, capturing you in a kiss. His hands roamed your body, kneading at your breasts and pinching your nipples. You gasped into his mouth, making him smirk.

“Everything seems to be alright there. Now I you could tilt your head, I need to check your pulse.” He barely waited for you to comply, tilting your jaw with his nose so he could have access to your throat. His hands drifted further down your body, feathering across your stomach. You bucked and whimpered for him to continue, but his touch stayed where it was. “All in good time,” he murmured against your skin. Suddenly he sucked hard on your pulse point, making you cry out. Thus distracted, he plunged one finger into your heat, humming to find your slick.

“Dean-“

“So wet and ready for me, Y/N? Already? But this examination has barely begun.” He moved to lay between your legs, nosing across your abdomen. His arm flashed out to pin your jolting hips after the first kiss to your clit. You keened as he lazily lapped and sucked, making you feel feverish all over again. But in the best way. One, then two fingers later, you trembled with a soft release. Dean kissed his way back up your body, having shed the rest of his clothes.

You giggled. “You’ll catch cold running around in this drafty place with nothin’ on.”

“Good thing I’ve got you to warm me up,” he chuckled against your lips.

You both hissed as he began to sink into you. Dean stilled to let you adjust. When you were ready, you tightened your walls around his length. He understood and began a slow pace that had you puddling into the sheets. In more ways than one. If you thought you were feverish before…. Dean knew every angle and rhythm to take you higher and higher. Your cries and whimpers grew louder, spurring him on. Soon Dean was flushed and shining with sweat too.

“Cum for me, Y/N. Please, sweetheart.”

He added a thumb at your clit to the waves of pleasure, taking you right up to the edge. To send you over, he snapped his hips to yours harder and twisted a bit more until he found your silent-cry spot. Your body went rigid, your toes curled, and Dean hissed as your nails dug into his skin. He followed you down, shouting hoarsely before falling on top of you.

When he tried to move away, you whined and grabbed at his arm.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said. He pulled you into his chest and tugged up the blanket. Then you were both out like a light.

***

When you woke up, Dean was groaning with a scowl. On a hunch, you placed your hand on his forehead.

“Go ahead. Say it,” he mumbled.

You chuckled. “I’m not gonna say it. But I am going to take care of you like you took care of me. Do you want soup or a bath first?”

Never Again

Aebli Leave a comment

The Reader meets a man at a bar, who then proceeds to rescue her from a vampire. How can she ever repay him?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: fluff, vampire (beheading), SMUT, oral (female receiving) angst

Word Count: 1560

Note: Simple indulgence smut. Written for pre-series Dean when he was still hunting with John. Wrote pretty much all of this just for the ending. Sorry, not sorry. Tags and requests open, as always. Enojy!

At a first glance, the man at the other end of the bar was good looking. With a second, he had upgraded to hot. And with a third, combined with his flirting and rumbling voice… he was downright sinful.

“And does the mysterious man have a name?” you asked, finishing your drink.

“Dean. May I ask for yours?”

“Y/N.”

Dean noticed your lack of drink and ran his fingers over yours curled around the glass. “Can I refill that for you?” He was shoulder to shoulder with you now, radiating heat and smelling like oil and something woodsy. He smirked as you snapped out of staring.

“Actually-“

He dropped into a poorly-masked frown.

“I had been hoping to go home. Can you make sure I get there safe?” You looked up at him, cursing under your breath at how his green eyes glowed. And realized how jealous you were of his eyelashes.

“Sure thing.” Like a gentleman, he offered his arm and opened the door for you. Home was within walking distance, but you couldn’t say no to his sleek black ride that purred so beautifully. He pulled up to your place and was about to go leave to get your door, but you stopped by placing your hand on his bicep. Damn, even that felt perfect.

You licked your lips. “I don’t want to say goodnight just yet.”

Dean turned in the seat to face more towards you. “Okay, sweetheart.” He scooted closer and started to lightly trace his fingers up and down your arm. You shivered but angled to him more of your neck so he could continue feather-like over your sweet spot and throat. His touch drifted to your chin, and then his thumb was brushing over your bottom lip. He swallowed hard when your tongue darted out to lick it. You were about to suck it into your mouth when he stiffened up and started to grab something in the back seat.

“What-“

“Stay here.” He cursed as his door creaked loudly. Then he was gone, leaving you in the silence.

It was hard to breathe. Your skin, once prickled with desire, was now prickled with apprehension. Had he grabbed a knife? It couldn’t have been; it was too big. You peeked out the window, hoping to see Dean. From the darkness on the driver’s side to the buildings across the street you didn’t see him.

Instead, you saw a figure standing boldly under a street lamp. And he was looking right at you.

As you screamed, he crossed the street faster than you could process. He came to a stop outside the car, grinning at you. The scream died in your throat as more teeth descended from his gums.

“Didn’t your mother teach you not to play with your food?”

The man… monster turned to look towards the voice. There was a flash of metal and the sound akin to a sharp knife through fruit. Then it didn’t have a head anymore.

Your vision blurred but didn’t go out. Like a movie running on half-speed, you watched Dean drag the body into the darkness of the woods. A few minutes later, an older man showed up and waved Dean away. He came and helped you out of the car and into your home, bolting the door in every way available.

“I knew I missed one, dammit,” he mumbled. “Hope there wasn’t time to turn anyone. No, he was coming for her… because I…” Dean turned and ran his hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, Y/N, I put-“

You wrapped your arms around his waist and leaned up to kiss him. He was too shocked at first to reciprocate, but when he did… he did. His arms tightened around you as your knees wobbled. Soon, your back was against the wall and he was moaning into your mouth. Panting, you both broke away for oxygen.

“Thank you,” you whispered. Shivering, you pressed yourself into his chest. Dean rubbed your back, easing everything inside of you that felt like it was flying apart. Once you had moderate control again, you sighed. “So… vampires are real. And they have a heck of a lot more teeth than Dracula.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah. I’m pretty sure that was the last one-“

“Pretty sure?”

“-but I can leave you my number so you can call if you see anything.” He broke off with a grunt as you pulled out his phone yourself, brushing against his bulge, and typed in your number.

“There. Now when you call me, I can call you.”

“Perfect.” His gaze dipped to your lips, but he hesitated.

You ran your hands under his shirt, mentally thanking whoever made him for their hard work. “Please, Dean. I wanted you before. Now I really want you. I should be terrified right now, but instead, I feel absolutely safe. Here. With you.” Your eyes closed as his thumb ran over your bottom lip again. “Please.”

The kiss he replied with was gentle at first. Then as you gave access to his tongue, it turned hungry. You couldn’t feel enough of him and frantically helped him shed his shirt. He couldn’t taste enough of you, so he helped you out of your clothes too and nipped, and sucked, and licked his way across your body. Your collarbone. Your neck, sucking a dark mark there. Biting the tops of your breasts before laving over your nipples. Then down, down, down your stomach to the top of your jeans. He removed those too. And your lacy black panties after he’d appreciated them.

