hi !! my name’s alia, i’m 20 and my pronouns are they/them (as mentioned in my bio) and this is my sfw tk blog !!
this blog is mainly here for me to ramble about tk related thoughts + fandoms i’m in.
i don’t have many boundaries but i would like to kindly ask for nsfw and rp blogs to not interact ^^;
i would like to add to this by saying, i am not comfortable with minors interacting with me personally, you can like my content and reblog it if you want but if you are under 18 do not dm me or send me asks. i have no interest in speaking with you and i will block you on the spot.
my ask box and dms are open (for those 18 and above) !! but please don’t be a creep or i will block you :)
summary: you're exhausted after a hunt - dean has his own agenda
warnings: no use of y/n, gn reader, lee!reader, ler!dean, dean is a ragebaiter and it works unfortunately, reader gets ragebaited easily, suggestive dialogue bc its dean we're talking about, way too much build-up i'm afraid, mild cursing, kinda black cat reader i guess? yall like fighting for fun basically
word count: 1.8k
author's notes: i have no idea if anyone is even interested in this or if im the only one into this niche but here it is anyway. also i only watched season 1 of spn so far so i apologise if this is ooc
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The light was still pale, the sun just beginning to rise, when Sam dragged the three of you to a nearby diner. The previous night had been chaotic, the fight hard, and the sleep afterwards elusive. You had just about managed to sleep two hours before Sam put his foot down and demanded real food. For all of you. Even Dean hadn't grumbled when his brother took over the order and didn't get him pie.
You leaned heavily against the seat of the booth, eyes drooping, plate of pancakes and bacon polished clean in front of you. Dean's hand rested on your knee, solid and comforting. The hunt had shaken all three of you.
"I still don't understand how it got there." Sam was saying, head bent over his notebook.
"Dude," Dean countered, "we got the demon. Stop your fussing."
Sam levelled him with a look. "If we don't know how it got there, we don't know if there will be more." His voice was the controlled sort of patience that came only from years of being the younger sibling.
They continued their bickering, but you tuned it out. In your state, you couldn't even recall what the demon had been called. Asad? Or Asag? You couldn't bring yourself to care to remember in that moment and your eyes drifted to look out the window.
A car had pulled up to the diner, parking a few spots away from the Impala. Curious, you tried to watch as a man and a young girl - maybe his daughter? - got out of the car. Something panged in your chest, yearning for the normalcy, but your eyes grew too heavy and slipped closed.
For a blissful moment, you floated in nothingness. The noise of the diner grew silent, the brothers' voices drifting away. Your eyelids flickered against the growing light, and your last thought was a longing for the motel bed.
A sudden jolt of electricity startled you awake, your knee jerking and kicking Sam's leg opposite you.
"Ow, what the hell?" Sam yelped, rubbing at his shin.
"Sorry," you said thinking quickly for an excuse, "nightmare."
"You good?" Dean asked from his seat next to you, hand still steady on your knee. He feigned his worry well, but you knew him too well not to see the glint in his eyes.
He had squeezed your knee on purpose.
You stared at him, heart still hammering from being startled. He just raised his eyebrows at you.
"Yeah. Fine." You looked away first, busying yourself with the coffee pot. Mug filled with lukewarm coffee, you leaned back again, trying to look relaxed. Casual.
Just as you brought the mug up to your lips, Dean's fingers squeezed again, thumb and forefinger digging into the soft flesh on either side of your kneecap. You choked on your coffee, coughing violently. Setting the mug down with a clatter, you dared a quick glare at Dean. He was grinning around his own mug.
"Okay, well, you two are clearly useless." Sam declared, gathering up his notebook and papers. "I'm going to the library to look into this."
You waited until he was well out of earshot before you turned on Dean.
"What the hell is your problem?" You hissed, ignoring how his face brightened at your annoyance.
"My problem?" He said, gleeful. "I don't have a problem."
"You're seriously gonna do this in front of Sam?"
"Come on," Dean drawled, "Sam is clueless. He didn't notice a thing!"
"He didn't notice a thing this time." You corrected. Dean smirked and leaned closer.
"Why? You gettin' shy on me?"
Warmth fluttered through your body. But your rage was stronger.
"You're going to wish that demon killed you." You glowered, eyes hardening as his lips stretched into a grin at your words.
"Aw, you don't mean that." He said, sliding closer to you on the booth seat. "Tell me you don't want this."
You faltered.
You were exhausted, and aching all over, and tense with the remains of the hunt. Having some fun with Dean, on a rare moment when Sam wasn't there, actually sounded…not that bad. Maybe even nice.
Dean saw the moment he got you.
"Come on," he dropped his voice to a whisper, trailing his fingers in light circles over your kneecap, "let's get out of here."
The drive back was silent, and charged with energy. Okay, maybe it was just you. Dean had seemed carefree, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel in rhythm to the music. Thank god the drive was short. Now you stood in the motel room, watching warily as Dean shed his leather jacket.
"No need to be so skittish." He said, throwing the jacket over the back of a chair.
You scoffed. "I'm not skittish." You sat down on the edge of the bed to take off your shoes.
"Uh-huh." Dean clearly didn't believe you. Your focus remained resolutely on untying your laces. You heard his footsteps approaching, and if you rushed to get your shoes off, you would never admit it. You jumped up from the bed and walked past Dean just as he neared where you had been sitting. You took extra time in placing your shoes neatly by the door. Which you normally never did.
Okay so maybe you were skittish. It's not that you were dreading what was going to happen. No, if you were going to put a name to the feeling, you'd say it was anticipation, but in a good way. Excitement, even. So why where you avoiding the inevitable?
Dean was snickering behind you. You glared at him over your shoulder.
