Tag supernatural fluff

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?”

Spell-Bound

Aebli Leave a comment

As a defense against demons, the Reader comes up with an Enochian spell. Cas suggests testing it on him. It works, but you also find another steamier use.

Pairing: Castiel x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, bondage (sorta?)

Word Count: 1430

Note: This took me three tries to write because I wanted it just perfect. Let me know if you think I reached that point or even close! My tag lists and requests are open. I’ve also started to reblog fics that I’ve enjoyed. [See my #ReadItForward and #WritersReadingWriters tags] I may be opening a massive can of worms, but if read something wonderful, reblog it and tag me ‘cause I’d like to check it out too! As for this fic, I hope you guys like it. Enjoy!

image

If you hadn’t thought Sam had the library bugged, you would have thrown the book across the room. You’d been staring at it so long the letters were starting to blur together.

“Y/N?” Cas was suddenly sitting across from you.

“Cas! Can you please not do that?” You took a deep breath to cool off your adrenaline. “I thought you were on the case with the boys?”

He nodded. “Yes. But they are finishing up and will head out in the morning.” He leaned forward and looked over the book. “Light reading?” His head tilted in confusion when you sighed. “What’s wrong?”

“I-“

Were you really going to tell him? Yes. Yes, you were.

“I’m trying to come up with a spell that will pin something to… somewhere. Like the demons do to us. We can’t put demon traps everywhere, and they aren’t any good against a spontaneous attack. I don’t trust Latin or Arimathean, or even Sanskrit, so I’m trying to better my Enochian.”

He nodded sagely. “That sounds like a good idea. But I take it from your earlier prayer of frustration that it is not going well.”

You looked off into the room with a blush. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to call you. The… lack of progress got to me I guess.”

“I am always attuned to your emotions.” He cleared his throat. “And Dean’s and Sam’s too, of course.”

“Of course.” The dry pages rustled as you rubbed them between your fingers in the silence.

“Would… would you like some… help?” He drummed on the table while you hummed in confusion. “For making an Enochian spell, the key thing is getting the rhythm right and purpose right. What you’ve got written down is too much. All that text ensures success, but with enough effort behind it, you only need a few words. You’re half a step away. Would you like… my… help to make the spell?”

You bit your lips. “I would appreciate that.”

Cas flicked around to sit beside you. He guided you through the book and helped you whittle down your work. Several hours later he had shed his coat and had rolled up his sleeves. He stood on the far side of the library, waiting to try out the spell. You read the few words, holding one hand towards him though your sight was focused on the scrap paper. Then you heard a soft ‘oompf.’ Cas was against the far wall a few feet off the ground and smiling.

“See? It works.” He landed on his feet as you lowered your hand. “Now read it like you mean it.” He stopped your worries with a calm hand. “You won’t hurt me.” He stepped closer and nodded for you to try again.

This time you brought up the memory of your last run-in with a demon. The adrenaline, the helplessness, the rage of the hunt was enough to send Cas flying backward. He twisted around a bookcase and slid across the floor until his back was against a wall.

“Cas!” You dropped your hand and rushed over to him. “Are okay?” You tried to help him away from the wall, but he flinched as you touched his back. “Sorry. Let me take a look at the damage?” You eased him out of his shirt, flinching yourself when you saw the bruises. “Oh, Cas-“

“I’m fine… see?”

You looked down again and watched the bruises fade away from under your fingertips. Relieved, you pulled your hands away, but Cas took them in his.

“Don’t stop. Please.” His thumb rubbed over your knuckles. You never noticed how warms his hands were before. “I think the same about yours.” He let you go. “Sorry. Didn’t mean to read your mind.”

“Right now, I don’t mind. What am I thinking right now?” Hoping it wasn’t too forward, you pictured his hands spread across your bare shoulders. Yours scratching down his back. Twirling fingers in each other’s hair.

Cas closed his eyes to watch and hummed. “If I would like to share that with you… can I earn it with another test?”

“You’ve already earned it.” With a hesitant breath, you leaned down and lightly brushed your lips against his. His fingers weaved into your air and your felt the room spin. When it had settled, another brush of air alerted you to your lack of clothes. Cas broke away from the kiss and gasped to see you.

His hands reached up to cup your breasts. He thumbed over your nipples, making you gasp. You arched into his touch as he tugged your peak between his teeth. His nails trailed up your thighs, leaving light lines in their wake. You bucked and pleaded for him not to tease. Cas simply chuckled. But he answered your cry with easing a digit into your heat and moaning at the wetness he found. His slow strokes and curls pulled whimpers from your lips but left your release simmering just out of reach. You dug your nails into his back. Cas growled.

“You feel so good, Y/N. Clamping down already. I’ve wanted this… I’ve wanted you for a long time. I will give you everything if you can only be a little patient.”

He was shocked when you flipped him to his back.

“I’ve been waiting too. I will not be patient.” You fought to stay on top as Cas tried to flip again. He was playing with you, making it seem like you had control when he could use his powers at any second. You could handle that. Using the same mental images you’d shown him, and the rising arousal inside you, you flattened your hands on his chest and spoke in Enochian.

Cas’s hands were caught on either side of his head and his body was taunt beneath you. He laughed, his chest rumbling under your touch. “Y/N, I am a celestial being. Sooner or later, I will… reciprocate.”

“I look forward to it.”

