A/N: This doesn’t have the smut y’all were probably hoping for, but dang it– Professor Winchester is a handsome, respectable, intelligent man and I thought it would be a disservice to him if he just jumped into the sack with a student right off the bat. Y’all can blame/thank @ericaprice2008 for this. I posted some time ago that I had several big assignments due, but all I wanted to do was write smut. She said, “Just don’t confuse the two. That could get awkward hella quick.” GUESS WHAT IDEA I RAN WITH. Also, @whimsicalrobots messaged me the day I had a run in with my professor and said “So how’s your day going? See any professors you want to run any ideas by?” Y’all probably don’t remember those moments because this series has taken months to get going, but I thank you again for the inspiration!
By class Wednesday, Charlie was really starting to drive you up the wall. She hadn’t let your dream go for a second and she promised she wouldn’t give it a rest until you divulged every single detail. You’d purposely arrived late to class to have a few extra moments of peace, but you were sure she’d set into you again as soon as class was done.
Professor Winchester had settled into a lecture about the Transcontinental Railroad and its role in the growth of cities when Charlie decided she wasn’t about to wait until the end of class.
“So how’s your day going?” she whispered. “See any professors you want to run any ideas by?”
You ignored her and began taking notes. Since you still couldn’t get yourself to look at him and Charlie was trying to get a rise out of you, you fixed your eyes on your notebook and refused to let them wander.
“You can’t go all class without looking at him,” she continued in a hushed tone. “I know how much you love it when he wears darker colors.” You finally looked up to glare her, but all she did was grin.
Professor Winchester cleared his throat loudly and you snapped your attention to the front of the room in embarrassment–immediately forgetting that you’d been determined not to look at him.
Warnings: some language, a little dirty talk, mild smuttiness, Dean in a white button up with rolled up sleeves
A/N: SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG. Smut is hard and I still feel like a newb? This part isn’t that intense, so hopefully it doesn’t disappoint. I apologize for the petty situation surrounding the beginning of this, but APA IS SERIOUS BUSINESS lol. I tried to make this an entertaining series too because CHARLIE! Unbeta’ed.
You bit your lip nervously and made your way to the front of the room. “Yes, Professor?”
He waved you over, pointing to a specific spot on a paper resting on his desk. “Care to explain this?”
You recognized the paper as one of your own. Resting your palms on the desk, you bent over to skim the paper and try to figure out what you’d done wrong. Professor Winchester rested a hand on the desk next to yours and leaned to peek over your shoulder.
“Notice anything?”
“I-I guess I, uh, forgot to use APA format…” you managed to squeak.
“You guess, huh?” His warm breath and husky voice in your ear sent a shiver cascading down your spine. “You don’t sound very sure, Miss Y/L/N.”
He placed his hand on the small of your back and you suddenly forgot how to breath.
“Refusing to follow instructions…now what should we do about that?”
Closing your eyes, you pressed your lips into a hard line and bowed your head slightly, trying fight back a moan from the innuendo in his words. Your heart hammered in your chest as his hand lightly trailed the rest of the way down your back, caressing the globe of your ass before giving it a harsh squeeze. You whimpered and leaned back into his touch.
“What was that, sweetheart?” You could almost hear the smirk in his voice.
“Please…” you breathed. “It won’t happen again.”
“Good girl.”
He placed a kiss on the pulse point below your ear, and you involuntarily tilted your head away to give him more room. He nipped at your ear, continuing to massage and grip your ass as he began trailing kisses down the side of your neck. Pressing his chest against your back, he sucked a hickey at the base of your neck, marking you as his. His expert lips distracted you enough that you didn’t notice his fingers dancing lower. When he reached passed the hem of your skirt and ghosted over your damp core, you couldn’t help the desperate moan that escaped.
He chuckled darkly, reattaching his lips to your earlobe. “That’s it, pretty girl. Let me hear those sweet sounds of yours.”
A/N: I wrote this for a project for Rob and Louden Swain, run by @mrswhozeewhatsis to show them how much their music inspires us. The song I chose was Amazing, because the lyrics mean a lot to me.
It was very personal to me to tell a story from the readers POV, and it just never came out in a way that I felt was good enough for Rob’s song.Instead I tried writing it from Dean’s POV. The story changed some, but the major things that I take from the lyrics, I feel are still there.
I hope you enjoy reading this story, and please check out the song Amazing (along with their other songs) if you haven’t already.
———————————————————————————————–
Rob – You give so much of yourself to your fans, especially through your music. We could never thank you enough for sharing your words with, not only the SPN Family, but with the world. You have the most calming presence of anyone I have ever met and I am so grateful that you are here. See you in Vegas! ❤
It all started at the end.
The end of the road, the end of a song, the end of a life. That’s where I found everything I never knew
I wanted, and my world started turning again.
She was sassy, among other things. It was the sass that caught my
attention. I’d never heard a girl talk
like that to someone she barely knew, certainly never heard one talk to me that
way.
