#🥃.dean

[cold--carnage]

saying this very clearly on main because I've fucking had it today. proship/comship d n fucking i. same goes for paras involving incest or ageplay. we're a fictive heavy system and these things are triggering, especially when the problematic ships involve us ourselves (eg. wincest. which if any of you are into I'll personally beat your face to a pulp). it was in the dni but I'm pissed so I'm saying it again. this is me setting a boundary for us and I'm gonna be hardcore enforcing it

[artificialvoyage]

( @thecambriastarters​ ) 🥃 DEAN WINCHESTER & ANYONE !

🥃 ( location ) the pond, the gardens, the cambria one

🥃 - he stared at the frozen over pond with some trepidation as he wondered how quickly he’d bust his ass the moment he got on that ice - and if he was too old to do it. still, this was one of the first holidays he’d had where he was in one place and he didn’t have to hunt down some pagan human-eating monster. it’s the little things. feeling someone approach, dean grinned as he held out a hand, “just a fair warning, i can and will fall on my face and if anyone laughs i’m taking you down with me!” he half-joked as he still stood there staring at the pond like it was his mortal enemy. “or maybe i can just start building snowmen? yeah, snowmen - more my speed, who’s with me?”

[yetanotheralternatereality]

Guess I should make a pinned post, huh?

This is my Winchester kin blog, and I have two spn kins: Alder Winchester (noncanon, son of a much younger Dean and Cassie), and Dean Winchester (relatively canon compliant in the grand scheme of things).

Currently I'm 21, and if you want to chat I'm plenty comfortable with doubles, fictives, etc! I'm personally a spiritual kin, but psychological kins are also more than welcome, too.

Posts within a certain kinshift will be simply tagged #alder posting , and #dean posting cause. Well, honestly, I'm just keeping it as simple as possible, lol. I (Dean) don't have any tags I sign off with, but Alders tag is #🗺️🥃

[acecroft]

Dean Winchester in SUPERNATURAL 7.09 🥃

[cold--carnage]

okay that makes a whole lot of sense actually. because I'm a character who first of all, Seb looks up to a lot, but I'm also very much the hero archetype. I literally kill monsters. I save the world. Connor's existence also makes a lot of sense based on our past, as well as Zach and Mercy who are angels. Seb himself actually kinda denounced his own humanity, I'm assuming for the same reasons. and then yeah Karma is a cyborg, and Jules and Klaus are both human characters with supernatural or otherworldly aspects that Seb has a lot of trauma in common with, and they're also both closely related to death, which has been something that's been a major theme since Seb was really little.

thanks, this was super helpful. I love learning this stuff and this was a question I had been mulling over for a few weeks.

actually just thought of one: is there a reason why a system (like ours) would be introject/fictive heavy? it strikes me as odd that we seem to split a lot of fictives

- Dean

well typical if you have an introject it is because the brain heavily relates to the source of the introject or because the introject represents/brings/ has something the brain thinks it needs. introject can also form as a way of coping with things!

for example: let’s say you split a fictive of a superhero! a possible reason is because the brain goes “oh if i was this superhero i’d be unstoppable!! no one could hurt me and i could help others.”

another example: let’s say… you split a nonhuman alter who’s a fictive (kinda like Connor) perhaps you’ve experienced a lot of dehumanization and so having someone to deal with that dehumanization as someone who is not human,, is helpful. (i hope i worded that okay)

for the previous you could take me for an example. i was never treated as a human, i was used a lot and i was told my soul purpose was to help others. we also experienced some religious and ramcoa trauma; what is common in religion and is seen as an inhuman being that helps others? an angel! of course there someone other stuff but u get the gist (i hope! ^^)

btw if you’d like me to explain factives more i can but overall it’s the same idea ^^

[chevroletdean]

you always meet twice ── ✮⋆˙🥃📞

pairing: dean x gn!reader genre: fluff, dash of angst if you squint to note/warnings: set around season 10, mentions of the mark of cain, dean being a grumpy old man, cute first meetings, miscommunication word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is random, i just wanted to write more fluff, since you guys were so nice about the last one. thank you again, i didn't expect so much positive feedback!

He swore that that giggle of yours could soften a demon’s black heart. He should know, having been one himself not too long ago.

You flashed him one last mesmerizing smile and slid something across the counter before you turned around and left the bar. His eyes lingered on you until you were through the door and out of sight. Only then did he dare to glance down towards your little goodbye gift, which he swiftly grabbed and carried back to Sam’s booth.

“Seriously?” Sam scoffed, the crooked grin on his lips reflecting a mixture of disbelief and belittling. “What is this, the 2000s?”

None of that seemed to bother his older brother, who was all toothy, boyish grin and lit up eyes as he proudly flaunted the napkin in front of Sam’s nose. Numbers were scribbled on it in black ink, clearly a phone number.

Was it a little old-fashioned? Maybe, but didn’t that make it all the more charming? Dean certainly seemed to think so and even though it must’ve been about 10 years or so ago since he last had anyone write their number down for him like this, he thought he deserved a sliver of joy.

“They even wrote ‘xoxo’ next to it, dude,” Dean boasted. “What’s that mean again, love and hearts or whatever?”

“Hugs and kisses, Dean. It means hugs and kisses,” Sam corrected him with a sigh. His brother was a lost cause.

The little symbols were about as cheesy as the act of the whole number on a napkin thing and Dean was eating it up with a giddiness that could only be matched by a lovesick teenager. You’d think after about two decades of acting like a flirtatious heartthrob, he’d either mature or be harder to impress.

“Either way,” Dean beamed proudly, “I’m still in the game.”

Sam’s eyebrows shot up, but he refrained from any witty remarks and settled for a snort instead. It’s been a while since he’s seen Dean’s lips curled upwards – after a couple of rough weeks and many setbacks, it was good to see him smile again.

He’s been to hell and back, literally and figuratively, and after all the worrying about the Mark of Cain, recovering from being a literal demon, and the usual apocalyptic sense of dread, who was Sam to deny him his fun?

Turns out he’d have his little moment ruined hours later anyway, and not even by Sam or any of his teasing comments.

He must’ve slept horribly or maybe the lack of leads in this case was starting to frustrate him.

It was unclear what exactly caused the switch to flip, but the grin from last evening that had reached from one ear to another was nowhere to be seen anymore. Ever since they left the motel and drove into town, he was back to his grumpy self.

Sam nearly flinched as Dean slammed the door of the Impala shut a little harsher than necessary. Dean’s brows were furrowed in frustration as he practically stomped into the diner. His little brother followed suit, barely making it through the door while it was still open. They took a seat and ordered some breakfast.

Despite knowing he wouldn’t get an explanation, Sam tried anyway.

“What’s up with you today?”

Dean shot him a glare that not only signaled he’d refuse to answer, but could also suffice for straight up daggers. He took a demonstratively large gulp of his coffee. “Can we just focus on the case, Sammy?”

Focus on the case was rarely what Dean wanted to do, not when he had a potential fling going on anyway. Which could only mean one thing.

“No luck with your napkin sweetheart?” Sam teased, seemingly hitting a sore spot as Dean slammed the coffee cup back onto the table with a clatter.

“The case, Sam,” he repeated insistently.

Right on the money then. What else would rile him up into such an irritable mood?

Giving in — albeit he did a terrible job at concealing a gloating grin —, Sam booted up his laptop and went through the files. It was all pretty straightforward: Bunch of people went missing over the past few days, one of their bodies having turned up with their blood drained. Vampires, likely, though Sam and Dean had yet to find the nest or talk to anyone in relation to the victims.

“There’s this one college student that went missing two days ago, usually never misses a class or a shift at their part-time-job,” Sam spoke and turned the laptop around for Dean to look at the missing person alert. “We could split up, talk to one of their professors and a coworker.”

“Fabulous,” Dean grumbled, using his fork to stab holes into his slice of pie. His mind was clearly elsewhere. Presumably on a certain someone he had met last night – and was stood up by, apparently.

“Seriously, what happened?” Sam half-groaned, half-grinned. There was some genuine concern in his voice. Even if the situation was kind of amusing – it didn’t happen often that someone was able to humble Dean like this –, he knew his brother was on edge already.

Anger and bottling up feelings were always his specialty, but with the Mark of Cain still attached to his arm, they should probably not risk any major stress.

Dean grumbled something inaudible, half of his words swallowed by the coffee cup, the rim of which was pressed against his lips. Sam only thought he heard something along the lines of ‘wrong number’ and gave a confused “What was that?” in response.

“Whatever,” Dean groaned. “Any contacts, an address?”

Sam nodded and told him the address of the coworker. With Dean’s shitty mood, he’d rather not bring him to campus to scare away any freshmen. So, they separated for the time being, Sam heading to the university while Dean made his way to that address downtown.

On his way there, he fished for his phone again. And the napkin.

He had tried to dial the number earlier this morning and (much to his obvious dismay) the call had not gone through. He typed it in again, number for number, double-checking each digit individually. Maybe he had somehow gotten it mixed up in his half sleepy state earlier?

‘The number you have called is not available. Please check the number and dial again. The number you have called is n–’

Dean definitely didn’t get it wrong, comparing the number on his screen and the napkin again.

With a scoff, he shoved his phone back into his pocket, exchanging it for his F.B.I. badge instead. Grumbling to himself, his feet dragged him past a picket fence – each step heavy-footed – and up a porch, where he rang the doorbell.

As for why you’d trick him like that by giving him a wrong number, was beyond him. You could’ve just said no when he asked for your contacts, so why go through the hassle to be this mean about a rejection?

Unless he somehow had made you uncomfortable last night, although he could not for the love of it remember anything but your bright smile throughout the whole conversation. In fact, you had eagerly nodded when he offered to buy you another drink.

The soft creaking of the door disrupted his thoughts. By default habit, he already held up his badge, deciding to focus on the task at hand. Sam would be giving him a handful if he got too distracted during a case.

