Ask: Dean x Reader with the prompt "did you have to wiggle your ass like that? You're interrogating a witness not stripping"
Word count: 1165
Warnings: slight smut, male receiving
A/N: MY FIRST REQUEST IN YEARS !! I hope you like it, @flamencodiva !!! Also, this is only my second time writing smut, and I've never written male receiving before... so.. sorry if it sucks! I've also never written a Dean x Reader before.. so hopefully I got at least some of his personality right!
All you could think about was that Dean was in the room with you. You could not focus on the witness in front of you whatsoever. It wasn’t fair. It was your first interrogation, and it was going to shit.
“Ma’am, can you tell us what happened?” you asked.
As the woman, Sarah, explained about the air getting cold in the room, and that she had heard strange noises, you found yourself thinking about Dean. You smirked. Maybe you could give him a bit of a show to liven this interrogation up a bit.
Dean was standing at the closed door with you. Walking forward with a sway in your hips, you leaned onto the table in front of Dean and cocked your leg to accentuate your hips and your ass. You were acting like you were listening, and you were, vaguely, but giving Dean an eyeful was at the forefront of your thoughts.
As Sarah finished talking, you shifted your weight to your other foot, moving your hips as you did so. You could feel Dean’s gaze and it made you want to take him right there on the table. Sarah looked at you and wrapped up her experience by saying, “It was horrible, and I don’t think I can ever go back to that house. I swear it was a ghost… but that is crazy. Ghosts aren’t real.”
You sighed. Standing up, you looked back at Dean who had to drag his eyes from your ass up to your face. Smiling slightly, you silently asked, Are we giving her the talk? Dean gave you a short nod and stepped forward. It was his turn. As he passed you, he hissed in your ear, “Did you have to wiggle your ass like that?? You’re interrogating a witness, not stripping.” You held back a laugh. Mission accomplished.
After the interrogation turned monster introduction talk, Dean held the door open for you as you left. You were still by the table, so you walked towards him, swinging your hips teasingly, and brushed his shoulder with yours as you walked out the door. The interrogation was over, but that didn’t mean the teasing had to be.
Dean waited until the two of you were out of the police department before turning to you and growling, “Sweetheart, that was quite the interrogation. You better be able to finish what you started.”
You laughed. “Oh honey, I can absolutely finish what I started. The question is, can you keep up?”
Dean’s eyes were blown with lust and he yanked you to his chest. He looked at you for a second, taking in your features and your smirk, before crashing his lips against yours. The kiss was heated and passionate, just like your relationship with Dean. You broke away too soon, aware that you were still standing next to Baby outside the police station.
“Why don’t we go back to the motel and finish this little session?” you murmured to him as you pulled away.
“What are you waiting for? Let’s go!” said Dean, already on his way to the drivers side of the Impala.
Chuckling, you followed suit and got in. This was going to be a fun night.
You couldn’t stop staring at Dean as he drove. His perfect jawline, the stubble, his bright green eyes focused on the road… heat pooled between your legs and you couldn’t help but squeeze them together.
Scooting over next to Dean you put your hand on his knee and started drawing lazy circles on it with your finger. Slowly, you worked your way up his leg. As you got higher, you could see the bulge in his pants growing. Dean’s chest started to heave and he started breathing hard.
“Sweetheart, you’ve gotta stop that. I can’t take it.”
“Oh you’re gonna take it. Or rather, I’m going to,” you said slyly, palming his clothed erection.
He let out a moan. “I’m driving, Y/N.”
You smirked against him as you kissed his shoulder. “Well then you better focus on the road, shouldn’t you?”
“You’re going to be the death of me, I swear,” Dean groaned.
Unclasping his belt, you released the button on his pants and pulled down his zipper. You guided his erection out of his boxers and it sprang free. His cock was rock hard, already leaking pre-cum. You moaned softly at the sight. “So ready for me,” you told him.
Taking his member in your hand, you slowly ran your hand up and down his shaft, going tantalizingly slow. Dean’s hips bucked, looking for friction.
“Take it easy there, cowboy. I’m not done yet,” you said. You were pleased at his response. It never ceased to surprise you how turned on he got around you.
Leaning down, you kissed the tip of his head. Dean fought to keep his head from throwing back. “Fuck, Y/N.”
“We’ll get there, love. For now, you’re mine.” You licked up his pre-cum and ran your tongue from the base of his shaft up to his tip. Dean shuddered. You were taking your time, and you knew it was driving Dean nuts. Apparently you were in a teasing mood today.
Deciding to take pity on him, you took his cock in your mouth and started sucking. You started with just his head and kept a shallow bob of your head going. “Shit, Y/N, I’m not gonna last if you do that,” Dean stuttered.
You immediately took his cock to the back of your throat. You forced your throat to relax and take his whole length. Once your nose was at his base, you started to move your head up and down. You knew that you were doing well because one of his hands came down and fisted your hair. He didn’t force you, just rested his hand in your hair.
“Oh my god, Y/N, I’m gonna - fuck,” he said, utterly wasted. You could feel the tension and that he was building up to his release. You picked up your pace, keeping your throat open as his cock slid in and out. You reached down with one hand and started fondling his balls, which grew tight as he neared his release. Suddenly, Dean jerked and warm ropes of cum squirted down your throat. You swallowed every last drop, milking him through his orgasm.
Dean had removed his hand from your hair right before his release, trying desperately to control the car as you got him off. Your name rolled from his lips as he came, his body shuddering as it came down from its high.
His hand came back down and pulled you up gently by the hair. He yanked the steering wheel and turned into the parking spot in front of your motel room. Dean pulled you to him and kissed you, tasting himself on you, getting lost in the moment before he broke away and tucked his softening dick back into his pants. “C’mon sweetheart. I’ve got a favor to return.”
Hi! Are you still doing ships? May I please have a male SPN ship? I’m 5’7”, just dyed my hair from blonde to brown, and have a “strong” build. I tend to get described as very compassionate and empathetic. I love most music, but classic rock and top 40 tend to be my go-to’s. I used to love playing volleyball - especially when I was in college. I’m a hard worker, have good work ethic, and am not afraid to do the tasks that no one else wants to do. I’ve been told I’m a badass, too. Hope I am!
