“World’s best pie,” Dean muttered as he pulled into the small diner’s parking lot. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
Grabbing a seat at the counter Dean looked to the specials board. A loud sensual groan snapped his head around. His jaw dropped a little at the sight of you. Eyes rolling into your head as it felt back, a look of pure satisfied bliss on your face.
As your eyes opened you immediately went bright red when you found a gorgeous man at the counter staring at you. “Sorry, it’s just really good pie. Like, we’re talking orgasmically good here!”
“Yeah I’ll bet, it sounds like you just had one!” his face went bright red as his eyes got wide. “Oh my god I am so sorry! I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just gonna turn around now and mind my own business.”
Warnings: Smut, fighting, smut, rough smut, Sub!Dean, Dom!Dean (sorta), Dom!Reader, Sub!Reader, gambling, smut, use of sex toy, smut, oh…did I mention smut?
Word Count: 3819
A/N: This was written for @avasmommy224 birthday smut challenge. My prompt is in bold and please forgive me for this lol I had an idea so out of my comfort zone and ran with it. Please leave feedback! it is welcome and appreciated
There will be a part 2 later today!!!! Maybe even a part 3 in the future!
You love your job, plain and simple. You were probably one of the few people who had the pleasure of saying that but it was true. Sometimes things got a little heated but you were more than equipped to handle just about any situation tossed your way. You had just dealt the halfway mark of the current blackjack game at the casino you worked at. It was a table full of testosterone to say the least. One guy is burly with tattoo sleeves down both arms, definitely someone to steer clear of in any kind of hostile situation, the next is a bit smaller than him and drop-dead gorgeous. He’s slightly built and has the most stunning green eyes you have ever seen and every now and then you catch those eyes travelling up and down your physique; what’s visible due to the waist high blackjack table that is. You catch yourself having to fight a smile back every now and then whenever he looks up at you and sends you a flirty wink or two. Casino rules and expectations can be very tricky and the wrong hand gesture or facial expression can throw up red flags, cheating was severely frowned upon and anyone was a suspect.
Warnings: Can’t think of any. Pretty much just fluff.
A/N: This is a real people fic but it is an AU Mini Series. Jensen is a photographer, Jared owns a bar and Misha is a doctor. It is my first time writing a real people fic in AU so lets hope I don’t fall on my face completely here.
I didn’t write this chronologically as I usually do. I wrote everything that the narrator tells us first and build the story around that. The narrator’s story can be read without the actual story and the actual story can be read without the narration. The narrator only actually tell us the things in cursive, the rest is Jensen’s PoV ;) Again let’s hope I land on my feet with this one.
It is written for @avasmommy224’s Birthday Challenge and Jenn is a total sweetheart who let me make a series out if this. The prompt is in part 2 and the acquired smut is in part one, I reused the prompt partially in this part which is the final part.
Happy Birthday Jenn. Hope you enjoyed it.
Thanks to to my fav Erin aka @blacktithe7 for being the rockstar she is and betaing this for me.
NO HATE AGAINST DANNEEL. I LOVE HER - THIS IS FICTION. PRETEND SHE IS HAPPY WITH SOMEONE ELSE
You see, love doesn’t always start with fireworks. Not the eternal kind. Not unconditional long lasting kind. Their kind of love never ends and do you know how I know? I witnessed it. I watched it grow stronger every day. I watched the way my dad looked at my mom and the way she would blush. She still does. After 3 kids and 18 years of marriage, they still kiss each other every day. Mom still falls asleep on the couch leaning against my dad on movie night. He still looks at her with as much love as he did in my very first memory of them, if not more.
Y/N did write her book. Actually she wrote several, and Jensen never stopped taking pictures. His works are displayed in various museums and magazines, but my favourite pictures he ever took are the ones of his family.
There is a staircase at Jensen and Y/N’s house. My childhood home. The wall is covered in pictures my dad took of Mom, Jaydan, Brice and me, but in the middle of all the photographs is my mom’s handwriting. It says “My Favourite Day”.
happened two nights ago, so I’m still replaying it over and over in my
head. I thought this would be a good place to share. I’m a pretty
predictable person, with a predictable schedule, so I’m not sure if this
was a random occurrence or if someone knew my nightly routine.
Warnings: SMUT/NSFW text (if you’re not 18, come back when you are!), mild canon typical violence, adult language
Word count: about 2,100
A/N: Hey y'all!! Sorry it’s been awhile, writer’s block has been killing me! But hey, here’s a little something I finally got around to posting! Hope you enjoy it, cause I spent way too much time trying to get it finished!
This was written for two challenges! The first is for Jenn’s Birthday Challenge! Happy birthday @avasmommy224!! Here’s your SMUT, my quote was, “We must all face the choice between what’s right and what’s easy.”
The other challenge is Katie’s 1K challenge!! Congrats on the followers milestone @casbabydontgoineedyou! My quote was, “Just let it be, we’ll figure it out later.”
Be sure you’re following these two amazing writers, they are totally worthy of your attention!!
You were sure he’d be furious. You’d jumped in and now you were a bloody mess. If history had taught you anything, it was that Dean Winchester was going to be livid with you. You’d never hear the end of how reckless and dangerous your actions had been, even though you’d saved his ass. Fighting with each other, both of you spewing venomous words, at each other’s throats for hours, was the only way the two of you knew how to release your frustrations and break the always building tension in your friendship.
