Summary: Written for @trexrambling ‘s Daring Drabbles challenge where my theme was “Candlelight.”
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 288
“All done,” said Dean, setting the lighter down as he crawled into bed with you. You’d never seen your room like this before and you couldn’t help but smile at Dean in the soft, dim light.
“This is...intimate,” you said, the few lit candles casting long shadows and warmth into the room, a pleasant, airy scent filling the space. Dean lifted his hand up and reached for yours, dancing his fingers together with your own, watching them move and play against the far wall. His breath against your bare shoulder felt hotter than normal, his muscled arm intertwining with yours closer than you’d ever felt it.
“You’re beautiful,” he said gently, his head tilting, his soft hair brushing your forehead for a brief moment before lush lips were pressing against your skin with a ghost touch. It was too hard to see but you knew that rare gleam was in his eyes, the one where tonight he knew he could forget about everything, that he would forget about everything. He was safe with you in this room, cozy and at peace.
“Can we stay like this forever?” you asked. Dean brushed a finger over your cheekbone, tracing a different line than you were used to over the shadow.
“You glow,” he said, moving his thumb over the skin slowly. You turned into the touch and he tucked his body against yours. “We can stay here forever, Y/N.”
He didn’t say another word, simply tracked new curves and lines, changing as the candles burned down, a little of the darkness returning, threatening to consume all of the wonderful ways he looked in that room. Even when that too came and the light was gone, Dean wasn’t.
This is for @trexrambling‘s Daring Drabbles - but I did break your 500 word rule, I’m so sorry, but it HAD to be longer. You’ll thank me - I hope!
Challenge: Y for Yearning, John Winchester
Word Count: 1250
Characters: John x Reader, Sam and Dean for a moment
Warnings: SMUT without a plot! NSFW aesthetic made by @jayankles (but had to be taken down due to T&Cs)
A/N: I wanna thank @manawhaat @codenameruby @feelmyroarrrr @ohmychuckitssamanddean @grace-for-sale and @papawinchxster for spamming me with gifs when I was stuck; y’all made this happen. Also, thanks Mana and Grace for talking John through with me!
If you’re not 18+ please do not read further. This is not for you.
The Winchester brothers and I had taken a break, from talking to witnesses, for lunch and were in the process of comparing notes when my phone rang.
“Detective Benson.” I answered, not bothering to check the caller ID as I kept reading over the witness notes Sam had taken earlier.
“I need to see you.” The gruff and demanding voice made me stiffen in my seat. I instantly looked across the table at the boys, my thighs squeezing tightly together, my cheeks flushing.
“I’m just gonna take this…” I whispered to Dean and Sam, both not looking up, Dean waving me off. I stood from the table and headed towards the back of the bar, hoping for a quiet corner.
“Where are you?” I asked, hoping it wasn’t too long of a drive.
“Too far. I need to see you, now.” He demanded once more.
“John, I’m in the middle of a case, I want to see you too but -” I began, almost as a whimper, it had been weeks and his last instruction had left me hornier than ever before: Don’t touch yourself, not till I tell you to.
“You have a camera on your phone.” The gravel of his tone had me swallowing thickly and itching to touch myself. How would he ever know?
“I’m in a bar.” I explained, but I was already looking for the restroom.
“You’ll figure something out.” He said, making my knees almost buckle. I headed straight for the restroom and checked the cubicles were free before locking the main door and sealing myself in a cramped stall. I pulled my phone from my ear and tapped the video call button, biting my lip when his face came into view. The salt and pepper matched his hair, but the smattering of curls across his chest, just visible at the top of a V’d tshirt, was still dark.
“Balance the phone somewhere so I can see you.” He instructed, the predatory smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
“Yes sir.” I answered, placing the phone on top of the toilet paper receptacle on the back of the door. I sat down on the closed lid of the toilet and closed my eyes, breathing erratic already.
“Hitch up that skirt, love.” I did not have to be told twice, I inched the fabric of the pencil skirt up my thighs and over my hips, already hooking my index fingers into the panties I had on.
“That’s my girl, you know what to do, take them off, let me see you.” John’s voice was like a good whiskey, rough and warm. I pushed the offending material down to my ankles and then sat back, legs wide for him. I licked my lips as I noticed his arm was moving, hand out of sight, but I knew he was touching himself. Slowly stroking his hard cock, looking for relief from the ache, but not yet chasing an end.
“It’s been too long, John, I need your touch. I’m so pent up I don’t know what I’m doing half the time!” I begged, knowing he wasn’t a fan of begging unless it was for him to stop whatever torturous play he was busy performing.