Thanks for waiting cupcake! I ship you with:
Gabriel
Like the boys, you met Gabriel while he was ‘The Trickster’. You weren’t the one to live threw months of a Tuesday, but you were there when he first showed up. In many ways, you two are quite the opposite. You work hard; he likes to play. You don’t fear showing compassion; he does in some instances. You love sports; he most certainly doesn’t. However, both of you are 100 percent badasses. That’s what Dean thinks really makes your relationship work. The two of you help each other grow as well. He relaxes you and you help him take things a bit more seriously (which is funny since he’s thousands of years older than you). You love the nights where your laying in his lap while he makes a ton of candy appear. He loves it when you fall asleep on him. When you saw him die, his wings charred into the ground, you became silent. It was as if you were just a walking vessel. No mind, no emotion. It took you awhile to even accept the possibility that it wasn’t a trick. It got to the point where even Sam could barely get you to eat. So…when he showed up in your room in the middle of the night, you initially thought it was your mind playing tricks again. But he was insistent. He kissed you to prove how real he was. Needless to say that was followed by stunned silence, a few tears, and then all out anger. Before you could get too loud, Gabriel transported the two of you outside of the bunker. You barely noticed with the amount of yelling you were doing. “I thought you were dead you big bag of dicks! Do you know what the last few months have been like for me? I’ve felt like the worst shit possible, and you have the AUDACITY come back and tell me it wAS A LIE???” He stayed quiet. Your legs buckled as you started letting all the tears from the last few months free. Thankfully, he was there to catch you. He kept repeating how sorry he was as you held onto him as tightly as you could.
Prompt: "Whatever that thing is, it is not what we are looking for so, Dean put it down immediately! Cas stop fooling around like an idiot, and Sam, what the hell are you even doing?"
Summary: The reader’s hands are full when Dean, Sam, and Cas are all affected by an object cursed by the witch they’re hunting.
Word Count: 1553
Trigger warnings: Death, brief mention of blood
A/N: Would love to know what you think! Comments and reblogs are amazing!
Edited by @winchest09
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You glanced at Sam as he picked the lock with nimble, practiced fingers. A slight smile ghosted across your face as you checked the yard and surrounding properties for any witnesses. There wasn’t a lock that Sam couldn’t pick.
Dean and Cas had split off and gone around back. The house was huge, with cameras everywhere. The property was thick with flowers and plants surrounding the house, making it easy for the two large men to hide as they worked their way over to the security box.
The lock clicked, and you and Sam crept forward through the door. Guns drawn, you moved around each other with practiced ease. Thanks to Dean’s ungodly ability to flirt, the four of you had gotten blueprints of the house and had memorized them down to the last brick. You moved swiftly to the upstairs, followed by Sam.
You knew the witch was home – you had seen her arrive. Stealth was key in this case. She’d killed eight people with hex bags already. They were gruesome, horrible deaths, and you wanted her dead like you’d never wanted anyone dead before.
Once Dean and Cas had cleared the downstairs, they joined you and Sam upstairs. You peeled off towards the bedrooms with Dean, and Cas joined Sam. The hallways were dark, and there were nine doors to check behind. As Dean entered the master bedroom, you spared a glance over your shoulder towards the other two before you went with him.
As you finished clearing it, trying not to bump into the bed, dresser, desk, or table, you heard a strange thump and then a yell.
You and Dean barreled out of the room and down the hall. You skidded to a stop when you reached the open doorway and stared. Dean all but ran into you as his sprint was halted by your body blocking the door.
Cas had a stupidly silly smile spread across his face, and was dancing around in big circles with his hands waving in the air. Whereas, Sam had his mouth wide open and was measuring with his hands how big it was.
Almost as soon as you’d taken in the ridiculous scene, Dean knocked you into the doorframe as he shoved forward, eager to figure out what was going on. He grabbed some sort of ancient looking scroll from Cas’s hand, and almost immediately started mirroring Sam’s actions.
“Dean!” you whispered angrily. “Dean, whatever that thing is, it’s not what we’re here for! Cas, stop fooling around like an idiot! And Sam, dude, what the hell are you even doing!?” You couldn’t believe you had this to deal with now. You had three men who were currently no better than children, and a dangerous witch you still hadn’t seen.
Backing away, you shut the door quickly, hoping to contain the noise that Sam, Dean, and Cas were all making. With these circumstances, you’d do better against the witch on your own, which still didn’t mean things would go well.
As you turned around, you came face to face with a very smug looking woman. She had brown hair slightly past her shoulders, had a pretty, long face, and looked like she knew how to handle herself. It was the witch herself, Elizabeth.
“Shit,” you managed to get out before attempting to take a shot at her with your gun.
She knocked it from your hands as you fired, spinning you into the wall. You retaliated by launching up and taking a swing at her with a mean right hook. She ducked, and you recovered quickly, doing your best to keep your back to the wall. The two of you fought your way down the hall. The blows and kicks were vicious, and you knew this wouldn’t end unless one of you was dead. If you could keep her busy enough to not say any incantations, you figured you might have a chance to extend your life by a few minutes, but without your gun, you weren’t sure how in the hell you were going to kill her.
The fight wore on, and it was becoming apparent that you were at a disadvantage. Primarily because Elizabeth knew the house best. Even having memorized the blueprints, there was a difference between studying the layout of a house and living in it. She knew when there was a corner to throw you against, a table to flip you over, curtains to tangle you in. You’d never admit it, but you were starting to wonder if she was in better shape than you. Being a hunter, you had your fair share of fights, but you’d always had Sam or Dean to come help take out whatever monstrosity you were fighting with.
With a loud smash, you went flying over the kitchen counter and hit the fridge with considerable force. As you lay on the ground, slightly stunned, you fisted your hands angrily, your fingers closing around something which caused you to glance down. It was a knife.
You quickly scrambled to your feet with a maniacal grin across your face. Elizabeth advanced and you launched yourself at her, the knife coming into her view too late. You ran the blade right through her neck, forcing it through her windpipe and into the spinal vertebrae. Elizabeth’s eyes went wide, and her mouth moved like she was trying to speak. But instead of words leaving her mouth, it was blood. As crimson liquid dripped down from her mouth, you heard another commotion coming down the hall. Sam was weaving around in the hallway, smashing into the walls as hard as he could as he walked, chuckling stupidly. You sprinted over to him while the witch was in shock from your attack. You reached behind Sam’s waist to grab his gun, which was filled with witch-killing bullets.