You began to slide back and forth across his torso. His length was trapped between his stomach and your slick. You shivered each time the head bumped into your clit. You read somewhere that there are over eight thousand nerve endings in a clit; with Cas trapped under you and his cock still driving you wild, it felt like double that. You shifted your weight and kept one hand on his chest so you could guide his cock into your heat. Your eyes closed in bliss as you sank. Cas moaned with you, quaking when you came to rest on his thighs.

“Y/N-“ He gasped and strained against the spell. It wavered as your walls fluttered. “You feel so perfect, Y/N.” He grunted, and his hips trembled under you.

You raised up and sank back down slow. Your head lolled to your shoulder, and your mouth fell open as you continued. Your nails dug into his chest as you picked up speed. Each time your blood crackled with desire, the air seemed to shimmer. You kept your eyes on Cas. He was panting hard and curling and uncurling his fists. His eyes were half-lidded and his skin had a thin sheen of sweat.

“Cas-“ you sighed.

Cas opened his eyes. They were bright, glowing just beneath the surface. You wanted to see more of that, so you slammed down on his cock as fast as you could.

It was right there. You cried out as Enochian letters glowed under your hand then fractured out. You came when they glowed the brightest before the fade. Cas could move again, and he grabbed your hips first. Your toes were still curling from the first orgasm as he thrust through it. It was hard to breathe, but Cas got you there. He let out a shuddered and jumbled flow of words then pinned your hips to his. Your body gave a jolt with each shot of cum to your walls.

He helped you off his hips to lay next to one another. You draped your arm over his chest, breathing to the rise and fall of his chest. You hummed into his skin and let your eyes close in the afterglow.

“Are you tired?” Cas asked.

“Not completely. Why?”

He rocked his head. “The brothers don’t get back until morning.” He watched you intently and you felt a cool wave of grace flow over your body, searching out the places where you were most sensitive. “I have a spell of my own, or two, that I would like to test. May I?”

You hummed. “You may.”

Masterlist 

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

Castiel/Supernatural Tags: @wn-chstr @millie67 @nerdyalienhybrid1987 @–this-is-my-life– @ibelielvinmusic @marchilinemadness2020 @kiki9230 @another-hot-mess @why-pace-why @racovengeance @septiceye-scottie @incomprehensible-teenager @belicia24 @we-are-band-sexuals @bamby0304 @emoryhemsworth @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @just-another-busy-fangirl @psychedelictripforkit @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlovebug @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 

Quiet

Aebli Leave a comment

Sam makes the observation that the reader is louder watching wrestling than in bed. She challenges him by saying he is too loud to hear her. The reader comes up with a way for him to finally hear her, and benefits from it.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: SMUT, alternate to ball gag, Dean interrupting cuddling

Word Count: 1330

Note: Again, I am guilty of writing in class instead of taking notes. Oh well, here’s a Sam smut that I hope you guys will enjoy. My friends always check on my voice after a night of watching wrestling, since I’m not so loud during the day. Let me know if you’re the same or the opposite, or any mix in between. Also let me know if you’d like to be added to a tag list. And my requests are open! Don’t be shy, and hope you like this.

“Come on, Ambrose, you’ve got this!”

It didn’t matter that it was an old match with an ending you already knew; the point of watching wrestling was to destress. To get yourself relaxed after a hunt so you could sleep. Usually, the mere size of the bunker buffered your shouts from bothering the Winchesters, but your room wasn’t completely soundproof.

“I don’t understand how you can be quiet as a mouse every other second of the day, then create noise as loud as that.” Sam stood in your open doorframe. You didn’t hear him come in.

You paused the match and looked up at him sheepishly. “Sorry, Sam. I didn’t wake you, did I?”

Sam smirked. “No. If I can sleep through a lifetime of Dean’s snores, I can sleep through anything when it’s safe to. Which match is it?” You made space on your bed for him and gave him a quick summery of the feud leading up to the match. He watched your computer screen and occasionally glanced at you when you let out a particularly intense reaction. He got into it eventually but kept his reactions to flexing when someone took a hard bump.

“You’re doing it again,” you said after one such flex.

“Huh?”

You poked at his arm as he flexed again. “That. Right against me.”

Sam poked you back. “Am I distracting you from your match?” He laughed high and free as you stuck your tongue out at him. “Careful, Y/N, or I’ll find some better use for that tongue. Make you really scream.”

Ambrose and Rollins froze and the match went to black as you closed your laptop. “Is that so? Even if you could make me scream,” you gasped as Sam flipped you beneath him. His eyes glowed with promise, daring you to continue. “…you wouldn’t be able to hear it over how loud you are.”

“I can’t help it,” he said. He leaned down and breathed over the hollow of your throat before whispering in your ear, “you always feel so good. Take me so well. Make me lose my mind.” He shifted to plant his knee between your thighs, keeping you from rubbing them together. He smirked as you angled your hips to rub up and down on this thigh instead. “Is that an invitation to try again? To make you feel so wonderful?”

You were already soaked, and he technically hadn’t touched you yet. “Yes.” You tilted your head to give Sam more room to suck on your neck. Clothes were removed, chill bumps were raised, and your bodies were covered in open-mouthed kisses. You ran your fingers up into your hair as Sam reached down between your legs. Heat was already present in your cheeks and hot ice was in your veins. He stroked you, curling and thrusting in every way that made your heart thump wildly in your chest. Your eyes closed as the first wave of bliss ran through you. Sam hummed at your breathy sigh.

“That,” he said, sucking your juices off his fingers, “was not loud.”