“That’s dangerous on a hunt, my girl, need you clear minded.” He said with a snarl, I saw the flick of his eyes as he took in the screen in front of him. “You can touch yourself.” My hand flew straight towards my already jumpy clit. “Slowly.” He growled, watching as I jerked my hand back before teasing it towards my clit. I ran my fingertips over my hip, down the inside of my thigh, then around my lips, before finally reaching my clit. I let out a soft moan as I made contact. The tight little bundle of nerves had been screaming for attention since leaving John that now it was like stepping into heaven itself.
“What a good girl you are.” He encouraged, “Lick your fingers then circle your clit. Imagine it was my tongue. Tell me what you taste like.” I swirled my tongue around my index finger and then added my middle finger, putting on a performance, hoping he was picturing his dick sliding in and out of my plump lips.
“Baby girl, you’re so eager,” He muttered, his keen eyes trained on the screen in front of him. I made sure to make an obscene pop with my fingers as I withdrew them from my mouth before instantly lowering them between my legs.
“Mmm, John, I taste good, but not as good as you.” I hummed, forcing my hooded eyes to stay open as I began to rub gently up and down, my fingers gliding with a mix of saliva and arousal.
“Jesus, baby girl, you are wicked.” He said as he watched the swap of fingers to thumb as my middle finger teased my entrance. I lifted my leg to the handrail for a better spread and grabbed at my clothed breast with my other hand.
“Mmm, YN, start fucking yourself. Slowly, in and out, like you do in the mornings.” He said, spurring me on.
“Show me, sir.” I moaned as my finger slid between my lips and into my warm, wet, heat. John’s picture’s quality distorted while he repositioned. But soon I was watching him clearly; one hand helping him remain propped up on the motel bed as the other had a firm grip of his considerable length and pumped it leisurely.
“Oh god,” I whimpered, eyes fluttering as I added a second finger and began pumping to match him. I reached down with my other hand and began to circle my clit again. I was chasing my release, and with how good I had been, it was sure to come fast. A low moan from John’s end had my eyes back open and focused on him.
“That’s it baby, faster,” He guided, his hand moved back and forth, his thumb wiping over the tip every so often. I could see the tense of his thigh, his tell tale sign. He was so close.
“Wait, together.” I pleaded, I wasn’t quite there, I rubbed at my clit vigorously, my fingers crooking to caress that sweet spot that normally only John could hit. A guttural groan followed by a pleased hiss told me he had come and I began to shake, so close, almost there.
“Stop.” John’s voice was huskier and had the tell tale signs of being spent, but he was still dominating as ever. I whimpered, the fingers inside me slowing, but the fingers working my clit back and forth were still eager, a mind of their own. My pleasure was tied directly to them now, no way my brain was in control.
“YN. Stop.” He growled, and that promise of punishment, the kind worse than this, had me ceasing all movement. My chest heaved as I panted, I was so close. My thighs were trembling, my nerves were on fire, my clit throbbed, ready for one last appeal and it would give.
“Good girl.” He cooed, it was the tone reserved for right after the smack that stung more than it gave pleasure, for right after he’d held me over his cock a little too long that I began to struggle for air. The tone that made me feel like I deserved the title. The call disconnected, but not before John gave me one last instruction, “Get back to the motel. I’m waiting.”
If you liked this unbeta’d trash, please let me know by doing something more than liking! Thaaaanks
A/N: Written for my Daring Drabbles Challenge. My prompt was Dean + Obsessed. This drabble was requested by @boxywrites. Word count is 470.
A reminder that I’m posting the MASTERLIST for this challenge tomorrow! If you still haven’t submitted your piece, please send me an IM :)
Warnings: judgement and pie
What do you have there, Y/N?”
The cheerful whistle on my lips quickly died off, and I paused in my descent of the bunker steps. My arms quickly swung behind my back, taking the overladen plastic bags with them.
“Uh...hey Dean.” I tried for nonchalant. I failed at nonchalant.
Dean quirked an eyebrow and set down the plate he’d been carrying on the war room table. “I thought you were going for a supply run?”
I nodded and resumed my downward trek, my eyes on my feet to assist in my Let’s not trip technique. “Yeah, um...yeah. I did. I did do that. Yes.”
My eyes landed on boots as I came to the last step, and I slowly looked up the length of flannel until my eyes met Dean’s. “You wanna, maybe...scooch over a bit?”
“Show me the bags, Y/N.”
I shook my head, a child-like gesture that was accompanied by a small, involuntary step backwards.
His arms went around me before I could process what was happening, pulling me forward and into his chest. My cheek landed on his shoulder before my brain kicked in, and I started to do the wiggle worm with ferocious flailing.
