#{You always have a choice} Dean Winchester

[magdaclaire]

you ever think about who dean would be if his mama got to raise him and crack apart like glass

[writtenmemxries]

Just saw a tiktok that said that Dean is mysoginistic, into underage girls, abusive, straight (lol) and overall a bad person and now I wanna punch someone because they’ll never get him like I do ok

[quietwingsinthesky]

thinking about a version of spn where billie taking on the role of Death functioned on elder scrolls rules, where through performing the role, she Became Death to the point where her selfhood was subsumed into the concept. Instead of idk she was the last reaper that died so she gets the job.

[chappelroan]

GET TO KNOW ME ♡ Favorite Characters ↳ Dean Winchester “That’s crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die or you can keep fighting, no matter what.”

[zepskies]

Hey could I request angsty and fluffy headcanons for Dean having a crush on reader but he thinks she has a crush on Sam but she actually has a crush on Dean back

Hey lovely!

So I kiiiind of already did this type of prompt with "Dean gives you an impossible choice" and its sequel, "Choosing Him."

But I'll do another imagine in this vein for you! ❤️

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Word Count: 1,000 Tags/Warnings: Fluff, angst(ish), fear of unrequited love, mutual pining

Imagine: Dean reads you wrong.

When Dean falls for someone, it's "slow and steady wins the race."

But the spark. That spark is instant.

He feels it with you.

Your pretty smile. Your "get it done" attitude that mirrors his. The way you know all of his references, whether it's movies or TV or music — you grew up learning how to tell time from what was on TV, just like him.

It's the way you laugh with him, share quiet moments of contemplation with him, and even moments of grief with him. Even when it's his grief, you always come. Whether it's to sit beside him, or share a drink with him, or make him something you know he likes, or get him to take a drive with you.

But realistically, you have more in common with Sam.

Both of you are bookish (nerds). You two get into heated discussions about Dante's Inferno and proper Latin translations. (You always accuse Sam of his pronunciations being off, while Sam argues, "At least I remember the whole exorcism. You think the damn demon cares if my vowels are off?")

You and Sam bicker. You playfully tease him, bring smiles to his face just as often as you bring them to Dean's. You're comfortable with him, playfully jabbing his arm or his chest when you mess with him.

Sam takes it with a smile, or a slight roll of his eyes, but always with fondness.

Dean can't help the churning in his stomach. Every time he thinks he has a read on you. Every time he thinks it's safe to maybe, one day, after a hunt, after an episode of Dr. Sexy, after you get out of the shower, after he's made you a home-cooked meal, after you sit with him and talk about everything and nothing while he works on his car — he thinks he might have a shot if he asked you out.

But he always falters, because he just can't fucking tell. He thinks you and Sam have something.

And Dean...he likes you. A lot.

More than he's ever willingly expressed.

But despite his reputation with women, he's never, and will never, step on his brother's toes.

Until he can't help himself.

It's your birthday. Sam got you a series of books he recommended to you last month. (Again, fucking nerds.) Dean got the booze and made the food to celebrate.

But you're surprised, and even a little teary when he brings out the cake he bought at an honest-to-God bakery. He even stood in line, waited 30 minutes to have them write your name on it, with little balloons. The frosting letters are drawn in your favorite color.

"Happy Birthday, sweetheart," Dean tells you. His tone is a little too soft. It's because he sees your unshed tears, and his heart clenches.

It's just a fucking cake.

Does it really matter that much to you?

But he still feels a well of warmth and pride in his chest. He turns to his brother with a smirk. "I win."

It's meant to be playful, but he kind of means it. Sam just eyes him knowingly.

"Sure," Sam laughs.

What the hell does that mean? Dean nearly frowns. But he's soon distracted — by you leaning in close to kiss him on the cheek.

He turns just in time (with slightly wider eyes) to see you blush.

That smile tells him something.

"Thanks, guys," you say to both of them. But your hand lingers on Dean's wrist, squeezing a bit.

At the end of the night, Sam turns in early. You stick around to help Dean clean up.

"Aw, stop. You're the birthday girl. I got this," Dean says, waving you off. You join him at the kitchen counter and lay a hand on his arm.

"Dean," you say softly. It earns his attention. You look a little nervous, your eyes falling from his, then meeting them again.

"What's the matter?" he asks. His brows furrow. He's thinking of your lips on his cheek. Unconsciously he glances down at your pretty mouth.

"Was wondering if you could help me with a birthday wish," you said.

A smile begins to tug at your lips, and Dean can't help but smile back. Intrigue, and a small tremor of something triggers up his spine.

"Oh yeah? What's that?" he asks.

You bite your lip. "Okay...I'm going to ask you this once. Yes or no. And if it's no...then we won't talk about it ever again and you'll have to wipe it out of your memory, because I don't want to make things weird or make you uncomfortable and I don't want to have to do something drastic, like leave the Bunker—"

Dean's smile falls as his brows raise in slight alarm. He also raises placating hands to stop your verbal flapping.

"Whoa, hey. What? What the hell kinda birthday question is this?"

You close your eyes and take a breath. "Okay."

Your eyes open, and as what happens far too often, Dean's captured by them.

"Close your eyes for me," you request.

"My eyes need to be closed to answer a damn question?"

"Damn it, Dean. Just do it, please!"

He lets out a slightly peeved breath, but he obliges you, shutting his lids. He really doesn't know what the hell is going on...until you lay a bracing hand on his chest and press a soft kiss to his lips.

For a moment, he freezes.

He inhales deeply through his nose as the surprise fades.

Relief floods in its wake.

A smile reaches his face.

But soon enough, before you can pull away, he grasps your upper arms to hold you in place. He dips his head down to kiss you in earnest. His lips find yours, gentle at first, and then gaining in passion.

He learns quickly the pattern of your lips, and the heady feeling of that knowing travels straight to his brain, stronger than the whiskey he drank earlier.

It's like you two were made to move together. To end up just like this.

You both are breathless by the time your eyes slide open and meet one another.

Dean's lips curve into a smirk. "How's that answer for ya?"

Your smile is beaming bright.

"Yeah, that works."

Chuckling, he pulls you in closer and tugs a strand of hair behind your ear, his thumb brushing your blush-warmed cheek.

And he answers you again.

AN: Ugh, I'm sappy as hell. 😂 Hope you liked this! Let me know what you think. 😉

Read Sam’s version: “Sam reads you wrong.”

Dean Winchester Imagines

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Dean W. Tag List:

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Auntie Row

Rowena & Winchester little sister!reader, team free will & Winchester!reader

Requested by anonymous

Synopsis: Rowena has a soft spot for the Winchester’s little sister, and they get into lots of trouble together (I suck at synopsis, just read the fic it’s better)

Warnings: honestly nothing, time frame makes no sense with reader’s age but 🤷‍♀️

“Rowena, what do you think you’re doing?”

The witch looked up in surprise when the Winchester brothers entered.

“Sammy!” You, the brothers’ six-year-old sister, ran straight to your big brother and giggled when he lifted you into his arms.

“Oh, you’re back,” Rowena said, cringing. “That was quick.”

“Auntie Row is teaching me how to do magic, like Hermione!” You babbled excitedly.

“Rowena…” Dean growled in warning.

“Now now, she’s a growing girl!” Rowena defended herself. “Learning magic is a perfectly natural part of growing up.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Sam scoffed.

“But Sammy!” You whined.

“Nu-uh,” Sam shook his head. “C’mon, it’s about time you had a nap.” He carried you out without another word to Rowena, who huffed dramatically and started to gather her belongings.

“When we said you could watch Y/N—“ Dean began, but Rowena cut him off.

“I know you didn’t mean this, but honestly Dean Winchester, how d’you expect the girl to defend herself if she can’t use magic?”

“She doesn’t have to,” Dean insisted. “We’ll protect her.”

“Oh honestly, you can’t be around her all the time! If she had magic, she could—“

“For the last time Rowena; no.” Dean’s tone left no room for argument.

“Uh, guys.” Sam returned to the room with a slight frown on his face. “Y/N said she wants Rowena to continue her story from last night. She’s refusing to sleep without it.”

“Well,” Rowena smirked. “Duty calls.”

“Hey.” Dean caught Rowena by the arm, and she glared at him. “Magic always comes with a price. I don’t want her to have to pay it.”

Rowena softened.

“I understand, Dean Winchester.”

His grip slackened, and Rowena left to go to you.

…

“I have a little something for you,” Rowena said as she stepped into your room.

“Can we finish the story?” You asked.

“Of course, sweet girl, of course. But first, I want to show you something. You remember that cursed necklace from the story? The one that protected the witch from the angry mob?”

“Uh-huh.” You nodded excitedly.

“Well, I think it’s time it protected someone else.” Rowena grinned, unclasping the necklace that was hidden behind her shirt and carefully putting it on you.

“Really?” Your eyes went wide as you stared up at the witch.

“Yes. That will protect you from anyone who wants to harm you. That way you don’t have to use any magic, just like your brothers said.”

“Thank you, Auntie Row,” you breathed sincerely, reverence painting your tone as you admired the glowing red jewel.

Rowena leaned forward and kissed your forehead.

“You’re very welcome, sweet thing. Now, let’s finish that story, shall we?”

…

“Kiddo, please, it’s just for a few days,” Sam tried to soothe you, but you still wouldn’t let go of his leg and continued to cry. “Mary’s gonna take good care of you, I promise.”

“I could really help you guys on this one,” Mary argued.

“She needs someone to watch her,” Dean reasoned.

“And why am I the automatic choice?” Mary countered.

“You two are not helping,” Sam said through gritted teeth as he picked you up, letting you lay your head on his shoulder. He hated Mary’s distance from you; you were John’s, but not hers. He understood her reason for not getting close to you, but you were just a little kid, and you didn’t deserve that. Sam just rubbed your back, still trying to soothe you as you continued to sniffle.

“If you boys needed help, you could’ve just asked.”

The three adults turned in surprise at the sound of Rowena’s voice.

“I mean honestly, it’s not like I haven’t babysat before.”

Dean was hesitant. “I don’t know if—“

“Sounds like a plan,” Mary said, going to grab her duffel. She tossed over her shoulder, “now I can help on the hunt!”

“Am I gonna stay with Auntie Row?” You asked Sam, your eyes wide and pleading.

“I…yeah honey, you are,” Sam sighed.

“Yay!” You grinned, wiping your tears away and squirming in Sam’s grip.

“Ok, ok,” Sam chuckled, lowering you to the ground so you could run to Rowena for a hug. “It’s probably best that you guys don’t stay in the bunker.” Sam directed his next words at the witch holding his little sister. “The bunker’s system still goes a little wonky with a witch inside, so one of your safe houses is probably a better idea.”

“That works for me.” Rowena grinned. “How would you like to go to Paris, sweet thing?” She asked you.

“This is a horrible idea,” Dean sighed. But he still grabbed his bag and headed out to Baby anyway.

…

“We’re back!” Sam called as he stepped into the bunker.

“Sammy! De!” You squealed, running to your big brothers and reaching them just as they came down the stairs. Dean scooped you into his arms and held you tight, comforted to see such a happy sight after such a grueling hunt.

“Hey, what’s this?” Sam asked, noticing your outfit.

“Auntie Row took me to shops in Paris, and we got a lot of clothes!” You babbled excitedly as Dean let Sam pull you into his arms.

“You’re spoiling her, Rowena,” Dean chuckled, no longer quite so hesitant about the witch now that he saw how happy you were.

“And she deserves every bit of it,” Rowena said.

…

“Ow!”

“I’m sorry darling, but you must sit still!”

“What’s going on in here?” Sam asked curiously as he stepped into your room to see you and Rowena sitting in front of your vanity.

“I’m trying to do her hair, but she won’t stop squirming,” Rowena explained, running a little pink brush through your hair.

“It’s all knotty!” You whined.

“Well it won’t be in a minute,” Rowena said.

Sam just smiled as he watched you, finally getting experiences that you’d never had before; motherly experiences.

The more he watched, though, the more he noticed how much you were squirming, and how much you seemed to be whining.

“Hey, you seem kinda grumpy, kid. Did you get a nap today?” He asked, coming to stand beside you and Rowena.

“Yeah,” you sniffled.

“You’re kinda pale,” he muttered under his breath, getting on one knee and reaching the back of his hand out to touch your forehead. “Jeez kid, you’re burning up.”

“She’s ill?” Rowena put the brush down and turned your chair around so you were facing her, repeating Sam’s gesture and checking your temperature. “She is quite hot.”

“Hey, let’s get you into some pjs, ok?” Sam suggested, lifting you into his arms. “You should get some sleep.”

“I already had a nap!” You insisted, squirming in Sam’s arms.

“Hey Sammy, I think I found us a case,” Dean said, stepping into your room. “Something wrong?”

“She’s got a fever,” Sam sighed. “You should go without me.”

“Oh nonsense,” Rowena spoke up. “Just leave her with me.”

“I don’t want to leave her when she’s sick,” Sam argued.

“Oh she’ll be fine,” Rowena insisted. “I’ll give her some herbs and she’ll be out like a light, she’ll sleep until you get back.”

“I don’t know…” Sam sighed.

“How about this,” Rowena said. “You put her to bed, and leave once she’s asleep. I’ll watch over her, and I’ll call you if she worsens.”

“Alright.” Sam looked at you. “Is that ok kiddo?”

You nodded sleepily, suddenly not so eager to fight another nap.

“Sammy, my tummy hurts,” you whimpered.

Sam nearly melted at this, more reluctant than ever to leave you.

“I know sweetheart, c’mon let’s get you into some pjs and then you can go to sleep, ok?”

Sam helped you get dressed while Dean packed for the hunt. It didn’t take long to have you tucked into bed, and you fell asleep almost as soon as your head hit the pillow.

Sam lingered in your doorway, unsure about leaving you like this.

“She’ll be fine,” Rowena soothed the Winchester brother. “She’s asleep, and I’ll call you if anything changes.”

“Alright,” Sam sighed, grabbing the bag that Dean had packed him. “Just…take care of her, ok?”

“Always,” Rowena responded.

And she did. When the Winchester brothers returned, your fever had broken and you were resting on the couch with Rowena, some cartoon playing on the tv.

“Hello boys,” she greeted when she saw them.

“Hey kid.” Sam went straight to you, brushing your hair away from your face. “Are you feeling any better?”

Rowena went to speak to Dean while you answered Sam with a distracted “yeah,” continuing to watch your cartoon.

“Her fever broke,” she explained to him. “I think it’s best if she rests a bit more, though.”

“Thank you, Rowena,” Dean said sincerely. “She really seems to like you.”

Rowena smiled. “She does, doesn’t she?”

…

“Did you have fun?” Sam asked you.

You nodded, finally pulling your gaze from the cartoon.

“Yeah, I like Auntie Row!”

Sam smiled softly.

“I’m glad.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl

[deanbrainrotwritings]

— WILD FLOWER

SUMMARY : dean gets hit by a spell when fighting a witch and assumes it was harmless or ineffective. he was wrong, but at least he wasn’t dead. he’s a woman now. 

PAIRING : fem!dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : sam winchester

WARNINGS/TAGS : nsfw(18+), smut, fingering, oral sex, fem!dean (idk, that’s not a warning), misgendering?

WORD COUNT : 5.5k

A/N : title from RM’s song. this was new but very interesting, and I don’t regret it. I imagined dean as a combination of margot robbie and elizabeth olsen?? yeah, idk lol, yall can picture whoever you want. (I hate my 18 year old writing, but here it is) XXX

Dean grunted as he let himself fall into the backseat of the Impala. Sam and Y/N looked at each other and Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she debated walking into the backseat with Dean or riding shotgun. 

“Dean, keys,” Sam reached his hand inside the car and Dean whined quietly, but started to search his jeans for the keys. Y/N watched Dean struggle with finding the keys, a loving smile growing on her face, and he held them out for Sam to take at last. “Sit with him, make sure he doesn’t die or something,” Sam joked to Y/N.

“Fuck you, man,” Dean grunted, moving slightly as Y/N slipped in the backseat with him snickering at him. Dean snuggled into Y/N, mumbling softly against her thigh as she played with his hair.

“You feeling okay, D?” 

He hummed softly and nodded. “‘M just sleepy.” 

She wanted to scold him for jumping in front of her when the witch cast her spell. He knew that she couldn’t be hurt, she had no idea why he would do that. Maybe it was just a habit, but it’s been a long time since he’d treated her like that, as if she were fragile and could easily die. 

She was worried, but he eventually fell asleep with his face pressed into her stomach, curled up on his side. He looked so adorable when he slept, a little smile tugged at her lips and she took the blanket they kept in the backseat and placed it over his body. 

“Think he’s gonna be okay?” Sam asked quietly as he drove, glancing at Y/N through the rearview mirror. He also looked concerned, his eyes wide and puppy-like, his teeth chewing at the inside of his cheek.

“S’long as I’m alive, he’ll always be okay,” she promised, caressing Dean’s cheek with her thumb. Sam let out a shaky breath, relaxing in his seat while his hands flexed on the steering wheel.

“Thanks, Y/N,” Sam murmured, focusing on the road. Y/N looked away from Dean and gazed at Sam with a little smile, her eyes soft. “I’m glad you’re always here and have our backs. I know it was your choice to come with us all those years ago, but.. you’ve stayed with Dean and me—even after everything. I know anyone else woulda run for the hills, but you actually love my brother in ways I’ve never seen anyone be loved. He deserves you and you deserve him, you two make each other so happy…” 

She blinked at Sam, confused by his sudden speech, she figured he must have been anxious at Dean’s current state. Still, his words had impact. It was no secret she was head over heels for Dean and it was no secret he was just as in love with her. It made her stomach clench delightfully, her face heating up as she imagined how easily everyone else can see the love they have for each other. 