When Sam had yelled that he needed more time to find the artifact keeping the ancient vengeful spirit around, you dashed into the grand hallway of the mansion where the older brother was being tossed around like a rag doll. The ghost suddenly appeared above Dean, her white Victorian dress billowed around her as she plunged her hand into his chest and he screamed out in agony. Instinctually, you yanked the iron candleholder off the wall and swung it unceremoniously through the woman’s torso and she vanished momentarily.
“Hurry it up, Sammy!” you yelled over your shoulder, before you were violently throw by an unseen force into the wall. The impact was severe enough to shatter the large stained glass window above. You threw your arms up to cover your face and the shards showered down on you, nicking your exposed skin.
The malevolent spirit reappeared, rushing forward, her hands closing in around your throat. She slid you up the wall, fingers crushing your windpipe as your feet dangled inches above the ground. The sound of Dean screaming your name was starting to fade as the blackness began to creep in the edge of your vision. Just as you were about to lose consciousness the ghost erupted in a flash of sparks and flames before disappearing altogether. You came crashing back to the floor, gasping for air.
“Son of a bitch…” Dean was rushing to your side, kneeling haphazardly over the broken glass that surrounded you. “Dammit, Y/N, I thought I told you to stay with Sam…” he said, examining you.
“Yeah, and let you become ghost chow? You’re welcome…” your voice was hoarse, but still forceful. You knew he wasn’t a fan of bringing you along, the two of you spent almost as much time fighting each other as you did fighting evil, but frankly you didn’t give a rat’s ass what he thought. You’d been hunting long before you met the Winchesters and Dean’s shitty attitude wasn’t going to stop you now.
Rather than arguing with you, as you expected, he simply grabbed you by the hands and stood, pulling you up with him, “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up.” His unusual calmness made you worry. Fighting is what you and Dean did best and you weren’t used to him conceding this easily.
Once on your feet, you winced painfully as a sharp pain pierced your left side. You lifted your shirt to find a large piece of glass embedded at least two inches deep into your skin right below your last rib.
Preview: Jensen is a dreamer from a loving family. Y/N is an orphan and realist struggling to hold onto dreams of her own. Their path cross when the photographer and journalist end up working together and quickly form an unbreakable bond that few seem to understand. Their lives take them in different directions until one day she shows up on his doorstep pregnant and in tears.
A/N: This is sorta two stories in one. All written in cursive can be read as one story and is told by a narrator I am not willing to reveal who is. Read and find out. The rest is Jensen’s story. It is told side by side and are rolled up into one, but hopefully it is also written so one story can be read without the other.
This entire 3 part mini series is my entry of @avasmommy224’s birthday challenge. The challenge was to include smut (which you can find at the end of part one and is skippable for those that prefer the story without it).
The prompt I chose is in part 2 and sorta reused in part 3. The prompt was: Any day spent with you is my favorite day.
A/N: For @avasmommy224‘s Birthday Challenge! My quote was I’m as mad as hell, and I’m not going to take this anymore! I know you like Dean, so I decided to try my hand at writing him. Hopefully it turned out alright! Hope you have a great birthday :)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: Unprotected smut (be safe), explicit language, mentions of violence
Word Count: 3501
The drive back to the motel was tense, the only sound being the Impala’s growl as it sped through the empty roads, moonlight gleaming on its hood. Even Sam had decided to go to a bar instead of accompany you and Dean back to the motel after your hunt. He wanted to wait out whatever was about to happen between you and Dean, and he knew it wasn’t going to be pretty.
The hunt went successfully, but it was rough. You, being the overly confident person you were at times, decided to pursue the demon right as you found out what vessel it was possessing. However, you were so eager to hurry up and send it back to Hell and save the day that you might have forgotten to give Sam and Dean a call while they were out trying to figure out the vessel as well. Good thing they were nearly as smart as you because they figured out who the vessel was and sped through the streets quick enough to find you and the demon before your neck got snapped.
Long story short, you were thrown through a first-story window, Dean right after you, and Sam had to take out the demon with the demon-killing knife while you and Dean were stunned. You were still busy picking bits of glass out of your face as you sat quietly in the passenger’s seat. Maybe you should’ve waited for their help, should’ve waited to create a plan, but you just wanted to help.
Now, Dean was pissed, that quiet kind of pissed off that even set Sam on edge. You wished he would just hurry up and yell at you, to break the tension and rant just so that you could yell right back. You weren’t intimidated by him.
As soon as the Impala parked in the motel’s parking lot, you exited without a word, Dean having not even shut off the car by the time you were in your room. You figured he would follow, and your room door slamming shut behind you a few seconds later confirmed that. You whipped around, jaw tight as you adopted a stern glare. “Spit it out, Winchester.”
Quick Info - set after Sam and Dean get out of the prison. Dean is kind of an asshole Word Count - 1500 Warnings - Angst. possible triggers (verbal abuse) Dean is kind of a dick…Don’t say you weren’t warned!
This was written for @avasmommy224‘s Birthday challenge. Happy Birthday, Sweetie!!! My prompt -
“If you love me, you’re going to have to love all the things about me”