You heard her gurgle as you spun around and fired without hesitation. Elizabeth stared at you lifelessly before dropping to the floor. You smiled grimly at her and then kicked her hard with your booted foot.
“That’s for the innocent people you killed, you bitch.”
You watched her for a minute, and then realized you weren’t hearing any stupid noises from Sam. You turned to look his way and saw him looking proudly at you. “Well done, Y/N. I can’t believe you killed her by yourself!”
“Yeah, well, I can’t believe you let yourself get cursed when you knew we were in a witch’s house,” you teased.
As the beating you took stared to cause your body to ache something awful, you thought, Shit, this is gonna hurt tomorrow.
Groaning to yourself, you walked back upstairs with Sam to find out what had befallen Dean and Cas. You opened the door, and immediately was knocked off your feet by two well built men falling out of the door.
All of you let out grunts and “oof”s as the three of you landed in a pile on the floor. Immediately on top of you was Dean. You looked at each other in surprise and relief.
Both of you started talking at the same time. “What the fuck are you doing?” “How’re you still alive?” He laughed as you chuckled weakly.
“Get off me you big lugs,” you moaned. They got up good-naturedly and looked at Sam, waiting to be told how the spell was broken.
Sam responded to their expectant looks by saying, “The only thing I can think of is that Elizabeth had cursed the scroll herself to cause whoever touched it to lose some sanity. But since it ended, I’m assuming that curse was tied to her life force.” He looked pensive and then shrugged. “I mean, kinda rare, but I’ll take it.”
Taking their pause as a cue, you spoke proudly, “I killed her.” Dean and Cas looked at you in shock. Continuing smugly, you said, “I mean, she was kicking my ass, let’s be real. But she made the mistake of throwing me over the kitchen counter.. By the knives.” You paused briefly to give them a knowing look and then kept going with your story. “So, I hit the fridge, and as I made a fist - cause man, am I pissed now! - my hand closes on a silver knife. How lucky was that!” You laughed. “I grab the knife, and launch myself at her before she can attack first. Got her right in the windpipe. Then Sam, who somehow got out of the room I shut y’all in, wandered right into my lap with his witch-killing bullets. Problem solved.”
Sam gave you a hug and helped you up. “I’m sorry we weren’t able to help you, Y/N.” He looked at you proudly, but behind his eyes you could see guilt warring with pride.
“We’re proud of you, Y/N! Couldn’t have done it better ourselves,” Dean said, “C’mere!” He reached for you and grabbed you in a big bear hug. Squished against him, barely able to breath, you peeked over his shoulder, and saw Cas smiling softly at you.
You extracted yourself from Dean’s hug, as much as you loved the rare moment, and gave Cas his turn. He let you go quickly, since he was still a bit of an awkward hugger.
You chuckled, and said firmly, “Let’s go home, shall we?”
Summary: You are in a relationship with Sam Winchester. You don’t feel deserving of his love as your depression causes you to sink into a deep rut. Sam does some research about depression and responds to your lapse in happiness with a gentle approach that ends with him showing you just how much he loves you.
Word Count: 2906
Warnings: talk of depression and suicide/death, angst, and all the fluff with some smut added in there.
A/N: First- I’ve never written smut before. So be nice! Second, I struggle with depression and anxiety, and wanted to write a fic that expresses what would help me (or hopefully anyone struggling as well) feel appreciated when I’m low. I bolded symptoms of depression to help people see what it feels like to have depression. These are not the only symptoms. If you identify with one or more of the symptoms, I encourage you to reach out to someone and start a conversation. It could be a complete stranger or a loved one. (I'm always a listening ear, too!) Whatever you’re most comfortable with. All “Google results” are from my own google search. The crisis text line is a real resource for you to use, if you find yourself in a mental health crisis.
Also tagging a couple people who might like to read. Sorry if that's overstepping! @winchester09 @that-one-gay-girl @supernatural-harrypotter7 @winchest09
The one good thing about living in a bunker was that there were no windows. Your room that you shared with Sam Winchester was no different. It meant no morning sun could wake you up, and you could keep the room as dark and cool as you wanted to. And on this particular morning, your depression had you keeping the room as dark as you possibly could.
You knew the boys would be wondering where you were, since it was 10:30, and you were always up by 8:00. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You couldn’t move, you couldn’t get dressed, brush your teeth or hair, or even get your legs swung over the edge of the bed. You were so emotionless that you couldn’t even cry. You simply didn’t care. Nothing felt important to you. You had no motivation to do anything except lie there in the gloom, curled around yourself, stuck in this dark rut.
You had no idea how much time had passed while you stayed there, motionless, until Sam came in, knocking softly as he opened the door. Your eyes glanced over to him and you could see the surprise and concern on his face at discovering your lack of activity.
“Y/N? Love, what are you still doing in bed? It’s 2:00 in the afternoon.”
You sighed. “I don’t care,” you said softly. “Nothing matters to me right now. I wish I would die. Then I wouldn’t be a burden to anyone anymore. No one would miss me.”
Sam knew you struggled with depression, but in the short time you’d been together, he had yet to see a truly deep depressive episode. It scared him, and he replied, “What? Y/N, I would miss you! You’re scaring me.”
You moved your head marginally to be able to look at him for real, and asked, “Would you let me be? I just need to be alone.” Your tone was expressionless, and it freaked Sam out.
He nodded and slowly and quietly closed the door. Once the door was latched firmly, Sam beelined for his laptop. He’d be damned if he was going to let you suffer alone and in silence.
Opening his computer, he typed in “symptoms of depression”. Among the results were, “fatigue, sleeping too much or too little, feelings of worthlessness or hopelessness, loss of interest in activities that once brought pleasure, appetite loss, feelings of sadness, loneliness, or ‘empty’ feelings, thoughts of suicide or death”. His eyes widened. You met every single one of those criteria for identifying depression.
Determined to help, he next googled “how to help someone with depression”. The answers ranged from helping the loved one cope, to opening a conversation with the loved one and getting them to talk about their feelings. Asking questions such as “What caused you to start feeling like this? How can I help you right now?” Stating things like, “You’re important to me. Your life is important to me,” or “You’re not alone, I’m here for you.”
