starving-children-in-third-world-countries

I Believe You

Requested by Anonymous
Written at spnfanficskatoli

Author: Assbutt

Character: Dean

Reader gender: female

Warnings: smut, fluff, cussing, fighting

“I clean up nice.” You smiled and complimented yourself, looking in the mirror.

The navy blue gown with jewels lining the top was flattering on you, the black stilettos really topped it off, too. Your hair was twisted up with an emerald pin, little curls were framing your face.

You left your apartment, gun strapped to one thigh, dagger strapped to the other. Your clutch held a couple little darts you could stick in necks to make the people sleep for a few hours. Your mission was to find the mafia leader of this city, and take him down. You had been training and waiting for years for a job like this. Eight years in training for fights and combat, now you were ready.

When you arrived at the ball, an usher took you to the main dining hall, it was filled with gorgeous men in tuxedos and stunning women in gowns such as yours. The room was overwhelmed with beautiful, rich people. It was a charity ball for starving children in third world countries, the sad part was that half the people were here for publicity. You search the room for big, burly men that may seems suspicious. They would be your way to the mafia leader.

You shuffled through the crowd to the bar, ordering your favorite drink and looking as casual as possible. Two tall men, one with long hair and one with short spiky hair struck you a little peculiar, or out if the ordinary, but maybe it was just how attractive they were so you let it slide. There was a large, ominous looking man over and the back corner sort of guarding a door.

As you left the bar to go speak with him, there were two gunshots and people scrambling, but the two men you noticed earlier stood their ground. You slithered through the mess of people and jumped on the back of the large man by the door.

Three men came from the room he had been guarding and one pushed you against the wall and started beating you, you pulled the dagger from your left thigh and slashed his throat open. You were nowhere near above defensive killing.

The second pulled a gun and held you around the throat, he cocked the gun and put it against your temple. You flipped him over your shoulder only to be punched to the floor by another man. He stabbed you in the stomach as you tried to push him off. You struggled beneath him and you were definitely going to bleed out if he didn’t get off of you. Your side hurt like hell and your dress was practically torn to shreds.

The long haired guy from earlier splashed the four of you with water. The three men fell over cringing and the long haired man’s friend came to help you up.

“I’m Dean, this is my brother Sam. We’re gonna need you to stand back, miss.”

“Uh okay. I’m (y/n).” You said, feeling a little faint.

Sam started speaking, “Exorcizamus te, omnis immundus spiritus, omnis satanica potestas, omnis incursio infernalis adversarii…”

“What the hell is going on?” You whispered to Dean.

“Uh they’re- they’re possessed by demons.” Dean laughed nervously.

You fainted.

***********

“Shit.” You groaned. Your eyes peeled open slowly and you stared at a water stained ceiling that definitely wasn’t your own. You sat up and regretted it immediately, your head starting to swim.

“Hey, you’re awake!” Dean smiled and came from the bathroom. You were in a motel room.

“I’m too tired to freak out, so if you’re a murderer, get it done quickly.” You sighed and scooted back on the bed a bit.

Dean laughed lightly, “I’m not going to hurt you. We brought you back here and Sammy went back out to make sure the job was finished. He’ll be gone for a couple hours. I stitched you up, you got hurt pretty bad.” Dean motioned to your stomach as he spoke.

You were now just wearing a baggy t shirt and your undergarments. He- he dressed you. He took off your clothes and changed you. You didn’t have enough energy to freak out, but in all honesty, it was kinda hot.

You lifted your shirt and looked at the wound, “Uh thanks. You um- you- you changed my clothes.” You said nervously.

“Yeah. Your dress was basically shredded and, it didn’t look very suitable for sleeping in, seeing that you passed out.” He sat on the bed and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry if I made you uncomf-”

“No! No, it’s- it’s fine. It’s worth it if I was gonna bleed out other wise. I’m just a little… Self conscious.” You sighed and let the hem of the shirt back down.

“You shouldn’t be. You’re gorgeous.” Dean smiled and reached over to squeeze your hand reassuringly, but he kept holding it.

“Th- thank you. I don’t- ” You gulped.

“I mean it.” Dean leaned closer and put a finger under your chin. “Beautiful.” His eyes lingered on your lips.

Your heart was beating at a million miles an hour, and you leaned in to kiss him. You backed away after a few seconds and looked into his deep green eyes.

“If you don’t believe me, I’m gonna show you how stunning you are.” Dean’s hand stayed cupping your cheek as he spoke softly.

“Dean-” you breathed as you closed your eyes.

He kissed you again, running his tongue along your bottom lip. You let his tongue in between your lips as you ran your hands up his back and into his hair. His kisses started going up your jaw and he nibbled on your earlobe shortly before starting to kiss your neck. You leaned your head back to give him more access and he started nipping and licking at your collarbone. You played with the hem of his shirt and tugged it off of him. Your shirt was next and he tossed it behind him.