“Special Agent Murray, could I–?”

His introduction died on his tongue as his gaze fell upon a dazzling and oddly familiar smile. A heartbeat later and said smile vanished from those lips, which then twisted into a surprised O-shape.

“I don’t remember writing my address down,” you chuckled. Nervously. But not the kind of nervousness he would’ve expected from someone who had practically dumped him in the shittiest way possible.

The quip itself was somehow unfitting, considering those circumstances.

Who knew the coworker of the victim would be you, of all people, in a rather big town like this?

“Special Agent, huh?” Your smile was back on your lips, the intrigued spark in your eyes resembling that of last evening, and confusing him only further. “Am I in trouble, did I commit a crime?”

If handing out false numbers was a crime—

Dean cleared his throat and averted his gaze. He briefly fidgeted around with his badge, struggling to put it away again. Maybe that extra cup of coffee at the diner earlier was a mistake. As if it wasn’t already awkward enough. He wasn’t keen on making a fool out of himself further, so he decided to get this job over with as quickly as possible.

“I have a few questions about Daniel Anderson,” he said, tone dry as bone and honestly, rather hostile. “I take it you are his coworker?”

You blinked up at him, your smile fading once more. It was almost as if you were half-intimidated by his grumpy demeanor, but did you really expect a warm reunion?

“Uhm, yeah,” you mumbled, almost meekly, and opened the door further, stepping aside to make room for him. “Come on in, please. Would you like some coffee?”

Dean was led to the living room, where you gestured towards the seating options – a small couch and an armchair. Even though he just had about a gallon of it, he accepted your offer and settled on the couch.

While you were busy in the kitchen, he glanced around the room. A small but cozy living space and a pair of shoes kicked into the corner of the entrance that he definitely recognized. So you weren’t some lost twin of last night’s encounter.

“Excuse the mess,” you chuckled shyly, again with a warmth that exceeded his expectations. “I mean, you know how it is, I got home pretty late last night and have not had the chance to clean up yet.”

How come you were able to brush off this palpable tension with such ease? He was practically dying on the inside here while you, without hesitation, sat down next to him instead of the armchair and handed him the cup of coffee.

Dean once again cleared his throat, taking a sip of your coffee – as if somehow the caffeine could counteract his nerves instead of fray them further.

“About Mr. Anderson,” he began, clearly not wanting to dive into the topic of last night. If he didn’t know it any better, he swore he could see a flicker of disappointment in your eyes.

Your answers to his questions matched what Sam already found out. Your coworker was last seen coming to work three days ago, punctual as always, then wasn’t seen again. Apparently he had been the last to leave the office, which wasn’t unusual, since he’d often work overtime. A diligent guy, from the sounds of it, despite working only minimum wage and managing his studies at the same time.

“I thought I haven’t seen you around town before,” you hummed, eyeing him up and down briefly in a way that made him feel naked despite his suit. “No wonder, if you’re a federal agent working a case here. I gotta say, you can pull off a tie just as much as the flannel.”

That caught Dean off guard for several reasons. One being the fact that you were even more assertive when sober, apparently. The more obvious one, however, remained your previous rejection of course. He could not wrap his head around the concept of you flirting with him now.

You in no way looked anything remotely guilt ridden or embarrassed. If anything, your responses to his gruff attitude were mellow in fashion. And you still subtly brushed your knee against his despite everything. Were you messing with him?

“I’ve been meaning to ask,” you mumbled, hesitant for the first time today. “You can show up at my doorstep, but you can’t give me a call?”

Huh?

His widened eyes and the deadpan silence in the room seemed to go straight over your head.

“Well, I guess you’re busy with work,” you sighed with a crooked grin on your lips. “You should’ve told me, giving a special agent your number is kind of embarrassing.”

That was your problem, his line of work? Well, in that regard, he couldn’t be too hypocritical. He was as much of a special agent as your number was real, after all. Still, he was done with your games.

“I did give you a call,” Dean huffed. “Or tried to anyway, but you already figured that, I bet.”

Now it was your time to look all puzzled, at least until Dean pulled out phone and pocket. He dialed your number and put his phone on speaker. If in some twisted joke the third time would be the charm now, he’d feel really stupid.

But as expected, the error announcement came through the speaker once more: ‘The number you have called is not available. Please check the number and dial again.’

The color drained from your face first, before a redness crept up your neck. Your gaze flickered back and forth between Dean’s phone and his glare.

Then you burst out into laughter. Your cheeks were flushed in a bright pink while you hastily scrambled to find your own phone.

“You think this is funny, sweetheart?” Dean sighed, damn near pouting.

You didn’t reply, just snatched the napkin out of his hands. Your fingers were warm against his, since you had them wrapped around your own coffee mug moments earlier.

“Double-awkward, I gave a special agent the wrong number, oops,” you giggled and facepalmed.

Oops?

Dean was about to retort something, clearly unappreciative of the way you were still trying to make up excuses.

But you remained unfazed. More than unfazed: You reached out to his lapel, those warm fingers of yours wrapping around the pen in his chest pocket. All he could do was stay frozen in place as you crossed out the last two digits on the napkin and rewrote them above – in reverse order.

“You switched them up,” he mumbled, more of a realization than a question.

“I get clumsy when I’m nervous,” you smiled softly, rubbing the back of your neck and nodding apologetically.

You did not fail to notice how Dean’s eyes lit up again. That scowl, the harsh line on his forehead, they melted away. Some of that boyish, cheeky grin replaced his gruff facade.

“Nervous,” he echoed and his smug smirk confirmed his returned confidence. He had made you nervous last evening, huh?

“What did you think I needed that second whiskey sour for,” you giggled with that gentle edge that turned his heart into mush.

He knew right away that he wanted to see you like this more often, flustered, because of him no less. Enough to give you trouble thinking straight.

“How about you run a test-call, just to make sure I didn’t mix it up again,” you suggested.

It took him a solid three or so seconds to process your words and then he flinched, fumbling around with his inner pockets in too obvious of a desperation. Once again, he cleared his throat, realizing this must’ve been the dozenth time or so you got him this flustered. You really knew how to keep someone on their toes, whether it was on purpose or not, huh?

Dean dialed the updated number and surely enough, the buzzing vibration of your phone eased his anxiety once and for all.

“And here I was, thinking you were trying to mess with me,” he laughed breathlessly, to which your smile softened into a pout. Clearly you weren’t fond of the idea of upsetting him in this manner.

At least for a split second, before it widened into a mischievous smirk.

“I don’t know if that would go against the law,” you hummed teasingly, “But I’m an upstanding citizen and if you were to arrest me, I’d hope it would be under different circumstances.”

With that and a wink, you took the empty cups from the coffee table and made your way to the kitchen again. Like last night, Dean was left letting his gaze follow you until you weren’t to be seen anymore. As he snapped out of it, he stood up and headed towards the entrance.

“Call me if you hear anything from Daniel,” you smiled at him as you hurried to open the door for him. “Or, you know, in general.”

Dean chuckled briefly, the first time he’s laughed properly today, and gave you a nod. On his way out, he practically skipped his steps down the porch, to which you couldn’t help but grin.

By the time Dean met up with Sam again, he was humming happily to himself. Sam raised an eyebrow at his sunshine-giddy brother, scanning him up and down.

“What happened to you?”

“I’m still in the game, Sammy.”

links/credits: ao3 ──〃★ dividers ──〃★ request here taglist: comment with a green heart 💚if you want to be added to the dean x reader taglist from now on

[waynes-multiverse]

Love On The Brain

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: Dean and Y/N – hunting partners, bunker roommates & idiots in love. Sam is fed up with their constant “will they/won’t they” bullshit and decides to move things along with his own plan until these two fated lovers’ paths finally cross one night – naked.

Warnings: +18, smut (mentions of masturbation f & m, oral f, fingering, p in v), crack of the adorkable kind, nudity, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff

Word Count: 6.1k

A/N: Happy V-Day, babes! 💖 The V stands for... Welp, you know me well enough by now to know where I’m going with this 😝 This is a lot of moronic crack mixed with some sweet smut and fluff. We all know how much I love the “idiots in love” trope, and I fully dove into this one. So, grab your glass of favorite liquor & let’s settle in, shall we? ❤️😘 Written for a request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms after making some adjustments. Found Rihanna’s Love on the Brain fitting for this one, so that’s what we went with as a general mood. Hope you enjoy, m’ladies! 🖤

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Freedom! Thank fucking God…

Y/N exhales a blissful sigh as she saunters to the Dean Cave with a bag of still-hot microwave popcorn in her arms. The Winchester brothers have decided on a little overnight road trip to the next, bigger town over to see a movie – and for some brotherly bonding or whatever – which means Y/N can finally enjoy some goddamn alone time in the bunker. Not that she doesn’t love Sam and Dean to bits and pieces, especially the latter one. They are like family to her, the only one she’s ever truly known, but even family can grow exhausting sometimes.

Living with two boys can grow exhausting, honestly, so Y/N has decided to spend her alone time doing a bunch of girly shit she can’t do with Tweedledee and Tweedledum around – at least not without enduring some judgmental looks.

So, first on the agenda? Watching a bunch of chick flicks, aka any movie the oldest Winchester wouldn’t approve of. Mean Girls, Clueless, 10 Things I Hate About You, You’ve Got Mail, and so on – you get the gist.

The second order of business is a long-ass bathroom time for a little much-needed self-care, including a hot and relaxing bath with an abundance of pink bubbles and soap that smells like the goddamn Queen’s flower garden. Then she’s going to shave and wax… everything. Admittedly, things got a little hairy in recent weeks. There wasn’t a lot of time between hunts and sharing close quarters with two men in motel rooms, and every time she did attempt a proper shave, Dean would yell outside the bathroom door, needing to pee or God knows what else, so she dropped the razor again. Honestly, it’s not like she’s being followed around by an array of suitors these days. It’s been months since anyone has seen her private parts or even her bare legs, including her. On the upside, at least her vibrator doesn’t mind the extra locks.