In your post-orgamsic haze, you came up with an idea. Sam leaned with your touch as you pushed him to his back. Leaning across his body, you grabbed your discarded panties off the floor. You balled up the fabric and arched your eyebrow at Sam. He grinned. Then he opened his mouth and accepted the make-shift gag. It must have tasted strongly of you, having been soaked earlier, because he hummed around it and gripped at your hips like he does when he is particularly pleased.

His eyes widened as you sank onto his length, mouth hanging open and breathless. He stayed still as you worked your way down. With each drop, you let your inhibitions drop away and let your voice do what it wanted to. Maybe it was watching WWE right before, maybe it was because you knew how intently Sam was listening, but this time you were louder. You stopped once he was fully sheathed and propped yourself on his chest. He curled his hands over yours and gave them a tight squeeze before moving them to your hips. You were so full you didn’t realize what he was planning.

You screamed as he lifted you and slammed up into you. It was more shock than delight… the first time. Sam kept going, pulling from you a series of different screams you didn’t know you had in you. He growled through the ‘gag’ as your fingers curled, digging your nails into his skin. Your eyes darted from the red welts to his eyes. And stayed there. You saw the lustful darkness there. Then the roll of them as he tried to hold off. You bounced faster, shivering as your release danced closer. Sam twisted and got you there. Your vision dropped out and missed seeing him watch enraptured by you.

While you were catching your breath, he flipped you beneath him. His arms curled under you, and he reached up to the back of your head. Gingerly, he angled you to look up at him. He removed the gag and kissed you. You sighed as he began to roll his hips again. Slower. Intently. He licked at the sweat collected in the hollow of your throat.

The hoarseness in the back of your throat didn’t bother you. All the same, you slipped back into your soft sighs and mewls. Sam kissed his was across your jaw and rested his head on your shoulder. You licked his ear right next to your mouth. His hands gripped you tight. All the while, he thrust languidly accented with a few losses of composure. You felt him smile against your skin as those moments made you gasp out.

Sam lost himself in those gasps. He started to do everything he could to make you make that sound over and over again. You keened as he bit lightly onto your shoulder, muffling his own noises. You ran your fingers through his hair and pulled him back to look at you.

“I want to hear you, Sam. Please. Don’t hold back anymore.” You smiled at him. He nodded and ran his thumb over your bottom lip.

You arched as he moved faster. His grunts and growls filled the air, mixing with the sound of his hips crashing into yours. Using you arch, he nipped at the underside of your neck. You met him thrust for thrust, making Sam toss his head back. Using the chance, you returned the kiss, mouthing over his Adam’s apple where it bobbed in his throat. He whined and rubbed at your clit, sending you over the edge with an echoing high-pitched cry. Sam followed soon after, then fell to one side of you.

Over his heaving chest, you laid one hand and curled into his side.

“Damn,” he breathed.

You hummed in agreement.

There was a buzzing. Sam groaned and leaned half off the bed to search through his clothes. He chuckled and answered Dean’s call.

“When the two of you are done fucking like rabbits, we’ve got a case,” Dean growled.

“You couldn’t just come to the door?” Sam kissed the side of your head as Dean disagreed.

“And risk having to hear round whatever up close? No thanks.” Dean paused. “Is Y/N at least alive?”

You grinned and took the phone from Sam. “Barely. We’ll be out in a few.” You hung up before he could say anything else. The phone plopped into Sam’s clothes while you snuggled him for a few more seconds. “We should get ready.”

“We should.” Sam stroked your hair then rolled out from under your touch. He started to put on his clothes. You caught him smiling and arched an eyebrow at him. “Now that we know that I can be somewhat quiet, and I know you can be quiet, do you want to not wait till we get back here from the hunt to… try that again?”

It was awfully tempting.

Masterlist 

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

Sam/Supernatural Tags: @aimee-grace-01 @badwolfy08 @daniel-sharman-tho @gabbyrogers094 @ktchw @loveisjustfortheweak @mrsdeanwinchester16 @myshitismine4221 @nerdyalienhybrid1987 @parseltonguespeaking @sabrinaoctaviagunner @stealingyoupretty @thiickreigns @vinylwinchesters @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @just-another-busy-fangirl @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r  

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] 

Short and Short Tempered

Aebli Leave a comment

The reader is trying to cook, but she can’t reach anything in the cabinets.

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: fluff, implied smut

Word Count: ~515

Note: For all my short readers, we’ve been here. Tall readers you can still read this and laugh at our troubles with Sam. Lucky. If you like the fic, let me know with comments and reblogs and… likes. If you want to be put on a tag list, or have a request, shoot me a message!

“Seriously, Winchesters?” You groaned as you tried to reach the casserole dish on the top shelf. “If you two would just stay out of my kitchen, I could reach everything.” With a growl you took a chair and stood on it. You also grabbed a few more things to replace at lower levels later. “This is my kitchen, and I’ll be damned if Dean moves things around again.”

“Don’t let him hear you say that. He thinks the kitchen is his.” Sam chuckled from his leaning position in the doorway when you almost fell off your perch. “If you needed help, you could’ve just asked.”

You crossed your arms. “But I don’t want to have to ask. I want to be able to reach everything without assistance.” You squinted at him as his face twitched with a grin. “What? Stop looking at me like that.”

“But you’re cute.”

“Sam shut up.”

“What? You’re just adorable. And tiny.” His sweet smile finally shined through. No, Y/N. You’re mad at him.

“I am average height, Winchester. Average. Height! You’re just ridiculously tall!”

