!!! - CLOSED TO NEW PROMPTS - !!! SPN -> Wincest Prompting Post // Feb 14 - March 1
NO NEW REQUESTS, BUT PLEASE WRITE FOR ANY PROMPTS THAT SPARKS AN IDEA!
THIS IS THE POST FOR WINCEST!
If your prompt includes more than one Winchester touching each other, this is where it goes. Slash, het, f/f, and anything else you can think of is all welcome and encouraged here! : )
Please try to fill out old prompts in addition to making ( Read more... )
THIS IS THE POST FOR WINCEST!
If your prompt includes more than one Winchester touching each other, this is where it goes. Slash, het, f/f, and anything else you can think of is all welcome and encouraged here! : )
Please try to fill out old prompts in addition to making ( Read more... )
It was fine, Dean kept telling himself. He'd deal with it, go on with life, and eventually everything would reverse itself. The curse couldn't last too long, could it? But now, waking up in the darkened motel room with the sun barely peeking through the curtains, he was instantly aware that something was wrong. Well, MORE wrong than usual. Shifting on the sheets, he felt a cold wetness underneath him.
“What the hell?” Dean asked, confused, as he threw back the covers.
He looked down and jumped up in shock at the sight of a circle of blood covering the white sheet covering the mattress, the bottom of his boxers matching the crimson colors.
“Fuck!” Dean yelled. “Sam!”
“What?” Sam mumbled from the other bed, still half-asleep.
“Wake the fuck up right now!” Dean ordered, his voice raising.
Sam was instantly alert. “What? What's wrong?” he asked, looking around and his eyes finally landing on the bloody messy. He jumped up, coming nearer to his brother. “What happened Dean? Are you hurt? Did you cut yourself?”
“I can't fucking believe this,” Dean mumbled, shifting uncomfortably in the wet boxers that were starting to turn cold and clammy against his skin.
“What?” Sam asked, still confused.
“The curse!” Dean yelled. “It gave me THE curse, Sammy.”
“The...” Sam began before realization crossed his face. “You're having a period?!”
“I can't fucking believe this,” Dean complained again, crossing the room to enter the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.
“Um, Dean?” Sam's voice carried through the wooden door. “Are you...what do you want me to do?”
“I want you to find a way to turn me back, moron!” Dean yelled back, turning on the shower so that he could clean up a little.
“I've been looking!” Sam protested before he lowered his voice. “I'm sorry.”
“It's okay, Sammy,” Dean sighed, stripping off his wet boxers. “Can you...can you go to the drugstore or something? I need to take care of this, you know?” His embarrassment level was rising.
“Sure, yeah, okay,” Sam quickly agreed. “I'll...I'll be back soon, okay?”
“Yeah,” Dean called out before getting into the hot shower.
He took his time, soaping up all over, trying to let the water wash away as much blood as possible before he had to touch himself down there. He still felt extremely unsettled everything he had to do that, despite his bravado around his brother; had to keep on his game face after all.
By the time he was done, he heard Sam return and then quietly knocking on the door. Dean wrapped a towel around his waist and went to open it just a crack.
“Here,” Sam said, shoving a bag at his brother before quickly turning away.
Dean shut the door again and then sat down on the toilet before opening the bag to look inside. What he found made him furious.
“Tampons?!” he yelled. “Sam, what the fuck are these for?”
“They didn't have anything else, Dean!” Sam yelled back. “Between that and the alternative of bleeding all over the place, I figure you'd rather take that!”
“You figured wrong,” Dean mumbled, drawing out the box as if it might jump up and attack him at any moment.
He eyed the package slowly before opening the box and, God help him, he actually searched for some kind of instructions. Dean Winchester could deal with a lot of things, but this endeavor needed explicit instructions if he was going to get through it.
Soon he found the folded up sheet of paper, pulling it out and trying to ignore the pink wrappers that lay in the box. Unfolding the paper, he look at it and, holy hell, there were illustrations.
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“Dean!” Sam yelled through the door, sounding like he was just on the other side of it. “You have to!”
“Fucking curse,” he muttered. Raising his voice again, he called out, “I can't do it if you're standing right there! Go out somewhere and leave me alone!”
“Are you sure?” Sam asked, his voice sounding quite unsure.
“Yes, I'm sure!” Dean responded.
“Okay, I'll...” Sam faltered a moment. “I'm going to go get us some breakfast.”