"You know, it's hard to believe you just hunted a fire demon a few hours ago." Dean said, crossing his arms.
"Saved your sorry ass, you mean." You called back, turning to face him. Dean didn't take the bait. He waved you over with one arm, grin stretching. You hesitated.
"Don't tell me you're scared of a little tickling."
"Of course not."
"Oh yeah? Come here and prove it."
He got you again. But you would sooner die than admit defeat. Dean knew this. You knew that he knew. So you crossed the room to stand in front of him, glaring at him expectantly. He considered you for a moment, eyes scanning your tense posture, then, slowly, he lifted one hand. Instead of attacking like you were expecting, his fingers lightly caught the hem of your tshirt. Your heart hammered in your chest.
"You look like I'm about to eat you." Dean said, holding back a grin.
"Knowing you, you might." Was it just you, or did your voice sound slightly breathless?
Dean titled his head as if to say 'you're not wrong'. Fingers slipped under your tshirt. He stepped into your space, crowding you against the edge of the bed, but not pushing you down. Fingertips skittered over your bare side, just enough that the skin beneath them twitched.
"Quit stalling." You forced yourself to say. "Get it over with."
"'Get it over with'?" Dean snickered. "Someone might think you're on death row."
You swallowed thickly as Dean's other hand came to rest gently against your ribs. "Sam might be back-"
"Sam won't be back for hours." Dean's voice lowered to a murmur. His fingers curled and you flinched, hard, a strangled noise escaping you. Dean lowered his head closer to your ear. "We've got all the time in the world."
It sounded more like a threat than reassurance.
"Motherfu-" You locked your hands onto Dean's wrists, but he did not stop. "I'm going to kill you."
"You know," Dean said conversationally, "one of these days I'm gonna make you admit it."
"Admit what?" You gasped out, eyes squeezing shut. It must have been because you were so exhausted - you never felt this sensitive before.
"That you like being tickled."
"I do not-"
"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, giggles." Dean cut you off and lowered his hands to your hips. You doubled over, forehead resting against his shoulder, laughter bubbling out of your chest. "There we go - going down!"
Dean nudged you backwards, letting you fall onto the bed behind you, swiftly following and situating himself over you.
"Get off me you brute!" You pushed at his approaching hands. Dean laughed, nudging your hands away and the two of you got into a hand slap fight.
"Still fighting?" He grinned, catching your hands maneouvering both of your wrists into one hand. You tugged defiantly but his grip was firm. Warmth spread through your body at the realisation that you were caught. Normally you'd break out of his hold with minimal problems - you were also a hunter after all - but your body betrayed you. Left feeling weak and sluggish, Dean had the upper hand.
"Did you just realise the predicament you're in?" Dean taunted, leaning in close to your face. "You've gone all quiet. All bark and no bite huh?"
You were going to kill him.
But first you had to get out of this.
Dean used his free hand to squeeze up and down your ribs, making you twist and arch your back trying to get away. With one last moment of clarity, you braced your feet on the edge of the bed and tried to buck him off. He just hooked his fingers at the back of your ribs in retaliation, and you were a goner.
"Oh yeah," Dean was saying over your laughter, sounding way too smug, "that's the spot."
"You're dehehead, Winchester!" Laughter bubbled out of you like a broken dam.
"Try saying that again when you're not giggling."
This wasn't new to either of you. You'd both played this game before, the back and forth fuelling each others' energies. As Dean's hands wandered from spot to spot, you found yourself pulling down your walls.
"You're starting to look relaxed." Dean said from above you, slowing his hands to gentle tracing just above your hip bones. You cracked open an eye to get a look at him. The hard lines of his face had faded, and he looked…peaceful.
"Could say the same about you."
"What can I say," he replied, shifting off of you to lay heavily next to you, "you bring out my soft side." He paused. "Even if you're stubborn as a mule."
You whacked him in the chest, but there was no fight in it. Feeling boneless and melty, you let yourself shed the tension of last night's hunt. Dean's arm wrapped heavily around you. Eyes closed, you stretched your arm out and over Dean's side. He shifted to accommodate you, leaning his cheek against your head. With one last surge of energy you pinched Dean's side where your hand was resting. Your lips twitched at his strangled yelp.
"I'll remember that." His threat sounded weak with the tiredness overtaking him.
taking inspo from a moot ;) i thought up some tword questions i've not seen on ask games yet! (authors note: i cant believe i typed the tword so many times, good gracious)
is there a situation in which you would like to be tickled/be tickled that you think is uncommon?
are there any pieces of mainstream media (e.g. music, paintings, et.c) unrelated to tickling that make you think about it? why?
is there a particular season that you associate with tickling? why?
are there any parts of your day-to-day life that put you in a lee/ler mood?
what is your favorite situation/circumstance that you have been tickled in/have tickled someone in?
are there any traits a person can have that will make you feel either lee or ler for them? what are they?
what is your most unrealistic tickling scenario?
do you find your lee or ler mood fluctuating as the day goes on?
what is your favorite tickle scene in a movie/show?
have you ever accidentally outed/revealed yourself to a friend not in the community? how did it go?
are there any everyday objects you associate with tickling? how come?
how do you feel about your family and tickling? how come?
is there a movie or show you feel missed an opportunity to include a tickle scene? what would you have added?
is there a specific genre you associate with tickling (e.g., cartoons, rom-com, horror, et.c.)?
are there any sports you associate with tickling? how come?
there are times were a feel like i want really calming and gentle tickles but i feel like,, a good 80% of the time i want it to be Bad. i want to feel like i’m going to jump out of my own skin because it tickles so much, i want to be unable to think of anything other than Oh My God That Tickles.