He stepped closer to you. Balanced as you were, you didn’t have anywhere to go. “I don’t think you are, Y/N. If you were, you wouldn’t need a whole chair to stand eye to eye with me.” He stepped close enough to prove his point. It worked out better than he thought. You bobbed up on your tiptoes to actually glare at his level. He laughed at your movements. The cute one that sounded like bells that only happened when he was really feeling carefree.

“Your cute laugh isn’t going to make me less angry, stop hugging me, put me down! Put me down!” Sam lifted you up and scooted the chair out of the way. He sat you on the counter and stood between your parted legs. “No. I’m not kissing you. I’m mad at you for-“ You were cut off with a kiss. He broke away for a second, then cut you off again, repeating as needed until you leaned forward to follow his retreating lips. Your hands roamed up to the nape of his neck where your fingers could curl in his hair.

Then a thought popped into your head. A memory.

You placed a finger on Sam’s lips and pushed him away. “Dean didn’t put those dishes that high, did he? He never uses these dishes, nor can he reach the back of the top shelf either.” He averted his gaze, dimples making an appearance. “Sam?” you asked, drawing out his name.

“A guy likes to feel needed.” He leaned down to rest his forehead on yours.

“You could’ve just asked,” you repeated at him.

“Can I ask for something else first?”

You nodded, humming in delight.

Sam nuzzled his nose to yours then whispered in your ear, “will you come with me to my room?”

“Only if you help me off the counter first.” You squealed as he lifted you up where you could wrap your legs around his hips.

Dinner preparations were on hold until further notice.

Masterlist 

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

Supernatural/Sam Tags: @ilostmyshoe-79 @jpadjackles @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r @aimee-grace-01 @badwolfy08 @daniel-sharman-tho @gabbyrogers094 @ktchw @loveisjustfortheweak @mrsdeanwinchester16 @myshitismine4221 @nerdyalienhybrid1987 @parseltonguespeaking @sabrinaoctaviagunner @stealingyoupretty @vinylwinchesters

Need a Lift?

Aebli Leave a comment

The Reader has a broken leg and has to be ‘rescued’ from the top floor of her dorm building.

Pairing: Stanford!Sam x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings/Promises: FLUFF, broken limbs (existing), annoying slow walkers

Word Count: ~600

Note: Happy Fluff Appreciation Day! This might get lost in all the other amazing stories coming out today, but I wanted to share this cute moment I couldn’t get out of my head. Please reblog, like, and comment if you enjoyed reading it! Thank you guys so much for reading my stuff! My tag lists are open as well as my requests. 

image

 

You could smell the smoke before the anything else. Someone probably left something on the stove, or let their toaster catch fire. Either way, they didn’t open the window (or couldn’t if they left the dorm) and the smoke wafted into the hallway where it could set off the fire alarms for the whole building. Welcome to Stanford, one of the best colleges in the States and yet people aren’t intelligent enough to open a window!

With a sigh, you closed your textbook and grabbed your crutches. People were too stupid to wait till they weren’t going down the stairs to text too. A shoulder bump and down two flights later, your leg was broken and the jerk had the audacity to vanish into the crowd. You checked your pocket for your room key one last time and then walked out your door into the chaos.

If the building was going to burn down, most of the campus’s slow walkers would be missing the next class day. While that sounded okay to you, could they at least move so you could make it out of the building?

“Excuse me. Excuse me. Ow!” A passing student zoomed between you and the people next to you, kicking your crutch into your injured leg. “Seriously?”

“Need a hand? Or should I say a leg?”

You turned to make some snide comment, but it died on your tongue as you had to tilt your head back to look the voice in the face. The gorgeous face. And a gorgeous smile. And…

“Sorry, say that again.” You mentally kicked yourself for not paying attention.

“I could give you a lift if you’d like.”

“Oh, um… I’m go… ow!” Both of you glared at the back of another shoulder bumper.

“Come on. You’ve got a broken leg, the building’s on fire, and we live on the top floor. Let me help.”

“Okay.” Damn his puppy-dog eyes. “Thanks.” You handed him your crutches and eased your way onto his back when he crouched. Woah. It was a whole different world from up there.

“Excuse us!” He called. The river of students parted and he made his way easily to the stairs. Only one person got dinged in the head by the crutches, but you could have sworn it was that first person who bumped your crutch into your leg, so you didn’t feel guilty.

The two of you joined the first couple of floors on the ground outside the building. The buzz of students complaining about interrupted activities and other stresses sounded like a beehive around you. The guy almost had to shout for you to hear him.

“My name’s Sam by the way.”

“Y/N. Thanks for the lift.”

“No problem.”

Sam shuffled from foot to foot while you awkwardly balanced on your crutches.

“Hey, would you like…” “Do you want to…”

You both laughed.

“Ladies first.”

“Would you want to grab a coffee with me? It’s going to be a while before they call the all clear. And I’ve got nothing else to do this afternoon.”

“I would like that. And my afternoon is clear too.”

Sam took your crutches and crouched again. You maneuvered your way onto his back with a giggle that turned into a squeal of delight as he broke off into a run. You laid your head on his shoulder and encouraged him to run faster.

Who knew what a friendship started in the heat of the moment could lead to? You wanted to find out.

Masterlist 

Forever Tags: @laochbaineann @lavitabella87 @thiickreigns @zuni21798

Supernatural Tags: @ilostmyshoe-79 @jensenandjaredintheimpala @@jpadjackles @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r

Sam Winchester Tags: @badwolfy08 @parseltonguespeaking @ktchw @stealingyoupretty @nerdyalienhybrid1987 @gabbyrogers094 @myshitismine4221 @loveisjustfortheweak @thiickreigns @sabrinaoctaviagunner @mrsdeanwinchester16

The Pain of Return

Aebli Leave a comment

There’s a case in your hometown, but when you arrive nothing looks the same.