“Sure, yeah, sounds good,” Dean said, but his voice held none of the assurance the words did.
Dean waited until he heard the door to the room open and close, then waited another minute in the silence just to be sure. Once he was satisfied that he was alone, he turned back to the instructions.
'Wash your hands with soap and water.'
Dean figured he could skip that part, since he had just taken a shower.
'With dry hands, unwrap the tampon.'
He looked into the box again, slowly grabbing onto one of the pink cylinders and pulling it out. He set the box on the ground beside him, then turned his attention back to the instructions.
'Sit or stand in a comfortable position. Some women prefer to place one leg on the toilet seat or tub, while others prefer to squat down.'
This was turning into a gymnastics routine. Was it really supposed to be this complicated? He stood up and turned around, placing the instructions on the countertop beside him before raising his leg to prop it on the toilet open seat. Quickly grabbing a piece of tissue, he dabbed at his pussy to wipe away the blood that was already beginning to flow again, then threw it into the toilet.
'After you find a position that is most comfortable for you, open the tampon and remove it from its packaging.'
Yeah, got that, thanks. Apparently the instructions were written for idiots.
'Hold the tampon with the fingers that you write with. Hold the middle of the tampon at the spot where the smaller, inner tube inserts into the larger, outer tube. Make sure the string is visible and pointing away from your body.'
This was so humiliating. Dean grabbed ahold of the tampon applicator as instructed, readying himself for what he knew was coming next.
'With your other hand, open the labia (the folds of skin around the vaginal opening) and position the tampon n the vaginal opening. (Refer to diagram)'
Dean Winchester did not need any diagram to find a woman's labia, thank you very much. Except, usually he was looking down on a woman, teasing her and licking her, getting her ready to come. Now he was at a whole other angle and there would be no licking or teasing and certainly no coming! So, yeah, he referred to the diagram.
Satisfied that he had managed to get that part right, he turned back to the instructions.
'Gently push the tampon into the opening, aiming for the small of your back. Stop when your fingers touch your body and the applicator, or outer tube, is completely inside the vagina. (See second diagram)'
Okay, he could do this. He could totally do this. Dean pressed the applicator against his pussy, shivering as the plastic met warm flesh at his hole. He knew he was tensing up, but he couldn't help it. He was about to insert something into himself, into an area that he biologically shouldn't even have. It was a bit unsettling, okay?
Taking a deep breath, he began to ease the applicator little by little into his opening. Soon, he fingers touched against his pussy, as the instructions had said. It felt weird, but he had to keep going.
'Once the applicator or outer tube is inside your vagina, use your index finger to push the inner tube (the tube where the removal string is visible) through the outer tube. This pushes the tampon into the vagina.'
Dean pressed his finger onto the tube, as instructed, and he almost felt sick. He could feel the cotton wad making its way into his body, further and further up into himself. But he couldn't stop now, he was almost done. Oh, God, he was almost done.
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He pulled the tube away from his body, leaving a white string hanging out of him. Dean threw the tubes in the direction of the trash can, not even caring if they made it at this point. He turned his attention back to his pussy, the white string standing out against his dark, curly pubic hair.
Easing his leg down off the toilet seat, he began moving a bit. Surprisingly, he couldn't really feel the foreign object that he had just used to plug up his bleeding hole. Testing it out a bit more, he was relieved to realize that he had done it right the first time. Score one for him, or something. It was a hollow victory, but a victory nonetheless.
He quietly crept to the door, opening it just a bit to look out into the empty room. Sam had not yet returned, thankfully, so Dean could run out and get his clothes from his duffel. In his rush to get to the bathroom earlier, he hadn't thought that far ahead.
Squatting down, he rifled through before finding some boxers, a shirt, and a pair of pants. He quickly gathered up the necessary items and rushed back to the bathroom. Pulling on his boxers, he could see the white string hanging between his legs, mocking him. He closed his eyes and finished pulling up his underwear. Shirt and pants were next, quickly done. He looked at himself in the mirror. He still looked like Dean Winchester, that hadn't changed, but now he was hiding a secret that no one would understand.
He heard Sam rattling the door, calling out that he had breakfast. Dean took one last look at himself, pulling himself together and putting on his game face once again in order to face Sammy. He tried not to think about the fact that he'd have to go through this humiliation again in another few hours. Dean Winchester, welcome to womanhood.
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Thanks for reading!
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