He groaned against your thighs as you gripped at his hair. Dean continued humming and making sounds that vibrated against your sex. When he curled two fingers into you, he found you slick to the point of dripping. His green eyes caught yours one more time, then he focused on making you scream. Soon, you had a leg tossed over his shoulder and a sore throat. Your supporting knee shook, ready to give out. So, Dean tossed that leg over his shoulder too, pinning you to the wall and bruising you with his grip. He sucked and lapped noisily at your sex, chuckling with pride as a light bite at your clit sent your eyes rolling in your head and your body to quaking.

The world shifted. Dean carried you to your room, needing only a few directions, and then laid you on your bed. Weakly, you reached for his belt buckle. He unhooked it for you, and let it drop with his boxers. Was there anything about this man that didn’t make you want to drool? Nope. Not one inch of him.

“Protection?”

“I’m on the pill.”

Dean crawled over you, capturing your lips once more. Desperately, you angled your body up trying to feel him. His hands pinned your hips to the bed before he began to fill you. One earth-shattering inch at a time. You clawed at his back as he bottomed out. He hissed with your nails in his skin and your walls gripping his cock. When they were fluttering less, he slowly eased back and forth, creating an easy rhythm that was still plenty to take your breath away. Still. You needed more.

“Dean, please-“ you did your best to thrust faster than him, urging him and whining. Your body shuddered and stiffened as he picked up the pace. His thrusts were at a risk of pushing you up the bed, so he pulled you to the edge and stood. With his hands strongly gripping your hips, all you could do was cry out with each pull of your body onto his.

He faltered, heaving to catch his breath. “You feel so good, baby. Come for me, please?” He pulled you down harder, twisting and angling his hips. Though his eyes were closed and his brow was creased, he beamed as you screamed when he found the place he was looking for. He continued to spear that spot until your body had nearly turned to jello. “Just a bit longer, sweetheart. Where do you want it?”

“In me. Come inside me, Dean.”

With a high pitched growl, he did a few thrusts later.

You were still trying to unblur your vision while he massaged your hips. He found the bathroom and a towel he could run under warm water so he could clean you up. Before he could do more, you pulled him into the bed with you, giggling as it took some effort to get under the covers. He fell asleep before you did. Not that you cared. His body was warm where you laid on top of it. But you did have to pinch his nose a bit to get through the light snoring.

Sleep came while you were thinking what it was going to be like waking up next to him.

***

In the morning, the bed was empty beside you. On the kitchen counter, you found a hastily written note.

Y/N, I didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye, but something came up with family and I had to run. When I find my dad, I’ll come back. – D

For weeks you waited for a call. Months later, your lease was coming to an end, and you thought about staying for another year. But life was calling.

You never saw him again.

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @allidoisreadsmut @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @southsidebucky @tinyelfperson @zuni21798

Dean Winchester/Supernatural Tags: @19mmallory @aimee-grace-01 @akshi8278 @ashmonet @bits-n-bowz @bringmesomepie56   @castianityislife02 @castielsbecky   @catackles16 @cookie-dough-lova @dancingalone21   @docharleythegeekqueen @eve05glee @gabbyrogers094   @helloenricanie @idontknow-canyou @its–killing–me  

@juanitadiann @justtryingtogosomewhere @kaemarie23 @kittenofdoomage @lauriz67   @livelovebands123  @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @mein1928 @millie67 @mylostsoul28 @mysteriouslyme81 @peaceloveandplumbots   @sabrinaoctaviagunner @sassy-losechester @savmontreal @sissysalvatore @supernatural-jackles   @temprence-the-real-satan @thedeanwinchesterxperience @theriumking @tinyium @uzum4k1-uch1h4   @valerieshubin @vutdidyousay @windeango67 @emoryhemsworth @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles   @just-another-busy-fangirl  @psychedelictripforkit @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r   

Patience

Aebli Leave a comment

Dean is a meanie and won’t let the reader touch. Well… she did break the rules.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: masturbation, bondage, dirty talk, teasing, overstimulation, forced orgasm, some name calling (slut)

Word Count: 1270

Note: Sorry this is a day later than usual, I haven’t felt like writing much of anything lately. But I feel accomplished with this fic, so hopefully, that will inspire a writing run. Please let me know if you’d like to join any tag lists or have a request. Any feedback super appreciated. Enjoy!

Just a little more. And faster, before Dean got back. You were so close. And so far gone that you didn’t hear him come in.

“Enjoying yourself, Y/N?” He closed the door behind him while you rushed to remove your fingers and cover yourself. “You don’t have to stop on my account.” Pulling the sheet back down, he growled to see how much you were dripping. “Keep going.” He sat by your feet and nodded.

You did as he demanded. And you kept your eyes open, not that Dean’s gaze would have let you close them. The build was short. Release hovered on the edge while you waited for Dean to snatch your hand away to begin your punishment. The orgasm rushed over you. Finally, you let your eyes close.

Dean licked his lips as you recovered. “Did that feel good?”

“Mhmm.”

“Good.”

Cold metal clicked around your wrists, locking you to the headboard. Dean stood up and shed his clothing slow and deliberately. Your mouth was watering long before he was down to his boxers. Much to your dismay, once he had shed those he sat against the headboard and stroked himself. Your punishment became evident.

“No, Dean, please-“

“Ah-ah. There are rules. Who gets to pleasure you?”

“You.”

“Who else?”

“Nobody. Not even me.”

“Good girl.”

Dean shuddered as his thumb swirled around his head, spreading his leaking precum. You bit back a whimper. It was harder not to fight against the restraints. If you were good, really good, maybe he’d have mercy on you. He watched as you battled with your self-restraint.

“See something you like?”

You groaned in answer.

He chuckled and twisted his wrist. Then he rumbled in thought. “I could almost smell you coming down the hallway. Wondered what I’d find. Thought about catching you with your wand, then using it to keep you on the brink.” He gripped the base of his cock with a grunt. “Or If you’d found some other toy. But no. I found the most beautiful sight. You. In all your glory. Glowing. Making those sounds and three strokes short of cumming just on those fingers.”

Now you did struggle. The way his thighs were flexing, he was close. You wanted to taste him, catch it all. He rested a hand on your stomach to calm you.

“I’m not done, we need to practice your patience a little bit.”

He smirked and dragged his fingers up your stomach and between your breasts. “In the split second before I opened the door, I knew exactly what I was going to do to you.” Your skin raised in chill bumps as his darkening tone. “I wanted to touch every inch of you. But only after-“ his breath stuttered out. In dismay, you watched as his release spilled over his fingers and his stomach. Dean took a few seconds to catch his breath. “Only after that.”

Using his shirt, he cleaned off his stomach then offered you his fingers. You opened your mouth but Dean didn’t let you taste. He spread his cum over your lips and your chin. He dipped and took your nipple between his lips, sucking and bringing them to hard peaks. With what remained on his fingers, he spread those across your breasts, massaging them until you were panting. Your stomach flexed under the feathering of his fingertips. It was difficult, but besides a few twitches, you stilled the closer his touch dipped to your core.

“How are your shoulders?”

“They’re good, Dean. Really good. Please-“

“Patience. All in good time.”