He growled when he saw your matching black lace bra and panties. You bit your lip as he ripped your bra open and pressed his lips against one of your nipples. You let your bra fall and you flung it away. He swirled his tongue on the aroused peak and his fingers worked at the other one.

You arched your back into his touch, “Dean- oh god.”

“Sexy.” He said against your chest as he switched sides.

He went up to kiss your lips again, “Lovely.”

He moved backwards and stood at the end of his bed to take off his pants and boxers. You looked at him and blushed from how incredibly hot he was. He leaned over to hook his fingers in your wet panties and dragged them down your legs. He pulled you down the bed a little so that he could pull your legs over his shoulders.

His face dipped down and his tongue slid through your wetness, making you buck your hips towards his face.

“Dean! Gonna- Nngh.”

“That’s it, baby. Cum for me.” He slid two fingers into you as he sucked on your clit and that sent you over the edge.

“DEAN! FUCK!” You screamed.

He licked you clean and let your legs fall back on the bed. He loomed over you and bent down to kiss you. You tasted yourself on his lips and that turned you on all over again.

“You ready, my goddess?” He whispered.

You nodded furiously, unable to to form any words. He smiled and kissed you again before pushing in slowly. You moaned when he hit your gspot, thank god he started moving instantly. He thrusted slowly but he started getting a little rough and slamming into you. There were no complaints, of course. With every thrust he whimpered quietly, and it was one of the best sounds you’ve ever heard, along with the sound of his hips snapping against your thighs.

“Dean…” You breathed.

“So tight. So good. So pretty.” He groaned.

He twitched inside you and came with a scream of your name. He rode it out and your second orgasm topped his off. You were both a moaning mess and when it was all over you don’t know how you got back down to earth. Dean pulled out and pulled you into his chest while he laid the sheets over the two of you.

“Your after sex glow makes you even more mesmerizing.” Dean smiled and kissed your forehead.

You laughed lightly.

“I mean it!” He laughed. “Do you believe me now?”

“I believe you, Dean. I believe you.”

You kissed the tattoo on his chest and fell asleep in minutes in his arms. You felt beautiful.

Food shame, the holidays, and you: how to NOT be a dick this holiday season

There’s a saying in yoga - keep your eyes on your own mat. The concept behind this saying is that it isn’t mindful to look around at what other people are doing during yoga practice. We don’t need to have our practice look the same as someone else’s, nor do we have the right to judge how our mat neighbor is practicing. In this same vein, I have a suggestion for you this holiday season - keep your eyes on your own plate.

Here are 5 examples of ways you can respect other people’s food choices and not be a concern-trolling dick this holiday season. Remember that all human behavior is purposeful. When you think about it critically, what are you hoping to gain through your actions?

Scenario 1: So you see that cousin Rita has taken a second slice of pie! You cannot let this stand! There are CALORIES in that slice of pie! And cousin Rita is already fatter than you are comfortable with because you are a firm believer in societal beauty norms, which must mean she’s unhealthy, right? So you need to save her from herself. Before you open your mouth, ask yourself this question: why do I feel the need to be a concern troll? And then return your eyes to your own plate.

Scenario 2: You see that uncle Larry has left a few fork-fulls of food on his plate - you know that there are starving children in third world countries (FYI: there are probably starving children down the street from you too), and you must inform uncle Larry of the atrocity of not finishing his dinner even though he feels fully sated. Before you open your mouth, ask yourself: why do I feel the need to force feed someone? And then return your eyes to your own plate.

Scenario 3: Aunt Ruth mentioned that she was trying to lose weight last year, but you see her filling her plate in such a way that you feel compelled to remind her of her previous weight loss hopes, to “help her get back on track.” Ask yourself: is it actually my job to keep others “on track” with dietary or other health goals?  What gives me the right to impose my thoughts about someone else’s body on to them? And then return your eyes to your own plate.

Scenario 4: Weird Marnie appears to have bypassed the meat platter altogether. Is she not eating meat now? What about her protein intake?! What makes that any of my business? Return eyes to plate.

Scenario 5: Finally, this one is for you, yourself. You finish your dinner and suddenly realize that you’re still hungry. In order to justify having another scoop of something, you are sure to mention how you had a small lunch and that you’ll be “working this off later.” Then after you’re done eating, you suddenly feel guilt and find yourself saying how you didn’t “need” that last scoop (even though you weren’t sated). Ask yourself: Why do I feel the need to justify how I feed my body? How is my body anybody else’s goddamn business? And then actually try to enjoy this fucking holiday instead of micromanaging every morsel of food that enters your body.

When you’re hungry, give yourself permission to eat. When you’re sated, give yourself permission to stop. And don’t let anyone concern troll you.

Happy Holidays.