I had walked into that little bar on the south side of a
dead end road somewhere in the middle of North Dakota. Sam and I had been hunting nonstop for a
month, and he finally decided to stay the night in that run down motel room. I just couldn’t sleep, my nerves too wound up
and my mind wouldn’t stop thinking about how we lost the one person we were
trying to save. So, I did the only thing
I knew to do and took off in my baby, just the two of us – windows down, music
turned up, motor racing down the open road.
Don’t know how I ended up making a wrong turn, but maybe that was fate
playing a card. Who knows anymore? I mean, at some point you just have to stop
asking questions.
I guess I had been sitting there about an hour, just sipping
on some rotgut whiskey when I first saw her dancing with her friends. I envied her a little, that carefree feeling
that I hadn’t felt in so many years I barely even remembered it existed. I tried not to stare, I really did, but she
must have caught me looking anyway. As
soon as that song ended, she walked away from those girls and came to sit at
the bar beside me.
Summary: You agree to take a new job, an opportunity to good to pass up. You and Dean get a weekend alone.
Characters: Dean Winchester x female reader
Word Count: 2479
Warnings: explicit language, explicit sexual content, extreme fluff
Author’s Notes: Written for @atc74 Roll the Dice Challenge. The rules: it has to be an AU, one of the main characters must be a construction worker, must feature or take place at a beach, and it must include horseback riding. With Ang’s permission, I decided to make this part of my Unassuming Life AU which features Husband!Dean. Quick background: Dean owns an automotive shop and is married with two kids, Sam is a lawyer married to Jess, and John and Mary are both still alive.
***My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad, etc) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.***
A/N: Dean x reader One Shot. I’ve been looking for fics about Dean based on Thomas
Rhett’s song “Marry Me.” (Listen to it. It’s SO GOOD and so Dean) I haven’t had much luck, so I decided to write my own.
Song lyrics in bold, current events in regular font, flashbacks in italics.
.
.
She wants to get
married, she wants it perfect
She wants her
grandaddy preaching the service
Yeah, she wants
magnolias out in the country
Not too many people,
save her daddy some money
Ooh, she got it all
planned out
Yeah, I can see it
all right now
Dean took a long pull from his bottle of whiskey before placing
it back in the trunk. Slamming it shut, he rested his hands on the impala. He
let his eyes fall closed and bowed his head as he took a deep breath.
Summary: You’re with Dean at the end. Word Count: 498 [tags under the cut] Warnings: Heartache, major character death, fluff [I guess] I’m so sorry Author’s Note: We’re super excited about these drabbles and hope you enjoy them.
My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.
“We’ll figure it out, Dean,” you croaked, tears streaming down your face. “That’s what we do.”
His lungs were filling with blood with every breath he tried to take. “Not this time, Y/N.” The light in his eyes had started to fade, and you weren’t having it.
You grabbed his shirt and his shoulders, roughly pulling him into you. “No, no, Dean. I won’t let you go. I… I can’t.”
Dean pressed a bloodied hand to your face and pulled you down for a kis. “I ne… never said it, bu… but I lo… love you, Y/N. I do,” he gasped, the wet rattle of his lungs echoing in the warehouse.
“I love you,” you cried, kissing him again, not caring as his blood smeared on your lips.
You felt last breath left him and watched as his hand fell away. “No,” you sobbed. “Stay with me.”
Sam’s hand was heavy on your shoulders. “Let’s get him home.”
The ride was long and filled with this dreadful silence that neither of you dare try to break. There were sniffles and sounds of wiping away tears, but that was it. Even after pulling into the garage, carrying Dean’s body through the bunker, into his room; neither of you said anything.
You left Sam alone to mourn, giving him the time that you knew he would give you. By the time you finished showering and changing clothes, Sam had left, leaving a beaten and battered Dean Winchester; brother, Righteous Man, beloved. He was all those things and more.
Sitting on the edge of the bed, you took his hand in yours and kissed his ragged knuckles. Next, you kissed his palms and the inside of his wrist. You bent over him and kissed his blood-smudged forehead, his nose, and finally, his once-responding lips.
Incoherent sobs racked your body, leaving you hunched over him, your fingers clutching his shirt, shaking him.
“Please, come back, Dean,” you begged. “I… I need you. Sam needs you. God, Dean, we need you so fucking much. Just… please, come back.”
You pushed up and grabbed his face, kissing him again, harder than before. It was pointless, Dean was dead, and there was no coming back from that. Not again. Not this time. But that didn’t stop you.
“Look at me, Dean,” you demanded. “Open your eyes and look at me. Please, I… I’m right here.”
Ashamed of your irrational actions, you hung your head and sighed heavily. You smoothed his shirt and went to stand when something happened, something that made you gasp and scramble away, something that made your blood run ice cold.
Dean’s eyes opened, but they weren’t the whiskey and pine shade you fell in love with. They weren’t just black, they were pitch, void of any color, reminding you of a bottomless cavern, an endless tunnel, death.
With a smirk, he sat up and leveled you with a gaze that made your breath catch in your throat.
***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***
“You bastard!” you screamed, turning and swinging at the green-eyed hunter hot on your heels.
Dean ducked, your fist just missing his chin, his hand coming up and closing around your forearm, as he stepped into you and yanked you against his body. He shoved you backwards until you hit the wall in the bunker’s hallway and held you there, his fingers digging into your hips.