She looked down at Dean, smiling wider at his peaceful face before quietly saying, “you don’t need to thank me, Sam.” 

“No, I know… I just… I’m glad you’re in our lives,” he told her bashfully, smiling at her through the rearview mirror. She looked up and smiled back at him, letting out a small laugh that made him relax immediately.

“I’m glad you’re both in my life too,” she said quietly. A peaceful silence descended within the Impala, the occasional little rock hitting the metal frame while Sam drove as smoothly as he could back to the motel they were staying at. 

Thankfully, the sun wouldn’t start rising for a few hours which meant they could catch a little sleep on their last night at the motel before heading off to the Bunker. More importantly, Dean would get some extra sleep—and Y/N was thrilled that he would be able to sleep fully until morning.

Dean whined and nuzzled into Y/N’s stomach when she tried moving him out of the Impala so he could sleep in a bed. He slapped her hand away and mumbled some nonsense into her tummy until Sam returned to check on them and roughly slapped his brother’s shoulder.

“Ow,” Dean flinched, slowly getting up to rub his shoulder with a pout while Y/N and Sam laughed at how childish he sounded. “You’re both mean…” he muttered, pecking Y/N’s lips just because he could before sleepily stumbling out of the Impala, stretching and rubbing his eyes. Y/N took the opportunity to gently smack his ass as his jacket and shirt rode up his body. 

He smirked at her, pulling her into his arms to kiss her which made Sam groan in disgust, mostly playful. She giggled into the kiss, clutching Dean’s shirt as he held her face in his warm palms.

“Alright then,” Sam cleared his throat. When Dean held Y/N in place, his tongue lazily slipping past her lips as he tilted his head for a better angle, Sam scratched the back of his neck and rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna shower,” he said quickly, and made his escape. Dean chuckled, finally pulling away from his girlfriend.

“Will you make me sleep on the couch if I don’t wanna shower?” He gave her his best puppy-dog eyes, it made her smile adoringly at him. Dean could surprisingly pull that look off quite well and she had to resist rolling her eyes—mostly at herself for melting as soon as he looked at her that way. 

“Just sleep in clean clothes and brush your teeth,” she murmured, kissing him softly. He hummed quietly, nodding his head, accepting her proposition. 

“What if I sleep naked?” He wondered with a smirk, staring down at her. He bit his lip, raising his brows as he held her close to him. She laughed and rested her head on his chest, her ear pressed over his heart, listening to the cadence of his relaxing heartbeat.

“I would love that, but unfortunately, we share a room with your brother…” She moved away from him to close the door. He groaned in annoyance, holding her pinky with his. “I know,” she said dramatically, tugging him to the motel room, fully intertwining their fingers, “if only you could sleep naked next to me at all hours, every night.” 

He chuckled softly at the thought, spinning her around to face him with his arms around her waist. She gasped dramatically as he opened the door, but before he could kiss her, she put her finger to his lips, “better yet, what if you were naked at all hours, every day too?” He stumbled in with a laugh, kicking the door closed, and pressing her against the wall.

“Is that what you picture if we have our own home?” He murmured, kissing her passionately and sloppily dragging his lips down her neck. “Me, walking around naked so I can fuck you whenever I want?” He grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up so she could wrap her legs around him. 

“Dean…” she moaned, “we can’t…” 

He rutted against her slowly, her hands twisting in his shirts, as his warm breath fanned over her neck. He was already hard, it was driving her crazy to feel him against her clothed core, wetness pooling between her legs.

“Fuck,” he grunted, pressing his forehead against her shoulder, “I know.” He let her down gently and kissed her forehead. “Sorry,” he whispered, kissing her forehead again before he pulled away and started to strip.

“Don’t apologise for that,” she chuckled, stripping off her dirty clothes and putting on a clean pair of panties as he stood there, naked.

“I was apologising to your panties, mostly, and your pussy,” he bit his lip and nodded at her playfully, “because I bet they’re soaked, just ruined, and that you were expecting my dick inside you.” He wiggled his eyebrows at her and she chuckled, stealing a shirt from his duffel bag and grabbing some new boxers for him.

“I…” she laughed, shoving his boxers against his chest, “stop distracting me.” She walked past him as she put his shirt on and laughed when he pulled her into him again. His warm hands moved up her sides, lifting the shirt she wore as he pressed himself against her, his cock squeezed between their bodies. “I’m serious,” she chuckled, looking over at the bathroom door where the water was still running as Sam showered.

He sighed and let her go, dramatically putting his boxers on and standing there with his hands on his hips. “Better?” He asked, rolling his eyes playfully when she peeked at him from over her shoulder and then smiled at him.

“Not really, but I asked you to, so, I guess.” She smiled at him and pulled him closer to her. He moved with her smoothly, holding her close and plopping down on the bed with her in his lap. “Sammy's gonna come out soon,” she warned as he kissed her again and kneaded her ass, his hands warm and rough. 

“I know,” he whined, falling back on the bed, closing his eyes, his thumbs rubbing circles on her hip bones. “Don’t get mad, I don’t wanna brush my teeth, I’m still a little tired from the spell.” Her eyes softened and she leaned over him, kissing his hairline, dropping another kiss on his forehead.

“I’m never going to get mad at you, you know that, Dean.” She kissed his nose and then his lips before climbing off him and laying down with her head in the pillow. He turned to look at her tiredly, but managed to smile at her happily.

“I know, I just like being dramatic.” Instead of claiming his spot closest to the door, he settled between her legs, nudging them apart with his knees. 

“I love you so much, Dean,” she murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck, she brought him down to rest his head on her chest. He quickly relaxed, a soft sigh warming up her chest as he nuzzled between her breasts as comfortably as he could. 

“I love you, Y/N, so much,” he mumbled shyly against her chest. His face heated up, but he hoped it made her smile. Her fingers began combing through his hair, and matched with her steady heartbeat and her warmth, they lulled him until he fell back into unconsciousness again. 

When he woke up, it was already sunny outside. He knew Sam must have gone out for a run, and after that, to pick up some coffee and tea for Y/N. He sneaked his hand under his girlfriend’s shirt with his eyes closed. Dean felt her stir when his fingers gently brushed against her nipple, a shudder rippling through her that made him smirk.

He lowered his hand and tugged at her panties, hoping to rouse her. It made her moan softly in protest. When he went to kiss her, a curtain of honey-coloured locks scared the shit out of him and he nearly screamed at the top of his lungs, but settled for a quick, “oh, shit!” 

He stumbled off of Y/N and his wiggling on the bed woke her.

“Dean?” She rubbed her eyes and blinked at the naked woman on the bed who was looking down at herself in shock. It sobered Y/N and she scrambled far away from the unfamiliar woman. “Dean?! Is this some kind of joke?” Y/N got out of bed, her eyes trailing up and down the woman’s body.

“Y/N, it’s me! It’s Dean!” In his attempts to get up, his boxers fell from his slimmer, curvier body, and Y/N froze, staring at him in the eyes. Green eyes. Dean pulled the boxers up and held them at his waist. 

“What?” She asked quietly.

“It’s me. It’s Dean. I’m Dean,” he said more calmly, making his way to her on the bed, walking on his knees. “Im kinda freaking out, babe,” he admitted quietly. Y/N’s eyes flickered down to Dean’s breasts again and then Y/N started to laugh. “What? What’s so funny? Sweetheart, we need to find out what happened! What the fuck is going on?” He didn’t care that she was laughing, he still moved in for a hug which she easily gave to him, her arms wrapping around his, her, neck.

“I’m sorry, D,” she murmured, burying her face in his neck and smelling the same scent that always came from Dean. “I think it was the witch, honestly,” she mumbled, pulling away slightly to look him in the eyes, his green eyes and cute freckles that she always loved. 

“But she’s dead…” Dean whispered, sitting down, his long hair covering her chest. “S-shouldn’t I…? Then why is the spell still working?” He wondered exasperatedly, running his hand down his face. “I need some clothes. And-and we need to get to the Bunker, read up on this shit…” he started to ramble as he got off the bed, letting his boxers fall.

“We can call Rowena,” Y/N suggested, but Dean was too busy rifling through his duffle bag. “D, slow down, I’ll let you borrow some of my clothes.” She got off the bed and stopped Dean, who was still pretty tall. He instinctively leaned down to kiss her, his fingers tangling in her soft hair. She kissed him back, to his surprise, as if he were the same, as if it didn’t matter to her that he was a woman now. At least for however long he had to be one before they turned him back.

“I wanna wear that dress that drives me crazy when you wear it,” he murmured playfully against her lips. She laughed at Dean, pulling away completely to dig through her duffle bag for a pair of her underwear and a bra. “Babe, your boobs are bigger than mine,” he pouted, experimentally holding his breasts in his hand and rolling his nipples between his fingers. He gasped softly and Y/N’s face heated up as she watched him touch himself. “Shit, am I pissing myself?” He stopped touching himself to look between his legs and then relaxed when he realised what was happening. “Oh,” he said with wonder.

“Stop that,” Y/N chuckled, placing the bra back into her bag while Dean pulled Y/N’s underwear on. She then took out the dress Dean was talking about, wondering if he was serious or not. “Are you sure?” She asked, holding it up for him to inspect it—even though he’d seen it millions of times. He rubbed his thighs together and then looked up at her, his face flushed.

“Uh, yeah,” he said, getting up and taking it from her, letting him help putting it on. She bit her lip, realising that he was turned on right now. “Man, why am I so wet?” He whined as Y/N fixed the straps of the thin and soft dress. 

“I don’t know,” she murmured, fixing the dress on Dean’s body and grabbing the white, silky strap of cloth that went around the waist to make a neat bow at his waist. “Why do you think you’re wet?” She asked, tilting her head.

“Uh,” Dean looked down at himself, bit his lip as he blushed and then looked at her. “Probably because you still turn me on and I’m wearing your panties,” he told her, licking his lips, he stepped forward, watching her stand up straight as he came closer. “I mean, I know wearing panties always feels good to me, but it’s always different when I know they’re yours,” he confessed, looking down as he sneaked his hand under her shirt and into her panties. Both their breaths started to pick up and he moaned softly, finding her as soaked as he felt. 

Just then, the doorknob started to rattle and Dean grunted in annoyance. He moved his hand out from between her legs and licked his fingers clean of her slick before kissing her forehead and heading to the bathroom. Sam froze as he watched a woman—Dean—wad to the bathroom while Y/N stood there, flushed, before facing Sam.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked, closing the door behind him to place the cup holder on the table. 

“Uh, the witch made Dean a woman,” Y/N said bluntly, putting on some jeans to look a little more decent. 

“The.. What?” Sam blinked at Y/N, then seemed to have let the information sink as he sat down, abandoning the coffee cup he was drinking from when he came in. “Are you sure?” He asked, even though he knew Y/N knew what she was doing. She nodded and took the cup that had the tea string hanging out of the cup. “I’ll call Rowena as we make our way to the Bunker, it’s just a few hours away…” Sam stretched a little and froze when Dean came out of the bathroom, using a towel to clean his face.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean grumbled, hating the way Sam looked at him in shock. Dean took the last coffee on the cup holder and started to drink from it. “I know, I’m so hot like this, too,” he smirked up at his baby brother. Sam rolled his eyes, needing nothing more to know that it was, in fact, Dean as a woman. 

Y/N chuckled and made her way to the bathroom to get ready, letting Sam and Dean talk about whatever they needed to before stepping out. She got her stuff ready, found Sam perplexed, prepared, and Dean amused and curious, before they all headed out to the car to get to the Bunker.

Dean pouted as Rowena started to scan his body using a spell, Y/N stifled a laugh, which made Dean smile. As soon as Sam got in the Impala, he started to call Rowena and told her to be there to help Dean out. She was obviously there, faster than either of them cared to mention.

Rowena had also checked Dean out as soon as she saw him, which Dean liked, despite his sassy remark to her objectifying stare. He plopped down on the bed of the infirmary and let Rowena do her thing, Y/N was sitting nearby as Sam anxiously chewed on his fingernails. 

“Honestly, as long as I’m not gonna die…” he trailed off, “but please tell me you can turn me back.” Rowena sighed and smiled at Dean, her eyes mischievous and naughty as she patted Dean’s head like a dog.

“You’re not going to die,” she reassured him and Dean slapped her hand away, sitting up on the bed. “And the spell will run its course in a few days, like a fever,” she explained. Dean listened as he played with the hem of the dress he wore. “Tell me, what’s it like for you being a woman? Have you two already explored your new body?” She asked mischievously. Sam cleared his throat, expressing his discomfort. Rowena rolled her eyes at him, but smirked at Dean’s blush as he crossed his arms over his chest defensively. “I’m asking because I can change you back now… Unless..” she trailed off, looking between Y/N and Dean with a knowing look, “unless you two wanna experiment…” She added casually, shrugging and looking at her nails.

“Okay! I’m leaving now,” Sam said, not wanting to hear it or to embarrass Y/N and Dean for their choice. Sam decided he was going to leave the Bunker for a while and l text Dean that he’d be back in a week. Sam nodded to himself, getting some new clothes and his duffle bag, he wanted to give them some privacy. Maybe he could read all those books he wanted to read and stay in a motel for a while. Or he could call Eileen, yeah, he was gonna do that, spend some time with her and go on a date, too. 

“I’m not judging, I’m actually encouraging it,” Rowena said smugly, packing her things. Rowena didn’t need an answer, she had Dean figured out. He was confident and proud about his sex life; he was an experimenter, willing to try anything. Dean rolled his eyes at Rowena and got out of bed to stand next to Y/N. 

“Whatever, we’ll walk you out,” Dean grumbled, taking Y/N’s hand to help her off the chair as Rowena gave both of them a knowing look. Her dark eyes shone with amusement and flirtatiousness, which made Dean roll his eyes again as he took her other bag and walked out with Y/N. 

“I always knew you two were an interesting pair,” she laughed, “I mean, how do you get Y/N to try all these things? She seems too tame for things like these…” Dean smirked to himself, knowing Rowena couldn’t see his face; if only she knew how many times a lot of the freaky stuff they did were Y/N’s idea. He looked down at his girlfriend, his eyes full of affection and desire. She was so cute when she was flustered. 

Rowena gasped dramatically, her heels clicking as she hurried to stand next to them. “Don’t tell me, this child is the one who comes up with everything… I knew you were the most sheltered, Dean.” Rowena laughed, looking between both of them, and needing nothing, but their silence to confirm her statement. “Well, I’m just shocked… but very proud.” She squeezed Y/N’s shoulder, a genuine expression of pride and mischief shining in her grey-blue eyes. 

Y/N shook her head at the witch, allowing Dean to open the Bunker door for Rowena to make her exit. “Well, thanks for coming out to help, Rowena,” Y/N told her. Dean handed Rowena her bag and Rowena grinned at them.

“You’re welcome,” she kissed Y/N’s cheek formally and patted Dean’s shoulder, “have a fantastic week, lovebirds.” Rowena continued to tease as she walked out, leaving Dean and Y/N alone in the Bunker, both amused as they shut the door. 

“I’m gonna go look for Sam,” Dean said, looking down at his body, “and then I’m gonna shower.” He leaned over to kiss Y/N’s cheek, then kissed her lips, smiling adorably at her. 

“Just… go look for your brother,” Y/N chuckled shyly, walking past Dean just as his phone lit up on the war table. “Nevermind!” She shouted, taking Dean’s phone when she saw Sam’s name light up the screen above a message he sent. Dean raised a brow and walked over to her, looking over her shoulder to read whatever notification he got. 

SAMMY : I’m heading out with Eileen. I’m spending the whole week with her. You two have fun… No details, please.

Dean chuckled too, taking the phone when Y/N handed it to him. He typed out his response with a childish snicker and a grin. Y/N’s smile grew watching Dean look practically the same even as a woman.

Dean : Oh, you have plenty of time to finally sleep with her.. Unlike you, I’d like to hear the details… or Eileen will spill to Y/N and I’ll know anyway. Heh.

Dean proudly sent the message, his attention purely on his phone. He saw Sam had immediately read it and the text bubble appeared, so he stepped forward, leaning his hips against the table, nearly forgetting he was a woman. He quickly recovered and laughed at Sam’s response.

SAMMY : She wouldn’t… Stop that!

               Goodbye, Dean

Dean could already hear the annoyance from Sam through the text and he grinned to himself, looking to where Y/N was. A soft smile graced her pretty lips and Dean found himself smiling back immediately, and reaching out for her hand.

“Let’s shower together,” he said with a smile, his thumb brushing against her knuckles when she took his hand. She nodded at him, looking at Dean the same way she always had. It flustered him. 

While he walked with her to the bathroom, he couldn’t help squeeze her hand nervously—now that he was a woman. It was comforting that nothing had changed for her, that it didn’t matter what he looked like. If anything could display how she felt about him, this was the true testament of her love for him.

As much as he wanted to just get the shower over with, he couldn’t. He had no idea how to stop himself from being so horny, it was like starting all over again from puberty. He couldn’t focus on anything, but the desire for Y/N to touch him. He was so wet, everytime his thighs were too close, he could feel his panties sticking to his pussy, the cool feeling of wetness surprising him. 

He didn’t even realise he was already in the bathroom, until he felt Y/N tugging at the ends of the little bow she made around his waist to keep the dress snug against his curves. He focused on her, but the way it just seemed so natural to her that he was a woman now, it was confusing. Still, it was also nice, hoping that her love for him was just that pure and unconditional.

“I love you,” he mumbled. He felt shy saying that, but she looked up at him with her eyebrows raised slightly, pleasant surprise written all over her face, one side of her lips turning up just a little. She leaned forward and pecked his lips, repeating the same sentiment that made him feel warm, a flush that was different from the lust he’d been feeling all day. 

Dean started to take his dress off slowly, but Y/N stripped faster than he did, focused on the task of showering. She turned the shower on and waited patiently for Dean to get used to his lady parts and the difference in size of all his body. His arms were thinner and so were his legs, he was soft, but toned, and just slightly firm on his ass, he was squishy in all the places he liked Y/N to be. When he’d embarrassedly lowered his panties, Y/N watched, amused by the patch of wetness that drenched the crotch of the cotton. 

“Jesus, Dean,” she chuckled, stepping forward and curiously tugging Dean’s panties to get a clearer look at all the wetness. Dean blushed, now understanding why Y/N became so coy when he did or said things like that. He secretly liked it though, the way she pressed her fingers into the damp cotton and hummed as if it were nice against her fingertips. “You're so dirty,” she whispered, laughing softly. 

“I’m not used to this,” was all he managed to say. Y/N released his panties, letting them pool around his ankles. Dean swallowed, waiting in anticipation for Y/N to do something, anything really, just as long as he could get off. She’d mimicked what Dean did earlier to himself, her hands experimentally cupping Dean’s breast. Dean bit his lip, feeling his nipples tighten and tingle with the prospect of being touched.

Y/N was slow and curious in the way she handled him. Her thumbs gently circled around the nipple, observing them start to pucker up. The soft pads of her thumbs brushed against the little buds of his nipples and he found himself arching his chest the same way she did when he did that to her. 

It had the same effect on her as it had on him, and one of her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him close so her warm mouth was latched onto his nipple. He moaned, feeling her fingers on his other breast, pinching and rolling his nipples, while she tongued the other expertly.

He felt his knees weaken and he steadied himself on the wall, a wave of wetness dampening his legs more. She released his waist, sucking his nipple into her mouth, her teeth pleasantly scraping the sensitive skin of his nipples. Her hand slid down his side, smoothly tracing the curve of his waist, down to his hips.

Her thumb brushed against his hipbone and it felt so damn good, Dean moaned again, squirming and hoping Y/N would show him mercy and put her fingers where she knew he wanted her to. Instead, she playfully tugged at his nipple and let it go with a pop, her warm breath billowing over the wetness and making shivers erupt on his skin. 

Dean felt his eyes roll back, felt so horny when she wrapped her arm around his waist again and repeated every little stroke of her tongue on his other nipple. This time, her free hand moved between his legs. Dean found himself spreading his legs when her palms sailed smoothly up the inside of his thigh, curving up to cup his pussy, her palm grinding against his swollen clit and her fingers pressing into his drenched entrance. 

He gasped, his fingers tangling in her hair, trying to pull her up so she would kiss him instead. She pulled away from his chest and let Dean kiss her, a surprised sound muffling against Dean’s lips. She didn’t stop palming his swollen clit, and Dean began to undulate his hips against her hand and she smirked. Even now, she loved making him desperate. 

“I need to cum,” he gasped against her mouth. Y/N nodded, circled Dean’s weeping entrance with two fingers and moved them up to his clit. She kissed Dean’s neck, licked his sweet skin and marked him as hers where she thought would look pretty against his skin. Dean’s heavy breaths and breathy moans caused a pool of arousal between her legs again. 

Y/N licked her lips, staring at Dean, and truly took him in. She took in the gorgeous curves of his body, his tiny waist and wide hips, the perfect roundness of his perky breasts, his nipples hard and shimmering with her saliva. He looked beautiful, ravenous, in the same way he’d make her feel when he had the body of a man. 

His hair was long and straight, a lighter brown colour. He was breathtaking, with strands curtaining above his chest and falling in front of his face, long tendrils of honey that nearly covered his green eyes. He looked at her breathlessly, wondering why she was so slowly, agonisingly massaging his clit. 

He hadn’t expected to see the same tenderness in her eyes that she’d usually gaze at him with, her eyes sparkling with wonder and love. Dean whined anyway, grasping her wrist to speed up and control the movements just when she began to trace the same freckles she’d seen on Dean’s other body with her eyes. 

She didn’t say anything, just snatched Dean’s wrist with her clean hand to keep him away as she easily slipped two fingers inside him. Dean gasped, not expecting the speed at which Y/N fingered him. Her fingertips easily found his g-spot, curled so deliciously against the sensitive ridges of his wall. His mouth fell open and he moaned her name loudly, feeling a coil begin to tighten in his tummy. 

He tugged at his nipples with both hands, squeezing his breasts and fucked himself against her quick fingers. Y/N stared up at him, captivated by every one of his hedonistic manoeuvres. Desire flourished between her legs and in her stomach at the sound of Dean’s wet cunt around her fingers. 

Y/N got down on her knees, her mouth sending warm breaths over his pelvis. Dean’s eyes snapped open to gaze down at Y/N with an intense hunger, wiggling his hips and abandoning one of his breasts to spread his folds with two fingers, encouraging her to put her mouth on his clit. 

She didn’t hesitate to flick his clit teasingly and he jolted, his head bumping against the wall. He moaned again, the feeling of her tongue’s perfect strokes drew him closer to his orgasm. The smoothness of movement aided by her saliva and Dean just didn’t care about holding back when he came, completely relaxing his muscles and letting it tear through him intensely.

Dean caught his breath against the wall, her fingers slowing down and stopping before her tongue did. Y/N sat back on her legs and licked her fingers clean while Dean watched her. Leaning forward for more, she lifted Dean’s thigh and pushed his legs open to lap up his clear cum and he moaned appreciatively.

“Come on, there’s still a lot more I have to show you.” She grinned at him mischievously, allowing Dean to relax and catch his breath. She stepped into the shower and stared at him for a moment.

“God,” he whispered and rolled his eyes, “it sucks that this is just temporary.” He entered the shower with her. 

“That’s enough time,” she reassured him with a grin. Dean gasped when Y/N manhandled him under the showerhead and used her fingers to clean him up, purposely brushing against his sensitive clit.

“I am so in love with you,” Dean breathed, pressing a loving kiss to her cheek. 

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[pink-sparkly-witch]

All She Wants, Part One

Summary: As an Omega, Y/N’s biology dictates that she needs to be claimed and have pups. Despite seeing her through her heats for years, Dean – the Alpha Y/N wants to settle down with – refuses to give her what she needs.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Female Omega!Reader

Rating: 18+ Only

Bingo Square: The quote: “Don’t try to alpha me. It won’t work.” for @j3bingo which is highlighted in bold.

Warnings: omegaverse, A/B/O, A/B/O dynamics, language, ruts, heats, smut (well… technically, it’s smangst and could be perceived as tw: dub-con), p in v, dirty talk, breeding kink, claiming kink, knotting, angst, Dean is a bit of an asshole, fighting, canon level violence, arguments.

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Well, we get straight into the filth under the cut with this one! I hope you’re ready for some angst alpha Dean! Buckle up, buttercups, and enjoy the ride! Please consider reblogging to spread this far and wide around this Hellsite, or leave a little comment. It really does fuel our muse. If you’re too shy, or too cool for people to know you read fanfic and you don’t want it showing on your blog, you can submit an anonymous ask or drop me a DM 💖

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“Fuck, Omega, you’re dripping all over my cock,” Dean growls as he slams into you again. This is the eighth fucking he’s given you in the past three days, and it’s sure to be over a dozen by the time his rut is over.

You and Dean have been doing this for years. Whenever he’s in a rut, you get him through it, and whenever you’re in heat, he’s repaid the favour. At first, it was easy; a means to an end. You knew each other, you trusted each other, there was an attraction between you, and it was less risky than disappearing off the face of the earth for five days with a stranger, especially when any alpha could claim you with or without your consent.

As time passed, you’d done what you promised never to do; you caught feelings. Once that happened, becoming emotionally bonded to Dean was no longer a choice, and in all ways but wearing his mark, you and the green-eyed hunter had mated.

“Such a sweet fucking pussy, baby girl. Can’t get enough of it,” Dean’s voice had deepened with his arousal, and you knew the alpha in him was slowly taking over.

You groan at his words. He’s always good with dirty talk and can turn you into a weak, whimpering mess with a single word.

“Mine.”

But it’s all talk. Dean has told you plenty of times that you could never be anything more. And the more years that passed, the harder that’s been to accept. Every month when your heat ended, you swore it was the last time. Your biology dictated your life, and if an alpha didn’t claim you and give you pups, you’d go feral and die.

Dean’s knot is beginning to swell; you can’t feel him as deep as he had been. He drapes himself over your sweat-slicked back to give himself better purchase to push and shove into you, desperate to get as deep as he’d been a few minutes ago. It’s a futile effort as he won’t get what he wants until his knot has slipped inside you, but being surrounded by him – his weight on top of you, breathing in his scent – is a euphoria you could never get enough of. It’s the reason you’ve always ended up under him.

“Alpha, please,” you beg pathetically. “Need your knot.”

“Yeah? You gonna be a good girl and take my knot, ‘mega?” Dean grunts in your ear, his knot beginning to catch at your entrance.

“Yes, Alpha!” You gasp as Dean’s hand wraps around your throat, pushing your head to the side and exposing your neck.

“Of course, you are, ‘mega. Always such a good girl for your Alpha,” Dean grunts, thrusting harder and harder, trying to force his knot inside your walls, but he can’t quite slip it into your tight, slightly tense channel. 

“Gonna fill you up so good, baby girl. Knot you and fill you. You want that, huh? Want my come? My pups? Want me to ruin this pretty little neck with my mark?” he grunts, teasing your delicate skin with his teeth.

You moan, feeling another bout of slick leaking from you at his words. It’s all you want, and you choke back the tears at the regret you feel about ever starting this vicious cycle; at the cruelness of him using what you so desperately want to loosen you up enough to take what he wants.

And you hate yourself because it works.

“Yeah, I know you do, Omega. You just gotta let me in. Let me in, and I’ll fill you so good, baby. There’s no way you won’t come out of this pregnant.” You try to remind yourself that it’s only words, and you’re on birth control anyway, so it’ll never happen, but you can’t help but wish there was truth in them. 

Dean lowers his head, and you shiver when his tongue licks over your mating gland and his teeth nip at your skin.

“Alpha!” You scream, finally reaching orgasm as his knot breeches you and locks your bodies together for the foreseeable future.

“That’s m’girl,” Dean growls as he grinds into you, the tip of his member kissing your cervix. He jerks his hips, shoving impossibly further inside you, and you whine at the pleasurable pain.

“No fucking pussy better than yours, ‘mega, and it’s all fucking mine,” Dean roars and you feel the heat of the first ropes of come hitting your quivering walls, sending you into a second orgasm.

Your elbows can no longer hold your weight, and you collapse onto the bed. You hate how Dean knows what buttons to push to get you to give him what he needs. You hate your body for falling for his words. And right now, as you experience a third orgasm that has you fighting between euphoria and disgust, you’re glad Dean hasn’t claimed you, and a chemical bond is non-existent, so he can’t feel the torment you’re currently going through.

You sigh as the waves of your climax roll away, and your body melts into the mattress. Behind you, Dean moans low and long as your relaxed body allows his knot to slip in deeper, and he empties everything he has into your womb.

Dean has never come so hard with you before, and you wonder if the claiming and breeding talk did it, or if it was because he’s never been so deep inside you before. Or if he, like you, is finding it harder to fight his instincts.

He carefully rolls you both onto your sides and wraps himself around you protectively, placing soft kisses across your back and shoulder. It’s the first sign that his rut is ending, and it doesn’t surprise you that it’s a day early, given how much of his come you can feel swirling in your belly.

The afterglow you’d been basking in is quickly overshadowed with dread because you know this is the last time this would happen. You can’t keep doing this to yourself. Dean will never want more with you than what you have right now. He’ll never reciprocate your feelings for him, and you refuse to put yourself through it any longer.

“You okay, Y/N? Was I too rough?” Dean asks, pressing his lips to your spine, and you know for sure he’s out of his rut because he called you by name and not “Omega” or “Baby Girl”. And if using your name hadn’t given it away, then his concern for you would have.

“No,” you say quietly. You try to shift away from him, yelping from still being locked together tightly and stretched to almost unbearable pain. You want to cry, knowing you’ll likely remain that way for over an hour. At one time, that would’ve made you the happiest little omega on the planet, being tucked safely in your alpha’s arms, him locked in you so tightly, but right now, you just want to get away from him.

“Easy, sweetheart,” Dean soothes, running his hand up and down your side. “We’re gonna be here a while. It hasn’t been like that since my first rut, and I’m jammed in there pretty tight,” Dean chuckles. “Fuck, that felt good!”

You remain still and silent, not wanting to cause yourself any further pain, and grateful that if the tears you’re holding fall, you can blame it on the discomfort you feel.

“Uh, you know all that talk about claiming and pups was just that, right? Dirty talk?” Dean speaks, breaking the silence that had formed between you. “Because this life ain’t the place for weaknesses like mating bonds and pups.”

“I know.” It comes out in a whisper, but at least you didn’t burst into tears at the final nail in the coffin of your relationship with Dean.

“Good,” he states, pulling you further into his body and settling down to sleep.

Now all you need to do is wait until Dean’s knot deflates and he’s sleeping deeply. Then you can shower the stench of the alpha from your body and return to your room. Your space. Your haven. Your nest.

ONE MONTH LATER

The trouble with witches is that they’re more intelligent than most people give them credit for. And vindictive. They’re also the most vile monsters on the planet. Still, you can’t help but admire them. Not that you’d ever admit that out loud, but you can’t deny the genius of the one you’re hunting right now that’s had the three of you running around in five different states trying to catch her.

When your luck finally turns, and you find her hideout undetected—a hundred miles from the bunker, no less—the three of you get takeout and beer in the motel room, and form a plan to take the bitch down.

As the sun comes through the threadbare drapes, rousing you from the first restful night’s sleep you’ve had in weeks, you still feel tired and too hot. Trying to kick the duvet off your overheated body, you feel a solid block behind you and sigh. Sam and Dean had insisted you all share a room, knowing you’re all on the witch’s hit list and are safer in numbers until she’s dead, so you know it can only be Dean behind you.

Becoming more awake, you notice Dean nuzzling into your neck, his lips resting on your mating gland, and his calming, intoxicating scent surrounding you. This is the closest you’ve been to him since his rut a few weeks ago, making your stomach lurch.

Quietly slipping from the bed, you smile wistfully as the green-eyed alpha whines at your sudden absence. Dean has been looking at you strangely these past two weeks. You know that he knows you’re pulling away from him, but as always with the two of you, it’s gone unspoken. Dean never talks about his feelings, and the last time you did, well, let’s just say that’s when you knew you and Dean were a sinking ship.

Grabbing underwear, jeans, a vest top, and flannel from your duffel bag, you make your way into the bathroom, wanting for once to have a long, hot shower without it turning cold when soap suds are still in your hair because the boys have used it all up.

Fully dressed and towelling your hair, the first signs of this month’s heat make themselves known as your skin prickles and the twinges start in your lower belly. This will be the first heat you’ve endured without Dean in a long time, and you pray to Chuck or whoever the fuck is running things upstairs now, that you’re strong enough to handle it.

Taking two Tylenol for the impending cramps, and a suppressant to try to ease the other symptoms of heat, you brush the tangles from your wet hair and head over to the diner to get breakfast for yourself and the two alphas, the younger whose bed is now empty having gone out for his morning run, and the older who is still snoring, his nose buried into the pillow you’d slept on.

DEAN’S POV

Dean is pacing the motel room. Y/N’s scent is still strong in the air and tinged with the beginnings of her heat, a scent that always drives him fucking wild. Her damp towel hangs on the heated rail in the bathroom, so he knows she hasn’t been gone long, but he’s worried about her. Especially lately. And especially with a conniving witch bitch hellbent on vaporising them.

Y/N has been pulling away from him lately, and her sharp tongue has left him licking his wounds more than once. He’d been wracking his brain, going over their every interaction, trying to figure out what he’d done to piss her off. What hurt him the most was her obvious despair at having to share a bed with him last night.

He and Sam agreed the three of them would stay in one room until they’d killed the bitch. They were all on the witch’s radar, but if they stayed together, at least they had safety in numbers. When he gave the news to Y/N, she looked at him as if he’d kicked a puppy right in front of her, and that felt like a knife to his gut.

He’d even thought about saying she could sleep with Sam, but the very thought of that made him want to tear his younger brother’s throat out, so he had no choice but to grin and bear her cold shoulder and the cold bed.

Not able to make and take comfort in a nest for herself, Y/N had situated herself on the bed as far away from him as possible and contorted into the tiniest little ball she physically could, making it abundantly clear to him and Sam that she felt extremely vulnerable. Dean knew that hurt not only him but Sam too.

The sound of footsteps outside the room makes Dean grab the gun filled with witch-killing bullets from the dresser and point it at the door. He relaxes his stance and lowers the weapon when he recognises Sam’s shadow through the grimy motel room window.

“Have you seen Y/N?” Dean barks at his younger brother the second he walks through the door.

“Yeah, she’s sitting in the diner eating breakfast. I ran past her a couple of minutes ago,” Sam replied, stretching his calves and putting his earphones away.

“You talk to her?”

“No. I thought it best to give her some space. With the way things have been, and, you know, she’s on the verge of a heat and, uh, she hasn’t really been herself lately, and last night with the…” Sam sighed. “What happened between you two, Dean? Because that is not the happy Omega we know.”

“I wish I knew, Sammy. I really do, but I’m at a loss here.” Dean starts to pace again, in obvious distress and breathing deeply through flared nostrils.

“When was the last time things were okay between you?” Sam asked.

“My rut last month. But even then, the last time we, uh… you know… she was off.”

“Dean,” Sam’s jaw clenched, hoping he didn’t have to kick his brother’s ass for forcing himself on her.

“I knew she was distracted. Her head wasn’t in it, and I needed her so bad—” The dawning of realisation washed over the green-eyed alpha’s features, and he felt sick.

“What did you do, Dean?”

“I, uh, I fucked up. I had to get creative with some dirty talk to slick her up enough to get my knot in, and I… fuck!” Dean sits on the bed, places his head in his hands and pulls at his hair.

“Dean,” the younger alpha’s nostrils were also flaring now, but it was from anger as opposed to his brother’s distress.

“I played on what she wants. What she really wants, Sam. I’ve always been clear with her about what we have and never used any of what she… but that night, I told her I’d claim her and give her pups.” And just like that, everything makes perfect sense to Dean. Y/N is pushing him away because she desperately wants what he teased her with. “And then, as we lay there locked together, I told her it was just talk, and I could never give it to her.”

“Jesus, Dean! You’re telling me you used her by telling her you’d give her what she wanted, then you broke her heart by taking it all back, saying she could never have it so that you could knot her? That’s low, even for you!” Sam scoffs.

“I never said she couldn’t have it. I said I couldn’t give it to her. She’s leaving me, Sammy. It’s why she’s been pushing me away. Why she feels vulnerable around me now and wants her own space all the time.”

“Yeah, and you fucking deserve it!” Sam growls as he swings for Dean, clocking him in the jaw with an almighty crack. “She loves you, Dean! And you treat her like an omega whore you’ve paid to see you through a rut?” As the younger Winchester pulls his fist back and lands another punch, the door slams, making both men jump at the sudden movement.

“Enough!” Y/N’s voice verberates through the room. “What has gotten into you two?” The pack dynamic they’d forged for themselves had Y/N as the matriarch, and so her maternal tone had them shuffle their feet and look to the floor. “We have bigger problems to deal with right now, and you two fighting like a couple of juveniles will only give the witch the ammunition she needs to take us all down!”

“Sorry, Y/N,” both alphas mumble like a couple of scolded pups.

“I brought breakfast. Eat.” It’s an order that neither alpha dared disobey. They shuffle their way over to the small table, sitting down and eating silently while Y/N checks and rechecks their duffles for the witch hunt.

Y/N’S POV

Edging silently along the wall, gun in your hand, locked and loaded, you can hear a woman’s voice and Sam grunting, and realise you only have seconds to get this right. Taking a deep breath, you step into the room, and your eyes scan the surroundings.

Sam is against the wall, struggling against invisible restraints, and the witch speaks in Latin. Knowing that can only mean trouble, you raise the gun and take a second to get your aim right between the bitch’s eyes.

It’s a second too long, and she whips her hand to the right, your gun flying from your grip and landing across the room, as she continues her Latin chant as if you weren’t just trying to kill her.

You run at the first purple spark emitted from the witch’s palms, putting yourself between Sam and the witch without hesitation. You’d missed the first part of her curse, but you’d heard enough to know that the youngest Winchester could absolutely not be hit with it. You needed to get in front of it. You couldn’t let her ruin all three of your lives.

Closing your eyes, you wait for the curse to hit, but instead, a gunshot rings through the room, and everything goes silent. You don’t get hit by a gust of wind or an electric shock… just nothing.

Peeking an eye open, you see the witch lying on the ground, blood pouring beneath her and Dean glaring at you expectantly, his nostrils flared in anger. Not wanting to deal with him right now, you rush over to Sam, scanning over him and checking he’s okay.

“Sam! Are you hurt?” you ask as you crouch beside him and scan his body for visible injuries.

“No, just winded. I’ll be fine. Are you alright?” Sam touches your forearm to stop you from fussing about him.

“She’s a hell of a lot better than she coulda been!” Dean yells across the room. “What the fuck were you thinking, Y/N, huh? Throwing yourself in front of a witch like that, you coulda been killed!”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Dean. I’m—” Dean cuts off your response, marching towards you with his index finger pointing at you.

“I swear, if you say ‘I’m fine,’ so help me!” Dean only stops when he’s toe-to-toe with you, and he puffs his chest and rears his shoulders back, trying to intimidate you. Trying to make you submit to him.

“I am fine, Dean. The curse mentioned a brother, so it wouldn’t have affected me anyway,” you argue back.

“It could’ve killed you for all we know!”

“Dean, you need to calm down,” you implore.

“And you, Omega,” Dean says, his voice low and full of alpha authority and his finger dangerously close to your face, “need to start following my orders and stop purposely disobeying me because of some stupid tantrum you’re throwing! Go wait in the car.”

You do the worst possible thing you could do right now and laugh, before turning and walking away from him. You won’t let anyone speak to you like that, and you definitely won’t let Dean, either.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?… Don’t you dare walk away from me, Omega!” You can smell his pheromones from where you are and know that not only is it in pure anger, but because he’s extra on edge having being able to smell your heat and is starting to get antsy.

“Don’t try to alpha me. It won’t work. You haven’t claimed me, Dean. I am not your omega. You made it very clear that I’m only good enough to be your rut bunny, and you know what? I’m done with that, so stay the hell away from me!”

“Y/N!”

Once again, you completely ignore him and keep walking. It’s hard because your body screams for him, but you won’t let him use you. Not anymore. Never again.

“Omega!” he roars again, and you walk out the door, slamming it behind you.

Screw waiting in the Impala. You’ll make your own way back, grab your bag, and go to another motel for the night. It was going to be a long enough car ride back to the bunker tomorrow, you needed some space—for everyone’s sake.

Next Part>>

Tag List: @k-slla @snackles87 @deans-baby-momma @hoboal87 @deanwanddamons @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @stixnstripesworld @twinkleinadiamondsky @kmc1989 @tristanrosspada-ackles @spnwoman @sandlee44 @negans-lucille-tblr @synmorite @roseblue373 @chriszgirl92 @impala67rollingthroughtown @perpetualabsurdity @giggles1026 @lacilou @stoneyggirl2 @leigh70 @foxyjwls007 @michecolegate @maliburenee @nancymcl @waters-2567 @kazsrm67 @jc-winchester @hobby27 @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @deans-spinster-witch @candy-coated-misery0731 @deansbbyx @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @mrsjenniferwinchester @ladysparkles78 @ashbatz @jamerlynn @nelachu2423 @spnbaby-67 @acitygrownwillow @duncanhillscoffeecups @xxmizzhecatexx @freewastelandstrawberry

[starnana7]

every time I remember that the hit show supernatural made God, the literal God from the Bible, canonically bisexual but couldn’t do the same with a random guy who hunts monsters it actually makes me feel physically ill.. like blasphemy is okay but we draw the line at making the main character a little bit queer because it would “upset the heterosexuals men”? okay ig… and it’s so funny to me that they tried SO bad to make dean like really really straight and macho and a manly womanizer (I mean dude has literal porn brain and is obsessed with cars and is a film nerd) And still is the number 1 bissexual boy.. I mean no one that into cowboys is 100% straight 🙄 and if they actually wanted him to be that much of a cishet guy WHY would they make him have a codependent homosexual friendship with his best friend for more than a decade ?? and we have so much subtext to corroborates it that it’s actually insane.

and it’s also rlly funny to me that sam would be the most obvious choice for a queer storyline. like i’m not sure this is true but i heard somewhere that he actually was supposed to like be lgbt and that it’s implied in the show he’s pan bc he basically have sex w/ everyone and doesn’t care (like monsters and stuff). i wholeheartedly disagree bc sure he hited a demon and a werewolf and a kitsune and God knows what more But it still were just women and for me he’s still just straight 💀 we do have gabriel however and i would say that’s a valid argument but i don’t actually like them together because of the whole torturing-sam-every-tuesday-over-and-over-again but it’s still a good take ig. again this is just my opinion But anyways doesn’t matter my point Is that sam always felt like a freak and wanted to be normal and like was more open minded and “less-macho-toxic-behavior” than dean. he was a theater kid and talked about his feelings and all. STILL THO dean went and become The bissexual icon (Not Sam, Dean!!). and the fact that he was more manly actually only emphasized to his sexuality (and him being closeted) and sam being the straight one, and bare with me here. as sam winchester once wisely said “well you are kind of butch they probably think you're compinsating.” (to dean asking why people always assumed they were gay) and like this is so true, sam always felt comfortable in himself and like his nerdier and less cool strong man personality. But dean, oh, dean, no, no, no. and it could all be linked to john. we know how much dean wanted to gain his father approval and respect, all he ever wanted was for john to be proud of him. so he’d listen to the same music as john, same clothes… and so on. but when we really see a glance of him, we realize he’s actually much more “““girly””” (sorry for the term i lacked a better one) than he shows, Especially when compared to sam—who’s supposed to be the more girly one (again sorry for the term lol) or whatever. dean canonically likes taylor swift, chick flick films, actually liked when a woman made him wear underwear, the bailarinas shoe were “speaking to him” in that one ep of cursed objects, and so on. and every time he makes fun of sam for doing something not-manly-enough (like drinking lemon water or drinking from tiny coups) he eventually goes and do the same thing 😭 and i’m 100% sure that the writers just thought “haha funny scene this really straight deadly man does something not so convencional/more feminine(?) haha comedy relief time!!” but it actually just made him have a whole perfect queer background developed in the series. specially with the fact that He Does Overcompensate. why is he always flirting with women, why is he so butch and scary, always talking about straight sex and so on? because he’s really just deep in the closet. and it makes so much sense with john being his father, with him having to hunt two lesbians nuns in his 17 bday, always having to be strong and macho and cool and perfect—and therefore straight. even without cas, dean really does immaculate the bissexual experience and i’m so sorry but this is just true.

and now pointing to the subtext that i mentioned in the first paragraph (lol i can’t believe i’m making a whole rant as to why dean winchester is a confirmed bisexual), that whole confession to that priest where he says he wants experience new feelings, new people, FOR THE FIRST TIME. that always that the show mentioned a gay couple it ALWAYS focused on dean—not sam, DEAN. the gay hunters, the gay couple on the bar that the cupid “made”, the two cosplayers partners… the fact that every time that dean liked something it was borderline fangirl (gay) obsessive (the dr. sexy episode, that wrestler fighter). he Had a gay thing—and was all flustered about it. he flirted with a guy throughout charlie. THE MALE SIREN. the male siren like after that ep i was 100% convinced that man was not straight. he had a hot demon sumer with crowley?!!! and it’s so funny to me that not one of these things involves castiel, so if they really wanted to make dean be that straight why would they do that?? and only to dean, not even once to sam. Like. and not to mention all the homoeretic tension with benny??? sam never had a male best friend like that.. all of that and i didn’t even entered on destiel. Because this then really just confirms that he is Not straight. even if he wasn’t In Love with cas, they had something going on and the fact that if cas was a girl it would 100% be canon and filmed and Everyone would ship—and I really mean everyone—it just makes me go fucking insane. they could’ve had it all. the fanfic episodes, the parallels between dean and cas and “real couples”, ruby and cas duality and the fact that sam indeed had a relationship w/ her. Anyway i’m a # bi dean truth believer and i know this bc same boy # happy pride month to my fav bissexual boy in the whole world

also to anyone that says that “destiel” was unrequited love yes it kinda of was but only bc dean was so deep in the closet, he did love cas. he was indeed a bissexual man. i’ll die on that hill.

[lailawinchesterr]

nightmare [dean winchester]

pairing; dean w x fem! reader summary; you go on a hunt with the brothers but when it goes to shit, dean can’t help being overprotective. tags; angst, stitching yourself, alcoholic dean, some you and sam in there cause he's the cutest baby, your dad died.

“fuck! sam, quick, get the girls.” dean runs into the impala forcing the engine to roar to life and flashes his lights at the highest setting for the vampires, burning their eyes as the other four get into it and he drives off.

it's quite for the first five minutes, except for the heavy breathing. the two girls that the trio rescued are sleeping peacefully, though you think it's anything but peaceful. their faces aren't relaxed, instead covered in blood and frowning, but their breaths have slowed, at least.

five minutes. that's all it takes before the tension is broken with a, “let me drive, dean.” the older winchester lets out an exaggerated airy laugh for all of two seconds before putting on a straight face and telling him no. “you're hurt, you can hardly keep your eyes open, let me drive, either of us.”

sam is right, dean is hurt way more than both of you combined, he fought off most of the vampires on his own while you took the girls and ran, but he was mostly hurt because he hadn't expected it.

your plan was to get the girls and dip then come back in the morning to wipe them out in their sleep, but you had woken one of them up with the loudest noise you've ever made when one of the girls stabbed you in the stomach with some glass she’d found on the floor. 

again, taken by surprise. obviously the girls thought you were one of the vampires. 

“shut up. it's only a ten minute drive to the nearest hospital.”

“we're going to a hospital?” you don't usually hunt with sam and dean, opting to stay in the motels and do some research, maybe figure out a better plan, but you've never seen them go to the hospital for their injuries, they'd always come home to you bleeding out on the floor.

“for you and the girls, yes.”

“what about you and sam?”

“it's fine.” that shut you up, his strict tone, and stare in the rear view mirror made you slide down in your seat.

ten minutes later you’ve reached 'northwest tawara horspital' and sam is helping the girls out of the impala. dean, while a wanted fugitive, does the same with you. 

but you refuse. “i won't go inside if you two aren't.”

“what?” he moves a little too quickly and holds his side as he winces. god, that can't be comfortable. 

“i won't go inside, we're just wasting time,” sam comes back and stands in the drivers side to talk to you, door open. “see? sam's back, let's get home quickly so we can fix you both up, and me.”

“no, you're going in.” sam was the one to insist this time but you just shake your head and stay planted into your seat. through the corner of your eye you can see both men discussing what to do then they get back in the car with a sigh.

on the drive home it’s mostly silent until you feel your eyes flutter closed. just a few seconds of sleep— but dean’s loud shout of your name wakes you up, “don't close your eyes, we need to fix you up first.” you nod and straighten up, “and what you did back there? fuckin’ reckless, don't pull that shit again. when we tell you to do something, you do it. or you don't come on hunts with us.”

“what the hell? i was the one who decided i didn't want to come with hunts on you guys, you can't take away my choice.”

“like hell i can't!” he isn't looking at you through the mirror, instead focusing on the road because you're on a busy one, but you can still feel his eyes burning into yours. it makes you shrink down in your seat. you hate how much his words affect you, and how visible it is too. 

sam has has never yelled at you really, but even if he had it wouldn't have done much damage, he's too soft for that. dean though... he scares you sometimes, not that he'd hurt you or kick you out, just that he'd be disappointed in you, maybe give you the silent treatment. you don't want that, but you also hate being barked orders at.

“you can't, dean.” sam says to his brother, slapping his shoulder once to ground him back, and it seems to have worked. because you’re not a bad hunter— if anything, you have their back most of the time, you aren’t clumsy or unreliable and what happened had been a mistake that any other hunter would have made. this isn’t about hunting. this is about dean being too controlling.

you thought it was over now that you're at the motel but when he parks baby, he looks back at you, “i can, and i fucking will. you can't act like a child and expect us to let you come on the hunts. you listen to whatever the fuck we tell you to do.” your lips part in surprise, thinking of how to respond, but he doesn't even give you the chance and gets out, slamming the door behind him. 

you don't look at sam as you close baby's door and start walking to the motel. sam catches up and tells you to wait and because you don't have it in you to be yelled at anymore, you turn back and face him.

he says your name, low and soft, “that wasn't an order,” 

shut up before i cry “hey,” he hugs you, your head on his chest and you just let it all out. god, you feel so stupid. you can't believe you were so unprepared and you caused them all this damage. if you had just been in defense mode you would've never screamed, you've been through worst and kept quite. and though you know it’s a little irrational, you can’t help but blame yourself for not being quiet.

“hey, he's just worried about you, he means well, you know that.” you let go slightly and he kisses your forehead, telling you to go into their room and that he'll be in yours to get cleaned up. 

+

walking into the room of the man who just basically called you a two year old is nerve-wrecking. you don't want to be screamed at and god knows you don't want to be treated like a child again. every time you think you’re getting through to dean, or that you’re becoming closer, something happens and he reminds you you’re still young, naive, and only with them because your dad had told them to.

your father is— was a hunter, he used to hunt with john sometimes, and when he heard about the apocalypse that's soon to be here and all the angels that seem to stride onto earth, he wanted to tie up loose ends, so he asked the winchesters to keep you with them until further notice.

then he never came back. but all of this is something you’ve dealt with ages ago. years even. but this? dean pushing you away all the time? acting like you’re some burden? that, you can’t get over.

“hey,” you hear his voice and turn around, not even having seen him walking towards the bathroom. “how you holding up?”

it’s a stupid attempt to make amends, but it works. the second he says anything, it works. it always does.

“fine.” you mumble and notice he’s finishing supplies to stitch himself up. ouch. you know the boys prefer to do it themselves than help the other out but you’ve always found they need a gentler hand. 

you walk towards him and hold his hand in place to stop his movements, taking the needle from him. he doesn't complain, just drowns the bottle of whiskey. with one hand, the other holding his shirt up. 

when it’s done you hold my hand out for the bottle and he scoffs, as if wasting his alcohol hurts him more than the wound that just got stitched up. he hands it over reluctantly.

you pull down his shirt and decide it’s better if you take a swig too. “does it hurt?” the questions rolls off easily, no matter how angry you are at him. 

“i'll survive.” he shrugs like it's nothing. like the gash over most of his stomach is nothing.

“not what i asked.” dean half-heartedly glares at you but your expectant expression makes him think there isn’t a way out. and there isn’t.

“it's fine, my arm’s just sore.” you sit next to him on the bed, pushing his sleeve up and he hisses, muttering something under his breath and snatching the bottle from your hand to drown it. 

“dean...” it’s surreal. it knocks all the air out of your lungs. you’ve never seen the mark, the one an angel of the lord imprinted on dean’s shoulder, though sam talked about it a couple of times. you clear your throat before he notices the staring and point to the wound, “i think you need to stitch that one too, hand me another needle.”

he does and you get to work. it’s mostly noiseless but it feels like there's something heavy in the air, a confession. though it’s impossible to tell who’s supposed to make it.

“i'm sorry.” you try to hide the surprise on your face by looking down but he doesn't let you, hooking his fingers under your chin and he makes you look up at him. “i was so worried about you.” he lets go, taking a breath in, “the way i felt when you screamed? damn it, i've never felt so scared before and i've been to hell,” he lets out a dry laugh and you smile a little. god he's so perfect.

“i don't wanna hurt you, sweetheart, never, so when i ask you to listen to me it isn't because i'm treating you like a child, i just wanna keep you safe.” there are more words on the tip of his tongue but he shuts up and it doesn’t nothing to help the growing smile on your face. it's more than you thought you’d ever get out of him.

you pour a more of the alcohol on his stitches and pull the sleeve down. “okay, you officially need a shower now, you're all booze and cologne. i need to clean this place up.”

“it's fine, sammy and i will do it.”

“not happening. go get cleaned up, i'll finish here.” you knew that what you’re doing is painfully obvious, but you hope he lets it go, just this once. 

of course he doesn't, instead pulling your shirt up to reveal the various cuts that don’t need stitches, just some treatment, and the stab wound you fixed in the car when they were both too busy sulking in the tension. you’ve gotten a lot better at handling pain since you’ve started with the winchesters.

“when did you do that?”

“doesn't matter, it's done. get in the shower dean, let me clean up and go to sleep.”

“damn it, just answer me when i ask something. when did you do this?”

“car.” you’re scared, tired and you don't want to fight. but he just apologized, for god’s sake, can’t he give it a rest.

you wait for his harsh blow. words that will knock you off my feet, anything really, but he just sighs, letting the shirt go and stands up. you do the same and he embraces you in a hug that you’re quick to reciprocate. so quick you’d already had your arms around his neck before he got his around your waist.

the whiskey burns your nose but it's nothing compared to how your body burns with you so close. “dean?”

“you're so strong, you know?” he takes a beat, a breath, “but that doesn't mean shit to me, i still wanna keep you safe all the time because god knows i don't deserve you but i'm too selfish to let you go.”

you pull away just to see his face. you need to know he means what he's saying. that you’re talking about the both of you in the way you’re thinking. the desperation to convey how he feels to you, it gives you all the confidence in the world to stand a little taller and finally kiss him.

you kiss dean winchester because for the first time in ages, someone cares, someone wants you safe. someone learned from their mistake and did better, someone is fucking perfect and it's dean. 

one of his hands is rough on your waist, the other on you cheek. his tongue, his cologne, it all makes you melt into him. 

then ten seconds later, way too deep into the kiss he pulls away slowly, shakes his head and groans, “why'd you do that.”

you step away him in panic. you were ready for rejection, sure. a small ‘i don't see you like that’, not this.

“i'm sorry, i didn't mean to—”

“no, no, hey,” he steps closer “i just... i don't wanna do this if it's gonna hurt you. i don't know how good i will be if we go down that road and you deserve something good.”

“you are dean,” he licks his bottom lip and it catches you attention, forcing you to bite on yours, “you're good. you're perfect.”

one thing i will not allow in my household is the winchester brothers being insecure that they're not enough (pov it’s all they do). anyways sooo this is for the jensen-a-thon for @artyandink so excited to have my first entry and there’s another one i’ve been working on for a week (hopefully i’m almost done with it). hope you enjoyed this!

[kaleldobrev]

Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Dean celebrate your 18-year wedding anniversary

Word Count: 2k

Warnings: Cursing (6x), Fluff

Authors Note: Happy 18th Anniversary to Supernatural which aired on September 13, 2005! In honor of that, here’s a cute little AU where reader and Dean celebrate their 18th wedding anniversary | Neither one of them are hunters | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

March 2000 – A frat house in Lawrence, Kansas

You stood leaning up against the living room wall, a red solo cup in your hand filled with a liquid that was some kind of alcohol mixture (you were told it was fruit punch and vodka – but you couldn’t be 100% sure cause it didn’t taste like either to you). You felt incredibly hot and sweaty despite the tank top and short shorts that you were wearing; the amount of people packed into each room was claustrophobic to you – and you weren’t someone where something like that normally bothered you.

Your roommate (the one that dragged you here saying that it would be fun) was nowhere in sight. This was your roommate’s idea of fun – not yours, this was far from your idea of fun. You didn’t mind being social if you had to be, but all you wanted to do was just be in bed right now watching some TV eating a giant bowl of cereal; your usual dinner of choice when you were too lazy to actually cook anything (you absolutely loved having breakfast for dinner – despite what your roommate thought).

As you stood against the wall thinking of things you much rather be doing, you almost didn’t notice a man coming to stand next to you, he too with a red solo cup. You turned to look at him briefly, flashing him an acknowledging smile so you didn’t have to talk to him – despite him being a rather attractive man. You turned again to face the crowd and took a sip out of your cup. The sound of a man’s voice caught your attention, but you had no idea what he said due to how obnoxiously loud it was. “Did you say something?” You practically yelled to the man next to you – who for some reason was wearing a heavy ass leather jacket that looked obviously too big on him. “And why are you wearing a heavy ass leather jacket in here? I’m wearing a tank top and shorts and I’m still fucking hot.”

A smirk formed on his lips. You really are fucking hot, Dean thought to himself. “I said,” he leaned in close to your ear so he wouldn’t be trying to yell over the music and the crowd, “What’s up.” He then leaned back and took a sip out of his own cup which seemed to be a much darker liquid compared to what you were drinking. Whiskey maybe? You didn’t really know any college students who drank whiskey. You guessed this guy did though.

“Oh!” You said, quietly laughing to yourself. “Sorry, I couldn’t hear you.”

“It’s alright. It’s hard to hear anything given how quiet it is in here.” He joked.

“Oh definitely.” You joked back. “To answer your question though, not much. I uh, I didn’t want to come.” You answered. “Sorry, is this your frat?”

The man scoffed. “Fuck no.” His response through you off, almost as if he was offended that you even entertained the idea of him even being a part of a frat. “I just know a couple of guys here. Frats aren’t really my thing.” He took another sip from his cup, finally smelling the whiskey on his breath. “You in a sorority?”

“Yeah, no.” You replied, sounding almost as offended as he did. “Nothing against sorority girls, but it’s not really my thing.”

“So, why are you here?” He asked, seeming genuinely curious.

“My roommate dragged me here. She’s the one in the sorority and her boyfriend is one of the frat bros from this house.” You finished the rest of your drink. “This isn’t really my idea of fun. I’m not a…party girl.” You almost mumbled the last two words.

“What is your idea of fun?” Again, he sounded genuinely curious. Maybe he wasn’t looking to just hook up – it was weirdly refreshing.

“Honestly?” You asked, and he nodded. “Anything but this.”

“So if I were to recommend pool or foosball, would that be something you’d find fun?” His suggestions intrigued you.

“Is that what you find fun?” You asked raising a brow, giving him a small smirk.

He grinned back, he too finishing up his drink. “Sweetheart, I can make anything fun.”

“Oh really?” Your voice intrigued. He simply just winked. “Listen, I don’t normally do this kind of thing –”

“Flirt?” He asked bluntly.

“Yeah…That obvious?”

He shook his head. “A little but, to be fair, the reason I came over to talk to you is because I thought you were hot.” You must of given him a look because he chuckled. “What?”

“Nothing just…never been told I’m hot before.” You admitted, it was his turn to give you a rather confused look.

“I don’t believe that.” He replied. He pointed to your cup. “Done?” He asked now reaching for it.

“Yeah.” You replied, handing him your empty cup.

“Are you busy Tuesday night?” His voice sounding a little nervous, yet confident.

“No, why?”

“Want to go on a date? I know a bar just outside of town that has foosball and the best bacon cheeseburgers you’ll ever have.” You did like the sound of that. “Unless foosball and bacon cheeseburgers aren’t your idea of fun.”

You gave him a smile, not wanting to admit to him that those two things were actually your idea of fun. “Well, you did say you can make anything fun.” You said, your tone teasing.

“So is that a yes Sweetheart?” You didn’t like the nickname, but gave it a pass considering how hot he was.

“That’s a yes.” You smiled, holding out your hand. “I’m Y/N.”

He took your hand in his and shook it firmly. “Dean.” He said, flashing you one of the best smiles you’ve ever seen.

September 13, 2023 – Y/N & Dean’s House in Kansas City, Kansas

You woke up to the sound of your alarm – 7:15am on the dot, and let out a tiny groan. You had no intentions of getting up for at least another hour; hating that you actually set an alarm – especially since you purposely took this week off. You felt Dean’s bare arm wrap around your waist and bring you closer to his chest, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. The stubble actually feeling weirdly nice on your bare shoulder. “Good morning.” You said, your voice lazy.

A single kiss was placed on your shoulder, the feeling making you slightly shudder, giving you goosebumps. “Morning Sweetheart.” He replied sounding just as lazy. “I thought you weren’t setting alarms.”

“I forgot to unset it.” You answered. You didn’t have to look to know he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.” He replied, sounding like he didn’t believe you. “So, what’s the plan for today?”

“Have rough sex in bed.” You replied, your tone joking but at the same time, this was something you knew you or him wouldn’t actually mind doing today.

“Oh?” He asked. “You know, I do like the sound of that.” He kissed your shoulder again before you turned to face him.

“Why do I hear a but coming?” You asked.

“But…I do have another idea.” He said.

“And what’s that?”

“You remember The Bunker right?” He asked. How could you ever forget? It was the bar that Dean took you on your first date over 23 years ago. You nodded. “Well, I talked to the owner the other day and mentioned that we went there for our first date over 23 years ago and well…I took a shot in the dark and asked if he would be able to close the bar for the night…just for the two of us.”

You raised a brow. You were both impressed and confused. “How much did this cost you?” You asked. You hated that that was the first thing on your mind.

“Nothin’.” He answered almost too quickly. It sounded almost too good to be true.

“Nothing?” You asked in disbelief.

“Nothing.” He smiled.

“Alright. I trust you.” You said.

In reality it did cost Dean something, but it wasn’t money. In exchange for renting out the bar for the night for just the two of them, he agreed to fix the owner’s car.

September 13, 2023 – The Bunker Bar in Lebanon, Kansas

The bar looked exactly as you had remembered it – and smelled just as it did all those years ago. Although you and Dean used to come here almost every single weekend during your junior and senior year of college (you would make a weekend trip out of it), the two of you eventually stopped coming as frequently once you and him moved to Kansas City. The last time you and him had come here was probably 15 years ago. “So, we have the whole place to ourselves uh?” You asked, looking up at your husband – wearing something similar to how he dressed on your first date. It amazed you that he had actually remembered what he had wore. “I don’t normally fuss when it comes to outfits but…I really, really wanted to impress you.” Was something he told you during your wedding vows years later. Although he wanted to impress you, he still wore something similar to how he normally dressed, but the burgundy-colored shirt over the top of a black t-shirt and dark wash jeans was a look that was probably one of your favorites on him. His hair was even slightly gelled the same way.

“We sure do.” He smiled, admiring you. If he was being honest with himself, he never thought he’d be here right now with you. He didn’t think the date was going to go anywhere, despite it wanting to. He really thought someone like you would never of given him the time of day. “I really thought you were fucking with me when you asked me out and told me I was hot.” Was something you said to him during your first date. “I would never fuck with someone like this.” He reassured you.

“Think the bacon cheeseburgers are just as good as we remember?” You asked.

“I think so.” He said almost too quickly, but then rethought his answer. “Then again, I think I’ve only ever had them when I had a few drinks in me already.”

The two of you did your best to try and re-create your first date you had together all those years ago. Playing pool, foosball, indulging on bacon cheeseburgers, chili fries, mozzarella sticks, and beer. Despite loving all of this food, the two of you didn’t eat this food all at once – you knew both of your stomachs were going to hurt the rest of the night or maybe the next day, but neither of you seemed to care.

As the two of you were sitting at one of the tables, empty plates and baskets of food surrounding you, you opened up your purse and took out a box, handing it to Dean. He looked at you and started wiping his hands on a napkin in front of him. “What’s this?” He asked.

“Your anniversary gift.” You replied with a smile. “I know it won’t be as extravagant as this but, I still hope you like it.”

“It’s from you. Of course I’ll love it.” He winked, taking the box from you. He shook the box, trying his best to try and figure out the contents of the box. It sounded almost empty – which confused him.

“Just open it.” You said. “Trust me.”

“So bossy.” He winked, and you rolled your eyes. Unwrapping the box, it was plain and white, almost the size of a necklace box. Lifting the lid his eyes went wide. “No fucking…Y/N.” He looked up at you, and he was grinning from ear to ear.

“Season tickets.” You smiled. “I know you’ve been wanting them for a while.” You said.

You had gotten him season tickets for the Dallas Cowboys – his favorite NFL team, despite living in Kansas his entire life, then again, you too had lived in Kansas all your life and you were a Patriots fan.

Dean leaned across the table and kissed you, the two of you smiling into it. “I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.” You replied back. “Happy Anniversary.”

“Happy Anniversary.” He smiled back, the two of you kissing again.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You're cornered and chased by Bartholomew's minions. Separated from Sam and Cas, you and Dean make a run for it. Lust finds you both when you're finally safe. Dean rocks your world.

Words: 3.4k

A/N: This is smutty part 3 of what's now looking like a longer series since I've settled on a cute, fluffy and smutty part 4. At this point I don't think I'll ever be sated in my need for this man but Im so not sorry about it 😂

I do hope you enjoy part 3. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2 check out the Cherry Pie Kiss Masterlist. As always, I value your comments and feedback. Drop a dime and let me know what you think.

Warnings: Smut. Canon-typical action/adventure. Running for your lives. Bit of angst.

*** 18+ Minors Do Not Read or Interact ***

Dean Winchester.  You hate him.  His stubbornness and stoic grace.  His tenacity and faith that, no matter what, you guys will get it done if you stick together.  The way his eyes pierce you down to your soul when he stares.  At least that’s what you try to tell yourself, hoping that others will believe it too.  Truth is, you’re just as stubborn as he is, holding onto this façade when hatred is so far from what you feel.

Dean sits behind Baby’s wheel, having stormed away from the Gas’n’Sip in frustration.  His eyes follow your every move and your body language as you and Sam try to convince Cas, for the umpteenth time, to come with you.  Dean had taken it personally when Cas had refused, and after several attempts at reasoning, bargaining, and begging, Dean had given up, choosing to sit out any further attempts at persuasion.

You look over at the black Impala with its radiant chrome and glossy darkness.  The man inside looks away out to road not wanting the hurt, so plain on his face, to be seen.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you say to Sam, touching his forearm gently as he continues to reason with the fallen Angel.

You feel compelled to at least try to comfort Dean.  Since you two had talked that night in the dingy room-only motel out in Crocker, you had maintained a stable yet strained connection.  You had still been pissed at him for using you and Sam as bait so you had sent him back to his room with another kiss and the promise of “when I’m ready”.  Since then, you two had never been alone for more than a few minutes; there was always Sam, or witnesses, or monsters.

Dean’s head snaps your way when you pull the door open, his face schooled into that smooth mask he wears when he’s hurt but unwilling to be vulnerable.  Cas’s decision has really hit him hard.

Sliding in the passenger side, you angle yourself towards him and reach to take one of his hands which is picking at the fingernails of his other.  Ordinarily, you wouldn’t risk such a gesture but with Sam a couple of hundred meters away and the height of the dash to obscure it, you’re not worried.

Dean allows the contact, his head hanging.  “Cas made his choice.”  His voice is low and gravelly with emotion.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind.”  You reason, trying not to throw fuel on the fire.

“He knows where I am if he does.”  He states, matter of fact.  “I’m not wasting another breath on him.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“You’re my best friend.”  Dean looks at you and squeezes your hand which is entwined with his, resting on his thigh.  “You and Sam.”

“I’m just some girl you want to fuck.”  You chuckle, and Deans lips quirk a subtle smirk briefly before he replies.

The words don’t come out, however.  Dean catches movement at the side of the Gas’N’Sip, and he drops your hand to turn over the engine, thrusting the heel of his other hand on Baby’s horn as he does so.

Sam and Cas look in your direction and then see the four figures walking quickly and with purpose, coming between them and the Impala.  Shit!  Angels.  Bartholomew’s minions, no doubt.  How have they found you again?

“Son of a bitch!”  Dean hisses, cranking the car into drive, kicking up stones in the gravel lot as the wheels spin, gaining traction to take you to Sam and Cas.

You fumble your seatbelt, sliding on the seat and right into Dean with a grunt as he swerves to avoid a blacked-out Escalade that grinds to a halt between you and your friends.

Sam and Cas are already on the move, running fast towards the gold Lincoln pimpmobile Cas had somehow acquired, Sam waving Dean off as they scramble into the car and peel out of the lot before the Angels could reach them.  You, however, are stuck.  With the Escalade and four fallen angels between you and the lot exit, Dean turns the wheel, locking it out and put his foot on the gas, spinning the car around with an horrific noise from the tyres.  At the back of the lot is a chainlink fence with a gate that leads to a dirt road which split in two, one branch heading to the highway, the other into scrubland that precedes a dense-looking woodland.  You can lose them in the trees.

Dean winces as he ploughs baby through the chainlink gate, lamenting the damage that is sure to be done, and turns the car towards the highway.

“We can lose them in the trees,” you cry, point to the woods.

“Baby doesn’t have the ground clearance for it,” Dean says roughly, manoeuvring the car through a side-on skid with the heel of his hand on the wheel and his other hand gripping the side of the seat to stop himself from sliding as the car spins.  Once straight, he slams his food on the gas and burns rubber onto the tarmac, heading in the opposite direction to Sam and Cas.

You know he’s right about the car.  The Escalade is 4x4 and sits high which gives it the advantage off road in the woods when the trail inevitably turns to a glorified hiking path.  You’re not even sure the highway is a much better option given that Baby is an older, classic car, but you know Dean keeps her in tip-top shape and she’s got a lot of power under her hood.  That being said, the Escalade could be seen in the rearview, weaving through traffic to catch up to you.

The shrill ring of your phone makes you jump as you try to focus on the road and on what’s behind.  You need to be a second set of eyes for Dean while he’s pushing Baby to create some distance from the Escalade.

“Hey, Sam!”  You sigh with relief, reading his name on your display, putting him on speaker.

“This is Castiel,” the former Angel’s flat tone carries from the phone.  “Sam is driving.  He said I’m too slow.”

You grin big.  That’s a classic Winchester brother thing to do.  From the corner of your eye you see Dean smirk.

“Just tell them we’re headed west and haven’t been followed.”  Sam sighed with mild frustration.

“Damn it’s good to hear your voice, Sammy!”  Dean spoke loudly in that extra deep tone he uses when he is running on adrenalin.  You know he left Cas out because he is still hurt, but you also know he’s glad Cas is safe too.

“We’re headed in the opposite direction,” you explain.  “The vehicle followed us and we’re trying to shake them but they’re keeping up.”

“Pretty soon we’ll run out of traffic, and on the open road we’ll never lose them.”  Dean frowns as he hunts in the rearview for your pursuers.

“Maybe you can head into the wilderness, hole up and set traps.”  Sam offers.  “We can turn around and try to catch up.”

“No!”  Dean snaps.  “You’re both safe.  I want you to stay that way.  Get someplace and lay low.  We’ll get this done and I’ll call you, ok?”

“Dean…”  Cas begins to speak but Dean is having none of it.

“I said No!  Okay?  For once, just do what I say.  We’ve got this.”

You hang up the phone without waiting for a response.  You can see how worked up Dean is, his brain running overtime as he tries to figure out a plan while he’s trying to evade Bartholomew’s lackies on a road full of other cars.

The satellite map on your phone shows a complex set of junctions several miles up ahead where this road meets and crosses with two interstates, branching off in multiple places to service a small city surrounded by a cluster of smaller towns.  It looks promising and Dean agrees.

The junction of the roads has raised on and off ramps that weave in and around the support structures of the main interstate, with frontage roads servicing the branches at intervals.  Traffic is heavy and Dean follows a newer model black Cady onto the interstate by one of the on-ramps, only to cut across the lanes harshly and slip onto a skewed off-ramp, hoping the Escalade will follow the newer Cady.  Slowing down at the end of the off-ramp, he turns to take the frontage road in the opposite direction, heading slowly up the on-ramp for the interstate carriage way going back in the direction from which you had come, so as not to rejoin too soon and be spotted on the other side.

You check all around as soon as you crest the on-ramp back onto the road, praying you don’t see the black government-style vehicle.  Dean doesn’t wait to find out, he puts his foot down and puts a few eighteen wheelers between you and whatever is behind you.

“I think we’re clear,” you say after about fifteen minutes of hypervigilance.

“Don’t jinx it, sweetheart.”  Dean keeps his eyes on the road, the wheel clasped in two white-knuckled fists.

Switching from the interstate to a smaller road and then to another road but still taking you away from where Sam and Cas had headed, Dean starts to relax.  He chances a look at you, to find you looking right back.  The tension in his neck and jaw haven’t melted away yet but he doesn’t have that hard look of focused fury that he usually does when in fight or flight mode.  He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but the glances between you become more frequent as though you’re both checking on each other to make sure the other is okay, needing to visually check each time.

A sign by the side of the road identifies the beautiful landscape to your left as Black Water Natural Forest, and with the sun beginning to set behind the mountains in the distance, it seems a good place to wait out the sunset.  You point to the sign and Deans nods.  He doesn’t argue, knowing you need a place to park-up off road away from prying eyes to get your bearings and make a plan to meet up with your friends.

As the road gets narrower and the trees get more dense, Dean slows the car, casting furtive glances at you.  It’s making your skin burn, the way he looks at you now, with that hunger in his eyes.  You feel it too.  Weeks of tension built between you, and todays threat to your lives now culminating in a deep need for some kind of release.  You lick your lips, breathing shallow and quick as you try to regain your composure, but Dean isn’t doing much better.  You look at him fully and he all but moans when he sees the look in your eye.

A turn off presents itself that leads to a small muddy lot where hikers can park their cars when they venture out into the forest.  Dean brings Baby to a stop so hard your seatbelt catches you, then he yanks it into park and fumbles for the seal lever.  You unclip your belt as the front seat slides back fully and he reaches for you, helping you straddle his lap.

You waste no time, kissing him fervently as you unbutton your shirt while he tries to push it from your shoulders before it’s open.  Breaths are gasps released between kisses, tongues touching, tasting and tempting more passion, and you succumb to the frenzy of heat that’s born of your need to feel something other than fear.  Your need to feel him.

You’re both a mess of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses as clothes are shucked and skin exposed.  You try to stand, your legs either side of his as you unbutton your jeans and he unclasps his belt.

The loud sound of the Impala’s horn echoes out amongst the trees, startling birds so they take wing and both of you into stillness and silence.

Dean looks at you with panic but then grins and laughs, reaching to tug your jeans down your legs until they’re bunched up around your boots.

It’s awkward but you can still straddle him like this and, as you kneel back onto the black leather seat, he lifts his hips to grind himself impatiently against you.  The desperation in your eyes is matched by the eagerness in his.  He is rapt, eyes absorbing the sights and sounds of your body and of your pleasure as you grind yourself against him.  Your slicked pussy drenching his cock as you slide yourself along his length but deny him entry just when his tip catches at your entrance.

Dean fondles your breasts, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your skin until he reaches your hardening peaks.  His kisses become more suckling then, nibbling them and flicking them firmly with his tongue until you’re almost shaking above him.

“You ready for me?”  You ask, breathless.

“Sweetheart,” he treats you to his classic sultry smirk, “I’ve been ready for you since you moved in.”

You grin, knowing he’s been jonesing for you for that long.  Truth be told, you’d wanted him for longer but the hate you made yourself feel for him was an adequate distraction from it.

Biting your lip, you reach between you, taking his wet shaft in hand and positioning it at your entrance.  Your eyes meet as you begin to skink down on him, inching down in a shallow rocking motion with Dean stroking your hips and waist as you work at it.  He resists the urge to thrust up into you at first, allowing you to get accustomed to him.

When you bottom him out, he presses down on your hips firmly, lifting his just enough to give you a deep pleasurable pressure that has you groaning and your eyes rolling back.

You are tight despite being very wet, and the way you squeeze him has him twitching heavily against your walls.

“Fuck…”  he groans as you begin to move, leaning back slightly so he hits all the right spots inside you.

“I’m not going to last long,” you laugh breathily.

“No problem,” Dean says, his hands gripping your hips hard, helping you ride him a little faster now.  “We’ll get you for two.”

He doesn’t even have to reach down to stroke your clit, you come all by yourself, grinding on him with a sexy roll of your hips he knows should be good for you, your clit rubbing against his soft hair.  He can feel you spasming and clenching around him and it feels like heaven, even better than warm cherry pie hitting his taste buds.

“You feel freaking amazing.”  He growls, pulling you forward to suckle on the delicate skin of your neck.

“Right back at’cha,” you sigh against pleasure.

He rolls you to the side, and lays you on your back on the seat, still buried in you to the hilt.  Looking down at your heated face, your skin glowing from your orgasm, Dean thinks you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, with a possible exception of Baby.  Okay, you’re the most beautiful living thing he’s ever seen.

Looking up at Dean, his brow creased in concentration, his eyes dark with lust, you don’t think you have ever been turned on by anyone as much as this man.  Damn, he’s hot!  Riding the adrenaline of the chase, you had been desperate for an outlet.  Now that is out of your mind, you lose yourself in the man between your thighs, you’re focused solely on the feeling of him buried deep, and the rising tide of pleasure.  The windows steam up as you grind and roll your bodies together, and you think you might combust from the heat of him.

When he meets and holds your gaze, your heart almost stops.  There you see more than just lust, more than just the passion between you.  It’s deep and hidden, secret almost, and it surfaces as affection that softens his eyes.  You reach up to stroke his face as his grinding hips keep their measured pace and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand, closing his eyes with a tender sigh.

His vulnerability in that moment lances electricity to your core and you spasm powerfully around him.  His eyes flash open and he sees you’re close again but he doesn’t grin cockily like he might have done earlier, instead he leans down to kiss you, leaning his forehead on yours as you grip the back of his neck and look into his gorgeous eyes.  With your other hand on his hip, sliding round to his ass you guide the speed and depth of his thrusts and you roll your hips to meet his.

As you guide him to slow down he thinks he’ll lose the pleasure he’s cultivated so far but he can now feel more of you and it’s more intense because it’s slow and prolonged.  He almost laughs at how it changes everything and he gasps with surprise when he starts to feel his orgasm coming.  He knows he needs to pull out but you hold him on place with your hands and your heels.

“Give me everything,” you moan as you feel him swell.  “I need to feel you, nice and deep.”

Dean groans with pleasure watching your eyes sparkle with heat for him.

“I want it,” you almost beg.  “Want you.”

He nods, biting his lip as bends to your desire.

Spurred on by your permission, Dean thrusts deeper until he bottoms out, moaning your name as he comes deep inside you.  Your walls contract as he fills you, your climax a deep rolling pleasure that courses your whole body.  Everything feels so right, he feels right.  The way you two fit, the way he makes you feel.  It’s like a low-key destiny you’re more than willing to succumb to.

Dean doesn’t just pull out and get off you once you’re both done, he flips you so your lay on his chest.  There he holds you and strokes you back and hips, your hair and your face until you lift your head to look at him.  Then he smirks cockily and you swat his chest.

“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” you chastise him.

“Hey, I keep my promises,” he says with that trademark smirk playing on his plush lips.  “Would’a give you more but we’re kinda on the run here, sweetheart.”

“You can owe me, how ‘bout that?”  You push yourself up and try to find your clothes.

He grins at the confirmation that this isn’t just a one-time deal.  “Hell yeah!  Sign me up.”

You clean up with wipes from your travel bag as Dean calls Sam.  You watch the relieved interaction from the front fender of Baby while Dean paces in the dirt a few meters away.  You apply some flavoured lip balm to your kiss bruised lips as he works out the logistics of meeting up and what to do about Bartholomew.

After the call, Dean beelines straight for you, sliding his hands around your waist and burying his face in your neck, kissing playfully.

“I take it we’ve got a few hours at least until we can meet Sam and Cas.”  You thread your fingers through his messy hair, trailing your fingernails over his scalp which he seems to really like.

“Several.”  He says against your delicate skin.

“Whatever are we gonna do to pass the time?”  You smile as you picture the pair of you fucking all over his car.

“I can think of a few things,” he surfaces with a hungry look, leaning back in to kiss you.

Your soft lips claim his once more as you melt into his arms, the kiss heated and full of need.  Dean kisses you with such force it steals your breath and makes your knees weak, and when he pulls back he looks at you thoughtfully.  Licking his lips and tasting you on them, he grins.

“Cherry,” his eyes go to your lips again, “I like it.”

Dean’s talented tongue makes you forget any quip you might have said, as he lifts you onto Baby’s hood and keeps his promise.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

With Love From

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~800

Warnings: fluff

Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x wife reader that she spoiled and pampering him to much but she don’t cared and she love giving him love, attention, affection, and etc all things him always dreamed?. something cute and fluffy because him deserve all the love from the world. 

Summary: You take Dean on a much-needed vacation and give him everything he wants and deserves.

Square Filled: driving in the impala (2022) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

“Got your pajamas?”

“Yes.”

“Toothbrush and toothpaste?”

“Yes.”

“What about your chargers? I put an extra one in your bag just in case.”

“What are you, my mom?” Dean jokes. “Yes, I have everything.”

“Okay, don’t come crying to me when you’ve forgotten something and ask to use my toothbrush. I won’t do it again.”

“That was one time.”

“One time too many. We’ve done a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but sharing a toothbrush is gonna be a no for me.”

“Yes, I have everything. Why are you bugging out? You’re never like this whenever we go on a hunt.”

Dean takes both yours and his bags to the library where Sam is. He has his laptop and plenty of books all around him. There is a case not far from here that he is reading up on since he is going to be the one to tackle this case.

“We’re not going on a hunt,” you reveal when he sets the bags on the table.

“What?”

“We’re not going on a hunt.”

“Sam’s been working like crazy about this case a few towns over.”

“Yeah because he’s going to be the one to take care of it. We’re not.”

“Sam, what is she talking about?” Dean asks.

“Dude, I am just as clueless as you,” he chuckles and closes his laptop. “All I know is that I’m doing this one solo.”

“If we’re not going on a hunt, where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“You know I hate surprises,” Dean practically whines.

“Well, you’re getting one today. No hunt. No monsters. Definitely alcohol. Does that sound like a great time?” you smile.

“Sounds like a Saturday to me.”

“Come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.” You see the look on Dean’s face and immediately shuts down what he is going to say next. “If Sam needs help, he can call Garth.”

“Yeah, go have fun. I got this,” Sam backs you up.

You and Dean pack up the Impala and say your goodbyes to Sam who barely waves you two off. Dean is always the driver unless otherwise preoccupied, so he gets behind the wheel even though he has no idea where he’s going. You’re going to be the navigator for this special trip, only telling him what turns to make right before he needs to do them.

“Shall I put on the special playlist?”

“Special playlist? What’s the occasion?”

“I love you. Is that enough?”

“More than enough,” he smiles.

His special playlist consists of songs he could listen to on repeat for hours. Sam doesn’t let him put the playlist on since Sam complains he needs to listen to more than just classic rock. He claims they all sound the same even though each has their own unique sound.

About halfway through the trip, you stopped to get food at Dean’s favorite diner. He often comes here while on hunts even if it’s hours out of the way. There’s something about the way they make their burgers that has his mouth watering every single time.

“Okay, tell me where we’re going,” Dean chuckles with his mouth full.

“I told you it’s a surprise,” you smile. “You’re going to love it.”

Dean has no choice but to trust you. Once you two get done eating, you get back on the road and tough out the last half of the trip. You took over driving for the last hour just so he wouldn’t be suspicious of where you two were going but as soon as Dean sees the town’s name, he gets so excited.

“Wait, we’re in Mt. Sterling?”

“Yeah.”

You drive to one of the best gun stores in America. They have such a high rating since people from all over the country come here just to buy guns. Dean has been wanting to come here for a long time, and you figure it’s time to bring him. Dean is practically bouncing in his seat when you park, and he jumps out of the car in excitement.

You watch him run into the store with a smile on your face, and you make sure the car is locked before following him inside. He is like a child loose in a candy store or a toy store. He is admiring all of the guns on display, holding them just to feel how they would fit in his hands.

“Pick any you want. I’ll get it for you.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you so much,” he grins and kisses you.

Seeing him so happy brings you so much joy. He doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to be this happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be this happy most of the time, so taking time to give him this is very important. He channels his inner child and goes wild. He settled on another handgun that closely resembles the one he has now, but it has a silencer on the end of it which will make for easy hunting.

After he got all that excitement out, you two headed to the bar across the street to have a few rounds on you.

“How the hell did I ever get so lucky?” he smiles.

“I’m the lucky one, my love. You deserve all the love in the world.”

Dean leans in and kisses you, happy to be yours.

x

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

[green-typewriterz]

i would love literally anything sam winchester related the lack of fics r astounding.. maybe something fluffy?? ive had a bad week would so cheer me up

Best fake-real husband

ASKS ARE OPEN

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

Summary: You and Sam go undercover in a small town to find out what's been happening to the disappearing couples.

ASK: above

Warnings: typical supernatural violence, awkward moments, mid season sam (in my mind it’s season 5 so its not following canon plot)

Author notes: Thankyou so much for the ask!!! I hope this is good :))) also Sam is the leader of the Sassy man army and if you don’t think so you can leave. Also thank you to @midsummeranderson for helping me plan <3

word count: 4110

You had always hated suburban houses, they just seemed empty, unforgiving. Though you didn’t have much of a choice. Bobby had a case and you two were to go undercover.

”Husband and wife…” Sam began, a glint in his eyes as he moved around the open plan kitchen, opening the windows to salve the heat that bit at their necks.

You smiled in reply, laying out weapons to move to the spare room. “Not awkward at all.” You replied and he laughed, shrugging his usual flannel onto a chair and digging into his bag.

Sam looked up, smiling, holding two rings in his hand. “Nope. I’m going to be the best fake-real husband ever. Dean thinks I can’t and I’m kinda determined to prove him wrong.” You sigh and shake your head, but there’s no annoyance behind it. Trust Dean to make a game out of it.

A piece of hair fell in front of his eyes - it’s so long now that it reaches his shoulders, princelike. “Well then I guess I’ll have to be a good wife.” He hummed in agreement and you tucked his hair back behind his ear and a smile spread across his face. “Looks like I’m off to a good start, Sam Heathcliff.”

You gently slipped the ring onto your finger, the metal slightly too big for you. It was your grandmothers, a mix of silver and sapphire. Sam places his dad’s wedding band on his own hand, fiddling with it gently. It made you smile softly, how the ring was cold against your skin - your grandmother had always wanted you to wear it.

A knock at the door pulled you out of your memories and the two of you looked to each other with confusion, Dean wasn’t meant to be here until later that evening. You opened the door cautiously, flitting into character when you saw a 57 year old woman holding a large pie in her hands.

She grinned cheerily, pushing the dish forward into your hands as she spoke, you didn’t really have another choice but to take it (you’d probably hand it off to Dean later.) “Hi,” the voice sounded fake, satirical. She never met your eyes, she was almost entirely focused on Sam. “I heard there was a new couple in town, thought I’d do the neighbourly thing and say hi.” She began, flicking her hair over her shoulder in a particularly suggestive manner. “We’d love to have you over this weekend, monthly barbeque.”

You looked at Sam, who looked entirely uncomfortable with the attention he was receiving and wrapped your arms around his waist. “We’d love to…” you waited for a name, the woman smiled with annoyance, as if she hated you speaking to her.

“Helen. Watson.”

The two of you introduced yourself and agreed to go, knowing the gathering would be useful to get information. With one last glance at Sam, Helen turned around and left, allowing you to breathe a sigh of relief.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Dean came round that evening, constantly grinning and mocking and (as you had expected) he greeted the pie with open arms. “Look you two,” he began, as if he were an expert on the subject, “You’re practically a couple already, just… act like you’re in your honeymoon phase for the old women.”

He stated this as if it were an obvious fact and you raised your brows at his use of the word ‘honeymoon’. Sam looked away in annoyance (Something Dean found extremely funny). It seemed as though the younger Winchester couldn’t wait to get rid of Dean and so, as soon as he had finished his pie, he was forced out the door and back to the impala. There was a second sigh of relief when the door closed.

Though it had seemed like a smart idea at the time, the two of you were sorely regretting filling the spare room with hunting gear as it had left you with one bedroom. “I’ll take the couch,” Sam said as he gathered some clothes to sleep in, you stood in the doorway, arms folded as you shook your head.

“Not a chance, you’d barely fit on this bed imagine how uncomfortable you'd be downstairs.” You argued and he shook his head, trying to claim that he’d slept worse. Eventually, the two of you came to an agreement. Sam would sleep over the covers, you’d sleep under them (he always got hot at night anyway - especially during the summer).

You excused yourself to the bathroom and by the time you had gotten back Sam was already asleep, long hair falling gently over his eyes. You lay down beside him and got comfortable, though you forgot just how much Sam moved in his sleep. He seemed to subconsciously move closer to you, warm, tan skin flush against yours.

His face was inches from yours, holding a gentle smile as if he were happily dreaming (though that was something that didn’t happen often). You gently moved the hair from his eyes and he moved closer still, broad shoulders brushing against you. You fell asleep in the comfort of his warmth and awoke with his arms wrapped securely around you. He wasn’t awake yet, you always woke up before him.

You eventually found it in yourself to move from his grip and headed downstairs, intending to make breakfast for the two of you. He was downstairs a few moments later, hair a sweet, tousled mess on his head. You smiled sweetly but neither of you spoke - there wasn’t much need to.

The two of you seemed to move around each other as if you had been married for years as you got ready for the barbeque, passing each other what you needed wordlessly. Chalk it up to years of hunting together.

“Todays gonna be entertaining for me.” You stated, a smirk on your face. He tilted his head in confusion as if he were a dog and you smiled, eyes drifting to his shoulders for a moment. “C’mon Sam, it’s a town of 47 year old women who hate their husbands and you’re a - very awkward - 6 '4 man. A handsome one at that.” He blushed and turned away, continuing to get ready.

His hands fiddled with the jacket in front of him. “Yeah, so?” You smiled at him, opening the front door as you spoke again.

“So, it’s gonna be fun watching you squirm.” Your smile turned to a grin and Sam shook his head, following you out the door.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You were right, as expected. Although most were fine, one specific group of women made an exaggerated effort to fan themselves, whispering to each other about Sam. They almost immediately ushered you over. You sent a look to your best friend and headed toward them.

Immediately, they began to gossip, asking you about how you and Sam met and you could barely get a word in edgeways. There were compliments thrown at you too, but you knew they were just to stop you ‘feeling jealous.’

“How did you get so lucky?” One woman, Helen, asked. Her voice was wrought with envy as she stared over at Sam. Part of you understood why they were staring, Sam looked strangely good in the traditional small town husband attire. His white polo had a few buttons undone and the fabric was tight on his arms (Dean had ordered the wrong size) and his long hair was held back from his head by a pair of sunglasses, a few stray pieces falling over his eyes. The only part you weren’t a fan of was the khaki shorts…but it seemed to be the dress code in the town so you brushed it off - you and Dean would probably make fun of him for it later. He felt his gaze on you and turned to meet your eyes, smiling softly and winking. The women around you giggled and you rolled your eyes, to which he laughed.

It turned out that talking to the four women was the best thing for the case, they absolutely adored gossip. “Couples have been going missing, it always starts with the husbands.” Margaret whispered excitedly, “It happened to the couple who were here before you, sweet things.” she continued, sipping on a glass of wine.

You tilted your head, something Sam recognised from a distance, you’d had an idea. “Do they leave anything behind? People can’t just disappear?” You asked, pulling your hand through your hair.

Helen shook her head. “The damn council barely clean out the houses.” You nodded. Bingo. If the house hadn’t been thoroughly cleaned, chances are there’d be evidence. Helen continued to ramble and you were listening intently, until a hand gently slid onto your waist.

You let out a gasp but the strong smell of cedarwood and amber calmed you down. You knew exactly who it was. His grip pulls tighter around you and you lean into him, head resting on his chest. You felt your face flush - something you were praying he didn’t notice.

“How did you two meet?” One woman asked and you looked at each other, making sure without ever even speaking that you had the story right.

Sam leaned his head on yours and sweetly said, “why don’t you take this one, honey.” his eyes sparkled with mischief, he was trying to throw you off and the hand that was massaging your side was proof of that.

You met his eyes with the same excitement, if he wanted to play, you were really going to go for it. “We both worked as government agents, met on the field. Hence all the scars.” The women nodded in realisation, looking at some of the injuries you hadn’t quite managed to hide. “He wasn’t the biggest fan of mine at first but I grew on him, isn’t that right darling?”

Sam nodded, his eyes not leaving yours as he replied, “and now I don’t want to be without her ever again.” He found that sentence to be more true than he thought.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

Sam sent an exasperated look your way as he raked a hand through his hair (and sadly took the glasses off his head). “How were the boys?” you asked with a smile and he turned to make sure no one was watching before dropping the facade.

“I’m actually shocked how much I don’t know about football.” He replied and you both laughed, him leaning into you as he smiled. He looked outside at the group of gossipping women before adding on, “they seemed…friendly.”

You laughed, “to you, sure, but I think it’s because they want you in their bed.” The sentence was blunt and Sam’s eyes widened, cheeks blushing a strong red. You, however, continued as if you had never said anything, “I think it could be witches? We’d have to search for hex bags though.” He nodded, not meeting your eyes (he was slightly flustered).

The two of you eventually said your goodbyes and made your way down the street, Sam looked annoyed with himself. “What’s up?”

He sighed, “this one guy, Glenn, roped me into holding a housewarming party…” You stared at him incredulously, did he not try to say no? Sam recognised the look in your eyes and defended himself, “the man was incredibly persuasive!” You shook your head but knew there was no way out of it. You weren’t the best at party planning.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The long stretch of grocery store met you as you and Sam stood in the doorway. You didn’t often do this as hunters so it was a slightly daunting task. You looked at each other with tired eyes and went your separate ways, deciding to cover ground as if it were a hunt…just for nachos.

You rounded a corner only to see Helen stood there. Not wanting to be stuck in conversation again, you instantly turned on your heel, hiding behind a row of sauces. Though, something caught your eye. In Helen’s basket, clearly hidden just not very well, was a large amount of herbs and salt. What got you interested was the extreme amount of basil and sage.

Witches. Had to be.

Sam approached you, smiling gently. Something about the situation made him look so… domestic. You tried to motion to him what you were thinking but he seemed so fixated on you, his reaching out for yours. “Can you do your job?” you spoke, the words sounding harsher than you had intended. He instantly pulled back, face twisting with annoyance.

“What?”

“Take the hint, Sam. Behind me.”

You continued to whisper back and forth in annoyance, alerting Helen who watched in confusion. You quickly turned to look at her and sighed as she approached, hiding the herbs with the rest of her groceries. “Lovers quarrel?” she joked and the two of you laughed in the same way Bobby would when Dean told another of his bad jokes.

Sam made excuses as you looked at her, trying to see if you could spot any witch runes on her. It seemed as though she was trying to do the same to you. “Well isn’t that tattoo…neat!” She said, trying to hide the venom in her voice as she pointed out the anti-possession tattoo on your collarbone. Great.

You looked at Sam in annoyance and turned back to Helen. “Thanks! I saw it in a magazine!” You tried to explain away but you knew you’d been caught, she had spotted you and you her. Though she was very keen to stay in conversation, Sam made a quick excuse and you both left as soon as you could.

“Told you it was witches.”

Sam didn’t reply. The car journey back was completely silent, an unspoken annoyance building in the both of you. Neither of you said a word until the front door closed. “Nice job letting her see the tattoo.” Sam said annoyedly, turning to look at you.

You sighed and turned away, packing away the groceries. “Maybe if you spent less time flirting and more time actually hunting we’d be done by now! This isn’t exactly a hard case, we don't need more bodies to our name.” The reply was sharp and annoyed.

He suddenly grabbed your wrist so you’d look at him. “I’m doing my job just fine.” His eyes were locked with yours. You stepped closer.

“No, you’re not. You’re distracted.” Sam scoffed, his minty breath fanning against your cheek from how close you were. His hand was still firmly on your wrist.

An annoyed smile spread across his face and a muscle in his neck tensed. “Oh yeah? And why would I be distracted?” You stared directly at him, from his long hair that fell over his unreadable gaze to the smoothness of his bronzed skin.

You found yourself stepping closer again. “You tell me.”

There was a crushing silence, the only sound being your sharp breaths. Suddenly, Sam’s grip on your hand moved to your waist and he pulled you into him, his lips colliding with yours. You leaned into him, hands grabbing his hair harshly. He kissed you as if he were hungry, as if he had been waiting for years - maybe he had. He lifted you easily and sat you on the kitchen counter, leaning back from the kiss for a split second. His chest rose quickly in hot breaths as he kissed you again. You bit his bottom lip - letting blood drip as his hands gripped your skin.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

The party was loud and irritating, there wasn’t a moment where you had time for yourself, not one point where you weren’t ’y/n Heathcliff’. You and Sam had barely talked after the evening before - you didn’t know what to say.

You knew Helen would be at the party, not only would it be good to keep up appearances but she could get her next victim from it. Sam sent you a look and you nodded once, heading toward the spare bedroom in search of weapons, just in case.

A small, easily hidden knife was being placed into your waistband when Sam opened the door, closing it harshly behind him. “Sorry,” he said quietly, “had to get away from Miriam.”

You laughed gently and went back to preparing, not wanting to meet his eyes. “Helen’s here.”

“I know.”

Silence again. You sighed, “and you just left her out there? Alone?” His brows furrowed and he offered a witty remark, starting another hushed argument between the two of you.

On the other side of the door, Miriam and Margaret pressed their ears to the wood, giggling like school children at how the argument sounded to them. Through the muffled walls, all they could hear was gasps and sharp noises - of course they assumed what they wanted.

Sam’s hands pushed through his hair as he sighed, uncertain of what to do, when suddenly the door started opening. He rushed forward and pushed against it, rushing out a quick, “one moment!” All he heard in reply was laughs.

“What do we do?” He asked nervously and you stood still, nervous, until a thought popped into your head. You held your hands out - asking for permission and, once he nodded, you placed your hands gently in his soft hair, ruffling it. It annoyed you how he still managed to look good.

Then, once he had done the same for you, you looked him up and down, deciding his outfit was far too…tidy. First it was one button undone, then another (you unbuttoned a third for personal reasons). A blush rose on the tips of his ears.

He went to open the door when you realised something was still missing and, in a quick moment of panic, you rushed forward and grabbed his face, kissing him harshly on the lips (you were purposely trying to smudge your lipstick onto him). Sam made a noise in shock but found himself leaning into it, eyes lingering closed for a moment longer after you had pulled away.

Shit. He thought. He definitely liked you.

Eventually, the door was opened and Sam met the two women with an awkward smile. “Oh!’ Margaret began, giggling, “I was going to offer a drink, but I see you’re occupied…” The woman looked at one another, laughed again and walked away, leaving Sam blushing with embarrassment. The door was closed once more and when you were both sure they had walked away, laughter spilt into the room.

He shook his head and smiled, stepping closer to you. “Close one.” You smiled gently, staring into his eyes (the light was hitting them perfectly). There was silence again - neither of you knew what to do.

”Are we ever going to talk about last night?” You asked, thinking about how his hands felt on your skin. His features turned more serious as he sat down on the bed.

He stared at you, lipstick still in a smudge on his face. “I’m not sure what to say about it.” You neared him, hands trailing over his shoulders. Then, slowly, you leaned into him, lifting his chin with your finger as you felt his soft lips against yours. There was something impossibly gentle about it and you weren’t sure anyone had kissed you that softly before.

”Maybe we don’t need to say anything.”

He smiled. You kissed the corner of his grin and headed back downstairs, attempting to fix your hair as you went. You were met with stares as you entered the kitchen - Miriam had most definitely told everyone… at least it sold the cover.

Time passed with an almost excruciating level of slowness and Sam not making a re-entrance back downstairs wasn’t helping either (you had no one to distract you). Eventually, the party cleared out yet Sam was nowhere to be seen - now you began to panic.

You said goodbye to the final few neighbours and headed back upstairs, calling Sam’s name. The lack of response worried you. The first door by the stairs - the one that unfortunately led to your weapons room - was ajar, scratches around the lock. You pulled the dagger from your waistband and slowly opened the door, sighing as you saw the bloodstain on the floor. You had a feeling you knew who had taken him and where he had gone.

⋘ 𝑙𝑜𝑎𝑑𝑖ng 𝑑𝑎𝑡𝑎... ⋙

You had managed to track him to Helen’s house, hiding around the back to get a good view through the sliding glass doors. Sat, tied to a chair in the middle of the main room, was Sam. His face was bruised and bloody and his expression looked annoyed, chest heaving with sharp breaths. Helen, Miriam and Margaret circled around him, playing with his hair and gathering items they needed for the spell.

”Poor Sam,” Helen began - you assumed she was the leader, “you’d think you’d be able to fight back against three 57 year olds.” Miriam headed into the kitchen as Margaret laughed, they almost reminded you of the witches from Macbeth.

”You’d also think, considering she’s a hunter, that your ‘wife’ would be better at hiding.” Suddenly, a surprisingly strong pair of hands grabbed you, pushing you against the wall.

You struggled against the grip but it was no use, your hands being painfully tied behind your back. Miriam ushered you into the living room, retiring you to a chair beside Sam. You met his eyes with an apologetic gaze and he returned it.

It was your turn to feel the bunt of the witches’ fun now, knives sliced at your skin and hair was cut from your head, you knew they’d done it somewhere visible on purpose. They grabbed at your face, nails digging into flesh and smiling as Sam protested.

Eventually, the three left the room and you and Sam began planning. You shuffled your chair toward him, trying to see if he could reach the dagger you always hid in your shoe. His hand brushed over your shin but he couldn’t reach any further.

With one final attempt, Sam tried to lean on the chair to reach, which ended with him toppling both chairs. He landed on top of you, his chest flush against yours. “Sorry.” He spoke, words hoarse from lack of breath.

Luckily for you, the fall had broken the ropes around your ankles and - though it hurt like hell - you manoeuvred your leg just enough to read the blade. Sam's hair tickled against your face and his lips tickled your neck - but that was something you’d have to think about later.

“Nice try you two.” Helen spoke as she waltzed back in. You hid the blade in your sleeve as your chair was fixed once more and while the three were busy working, you managed to slice through the ropes. you waited patiently, watching with a newfound confidence. Luckily for you, Maragaret was the type of witch to intimidate - her favourite tactic being getting as close as she could.

You took the opportunity and thrust the blade forward, stabbing through her throat. She screamed out and you stood up making your way over to the other two to fight. You took a fair few punches, but it was nothing new and soon enough the two others were on the floor too, holding onto the last of their life.

The large salt circle was immediately broken and Sam was freed, you apolising every time you accidentally touched any of his injuries. “That was badass.” Sam complimented and you laughed, leaning your hair back tiredly.

You turned away, starting to destroy the spell further as you spoke, “Ready to finally stop being husband and wife?” You asked and a small smirk rose on his face, hands snaking back over your waist again.

With sudden passion, he spun you back around, his eyes glinting. “Not really.”

With that, Sam lifted you off the ground, hands securely gripping your thighs as he kissed your neck. You had your back pushed against the wall as he moved to kiss your lips, your hands pulling at the back of his hair. He sighed and went to kiss you again when the front door swung open, revealing a disgusted (but slightly relieved) Bobby and a grinning Dean.

”We can explain?” Sam offered, gently lowering you back to the ground. You couldn’t look at one another.

Dean shook his head, smiling like a madman. “I don’t know Sammy, seems pretty obvious to me.” Then, with the same giddy happiness he turned to Bobby, who had since fished a ten dollar bill out of his pocket.

Typical. You and Sam shared an annoyed look as The other two hunters headed back out the door. ‘“C’mon you lovebirds,” Bobby began, “There’s a vamp nest in Chicago.”

[apocalypseornaw]

Love You Better (Pt 2/5)

Dean Winchester x Reader

After a successful Djinn hunt Dean starts to pull away from you but you have no idea why and he won't tell you either

Sam had ended up taking the backseat of the impala so you were curled up in the passenger seat, Dean's jacket over you like a blanket as you pretended to sleep so he would continue singing lightly along with the radio. When Dean wasn't being goofy he had an amazing singing voice even if he rarely showed it.

You'd probably been on the road a few hours when you felt the car slow and Dean reached over to tap your leg "Y/N you wanna quit pretending to sleep and walk in the gas station with me?" You opened one eye and grinned "I wasn't pretending" he shook his head but laughed "Next time? Don't smile when I sing along with your favorite songs" you pushed his jacket off then shrugged "Sing more often for me and I wouldn't have to pretend" he rolled his eyes then raised his voice slightly to say "Sammy! Want anything?"

Sam stirred from his sleep and rubbed his eyes "Bottle of water?" You turned to look back at him and laughed, his hair was a little wild "My brush is in the top of my go bag Sam. Feel free to use it"

-----------

Dean watched you as you looked over the water bottles, talking to yourself about the different prices versus the taste of the water. How the hell could you doing something so damn mundane make his heart flip?

He was so damn in love with you but hadn't said those words yet. He hoped you knew, hoped his actions spoke loud enough but knew he needed to tell you he just didn't know how. You stopped mid rant and glanced over at him, a small smile working its way onto your face "Like what ya see Winchester?"

He let his eyes flick across your body appreciatively before smiling himself "Very much sweetheart" you laughed and motioned to the water on the top shelf "Good, so that means you won't pick on me cause I can't reach the top shelf" he laughed and grabbed two of the bottles you pointed to "There ya go beautiful" you smiled "Thank you"

-----------

Once the three of you got back on the road you felt a small knot in your stomach grow. Dean and Jax had always gotten along before so you shouldn't have nothing to worry about but if the roles were reversed and Lisa was a hunter and you were helping her? It'd be awkward as hell.

You shook the nerves off when Sam drew you into talking about a book you'd both read. It would be fine, right?

Normally when the three of you would be meeting another hunter it would be at some cheap motel but instead you were meeting Jax at his garage.

He'd opened the garage a couple years back in Austin and had a small place nearby. He had managed to find a balance not a lot of hunters had, an actual means of income and a normal house while still hunting.

------------

Dean cut his eyes at you as he pulled into the parking lot of the garage. You'd dozed off a few miles back and him nor Sam had wanted to wake you up but now they didn't have a choice. He glanced back at Sam who shrugged so he leaned over and gently shook your arm "Wake up sleeping beauty we're here"

You slowly opened your eyes at smiled at him "How long was I asleep?" He shrugged "An hour or so" you nodded and ran a hand over your hair to smoothe it down. "Ok then. Let's see what Jax has and then get to work"

He watched as you climbed out the impala and stretched. He wasn't jealous, not at all.

----------

Sam walked in first then Dean held the door open for you and walked in behind you. You glanced around at the office area you were in. There was a small desk that had a desktop computer sitting on it and a few filing cabinets. It was a simple area but decorated just enough to make it have personality. It fit Jax well.

You felt Dean's arm slip around your waist about the time you heard Jax's voice. He walked around the corner with his phone to his ear and smiled when he saw the three of you. He was about Dean's height, dark hair that he'd always kept cut short and blue eyes. From the looks of it he hadn't shaved in a few days because the stubble along his jaw was leaning closer to a beard.

He finished the phone call and nodded towards you "Thanks for coming" you smiled "Of course. So what's the case Barlowe?" He motioned towards the door "Let me flip the sign and close for the day then if you want yall can follow me to my place and i can catch ya up" "Sounds good" Dean spoke from behind you and Jax nodded "Give me five"

------------

Dean stood between you and Sam as the three of you looked over the files Jax had on the case at hand. There was about half a dozen missing in Brushy Creek, a town about twenty miles from Austin and Jax had narrowed down the possible locations to about three warehouses.

"Seems simple enough" You spoke glancing from Dean to Jax. Both of them nodded before saying damn near in unison "Yeah but when is hunting ever simple" you cut your eyes at Sam who raised an eyebrow before saying "Should we get the lamb's blood here or there?" Jax tapped a place on the map "Here, there's a Butcher halfway we can get it from"

The plan was that Sam would go with Jax to clear one warehouse, you'd go with Dean then if both proved to be a bust the four of you would check the last one together.

You reached your left hand out to touch Dean's side as the two of you checked the warehouse. So far it had been empty. A part of you had hoped the first two warehouses would be it, kill the damn thing then grab a motel room and rest then head home come morning.

So far Dean hadn't said anything about Jax. You weren't expecting much but a part of you was wondering why. If roles were reversed.. no you couldn't be distracted.

A noise creaked somewhere in the warehouse and you spun towards it only to see a possum run across the floor. You let out a laugh "A freakin possum"

Dean reached out and pulled you closer to him "I think we caught a bust, there's one office left. We'll check it then call Sam and Jax to see how their end is" you nodded, falling in step with him.

---------------

You and Dean had just got there to meet Sam and Jax at the last warehouse. Good news was having four competent hunters, bad news was the last warehouse was absolutely fucking huge. The damn thing had three floors.

You looked over at Dean before getting out of the car. He smiled "Kiss for luck?" You leaned over and when your lips met you damn near melted against him. He always had that damn ability to make you forget your worries. When you pulled back he smiled "Let's get two rooms instead of one" you shook your head with a laugh "Save people first, take me to bed later"

----------

Somehow the four of you had gotten separated. You were on the same floor with Sam while Dean was one floor up and Jax was on the highest floor. Sam cut his eyes at you "You good?" You nodded "Yeah every woman's dream is to be hunting monsters with her boyfriend and her ex" Sam laughed and started to say something but then you heard Jax holler "DEAN LOOK OUT"

You and Sam looked at each other then took off running. By the time you two made it up to the second floor you were met with Dean down with one Djinn touching his face and Jax soon to follow since the other Djinns hand was going towards his face "HEY UGLY!" You hollered and both Djinn looked at you "Fuck, Sam some help?"

------------

Sam ran to stab the Djinn over Jax so you ran towards Dean. The Djinn spun on you and you flipped your knife up "He's mine asshole" You threw the knife and caught him dead in the throat. When he went down you ran over and snatched it out then slammed it down into his heart.

Once he was dead you slid to Dean's side "Come on baby. Please wake up. WAKE UP!" Jax and Sam ran over and Jax handed you a vial "It's smelling salts. It'll bring him around"

You snapped the small vial and held it under Dean's nose. Once he inhaled his eyes flew open. "What the hell?" You let out a sigh of relief and let your head fall over onto his chest "You're ok. Thank God, you're ok" he touched your head gently "They dead?" Jax chuckled behind you "They're dead man"

Sam had gone with Jax to a local bar after the four of you made sure the vics had been taken to the hospital so that left only you and Dean at the motel. You'd been expecting him to want to finish what he started earlier but so far he'd damn near been avoiding touch.

He hadn't gotten in the shower with you and when he got out the shower himself he was awful quiet. You were sitting cross legged in the center of the bed watching him as he messed around in his duffle.

"Dean, are you ok?" You finally asked and he glanced up but his eyes still had that far away look "Yeah sweetheart. I'm just tired" you patted the bed next to you "Come on then"

---------

Dean wanted to talk to you, wanted to tell you the fucking world he'd been thrown into when that Djinn had poisoned him. All in all it was only about twenty minutes real world but with Djinn the timeline was always skewed. The way you looked at him as he climbed into bed next to you, he couldn't start that conversation. He loved you, he really did but fuck did he deserve you?

When you curled up next to him placing a gentle kiss on his chest he smiled despite himself. He wanted you, wanted a future with you but that damn dream world had confirmed what he'd already known. You made a mistake choosing him.

@marimarvelfan @suckitands33 @sushiumex @janineb86 @nix-rose @ladysparkles78 @globetrotter28 @holdingontil-may @freewastelandstrawberry @jackles010378

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Just A Girl

Sam Winchester x little sister!reader, Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Synopsis: Y/N starts getting into interests other than hunting, but what happens when her brothers find out?

Author's Note: another Supernatural fic? Yup, my hyperfixation knows no bounds. Enjoy!

You were a daddy’s girl through-and-through. No question. Without a doubt.

Not that you had much choice in the matter. Your mother had died before you had even gotten the chance to form good memories of her, and your father, John Winchester, had taken you in as soon as he heard the news. So, that’s how you had grown up, looking up to your father and two big brothers. Needless to say, there was very little feminine influence in your life.

For the first many years, you had been fine with that. Overjoyed, even. You took on the role of tomboy with great ease, and you devoted all your energy to making the men in your life proud. You studied with Sam, trained with Dean, and compiled monster-killing information with John. 

But things didn’t–couldn’t–remain the same. The older you got, the harder you found it to relate to your brothers. Of course, you still enjoyed your training and the occasional hunt–they only allowed you to go on the “safest” ones–but you found yourself pulling away from your family more and more mentally, although you wouldn’t allow your inner-alienation to show to your brothers. You didn’t have to worry about hiding it from your father, since he was barely around. 

When Sam left for college, things only got worse. Dean doubled-down on your training, convinced that now that Sam was gone, you needed to be able to fend for yourself. If he needed backup on a hunt, he couldn’t turn to Sam anymore. You didn’t mind the work, but the long hours of training and the few hours of anything else was beginning to wear on you, both physically and mentally. The older you got, the more you felt like you needed your own space, to explore your own interests. You couldn’t tell that to Dean, though, not after he lost Sam to his own interests. 

Your hesitance about training wasn’t the only thing that was changing for you. You were also beginning to notice how emotionally distant your family was. It hadn’t affected you as much as a little girl, because when you were little, displays of affection from the men who raised you had been more common. But now that you were older, they seemed to think that you had outgrown such things. You could tell that you were being expected to “grow up”, maybe even “man up”, something you most certainly could not do.

But it was more than that. When you were little, all you ever wanted was to be like your family. You wanted to be strong like dad, protective like Dean, and smart like Sam. But you couldn’t do that anymore. You couldn’t look up to them like heroes, because you had long outgrown that notion. Of course, you still looked up to them in some aspects, but it was different now. Dad was always gone, Dean wouldn’t know how to deal with feelings if they danced around blowing trumpets in front of him, and Sam…well, Sam had left. Not that you blamed him, of course, he had his own life that he wanted to live. But it was hard to look up to something that you never saw.

All that to say, this wasn’t exactly an ideal environment for a teenage girl. You were far too reserved to take out your feelings the way the rest of the men did–bottling them up and then letting them out by screaming at each other. You had times when you wanted to, of course–you had been disagreeing with them, especially John, more and more as you got older–but you found yourself more and more afraid of conflict as you matured. Before Sam had left, he and dad had been yelling at each other almost constantly, and it was pure torture on your anxiety. You hated raised voices, you hated hurt feelings, you hated conflict of any kind really. Your brothers and father never backed down from a fight, be it physical or familial, but you couldn’t do that. You found yourself walking on eggshells, making sure not to even say–much less yell–anything that would set off an argument.

You were stuck at a sort of impasse–your desperate desire to please your family versus your personal inclinations to just be yourself. 

The only solution you had was to try and live both worlds; you trained with Dean whenever duty called, but afterwards you would retreat to your room, letting him work on whatever hunt he was preoccupied with, and you explored your own world.

You got into books, some tv shows the men in your life wouldn’t be caught dead watching (and would certainly make fun of you for watching), you tried out makeup and let your hair grow longer (you had always cut it short to keep it out of the way during training or hunting). You found that the more “feminine” things that you would’ve scoffed at a few years ago were suddenly looking much more interesting. You used one of those scammed credit cards Dean gave you to buy some ballet shoes, which you hid in your duffel under all your other belongings unless Dean and dad were on a hunt, at which time you would pull them out and teach yourself using some books you’d found. 

It took you a long time to get over your embarrassment at wanting to try “girly” things out, but once you did you never looked back. You still played the part that dad and Dean expected, the young tomboy following in the men’s footsteps, but when you were alone, you didn’t see any harm in trying out some hobbies that felt more like you.

Like right now, for example. Dad was missing, Sam was finally back, and he and Dean were off hunting some monster. You enjoyed your isolation by first finishing off a tv show that they would’ve hated, then by reading some more of a new book you had gotten that they would’ve scoffed at. After that, it was time to pull out the ballet shoes and practice that new move that you couldn’t quite perfect. 

You were so concentrated on figuring out the move, that you hadn’t noticed that you’d been practicing for hours, or that it was getting dark outside. You were also so intent on the music that you’d downloaded to go along with your dancing, that you didn’t hear the Impala pull up to the front of the motel room. In fact, you were so engrossed, that you completed the entire move–perfect for the first time!--and you were jumping around in excitement when you finally saw them. Your brothers. Standing at the door, mouths dropped open in shock, confusion contorting their features.

You froze on the spot, unable to move. You tried to speak, but no words would make it past your dry throat. You snatched up your phone and quickly killed the music, but there was no covering up the shoes you were wearing, and certainly no erasing the boys’ memory of what they’d seen. 

The three of you stood in silence for several moments, before Sam finally got the words–or perhaps the guts–to speak.

“What was that?”

You answer was immediate.

“Nothing.”

“What are those?” Dean was staring down at your pastel-pink ballet shoes, his mouth still hanging open–which would have been comical if your heart wasn’t pounding in your ears.

“Nothing, just-” your lip started to quiver, and you were so shocked and appalled by this that you bit it so hard, blood started to dribble down your chin. Winchesters did not cry. “Just forget about it.”

“Jeez, Y/N,” Sam exclaimed, snatching up a towel and wiping the blood off of your mouth. As soon as he was done, you pulled away and sat on your bed, removing your ballet shoes as quickly as possible and depositing them back in their spot–the bottom of your duffel. 

There was silence again for several seconds, but this time it was Dean who broke it.

“So…we’re not gonna talk about that?”

“Talk about what?” you muttered, your eyes downcast as you shifted on your feet.

Both brothers scoffed in unison.

“C’mon Y/N,” Sam insisted, putting his giant hand on your shoulder, “why didn’t you tell us you were into ballet?”

“And pretty darn good at it too,” Dean chimed in, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. 

You stared at them, confused.

“You’re not…mad?”

“Mad?” Dean frowned, “I don’t know why you think we’re mad, I’m just confused. I mean you never seemed into…this kinda thing.”

“I…wasn’t,” you picked at your fingers, trying to find ways to ease the awkwardness of the conversation. “But lately…I don’t know, I just wanted to try it out.”

“Dancing?”

“Not just ballet, I guess. Just…girl stuff,” you looked up, trying to gauge your brothers’ reactions. 

Sam just shrugged, “Ok.”

You were shocked.

“Ok? Just, ok?”

Dean smirked, “You may be a bit of a tomboy, but we haven’t forgotten that you’re a girl, baby.”

"Yeah, but," you sighed, "you don't think this stuff is stupid?"

"Well, you're not exactly gonna find me in those shoes," Dean shrugged, "But you do you, kid."

A relieved smile broke out on your face.

“You’re seriously ok with this?” Dean laughed, “Tell you what. I’ll be one hundred percent ok with this, on three conditions.

Both you and Sam frowned.

“What are they?” you questioned.

“Ok, one: never ask me to watch a chick flick with you.”

You giggled, relieved, “Ok.”

“Two: never play Taylor Swift in Baby. Never. I don’t care if I'm dead, that does not happen, understand?”

You giggled harder, “Ok, ok.”

Dean was frowning now, “Hey now, no giggling, I’m serious!” he snatched you up and threw you onto his bed, leaning over you and poking your sides, “This is a very serious conversation N/N, and I-” Dean dodged your desperate attempt to kick him away, smirking as you squealed under his ticklish assault. “Hey, that wasn’t nice. I can’t have this serious conversation with you giggling like that!” He poked at your ribs, laughing as you struggled.

“Wha-hat’s number three-hee?” you squealed, still trying and failing to get away from him.

“Oh yeah!” Dean suddenly pulled his hands away, once again regaining his serious composure. “I want front row tickets when you’re on Dancing with the Stars.”

You rolled your eyes and smacked his arm, “Dean, it’s just a hobby, I’m not gonna get famous for it.” “Hey now, you don’t know that, anything is possible. Now do we have a deal or not?”

You giggled, sitting up and wrapping your arms around your big brother.

“Deal.”