Pairing: None

Warnings: Angst, sense of lost time, childhood stolen angst, plot without point, fluffy ending (oops)

Word Count: 1965

Note: I wrote this around my visit to my former hometown this weekend, but I’ve tried to leave it vague and open for other towns. Happy (or un-happy) SPN Angst Day!

image

Taking a deep breath, you opened your eyes and stretched. Sam and Dean were in the front of Baby talking low about the case.

The case. The one in your childhood hometown.

You shot up, looking out the windows for anything familiar.

“We’re still a few miles from the state line,” Dean piped up. “You haven’t missed it.

“Ah, but have we passed the peach butt yet?” You giggled as the both looked back at you; Dean through the mirror and Sam turning sharply in his seat. “I guess not.”

“The what?” Sam asked.

“The Peach Butt. I think it’s a water tower, or used to be, but its painted like a giant peach. Even has a leaf and the little nob at the bottom. The area is known for their fruit. And fireworks. But mostly the giant peach. It’ll mean I’m almost home.”

The peach crested over the hill a little while later. Both of the boys were amused at the water tower and you taking pictures with your phone. Almost fifteen years had passed since you last saw it, when your family moved south, and it still looked just as freshly painted and bright as ever. Then the highway dipped, and the peach disappeared from sight. Within another twenty minutes, the exits for your childhood county zoomed into view.

But as Dean pulled up the ramp, everything went wrong.

There was the Waffle House, and the hotel, and the Cracker Barrel. Gone was the family-run Italian restaurant that had the best cannoli’s in the world and the little pet shop where you got your first fish. There were over twenty new business squeezed into a strip mall over what used to be the park.

“Where do I turn?” Dean asked, breaking through the rising panic in your chest.

“There should be a ‘Scott Road’ on your left. That will take you through a small town before we get to ‘Hickory Grove Road’ and the straight shot to the case.”

Sam pointed the sign out to Dean. Memories stuttered in your mind as the trees that used to grow there were replaced by a budding neighborhood, many still under construction. After a few minutes, Dean slowed Baby to a stop. The road came to a dead end with a bright orange construction sign. You stayed silent as Sam typed the address into his GPS and shared it with Dean as he turned Baby around.

Your heart throbbed in your chest. Heavy, chest-rattling thumps that felt like they were pushing molasses through your veins. Air shuddered out of your lungs in short bursts and long silent sighs. Sam kept glancing back at you. Instead of looking back at him, you watched the town roll by your window different in almost every way. Just when you thought you were completely lost, a landmark would roll by and you knew where you were.

When had everything changed?

The landmarks became more frequent as Dean drove further out of the town and into the country. Out there, you saw more boarded up windows and crumbling buildings than replacements. Then things got really familiar.

“Dean, stop the car.”

“What?”

“Stop the car. Let me drive.”

You slid into the front seat next to him at the next red light. It was cramped with all three of you shoulder to shoulder but you weren’t focused on that at the moment.

At the salon go straight. Pass the soccer field. Pass the rusted sculptures. Follow the curve to the church. Turn left on the gravel road.

“Where is it?” you mumbled under your breath. Baby jumped and tilted over the gravel. Dean growled as pebbles bounced off the doors. With a curse, you made a sudden U-turn in some random driveway that wasn’t there before. “Where is it!” you shouted, slapping your hand against the wheel.

“Where’s what?” Sam looked at his phone and the road. “There’s nothing back here.”

“That’s the problem,” you muttered. Dean cursed as you slammed on the breaks. Then you were off like a shot.

“Y/N! Wait!” Dean moved Baby to one side of the road, then followed you with Sam to the open field. When they caught up you were sitting in a tree looking over the expanse of green. “What are you doing? What were you looking for?” Dean demanded.

“My house.” Your voice was soft but hoarse. “It was right here. I used to climb this tree all the time. Nearly broke my arm dozens of times.” You shifted against the bark. The swell in the limbs where you now sat was smaller than you remembered. The whole thing felt lower to the ground. “Why is my tree here but not my house?” The question hung in the air unanswered.

Sam checked his watch and nudged Dean, who nodded back.

“Y/N, we have to get to the crime scene. We’ll come back. I promise.”

You nodded. But you didn’t move. Not until the green of the field was replaced with the green of Dean’s eyes. You never thought how similar they would be.

“Sweetheart, we have to go.” He took you hand and gently tugged on it till you hoped off the tree.

You were silent as Dean pulled up to another new neighborhood. The show house was surrounded in police tape still, and a news crew stood out front.

“I thought everything happened… three days ago?” Sam asked.

“I did too.” Dean straightened his tie and led the march over. He was the first to duck under the tape after you all showed your fake badges. Sam broke off to find the commanding officer, and Dean wandered over to listen to the news crew. That left you standing alone. You usually went to check out the scene first, but your feet wouldn’t move.

“Y/N?” A voice said behind you. “Y/N Y/L/N?” You turned around and saw an aged version of a familiar face.

“Mz. Cindi?” You couldn’t help but let a smile break out over your face. She used to baby-sit you when your parents wanted a night out. You ducked back under the tape to give her a hug.

“Oh sweetie, it’s so good to see you! Let me look at you.” She held you at arm length but still had to tilt up her head to look at you. You were taller than her in sixth grade. “A FBI agent. I’m so proud of you. Obviously, this terrible business brings you to town, but I’m sure you’ve heard enough of that already. How’s the family?”