One resource he found as he researched fervently was the crisis text line. It was a number (741-741) someone could text and speak to a certified individual about whatever their crisis was. Sam noted that in the back of his mind as something to bring up to you.
Sam nodded as he read. He knew he could do all these things. His biggest goal for you was for you to feel supported and loved. Seeing you in the state you were in concerned him and it had almost sent him in a tailspin of worry. But he would remain strong for you. You needed Sam to lean on if you were going to get up to see the light.
Sam noticed Dean wander in and motioned him over.
“Hey, I gotta talk to you about Y/N. She’s in a really bad depressive episode. She said she wanted to die.” Sam’s heart rate sped up with fear just saying those words. He swallowed and continued. “I’ve been looking up depression online and I think I know how to help her. But I could use your help.”
Dean quickly responded, “So that’s why she’s still in your room. Of course. What do you need?”
Sam answered, “I’m going to have a conversation with her and see if I can’t convince her to get out of bed. Actually, once we finish talking, I’m going to carry her out if she won’t walk. But I want to give her some ideas of simple things we could do as a group that would help her snap back to us.”
Dean nodded in agreement. “I think you’re on the right track. I dated a girl for like, a week, years ago who had depression, and getting outside really helped her she said. Maybe we could go on a walk with her down to the lake. Or hell, even loop around the bunker’s perimeter a few times.”
“That’s a good idea. I was also thinking something easier, like a movie night squished between us - something to show her she’s loved and not alone. Or maybe making dinner with us, so that she’s up and about but doesn’t really have to do much.” Sam ran his hand through his hair as he thought out loud.
Dean grinned. “Oh we’d show her she’s loved. She’s like my sister. She’s not going anywhere.”
His grin faded. “Hey, what if we took her on an easy hunt? Tried to get her back in the swing of things? Maybe it would distract her from the depression.”
Sam shook his head thoughtfully. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. She said she wanted to die, which makes me think that she might do something stupid on the hunt, like try to get killed. Or even just make a stupid mistake because her head isn’t in the game. No, I don’t think a hunt is the right option for her right now.”
“Of course. Duh. I should have known that,” Dean rolled his eyes in exasperation at his cluelessness. ‘I wouldn’t want to put Y/N in danger.”
Sam sighed. “Well, we’ve got some ideas. Let me go talk to her and see what I can get her to do. We’ll be out in a bit one way or another.”
Dean nodded and headed to the kitchen to grab a bite and some coffee before doing his own research on your debilitating ailment.
----
You still hadn’t moved since Sam had come into the room. Your mind felt empty, like everything had been drained from it. You just lay there quietly, waiting for nothing.
The door opened slowly, and Sam silently came in, shutting the door behind him. He didn’t say a word, just got in the bed with you and wrapped you up in his arms to hold you close. Your back against his chest, he tried to shelter you with his body, as if he could protect you from the dark thoughts. Sam wanted you to feel his love first before he tried to say anything. The two of you stayed like that for several minutes, the only sound in the room was the sound of two humans breathing softly. You hadn’t even known, but his touch was what you’d been needing. You soaked in the moment, grateful Sam was giving you space before speaking.
“Y/N?” Sam kissed the nook between your shoulder and your neck. “I want you to know you’re not alone. I’m here for you every step of the way.”
You didn’t respond, but it created the first semblance of emotion you’d felt all day. You could feel your eyes start to well up, not understanding how he knew exactly what to say to you.
“I don’t know what triggered your episode, but I think it would help if you talked it through with someone. It doesn’t even have to be me. You could text the crisis help line, and speak to someone through that. What do you think about that?” You could hear the hesitation in Sam’s voice, as though if he spoke too loudly or firmly he’d break you.
Sighing once again, you summoned the motivation to speak. “If I talk to anyone, I’d like it to be you.”
You could feel the smile on his lips as he again kissed you.
You drew in a shaky breath and decided to describe to him how you were feeling. You told him in a whisper about how you had no motivation, no gumption to do anything. How you felt worthless and unlovable. You told him how you felt he’d be better off if you just died so you weren’t a burden anymore and how you couldn’t bring yourself to care about anything today. As you spoke of your symptoms and feelings, you could feel a couple warm tears dripping into the crook of your neck and shoulder.
Once you finished, you felt Sam take a couple steadying breaths, clearly attempting to get himself together. “My love, I’m so sorry you’re going through this. If I could take this all away I would. But I’m here. I can share the weight of your burden. You mean the world to me. You are the farthest thing from a burden on me. You are the shining light in my life, guiding me and loving me. You have given me a reason to fight on. You are what I hold on to in my dark moments.” Here Sam paused, unsure whether he was overwhelming you or even getting through to you.
You turned in his arms so that your chest was facing his, your arms pressed against his chest as you brought your head to tuck under his. “Sam, I can’t tell you how much that helped me,” you said softly.
Sam took that as a cue and gently unwrapped one of his arms from your back and brought your head up to his. Tenderly, he pressed his lips to yours, sending you the message “I love you”. You allowed yourself to respond, capturing his lips with yours. Your kiss was sending the message, “Thank you.”
The two of you kissed delicately for a minute before your body began to respond. You pressed your mouth more firmly against his and adjusted your body to press closer against Sam’s. You brought one hand up and began to run it through Sam’s hair, something you knew he was crazy for. As the kiss began to become more passionate, you grabbed Sam’s hair at the roots and gently pulled, letting him know it was ok to take this a step further. He moaned a little against your mouth at the feeling of his hair being tugged on and involuntarily ground his hips into yours.
You automatically responded by thrusting your hips back against his. Sam broke the kiss long enough to look at you with an unspoken question in his eyes. You nodded, understanding his desire to show you just how much he loved you. Sam rolled you onto your back before resuming the kiss, running his tongue along your bottom lip, lazily requesting access to your mouth. You granted it, and began to explore his mouth with your own as if it were your first kiss. You could feel Sam slowly grinding against you, not rushing, but clearly feeling the need for some friction. His erection was bumping against your abdomen, and both of your breathing began to get shorter and heavier.