Oh God, she’s fucking sad, isn’t she? Yeah… It’s a sad affair all around, really.

Regardless, the mention of some self-love reminds her of her third to-do item on her list: sex. Well, technically masturbating to Ryan Gosling’s pictures. Maybe even Andrew Garfield, Sebastian Stan, that hot dude Jackson from Grey’s Anatomy… Leo in his prime. Brad Pitt – young and old. Seth Rogen… Whoa! Don’t judge, okay? It’s not all about looks. She loves when a guy can make her laugh, and his laugh is so sweet, deep, and… bear-y, alright?

Yeah, fine, she knows she needs to get fucked properly by a real dick instead of a fictional one – rather sooner than later before she goes for… the dick that’s been living right under the same roof, only three doors down from her own bedroom.

Shit.

Yep, Dean fucking Winchester – God of all Gods, monster hunter extraordinaire, hero of all innocent damsels, and idiotic clown of all clowns, shamelessly stole her heart since… well, pretty much the minute they met and she first laid eyes on him. It felt like being blinded by the sun, the golden freckles on his cheeks and nose resembling the twinkling, starry constellations in the night sky. In an instant, she was an unsuspecting, innocent moth to a blazing flame. How could she possibly resist that irresistible, boyish charm? There’s no vaccine against that green-eyed virus. She swears she’s seen women faint and gasp before him, and she certainly isn’t immune, either. No one truly is, not even other men, for crying out loud.

Unfortunately, Dean will never ever look at her in that way and see more than a friend in her. The thought alone is so ridiculous it makes her snort before she starts to uncontrollably sob and whine. But God, does she wish more than anything he could be hers and she could be his.

Admittedly, she feels a little lonely, especially with the ominous Valentine’s Day looming around the corner, or as Dean likes to call it – unattached drifter Christmas.

Dear fucking God, why did she have to fall in love with that dork? Why can’t it be some nice, normal guy without an abundance of commitment issues?

On the other hand, it’s a good thing the oldest Winchester isn’t here tonight, even though he’d probably love the fourth part of her evening: naturism.

Yup, walking around naked while you’re alone is the best fucking thing in the world and so goddamn freeing. Tits out. Let the ladies breathe a little, you know? Having the girls constantly locked up in bra prison is no way to go through life. And Y/N knows for sure Dean would not only agree with that sentiment but also highly support it. After all, he was the one that suggested Naked Tuesdays when she first moved in. Sam then established a rule that the oldest Winchester wasn’t allowed to “sexually harass” her. It was completely unnecessary but sweet nonetheless. Y/N knows Dean’s just a teasing goofball 99% of the time and would never seriously harm her or make her feel uncomfortable. In fact, she loves that the brothers are always looking out for her and have her best interest in mind.

So, as soon as she hears the big metal door of the bunker slam shut, Y/N excitedly begins her girl’s night alone, trying not to think too much about the green-eyed hunter and focusing on Gosling on the silver screen instead.

“So, this movie… is it like Zombieland?” Dean inquires with a wide grin, wiggling his eyebrows as he grabs a couple of beers and snacks from the fridge for their road trip to Wichita.

Sam’s brow furrows in confusion. “What? Dean, no… It’s not an action movie or a comedy. It’s an environmental documentary about how soil can counteract the climate crisis,” the younger Winchester explains, chuckling in amusement.

Dean’s face drops, his features morphing from excitement to shock as his eyes blink in rapid succession. “What?! But you said Woody Harrelson is in it! You lied to me!”

“Nooo,” Sam laughs, shaking his head, and corrects, “I said Woody Harrelson narrates it. It’s a good documentary. Trust me.”

“Fuck no! I don’t wanna watch a movie about dirt,” the older brother whines, his plump lips shaping into a pout. “Can’t we go see something with action and blood and guns? You know, something fun?”

“Dean, our whole life is action, blood, and guns. Would do you some good to care about the Earth and climate every once in a while,” Sam lectures him.

“Screw that! We’ve already saved the planet multiple times. All that Al Gore shit ain’t my problem,” Dean huffs, pops open a beer and takes a sip. “‘Sides, I don’t trust these environmental clowns. I know the first thing they’d wanna do is get rid of Baby, and then I swear I’m gonna start shootin’. I can’t stand for that insanity.”

“Fine,” Sam frowns and lets out a resigned sigh. “Then I guess you’ll have to stay here because I wanna watch that movie.”

“Fine by me,” Dean agrees with another sip of beer.

“Good. Since you’re not coming, I might even check out the Mid-America Fine Arts Museum,” Sam shares, the excitement gleaming in his hazel orbs.

“Yeah, nerd yourself out, little brother,” Dean snorts. “Did you know Wichita has a Pizza Hut Museum?”

“Uh-huh, yeah, you tell me that every time we go to Wichita, Dean,” Sam reminds him and suppresses the laugh. “Well, uh, have fun alone with Y/N then,” he smirks slyly, and Dean’s short-lived relief disappears as realization dawns, his brow knitting. “Who knows? Might even be a good opportunity for you to tell her you’re madly in love with her.”

“Wha-, uh, pffft, no?” Dean brushes his little brother’s lunatic accusations off the kitchen counter and awkwardly scratches the back of his neck, clearing the fluster in his throat. “Dude, are you drunk? I’m so not in love with her, alright? Don’t be ridiculous, okay? Do I find her incredibly hot, smart, sweet, brave, kind, adorable, and funny? Sure… That’s why she’s our friend, right? But that doesn’t mean I like… love “love” her, okay? At least not like that.” He forms sarcastic air quotes around the cursed word and grimly swallows his uncomfortableness and the lies down with a big gulp of beer. “And for crying out loud, keep your voice down when you say shit like that. I don’t want her to hear us,” he hisses, his green orbs nervously eyeing the kitchen door. “It’s echo-y in here, you know?”

“Sure, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam casually shrugs his shoulders, clearly not buying a single one of the green-eyed hunter’s words, and it only annoys the older Winchester more.

“Don’t-… Nuh-uh, don’t gimme that fake ‘whatever you say’ bullshit shtick. There’s really nothing going on, alright?” Dean assures anew, growing more irritated by the minute.

Sam twitches his shoulders once more and then cockily folds his arms over his chest, a teasing smile twitching at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, so you won’t mind if I set her up with Matt, right? It’s just-… She seems a little lonely lately.”

“Lonely?” Dean arches an eyebrow in apprehension and scoffs, “She’s fine, Sam. She’s got us.”

Sam frowns for what feels like the hundredth time during this conversation. “Dean, you honestly don’t think that’s enough for her.”

“Why not?” The older Winchester shrugs, refusing to see clearly. “It’s enough for me. Our life is awesome. You don’t see me complaining.”

“Yes, you’re obviously the golden standard for healthy relationships,” Sam mutters sarcastically and rolls his eyes back.

Dean purses and smacks his plump lips, scratching the bit of scruff on his throat. “Well, uh… shut up, okay? And don’t set her up with Matt. The guy’s a douche.”

“Alright, what about Josh? You like Josh,” Sam suggests next.

“Yeah, as a hunting partner, he’s alright, not as a boy toy for our friend, Sam,” Dean grits bitterly and rolls his eyes, chugging the rest of his beer. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? You’re not her pimp. Just leave her alone, alright?”  

“Look, if you don’t wanna date her – fine. That’s on you. Just don’t stand in the way of her happiness because you can’t stop self-sabotaging yourself, man,” Sam argues with a judgmentally raised brow.

“That’s not what I’m doing,” Dean grumbles, the offense clearly written in every deep wrinkle on his face.

“Uh-huh, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam deadpans and grabs his laptop bag, making his way out of the kitchen.

“Stop saying that!”

“Look, I’d love to discuss all your weird issues in detail with you, but I still have to pick up Eileen on my way to Wichita,” Sam notes nonchalantly as Dean trails behind him through the bunker’s corridors. “I’ve watched you two beat around the bush for years. It’s getting annoying. You guys are worse than Ross and Rachel.”

“Wait, Eileen? Did you plan all of this on purpose? Were you trying to trick me?” Dean’s voice rises with his exasperation. He hates when Sam puts his nose where it doesn’t belong, mainly in his business. It’s the typical little brother shit he had to deal with all his life. Siblings, man…

“Me? No, I would never,” his younger brother replies with feigned innocence, marching up the metal stairs to the exit, but Dean can hear the goddamn deceit in his words.

“I don’t believe you,” Dean grits with a sternly creased brow, narrowing his juniper eyes at his younger brother as he halts at the bottom of the steps.

“Okay, whatever you say, Dean,” Sam grins complacently and opens the door. “Just don’t be an idiot. Make the first move, alright? That’s all you need to do. Trust me. It’s gonna be fine. She likes you, too.”

With that, the youngest Winchester closes the door behind him, leaving Dean to ruminate in his convoluted misery.

The hunter then stomps through the hallways of the bunker, furiously mumbling to himself as he passes the Dean Cave on his way to his room. Hearing sounds coming from inside, he stops by the cracked door for a moment and realizes Y/N is watching a movie in there. He considers joining her before recognizing Gosling’s voice, a deep sigh leaving his lips. Of course, she’s watching chick flicks again, so he decides against his plan, knowing some silly rom-com could potentially be a slippery slope and lead to some dangerous innuendos.

He downright refuses to play into his little brother’s evil scheme. Sam’s not goddamn Lindsay Lohan, and this isn’t the fucking Parent Trap. It’s better and safer if Dean stays far away from Y/N for the entirety of Sam’s absence, so the hunter quietly retreats to his room.