“Dean! Lemme go!”
It was too late. He ripped one of the bags off my arm, stretching the plastic handle so thin that it almost snapped. He brought it around into sight and looked down at the contents.
“I needed provisions,” I barked defensively as I tried in vain to bypass the hand he’d clamped firmly on my shoulder, holding me just out of reach of snatching the bag back.
“There are at least five sweaters in here.”
“It’s cold outside!”
“And what is…” he rummaged through the bag, slowly pulling out an object, “...is this a mug in the shape of an elephant?”
“It was only a dollar.” I ducked under his arm and grabbed my bag back. “I’m not appreciating the strong waft of judgement drifting over me right now, Dean.”
He eyed the three other bags that had come into view with my movements. “You have a problem.”
I opened my mouth to say something, but then my eyes landed on the plate he’d set down earlier. Half a piece of pie remained, the bright cherry filling standing out starkly against the white ceramic it was resting on.
“Wait, I thought we had apple pie last night.”
He paused and then looked down at me, confused at the sudden subject change. “What?”
I pointed at his plate. “That’s cherry. We had half an apple pie left last night. Did you…?”
He turned away from me and picked his plate back up. “So what if I did?”
I smirked. “Who has a problem now?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Whatever, at least I’m not out popping tags.”
This is part of @trexrambling ‘s daring to drabble challenge, I had so much fun with this!
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Warnings: Swearing
“Son of a bitch” Dean threw his hands up as he practically growled at the driver in the car next to them. (Y/n) and Sam exchanged a concerned look in the rear view mirror as Dean continued to curse other drivers as they innocently went about their days. They’d been on the road for a couple of hours and it was becoming evident that the elder Winchester’s patience was running thin as exhaustion from the hunt they’d just completed caught up with him.
“Dean, maybe we should pull over for a while” His eyes snapped to (y/n)’s in the mirror and she resisted the urge to recoil from his glare.
“I’m fine” His words were forced through clenched teeth but instead of pushing him, (y/n) just leant away from the front seat and turned her attention to the view out of the window. Guilt seeped into Dean’s stomach as he watched (y/n)’s face drop, the Impala jerking violently as he turned down a road they were seconds away from passing. Silently, he followed the signs to a diner, hoping it would be nice enough to make up for his behaviour.
Sam bit his lip to stop himself from laughing when he saw where they’d stopped. He knew Dean was a softy underneath his hard exterior but he’d never seen a woman wrapped him around their little finger quite like (y/n) had. A small smile pulled at her lips when she took in their surroundings and it only grew when Dean opened the car door for her and held her hand as they made their way inside.
They all seemed to relax as they settled into their booth, quietly chatting about what they were going to do next. The conversation was cut short when the food arrived and they all but pounced on their respective dishes.
Dean was finished in a manner of minutes, the crumbs on his plate being the only remnants of his burger. He wiped off his hands before snuggling into (y/n)’s side while she still ate. One arm was wrapped around her shoulder protectively while his fingers played with her hair, the other hand resting on her thigh as he pressed kisses to her temple.
(Y/n) and Sam exchanged amused stares until Dean finally caught on. “What?”
His girlfriend turned in his arms, facing him with a wide smile on her face. “You’re hilarious when you’re hangry”
Dean’s face dropped as he turned away from her, clenching his jaw to stop his lips from forming a pout. “I don’t know what you’re talking about”
A giggle escaped (y/n)’s lips as she pressed a kiss to his cheek, earning a poorly concealed grin from the man next to her. “Happens to the best of us”
He practically melted under her touch but only responded by stealing a handful of fries from her plate while smirking. “Yeah, yeah, whatever”
A/N: This was written for Jess’ Daring Drabbles Challenge. My prompt was Castiel + Zesty and now here we are. Congrats on your milestone, darling! I hope you enjoy this - I’ve never drabbled before and this was indeed a challenge. Love you @trexrambling!
Beta: @hannahindie - you lovely human - oh how I adore thee. Thanks for your unwavering support! :)
x
Zesty
“Soup’s on, boys!” I yell in the direction of the kitchen door. Several seconds pass before I hear the sound of approaching footsteps.
“What the hell, y/n. I thought you said we were having real food, not soup!” Dean’s voice fills the kitchen before he does.
“It’s just a saying,” Sam chides from behind his brother as they enter. “Right y/n?” Sam throws me a hesitant glance and I laugh.
“To be fair, soup is real food too, but yes, in this instance, it’s just a phrase,” I gesture towards the food and plates and Sam begins assembling his own sandwich. “You’re just lucky we even have real food to eat, Dean.”