Not breaking the kiss, Sam lifted himself up on one arm and began pulling your nightshirt over your head. You allowed your lips to leave his only long enough to get the shirt out of the way and immediately brought your mouth to Sam’s again. His free hand roamed across your stomach, tracing lines in circles and random shapes as he made his way up to your breasts. Your breathing hitching, you moaned into the kiss as he began to massage your breast, pinching your hardened nipple. Your hips began to grind back against Sam’s, now also needing friction. Your arousal was beginning to pool between your legs, and you weren’t wearing panties.
Sam began to move his kisses down your jawline and to your neck, where he sucked through his teeth, determined to leave his mark on you. You cocked your neck to the side to allow him full access but he was already moving lower, taking your nipple in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it, sucking on it. He pulled off it with a pop, and moved to the next one. Sam then continued to work his way down your body, kissing every inch of your stomach, navel, and down to your inner thighs. You shuddered, his lips so close to your slick folds. Sam smiled against your leg. “You like that, sweetheart?” All you could do was whimper in response as you ground your hips desperately. “Ok,” he murmured. “Ok, love. Let me show you how much I love you.”
Sam ran his tongue between your folds and immediately you felt the tightness in your core begin. He knew every sensitive spot, every place to make you writhe in ecstasy. He sucked on your clit and slowly stuck a finger in your hole. You threw your head back, eager for him to insert another, which he obliged. He bent them and ran them against your walls, curling and pumping. Your juices squelched a bit, letting Sam know just how ready for him you were. He continued to run his tongue in swirls around your clit and through your folds as he finger fucked you. The tightness in your core becoming unbearable, you could feel your release coming. You moaned loudly and stuttered, “S-Sam, I’m gon-gonna…”
“Cum for me baby. Come on, that’s it. Good girl,” he praised as your orgasm exploded, pleasure coursing through your body, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again as he rode you through it.
You lay limp against the sheets, unable to form words. Sam looked up at you and chuckled. He slowly brought himself up along your body to recapture your lips with his, putting all his love and passion into the kiss. “Now do you know how much I love you?” he asked. You smirked. You could feel his erection pressed between your bodies. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, filling you, satisfying you. “Mmm I’m beginning to,” you murmured. “I might need you to show me more.” Sam smirked back at you and said, “As you wish, my love.”
He lined himself up at your entrance, rubbing his cock in your juices. Slowly, he pushed in, letting you adjust as he went. That was one thing you loved about him. Sam never rushed your body. He worshipped it. Once he was fully sheathed, he pulled halfway out, and slowly thrust back in, creating a slow, lazy pace that made you two feel like you had all the time in the world. As he thrust, he grabbed one of your legs, and put it over his shoulder, giving him a new angle, to get him deeper.
You moaned and your pussy clenched around his cock as he hit places that gave you waves of pleasure. He groaned as you clenched around him and sped up his pace, his balls slapping against your skin. Sam took his free hand and started rubbing your clit again, trying to help you get to your climax. His other hand held your hip in place as his pace picked up even more, almost becoming erratic as he got close to his release. You threw your head back again as you felt the familiar tightness building in your core. “Oh don’t stop. Oh Sam. Oh my god. Don’t .. don’t… ahhh!!” You came loudly and harder than last time, your back arching and your pussy milking Sam’s cock for all it was worth. Sam grunted - he couldn’t handle it, the tightness, the pulsing - and released inside you, jerking his hips, spurts of cum coating your walls.
Sam gently pulled out of you, his cum dripping from between your legs. He got up and grabbed a towel from the closet and quietly cleaned you up, careful to not be too rough. You lay there in heaven, a stupid smile on your face, unsure if you’d even be able to walk the next day. Sam crawled back into bed with you and gathered you in his arms. He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and said, “Do you believe me now? How much I love you?”
You smiled adoringly at him and whispered, “Yes, I do.”
Sam grinned. “Good. Because we have an activity outside the room that we’re going to do. And you need to be clothed for it.” He winked at you cheekily. “Dean and I were talking, and we brainstormed something the three of us could do that would help you feel less alone. So, let’s get UP,” he rolled you on top of him and then over him to get you to the side of the bed. “And dressed, and then we’ll go meet Dean.”
You smiled again at him, and good-naturedly shook your head as you got dressed. The darkness was gone for now. You knew it would be back, but you had ammunition to combat it the next time it came a-knocking. Sam Winchester’s love.
A/N: This is one of my first DeanxReader fics… would love feedback on whether or not I captured his personality! Though they aren't really an item... ?? @flamencodiva I hope it's everything you were wanting! I'm a novice to writing smut so I hope it's ok! *crosses fingers*
You sighed. You could not believe you’d made it through your three hour lecture class. Somehow, you’d stayed awake, though you could not say the same for everyone in the class. You looked around. About every fifth person was still asleep. You chuckled tiredly. I can’t blame them, now can I? I wanted to do the exact same thing. You picked up your laptop and notebook and stuffed them in your backpack.
Maybe I’ll go to my favorite diner to study for midterms, you thought. I deserve a fucking treat after getting through this goddamn class.
You walked to the parking lot and got into your 1967 Chevy Camaro. You loved your car. She was your pride and joy and you called her Baby. Not unlike a certain hero who’d saved you from a werewolf a couple years back. His car was similar to yours, a 1967 Chevy Impala. A real beauty. He called her Baby, too. You smiled at the memory. Damn, was Dean proud of that car. Dean had gone on his way, but not before the two of you had spent the night together making memories neither of you were likely to forget.
Shaking your head, you brought yourself back to the present. You drove across town to your favorite hole in the wall diner, a quaint little 24/7 diner where the workers all knew you by name.
You hauled your backpack onto your back and walked in.
“Hey, Joy! Hey, Dave! How’s it goin’ today?” you asked.
Joy and Dave smiled at you as you sat down at the counter. “It’s goin even better now that you’re here, Y/N! It’s been a couple weeks! Where ya been hiding?” replied Joy, the waitress who was standing by your seat.
‘Oh you know, it’s midterms comin’ up, and all. Gotta study so I can get those A’s!” you said.
Dave laughed. “Ohhh midterms. I don’t miss those,” he stated. “I know I’ve only been out of college for a couple years, but damn I don’t miss it!”
Joy nudged you. “Your usual?”
You grinned. “Yes m’am! I gotta be fully nourished to study for this stupid Psychology class. I thought I’d love Psychology,” you added. “But having it in a three hour lecture format just blows.”