Dean decided to watch a bunch of his favorite horror movies until late into the night, ignoring the boiling feelings under the surface. He then closes his laptop with a heavy sigh, ready to call it a night after a nice, warm shower.

With headphones on and some classic rock music drowning out his hammering thoughts, he takes off his clothes and wraps a towel around himself. During an earlier snack run to the kitchen, he noticed the Dean Cave had already been deserted, the room quiet and dark. Y/N luckily has withdrawn to her own room again, so he knows he won’t accidentally run into her. She still hasn’t left his mind, his head in a constant swirl since his stupid conversation with Sam.

So, naturally, Dean comes to the conclusion that only some self-completion down the shower drain might help to clear his thoughts and flush the huntress out of his mind for good. He’s not proud of it, but it’s certainly not the first time since he’s known her that he thinks about her while jerking off. Usually, it only happens when he has to spend too many nights in a row with her in a small motel room without a way to escape, but this time, though, he fully blames Sam and his big mouth for it.

Wandering down the hall to the bathroom, his head bobs to the rhythm of the music flowing through his ears, his green eyes fixed on his phone screen as he scrolls through his playlist. Mindlessly opening the door, he suddenly freezes as another body bumps straight into him.

It all happens pretty fast from there. There’s a loud, high-pitched shriek that filters through the music, his hand drops his phone, and his headphones fall down with it, severing the connection and leaving him in silence as his palms catch a taut-skinned body in his arms while the towel around his waist glides to the tiled floor. And then, he just stares into two big and shocked pupils, which are probably as wide as his own.

Fuck…

For a second, Dean feels incredibly exposed before noticing the warm skin that’s pressed flush against his own body. Yep, he doesn’t dare to check, but he’s certain Y/N’s completely naked, too.

“Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…,” Y/N’s panicked voice chimes in his ears as both of them awkwardly avert their gazes in different directions to the ceiling and avoid eye contact at all costs while still clinging tightly onto each other, aware that if one of them moves, it’s game over and they’d see each other in their full glory. Basically, they’re each other’s damn shields – as uncomfortable as that may be. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!”

“I, uh…” That’s when Dean realizes Y/N probably didn’t even know he stayed behind and let Sam go to Wichita alone. “Sam wanted to watch a documentary.”

“I know!” Y/N yells in annoyance and grits, “You were supposed to go with him! Granted, I was surprised you agreed to it in the first place, but still, you’re not supposed to be home!”

“He didn’t tell me it was a documentary about dirt, alright? Otherwise, it would’ve been a straight-up ‘no’ from the start,” Dean explains and tries not to get hard as he feels Y/N’s tits press against his chest. Judging by the precise feeling that’s poking him, she must be somewhat cold.

“Yes, he did! I was right there when you agreed,” Y/N argues. “He talked about it for over an hour.”

“Oh,” Dean stumps and clears his throat rather awkwardly. Who could blame him for not listening, huh?

“You never listen to people! It’s so goddamn annoying!”

“Y/N, you need to stop talking, sweetheart,” Dean begs her, squeezing his eyes shut as he concentrates on anything else for dear life.

Baseball, Sam drinking green smoothies, a scratch on Baby’s new coat of paint… He attempts to distract his mind from the unavoidable, but it’s no use. The skin-on-skin contact is his final nail in the coffin.

“Oh, I’m sure you would love that, wouldn’t you?” Y/N continues in a furious huff, “It’s not always about you–”

“Y/N, please… All that angry shaking isn’t helping, sweetheart.”

The huntress cocks an eyebrow high, almost reaching the messy bun on top of her head. “Helping with what?”

“Uhm…”

And that’s when he can’t control it any longer. There’s a distinctive twitch against her thigh, and he’s sure she’s felt it, too. Shit, shit, shit…

“Oooooh.” Y/N awkwardly presses her lips into a thin line, her fingertips tapping a nervous melody on his skin. Her single utterance makes his heart stop. It’s game over. She’s going to call him a gross perv, move out of the bunker, and then never speak to him again. “It’s-, uhm, it’s okay,” she says surprisingly, her head bobbing with a thick swallow as she reassuringly squeezes his biceps where her palms rest.

“Y/N, I’m-, uh… oh God… I’m so, so sorry,” he stammers, deciding to keep his eyes shut to escape some of the awkwardness.

“I-, no, it’s not-… This is a weird situation we’re in… It’s fine. Completely normal, right? Like, uhm, like a reflex?”

“Uh, yeah, guess so,” Dean gulps, his eyelids slowly fluttering open and gaze drifting back to the ceiling. It’s not a goddamn reflex, though. It’s all her. It’s the effect she has on him.

“We should, uh, probably, uhm, detangle…”

“Uh-huh, yup, nope, agree,” he says and clears his throat once more, hoping the fluster will leave his body soon. “You, uh, wanna bend down, and we both can grab our towels?”

Fuck, it’ll probably be awkward between them for months now. They’ll avoid each other during breakfast, lunch, dinner… They’ll stop watching movies together, Sam will have to be their buffer and hate it, and they probably won’t look directly into each other’s eyes till Christmas – and it’s only fucking February.

“Oh, uhm… I actually, technically didn’t, uh, come with a towel?”

His eyebrow twitches upward, head slightly tilting to the side as he thinks about her words. “Oh, uh… Wait… Were you, uhm, walking around like… naked through the bunker?”

Well, there’s an image Dean’s never gonna get out of his head. Now, he’ll forever wonder if she takes off her clothes as soon as he walks out the door.

“Look, I thought I was alone, okay?! Again – you’re not actually supposed to be here! Don’t judge me!” Y/N defends, the panic returning to her voice, and then adds something in an almost inaudible mumble, “Just wanted to let the girls breathe a little. Sue me…”

“What?” His head tilts some more, the fine creases on his brow deepening.

“Nothing… never mind,” she quickly splutters, her cheeks flushing bright red as she visibly swallows.

Dean snorts. He’s in love with a dork, isn’t he? God, she’s adorable.

And then, it fucking happens again. Dammit…

“Was that…”

“Again – I’m so, so sorry,” he apologizes once more, although he’s sure he can’t do it often enough. His dick is an escaped zoo animal and clearly on the prowl tonight.

“No, uh… So how do you wanna do this? We could, uhm, maybe turn 180 and then close our eyes and let go… I could, uhm, run really fast down the hall, and you could just quickly back into the bathro–”

Y/N doesn’t get to finish laying out her plan. Dean’s lips on hers stop any further words from spilling out of her mouth. The featherlight kiss doesn’t last longer than a painfully anxious second, his mind racing a mile a minute, his brain positively fried.

What the hell is he fucking doing? There’s only one rule in the bunker: don’t sexually harass Y/N. Dean’s pretty damn sure he’s breaking that rule right now and crossing too many goddamn lines. How’s he supposed to ever recover from this?

“What, uh…” Y/N’s speechless, every muscle frozen stiff in his embrace. Her eyebrows draw up and reach her hairline, eyes blown wide in shock. “Or that… you could do that…”

“Oh God, I’m so sorry,” Dean groans in defeat and shame, hoping the Earth opens up and takes him straight to the burning fires of Hell. See? There aren’t enough apologies in this world to make up for his stupidity. “You know, this is all Sam’s fault… He just got into my head… I mean, this is obviously the wrong first move… I-I shouldn’t have done that. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just have a, you know, teeny-tiny crush on you, but still, this is obviously inappropriate.”

“You-, uhm, you have a crush on me?”

Dean swallows the hard lump in his throat. “Uh, yeah… Yeah, I do,” he admits bravely. “But don’t worry about it, okay? It’s just a temporary thing, alright?”

Y/N nods slightly in understanding. “For how long have you felt this way?”

“Well, uhm, like I said – not that long… Just a very short period of time… Like, since November 29th… 2012,” he gulps and shrugs sheepishly, watching her brow furrow in confusion.

“But… that’s the day we met,” Y/N points out.

Dean chuckles uncomfortably and rebuffs her concerns. “Is it? No…,” he rasps. “Well, uhm, anyways, that doesn’t change anything. Don’t worry, alright? No need to make this weird. I’m sure if we give it a couple more years, I’ll be completely over you.”

Y/N’s head bobs again, her lips pursing. “Okay, uhm… But what if you, uh, you know, maybe get over me in the literal sense… and I could get under you?”

The gears in his head start turning as he musingly squints his pine green eyes at her and studies her features. She seems nervous. There’s a bite of her lower lip and a light swallow in her throat, her pupils flickering insecurely. “Uhm, well… is that something you would like? I mean, to get-, uh, would you wanna get under me?”

“Uhm… yes? Yeah?” She looks up at him and meets his gaze, their eyes fully connecting for the first time since they have catapulted themselves into this mortifying situation.

“Is that a question?” Dean checks and chuckles lightly. “Because you kinda need to be sure about this, y’know?”

Another swallow and Y/N nods, determination gleaming in her eyes. He feels her weight shift forward, her feet rising on tip-toes as her palms move from his upper arms to the back of his neck. Her soft, pillowy lips catch his, a tender touch as their mouths carefully mold together. She sucks on his upper lip, nibbles on the bottom one before he feels the tip of her tongue lick between. He opens his mouth wider, lets her slip inside.

Dean’s hands then begin to travel, his confidence growing as Y/N’s fingers tug slightly on the short strands of hair in the nape of his neck, trying to draw him closer. One large hand cups her neck, the other one smoothing down her spine and pressing into the small of her back. He pushes her closer, deepens the kiss, and both of them moan needily while their tongues dance with each other. His grip on her becomes stronger, their bodies melting into one. Y/N gasps into his mouth, her hips pushing against his, skin on skin, as her bare pussy brushes his bulging dick.

“Shit…,” Dean mutters breathlessly against her lips, and Y/N breaks the kiss and meets his eyes with a hint of a smile.

Her lips are red and glistening, her chest heaving with ragged breaths. He cups her blushed cheek, thumb ghosting over the kiss-swollen flesh of her bottom lip as he mirrors her soft smile.