His fingers traced back and forth across your abdomen. You bit your lip, just barely tasting him. It was enough to make you hum and to still your jerking, desperate movements. As a reward, Dean curled two fingers into your heat and slowly began stroking you.

“This was something else I planned. Finding that one place-“

You bucked as his fingers scissored you open and found the place that made you gasp.

“Yes, that one. And then I was going to keep going. Keep moving how you like until you cum. And again. And when you’re begging for a break, at least one more time on my cock. How does that sound, Y/N?”

You eagerly nodded and strained against the cuffs.

“Need more than that, sweetheart.”

“Yes, Dean. Please. Make me cum.”

“That’s the idea,” he chuckled. He switched his rhythm from curling to alternating with pumping. His thumb swirling on your clit the whole time. Underneath your skin, you felt the fire start to build even more intense than when you were on your own. It twisted and flowed through your veins, igniting your nerve endings until you thought you could feel every hot particle in the air. Your toes began to curl. Dean’s pants rang in your ears. His gaze branded your skin. Your pleasure may have been his to take, but he gave you everything and more in return.

You weakly cried out. Usually, Dean would have eased his stroking, so you could catch your breath. Usually, he would kiss your skin as you came down. He did not do that. Instead, his onslaught continued. His lips kissed at your stomach before he nipped at your skin. Then they sealed around your heat, sucking and drinking you to another end. Another short-circuiting of your system. Your eyes rolled back in your head and you arched, even under the hand that splayed across your stomach. Then, and only then did he give you a slight reprieve.

Dean shifted to kneel between your thighs. His large hands gripped at your hips, pulling you closer to him and stretching your arms further so you didn’t have room to struggle. With a smirk, he teased his head, one again bright and ready, at your clit making you whimper with the sensitivity. He groaned your name with the push into your pussy. He didn’t stop until there was nothing more to give, and only enough to steal a puff of oxygen so he could start repeatedly slamming into you.

Each thrust made you whimper. Made you sigh. Made you scream and cry out his name. All the while you couldn’t pull or wriggle away. You had wanted to cum. So now you were going to cum. His fingers bruised your hips. His cock speared at your cervix. And his mouth continued to make your blood boil with desire.

“There she is. The slut who takes everything I give her and still wants more. Is this enough for you, Y/N? Or will you need another round in a few minutes? Maybe I could let you taste then. Fill your stomach with cum like I’m about to fill your pussy. Would you like that, Y/N?”

“Yes! Dean, please. Anything you give me. Please. Just don’t stop.” Your phrases fell out in repeating jumbles. “Don’t stop. Please. Dean.”

But he did.

You arched, your body right on the precipice. Denied. But Dean left you to find the key to your cuffs. When your wrists were free he filled you again and weaved his fingers into yours. His hips rolled and thrust, moving the both of you up the bed.

“Cum, Y/N. Cum again.”

Your lungs gave everything they had.

Dean kept thrusting after you came, fighting to his next release. The spurts of cum made your exhausted body shiver. He collapsed on top of you, passing along his body heat.

“Well,” he panted, “what have you learned?”

“Don’t… don’t pleasure myself.”

“Good girl. Any clues as to why?”

“Because you’re so good at it. I just have to be patient.”

“That’s right, sweetheart. My Y/N.”

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @allidoisreadsmut @blondekel77  @chambcrofechocs @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @tinyelfperson @zuni21798 

Dean Winchester/Supernatural Tags: @aimee-grace-01 @ashmonet @helloenricanie @millie67 @its–killing–me @mein1928 @temprence-the-real-satan @mylostsoul28  @sissysalvatore @livelovebands123 @sabrinaoctaviagunner @19mmallory @akshi8278 @bits-n-bowz @bringmesomepie56 @castianityislife02 @castielsbecky @catackles16 @cookie-dough-lova @dancingalone21 @docharleythegeekqueen @eve05glee @gabbyrogers094 @idontknow-canyou @juanitadiann @justtryingtogosomewhere @kaemarie23 @kittenofdoomage @lauriz67 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @mysteriouslyme81 @peaceloveandplumbots @sassy-losechester @supernatural-jackles @thedeanwinchester @theriumking @tinyium @uzum4k1-uch1h4 @valerieshubin @vutdidyousay @windeango67  @bamby0304 @emoryhemsworth @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @just-another-busy-fangirl @psychedelictripforkit @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r @wonderfulwinchestersmut 

Updating my tag lists. There’s plenty of room for url changes and new additions. Just let me know!

Ache

Aebli Leave a comment

The Reader needs some comfort. She finds it in cuddles with Dean and a little bit of time with guns and family.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: loss of a loved one, ANGST, food mention/eating, getting to shoot guns (non-live targets), FLUFF

Word Count: 1000

Note: I’m sorry this is not the smutty thing I wanted to share, but it’s what I needed. And the only thing I could seem to write. I didn’t mean to jip you guys two Dean fics in a row. Hopefully, the next fic will be better.

image

I couldn’t breathe. Everything hurt. Every muscle yearned for release as if from a brutal workout. My very heartstrings ached.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice came before his gentle knock on the door. When I didn’t answer, he hesitated then slowly pushed the door open. “Oh, Y/N.”

Dean kneeled by my bed and pushed the hair out of my face. He grimaced to see how red and puffy it was. I closed my eyes, half hoping he would take the hint, and half hoping he wouldn’t. His hand smoothed across my forehead and down my cheeks, brushing away the wetness there. “What happened?”

How to say it? To say it out loud would make it final. Something I couldn’t change. Or maybe it was final.

“My mother called.” My face grew hot again. Tears I did not want threatened to spill. “I… she…” Breathe Y/N. That’s all you can do. Breathe. “My grandmother. She passed away last night.” My voice cracked. The already soaked pillowcase didn’t do a good job of hiding my face because Dean crawled in beside me.

He pulled me close so I could cry into his chest instead.

“Vampires and demons and monsters. I know how to kill them all. What was I supposed to do against this? Dementia hurt enough. Hearing the same stories over and over again. Fearing the day she would forget me. The stroke took everything else.” My voice shrank to a whisper. “She couldn’t speak a month ago.” The back of my throat hurt but I had to keep going or it would sink deeper and choke me. “But she knew me. She held my hand and squeezed it. She knew me.”

Dean rubbed my back. “She knew you. What about a couple of weeks ago? You never told me…”

“She was asleep.” I puffed a broken laugh. “She kind of looked like the pit mummies I learned about in class. Curled on her side, her hands pulled to her chest. The wrinkles I know… knew.” I thought back to it, my last visit. “I sat there for almost an hour trying to remember what she looked like over the years. My uncle tried talking me out of going to see her. Said I wouldn’t be able to see past how she looked at the end. But I could. Her squinty eyes when she laughed or was trying not to. How her nose would scrunch when she disapproved of what my brother or I was doing.”

He smiled. “I’m glad I got to meet her.”

Again, I laughed. “You were glad to have the Y/L/N breakfast. Nana gravy and Pop’s country ham especially.”

“Not only. I was also happy to hear all those embarrassing stories about you I’d never heard before.”