Thirty minutes later, you were deeply engrossed in lecture notes and flashcards. You were so busy studying, you didn’t hear the bell ring as the door opened. You were looking at your flashcards in your lap, and all of a sudden noticed a pair of worn boots standing close to you. Offended, you brought your head up to tell the guy off for invading your space when your words stopped dead in your throat. A brown-haired, green-eyed, devilishly handsome man was smirking back at you.
“D-Dean! Oh my god! How- how did you find me?” You couldn’t believe your eyes.
“You’re assuming I was looking for you sweetheart,” he retorted. “Just kiddin’. Sammy and I are in town for a hunt. I dropped him off at the morgue and was looking for a bite to eat when I saw your Baby. I’d recognize that car anywhere. I figured I’d stop in here and give you a hard time,” he said with a glint in his eye.
“A hard time, eh?” you said. “I see. Well, I’m in the middle of studying for my Psychology midterm. Would you care to join me?”
Dean’s smirk turned into a smile when you didn’t turn him down, and he replied, “Darlin’, I’d love to.”
An hour later, Dean was quizzing you with your flashcards when his phone rang.
“Sammy, what’s up? …. Uh-huh. Ok. … Yeah, I’ll be right there. Gimme 10 minutes.”
Dean looked at you regretfully. “Well, sweetheart, I’ve gotta go pick up Sammy from the morgue. It was really nice seein’ you.” He looked at you with something almost like hope in his eyes.
You knew you couldn’t let this opportunity pass you up. “Umm… I don’t suppose you’d want to meet up later?” you asked.
Dean grinned broadly. “Here’s my number. Text me your address and we’ll figure somethin’ out,” he said. He grabbed your hand and wrote his number on the back of it. Winking at you, Dean stood up and headed for the door. “I’ll see you later, sweetheart,” he called over his shoulder.
As soon as he left, you texted him your address. “Meet me at 7pm,” your next text said.
You realized it was almost five and panicked. You had to clean up the apartment, shower, and find something suitable to wear for Dean when he arrived.
You drove home in record time and instantly went about putting laundry away, putting dishes in the dishwasher, and picking up school papers and tidying them. You then took a quick shower and chose your best pair of lingerie, hoping your night with Dean would end steamy. Over your dark red lace panties and bra, you put yoga pants and a loose t-shirt that hung over one shoulder. Just as you finished getting dressed, the doorbell rang.
You took a deep breath. This is it, you thought. Here goes nothing. You swung the door open to find Dean standing there about to knock. He smiled at you. “Hey there, sweetheart.”
“Hey stranger,” you managed back. Why was he so handsome? He was in a red shirt, with dark jeans and boots. He’d clearly run his hands through his hair in an attempt to smooth it.
Stepping back, you let him into your apartment. He took his shoes off and followed you to the kitchen. “Drink?” you asked.
“Sure, sweetheart,” he answered. “Thanks.”
You got out a bottle of whiskey and two whiskey glasses. You poured a couple fingers and handed him his drink. Drinking was not what was on your mind though, as you stared at him from under your lashes.
He shifted in his seat at the kitchen table and said, “If you keep looking at me like that, I can’t be held responsible for my actions.” His pupils were blown, lust filling his eyes.
You sidled to his lap and straddled him. “Maybe I don’t want you to be,” you said seductively.
With that, he pulled you flush against him and began to heatedly kiss you, his soft lips crushed against yours. As you kissed, you could feel a bulge building in his pants, and as your tongues fought for dominance in each other’s mouths, you brought one hand down from his hair and began to palm his erection through his jeans.
He moaned against your mouth and bucked his hips. You grinned into the kiss and suddenly Dean was slapping your ass. You jerked, surprised, but it turned you on, and the heat that was already pooling between your legs became more intense. You needed friction. You started grinding against him. The two of you were breathing raggedly, grinding against each other like teenagers.
All of a sudden, Dean growled. “Enough of this. Where is your room?” He stood up with you wrapping your legs around his waist and you murmured, “Down the hall to the right,” as you kissed his neck and sucked on his earlobe. Dean groaned as he walked. “You’re killin’ me, sweetheart.”
You could feel Dean’s erection and you wanted nothing more than to take it in your mouth and get him off. But Dean had other plans for you. His hands were grabbing your shirt, ripping it over your head and throwing it across the room. His face darkened with lust when he saw your red lace bra and he eagerly pulled your pants down to your ankles, where you stepped out of them. Dean stepped back for a minute, admiring you in your lingerie before closing the gap between you and smashing his lips against yours, his hands coming up behind you and unclasping your bra. It fell between the two of you and Dean brought one of his hands back around and started fondling your breast. He massaged it, and rolled the nipple between his fingers. It was hardened, showing how turned on you were.
You decided he had too many clothes on too, and began to work on the buttons on his shirt, letting out a grunt of frustration at how many buttons there were. Dean chuckled into the kiss and deftly finished unbuttoning his shirt. He shrugged it off and followed it with his black t-shirt. He shoved you against the edge of the bed so that you fell back onto it. You watched him hungrily as he undid his pants and brought them down with his boxers. His erection sprang free, and you could see the pre-cum leaking from his head already.
Dean crawled on top of you and began kissing your neck and trailing down between your breasts, down your stomach, and down your leg, ending at your ankle. You had no idea how sensitive your ankle was to kisses but you weren’t about to complain. Your chest heaved as you silently begged for him to relieve your need.
Dimly, in the background, you could hear Dean’s phone ringing. The two of you ignored it as Dean pulled your panties to one side, exposing your drenched pussy. He groaned at the sight of it. “So ready for me, sweetheart. All that for me,” he muttered as he brought his tongue sliding through your folds.
Your response was instantaneous. Your hips bucked, needing more of that friction. Dean grabbed your hips and held them down as he sucked on your clit, pleasure shooting through you. You took one of your hands and fisted Dean’s hair, gently pulling and attempting to guide him. Your other hand went to your breast as you massaged it, desperate to find your climax. Dean’s fingers found your hole, and he slipped two inside as he curled them against your walls, licking and sucking along your pussy. You were close. You could feel yourself tightening, and you moaned, “Dean, I’m gonna cum!”