“You okay?” Y/N checks, giggling slightly.

Dean chuckles, palm still caressing her cheek. “Yeah, uh, just realized we’re incredibly naked.”

She snorts and nods, “Yeah, guess that doesn’t leave a lot to the imagination, huh?”

“Definitely not,” Dean agrees and laughs a little, his cheeks blushing with bashfulness. “But, look, we don’t have to do anything tonight, alright? We can take it slow.”

Y/N thoughtfully chews on her lip, her dimples showing a smile before she shakes her head. “No, I think we’ve been taking things slow for long enough.”

Dean’s face breaks into a grin before he pulls her back to his lips for a searing kiss. Y/N’s hands lock around his neck, allowing him to lift her up, and her legs instinctively wrap around his waist. His hand weaves into her hair, still damp in the back of her neck from her bath, as the scent of her delicious body wash and lotion seep into his nostrils with each intake of air.

“You smell nice,” he notes, his mouth trailing along her jawline and down her throat, leaving wet kisses in his wake as he sucks her pulse point black and blue. “Like a flower garden…”

Y/N giggles, the cute sound in his ears causing his heart to flutter. She clasps his jaw and draws his attention back to her face, nuzzling her nose against his, whispering, “Bedroom. Need you inside me…”

“Jesus, Y/N… Going in for the kill, huh? You can’t say stuff like that to a man in a compromising position,” he jokes, making her laugh more. “Okay, hold on, sweetheart. You ready?”

She confirms it with a nod, and Dean adjusts his grip on her body, grabbing her a little tighter before bolting down the bunker hallway like a little kid on Christmas morning. The huntress squeals and giggles in his arms as he kicks the door open to his bedroom, gently laying her down on the mattress. She lets herself fall back and stretches out on the bed, her shoulder blades indenting the memory foam, and he hopes the thing does as advertised and fucking remembers her forever.

“You’re fast,” Y/N teases him as he quickly makes his way on top of her.

Dean chuckles, placing soft kisses on her lips in between his laughs. “Yeah, well, I’d run a mile just to get a taste of you, sweetheart. But don’t worry – not all of it will be this fast, alright?”

“Oh, I didn’t think it would be,” she giggles and licks her lips. “Can you just do me a favor?”

“Anything, sweetheart,” Dean assures her and lovingly brushes her hair behind her ears.

“Just judging by, uhm, size-,” she interrupts her sentence for a giggle, and he joins in. She’s so fucking cute. “Can you go slow?”

“Oh, trust me. I would’ve taken my time either way, but tell you what – I’ll even do you one better,” he says. His fingers then slide up her arm, along her collarbone and down to one breast. She shivers underneath him, her skin breaking into delicate goosebumps, soon soothed by his warm lips. His thumb brushes her bud, plays with it until it hardens and then alleviates the sensation with his hot breath and wet tongue.

“Fuuuuck,” Y/N sighs blissfully, her toes curling as a smile shapes on her lips, fully relaxing under his care. “Feels so good, De.”

His chuckle vibrates against her ribcage, his mouth traveling down her upper body, his kisses not missing an inch of smooth skin. Every rib, every beauty mark, every freckle gets the attention they deserve, even teasingly dipping his tongue into her navel. The last tender kiss is placed on her mound as he moves between her legs and spreads her thighs a little wider.

A smirk forms on his face as he leers at her pussy, bright pink and already glistening with her arousal. He catches her watchful gaze, sees a bit of insecurity shimmering in it as she nibbles her fingernails and bottom lip almost bloody, so he cheekily wiggles his eyebrows and sends her a wink, causing her to giggle and roll her eyes at his antics before she lets herself fall back into the mattress with a calming, deep breath.

Licking his thumb pad, he presses it against her sensitive nub, her thighs jolting for a second at the initial touch as a hiss escapes her throat, followed shortly by a strangled whimper. Y/N’s hands fist the bedsheet a little tighter, her knuckles turning white, every muscle wired to the nth degree. Her chest heaves frantically as her breathing grows more erratic with each little circle of his digit. His index finger then stretches and reaches her dripping entrance, rubbing at the tight ring before he easily pushes inside and curls it, poking the spongey spot.

“Fuck, Dean…,” she manages to croak out, biting down on her tongue.

Dean only chuckles, a giddy feeling spreading in his stomach and loving how responsive she is to his touches. There’s a loud whimper when he kisses her pussy lips, tongue dipping between and giving her clit a kitten lick, distracting her enough to shove his middle finger inside her cunt as well, scissoring them once he’s knuckles-deep.

“Oh God… shit,” she groans and whines above him.

He laughs lightly and curiously observes the torment on her face. “Wanna cum, huh?”

“Dean, I swear… I-… please,” she begs, her initial threat morphing into a soft plea for mercy.

“I got you, sweetheart,” he assures her amusedly and swiftly presses his mouth back on her pussy, sucking her sensitive bundle of nerves between his plump lips and thrusting his digits harder and faster inside her. It only takes three, four pushes and one skilled suck before she convulses, trembles, and soaks his face and fingers in her juices. He groans at the sweet taste of her on his tongue, his cock twitches gleefully between his bow legs, only too eager to slide in next.

“Oh God! Fuck… shit… D-Dean!”

The green-eyed hunter grins broadly up at her, his face almost split in half as he bathes in her blissed-out expression and the rosy cheeks that accompany it.

“Wow,” she breathes and shakily catches his swollen and wet lips as he comes back up to her eye level, propping his arms up on the sides of her head.

“I think you’re ready for the big gun now,” he laughs and places a loving kiss on the tip of her nose and another one on her forehead.

“Uh-huh, I’m not so sure after this,” she giggles, still catching her breath. She cups his jaw, kisses him deeply, and licks her arousal from his pillowy lips. “You’re… amazing.”

“Right back at you, sweetheart,” he winks, the softness of his smile contrasting his cockiness. “Do we, uhm, need–”

Y/N shakes her head, anticipating his question. “No, uh, I’m on the pill. I just need you.”

With a smile, he nods and ducks his head, entangling her in a blazing kiss as he devours her lips. His hand pushes between their heated bodies, fisting his achingly hard cock before he threads his dickhead through her folds, coats it with her slick before it catches at her entrance. His thick and leaking tip pushes inside, slowly entering her drenched cunt inch by inch till he’s buried deep and touches her cervix, stretching her tight walls around his impressive girth and hearing her little gasps of sheer pleasure.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he rasps at the feeling of her pussy enveloping his cock and gently brushes her hair out of her face, kissing her deeply. “Taking me so well… Such a good girl f’me.”

“God, you feel like heaven,” she whimpers and wraps her arms around his neck.

As he languidly pulls out to the tip, he kisses down her neck, sucking a mark into her skin. His hand wraps around one of hers, pinning it above her head to the mattress, fingers tightly interlocking before he thrusts back into her heat. His hips then work up a rhythm, a slow and soft song, as he fucks her deep and slams home harder at just the right spot.  

Her second orgasm builds slowly yet deeply, aiming to shatter her from within as she hears the ticking of a bomb in every muscle of her body, counting down the seconds before a massive explosion. She moans loudly as the earth-shattering climax hits her at full force, booming and wild as she curses his name over and over.

His fingers grip hers tighter, his thrusts growing sloppy as he lazily fucks her, her pulsating walls clenching around his firm cock. His hips begin to stutter, broad shoulders quaking as he spills deep inside her and stills. He grunts, her name falling from his lips, loud, strained, and primal when he cums, painting her walls with his milky seed.

“Wow,” Dean repeats her earlier sentiment, her giggle causing his heart to soar higher than the moon in the sky. “You okay?”

A wide smile spreads across her face, a tired nod moving her head. “Yeah, more than okay,” she assures him and seeks out his lips.

Dean places one last kiss on her hairline before removing his limp and drenched dick from her center, rolling to his side and pulling her onto his chest, his arms wrapping tightly around her frame. “Hey, Y/N?”

She wearily lifts her heavy head to meet his green eyes. “Hm?”

“Were you, uhm, lonely?” Dean asks, his fingertips drawing tender patterns on her back.

“I guess… a little, yeah,” she admits. “Why?”

He kisses her forehead and pulls her closer. “Nothing. Just… I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You wanna move into my room?”

Y/N’s beam is blinding, her cheeks blushing brightly pink. “Yeah, I’d love that,” she replies and snuggles back into his chest.

Dean then notices her eyes falling shut, losing the battle against sleep as her breathing calms in his embrace, his own mind following her into dreamland soon after.

In the morning, Y/N and Dean are still soundly asleep, entangled in sheets and limbs, when there are a few abrupt knocks on the door before it pops open to its full extent, the youngest Winchester’s voice drowning in from the hall.

“Hey, Dean? I’m back! Look, I figured we could talk. I’m sorry about yesterd–… ay… Whoa!”

“Wha-!” Y/N jolts up from the bed at the unexpected intrusion, her elbow hitting Dean straight in the face as he rises behind her. The force of the blow knocks him out of bed, the hunter tumbling to the cold ground.

Y/N clasps her palm over her mouth, staring at Sam’s shocked expression, their eyes both wide before she glances over her shoulder to her lover on the ground.

“Ow! Jesus…”

“Y/N?”

“Hi, Sam,” the huntress smiles awkwardly at the younger Winchester, sheepishly shrugging her shoulders as she hides her naked body underneath the sheets. “Good morning. How-, uh, how was the documentary?”

“Uhm, good?” Sam doesn’t look any less freaked out by what his hazel eyes are witnessing, though.

Dean groans behind her, rubbing a palm over his aching face before sending his little brother a lazy grin. “Hiya, Sammy.”

Sam then lets out a long sigh through his nose and mutters, “About damn time…”

“Yeah, about that, little brother… Might call Eileen and book yourself a room for at least a week somewhere,” Dean tells him, smirking.