We shared a laugh, and I took note of how my chest didn’t hurt as much. Still, my skin buzzed. “I can’t lay here all day.”

He grunted in agreement.

“I need something to do. One thing I can complete, start to finish.” He wasn’t going to like it. “I need a case.”

“That’s the last thing you need to do right now.” Dean leaned back enough to look at my face. He thought for a moment. “We have a shooting range.”

“That should work.” I quickly crawled out of his arms and grabbed a flannel. “Let’s go.”

At first, I thought I would shoot a target or two, then maybe crash with a movie to not be alone with my thoughts. But the bunker was stocked. Like super stocked. Handguns of various weights. Tiny boot guns to heavy revolvers. The shotguns were probably the most satisfying. Whole sections of the paper targets were shredded. It matched what I felt like. What I wished I could do to the intangible illness that took my grandmother.

I shot targets for hours. Until my shoulder hurt and the smell of oil and gunpowder were burned into my nose. The smell of baking replaced it.

Dean was nearly comical to look at. The white apron had done nothing to keep flour from covering him up to his elbows or all over his face. To one side, it was a miracle he could still see the computer screen he was using for a recipe. On the counter was a large basket covered with a hand towel.

“Are those,” I gasped, “are those… Nana biscuits?”

He turned, surprised to hear my voice. “Ah, yeah. I, uh, I remembered you said something about filming your grandmother the last time she made her family-famous biscuits. I found it. I wanted to surprise you with a double batch, but it got away from me.” He held up his arms as proof.

There were enough to sink a ship. But the fridge was also stocked with everyone’s favorite jams and jellies. Dean put himself in charge of cooking up bacon while I fried bologna. Sam, when he finally got home with Cas, cooked eggs (scrambled and fried). Cas watched and snuck a biscuit with honey as an ‘appetizer.’

It was home.

After dinner, Cas pulled a few strings and snuck me in to see her heaven. I was there. The memory she was reliving was watching my brother and I play on the porch. It had been eventually closed in and functioned more like a hallway, but the kitchen alcove still had the windows that slid up and down. We were hopping through them, delivering supplies by one of Dad’s old toy covered wagons. She looked… content. Relaxed. Not in pain or searching for lost time. Like Nana.

“Thank you, Cas.” Heaven faded away as he brought us back to the bunker. I landed on the couch next to Dean.

My cheeks were warm again, and my chest ached. But in a good way. I knew it wouldn’t go away for a while. But I would get used to it, like a brick in my pocket. A weight that I would forget about for a while until she would come to mind. But that would be okay. I would be okay.

Masterlist 

Said and Unsaid

Aebli Leave a comment

Intense smut after a case.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: hastily written smut, suit!Dean, some dirty talk, multiple orgasms, fluffy-ish ending, no cut and NSFW (no gifs, just the text is SUPER smutty)

Word Count: 590

Note: It was move-in week, so this is super short. But it’s also very to the point. Enjoy!

Case-forced celibacy was the worst. It made everybody antsy and short-tempered. Mistakes were made. Things were said that weren’t true. Other things were left unsaid. So when those cases ended, you welcomed the idea of not being able to walk for a week.

“Come here.”

You did as Dean told you, stepping to the spot on the floor he was pointing to. It brought you chest-to-chest with him. He was clothed in his suit while yours had already piled on the floor. You hissed as he yanked your head back by your hair and sucked at your neck. He walked forward until your back crashed into your bedroom wall making some pictures rattle. Your hands frantically pulled at his suit shirt, but he batted your hands away. When you persisted, he tossed you onto the bed and pinned your wrists above your head.

“No,” he growled. “It’ll be better if you don’t try to move. Because I am going to make you cum and cum and cum until you can’t move anyway.” He silenced any rebuttal by ravaging your mouth until you couldn’t breathe. His hands gripped at your hips while his bucked. You could feel how hot and hard he was through the cloth. “Y/N,” he moaned against your skin. Rough, nipping kisses crossed down your body as his hands traveled up to your breasts. Those bright green eyes stayed on the placement of your wrists, smirking when you grabbed onto the headboard.

You shrieked. Dean dove int your sex. He lapped and sucked and hungrily did everything in his power to make you arch off the bed. His hands abandoned your breasts to control your thighs. He kept them from clamping around his head, spreading them as wide as your sore muscles could handle. Dean growled into you as you begged.

“Keep talkin’, Y/N. It’s the only voice you’re going to have for a while after this.”

Already he was making good on his promise. You were crying out when Dean curled two fingers into your heat. Whimpers. Screams. Mewling. Groveling. He wanted it all. And he took it all in exchange for mind-blurring pleasure. By the time he was crawling up your body again, you had come at least three times and you could barely feel your legs. At some point, he had shed his shirt and you could see his sweat-glistening muscles from under lidded eyes.

The sound of his zipper brought you back from faded consciousness.

A wrangled puff of air was all you could give as he thrust into you in one breath. You held onto the headboard for dear life as Dean fucked you as hard as you needed it. As desperately as he needed it. The headboard thumped wildly against the wall. Skin on skin was occasionally overcome by Dean’s grunts or your hoarse screams. Your body was raging. Your toes, fingertips, and nipples were cold. Dean’s eyes were still watching you. Blazing and intense enough to make you come at his bidding. He fell forward and took your hands, bringing you almost nose to nose. His eyes finally closed while his hips stuttered.

You were crushed under his weight, not that you cared. Your hands were your own once again. Dean gasped as you clawed down his back and flexed your walls, not that he cared. Neither of you cared what had been said or unsaid during the case.

“I love you,” Dean murmured against your skin.

“I love you more,” you hummed back.

That was the only thing that mattered.

Masterlist 

Tag lists and Requests open!

Tags under the cut: 

Forever Tags: @allidoisreadsmut @blondekel77 @chambcrofechocs @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @tinyelfperson @zuni21798

Dean Winchester/Supernatural Tags: @aimee-grace-01 @ashmonet @helloenricanie @millie67 @its–killing–me @mein1928 @temprence-the-real-satan @mylostsoul28 @sissysalvatore @livelovebands123 @sabrinaoctaviagunner @19mmallory @akshi8278 @bits-n-bowz @bringmesomepie56 @castianityislife02 @castielsbecky @catackles16 @cookie-dough-lova @dancingalone21 @docharleythegeekqueen @eve05glee @gabbyrogers094 @idontknow-canyou @juanitadiann @justtryingtogosomewhere @kaemarie23 @kittenofdoomage @lauriz67 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @mysteriouslyme81 @peaceloveandplumbots @sassy-losechester @supernatural-jackles @thedeanwinchesterxperience @theriumking @tinyium @uzum4k1-uch1h4 @valerieshubin @vutdidyousay @windeango67

@bamby0304 @emoryhemsworth @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @just-another-busy-fangirl @psychedelictripforkit @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r @wonderfulwinchestersmut 

Lessons from Jude

Aebli Leave a comment

When a cursed piano needs playing, the Winchesters find out more about the reader than she wanted them to know.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: secrets revealed, half-mention of loss of family, Supernatural-normal violence, SMUT, some spanking, FLUFF, implied further smut

Word Count: 2040

Note: Saw a cute prompt and came up with this hot mess. One of my more sensual smut writings. Reblogs and comments are fantastic ways to let me know you liked it. Tag lists and requests are open. Please enjoy!