“Oh, uh. My parents are…” Murdered. “…they died.” Vampires. “Car accident. I was away at college.” I was home. The vamps kidnapped me and bled me for days. “Other than that, I’ve been all right.”

“My poor child.” She wrapped her short arms around your waist, then jumped back with a start. “Oh goodness. Did you drive by…”

“My house, or lack of? Yeah. What happened?”

“The family living there didn’t keep it as well as your parents. It became mold infested; poisoned the people living there. The mailman saw their bodies through the window. Just terrible. It had to come down, so the city had the volunteer fire department burn it down for practice. That was seven years ago. But most of the trees are still there.”

Seven years. Odd.

“Now this house was infested with hornets. The town seems intent on dying before the corporations can get out here. Oh, who’s your tall drink of water?”

You looked over your shoulder and saw Dean walking over. “Dean? He’s my partner. Well, one of them. The other one is talking to the chief.”

“Ah,” she whispered knowingly, “but which one is yours?” You rolled your eyes as she giggled.

“Dean, this is Mz. Cindi. She used to watch after me.”

“Pleasure to meet you, ma’am. Hate to steal Y/N away from you, but we need her inside.” He walked away after you nodded.

Mz. Cindi gave your hand a squeeze. “Don’t worry about the change dear. It’s the way of the world. And there’s always a little pain when you go back home and it doesn’t look the same as before. But after you and your boys solve this, don’t wait another fifteen years to show up. There are still good people around, and we miss you. You’ll have to tell us about the world some time since you’re one of the few that made it out.”

“I’ll do that. Is your number the same?”

“Hasn’t changed in over thirty years. I’ll talk to you later, sweetie.” She gave you one last hug, then let you walk back to the house.

Dean started filling you in on the case. The surviving son came back and got hit by a second wave of hornets. But his voice sounded far away.

Change is the way of the world.

“Y/N!” Dean snapped his fingers in front of your face. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, just thinking.”

You passed on the information about your old house after Sam joined you two inside. The timing was too perfect a number. Sam did research, and Dean cleaned his guns. You walked out to the train tracks and reminded walking the rails with your friends after school. And wondered whether any of them had moved out too. There was still a lump in your throat when Dean called you with the plan. You swallowed it and got to work. Bones to salt and burn. Ghost of the town legend to put to rest. It should have felt good, saving everyone. It should have felt like the world started turning again.

Instead, it felt like it was heavier on your shoulders.

No other families would be hurt. No more children would wake up one morning and find their family dead. Not like you had. But it didn’t feel like enough. All the lives you saved couldn’t get back the memories corrupted by the last few days. They couldn’t fix how lost you felt in a town that you used to know so well. You were almost welcomed leaving at this point.

“Do you want to get out and take pictures?” Dean broke through your brooding. He hissed as gravel bounced of the car again as he pulled to a stop in front of the field.

“Not really. Let’s just go home.” You turned your head to face inside the car.

Sam cleared his throat. “Y/N, hate to be that guy, but you know you’ll regret it. Come on.” His door creaked and his shoes made the gravel crunch. Your side of the car was shadowed before he opened your door. “Come on. I’ll take the pictures if you won’t.”

You snorted with a grin. “No, you’ll take them wrong.” Sam stepped out of the way and you stepped out. You took a deep breath before taking that last step between gravel and grass. If you’d left the shutter sound on, your phone would have driven Dean crazy. The dozens of pictures were silent instead.

Sam’s hand enveloped yours. “Go sit where you were yesterday.” He crouched a little and took your picture as you sat in your spot. “Dean, go away!” he grumbled. Dean shot back a determined “no” and placed his warm hands on your shoulders before tickling your neck. He laughed openly as you squealed.

“Come over here, moose-man. And bring your selfie-stick arms.” You giggled as Sam shot you a disgruntled look, but he posed and smiled all the same.

“I bet I can race you to the top of this tree,” Dean said several pictures later.

“Honey, you couldn’t make it half-way.” You gave him a shove that sent him sprawling into the grass, then climbed as fast as you could before Dean could catch up to you.

Masterlist 

Tags:

Forever Tags: @zuni21798 @laochbaineann @ilostmyshoe-79 @jensenandjaredintheimpala @jpadjackles @quixoticcat @smandrews3 @supernatural-jackles @tamtamlov @vvinch3st3r

Dean:

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

Your Mother is Going to Kill Me

Aebli Leave a comment

Dean learns how his son reacts to struggles and has to think of a way to keep them both out of trouble, even on Fathers’ Day.

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

Warnings: heart melting fluff, implied smut

Word Count: ~650

Note: I love reading Father!Dean fics, and wanted to try writing one. Let me know how you liked it with a comment (even if it’s just a keyboard smash), like and/or reblog.

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As the knocking on the door intensified, Dean cracked open his eyes to look at the clock. He groaned. Who the hell is awake at 7 on a Sunday? Behind the knocking, he heard rustling in the kitchen downstairs. Everyone. That’s who. He rolled over and pulled the blankets over his head. “It’s too early!” he grumbled loudly.

The hinges creaked as the door opened. A few seconds later a small body flew onto the bed and landed on Dean’s chest.

“Wake up! It’s Father’s Day! Happy Father’s Day, daddy!”

“Good morning to you too, Bobby.” Dean grunted as Bobby bounced one more time before getting off his chest.

