congrats boo!!

she gave everything for this, she left the disappointment of the olympics as soon as possible and went straight back to the spirit to carry on battling for the championship, missing out at the last hurdle is fucking heartbreaking.


Imagine an evening cooking with Dean.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 700

Warning: Language, Fluffy fluff

Requested by: @adasinwonderland said: Hey boo. Congrats on your milestone. Can I request a Dean x reader with fluff and teasing about her cooking skills? Love you xoxoxoxoxoxoxo - Ada

A/N: Thank you for the request! This may totally suck. I apologize in advance. I kind of blow when it comes to writing pure fluff. Sorry!

Fun with Food

Cooking with Dean was always adventure, a messy one sure, but an adventure nonetheless. Usually he was the one teaching you how to cook because quite frankly he was a brilliant cook. Everything he whipped up for breakfast, lunch, and dinner was succulent and delicious. Your mouth watered at just the thought of Dean’s cooking. You were almost as addicted to his cooking as you were to Dean himself.

Tonight however the tables were turned. It was your turn to show Dean what a master you were at baking.

“Come on Y/N, let’s get real princess. I’m the master chef. You can’t even roast a marshmallow right,” he laughed, his smile reaching his eyes. Seeing him so happy made everything feel normal for once, even if he was making fun of your cooking skills.

“Watch your mouth, Winchester!” You warned, tossing flour at his perfect, stupid face. “You won’t get to try this pie if you don’t start sucking up to the cook,” you promised, tossing more flour at his black shirt.

“You’re gonna get it, kid!” he bellowed, chasing you around the island in the kitchen. You shrieked and darted away from him, but not quick enough. His arms were wrapped tightly around your waist before you could move more than a foot, as he swung you around in a circle, a delighted squeal falling from your lips.

“Put me down, Dean,” you begged as you beat at his arms. “Or you’re gonna pay,” you threatened.

“What are you gonna do about it, sweetheart?” he laughed, a deep, rumbling chuckle vibrating through your body as he dropped you to your feet and held you close to him, his lips grazing the soft spot below your ear.

You reached over to the counter to grab the homemade whipped cream that you had made and shoved it in his face. “This!” you exclaimed before slamming the cream into his face, easily able to slip away because he had let go of you in shock.

“You’re DEAD!” he cackled, unable to hide the excitement in his voice as he took off running after you down the hall. You turned around to see how close on your heals he was when his rock hard body collided with yours, sending you both tumbling to the ground. Dean’s heavy body came to rest on top of yours, his knees on each side of your hips, his hands pinning your wrists to the floor.

As you lay laughing and squirming beneath him, he leaned over and rubbed his face all over your neck, leaving behind a sticky mess. “Dean!” you gasped, trying desperately to wiggle out from under him with very little success.

He pulled back with a laugh. “I win,” he said before leaning over and licking a long stripe along your neckline, the taste of you and whipped cream overwhelming his senses so that he couldn’t help but moan against your neck. You arched into him, unable to keep your body from reacting. “God, this whipped cream is incredible. Mixed with the taste of you,” he sighed as he attacked your neck again, lapping up the remaining whipped cream that he had smeared there.

He had let go of your wrists at this point, and you snaked your hands around his neck and pulled his lips to yours. “I told you I could cook, Dean,” you whispered, your lips close to his before licking the whipped cream off the side of his face. “Damn, that does taste good,” you moaned, closing your eyes and relishing in the taste that was pure Dean.

Immediately his lips were on yours, moving hungrily against yours as if he was devouring you. He moaned into your mouth, and you could feel his excitement growing above you as he reached to pull your shirt off of your body. “Dean, what about the pie?” you asked breathlessly, your chest heaving as he stared at your bare chest.

“Fuck the pie, I want you for dessert,” he muttered before attacking your lips once more.

“How about you fuck me instead of the pie?” you suggested with a breathy laugh as he sucked a mark just below your ear.

“You read my mind, princess,” he moaned as he removed his shirt, all thoughts of your baking lesson long gone from your mind at the sight of Dean’s chest bare before you.

Forevers and Dean Bean Lovers Below, Bitches

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