Dean pulls a beer from the fridge and slams the door. “Hey, don’t pin that on me. I got everything on your damn list.”
“Well it would have helped if you’d actually read the list,” I jab a dirty fork in his direction before tossing it in the sink and wiping my hands on a towel. “I have like three meals that I can make from scratch and I either make them right or not at all.”
“They're the same thing, y/n. It’s all just a marketing ploy to get you to spend more money,” Dean takes a sip of his beer.
“Ok, well before you go and use all the tin foil for your fancy headgear, can you make sure I have enough to wrap up these leftovers, later?” I flip the dishtowel over my shoulder.
“Y/n is right, Dean. There is an obvious difference between them,” Cas appears suddenly and his raspy voice is startling. I’ve yet to get used to his unexpected arrivals.
Sam, however, is unaffected and grins at him. “Oh yeah, Cas? And what’s that?”
“Well, one is simply Italian Dressing, while the other is,” Castiel glances around almost nervously, “Zesty.”
“See! Cas gets it. I should have known better than to have sent a man to do an angel’s job. You really came through earlier, zapping out to get the right one. Thanks again!” I kiss the angel lightly on the cheek. He freezes.
“Oh he wishes he could get something, that’s for sure.” Dean mumbles around his sandwich.
“What’s that supposed mean?” I frown, glancing between the three men, two of which are giggling as food falls from their lips.
Cas’ eyes widen, the redness in his face deepening. “I, uh, have to go. The angels...they...I hear them…” the sound of flapping wings finishes his sentence as he vanishes.
I jerk the towel from my shoulder and whip Dean in the arm with it. “You embarrassed him, you ass!”
“Hey! He’s the one making up angel-radio chatter and disappearing!” Dean holds up his hands in surrender. “You two need to talk things out, soon.”
“Seriously. Do us all a favor, y/n,” Sam agrees.
I ignore them. “How’s the food?”
Dean grins around another mouthful.
“Zesty!”
Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)
Warnings: Nothing much, slight angst if you look hard. Mostly fluff
A/N: This is for two wonderful challenges. The first is @trexrambling’s Drabble Challenge where my theme was “Adaptable” with Dean. Jess dared me to drabble, and I hope I did her justice. The second is @samwinlover’s 800 follower Fall Challenge. My theme for that is baking together. I hope y’all like how I wove that in. I may be totally biased, but I’m kind of in love with it. It makes me feel so calm and happy and I hope y’all love it too.
Dean Winchester was nothing if not adaptable.
There were times when he could turn a man’s blood cold with one simple look. Times when just the whisper of his name could strike fear into the hearts of monsters everywhere. Times when he could be so deadly, so serious, so ruthless, that you were convinced he’d never be able to make it out the other side. Never be able to separate the good from the bad.
But, then there were times like this. Times when Dean Winchester was the picture of domesticity and peace. Times when he was carefree and funny, open and vulnerable. Times when the two of you were so happy, so in sync, that it felt like nothing bad could ever touch you.
It was your own personal heaven.
Dean moving around the bunker’s kitchen, quietly humming Bob Seger under his breath, laughingly sneaking tastes of the pumpkin pie you had just finished baking.
You playfully scolding him as you grabbed it from his hands and placed it on the counter just out of his reach.
Dean circling his arms around you so he could give you a gentle squeeze as he longingly inhaled the blissful scent filling the air.
You smiling and laughing while he lovingly turned you in his arms and placed a soft, pumpkin-filled kiss to your lips.
Dean softly whispering “I love you” over and over as the kiss quickly and easily turned passionate.
You softly whispering “I love you” over and over as the man of your dreams whisked you away to your bedroom, the pie long since forgotten.
It was your own personal heaven, a place none of the horrors waiting outside could breach. A place where, no matter what hell he had been put through that day, you could always trust Dean to let go. It was a place that Dean Winchester could adapt to every single time, and, somehow, that just made you love him even more.
Dean Winchester was nothing if not adaptable. And, if that wasn’t a miracle, you didn’t know what was.
A/N: this is for @trexrambling‘s Daring Drabbles Challenge. I hope I did good for this story. Enjoy.
Sam's been avoiding me and I can't figure out why. I've tried flirting with him, I've made him his favorite foods. And nothing. No indication that he might feel something for me. Why? Dean's told me that his track with women hasn't been the greatest, but I want him to know that someone cares for him. That someone loves him.
“Hey Sam. Can I talk to you for a moment?”
“Sure (Y/N). What's up?”
It was now or never. “Sam, do you love me?”