“It’s just a hunt, Sam. I don’t need to learn to play the piano.” You stormed into the library. “Besides, where are we going to find a piano?” You turned to glare at Sam, closely followed by Dean. “Is there one hiding in the bunker?”

Dean pursed his lips. “Um, actually-“

“You can’t be serious.”

He shrugged and nodded his head for you to follow him. He led you to a back room that you could have sworn was filled with more shelves and boxes and dust.

“Sam was looking for some files, like we do, and while I was going through this room,” he opened the door and let you walk in first. “I found… yeah. Cleaned her up.”

It was a baby grand. Dark wood with a healthy shine. Gracefully carved legs. The golden inlays on the backboard caught the light. Under the fall were ivory keys slightly yellowed with age. You ran your fingers over them, smiling at the clear notes they sang with.

“She’s beautiful.” You sat down and looked over the music on the stand. Fur Elise. “Dean, I don’t know.”

He sat down next to you. “You won’t have to play much.” He bit down on his bottom lip and swallowed. “I… I could teach you. Just enough for the hunt.” He waited for your response, but it was caught in your throat. “If you wanted too. I mean, there’s always YouTube, or there’s an app for everything.” He waited with baited breath as you tried to keep your breathing even. Dean sighed and moved to leave.

“No, Dean, wait.” You licked your lips and tried to find the words. “I would… um… appreciate it if you could teach me a little.”

“Sure. Great.”

“Great.”

Sam stood watch by one door. Dean stood at the other. You were by the bar, nursing a whiskey on the rocks, drinking away your nerves. The piano sitting a few feet away was cursed. But, in a good way? If the person played what the piano apparated onto the rack, then any children of Eve (ie. monsters) would lose their ability to hide their forms from hunters, or anybody. This had led to a string of murders of pianists, in various ways meaning various monsters. Usually, the artists had been killed before the show before music could be played, but the last had been killed during an evening party. Her sister had helped get you as the replacement.

And now you had to play and hope that the guys could spot the monsters before they got to you.

Your employer for the evening gave you the signal. You walked up the few steps and sat on the bench. Under your breath, you cursed. The music on the stand changed from Fur Elise, what the last victim had been prompted to play, to Sonata Pathétique. Dean had skipped lessons on reading notes and had gone straight for memorizing the keys to play. You didn’t know this music. You shared a look with him, letting him know the situation.

All eyes were on you. They felt like icicles colliding with your skin from all directions. So, you took a breath.

The Winchesters almost forgot to watch the room as you played. Your hands glided across the keys, filling the room with the mournful tones dancing across the pages. It had been a while since you had to read sheet music, maybe it was like riding a bike, maybe it was the piano. The pages turned themselves, keeping up perfectly with your hesitant-to-practiced tempo.

Dean was so enraptured that he almost missed the vampire standing right next to him. Sam saw the teeth lower out of the man’s gums before either the man or Dean had noticed. When the shifter behind the bar began to shed his skin, the room suddenly emptied with screaming and plenty of pushing and stumbling. You kept playing, keeping the monsters visible. A few of them seemed surprised to see each other. The longer there was music, the less proportionate the room became between hunters and hunted. Thankfully during the bunker’s piano room cleaning, Dean had found a bomb-like item. The pages faded away and you dove behind the piano while the brothers hid behind the bar. When the dust settled, that was all that remained of the creatures.

“It was a shame we had to leave the piano,” you mused, dropping your heels on the library desk. Dean had called some other hunters with a large cursed object storage. It was probably never going to see the light of day again, much less be played. “It was such a beautiful instrument.” Sam went on a mental tangent, wondering if the piano in the bunker and that one were sisters. He left to do research. You cracked your knuckles and avoided looking at Dean.

“How long?”

“Hmm?”

“How long have you known how to play?” Dean’s voice wasn’t hard. Or teasing. More… confused.

You braced yourself on the table. “My mother taught me. I was about to have my senior concert when… I haven’t even looked at a piano since then. Until the other day.” You flinched, surprised when Dean laid his hand over yours. His fingers lightly pressed on your fingernails like he had to ‘teach you.’ “I didn’t mean to hide. I didn’t think I could do it.”

Dean stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist. “But you did.”

It was getting harder to breathe. To think. “It must have been the piano. It knew, Dean. It knew my last recital piece.” He tensed behind you as what you said registered. “We got the monsters, though. That’s what matters.”

“We did.” He sighed. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” He kissed your temple and went to step back. You stopped him by entwining your fingers in his. “Sam’s going to be back in a minute.”

You chuckled. “I doubt it. Research?” You turned to face him. “That could take all night.”

He nodded in agreement. “True. But there’s something I wanted to do first.” He took your hand and took you back to the piano. Before you could sit down, he fumbled around in the bench and found some music. “Close your eyes.” You did and let him guide you to sit down. His shoulder bumped into yours as he joined you. The first few notes he played confused you. By the chorus, you recognized Hey, Jude. Dean started singing on the second stanza.

“Hey Jude, don’t be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, then you begin to make it better. And anytime you feel the pain, hey Jude, refrain. Don’t carry the world upon your shoulders. For well you know that it’s a fool who plays it cool, by making his world a little colder.” You opened your eyes for the nahnah’s and saw him looking at you with a small smile. “Hey Jude, don’t let me down. You have found her, now go and get her. Remember to let her into your heart. Then you can start to make it better.”

You joined in for the nah’s and the yeah’s and the ‘hey Jude’s’ that filled up the rest of the song. Dean really got into it and sang the high shouting yeah’s like he was in the recording studio with the Beatles. You smiled and laughed, encouraging him to get wilder with it. By the time he finished, his lips were close to yours and your heart was thundering so heard you could barely feel it.

Dean lightly tapped the tip of his nose against yours. His shallow breathing puffed over your lips. You closed the last distance between you before either of you could change your mind. Everything you didn’t say over the years went into that kiss. It felt natural, giving it all to Dean. To have him listen in such a way where words weren’t needed, and to tell you in the silence that if you ever found the words that he would be there too.

Fingers fumbled with buttons and layers until your fingernails could rake down his torso and leave tiny red welts behind and he could do the same all the way down your back. He reached up under your skirt and made you buck when his fingers brushed over the soaked fabric covering you. You moaned into his mouth as he pushed it aside and began to stroke you, thrust into you, and open you up. Both of you were quickly covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He kissed across the curves of your face down to the hollow of your throat while he thumbed at your clit. You lost sight of his bright green eyes as your thighs tightened around his wrist, shivering and sending ripples through your body.

You closed the cover over the keys while Dean pushed down his slacks and briefs. His fingertips dug into your skin, controlling how fast you sank down onto him. It was a slightly awkward position, straddling him on the bench while he leaned back against the piano, but you were too focused on bringing back the earlier high to care.