“I got you a present.” Bobby held out a small box haphazardly wrapped in blue paper. He watched almost patiently as Dean ripped off the paper. “It’s a derby car! My scout troupe hasn’t given them out yet, but Mommy said you’d want time with me for Father’s Day and I asked my leader for the car early, I was thinking we could paint it red. I already sketched out a bit, wanna see?”

“Hang on there…” Dean sighed as Bobby dumped out the contents of the box onto the bed. He couldn’t help but smile as Bobby pointed out his penciled plans and chattered opinions for flames or stripes. “That all sounds great, buddy. We can make final decisions on paint when we get there. For now, let’s put everything back in the box and we can see what you mother’s doing for breakfast. “

Bobby panicked as they counted everything off. “Where’s the fourth wheel? How could I lose it? Son of a-“

“Hey! Watch your language. Where’d you learn that anyways?”

Bobby looked up sheepishly. “You said it the other day when you tripped over my firetruck. Saying it seemed to calm you down, so…”

Dena pinched the bridge of his nose. “Your mother’s gonna kill me. Okay, here’s the deal,” he said, giving the derby box back to his son, “we can buy another set if we can’t find the fourth wheel. Then we’ll have three back-ups.” He dropped his voice, “and if Mommy asks about your new vocabulary you’re not going to use, say you learned it from Uncle Sammy. Got it?”

“Yes, sir,” Bobby grinned.

“What are you two up to?” you asked, walking in from leaning on the doorframe. You laughed when they both said “nothing” in unison, unconvincingly. “Right, now scoot over.” You slid into the bed behind Bobby, kissing Dean over his head.

“Hey! You’re squishing me. Get a room!”

“You’re in our room, little mister.” You reached out and tickled Bobby from one angle as Dean tickled him from another till Bobby’s squeals were high enough to shatter glass. “And where’d you learn that sass?”

Bobby looked at Dean, then back at you. “Frooooom… Uncle Sammy.”

“That’s my boy,” Dean said, giving Bobby’s hair a ruffle. His proud smile dropped away into a confused shrug.

“Sure you did,” you hummed. “Breakfast is out. You might want to get there before your Dad eats all the bacon.”

Bobby was off like a shot.

Dean rolled over you and kissed your forehead and down your neck. He rolled his hips and hardening length against you.

You shivered. “You wanting to make a brother for Bobby?”

Dean growled. “I was thinking a sister as brilliant and beautiful as her mother, but I’m more focused on the creative process at the moment.”

You pressed a finger over his lips as he dipped for another kiss. “Unless you want a small interruption, might I suggest we wait till after breakfast?”

“It’s not too early to traumatize Bobby.”

You booped his nose. “If you can wait for a little bit, Sam’s coming over to pick him up. Then we’ll have all day.” You giggled as Dean’s face lit up. “Happy Father’s Day, Mr. Winchester.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Winchester.”

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More Than Usual

Aebli Leave a comment

Prompt: “My request is this: DeanxReader where the reader has Endometriosis but she’s hiding it from Dean but one day on a hunt when it gets bad she collapses and finally has to tell him and lots of fluff and so on and she explains how painful it is and he helps her and is supportive. I hope it’s something you’ll want to write! I’m trying to bring awareness to the disease.” – @destielshipper222

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)

Warnings: period stuff (to the extreme), angsty beginning, eventual fluff, mild language

Word Count: 1500+

Quick Background: Endometriosis is when uterus tissue grows where it shouldn’t be. It can cause cysts and fusing of the uterus to other organs. The tissue reacts to the menstruation cycle and leads to interior bleeding because the broken-down tissue has nowhere to go. This leads to intense pain before/during periods and during everyday life. It affects millions of women around the world and is often waved off by doctors as “normal pain.”

Note: I had no idea this disease affected so many women before doing a little research for this fic. I’m not a huge blog yet, but I hope this gets the word out there. Incredibly painful period pains are not normal, so if any of this sounds familiar you might want to consider talking to someone.

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You hoped to finish the case before it hit. You hoped it would hold off for a few more hours. You hoped the monster couldn’t sense the pain you were in. It was unlikely it wouldn’t. Vampires had a way of seeking out such things.

“You ready?” Dean asked, handing you a machete from the trunk.

“Yeah.” A jab inside your abdomen made you steady yourself on Baby, playing it off as casual leaning.

“What’s wrong with you?” His brow instantly furrowed. That’s how he was every month. So far, you’d been able to hide the truth from him.

“Just cramps. It’s a good thing I’m the bait. Sam, do you have any other info?”

“He seems to be a loner, maybe trying to start a new pack. Another casualty of the British Men of Letters probably.”

You grunted as another pain shot through you. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

The three of you avoided the main drive towards the house. You signaled the boys when you saw the vamp walking around inside. Sam broke off to find the back door. You and Dean made your way to the front, crouching under the window sills. Dean mouthed “be careful” when you found the door was unlocked.

At the center staircase, he went left, you went right. The vamp had wandered into another part of the house, leaving the picturesque country living room empty. You ignored the dust fairies swirling in the sunlight, choosing instead to focus on the next doorway. It was getting harder to hold the blade up high enough to hit anything. Wave after wave of pain surged through you as your cramps hit near peak intensity. As usual, the morning meds weren’t doing much. Between the cold sweat and the pounding heart, you were sure the vamp would find you soon enough. The goal was to distract him enough to take him out, but your sight was beginning to tunnel to five feet in front of you. You never saw the fist coming.