That caught him off guard. Clearing his throat, he shifted and avoided eye contact. “Of course I do. You're like family.”
“Not what I meant,” I crossed my arms, leveling him with a look, “there's no way you were so ignorant to my advances. You knew what I was trying to do, didn't you?”
“I don't want to hurt you. I can't lose you,” he tried, finally looking me in the eyes. Sam was afraid I'd die if I was with him.
“Sam, you're not gonna lose me. There's a greater risk of me getting hurt or dying on a hunt than there would be with me and you being together,” I tried to reason, but he stood up, turning away from me.
“You don't understand. Every women that has been involved with me, romantically or not, has gotten hurt, died, or forgotten me. I can't...” his shoulders slumped as he tried to convey what he was so worried about. Walking up to him, I wrapped my arms around his back, head below his shoulders.
“I know you're scared, Sam, but I'm not going anywhere. I'm here. You're not getting rid of me so easily,” I chuckled slightly, trying to get him to relax. Slowly, his hands came up and covered mine, a shaky sigh of relief escaped his lips as he turned around in my arms. And I was engulfed in a hug that was all Sam, tight and comforting. Like he was scared I was going to disappear.
“I love you, Sam. Always have and always will. I'm here for you, like you are for me. I'm not going anywhere,” I affirmed, laying my head over his heart (below it a little actually).
“I-I-I love you, too (Y/N). I've just been so scared of, well, scaring you off. I don't know what I'd do if I, or Dean, lost you,” he laid his chin on top of my head, the tenseness slowly melting away. I wasn't going anywhere; I wouldn't leave Sam like that. Maybe he wasn't so ignorant after all. He was my Sam, my moose, and I wouldn't have him any other way.
Sam placed a kiss on my head and I couldn't help but laugh. “What?”
“You missed,” I chuckled as I leaned up and tried to kiss his lips. He chuckled as well and picked me up slightly to capture my lips. It was perfect. He was perfect.
Tags: Hint of Destiel, Cute Castiel, Fluff, No Real Plot
Summary: Castiel likes helping people at the supermarket.
A/N: Written for @trexrambling‘s Daring Drabbles Challenge! Hasn’t been beta-ed so please let me know about any bad mistakes.
Castiel enjoyed going on supply runs with Dean for two reasons. Firstly, he got to ride in the front of the Impala. Secondly, he got to observe humanity at its simplest from; people just going about their daily lives, and there was something about that which Castiel found reassuring.
Castiel was wistfully studying the various jams on offer when he spotted a short elderly lady trying to reach for a jar of honey on the top shelf.
“Excuse me, ma’am?” he said as he approached her. “May I get that for you?”
“Thank you, dear” the woman grinned. “Aren’t I lucky, having someone as tall and handsome as you come to my rescue?”
“I’m actually of average height” Castiel said as he reached for the jar. “My friend Sam is much taller than me. I always have to ask him to get books off the shelf for me. Here you go” he added as he handed the woman the honey.
“Thanks again” she gushed. “You’re a real angel.”
Castiel became alarmed. “Who told you?”
The woman just laughed and waved her hand dismissively before moving down the aisle. Castiel frowned ponderously as he walked away.
He was distracted again when he saw a little boy crying in the candy aisle.
Castiel walked over to him and smiled softly as he crouched down to the boy’s level.
“Hello, little one. Why are you sad?” he asked.
“I-I can’t find my momma” the boy sniffed.
“I’ll help you to find her” Castiel assured him. “I need you to think about your mother. Think very hard.”
The boy nodded and closed his eyes; his nose scrunched up to indicate his high level of concentration.
Castiel held the little boy’s hand and felt the connection he had to his mother; she in turn was fretting about her son.
“This way” Castiel said gently as he led the boy.
They ended up in the bakery section where they found a frantic looking woman.
“Momma!” the little boy squealed. He ran to his mother and she knelt down to scoop him into her arms. “Thanks mister wizard man!” the boy called to Castiel.
Castiel smiled and gave the boy a small wave.
“Cas!” a gruff voice called from the checkout desks.
Castiel hurried over and found Dean waiting for his items to be scanned.
“Man, I need to put you on a leash” the hunter said.
“I’m sorry, I got distracted helping people.”
“Well, you can help me pack the bags.”
“Alright, Dean.”
Castiel thoughtfully packed each item into the paper bags as the cashier passed them to him. Dean paid and the cashier smiled at him and Castiel.
“Thank you, have a nice day.”
“No, thank you” Castiel stressed. “I hope you have a nice day too.”
He grabbed a couple of the bags while Dean picked up the rest.
“Why you gotta be so cute?” the older Winchester grumbled.