“Cum for me, baby girl,” he said. “Cum.” He took your clit in his teeth and gently rolled it around in his mouth. With that, your back arched off the bed and you screamed his name, waves of pleasure coursing through you. Dean finger fucked you through your orgasm, your pussy clenching around his fingers over and over again. His tongue lapped your juices, sucking up every drop.
Dean’s phone rang again. And again. “Son of a bitch,” he muttered. He got up and answered it. “This had better be good, Sammy,” he said angrily. He went silent as he listened. “Fuck,” he said. “Ok, I’m coming.”
“Sorry, sweetheart. We’re gonna have to pick this up later,” he murmured as he leaned over to kiss you. You grabbed behind his ears with both hands and held him in place, your lips caressing his. “Don’t go,” you pleaded.
“I’m sorry,” he groaned with frustration. “Trust me, doll, I don’t want to go anymore than you want me to leave. But it’s an emergency. Another person just died. I’ve gotta go,” he explained.
You sighed and released him. “I’ll be waiting,” you said, and spread your legs wide so he could get a good look.
“FUCK, Y/N. You’re - you’re going to be the death of me,” he stuttered. He got dressed, his erection at full mast. He tucked it into his pants with a groan. “Goddammit Sam, always the cockblocker.”
“I’ll be back, sweetheart,” he said. And just like that, he was gone.
Prompt: "Cas it's not that big of a deal... It's just, you know, my life,"
Summary: Castiel accompanies the reader for the first time as she goes about her day to day activities.
Word Count: 1448
Warnings: fluff, blood, death
A/N: This is a request I received a LONG time ago…. turning into my second posted fic. *Hides behind hands* Be nice! Comments and reblogs always appreciated!
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“Y/N, I need to see you… It’s been too long,” said Cas. You knew he was pining, though he would never admit to such a thing. Castiel was your boyfriend of a year, having started dating after you’d been hunting with the Winchesters for a couple months.
You groaned and rubbed your eyes tiredly. Shifting the phone to the table, you press the speakerphone button. “Cas, you know I want to see you.. But I’m almost always on a case. Try to understand…” you trailed off as you realized you didn’t really know how to explain the chaos that ran your life. The life of a hunter was not one that could be explained easily, even though he should know that.
Before, you’d been with the Winchester brothers, so you had been able to split the work between the three of you. Now, however, “you were starting to get weaned”, as they put it. You had to admit, he might not understand the life of a solo hunter, since he was used to the Winchesters being a hunting team.
Cas’s voice perked up through the speaker. “Y/N, I have an idea. Why don’t I accompany you for a day? Things are quiet enough in heaven that I could take a day and not be missed too much. I can see you working a case as a solo hunter!” As he finished, your eyebrows went up as you contemplated.
Nodding to yourself, you responded with growing excitement, “Let’s do it! What day do you want to come visit?”
“How about tomorrow?”
------
**Bleep bleep bleep**
“Shut up!” You slapped your alarm angrily as your dream faded from memory. Just as you were about to put your pillow over your head, you remembered. Cas was coming today! You sat bolt upright in bed, panicked. Cas couldn’t see you until you were absolutely perfect! For once, you were going to have to put yourself completely together. Make-up beyond eyeliner and mascara, a decent outfit, shower, hair done - maybe in a braid, etc. Letting your head drop forward on your chest, you moaned softly. “It’s so much effort…” you complained quietly.
“Good morning, beautiful,” said a familiar, deep, slightly raspy voice.
Your head shot up, all goals of cuteness forgotten. “CAS!” you squealed. Scrambling onto your knees, you launched yourself at him.
He caught you in a tight hug, his face buried into your hair. “Sorry I came early. I just couldn’t wait to see you. It’s been so long.” Cas’s voice was muffled as he spoke quietly into your neck.
“It’s ok. I’m so happy to see you, Cas,” you replied, trying not to tear up. The two of you had not seen each other since you’d started being able to hunt on your own, over three months ago.
Pulling back slightly, you smiled up at him and said, “Let’s get the day started, shall we?”
Thirty minutes later, you were dressed in your usual gear- a plaid button down, boyfriend jeans, and combat boots. Your hair was pulled back into a ponytail, and you had the typical amount of eyeliner and mascara. You’d decided to say fuck it, and dress as you would any other day. After all, Cas wanted to see a day in your life.
Castiel sat down at the table as you pulled your phone out and called Dean. His eyes widened as you piled books and files in front of him. Dean answered, and you briefly updated him on what you’d discovered about the vampire you were hunting. He gave you some pointers and then hung up, wishing you luck.
The morning was comprised of going through files of victims and witnesses, and books on vampires. This was your first solo vampire hunt, so you were going to make sure you did your homework. Cas sat quietly, reading with you, offering observations and opinions as he felt they would be relevant.
Around lunch time, it was time to grab a bite at the local diner, and then go interview the family members of the victims, followed up by a visit to the morgue. All visits went without a hitch, and you were grateful Cas was there. His support was calming you significantly. You couldn’t quite tell what he was thinking, but you hoped that being with you was enlightening.
That evening, you had enough leads to be able to do a stake-out outside the bar that the vampire seemed to select his girls from. You had a vague description of the guy, and you knew he went for slightly curvy brunettes.
As you sat in your truck, watching the bar with Cas, you reached over and grabbed his hand. Catching his eye, you said softly, “I’m really glad we got to spend today together, Cas.” He smiled at you as you continued, “I’m sorry if you were bored at all. Some of what we did was kind of tedious, but it’s vital to any case.”
Cas cut in before you could keep talking. “Y/N, I’m grateful I could get to see you in action. I’m proud of you.” He raised your interwoven fingers and kissed the back of your hand. You blushed and mumbled, “Thanks, Cas.”
You glanced out the window and noticed a rather attractive, though sketchy guy, leaving the bar with a curvy brunette. You sat up straight and let go of Cas’s hand. You waited a moment, your hand on the door handle.
The guy, Lucas, led the girl down an alley. With that, you grabbed your machete and barreled out of the truck. This was your favorite part. You’d turned out to be a gifted runner and fighter- something you hadn’t known before you started training with the Winchesters. Now you could show off to Cas. You rounded the corner of the alley and saw the girl about to take something from a syringe.