“Y/N, calm down,” he ordered. “You need to get your shit together.”
“That’s my friend you just killed!” you shouted. You twisted your fingers in his shirt and tried to push him away. If he didn’t let you go, you were going to kill him.
“That wasn’t your friend anymore and you know it,” he growled, shoving you backwards again. “That was a demon and she was going to kill you. I didn’t have any choice.”
You knew Dean was right, but it didn’t change how you felt. You pushed him, hard, trying to get away from him, but it was like trying to move a two ton boulder, he didn’t budge. You pummeled your fists against his chest, only to have him grab both wrists and hold them bruisingly tight.
“Y/N, stop!”
You shook your head, your hair flying around your face, a scream building in your throat, but before you could let it loose, Dean’s lips were on yours, hard and rough, stealing the breath from your lungs. He’d never kissed you before, not like this, never like this. It took you by surprise, but you found yourself kissing him back, not pushing him away anymore, but dragging him closer.
Dean’s lips brushed across yours, soft and gentle, the death grip he had on your wrists loosening until you were able to wrap your trembling arms around his neck and push yourself up on your toes, returning his tender kisses, your heart rate slowing, your body relaxing.
Dean pushed the hair from your face, his hand sliding through the strands to cup the back of your head. He rested his forehead against yours.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “But I couldn’t let anything happen to you.”
***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.***
“Come on, Y/N.” Dean tugged on your hand, urging you to follow him. “It’s over. Stop obsessing over it.”
You shook your head and pulled away from him. “It’s not over. I missed something. I just have to figure out what.”
Dean crouched beside you, his hand on your leg. “Baby, look at me.” When you didn’t, he took your chin in his hand and forced you to look at him. “It’s over. There’s nothing you can do. There’s nothing any of us can do. Come to bed.”
You nodded, pushed the book away, and rose to your feet. As much as you wished you could change what had happened, there was nothing you could do. Not anymore. You fell into Dean’s arms, your tears staining his shirt.
Dean wrapped his hands around your neck, his palms just below your chin. He rested his forehead against yours. “Come to bed,” he repeated.
You closed your eyes, your chin dipping in a barely perceptible nod.
He slid his hands down your arms, his fingers intertwining with yours as he dragged you after him toward the bedroom. He stopped just outside the door and leaned you against the wall. He brushed your hair off of your face and pressed a kiss to your lips, your cheek, the edge of your jaw, the line of your throat. He hugged you close, peppering you with tender kisses, kisses meant to soothe and comfort.
You squeezed his hands, tugged him closer, and pushed up on your toes to whisper in his ear.
Summary: You seek out help getting your abusive ex off your back.
Characters: Demon!Dean, female reader
Word Count: 1676
Warnings: mentions of abuse, canon typical violence, mentions of blood
Author’s Notes: This was written for Jill’s aka @sis-tafics Bday Punk Pop Challenge. My song was The Reckless and The Brave by All Time Low (x). I also found this in my drafts and decided to use it: Demon!Dean (prompt – x). Side note: Contrary to what the fic implies and even though I’m “old,” I’m a huge All Time Low fan. My oldest daughter has been a fan since she was 12 years old (she’s now 23) and she used to listen to them in the car all the time. She’s seen them eleven or twelve times in concert and met them three or four times. Needless to say, they grew on me over the years.
***My work is not to be posted on any other sites (AO3, Wattpad) without my express written permission. Reblogs are fine.***
Summary: You see Dean for the first time in two years. Word Count: 297 [tags under the cut] Warnings: Slight angst and fluff Author’s Note: We’re super excited about these drabbles and hope you enjoy them.
My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.
Two years. That’s how long it’d been since you’d seen Dean. Two years, and your heart still skipped a beat like you were a love-struck teenager. You hated it, the magnetic-like pull you felt deep in your gut, drawing you closer to him.
You were in front of him before you knew what was happening.
“Hey,” he sighed, a lopsided smirk tugging at his full lips.
“Hey, yourself.” It came out more of a huff, making it sound like you were irritated. “What are you doing in town?”
Dean shuffled his feet before answering. “Salt and burn, just wrapped it up, thought we’d get a drink before we head out.”
You peered around his shoulder and waved to Sam. “Salt and burn. That it?”
“Nah.” He grabbed your hand and hauled you into the dimly-lit hall behind the bar. It was narrow and cramped, putting his face inches from yours.
Your hands were balled into fists at your side while his were shoved deep into the pockets of his dark green jacket. The air was thick, tangible, and if you reached out, you’d probably feel it between your fingers, twirling it like hair, like the way Dean used to play with yours.
A breath left Dean through his nose when he dropped his head down, his forehead bumping yours. Pulling in a stuttering breath, he tipped his head, his lips brushing yours like a feather, barely there, but enough to send a shiver down the back of your neck.
You pulled back and heaved out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding, dropping your head down and pressing it to his neck a moment later. Without saying a word, you sidestepped and walked away from the only man that had worked his way into your heart.
Star Barnes' Writing Blog 