He groaned as you tugged on the short hairs at the base of his neck. You whined, begging him to let you move but he adamantly held you down. He chuckled as you pouted against his lips. When you wouldn’t let him in, he smirked and gave you just enough of a thrust to make you gasp. He swallowed your cries as he continued to hold you right where he wanted. Finally, he had his feet planted firmly enough on the floor. You gripped his shoulders tightly for stability while he gave you what you wanted.

The edges of the bench dug into your shins, but you didn’t care. The room was stuffy and if felt like every particle of dust was collecting on your skin, but you didn’t care. You could tumble onto the floor at any second, but you didn’t care.

Dean could take you on the floor if he wanted too, as long as he kept moving.

Soon you had control and was bouncing with reckless abandon. Your eyes were heavy, and you fought to keep them open, so you could watch Dean. His lips were parted, panting, and perfectly pink like the tint in his cheeks. Your skin was probably equally flushed. To you it felt like ice, so cold it burned and sparked where ever Dean touched you. You jolted again. His touch trailed down your stomach, bypassing your sex to cross over your thighs and work back to your ass. You yelped shortly after the loud crack. Dean sputtered as your walls clamped down on his cock.

“You like that, Y/N?” He gasped and pressed his forehead into the valley of your breasts as you squeezed again. “I’ll save that info for later.”

“Please…” you begged. You reached down towards your front, but Dean beat you to it. Stars spotted your vision. You were so close. So. Close. The ringing in your ears barely let you hear what he was saying.

“Let go, Y/N. Cum for me, darling.”

With a short scream, you grappled at any of Dean that you could reach. He quickly followed you, pulling out to shoot onto your stomach. Some landed on him, dribbling down his soft stomach as it flexed. He waited for you to catch your breath before helping you off his lap to sit beside him.

You wanted more, whether your body could take it or not.

“When do I get round two?” you hummed, bringing Dean’s hand up to eye level and intertwining your fingers.

“My room or yours, sweetheart?”

“Hmm. Shower. We’re both sweaty and dusty.” You tried once to stand but almost fell over. “Then I’ll pick.” You braced yourself on his shoulder while your legs wobbled underneath you.

He chuckled at the sight. “I’m just going to get you all sweaty again if that’s what you want.”

“Deal.” You grabbed your clothes off the floor and stopped at the door. “Are you going to help me conserve water?”

“Hell yeah.”

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @hallemichelles @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @ramblingsofabourbondrinker @savmontreal @tinyelfperson @zuni21798

Dean Tags: @19mmallory @aimee-grace-01 @akshi8278 @ashmonet @bits-n-bowz @bringmesomepie56 @castianityislife02 @castielsbecky @catackles16 @cookie-dough-lova @dancingalone21 @docharleythegeekqueen @eve05glee @gabbyrogers094 @helloenricanie @idontknow-canyou @its–killing–me  @juanitadiann @justtryingtogosomewhere @kaemarie23 @kittenofdoomage @lauriz67@livelovebands123 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @mein1928 @millie67 @mylostsoul28 @mysteriouslyme81 @peaceloveandplumbots @sabrinaoctaviagunner @sassy-losechester @savmontreal @sissysalvatore @supernatural-jackles @temprence-the-real-satan @thedeanwinchesterxperience @theriumking @tinyium @uzum4k1-uch1h4 @valerieshubin @vutdidyousay @windeango67 

Supernatural Tags: @bamby0304 @emoryhemsworth @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @just-another-busy-fangirl @psychedelictripforkit @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlovebug @vvinch3st3r @wonderfulwinchestersmut 

A Sunbeam Morning

Aebli Leave a comment

deepdisireslonging:

A lovely wake-up call for Dean.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: Hand job, oral (male receiving, implied female receiving) implied later smut

Word Count: 508

Note: Happy Smut Appreciation Day! At first, I wasn’t going to write anything since I’ve planned another Dean post to come out later this week, but then this hit me. I highly recommend reading while listening to this Ambient Mixer.

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You woke as Dean shifted next to you. He continued to snore lightly, something that made you smile. He always denied that he snored.

Morning was starting to break through the curtains, blinding the spot over your pillow. You curled into his chest, hoping it would block out enough of the light. It was dark, but also close enough for you to feel other things in greater detail. Like the stiffness presently pressed into your stomach. You suppressed a giggle as he draped an arm over you, keeping you from moving too much.

You could have fun with this.

Keep reading

Valentines Reblog!

All Wet

Aebli Leave a comment

A rainy hunt ends with a hot shower at home and relaxed sex.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: language, canon violence, fluff, SMUT

Word Count: 1390

Note: Something to warm us up while it’s cold outside. Please let me know if you liked it with comments and reblogs. I really appreciate feedback and it encourages me to write more. If you like my style, both my requests and tag lists are open. Now, please enjoy!

“Seriously,” Dean shouted at the sky. It was roiling with dark clouds and rumbling. A few seconds later you were both drenched in the downpour. “Son of a bitch! If I didn’t hate this case already-“

You left Dean to his grumbling and continued searching the woods for the shifter. It had been attacking campers. Your ears were filled with the static of water hitting wet leaves and soggy undergrowth. The rain was coming down so hard, the leaf cover did nothing to help. You could barely see five feet in front of you. Bursts of winds chilled you to your bones. Your shivering almost made your vision blurry with the vibrations.

“Dean?” you called out. “Can you see anything?”

“He can’t see much of anything at the moment.”

The shifter gripped your shoulder and sent you flying into the closest tree. Faster than you could recover, she had your arms bound in a rope that kept them spread out around the trunk. Through the rain, you could see she wore a jacket similar enough to yours that Dean or Sam wouldn’t notice. You were thankful for the curtain of precipitation as she shed the last of her former skin and took your form. It sickened your stomach to see your smile stretched back into a smirk.

“I’m sure by now my husband has borrowed your partner’s form to find the third one. Sam, right? Dean is going to watch his brother die, and then I’m going to kill him as you. Oh!” She gripped her chest as you strained against the ropes. “I felt that. Ah, he’s your… good to know we will be preventing any baby hunters from coming after our future generations.” She twisted away from you towards a shout from back the way you came. The rain static was so loud you couldn’t identify whose it was. The shifter laughed in triumph and ran off towards the noise.

You wanted to call out to either Winchester, but you also strained to hear anything else. A shout from you might help the shifter’s charade. If you could hear when she arrived, maybe you could alert the guys it wasn’t you.

Boots on wet dirt came towards you and a Dean-like figure came into view. His face was splattered with blood. You struggled against the ropes.

“Y/N! It’s me.” He came close enough to you could see his eyes. They were wild with the hunt but also filled with a gleam that could only be him.

“How’d you get loose?” you asked as he cut you free.

“Sam showed up too early for the husband to take me out. I got the wife when she tried to attack Sam.”

“And none left for me. Some ‘love of my life’ you turned out to be.” You failed to keep a straight face through your chastisement.

Dean mirrored your smile and wrapped his arms around your waist. “I know. You just despise me. I wonder if Vegas Elvis does divorces too.”