The vamp sent you sprawling and your machete clattering under the couch. He pinned your arms to either side with his knees and clamped his hands over your mouth, hovering just above sitting on your chest.

“Well hello there. I didn’t think I was expecting visitors, but you’ll do.” He leaned down and took a long sniff up the side of your face. “Hmm. There’s something wrong with your blood, love. You know, one little bite will fix all that.”

“Ngho Phank Wu,” you mumbled through his fingers. You kicked your legs, hoping to get the boys’ attention.

“Don’t worry. Your friends will be down shortly, but with a new stamina I’m sure you’ll appreciate.” He laughed openly as you struggled beneath him, intent on signaling Dean before he or Sam went upstairs.

“Hey, douche bag!”

The vamp looked up just in time to be beheaded. You were sprayed with blood and yelled to Dean, “there’s more upstairs!” He dashed off, leaving you to gather yourself and follow him.

Only you couldn’t.

The cramps controlled your body now. Your skin felt like it was vibrating. You could hear your breaths coming out in short bursts. The air that should have been coming in was nowhere to be found. Ceiling turned into wall and turned into floor as you curled into a ball praying, willing the agony to go away. Dean came thundering down the stairs covered in blood and proud of himself. Then he saw you.

“Y/N!” He kneeled by your side and cradled your head in his lap. “What’s wrong? Did he turn you?”

“No,” you gasped out before curling up again.

“I’m taking you to a hospital, now.”

“No. We’re covered in blood. Too many questions. Just get me to the car and my bag.” His face hovering over you upside down was the last thing you saw before blacking out.

The tree line breezed by in brilliant shades of green.

“Hang on, Y/N. We left your bag at the motel. Just, hang in there. Please.”

You mentally compared his irises to the trees before fading out again.

When you woke up Dean was sitting next to you with your meds and a glass of water. You felt warm and appreciated that he had dressed you in your usual sleeping clothes.

“Steady,” he murmured while he propped you up. You took the pills and the water, swallowing both in turn and not looking at him. You could feel him practically buzzing with questions, but he waited for you to finish the glass. You sat up further on the bed and realized he had also found your heating pad. He sat against the headboard next to you and put his arm around your shoulders. “How are you feeling?”

“No worse than usual.” You found a stain on the wall to focus on when his eyebrows shot up.

“What was that, Y/N? That can’t be usual!”

Unfortunately, it is. “Dean, I’ve been living with this for a while. It’s not something you get used to, per say, but there are ways to circumnavigate the pains.”

“Why didn’t you ask Cas to do something?”

You found a different spot on the wall. “We’re busy fighting things a lot bigger than my Endo.” Shit.

“Your what?”

“Endometriosis. It’s what my disease is called.”

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. “The second Cas gets enough mojo back, we are zapping it away, no matter what. Deal?”

You curled into his chest as the meds kicked in, easing the pounding in your stomach. “Deal.”

Sleep was probably a few minutes away when there was a knock at the door. Dean leaped out of the bed and pulled out his wallet. “In the meantime, I ordered food.” He paid the pizza guy and turned to show you the pie with all your favorite toppings, even the ones he doesn’t like. “And when we’re ready for dessert, the motel office had an ice cream cooler.”

Pizza and ice cream. Your usual go-to cramp food. He’d been paying attention.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

Dean chuckled. “The real question is who did you piss off to get stuck with me?” He pulled the covers over his legs as he joined you in the bed. “Because you are stuck with me, sweetheart.” He took a slice and began to pick off the undesirables. “So, how long have you had endomet…metro… the thing?”

“Since I was about twelve. I was in class thinking they were normal pains, then I woke up in the nurse’s office. That was long before I started hunting. I learned how to deal with the pain in a normal life.” Your voice dropped off to barely a whisper, “I don’t know what I would’ve done if I’d been hunting alone and collapsed like that.”

“What do they feel like, if you don’t mind talking about it?”

“Like getting stabbed. And considering that I know how that feels, it’s accurate. It’s never just one jab though. It’s all day, and usually lasts the whole week.”

Dean leaned his forehead against the side of your head. “Shit, Y/N. I had no idea. Besides the food and the meds and the heating pad, what do you usually do to keep them at bay?”

You smiled. “Sleep usually. Focus on being research central for you and Sam. Some of the yoga Sam taught me helps, but I have to be willing to move in the first place.”

“Next time you need someone to motivate you to do yoga, I’ll join you. Only if we do it in the garage, where Sam can’t see!”

You giggled at the mental image of Den trying to hold tree pose and not fall over. You would definitely find the effort just to see that.

“Now what? Do you want to sleep?”

You shook your head. “Pizza was too good. But… can you…” you hovered between wanting to be pampered and not wanting to be a bother. “Can you get me some more water… please?” Out of nowhere, Dean handed you another glass. You peeked around him to the lamp table between the beds to see a small army of glasses filled with water. And one with what looked like whiskey.

Dean shrugged with a nervous grin. “You were out for a while. I may have panicked a little.” He smiled in full when you giggled. “Okay, what’s your usual next step?”

“Netflix.”

You were a sucker for Bollywood films, and “Bang Bang” was probably your favorite. Dean kept his mouth shut about having to read the movie, but he laughed more as the film pulled him in. Even your favorite songs weren’t enough to pull your focus back to the laptop screen. Dean was pressed close against you and steadying the tech on his knees. You slept perfectly that night curled into his chest. No sex, minimal pain, just cuddling into his warmth better than the best heating pad. Having him next to you, knowing what you were going through and being supportive, was more effective than any medical remedy.

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