“Hey! HEY! Drop the syringe!” you yelled. Lucas turned, surprised. He saw your machete and his eyes narrowed. Growling, his fangs descended and he gripped the girl by her neck. He dragged her in front of him and backed away. Suddenly, Cas appeared in front of him and yanked the girl away from Lucas. You took the opportunity and attacked. It was clearly not Lucas’s first encounter with a hunter, you realized, as he ducked around the blade and landed some swift punches to your gut. As soon as he pulled his arm back, Lucas whipped out a knife of his own.
As you doubled over wheezing, you swung a massive uppercut and contacted just below his chin. His head rocked back and he stumbled backwards. The two of you circled each other, throwing punches and taking swings with your blades. An unlucky thrust of his knife contacted your forearm that left a deep, oozing cut. You growled in pain and anger, and swung at him. Lucas sidestepped the attack and managed to leave another deep cut, this time trailing from your collarbone to your third rib. As you felt the white hot pain, you decided you’d had enough. You doubled your attack, and with a vicious sweep of your arm, you got through his guard and sliced his head from his shoulders. The head rolled away from the lifeless body as the blood spilled steadily from the gaping neck.
Panting, you looked around for Cas and saw him a few yards away, looking white and anxious. As you walked past Lucas’s body, you wiped the blade on his shirt. Cas looked you up and down, his face drawn tight with concern.
“Y/N… Are you ok?”
You stopped in front of him and gave him a small smile. “Just dandy, Cas.” Castiel reached out and put two fingers over the cut on your arm and two over the cut on your chest. You felt a wonderful warmth seep through your body, and you watched, awed, as the wounds closed.
“Y/N, I don’t want you doing this.. It’s too dangerous- you could be killed!” The worry laced through Cas’s voice, and your heart melted a little at how much he cared.
“Really, Cas it's not that big of a deal... It's just, you know, my life. It’s the life of a hunter.” You stepped forward and hugged him. “I was trained by the Winchesters.. Do you really think I would hunt by myself if they didn’t think I could handle it?”
Cas chuckled and shook his head. “You are right. And I would kill them myself if they let you take a case you couldn’t handle.”
Tilting your head upwards, he gazed into your eyes. “I love you, Y/N.”
Ask: Demon!Dean x reader. Dean is in the bunker and he ain't happy, he's out for vengeance because you, Cas and Sammy had to go and ruin his fun.
Word Count: 782
Warnings: threatening use of weapon
A/N: My first Demon!Dean attempt… we’ll see how well I do, I guess! I can’t remember if Cas had lost his wings by the time Dean became a demon… but for the sake of the story, he has them. ;) Feedback appreciated! It’s more of a drabble this time, @katelynw93 , I hope that’s ok!!
You missed your boyfriend. You had stuck by him the best he’d let you. But Dean as a demon was a hard pill to swallow and getting him to care about anything was even harder. Dean had treated you like a hooker, texting you to come to his hotel room whenever he wanted to fuck, and dumping you aside for the rest of the time. It hurt like hell, but you were going to show him you weren’t leaving him, even if it was the most painful thing you’d ever gone through.
Currently, Dean was stalking through the bunker, looking for any of the three people who had ruined his fun at the bar. He had been beating the shit out of some sap who dared try to hit him over a spilled beer. Sam, Cas, and you had grabbed him before he’d managed to kill the guy. Cas had then knocked him out with his double fingered tap to the head.
Unfortunately for the three of you, he’d broken free of his restraints and he was on the hunt with a butcher knife from the kitchen. You’d been hiding around the corner and saw Dean leave with the knife. You texted Sam and Cas a heads up, Butcher knife. Better watch out. Dean was calling out for each of you, taunting you, challenging you to come out from hiding.
Fortunately, Sam had been able to sneak to the armory and lock it, preventing Dean from getting anything else more dangerous that could hurt the three of you. He stuck the key in his pants pocket and slunk away, senses on high alert, taser at the ready. He’d taken the opportunity to raid the armory before he’d locked it. Dean might have a knife, but Sam would be damned before he took a shot at his brother.
Cas was poofing around, using his wings to go from one room to another. It was not only a way to stay out of Dean’s way, it was also a way to find him and track him. Cas appeared in front of the bunker lockdown lever, and pulled it. The emergency lights immediately came on, and he vanished again.
You hid with handcuffs and a knife around the corner from the kitchen. Once Dean left, and headed the other direction, you bee-lined it for the cupboard under the sink. You knew you couldn’t stay there forever, but you also knew in a hands on match you could only keep up with Dean for a couple minutes before he overpowered you.
Pulling your phone out, which was on silent, you texted Sam and Cas another update: He left the kitchen.
Suddenly, the cupboard doors in front of you flew open. Shit.
Dean dragged you from under the sink and laughed evilly. “You really thought you could hide from me, sweetheart? I own you. I know you better than you know yourself. You’re mine. And now? Now you’re gonna pay for what you did.” He raised his hand with the knife in it, ready to slice down. You managed to swing your knee up and made hard contact with his crotch, hitting him in the balls so hard he dropped the knife and doubled over.
“Cas!! Now!” you yelled. You were snapping the handcuffs on him as he bent over in pain, grunting, holding his throbbing balls. Cas appeared in the kitchen and popped his two fingers to Dean’s forehead, dropping him like a stone.
Sam came running in and screeched to a half when he saw his brother on the floor in handcuffs. “He left the kitchen, huh, Y/N?” he teased.
“Shut up,” you said. “I saw him leave! I didn’t hear him come back, the bastard.”
“How’d you overpower him?” Sam asked.
You blushed. “I may or may not have gone for the balls. I hope he forgives me once we’ve cured him,” you said sheepishly.
“Guys, we need to secure Dean in the dungeon,” rasped Cas in his deep voice.
“Right,” responded Sam. “Cas, help me get him up.” Cas took a step forward and grabbed Dean under one arm while Sam went to the other side. You would have offered to help, but you knew the boys were the best suited for the task of moving Dean’s tall, built body.
Sam and Cas had carried Dean downstairs and had him tied up again in the chair in the dungeon, this time in chains. Dean was still out, his head lolling against his chest. Your heart hurt to look at him like that, but you knew it was for everyone’s safety.
It was time to cure the demon and get your boyfriend back.