You poked him hard in the chest. “Don’t you dare. Annoying as you are, you’re stuck with me and no amount of Dean-shenanigans is going to get rid of me.”

Dean laughed and held your hand on the way back to Sam. “Since when do you say ‘shenanigans?’”

Sam was just finishing up with the bodies when you regrouped. He took their car to town to tell the local sheriff what happened and to pick up the extra car from the bunker. You and Dean headed back straight from the woods. The case was one of the few ones that happened close to the bunker, only a few hours away. You slept for most of it, even though you offered to trade with Dean if he wanted to rest. He woke you by shaking your shoulder gently.

“We’re home, sweetheart.”

He led you to the shower and helped you out of your damp clothes. The mirrors were soon fogged with steam that flushed your skin and made you want to melt. The water cascaded off of Dean onto you as he stood directly under the shower head. Your own Winchester waterfall.

It started out innocently enough.

You were spreading soap across his chest while he was doing the same to you when your thumbs flicked over his nipples. He gasped a little, then passed the sensation along to you. It became a game. You ran your hands up his shoulders so you could play with the short hairs on the back of his neck. His hands sank down to your hips, then around so he could squeeze your ass. Each tug or squeeze caused a moan or sound of delight. Dean’s eyes, newly wild with desire, raked over your form as you leaned in to nip at his chest. You watched his lips as they descended to your neck to gentle suck at your sweet spot.

“Dean,” you sighed.

“Yep.” He turned off the water just as it was beginning to get cold. He wrapped you in a fluffy towel and played with a water droplet on your nose. “You’re all wet.”

You hummed in agreement. “Maybe you should warm me up so I don’t catch a cold.”

Next thing you knew you were over his shoulder and bouncing down the hallway to the bedroom. You gave his still naked ass a light tap as he made it to the door. He dropped you and pinned you against the outside.

Dean let out a low growl as you let the towel gather at your ankles. It stayed in the hall while he backed you into the room, kissing you and feeling your skin under his hands all the way. He kept moving you back until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and you fell back. Dean leaned down to kiss up your stomach. He worked up to your collarbone and then back down to one of your breasts. He blew gently on the bud, hardening it further in arousal. He latched his lips around it, even as you backed up further onto the bed. By the time you made it to the pillows, Dean had shifted his attention to the other one, while palming the first. He smiled against your skin while he listed to you pant. You whimpered as he pulled away.

Your whimpers collapsed into mewls as his fingers danced up and down our thighs before collecting some of your slick.

“Hmm, still so wet. Guess I need to continue to warm you up.”

Within a few strokes and curls and the addition of a second finger, you were bucking to meet his movements. The remnants of the shower had been replaced with sweat, on you and Dean. For while he worked you, you worked him. He shuddered when you twirled your thumb around the tip of his cock. He fucked you faster with his fingers, spreading your arousal up to your clit. His hips jumped as you gave his length a tight squeeze.

“Please, Dean. Need you.” You batted his hand away and guided him into your heat.

You arched with a cry as he snapped his hips forward to bottom out. You continued to cry out, begging for more as Dean kept a languid pace. You raked your fingernails down his back. Moaned loudly into the kiss you gave him. Contracted your walls. Anything to make him move faster. With that, he finally took your wordless plea and snapped his hips to meet your bucking ones. Dean’s grunts in your ear sent you tumbling over the edge, pulling him with you with your walls clamped hard around his length.

He pulled out and helped you settle to lay your head on his chest. You traced invisible designs into his skin as your eyes drooped.

“We almost need another shower,” Dean murmured into your hair.

“Sam will complain if we take all the hot water.”

You convinced him to get ready for bed instead. Pajamas found. Hair combed. Teeth brushed. Dean gargled until you giggled. You kept brushing against one another during the night routine up to spooning under the thick blankets. Dean’s arm wrapped possessively around your waist, and his chin rested on your shoulder. You curled your fingers in his, then fell asleep, warm and protected.

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @savmontreal @zuni21798

Supernatural/Dean Winchester Tags: 

@ilostmyshoe-79 @jensenandjaredintheimpala @jpadjackles @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r @19mmallory @aimee-grace-01 @akshi8278 @ashmonet @bits-n-bowz @bringmesomepie56 @castianityislife02 @castielsbecky @catackles16 @cookie-dough-lova @dancingalone21 @docharleythegeekqueen @eve05glee   @gabbyrogers094 @helloenricanie @idontknow-canyou @its–killing–me @juanitadiann @justtryingtogosomewhere @kaemarie23 @kittenofdoomage @lauriz67 @livelovebands123 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @mein1928 @millie67 @mylostsoul28 @mysteriouslyme81 @peaceloveandplumbots @sabrinaoctaviagunner @sassy-losechester @sissysalvatore @supernatural-jackles @temprence-the-real-satan @thedeanwinchesterx @theriumking @tinyium @uzum4k1-uch1h4 @valerieshubin @vutdidyousay @windeango67 

Supernatural Masterlist

Aebli Leave a comment

S = Smut     A = Angst   F = Fluff    AR = Answered Request

Dean Winchester

  The Pointy End (S)

  Love Like Lightning: Part 1 (S) : Part 2

  Marvelous Night for a Rain Dance (S)

  Bullets and Cream – 007 AU (S)

  More Than Usual (Period Pains, AR)

  Your Mother is Going to Kill Me (F, implied S)

  What’s Your Favorite Position? (S)

  Simple Demon, Simple Pleasures (S)

  And It’s Midnight (S)

  All Wet (S)

  Lessons from Jude (A, S)

  Three Birds with One Stone (S)

  Said and Unsaid (S, drabble)

  Ache (A, F)

  Patience (S)

  Never Again (vamp attack, S, A)

Sam Winchester

  Deep in the Archives (S)

  Need a Lift? ( SPN Fluff Appreciation Day 2017)

  Quiet (S)

Castiel

  Satisfied (S, imagine)

  Spell-Bound (S)

Casifer

  Forbidden Fun (S)

Other (Original Works and Series)

  Supernatural Fic-Contest Submission: A Spirit Flying Free

  Supernatural Smut Apocalypse 2017

  SPN Angst Appreciation Day 2017: The Pain of Return

  SPN History Challenge: A Werewolf in Whitechapel

  Boxer!Dean AU: Consequences (Series)

        Y/N gets dragged to a boxing match by her friends where she meets Dean  “Raisin’ Cain” Winchester, a boxer who is forced to win or lose depending on how much money his bosses want to make in matches. Can their combined effort break the fixed boxing ring?  [Series Masterlist] 

And It’s Midnight

Aebli Leave a comment

The Mark keeps Dean awake again, so the reader does her best to take his mind off it.

Pairing: MOC!Dean x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: bit of angst, SMUT

Word Count: 1360

Note: Its finals where I am, so have a study Dean to help you relax at the end of your tests. As always, comments and reblogs are appreciated. Tags and requests are open, and I will have time to do some real work now that winter break is upon us. Enjoy!  

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When you reached back for Dean, he wasn’t there.