Sam’s brow furrows, “What? Why?”

“Oh, because I’m gonna rail Y/N in every room we have,” Dean explains casually, watching Sam’s eyes widen.

“Oh?” Y/N sends her boyfriend an intrigued look, which he responds to with a sly wiggle of his eyebrows and a wink. “Even the dungeon? Are you, like, gonna tie me up and stuff?”

Dean’s eyes look at her lovingly, causing her cheeks to flush with heat. “Where have you been all my life, sweetheart?”

“Oh God, what have I done…,” Sam groans with a thick swallow.

PHEW! And we’re done with one shot week, babes! 😮‍💨 I honestly hadn’t planned this but found some inspiration over the weekend and finished some WIPs, and since they were all about different kinds of love, I figured they were perfect for Valentine’s Day 💖

Hope you enjoyed these various journeys, and if you did, please consider telling me here and leaving me with some kind words 🥰 Now excuse me while I go work on a few Soldier Boy one shots. I’ve missed my toxic Ben-Ben. Read you soon, babes! 😝🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali @this-is-me19 @writercole @awkward-and-indecisive @eevvvaa @panicking-outside-the-disco @globetrotter28 @imherefordeanandbones @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior @xlynnbbyx @jassackles @maggiegirl17 @perpetualabsurdity @deans-spinster-witch @deandreamernp @foxyjwls007 @roseblue373 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @deanwithscissors @mrsjenniferwinchester @justrealizedimmascifygurl @akshi8278 @flamencodiva @chriszgirl92 @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul @djs8891 @leigh70 @snowlovespie @b3autyfuldisast3r @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78 @muhahaha303 @mimaria420 @creepzeyecandy @avanatural​

Dean Tags: @parinarain​ @hobby27​ @fromcaintodean​

[cold--carnage]

anon shut the fuck up challenge. I sincerely doubt you're a doctor and even if you were, the medical world doesn't seem to know a damn thing about how the human mind actually works. suck a tailpipe, fucko. and leave our friends alone

i hope you realize you can’t just become a system. especially if you’re past the age of 7. so if you’ve just so happened to “become” a system, that’s wrong.

okay cool I do know that thanks I don't think I owe you my mental health history

[cold--carnage]

our feral demon creature whom we all love dearly

[angelbvn]

OH Yuki I just remembered. Seb had done some illustrations of your wings for you I believe. I can post those again for you if you'd like

- Dean

:DDD eeeeeee i actually have them saved in a special file hehee but id be vv happi if u re-posted them again!! :3 (cuz i adore my wings and seeing that others draw them makes me vv vv happy hehe)

[celestialprincesse]

Bourbon 🏜🥃

You linger somewhat awkwardly in Simon's kitchen, eyes darting about to take everything in whilst you run the pad of your forefinger over the ridges of the glass which you currently sip from. The newcomer seems to observe you with something you could almost see as appreciation, chocolate eyes flitting from your head to your booted toes.

"Nice place." You hum, trying unsuccessfully to break the silence, pulling the sleeves of your shirt over your palms. "Got it cheap." He nods, turning back to the casserole dish which he warms through on the stovetop. "Everything here is cheap." The sound of your voice comes out so unintentionally bitter that you force yourself to clear your throat as you stare at him with a flush overtaking your cheeks, suddenly intrigued by the contents of your glass.

"Haven't seen you 'round." Simon observes, taking the pot from the stove and placing it on the dining table, reaching too easily to the top cupboard over the sink to withdraw two bowls, sliding them across the table whilst you automatically fill them with the casserole. You can't help but to hum in satisfaction when the steam finds your nose and makes your stomach growl.

"Don't get out so much." Your voice fills the kitchen as he stares at you, handing you a fork. "Too much to get done at my place. Tryna get ready for when summer starts proper."

"It's June." The soldier before you chuffs, and you think perhaps he raises an amused brow beneath his balaclava.

You give a noncommittal hum at that, settling in the chair opposite him and pointing at the hulking figure hunched over the table with your fork. "July's when it gets real hot. Days get longer." You advise, taking an appreciative bite of your own cooking, lips kicking up in a smile when he gives a nod of enjoyment himself. With the balaclava rolled halfway up his crooked nose, you can't help but appreciate more than just his quiet company, but also the pronounced bow of his lips and the strong set of his jaw, shadowed by just barely grown out stubble and a wry smirk.

"Good to know." He grunts before taking another mouthful of his food whilst you take a long sip of bourbon to distract yourself from the off-putting sensuality of his movements.

"Marlene saw you at the body shop. You fix cars or sum'n?" "Marlene?" Simon nearly chokes at your bluntness before his surprise turns to amusement at how you're practically more socially inept than he is.

"Marlene. Pretty, blonde, talks like she's verbally incontinent? Flits around Frank like a moth to a flame?" "Frank?"

"Hell." You huff, pinching the bridge of your nose between your thumb and forefinger.

"What?" He grunts with a chuckle that has your heart doing flips against your ribs.

"You know anyone here?" "I know you." That wry smile pulls at his lips again and you think that if he keeps looking at you like that you'll either puke or cry - or wind up on your knees - which you'd really rather not be doing when you've known this guy all of five minutes.

"Frank's a mechanic, works at the bodyshop, which Dean owns. Marlene is Frank's girlfriend - and the biggest gossip on this side of the equator."

"Right - and Marlena-" "Marlene." "Marlene told you I fix cars?"

"No. Marlene told me she say you at the body shop and by the state of the Chevy outside I put two and two together."

He gives a thoughtful hum at that, looking over at you with a glint in his eye before washing down his last bite with a swill of whiskey.

"I'm no mechanic but I know a thing or two." "About old cars?" You can't tamp down the obvious hope in your voice as you stare up at him in a way that makes his stomach tighten.

"How old?" "I got a '69 fastback. S' a mess and I got no time to look at it properly. Not even too sure where to start."

"I'll come over and have a look tomorrow." Simon grunts, leaving no room for argument as he goes back to eating whilst you stare like he's just told you he's actually Superman disguised as a very handsome, rugged military man.

"Eat your dinner."

[supernaturalconvert]

I like that fact that nothing tortures Dean more than lying to Sam especially when Sam is so earnest and happy. Supernatural at its peak.

Honestly, that's the one quality that makes Dean human and that's his soft spot is his brother. Ahhh

Stackednatural- 41/327

Devil May Care (9x02) October 15th, 2013

[siolpritozba]

🥃CG Dean Winchester moodboard!🥃

This man's soul is hardwired to care for others, he'd be so so happy to care for his little one whenever they'd go tiny! And he'd help them with quite a bit of mischief too hehe...

[pinkiebieberpie]

social media au: sam x dean x winchester!reader ft. castiel

you can find my first winchester!reader social media au <here>, enjoy!! <33 feedback and reblogs are appreciated ++ this one includes crowley cameo

y/nwinchester

liked by impala67, castiel and 49 others

out with my favorite brother 🍸🥃

castiel: i thought you were working

y/nwinchester: @ castiel cause we were

swinchester: what do you mean favorite??

impala67: @ swinchester that means she likes me more, sammy

kingofhell: you are right, i like dean more too

swinchester

liked by y/nwinchester, castiel and 51 others

🧒🏻🧒🏻👧🏻

castiel: you all were adorable

y/nwinchester: where the hell have you found this??

impala67: we are old now

y/nwinchester: @ impala67 you are*

castiel

liked by y/nwinchester, impala67, swinchester and 48 others

i have a new friend

y/nwinchester: OH MY GOD WHO IS HE, CAN WE KEEP HIM???

castiel: @ y/nwinchester that's a cat

impala67: @ y/nwinchester and we can't

swinchester: we should have a pet

y/nwinchester: @ swinchester you are my favorite brother now, WE SHOULD, YOU ARE THE SMART ONE SAM!!

impala67

liked by castiel, kingofhell and 58 others

2/3 winchesters

castiel: just wanted to tell you that y/n is fine

y/nwinchester: @ castiel ??? you are not my babysitter

y/nwinchester: and you are missing a better 1/3

swinchester: @ y/nwinchester when we are on a hunt, he is your babysitter

y/nwinchester: @ swinchester i'm an adult

swinchester: @ y/nwinchester and cas is an angel

kingofhell: our boys night out when??

y/nwinchester

liked by swinchester, castiel, kingofhell and 62 others

self care me time 🧖🏻‍♀️🌿

castiel: 💚💚

impala67: you have something on your face

kingofhell: i guess that's why she is the prettiest winchester, boys, you should try some face masks @ swinchester @ impala67

supernatural masterlist ++ tagging my sun ☀️ @fleurfairie

[sothischickshe]

Shattering your silence; passing round the chalice - Chapter 6 - s_t_c_s - Good Girls (TV) [Archive of Our Own]

Shattering chapter 6 exists! Ft:

a little under 4k word units

Rio pov, obvi

smut

angst

brio

🥃🥃🥃

mentions of dean(/Beth)

hair-yanking

feet mentions

breathplay

maybe some light rio/dean if you really squint

roughish sex

reuse of canon lines

idiots, ofc

mess (kink)

canon-typical body hair removal

[waynes-multiverse]

Labyrinth

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Summary: A dangerous Wendigo hunt takes the Winchesters and their companion to an abandoned mine shaft and a maze of tunnels. Dean, on the other hand, not only has to find an exit in an underground cave system but also fights against his feelings for a young huntress as he battles through a labyrinth of thoughts and fears.

Warnings: a bit of language, angst, a trifecta of monsters, caves & earthquakes, canon-level violence, injuries & rebars, protective!Dean, idiots in love, silly jealousy, fluff

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Written as a request for @tieddown-withbattleshipchains​. Hope this scratches the itch! It turned out a little angstier because Wendigos scare the shit outta me, but there’s tons of fluff in between and certainly at the end! 🥰 Inspired by Labyrinth by Taylor Swift (Duh. What else? 😂) and my favorite horror flick The Descent. Enjoy!

Feedback is highly appreciated! Get me drunk on it and fill my writer’s juice 🤓🥃

Main Masterlist | Dean Winchster Masterlist

Have you ever loved someone so much that just being in their distanced proximity hurts your heart? Loved someone so much that every time they pass you by, their scent drives you mad, their voice gives you shivers, and your own words fail to come clean? So much that lunacy seems like sanity?

Well, Dean pretty much feels precisely like this, feels like he’s going slowly but surely insane as he trails behind Y/N through the woods of Montana. Every wind, even the tiniest breeze, wafts microscopic particles of her perfume into his nostrils, causing him to bite the insides of his cheeks harder, hoping the metallic taste will erase everything that is her. So far, not even the intense smell of pine helps, though. For the last half an hour, all he keeps thinking about is the huntress he’s known for years, wondering if he were able to taste the M&Ms she ate earlier in the car on her tongue once he would finally gather enough courage to kiss her – not that this fantasy would ever be maintainable in the first place.

It’s like a kid’s dream. Dean’s a rockstar, an astronaut, and a pilot all at once whenever he’s near her.

“I think we should be there in an hour,” Y/N muses and halts in her boots to check map and compass, Sam instantly joining her to take a look over her shoulder. “The mine shaft and the cave system are a few miles up the mountain. If we follow the trail along the river, it should lead us right there.”

“Sounds good. We still have enough daylight,” Sam agrees with a resolute nod and a look to the sky, where the sun is still standing high above their heads.

Dean, on the other hand, ignores the eerie feeling in his gut. Aware Y/N is a seasoned hunter with a superb skill set, he knows there’s no real reason for him to worry more than he should. She can handle herself; she always could. It’s a hunt like any other, one of many over the years. Hell, it’s not even the first Wendigo they’ve hunted together. There was another one three years back in Michigan. So truly, what’s different this time?

Right, his fucking feelings…

Y/N and Sam keep chatting as they cheerily march up the mountain, their breaths not even remotely labored, even though the climb is pretty steep. Apparently, going for a jog every morning pays off. Dean, however, stays quiet and trails behind them, green eyes observing their surroundings as he swallows the tiny bit of apprehension and jealousy down.

“You’re quiet today,” Y/N notes and purposely falls back to his speed as Sam wanders ahead – not before the younger Winchester shoots his older brother a secret look that says tell her, though. “You okay?”

The green-eyed hunter mirrors the small smile on her lips and nods, gulping, “Yeah, I’m fine, sweetheart.”

“Okay,” Y/N accepts with a slight pout, although she’s obviously far away from buying his lie. She licks her lips and adjusts the straps of her backpack on her shoulders. “So, uhm, after the hunt, I figured we could check out that bar across the motel?”

“Sounds good,” Dean agrees, his smile widening and cheeks blushing, even though it’s just the usual hunter invitation to celebrate the end of a case.

“Okay, great,” Y/N lets out a small breath of relief. Was she nervous to ask him? Why the hell would she be? “I actually have to tell you something, so I could use a little liquid courage.”

Dean’s brow furrows, his heart rate accelerating. “Liquid courage? For what? You know you can always tell me everything.”

“Not everything,” Y/N mumbles and averts her gaze to the trail ahead.

“C’mon, what is it?” Maybe it’s wishful thinking or sheer curiosity, but Dean can’t help it and hopes she feels the same way he does, although it sounds like complete insanity again. She’ll probably only confess that she’s been in love with Sam this whole time. He is the smarter choice, after all. Just look at that flawless mane of hair!

Y/N only shakes her head at him and hides a mischievous grin behind her lip bite. “Nuh-uh, forget it. Not drunk enough yet,” she says and then hops forward to join Sam again.

After an hour, the three hunters finally reach the mine shaft that leads to an intricate cave system – the perfect hideout for a monster. Eight women disappeared here last week, the location a popular hotspot for everyone who seeks thrills and adventures. Dean doesn’t count himself as one of those people. His life is adventurous enough as is. Frankly, he would’ve preferred pay-per-view at the motel over this hellish trip.  

Equipped with flashlights, the three carefully stalk inside. It’s incredibly dark and humid, low growls echoing off the stony, muddy walls, so the hunters know they’ve found the right place. The monster is definitely here, even though it still sounds miles away, which isn’t ideal. It only means they have to venture further in, and Dean already hates this with every fiber of his goddamn being. Caves are not exactly his favorite hunting grounds. Y/N, however, seems as fearless as ever, and Dean can’t help but admire her endless bravery. Obviously, she’s so out of his league it’s not even a little bit funny.

“Did you guys hear that?” Y/N stops in her tracks, her ears perked as she surveys the array of noises that bleed through.

“Woman’s voice?” Dean checks, although he’s sure all three of them can hear the faint screams and whimpers.

“One of ‘em is still alive, apparently,” Sam muses, concern and sympathy etched into his brow.

“I think it’s coming from here,” Y/N says and holds her ear to a small cave opening in the wall – if you can even call it that, the entrance as big as a cartoonish mouse hole.

“We can’t fit in there. We need to find another way around it,” Sam informs them and pulls out the cave map they’ve received from a park ranger.

“You guys can’t fit in there.”

“What?!” Dean’s head snaps to Y/N as soon as those words leave her mouth, seeing the gears turning in her head.

“I’m small… unlike my broad-shouldered friends. I can fit,” she shrugs casually as if it wasn’t the craziest suggestion she’d ever made.

“Mm-mm, no. You’re not squeezing through a small tunnel with a monster waiting for you on the other side, Y/N,” Dean tells her sternly, only one sharp tone away from making it a full-on order.

“Dean, she might be dead by the time we get there. I can do this,” Y/N assures him. “This isn’t my first Wendigo, you know?”

As Dean glances at Sam for some support, surely convinced his little brother would come to the same conclusion, the green-eyed hunter soon notices Sam’s suspicious silence on the subject matter and frowns. So much for brotherly support…

“Dean, it might be the only way to save that girl,” Sam agrees. Of course, the gentle giant does.

“Alright, so we all agree,” Y/N smiles and throws her backpack on the ground, pulling out a few flares, a machete, and a lighter.

“No, we don’t,” Dean shakes his head vehemently. “I don’t agree. Not at all. Very much disagree with this plan, in fact.”

“Okay, noted. It’s still two against one, so sorry. Guess you’re losing this one, De,” Y/N says simply and then puts the flashlight into her mouth, proceeding to crawl through the narrow opening.

Dean’s close to grabbing her ankles and pulling her back out, not caring about any surefire protests on her part and the huntress’s wrath as his heart pounds so harshly and loudly against his ribs it almost sounds like a Neil Peart drum solo in his chest.

“Y/N, you still okay?” Dean checks after a minute when the soles of her shoes have disappeared from his sight. As he shines his flashlight into the tunnel, he recognizes her a few feet ahead. “I don’t like this,” he tells Sam, chewing roughly on his plump bottom lip while his brow is in a constant crinkle.

“Me neither, but it’s the only choice we have, Dean,” Sam counters and focuses back on the map in his hands.

“Oh, is it?!” Dean mocks in sheer sibling annoyance. “You better find out where that tunnel leads and how we can fucking get there,” he barks as the anxiety claims his lungs. “Fast.”

“Already on it,” Sam assures him.

Dean’s heart only gets a single second free of concern, though, before Y/N’s voice rings every alarm bell in his goddamn head.

“Guys? There’s something wrong here. And there’s definitely blood and… stuff in this tunnel,” Y/N informs them, her voice barely audible the farther she gets. “It’s really gross…”

“Okay, Y/N, just get back out here. We’ll find another way,” Dean orders her, his flashlight and eyes unable to see her as he peers into the hole again. Her sweet voice is all he has left now.

“I-I don’t think I can move back out, De,” she says, her tone laced with slight panic now. “This thing is kinda tight. Kinda like… You know what? Never mind.” Dean knows she attempted a dirty joke there, one he certainly would’ve appreciated if he wasn’t currently fearing for her life. “I can only go forward. Just meet me at the end, okay?”

Quite panicked himself at this point, the green-eyed hunter turns back to his brother, “You found it yet?”

“Uh, yeah, I think it’s that way,” Sam muses and points at one of three tunnel options ahead.

“You think or you know, Sam?!”

And because misery loves company, at this exact moment, the ground, the walls, the ceiling all suddenly begin to violently shake and tremble, small pieces of stone and dirt coming loose. There’s a “shit” echoing through Y/N’s tunnel that reaches the hunter’s ears before more rumblings follow, more stones fall, and the tunnel closes completely and cuts the huntress off from the brothers.

“Was that a fucking earthquake?” Dean tries to shield his head from falling debris and coughs the dirt from his lungs before frantically checking the small tunnel for proof of life, but all he can see is dirt, dust, and more stones. “Y/N? Y/N! Are you alright, sweetheart? FUCK!”

“Dean, c’mon, we’ll find her,” Sam soothes and heads for the far left tunnel opening.

“Why is there a fucking earthquake in Montana? It’s not freaking California,” Dean huffs as he stomps behind his little brother, hoping the huntress is still alive and not hurt too badly as he speeds up his strides. Either she’s been crushed to death, or a monster will munch on her, and needless to say, neither option is acceptable to him.  

“Actually, Montana has seven to ten every day, which makes it the fourth most seismically active state,” Sam shares his National Geographic knowledge nonchalantly, earning him an angry scowl from the green-eyed hunter.

Yeah, guess what – Dean’s not super interested in random nerd facts right now.

There’s a loud scream that echoes through the cave system, and for an agonizing heartbeat, Dean halts in his boots as he recognizes the voice. No doubt it’s Y/N’s, and his feet set into motion and start running, following the noises of struggle as he rounds corner after corner, blindly running into different tunnels as Sam tries to keep up with him.

The maze of cave tunnels feels as familiar as his mind, a labyrinth of unknown paths that lead him to different options. But the green-eyed hunter doesn’t need a map anymore; he knows exactly where to find her without wasting a single thought on it. His heart is still the best navigation system.

There’s a flicker of red light at the end of his path, and Dean knows Y/N is close. There are growls and hisses before he hears the huntress desperately call his name – his and not Sam’s. It definitely shouldn’t warm his heart the way it does, especially in a life-or-death situation like this, but Dean literally can’t help the slight relief and happiness he feels in his chest over that fact, although he probably shouldn’t read too much into it.

Y/N’s brightly burning flare comes into view first before his emerald eyes spot the huntress on the ground and then the monster. She’s fending off the Wendigo as best as she can, keeping it at bay as she waves her flare in the air like a weapon, but Dean notices soon enough that she can’t move much and is hurt badly.

The older hunter quickly grabs the hairspray, pushes down on the dispenser, and lights the aerosol mist of chemicals on fire with his lighter – Y/N’s genius idea for a weapon, which she came up with in the motel room before their hunt. The flames shoot out and set the monstrous bastard on fire while Sam aims the flamethrower and incinerates the monster for good. Tarantino style, as Dean likes to call it. Unfortunately, he lost the round of Rock, Paper, Scissors over the glorious weapon to his younger brother, but truthfully, the hairspray was still satisfying enough.

As the monster turns to ash, Sam runs to the half-alive victim tied to a pole while Dean rushes to the huntress’s side. He cups her cheeks as she winces, inspecting her whole body and assessing her for injuries when he notices the small piece of rebar stuck in the side of her stomach, blood oozing out around the metal and pooling underneath her body.

“Ow, shit,” Y/N hisses and tries to wiggle, hand curling around his bicep. Dean’s hands quickly steady her before she accidentally drives the damn thing even deeper into her body.

“Shhh, don’t move, sweetheart. It’s gonna be okay, alright?” Dean assures her, although he’s frankly not sure if his calming words are more for his sake than hers. “Just breathe in and breathe out... There you go.”

“I-I don’t… I’m, uhm…,” Y/N trails off, her eyelids fighting to stay open, and his heart only begins to hammer louder in his ribcage, drumming in his ears.

“Y/N? Y/N, stay awake for me, okay?” But her eyes close for good, her palm lifelessly dropping from his arm to the ground. “SAM!”

“Dean, you can’t keep staring at her,” Sam reminds him, his voice only faintly audible behind the green-eyed hunter as his mind solely focuses on Y/N’s unconscious body in the motel room bed. “She’s gonna be creeped out when she wakes up.”

“Shut up,” Dean grumbles and hears Sam’s sigh of frustration and resignation.

“Alright, Twilight. I’ll grab more stuff from the pharmacy. She’s gonna need it,” Sam announces, hand reaching for the doorknob. “Be back in a few.”

As the door of the small motel room closes, Dean lets his head fall between his knees as he sits on the chair next to her bed, the tension still very much prominent in his shoulders and neck, although she should be in the clear by now. It certainly has been touch-and-go for a while, Y/N drifting in and out of consciousness, passing out from the pain as the brothers carefully removed the sharp piece of metal from her lower abdomen and stitched her up. Sam even had to send the older Winchester for a calming drive in the Impala while the younger one tended to her injuries, not being able to work with Dean’s constant yelling in his ears. The green-eyed hunter had surely been close to a breakdown. Luckily, they could forgo the hospital this time, the rebar not piercing through any serious organs and rupturing a spleen or a kidney.

His green eyes drift to her sleeping form. She seems a lot better now, some pinkish color having returned to her cheeks. Y/N always scares him, usually because she’s so much smarter and tougher than him, and every time he tried to order her around in the past always backfired, with her almost biting his whole head off. This time, though, she terrified him in a completely different way. She was pale, white as a sheet in his arms as he rushed her down the mountain. He swears he’s never run faster in his life. Even Sam, the professional jogger and marathon runner, could barely keep up, and Dean still feels the aching blisters from his boots whenever he shuffles on his feet too much.

“What would I have done if you died, huh?” the hunter mutters under his breath to no one in particular, knowing she’s dead asleep, and screws open the cap of his flask, taking a big gulp of whiskey, letting the burning liquid numb his throat. “You know if I lost you…” Another sip keeps the pricking tears in his green orbs at bay while his mind is battling a breakthrough. “I-I just… I can’t do that, you know? Probably would take me my whole life to get over you. I know you don’t know that, but you’re really important to me, y’know? I mean, hell, you can’t hear me anyways, so I might actually admit it for once,” he sighs at his own stupidity, fingers tapping against the silver flask. “I’ve been in love with you, Y/N… for a while, actually. At least, I think that’s what all those icky twinges in my chest are. Doesn’t feel like heartburn, like after eating a cheeseburger... I mean, they’re pretty much only there whenever you’re around, so that’s gotta be it, right? Love. Not like I have a lot of experience with that… I mean, not that I’m a virgin. I’ve had sex, you know? I just… I’ve never done the feelings thing. At least not well, I guess. So, in that case, you could probably say I’m a feelings virgin…”

Dean then groans loudly and lets his head drop into his palms, rubbing a hand across his freckled face. “Jesus fucking Christ, fuck me. God, I sound like an idiot… Thank God you can’t hear me. This is like the worst trial run ever… I mean, not like I would actually ever have enough courage to tell you all that shit while you’re actually awake, you know? I’m kinda a coward when it comes to that stuff. I mean, let’s be honest here for a second, you don’t care about me, right? You probably have the hots for Sammy. Can’t really blame you. You know, I’m not a girl, but I get it. Sometimes I’d like to tug on that hair too, so…”

And that’s when Dean’s muscles suddenly stiffen, his cheeks draining all color as he notices Y/N’s whole body quaking. His heart stops as he hears the first few snorts that slowly morph into a giggle and then into a full-on laugh.

Shit…

“Are you fucking awake?!”

Y/N pops one eye open at first, carefully checking the extent of his angered shock before she dares to pry open the second one, a mischievous twinkle gleaming in her orbs and an amused smile shaping on her pink lips.

“Okay… How much did you hear?”

Y/N shrugs her shoulders as much as she can and chuckles, “Well, pretty much… all of it.”

Dean scoffs, shaking his head as the tips of his ears turn beet red in shame. “What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while a man pours his heart out, huh? You know, I thought you were practically fucking dead!”

Y/N snorts and rolls her eyes. “You did not. And I think you mean, ‘What kinda psycho bitch pretends to be asleep while an idiot pours his heart out?’”

“Okay, haha, funny,” Dean huffs and chugs his flask. Is it too late to go back to that cave and hope the Wendigo eats him? “Can we just pretend this never happened before Sam gets back, please?”

Y/N responds with a casual twitch of her shoulders as she props herself up on the mattress. “I mean, sure… If that’s what you want.”

“Yeah, that’s what I want, okay?” Dean affirms, nodding. “Don’t want shit to be awkward between us from now on, you know?”

“Yeah, no, I totally get it,” Y/N agrees. “I mean, it would be pretty awkward for you if I didn’t feel the same way about you, which I do.”

“Yeah, see? Glad you get it,” the hunter huffs before his head snaps to her, green eyes widening and growing to the size of the moon. “Wait, what?!”

Y/N’s laughter then fills the motel room, but he can barely hear it over his own pounding heartbeat. Did she just say what he thinks she said? No, right? He heard that wrong. Jesus fuck, he better not make an even bigger fool out of himself.

“You’re cute,” Y/N tells him then and starts chewing on her lower lip.

Dean swallows thickly. “What, uh, what does that mean?”

“Jesus, you really are a feelings virgin,” she snorts another laugh and winces, all the giggles hurting her freshly stitched wound. Good, Dean thinks. She surely deserves that pain.

His cheeks heat up as he awkwardly clears his throat. “Wha-, uh… Let’s not make that a thing, okay? Please?”

“Oh, it’s totally gonna be a thing,” Y/N teases, chuckling.

“Great, mhm…” God, someone help him.

“Hey, Dean?”

“Hm, yeah?”

Y/N doesn’t say anything more – all he feels then is her soft lips pressing against his. The tension finally dissipates from his shoulders, his muscles relaxing as he leans into the kiss, his heart thumping wildly in his chest before it drops between his boots. He breathes her in, breathes into the kiss as her tongue slyly sneaks into his mouth and deepens the overwhelming passion as his head becomes dizzier the longer it lasts.

As he fervently kisses her back, he has finally found the right exit and leaves the labyrinth of his mind behind him. He’s on the right path, and it’s goddamn better than his imagination.

A few more one-shots are coming your way this week, so stay tuned, my loves, and let me know if you enjoyed this fic 🥰🖤

Everything Jensen Tags: @extraterrestriali​ @this-is-me19​ @writercole​ @awkward-and-indecisive​ @eevvvaa​ @panicking-outside-the-disco​ @globetrotter28​ @imherefordeanandbones​ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior​ @xlynnbbyx​ @jassackles​ @maggiegirl17​ @perpetualabsurdity​ @deans-spinster-witch​ @deandreamernp​ @foxyjwls007​ @roseblue373​​ @lyarr24​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @deanwithscissors​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​ @justrealizedimmascifygurl​​ @akshi8278​​ @flamencodiva​​ @chriszgirl92​​ @lhymer1995 @wittyboldsoul​​ @djs8891​​ @leigh70​​ @snowlovespie​​ @b3autyfuldisast3r​​ @recoveringpastaaddict @ladysparkles78​​ @muhahaha303​​ @mimaria420​​ @creepzeyecandy​​

Dean Tags: @parinarain​​ @hobby27​​ @fromcaintodean​​