For a split second your mind raced with every worst-case scenario you had ever thought of. Leaving the life and you all in one night. Getting taken by some monster looking for power or a bargaining chip. The Mark taking over.

You took a deep breath. Opening your eyes in the darkness, the door was open and you could see the faint glimmer of light coming from the library. You wrapped a blanket around you and followed the glow to find him.

Dean was slumped over a lore book, one hand on a bottle of beer, and the other stretched out enough to where the Mark peaked out from under his robe. His eyebrows were almost touching. His green eyes, pale in his fury, darted back and forth across the page. You knew it wasn’t there. The information how to remove the Mark. He knew it wasn’t there. “But maybe we missed something” was always on his mind.

“Dean?” Your soft voice carried quickly, startling him. “Shh, it’s just me.” Your feet thumped across the wood flooring as you came to stand behind him. Dean leaned back into your touch as you worked your hands under the collar of his robe and began to massage his neck.

“You should be asleep,” he mumbled. He sounded so… broken.

“So should you.” You reached down for his hand and tugged it with you as you took a step towards the hallway. “Come back to bed.”

Dean twisted his wrist out of your grip. “Won’t do any good. Go back to sleep, Y/N.” He turned back to the book and seemed to forget you were in the room.

You stood there for a second, hovering between taking his suggestion/order and coming up with something to get his mind off the Mark. “You have an idea,” your brain provided. Now wasn’t really the time. It’s the perfect time. It’s midnight.

“Hey, Dean.” Your voice sounded stronger than you felt.

Dean’s jaw dropped as you dropped the blanket from around your shoulders. Sleeping in the same bed as Dean was like living with an electric blanket, so there was never a need for clothes.

“And if my memory serves me correctly,” you walked over to him as he scooted his chair back, “this is your favorite robe for a reason.” With a gentle tug on the sash and a flick of the wrist, you opened up Dean’s robe to find that he wasn’t wearing clothes either. Your tongue dashed out to wet your lips. “See something you like, Winchester?” Dean let out a shuddered breath as you ran your finger up his aroused length.

“Sweetheart, I was ready for you the moment you walked in the room.”

The question was out before you thought it through. “Then why didn’t you come to bed?”

Dean looked away. His arm with the Mark tensed and he gripped the armrest till his fingers were white. “I… I don’t want…”

You pushed the robe off his shoulders and down his arms. “You’re not going to hurt me, Dean.” You bent your knees till you were sitting on his lap. He still wouldn’t look at you, so you kissed along his jawline until his mouth found its way to yours.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Everything.”

Your heart began to beat wildly in your chest as he gripped your waist and kissed you harder. Rushed. Hungry. Needy. His length was trapped between you, radiating heat that igniting inside you a need of your own.

Dean ignored your squeak of surprise as he stood with your legs wrapped around his waist. You helped him scoot the book and beer out of the way, uncaring of any noise that might wake Sam. Dean sank to his knees despite your efforts to stop him.

“I’m supposed to be helping you,” you rasped.

Dean nuzzled his nose to the inside of your thigh. “Trust me, this will.” He kissed the top of your mound, just above your clit, then began to meticulously take you apart.

In another life, if Dean Winchester had been an incubus, he could have ruled the world. Even as you held your hand over your mouth to silence your moaning, the obscene slurping and lapping coming from Dean echoed through the library. Your knuckles were white where you gripped onto the table. A warm haze settled over you. He was taking it slow, but this only heightened every sensation. Where his fingers dug into your thighs, there would be bruises in the morning. The blue and purple marks would make him fret, but you would wear them like badges of honor. Not that you could think that far in advance at the moment. The twist and playfulness of his tongue in your pussy was draining all thoughts from your head except one.

Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean. Dean.

“Keep calling my name like that, Y/N, and I won’t make it to the main event.” Dean chuckled and made you gasp as he curled two fingers into your heat. His other hand snaked its way up your body, laving trails of icy fire in their wake. With him half stretched over you, you couldn’t thrash or buck up to meet his face. A loud keen fell from your lips as Dean began to play with your breasts. He alternated sucking lightly on your clit and running his tongue along next to his fingers.

“Please. Please. Please,” you chanted, finally finding the strength to curl your fingers into his hair.

Dean growled. He sucked hard on your clit and pistoned his fingers in and out of you. Then he was on his feet, kissing you as you screamed into his mouth. He prolonged your orgasm into another as he continued to pump and curl his fingers over your sweet spot. Dean chuckled as you melted into the table. You caught his arm and rubbed your thumb over the mark. His skin prickled under your touch.

“Don’t go.”

You ignored the dark circles under his eyes. The seemingly permanent crease in his brow. The heavy droop in his head. You fought to keep your eyes open so he could see everything you couldn’t say out loud in them.

He broke the gaze but nodded. You leaned up with him to sit on the edge of the table and to press your forehead against his. His hands remained on either side of you flat on the table as you guided his length to your entrance. With one shuddered breath, Dean thrust into you. Then there it is. The starvation for control. You give it to him.

Hips snap against you. Fingertips leap to your hips. Dean’s grunts and your moans fill the air. The table slides a little with each thrust, but Dean keeps chasing you and release. One of your hands claws at the small of his back, pulling him closer. The other grips at the Mark, covering it up so all Dean can hear and see and feel is you. The feeling of your walls fluttering around him. How tightly your eyes are closed now in bliss. Your whimpers and begging gasps of breath for more. More of him. Only him.

Your body shivers and your toes curl to the cramping point as Dean twists his hips to hit the spot that sends you over the edge. Your legs quiver around Dean’s hips when he stills and holds you on him while his release coats your walls. Dean finally slumps over you, raised up just enough not to crush you, not that you would mind. His chest heaves down to yours puffing up.

You whine as his warmth disappears, replaced by the colder robe that smells like him. Dean wraps your blanket around his hips and carries you back to bed.

“I love you, Dean,” you whisper with a yawn. Dean strokes your hair until you’re asleep, clasping tightly onto his arm wrapped around your waist.

“I love you too, Y/N.” Then he’s out like a light, barely leaving a hair’s breadth between you in the bed.

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @blondekel77 @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @savmontreal @zuni21798

Dean Winchester Tags: @19mmallory @aimee-grace-01 @akshi8278 @ashmonet @bits-n-bowz @bringmesomepie56 @castianityislife02 @castielsbecky @catackles16 @cookie-dough-lova @dancingalone21 @docharleythegeekqueen @eve05glee @exp762 @gabbyrogers094 @helloenricanie @idontknow-canyou @its–killing–me @juanitadiann @justtryingtogosomewhere @kaemarie23 @kittenofdoomage @lauriz67 @livelovebands123 @mega-mrs-dean-winchester @mein1928 @millie67 @mylostsoul28 @mysteriouslyme81 @peaceloveandplumbots @sabrinaoctaviagunner @sassy-losechester @savmontreal @sissysalvatore @supernatural-jackles @temprence-the-real-satan @thedeanwinchesterx @theriumking @tinyium @uzum4k1-uch1h4 @valerieshubin @vutdidyousay @vvinch3st3r @windeango67

Supernatural Tags: @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @quixoticcat  @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov