#AND DEAN LOVED HIM AND TOOK CARE OF HIM

[wildwestdean]

transposition

summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made

pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)

word count: 6.3k+

warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)

“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”

“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face. 

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch. 

“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-” 

“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation. 

“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you. 

It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together. 

“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients. 

“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”

“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”

“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”

He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”

“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back. 

With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t. 

You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension. 

“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands? 

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body? 

“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you. 

“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”

“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around. 

“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself. 

“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode. 

“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!” 

He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room. 

“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?” 

“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind. 

“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare. 

“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you. 

“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on. 

Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.” 

“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat. 

Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now. 

“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling. 

“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily. 

Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time. 

“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.

Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”

“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground. 

“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?” 

“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be. 

“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”  

“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him. 

“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!” 

“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation. 

“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”

“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return. 

“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean. 

“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”

“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again. 

“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”

“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face. 

“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.” 

“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room. 

You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes. 

“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression. 

“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you. 

“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 

“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!” 

“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.” 

“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.” 

“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.” 

“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish. 

With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen. 

“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”

“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?” 

“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”

“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!” 

“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!” 

“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”

“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.” 

“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!” 

“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen. 

“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table. 

Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.” 

Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort. 

Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze. 

“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head. 

Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite. 

“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food. 

The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere. 

“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin. 

You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?” 

“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?” 

“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?” 

“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.

After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t. 

“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly. 

You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier. 

“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.

“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile. 

“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.” 

“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving. 

You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle. 

“You alright?” you asked tentatively. 

“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one. 

“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.” 

“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better. 

He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 

“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation. 

He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.” 

“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word. 

You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.

“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table. 

“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration. 

“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”

“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.” 

“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return. 

You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.” 

Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”

“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation. 

“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.” 

You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk. 

“What does that mean?” you asked curiously. 

“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.” 

“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”

You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.

“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you. 

“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively. 

You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.” 

“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.” 

“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically. 

“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.” 

“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.” 

“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.” 

“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly. 

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.” 

“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off. 

“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.” 

“Promise?” you asked meekly. 

“I promise,” he said firmly.

“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further. 

“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears. 

“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly. 

“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.

The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.

You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on. 

“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously. 

“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question. 

You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this. 

“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter. 

The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you. 

Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”

Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake. 

The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day. 

You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there. 

You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam. 

You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything. 

The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore. 

Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out. 

You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either. 

“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs. 

“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat. 

Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.” 

“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion. 

“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?” 

“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.

“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” 

“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”

You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave. 

“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you. 

“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards. 

“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?” 

“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.” 

Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”

“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.” 

“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”

“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words. 

“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward. 

“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response. 

“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.” 

“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.

“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.” 

You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name. 

“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.” 

You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you? 

“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.” 

“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps. 

“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker. 

“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.

“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.  

“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently. 

“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly. 

It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated. 

“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.” 

“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation. 

“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?” 

“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her. 

“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation. 

“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly. 

“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.

It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.

“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?” 

“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around. 

“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!” 

Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room. 

“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief. 

“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar. 

You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying. 

“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.

“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.

“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”

“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-” 

“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.

“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.

“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.

“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.

You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room. 

“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by. 

“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car. 

The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him. 

If he ever decided to open the goddamn door. 

“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time. 

You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?” 

You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward. 

He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly. 

“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.” 

He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.” 

“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 

“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.  

“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him. 

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet. 

“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work. 

“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.” 

“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him. 

“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-” 

“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”

“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.

“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”

He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more. 

“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.” 

“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat. 

“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.” 

“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked. 

“We didn’t lie, we just-”

“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”

“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly. 

“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?” 

“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” 

“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?” 

“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.” 

“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess. 

You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?” 

He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?” 

“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.  

“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down. 

“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him. 

“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.  

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?” 

“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more. 

“You said-” 

“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.” 

“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”

“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin. 

“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”

You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low. 

“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.

As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks. 

When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips. 

You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.” 

“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”

tagging: @winharry

dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

He’s Not A Machine!

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist

summary: when dean collapses from exhaustion, it takes everything in you not to beat the shit outta john

pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 4.0k

warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, john being a terrible father, john being an asshole in general but what else is new

pairing note: reader washes/brushes her hair

author’s note: hiiii me again after many moons of zero contact with this lovely website. sorry for taking so long, hopefully i’ll stay a while this time lol.

It’d been nearly four weeks of back-to-back hunts. This was the seventh motel you and the two Winchesters had been at this month and you were almost ready to call it a night. 

“I’m gonna wash this wraith stench off of me,” you told Dean. You then added quietly so John—who was sitting at the table and cleaning his guns—wouldn’t hear; “Would you like to join me, handsome?”

“More than anything,” he whispered before he bent down and kissed you. John coughed loudly, and you weren’t sure if it was just a perfectly timed accident or a purposeful guilt trip. It was most likely the latter. “But… I think it’s better if I don’t, sweetheart.”

You smiled sadly with a small nod; “Next time, then,” you assured him. You looked up into his eyes and noticed the tiredness laced with the usual burden he carried. He blinked unusually slowly as if he was trying his damndest to stay awake, and you furrowed your brows. “How about you head to bed, you can shower after you get some sleep.”

“It’s alright, I’m not that tired,” he said.

“Hey, are you feeling okay?” you asked him, barely above a whisper so that John wouldn’t hear.

John didn’t like you. He didn’t really trust your intentions with his son, and he thought you were just a distraction that would end up getting Dean killed if he wasn’t careful. He didn’t like how easily Dean would get ‘all giggly’ when he was near you, and he didn’t like that his son kept his guard down when he was with you.

He didn’t like the matching rings you wore, or that you too often referred to the other as husband or wife when a stranger would ask. You weren’t married, you were his fucking girlfriend and John fully believed you wouldn’t still be together by the time Sam finished his first four years at Stanford. 

“I’m fine,” he replied, matching your quiet tone. “I’ll shower right after you so don’t use up all the hot water, okay?” There was a teasing smirk on his face which made your worries subside temporarily.

“I promise to leave you some,” you said before you kissed him once more.

**

“Dean are you okay?” you asked, seeing the far-off look in his eyes when you left the bathroom.

“Yeah, I uh…” He rubbed his eyes as he tried to again focus on your face. He looked over at his dad, who raised a brow at his eldest son. “I’m fine, sweetheart.”

You followed his line of sight and pursed your lips when you saw John.

“Dean says he’s fine, drop it Y/n,” he told you.

Against your better judgment, you decided not to ask Dean again. With your hair still wet from the shower, you took the brush from your bag and started fixing it. 

“Aren’t you gonna shower, babe?” you asked Dean, who hadn’t moved an inch.

“Uh, yeah,” he said. He started to kick off his shoes when he tripped and fell straight to the floor, his cheek now pressed against the carpet.

“Dean!?” you exclaimed and hurried over to him. You fell to your knees and took him into your arms, shaking him gently in hopes he’d just wake up. “Dean? Dean, honey, please? J-John he’s not waking up!” You pressed your lips to his temple; “C’mon, Dean!”

John had left his spot on the couch and was now hovering over you, as you looked up at him desperately.

“Is he breathing?”

“Yeah,” you replied, tears slipping down your cheeks. John helped you lay Dean down so he could check his breathing.

“He seems fine,” John deduced. “Is there a wound we missed or something?”

“W-We need to call an ambulance,” you said and rushed to grab your phone off the nightstand.

“Y/n, Dean wouldn’t want us to call the cops,” John replied. He seemed a little too calm for your liking, so you weren’t about to let him call the shots regarding Dean’s wellbeing.

“I don’t care, we’re getting him to the fucking hospital,” you said as you dialed and made your way back to Dean. “Now hide your goddamn guns before the paramedics get here—I need an ambulance at the Rosebud Motel room 302, my husband just collapsed unexpectedly.” You ignored the look John gave you when you called Dean that. The operator asked questions and you answered each one; “Yes, he’s breathing… No, no bleeding… He’s twenty-five… Uhm, I’m not sure…” You pulled the phone from your ear; “Has he had anything to drink yet tonight?”

John was putting away the guns and paused to think before he shrugged; “I dunno, I wasn’t watching.” 

Your eyes widened and your teeth clenched, the fucking audacity. Looking at the table you saw three opened beers so you made an educated guess when you answered the 9-1-1 operator.

“He might’ve had a beer or two, but he’s not a lightweight, he’d never pass out after two beers… Yes, his dad is in the room with me… Yes, I can stay on the line.” You took in a shaky breath as you brought his hand to your lips and kissed his knuckles. 

“Just stay calm, ma’am, help is on the way.”

“I’m trying,” you replied, tears streaming down your cheeks as you kept his hand pressed to your lips. “Th-This isn’t like him, he’s–he’s always okay.”

**

You bounced your leg anxiously as you sat next to John in the waiting room. As you absentmindedly played with the ring on your right ring finger, you couldn’t help but think of the time when Dean had told you how much you truly meant to him almost three years ago.

* flashback *

“I got you a present.” His smile was adorable as he sat next to you on the couch. He saw your face light up and felt the need to downplay the gift; “It’s nothing much, don’t get too excited.”

“Dean, you could give me a dirty sock and I’d love it,” you teased, placing a quick kiss on his pink lips.

“Well… this is like one teer above ‘dirty sock’, I think.” He smirked and handed you the small velvet box. 

You opened it and your jaw fell open; “Oh my god, Dean!”

“I know how much you like mine,” he said quietly.

“I do like yous,” you took his right hand in yours and kissed the ring on his finger, “I love yours, Dean.”

“Well, this one is exactly like mine.” He smiled. “Except it’s in your size, obviously, so we can… you know… match.” You took the ring out of the box and admired it for a moment. You were about to put it on but he stopped you; “May I do the honors, sweetheart?” he asked. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped your lips as you nodded and he took it from you. He slipped the ring onto your right ring finger before he kissed your hand. 

“I mean this in the most genuine way possible; this is by far the best gift anyone has ever gotten me, Dean! Ever!”

A sheepish blush was forming on his cheeks as he leaned over and kissed your lips; “I love you so much.” He pulled away so he could look at you; “And, I want you to know this isn’t a regular gift.”

“Yeah?” you asked, your smile growing. 

“Yeah,” he replied and kissed you again. When he pulled away again he chickened out a little and didn’t say what he was going to. “You’re twenty-one, which means you can now legally drink in all fifty states.” He stood up, pulling on your hand gently so you would follow him to the kitchen. He took two beers out of the fridge and put them on the table. He used the ring on his finger to easily open one then handed the other to you. “Why don’t you give it a try.”

It took you a few tries but you managed to open the beer using the ring he just gave you; “Okay, now that’s awesome!”

“Happy birthday, sweetheart!” Dean said and you clinked your beers together before you both started drinking them. As he brought the bottle down from his lips, he watched as you kept drinking and smiled to himself. He suddenly felt the courage he felt when he bought the ring and decided to tell you his thoughts; “You know you’re the only girl for me, right?” You nodded with a smile. “I don’t just mean ‘for now’ I mean like forever. That’s the real meaning behind the ring, I love you and I want to be with you for the rest of our lives.”

You couldn’t help the happy tears beginning to sting your eyes as you looked up at him; “Forever?”

“Forever.”

* end of flashback *

You were shaken back to cruel reality by the sound of John’s voice beside you; “What’s taking them so long? We’ve gotta get back on the fuckin’ road.”

“Are you fucking serious right now?” you scoffed and looked at him. “Dean might be in serious trouble, and you’re thinking about the next hunt!?”

“Dean’s gonna be fine.” He rolled his eyes.

“We don’t know that,” you replied. You again started fiddling with the ring Dean had given to you.

“You know that ring doesn’t make you two husband and wife,” John commented. 

You stood up abruptly, not wanting to say what was running through your head; Yeah, and Dean being so fucking perfect doesn’t make you a good father.

“Dean Smith’s next of kin?” the doctor asked. 

“I’m his wife, this is his dad,” you said. “H-How is he?”

“He’ll be fine,” she replied. “He has a very minor concussion from when his head hit the floor, but he just needs some rest.”

“What happened?” John asked. 

“He fainted from over-exhaustion, he’s gonna be okay.”

“Over-exhaustion?” You furrowed your brows, placing a hand over your chest. “B-But he’s been eating fine? A-And sleeping as much as me, I think?”

“Actually,” John interrupted, “he’s been helping me with research at night, he doesn’t sleep as much as you.” 

Never in your life had you wanted to knee John Winchester in the balls as badly as you wanted to at that moment.

“How many hours a night are you sleeping, hun?” the doctor asked you.

“Like three to five… every other night,” you admitted. “And that’s always been enough! If it wasn’t, Dean could’ve just taken a nap he didn’t have to—fuck.”

“Can we see him?” John asked.

“He’s still asleep but yes, you can go and see him,” she replied.

On the way to Dean’s room, you kept wondering how this all happened—how did Dean get so fucking tied he collapsed!? If he was staying up at night, why didn’t he just sleep in the car? You would’ve happily driven Baby, and it’s not like you hadn’t done that before—Dean’s love language was sharing that fucking car.

“This hasn’t ever happened before, right?” you asked John. 

“Never,” he replied. “Guess Dean’s just not as strong as he used to be.”

“Excuse me?” you seethed and stopped in your tracks, pulling John to a halt as well. “Dean is a fucking hero but he is not a machine, he’s a fucking human being who’s been treated like a soldier since he was six-fucking-years-old!”

“If you wanna say something, fucking say it!” John exclaimed. 

“Oh, I am saying it! How fucking dare you work him so hard that he lands in the fucking emergency room!”

“We all know in this line of work, we have to do what we have to do!”

You slapped him hard across the face and your eyes widened when you realized what you did. 

“Dean is your son,” you said, quickly changing your facial expression back into one of pure rage. “He is your fucking child and you’ve been treating him like shit for far too long. He deserves better, he doesn’t deserve to be so fucking exhausted that he collapses.”

You walked away and into Dean’s room. Seeing him lying in the hospital bed made your heart break as tears welled in your eyes. 

“Oh god,” you mumbled. “Dean.” You quickly pulled up a chair so you could sit next to his bed and patiently wait for him to wake up. John did the same, though he seemed annoyed by the fact Dean was still asleep. 

You weren’t sure how long had passed before John got fed up; “Can you press the button for the nurse so we can ask when he’s supposed to wake up?”

“I think we should just let him sleep, don’t you?” you whispered, not knowing if Dean had been sedated or if he was just resting like normal.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion, I told you to call the damn nurse,” he said, raising his voice which caused Dean to stir awake.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean said groggily, his eyes half-hooded as he brought your hand to his lips and placed a kiss on your knuckles. He then dropped your hand and rubbed his eyes to wake himself up. “This isn’t the motel,” he realized. He noticed John sitting at the other side of the bed and he sat up a little, trying to somewhat compose himself. “Wh-What happened?”

“I’ll fill you in,” John said. “Y/n, why don’t you go grab us some coffee so I can talk with my son?”

All your instincts told you not to leave the two Winchesters alone but what choice did you have? You didn’t want to start another fight with John, you were tired too, and you didn’t want Dean worrying.

“Yeah, sure,” you said. You took the time to bend down and place a loving kiss on Dean’s forehead, causing him to smile. “No coffee for you though, you need more sleep,” you told him before you left the room. 

About ten minutes later you walked back in and the sight practically made your eyes bulge out of your skull as your jaw flew open. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” you asked and placed the two cups to the side. 

“Dad said there’s a hunt,” Dean said matter-of-factly. “I can sleep in the car or something, let’s go.” He started to stand up so you pushed him back down. 

“How fucking dare you!” you exclaimed at John, who stood on the other side of the bed. “How dare you tell him to suit up right now! He is staying here in this hospital, and he is getting some goddamn sleep!”

“That is not your decision,” John replied. “If Dean says he’s fine, then he’s fine.”

“You realize those are the exact words you said to me before your son collapsed, right?” you scoffed. “Dean lay back down now,” you told him as you began taking his boots off. “You are staying here for the night, you understand me?”

“Don’t you boss him around!” John exclaimed. “Dean and I are leaving here now.”

“You can leave if you want to, but Dean is staying put!” you replied, matching his tone. 

“No, he is not!” John yelled. 

You’d never fought with John like this, usually yelling and getting yelled at made your eyes tear up in the most inconvenient way. But this? Dean’s health? You were not about to back down. Not one single tear dared to appear in your eyes as you looked at John with such anger you wanted to slap him across the face… again.

“Why don’t we get a third opinion?” you suggested.

“Yeah, Dean, do you wanna sit here like a pussy or do you wanna go save some fucking lives?” John turned to look at him.

“Don’t answer that,” you said quickly. “I meant, let’s call the nurse and see what they have to say about it.”

Before John could protest, you walked over and pressed the button. It took half a minute—during which you and John stared daggers at each other—but soon the nurse walked in.

“How is everyone?” she asked, noticing the tension in the room.

“Do you think this young man here can leave yet? He’s doing fine and wants to go home,” John said. 

“Let me check his chart,” she replied before doing so. “I would have to no, he should definitely stay here and get some much-needed rest.”

“Is there a doctor—” John started but you stopped him.

“Goddamn it John!” you scoffed. “He is not leaving!” 

“You are not his fucking family!” John shouted, much louder than before. “I am! You aren’t his wife, you aren’t his sister, you aren’t his fucking mother—you are just his current girlfriend, and believe me that’ll fucking change in a heartbeat. You are not in charge of what Dean does, you are not family.” There was a short pause as your eyes brimmed with tears yet you refused to let them fall. John sighed and continued; “I am Dean’s father, I know what’s best for him, and I say he’s packing his things and getting the hell outta here.”

The nurse looked absolutely shocked, her jaw hanging open. The look John gave her made her hurry out of the room.

“Dad,” Dean said, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Dad, you can yell at me all you want, I’m your kid but…” He exhaled shakily as John turned to look at him with a frustrated look. “But you can’t talk to her like that, you just can’t. You might not think of her as family but that’s on you, she is a part of my family, Dad. And yeah, we might not be legally married or whatever but she’s not just my current girlfriend? She basically is my wife, we’re not just… dating?” Dean looked at his father with a sense of desperation, John just had to apologize and you could all drop it. Of course, John, being a stubborn bastard, held his ground and crossed his arms authoritatively. “I-If you aren’t gonna take back what you just said to her y-you can go on this next hunt alone.”

“Excuse me?” John scoffed. 

“You heard me,” Dean replied. “She’s everything to me and I can’t sit idly by while you talk to her like that.”

“So you’re talkin’ back to me now? Like Sammy?” John asked. “Refusing to take orders?”

“This isn’t about me, Dad!” Dean said, his face twisted with guilt. “You know I follow any orders you give, that I’m quick to obey. But you saying Y/n isn’t family? I-I’m sorry but I can’t let that slide, Dad.”

John huffed and abruptly left the room.

“I’m sorry,” you said to Dean the moment John was out of earshot.

“Me too.” Dean smiled sadly as you both wiped your eyes quickly.

“Why don’t we get these jeans off of you so you can be more comfortable?” you suggested patting his shin.

His brows shot up; “Really? Here? Now?”

“Dean, no!” you chuckled, shaking your head. “I meant comfortable so you can go to sleep!”

“Oh…yeah, that makes more sense.” His trademark cocky smile was back and that made your own smile return to your now tear-stained face.

“I’m serious about you staying put, you know.” You nodded toward his pants and he got the message. 

“You can be real stubborn, you know that?” he laughed as he hurried and slipped his pants off. You folded them up and put them on the chair along with his belt. He shrugged off his jacket and you tossed it on top of where the pants sat. 

“Get under the covers,” you said. He rolled his eyes playfully but he obliged nonetheless. 

“Happy?” He smiled when he was comfortable in the bed. 

You nodded; “I love you, Dean.” You leaned down and placed a kiss on his lips, causing his smile to turn more genuine. 

“Hey,” the doctor interrupted as she walked into the room, “Nurse Roberts just told me about the little outburst… everything okay in here?”

“Yeah, just a little misunderstanding is all,” you replied. “But it’s all settled—Dean’s staying the night.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said with a smile. “I’ve gotta be honest I’ve never seen anything like this.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, clearly anxious about her statement.

“I just meant that your husband is very healthy,” she assured you; “I’ve never seen a young, healthy man like him just collapse from over-exhaustion.”

“First time for everything I guess,” Dean laughed nervously.

You glared at him; “Not funny, babe.”

“She’s right,” the doctor backed you up. “Now, whatever you’ve been doing recently that caused you to lose this much sleep, get this stressed you need to quit it right here, right now.”

“It’s our job, we can’t just… quit,” you said. “But I will definitely keep a closer eye on him from now on, make sure he’s getting enough sleep.”

“You can’t put this all on her, you understand me, Mr. Smith?” She looked at Dean before he nodded shyly. “Mrs. Smith you need to fix your own sleeping habits as well — if you both don’t smarten up and take better care of yourselves, you will definitely be right back here before the end of the year. You got that?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Dean said. 

“Good.” She nodded. “Now, I’m gonna give you a small dose of a mild sedative to help you fall asleep, alright?” She said as she made her way over to Dean’s IV bag to give him the sedative. “You ripped this out the second you woke up, didn’t you?” She asked him when she realized the needle was no longer in his arm. “You two, I swear!” She started preparing to simply inject Dean with the sedative but you stopped her.

“Is there maybe like a pill equivalent to what you’re giving him? He doesn’t really like needles,” you said. 

“There is, would you prefer that?” she asked Dean, and he nodded vigorously. “Alright, I’ll go and grab that for you then. Mrs. Smith the chair in the corner folds out into a small bed if you two don’t want to share one.”

“Oh, that’s alright, I’m not tired,” you said. 

She gave you a look; “Seriously? Hun, what did we just talk about?”

“I get that, but I know Dean’s not gonna sleep properly if he doesn’t feel safe.”

“This is a hospital, it’s safe,” she said. 

“Sorry,” you said with a small shrug, and again she sighed.

At that moment, John decided to walk back into the room, making your breath hitch a little before the doctor left to get the meds for Dean. 

“It’s alright, you two get some sleep; I’ll keep watch,” he said as he made his way over to the chair and sat down. 

“You sure, dad? I thought you said there was a job nearby?” Dean asked. 

John looked at you and smiled ever-so-slightly. Maybe it was something you had said to him, maybe John didn’t want you being alone with Dean while he was so weak, or maybe there never was a job and he didn’t have anything better to do than stay with his son. 

For whatever reason, John Winchester sighed and answered; “You’re more important, Dean. Your safety is more important. Now quit whining and get some sleep.”

Dean pulled the covers back, silently asking you to join him in the bed and, of course, you obliged. You gave him a quick kiss on the lips before getting comfortable in his arms.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he said, kissing your temple. 

“I love you more,” you replied, making him let out a soft laugh. 

“You always gotta one-up me, huh?” he chuckled. 

“Uh-huh,” you giggled. His arms tightened around your frame as he tucked your head under his chin. John couldn’t help but feel a twinge of guilt for treating not only you but his own son so poorly. Every time John saw Dean be this relaxed and happy, you were always the cause. Maybe that wasn’t such a bad thing.

By the time the doctor got back about seven minutes later, you and Dean were both fast asleep; the latter letting out snores that gently moved your hair with each breath. She smiled a little at the sight and decided to duck back out of the room so as not to wake you two.

[jays-bonnie-on-the-side]

FIRST TIME

PAIRING : teenage!dean winchester x teenage!fem!reader (au)

SUMMARY : reader finally decides to give her virginity to dean

WARNINGS : young love. fluff. smut. horniness. cunnilingus. fingering. under-aged sex. rough sex. semi-pubic sex. unprotected p in v. aftercare. attentive dean. strong language. praise kink.

A/N : this oneshot is a prequal to homework [if you haven't read it yet, go check it out!] thank you to everyone who's read and supported it, it means the world. i plan on making a few more oneshots (that could be read on its own) in this universe. let me know what you think 😆

Your eight-month anniversary with Dean was today. In a (good) way, it felt longer. Growing up, you were taught to respect your body. You were told to wait for marriage before having a man worship at your temple. It was "the best gift you could give your husband," at least that's what they said. Until now, you haven't had a problem waiting. Sure, you had urges from time to time like any teenager, but no one had made you feel how you felt with Dean.

The longer you spent with him, the more you craved. It wasn't just his physical attributes but his personality, too. Every exchange of words, every shared moment, and every heartfelt conversation only entrenched your love even further. It was the way he protected you, cared for you, and loved you that made you feel safe. Until you, he had no interest in dating. Why would he when all he wanted from girls was something they offered him freely?

You had been the first girl ever to deny him, and that's what drew him in. He wasn't looking for a relationship, but hearing the word 'no' intrigued him. Suddenly, finding ways to get your attention was his priority. Whether it was meeting you at your locker every morning with flowers, seeing you after school to offer you a ride home, or even cornering your best friend for help winning you over, he didn't stop. It wasn't until you overhead your peers discuss how Dean dismissed any girl who engaged with him that you took him seriously.

And there he was again, at your locker, with the brightest bouquet of tulips, your favorite. His charming smile beams towards you, filling you with joy from across the hall. Students pass by, talking amongst themselves about you. "Watch, she's going to blow him off again." "How could she do that? He's so hot." "He's only trying to win her over to get in her pants. She's not even that cute." Even though it wasn't in your nature to ignore them, you chose not to cause a scene, not with them anyway.

A smile lit up your face as you focused on Dean. "Hey," You greet once you're standing before him.

"Hey, beautiful," You couldn't help but blush at the pet name, loving how it sounded coming from his mouth.

He hands you the flowers, and you happily accept them. "Thank you."

"You're welcome." He leans against the locker beside yours, watching you open your own. You inhaled the bouquet before gently placing the tulips inside. "I'm sure I know the answer to this, but would you like to go out sometime?"

You close your locker and stare into his dreamy eyes as you reply, "I'd love to."

His face lit up like a kid on Christmas. It seemed he was ready for you to turn him down again, and as much as he wanted, he didn't expect you to say yes. He leaned away from the lockers as a smile stretched across his face. His infectious smile brought one of your own. You always imagined saying those words to him, and now that you did, it was better than you had dreamed it would be.

"Really? T-that's great! Does tonight work?"

"Yeah, tonight's perfect."

"Awesome, I'll pick you up at eight."

You weren't a bold person, but you couldn't resist standing on your toes to plant a kiss on his cheek. Your hand rests against his arm, maintaining your balance as your lips press against his face. Even though your gesture was small, he closed his eyes and enjoyed your lingering kiss. You slowly pull away and lean back on your heels. The passing crowd seemed to still at the publicly displayed affection. Hush conversations began as everyone gawked at you two. Before doubt could seep in, Dean grasped your attention.

"Don't listen to them."

You nodded, listening to his words and ignoring the others. "I'll see you tonight."

The Impala comes to a soft halt in the middle of the grassy field like it did all those nights ago. A smile appears when you realize he's recreating your first date. Dean had taken you to his favorite diner in town as the sun had set before coming here. The pur of the engine ceases, and his door creaks open. You've learned over the months to wait for your boyfriend rather than exiting Baby by yourself. Despite your protests, he insisted on being the gentleman his parents raised him to be, someone he was, only with you.

Dean helps you onto the hood, then joins. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side. Your backs lean against the windshield, heads tilted towards the night sky. Stars litter the dark canvas above, shining as bright as the first time he brought you. A warm breeze blew through the trees, over the open field, and towards the Impala. Crickets play their song as the rustle of leaves hum from afar. It was a scene out of a romance novel.

A content smile found its home on your face. You didn't need to talk to feel comfortable with him and were confident he felt the same. Being in his presence alone filled you with a sense of safety. Dean has had his share of fights defending you, whether you wanted him to or not. He never gave you a reason to doubt him, and you knew deep in your soul that wouldn't change. That's why you decided tonight was the night you'd give yourself to him completely.

Tearing your gaze from the stars, you direct your admiration towards your boyfriend. Feeling your stare, he turns his undivided attention towards you. You lean forward and connect your lips with his. He doesn't waste a moment to kiss you back with just as much passion. His hand runs through your hair, sending tingling sensations across your scalp. You breathe him in, quickly accepting his tongue. He leans over your body, deepening the kiss. Eager for more, you push him back against the windshield and straddle his hips. Your ass grinds against his lap, and he pulls your hair, breaking the kiss, only to attach his mouth to your neck.

Small moans escape your peppered throat, the light breeze carrying them away. The feeling of Dean's growing member rubbing against your entrance made you apathetic toward the marks he was leaving behind. You'd happily deal with the evidence later. Your eyes squeeze shut as the friction becomes overwhelming. Shallow breaths leave your lungs as tension quickly builds in the pit of your stomach.

With one hand on the back of your head and the other at the bottom of your spine, he lays you across on the hood. He hovers over your body before continuing the actions from before. Dean harshly rubs his bulging jeans against yours, and your legs wrap around his hips to pull him closer. Your body clings to his, only encouraging him to grind harder. Desperation gets the best of you when your walls clench around nothing.

"I need you," You breathe out.

Dean stops his movements and stares into your eyes, asking, "What?"

"I need you—I want you."

"A-are you sure?" He inquires as he rises to a seated position.

"Yes, D." You sit too and reassure him. "I've been thinking about it for a while now. What better time than on our anniversary?"

He hesitates but says, "Sweetheart, I'm sorry. I didn't expect—I would've planned it out if I knew you were ready. I imagined our first time—your first time—to be perfect. Not in the back seat of my car; You mean so much more than that."

"I know, but it can still be perfect."

"How?"

"Well..." You take his hand in yours, squeezing gently. "I think losing my virginity to the boy I love under the stars sounds pretty perfect to me."

"That sounds great, but the 'where' part is still an issue."

You glance around your surroundings before settling with, "Right here."

His eyebrows draw together. "On the hood?"

"Beats the backseat for my first time. And, I don't know, having sex on the hood of the Impala sounds sexier."

A dry chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head. "Does it now?"

"Mhm," You hum as you scoot closer.

He inhales sharply once you gently press your lips against his throat, instantly finding his sweet spot. Because your relationship hadn't gone further than second base, you both had gotten pretty good at teasing each other. You had to admit, there were a few times when you almost caved out of sheer lust. But tonight was different: you were ready. A grin plays on your lips as your other hand trails down to his tightening jeans. Groans fall from his mouth as you palm his erection and sink your teeth into his sensitive skin.

Your hand undoes his pants, and before you can slip your hand in, he lays you back down. His lips capture yours, and you quickly move in sync. You pull his shirt up, hinting you wanted it off. He complies and pulls it over his head, tossing it to the ground. As he kneels in front of you, you pull his jeans down and see his boner through the fabric of his boxers.

After discarding his pants, he reaches for yours to peel them off. As he did that, you quickly took your shirt off. You were both now in your undergarments, staring hungrily at one another. He hovers over you and kisses down your neck towards your chest. Your body goes hot, growing hornier by the second. His fingers drag the straps of your bra off your shoulders as his mouth places wet kisses on the top of your breasts. You arch your back, giving him access to unhook your bra.

The outline of his cock presses into your clit, distracting you from your unruly thoughts. His warm tongue finds your left nipple, licking it before taking it into his mouth and gently sucking. He doesn't leave the right one unoccupied for long. His fingers lightly pinch and twist your hardened nipple. You close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure his mouth, fingers, and dick are creating. The intensity of his member grinding against your clit and the stimulation of both your nipples were driving you to the edge. Suddenly, his mouth unlatches itself from you, causing you to open your eyes in confusion.

Dean's large hands run down your thighs, sending goosebumps along your skin. His fingers loop around the waistband of your underwear, and before he goes further, he silently asks if it's okay. You nod and watch as he pries your soaked panties from your body. Instinctively, you try closing your legs, feeling insecure. Flush ran throughout your entire body. You had never been this intimate with someone, and it was frightening. He detects your lack of confidence and promptly makes you feel comfortable.

"You're so beautiful." He praises. "So much better than I ever imagined."

His fingertips lightly ran over your skin as if he were afraid to hurt you. They cupped the back of your knees and gently lifted until they bent. Dean slowly kisses down your thighs, and between each peck, he compliments you. You feel your insecurity disappear the closer he gets to your most intimate area. Without wasting another moment, his face devours your pussy as if he were a starved man. You arch your back as he licks your cunt clean, skillfully working through your folds. Your eyes roll back once his nose presses against your clit. Before you knew what was happening, you came all over his tongue.

"Oh, God," you pant with embarrassment. "I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to—I didn't know I was gonna cum so fast."

Dean lifts his head from between your thighs, the area around his mouth glossy with your juice. "Don't ever apologize, you got it?" After you nod, he dips down again, slurping up every last trace of your arousal, humming, "You taste so fucking good, princess."

You tug at his hair, squirming underneath his face. His thumb finds your bundle of nerves, rubbing it in circles, making your body unexpectedly jerk. You watch as he removes his countenance and trails kisses up your body. He lays on his side next to you before tucking his arm around your shoulders. The beating of your heart quickens as he applies the right amount of pressure you didn't know your clit needed. Your hips buck upwards while a whine slips past your lips, wanting more.

His fingers travel further down, running through your glistening folds. You knew what came next, the anticipation deafening. Slowly, he slides his index finger inside you. A content sigh falls from your mouth, enjoying how his digit drives in and out of your cunt. Dean sees your pleased and lazy smile, and a smirk emerges on his lips before adding another finger. You inhale deeply, feeling the difference between one and two fingers. It doesn't take long before his thick fingers pleasure you once again.

You bite your lip to stifle your moans, not wanting to annoy your boyfriend with your uncontrollable squeals. He notices and mumbles against the side of your mouth, "Let it out, princess. I want to hear every little sound you make."

That was all you needed to hear. Dean's fingers worked faster, taking you near the edge, and your moans told him so. They grow louder with each thrust, but the moment his fingers curled, you lost it. Your hand grabbed his hair, holding on as he fingered your g-spot. The muscles in your stomach contract, and you get that feeling again; your climax begins. You close your legs, thighs wrapping around his arm, making the high intensify. His consistency doesn't falter, and his digits fuck you, only taking you higher. Once it ends, your legs fall, and he pulls his hand away.

Your chest rises and falls, trying to catch your breath. Dean brings his drenched hand to his mouth, his eyes finding yours before closing his lips around his fingers and pulling them out at an agonizingly slow pace. Fuck, you thought. Watching him suck your fluids from his digits alone could've made you cum again. Your left-hand slips into his boxers before wrapping around his erection. A small groan falls from his lips, having never been touched like this by you. Without having to see his length, you felt it was rather long. You pumped his silky soft cock a few times and felt him twitch. His previously soaked hand pulls off his remaining clothing, freeing his large member. Your eyes widen; He's much bigger than you imagined.

How was he going to fit? You wonder. He saw the worry in your eyes and ran his fingers through your hair, pushing it away from your face before kissing the tip of your nose. Dean gently grasped the hand that held him and intertwined your fingers together as he hovered over you. He nudges your knees apart, and you happily allow him between your legs. This was it. This was what you both have been waiting—what felt like anyway—an eternity for. Your mind was ready, but you weren't sure if your body was.

"It's going to be okay, sweetheart," Dean reassures. "I'll go as slow as you need."

You nod, intoxicated by his affectionate attentiveness. "Okay."

His lips connect with yours, kissing your nerves away. He rubs his tip through your folds, coating it with your wetness. You break apart and angle your head to watch his cock disappear in your awaiting pussy. The pain as he stretches your walls rips through your body, forcing your eyes shut. Your face scrunches in discomfort as he pushes in further. Whines come from your mouth as he slowly bottoms out. Dean stays still, kissing your forehead as you adjust to his size.

"I know, princess, I'm sorry. I promise it'll feel better."

You nod in response. Soon, your eyes open as the pain becomes tolerable, whispering, "Okay, you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

Dean's eyes scan over your countenance, trying to detect any lies. When he saw none, he began to move. You inhale sharply as the pain rushes back. His hips stop their retraction, but you quickly shake your head in protest.

"Keep going," You say through gritted teeth.

Without question, he pulls back until his tip threatens to slip out. Slowly, he drives back in. You squeeze his hand and wrap the other around his shoulder as your legs cling to his torso. His lips pepper your face with kisses as he continues to thrust the discomfort away. Over the months, you've seen the womanizer everyone knew Dean as vanish. He always took care of you—physically, mentally, and emotionally. You couldn't have asked for a better boyfriend, especially right now. His effort to soothe you seemed to have worked. The pain turned to pleasure, and you ached for more.

"Faster," You murmur into his ear.

He bit his lip, trying to distract himself from spilling his cum so soon, but the way your walls squeezed around him made it nearly impossible. Dean picks up his speed, playing his own game of russian roulette. You felt his cock twitch inside you, prompting a moan and the tightening of your insides. He buries his head into your neck, attempting to postpone his climax. The pleasure began to build in your stomach, and per his earlier request, you made it known.

"Fuck, babe. If you keep it up, I'm going to cum." He groans.

You giggle, "Isn't that the point?"

He thrusts deeper, answering, "Not until you do."

A new wave of satisfaction washes over your body, making you moan louder, begging, "Harder."

Dean complies, bucking his hips into the back of your thighs. His name fell from your lips like a prayer. You untangle your hand from his and dig your nails into his back. Sure, you had daydreamed of having sex with your boyfriend hundreds of times, but you never imagined it being this mind-blowing. His member deliciously bruises your g-spot, causing pain and pleasure to fight for dominance. Sounds you never thought you could make fall from your mouth, encouraging him to quicken his pace. The Impala rocked side to side, utilizing the suspension's swaybar with each vigorous thrust.

"Fuck, Dean. Just like that, baby. Don't stop." You beg between moans.

The tension in your belly threatened to snap any second. The area just under his waist rubs against your clit, coercing your chest to arch into his. He presses you into the warm hood, keeping your squirming to a minimum. Tears flood your eyes as your immense climax approaches. Your body tenses as it braces for your last orgasm, squeezing Dean's phallus for dear life.

"Cum on my cock, princess." He urges as he fights off his own release. "I know you can do it. Mm... 'Want to feel you come undone on my dick. C'mon, sweetheart, do it for me."

His words were all you needed to fall over the edge. Except you didn't fall, you flew. Your fluids gushed on his member as you screamed into the night air. His thrusts began to falter, but he forced himself to ride you through your high. Your toes curl while your eyes roll back, your climax taking control of your body.

Unable to fight off his orgasm any longer, he hurriedly asks, "Where do you want it?"

You can barely form words as your body shakes uncontrollably. "D-d-does-n't ma-tter."

The weight of Dean's body lifts from yours as he sits back, pulling himself out and grabbing his wet member. Your eyes refocus in time to see him accidentally ejaculate on your folds. His cock twitches again, this time spraying across your upper body. A breathy groan falls from his parted lips as ropes of hot cum coat your skin. You feel his seed drip towards your entrance, daring to breed life with you. The thought of carrying his child brings a smile to your face. No, no. You're too young, you remind yourself. Can't start a family with him yet. He bends over your body and kisses your lips. He presses his softening dick against your wet folds as you kiss him back.

"As much as I love bathing in your cum, I think I wanna clean up so we can cuddle." You pant, trying to catch your breath on the way down from your high.

He chuckles against your lips before sitting up again. "I'll be right back."

Dean climbs off the Impala and opens the back door. You lay still as the fluids threaten to leak onto the hood. He shuts the door, returning with a blanket in one hand and napkins and a water bottle in the other. He sets the blanket on the windshield before hopping next to you. He wipes the mess away and uses the water to remove the stickiness left behind. Once he finished cleaning you up, he tossed the dirty napkins off the car. He lays beside you and wraps his arm around your shoulders. You snuggle into his bare chest, listening to the beat of his heart as he pulls the blanket around you two.

He stares at the night sky, gazing at the stars, when you confess, "I love you."

Your boyfriend kisses the top of your head, mumbling against your hair, "I love you too, sweet pea."

"Thank you for being my first."

His hand gently lifts your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "Thank you for trusting me to be your first."

Your lips curl into a smile, "I wouldn't have it any other way."

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[thedensworld]

I Can Fight | J.Ww

Pairing: Wonwoo x reader

Genre: fluff

Summary: Since you married Jeon Wonwoo, you always considered to not wear revealing clothes. Honestly, Wonwoo doesn't care.

Maestro is definitely Wonwoo's era. My love from him escalates from hundred to limited🤍 god, i need him in my life. However, enjoy this fluffy fluffy wonuuuu🥰

It hasn't even been a year since you tied the knot with Jeon Wonwoo, the heir to a vast conglomerate. He possesses everything one could desire: a top-tier education, a lucrative career, and a prominent place in society. Yet, despite his wealth and status, he insists that you are the center of his universe. You, a mere lecturer at a university owned by his father, never imagined you'd capture the heart of someone like Wonwoo.

Your paths crossed at an event where you represented the university as its youngest dean. Wonwoo's attention was drawn to you instantly, captivated by the calm grace you exuded. The following morning, you were taken aback to find him at the university, seeking you out.

"I have something to discuss with you," he said, his eyes filled with a mixture of determination and something else, something softer.

As he proposed an internship program to benefit the students, the conversation effortlessly shifted from professional to personal. It became evident that his true motive was to get closer to you, to unravel the layers of your being.

You couldn't deny the flutter of excitement in your heart as Wonwoo confessed his ulterior motive. How could you resist someone who pursued you with such sincerity and charm?

Wonwoo's pride in you knew no bounds. He loved to showcase you to his friends and colleagues, boasting about your intelligence and beauty at every opportunity. Being by his side at elite events was both an honor and a responsibility, one that required the perfect attire to match his prestigious status.

As you surveyed the two gowns laid out before you in the bedroom, the weight of the upcoming event pressed upon you. Your current formal attire had already made its rounds, and you couldn't bear the thought of causing Wonwoo any embarrassment by appearing in the same outfit again.

With a heavy sigh, you reached for your phone, dialing Seungkwan's number without hesitation. He was your trusted friend, the one whose fashion sense you relied on for such occasions. But as you questioned his choices, your finger instinctively pointed towards the more daring of the two gowns—a black off-shoulder number with a thigh-high slit.

"What were you thinking with these options?" you inquired, your voice laced with a mix of frustration and concern. The other gown, a deep red wine hue, was equally alluring, with its backless design and knee-high slit, presenting a different kind of challenge.

"I thought that's what rich people wear to events like that! It's straight out of the pages of those fancy books!" Seungkwan's voice came through the phone, his defense ringing with a hint of sheepishness.

You took a moment to collect yourself, inhaling deeply before responding. "Do you honestly think I usually wear something like these?" You couldn't help but chuckle, the absurdity of the situation washing over you.

Seungkwan's laughter echoed through the phone. "Of course not. Last time you wore something revealing was when you danced to '10 Minute' at Jeonghan's birthday party in college."

A wistful smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you recalled the carefree days of youth. "And I was so drunk that I slit my skirt and cut my sleeves," you added, shaking your head at the memory.

Seungkwan's tone turned more serious. "Just wear it. You won't embarrass your husband by wearing it. Trust me."

You nervously bit your lip, the weight of Seungkwan's words sinking in. "He's a respected person, Seungkwan. And I'm an academic. Last time I wore something tight, someone actually talked about him."

"No way! What did they say?" Seungkwan's curiosity piqued through the phone.

You let out a weary sigh, memories of the unpleasant encounter resurfacing. "Just that I looked too hot for a professor, and my look didn't match Wonwoo. It was awful, really. I wish I could have stood up to them at the time."

Seungkwan's voice came through with conviction, urging you not to let others dictate your choices. "Darling! Don't let them stop you. What if you are actually too hot? It's their fault they couldn't handle your fire! Stand up to them if someone talks to you like that."

A soft laugh escaped your lips at Seungkwan's fierce encouragement. "You know I can't fight," you admitted, resigned to your non-confrontational nature.

Before you could dwell further on the conversation, the sound of the bedroom door being pushed open interrupted your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat as you turned to see your husband standing there, his presence filling the room with warmth and reassurance.

"Wonwoo just got back from work, I'll let you know my choice. Thanks for getting me these dresses, though," you informed Seungkwan.

Seungkwan hummed in acknowledgment. "Say hi to Wonwoo. I believe he'll choose the black one."

You couldn't help but chuckle at his teasing remark. "Shut up," you retorted playfully before ending the call.

As Wonwoo entered the room, his presence instantly filled the space with comfort and affection. His tie was discarded, and he loosened his blazer before casting a glance at the dresses laid out on the bed.

"Seungkwan got me these for tonight," you explained, gesturing towards the gowns. Wonwoo nodded in understanding as he wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder.

"He has great taste," he murmured softly, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine.

A tender smile graced your lips as he pulled you closer, his embrace providing solace and reassurance. "You'll look good in everything," he added, his words washing over you like a comforting embrace.

You gently touched his arms, leaning into his embrace. "But don't you think they'll be too revealing? I could just wear the one I've already used."

Wonwoo shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "If you want to wear these, then wear them. I think you'll look absolutely gorgeous, whether in revealing clothes or not."

A surge of warmth flooded your chest at his words, his unwavering support comforting you. "However, I would love to see you in them," he added, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.

You raised your eyebrows in surprise, turning your head to meet his gaze. "Really?"

Wonwoo nodded, his expression earnest. "Let's show them that you're hot, just like what Seungkwan said."

Your astonishment grew as you realized he had overheard your conversation with Seungkwan. "From which part did you hear us?" you asked curiously.

"From the start. I actually wanted to surprise you, but you were talking to him," Wonwoo confessed with a sheepish smile.

A moment of silence passed between you before he spoke again. "Actually, I want to thank him for getting you these dresses. I can't wait to see you wear it," he added, his excitement evident in his voice.

He gently withdrew his arms from your waist, turning your body to face him. His hands tenderly moved from your hair to your face, cupping your cheeks and stroking them softly. "I'd love to see you in the black one tonight," he murmured, his voice filled with affection as he pressed a soft kiss to your lips.

A warmth spread through you at his touch and words, reassurance flooding your senses. "Your friend knows me so well," he remarked, planting another kiss on your forehead before trailing down to your shoulder.

His gestures of love and appreciation enveloped you, melting away any lingering doubts or insecurities.

***

You approached Wonwoo where he sat on the couch in the living room, a hint of uncertainty in your gaze. "Isn't it too revealing?" you asked, your voice tinged with self-doubt.

His breath caught in his throat as he took in your breathtaking appearance. The black dress hugged your curves in all the right places, accentuating your beauty in a way that left him speechless. The subtle yet alluring makeup only enhanced your features, drawing his eyes irresistibly to you. And the scent of your perfume, a familiar fragrance that never failed to captivate him, enveloped him in a heady mix of calm and desire.

As your hand moved to cover the revealed thigh, a part of you that he found utterly captivating, Wonwoo couldn't tear his gaze away from you. His heart raced with a jealous fervor, envying his own eyes for having the privilege of beholding your radiance.

"Is it not working?" you questioned, disappointment evident in your tone as he remained silent.

Unable to contain himself any longer, Wonwoo reached out to gently grasp your hand, pulling it away from your thigh. "No, it's not that," he finally managed to say, his voice filled with reverence and admiration. "You look absolutely stunning, beyond words."

Wonwoo sensed your apprehension and immediately shook his head, stepping forward to take your hand and press a tender kiss to it. "I can't believe I'm married to you. You look amazing, love," he murmured, lifting your hand and encouraging you to spin to showcase your dress.

As you twirled, a hint of uncertainty lingered in your mind, but Wonwoo's gasp of awe and promise to buy you countless dresses like the one you wore washed away your worries.

"You can wear anything you want, love. I can fight.," he declared, his words echoing your own inner resolve.

A smile graced your lips as you leaned in to peck his cheek, feeling reassured by his unwavering support. "I'll fight them with my whole life. But kiss me again, here and now," he requested, tapping his lips playfully.

You obliged, landing another gentle kiss, but before you could pull away, Wonwoo's grip on your head tightened, deepening the kiss into a passionate embrace. Lost in the moment, your hands instinctively found their way to his neck, reveling in the intimacy of the kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you.

"Should we skip the event?" he suggested with a mischievous smirk, tempting you with the idea of spending the evening wrapped up in each other's arms.

You playfully slapped his chest, chuckling at his suggestion. "Let's wipe your lips and let me fix my makeup. Seungcheol is going to kill you if we skip his birthday party," you reminded him, handing him a wet wipe.

Wonwoo chuckled as he wiped his mouth clean of your lipstick. "He loves me, he won't kill me," he mumbled before turning his gaze back to you. "So, what do you think?" he asked, anticipation dancing in his eyes as he awaited your response.

[vnti-vntiety-recs]

PAGES OF A HEART (M)

★  PAIRING: HockeyPlayer! Haechan x reader

☆ WORD COUNT: 9k

★ GENRE(S): strangers to lovers, Hate to love, Smut

☆ SUMMARY: You have been begging your campus librarian to let you join the staff for ages, but when she finally lets you on, you’re disappointed to find out that the campus’s star hockey player also joins. Can the two of you work things out after a rough start?

★ ☆ WARNINGS: Sexual intercourse, Unprotected sex, 

☆★ NOTES: Wrap it before you tap it. This was supposed to be fluff but I was weak and had to do hate to lovers. Like lol, I bet no one can guess my favorite trope! Bickering is my love language ¯\_(ツ)_/¯. Leave nice comments, please <3 

Peace, escapism, and silence.

That is what you usually find when you go to the library. You love going to the library, whether it be to study, read or just get away from your normally hectic dorm. Today is different, though; today you will find all of those things and more. 

When you walk into the library, you greet Mrs. Lee as normal. She was the sole staff member of your college's small, cozy library. Mrs. Lee takes immense pride in her job and refuses to work with anyone else. She is very particular about the upkeep of the books, and honestly, you love her for that. The books stay in pristine condition thanks to her care. Even the dean has acknowledged her efforts. Ever since she took over the library, the campus has had to spend less money on maintenance, so he doesn't feel the need pressure her to hire more staff.

The only downside is that if Mrs. Lee gets sick, they’ll have to close the library since there is no one else to run it. Luckily, that hasn't happened yet, but you've made it your life mission to make sure it never does. You love going to the library, and you have been trying to convince her for months to let you join the staff. You weren't even asking for full-time, just maybe on the days she wanted to take some time off. You think you’re making progress; she gave you a “maybe” last week instead of a flat-out no.

You make your way to your favorite spot in the library before someone else gets to it. Normally, you arrive at the library as soon as it opens every day to secure your preferred spot. It's a little overkill because not many students wake up at 7 to make it to the library, but it was close to finals, so you wouldn't be surprised to see a few faces. Today you were only 5 minutes later than usual, but it seems that's all it took. 

Right there, sitting in the nook at the large window in the back corner of the library, is the prettiest man you have ever laid eyes on. The morning light shone over his tan skin like it was honey. His cute, plump lips blow at the messy hair that hangs in his eyes. He shifted his soft brown hair back with his hand before flipping to the next page in his book. 

Speechless.

You couldn't do anything but gawk at the man who sat in your designated seat. Normally, you would have passive-aggressively walked by the person, giving them an evil look, on your way to find somewhere else to sit, but you couldn't even manage that. You were expecting him to catch you with your mouth hanging open, but you caught yourself off guard with what you did next. 

He's struggling again to brush his hair out of his face, and you can't take it anymore. Your feet move before you can think and your hands are not to far behind as they dig in your bag for your spare headband. You kept one of those soft, stretchy headbands in your bag just in case you wanted to keep your hair out of your face.

In just a quick few steps, your standing in front of him, hand outstretched, offering up your headband. When he looks up at you, your breath almost catches. He is so freaking handsome. Before, it was impossible to notice, but his face and neck are covered in the most beautiful beauty marks, resembling stars. Up close, his lips appear soft, and he looks at you with the roundest doe eyes. You will not have this fine man thinking Your a weirdo So you force the air back into your lungs and speak to him.

“I'm sorry, I just thought you might want this... for your hair,” you say awkwardly. 

"Thank you; my coach keeps telling me I should cut it," he says with a soft smile, taking the headband from you. Placing the book down, he raises his hair out of his eyes with the headband. He had such a beautiful face that it should have been illegal for his hair to ever cover it up. You steal a quick peek at the book he was reading while he occupies himself with that. 

Oh Lord, you might actually be in love. He was reading a book by one of your favorite authors. The book he was reading was the final installment in a series you have been reading since high school. The book was actually just published a few months ago. You try so hard not to look like a fangirl, but you figure since he's reading it, he'll understand.

“Oh my God, is that midnight’s crossing? I just finished that book last week. The series is so good I love Vora; she's one of my favorite characters! She had such a well-written character arc in the second book.” You gush on about the book. You don't want to sound like your rambling so you cut your rant short. His soft smile makes you feel comfortable and you return it shyly.

“Yeah, I actually only just picked up the series recently. Normally, I don't have much time to read but I couldnt put the book down. I read the first three books in one month.” Clearly more interested in the conversation than you had initially assumed, he sits up a little straighter. “Vora was an alright character, but I think Theo is a more interesting character. I think that's why I'm really enjoying this book because it centers more on his backstory.” 

Theo!? Maybe your not so in love. Theo wasn't a terrible character, but he was definitely written to appeal to a male audience. Theo’s character was your typical macho man; you didn't really care that much for his story line. 

The poor guy doesn't even know his favorite character was going to get killed off in this book. One would think he would have noticed how strange it was that a minor supporting character would suddenly have a backstory in the series' final book. You had seen this pattern before, and it usually ended up in a character's death

“Theo’s alright,” you say. “He's gonna get a crazy fight sequence near the end.” 

His face lights up, and he shows you a beautiful, toothy grin. “really!? I can't wait; I've been waiting on them to give him a good fight!” 

You almost feel bad for…..”What was your name?”

“Haechan, and you?”

You tell him your name and let him get back to his book. He would soon find out that Theo's grand battle would be his last, and you did not want to stick around for that. It was a small prank in good fun. Sure, he was insanely handsome, but he stole your favorite spot. Not to mention, he thinks your favorite character is mid. You go find another corner and crack open your own book. You read for about 2 hours before you have to scurry off to your morning classes

Wood, leather, ink, and coffee

That's what you smell when you walk into the library saturday morning. You love the smell of the library. It's so earthy and cozy that you can't help but feel at home in the confines of its four walls. 

You got side tracked yesterday but today would be different. Today you were certain you would convince Mrs.Lee to let you check out books on the other side of the counter for once. You stroll in on time, no later than 7 a.m., and march your way over to her desk. 

Before you can even open your mouth to do your weekly pleading, she beats you to it.

“Yes! You can help out!” She huffs exasperatedly. “I only have so many years left to live, and each day you bother me, it's like I'm wasting my last precious moments.” 

Geez, you didn't think you got under Mrs. Lee’s skin that badly. Oh well, it paid off in the end! You were official! You were the only other staff member in the library. You felt so honored; you earned this!

“I would be more than happy, Mrs. Lee! I’ve been waiting for this for months. I won't let you down!” You beam.

Mrs. Lee gives you a warm smile and places a congratulatory hand on your shoulder. “I've been thinking about what you said, and you’re right. I can't stay cooped up in this library forever. I want to start a garden at home, but I’ve never had the time.” 

“That's great! I hope all goes well!” You encourage the older women. "So, when do I start?”

“In just a few moments, actually. I'll need to show you guys around the staff room and  how I like things organized,” she sighs, getting her pen and clipboard ready.

“You guys?” You question. You are praying you heard her incorrectly. Who else could Mrs. Lee trust enough to help run the library? Hell, as far as you knew, she only ever spoke to you! 

"Yes, we have another person joining us this morning. My grandson needs some extra credit, so I agreed to sign off on it if he helped out around here.” 

"So, where is he?” You ask

“Should be here soon; I told him I'd make his coach bench him if he were late,” she grits her teeth in annoyance. 

Like clockwork, the doors to the library open, and there he is, just a few feet away from the main desk.

“Theo!?” you say in shock

“Theo? No, That's my grandson” Mrs. Lee corrects 

“Its Haechan, and your a liar,” he corrects bitterly. 

Welp…It looks like He finished the book

“i didn't lie! He fought valiantly! ” You argue,

“He died!” he quips back, rolling his eyes as he makes his way to the counter. He slings his backpack on the surface and props himself up against it,leaning across to scowl in your face.

"Well, maybe if he—” you continue, but Mrs. Lee interrupts you.

“Children please! Goodness gracious, act your age and cut this out!” She exclaimed in disappointment. “We have far too many things to cover”

“Yes Mrs.lee”

“Yes grandma”

She gives him a stern look and he straightness himself immediately “Yes, mrs.lee”

Mrs. Lee showed you two around the library and the staff room before she went on a long-hour rant explaining exactly how she wanted the books to be organized and cared for. You listened intently and took notes. You would sneek peaks at Haechan from time to time, and he just stood there, nodding along to everything she said. No way was he listening! The stupid jock doesn't belong here! What sport did he even play? He was too handsome to be put out on a field! You were half way through cooking a plan to find his coach and giving them a piece of your mind for potentially ruining such a beautiful face, but then you realized you were supposed to be upset at him.

“are you even listening?” you whisper once Mrs Lee has her back turned. 

“Mind your business, Vora!” He says it with a lazy roll of his eyes. “You know, that's probably why you like her so much; she's so holier than thou. You must think your so righteous.” He slanders you.

Your forehead creases in aggravation. “Yeah, says the Theo simp! He's such a meathead; all he can think of is fighting, which is exactly why he ended up dead!” you spit back.

He opens his mouth to challenge you, but Mrs. Lee turns around before he can.

“Alright, I think that's everything, kids. Did I go to fast? Were you able to understand me? Maybe I should explain. It's one more time-”

“NO!” You both yell in unison.

“We got it, Mrs. Lee; seriously, I promise.” You smile confidently at her.

“ok then. Well, I'll head out early today and leave the rest up to you. I'll come back later to see how your doing.”

You try to stay positive. This wouldn't be so bad, right?

It's not that bad. If you call two hours of complete silence “not that bad,”

You did not expect your relationship with the cute boy who first caught your eye to turn out like this. You felt bad; Haechan did nothing wrong to you. His only crime was relating to a character that you were almost certain was written as satire. And trash-talk your favorite character. And stealing your favorite spot in the library that one time....ok maybe he had a few crimes under his belt, but they were nothing too serious.

Other than the egregious silence, things were going smoothly. You thought he wasn't paying attention, but you soon found out he was paying attention even more than you. You are honestly grateful that he was here; otherwise, you would have been stuck with a very angry Mrs. Lee lecturing you for two hours on not properly shelving the books. 

"Look, I'm sorry ok? This silence is driving me crazy. Can't we put this behind us?” You crack.

“You started it, princess.”

"Oh, that's really mature of you to point fingers,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“What, then is it my fault? I just wanted to enjoy my book.” Haechan glares at you.

He had a point. You two had started off fine until you started bagging on his favorite character. 

“Hey, I'm trying to do the mature thing and apologize; work with me here,” you say while organizing the checked-in books and preparing them for Haechan to shelve later. You figured he was a little better at that than you were, so you allowed him to fully take over the duty.

He looks up from his spot at the computer. He was fulfilling a request from a student to have a book ordered over from a different campus.

Haechan hits the submit button and sighs. “If we’re going to get through this, we're going to have to at least tolerate each other,” Haechan says.

“Fake besties in front of Mrs. Lee?” You suggest and hold a hand out in a truce.

He shakes your hand in return and gives you a devilish smile. “Don’t let me catch you on campus princess”

“Wouldn't count on it.” 

Sure, technically, you two didn't completely make up, but at least you made progress. At least the tension is alleviated. Sure, you could stick your nose in a book and ignore each other for your entire shift, but Mrs. Lee would kill you if she caught you slacking off. Making small talk with Haechan was the only way to make it through the day. Not to mention you enjoy watching the way he tilts his head in annoyance, tongue in cheek, when you ask him a million questions to pass the time.

“YOU GET TO SPEND TIME WITH THE LEE HAECHAN!? GOALIE OF THE NEO HOCKEY TEAM?” your roommate raves. “AND YOUR ONLY TELLING ME THIS NOW!”

“Jeez Rina I didn't think it was that big of a deal? Plus, it's only been a week,” you say. 

You were lounging around your dorm room when you explained your recent absence to your roommate. She was hounding you for details on where you had been. She assumed you were off sleeping around, but unfortunately for her and her everlasting need for drama, you've been spending time taking care of the library. You didn't think she would get that much entertainment out of it until you made the mistake of mentioning Haechan.

“Yea right! Every girl on campus has their eye on him! He's one of the star players! All he ever has time for is practice! and now apparently, library dates.” she adds.

“They are NOT dates. We can barely stand each other.” you argue. You lay on the old spring mattress and look up at the ceiling 

You didn't know he was such a big deal. Sure, he was handsome, so you assumed he was pretty popular, but this was a different ballpark. 

“I have seriously never seen him anywhere off the ice; how are you getting him all alone? Come on, tell me your secrets,” she pries. She probably thinks there's something going on, but you swear up and down there isn't.

“His grandma is making him help out around the library. Something about him needing extra credit or something? I don't know, but you're giving me a headache.” You didn't want to think about it. 

No wonder the man had such an ego. A Star hockey player? What was he even doing in the library? You had a million more questions you wanted to ask him next time you saw him

Today Haechan was forcing you to help him shelve the books. You usually just leave him to do it, but you guys had a few carts full of returned books that needed shelving. You two were towards the back of the library, finishing up the last of the books, when he decided to press your buttons. 

You see, you and Haechan were on better terms than when you first started, but you two are still at odds on occasion. There was definitely still tension as you went at each other's throats.

“Isn’t it kind of sad to spend all your time at the library? You don’t have any friends?” He says.

“This is fun for me,” you explain simply.

“This is fun?” He asks.

“What do you consider ‘fun’?” You ask. “Don’t you play sports? What's fun about chasing a ball?” You ask.

"Its hockey,” he corrects, shelving another book. 

“Oh? And somehow you can read?”

He turns to you slowly, and you can practically feel the frustration rolling off of him.

“I know your only friends are the characters in your little books, but real people have hobbies. Find one and leave me alone.” he says

You had about thirty minutes before Mrs. Lee came back to check on you two, and you had a few things you wanted to get off your chest.

“Yeah, like your real hobby isn’t getting a puck knocked into your numb skull? Tell me Haechan, what do your teammates think of you spending time with your nose stuck in a book instead of being on the ice?” 

“Go fuck Yourself”

“Only if you watch me” You grin back at him smugly.

He licks his teeth, sends you a devilish smile in disbelief, and leans down to meet your eyes.

“You are so lucky my grandma likes you.”

“Or what?” you ask, taking a teasing step back. You knew what game you wanted to play. You weren't just some bookworm; you were a cat, and Haechan was a mouse that you were dying to play with.

He takes another step towards you, almost closing the distance between you, but stops short when he hears the sharp click of heels walking towards you two.

“Smile and play nice,” he grits out with a plastic smile before turning to face his grandma.

“Oh my, nice work, you two! It looks like everything's been put up properly,” she says as she runs her hands along the spines of a few books, checking that the author's names are in alphabetical order. “You seem to be getting along just fine too! How sweet!” 

“Couldn't be any happier to work with uh…her” Haechan feigns like he forgot your name.

You know that Dipshit didn't forget your name; he just wanted to piss you off. Play nice, my ass.

"Yes, Mrs.Lee Haechan has been doing a wonderful job. I think he really deserves that extra credit.” 

He looks suspiciously at you.

“Oh yes, I think so too dear, but I wouldn't want to leave you here all day by yourself. We can still use him for a little while longer”

The realization hit him a beat later. You figured if you told his grandma how good he's doing, she would give him the extra credit already, and then he would have no reason to stick around. 

“I do wish I could tell his coach how well he's doing on his extra credit. I’ve just been so busy these days,” Mrs.Lee says.

It had taken some time, but you had finally put it together. He was doing this so he could play in the upcoming season! He must have been benched due to not passing a class; now he was stuck here doing extra credit. That explains the extra free time he has and why he's not on the ice as much.

No pass, no play.

"Well, Mrs. Lee, I can always send a message to his coach for you?” You offer.

"Well, that would be perfect, sweetheart. Here, I have some things in my office that I want you to take to him when you get a chance. Come now,” she waves you over as she shuffles excitedly to her office.

You follow behind her closely and send a quick grin over your shoulder at Haechan's stunned shock. You were playing a dangerous game with him. No one comes between him and the ice.

Did you want to end up in an all-out war with the Neo's goalie? Absolutely not, but that's exactly how the last few days have played out. Coach Choi wouldn’t be back on campus until Friday, so you had a few days to hang Haechan's fate over his head.

“Just wait until Mr. Choi finds out you called me a bitch” You would say when he was mean to you.

“You think Mr. Choi will let you play if he finds out your trying to skip out on library duty to go party?” You told him one day when he came to you asking to cover a shift for him.

If Haechan heard you say Mr. Choi one more time, he was going to lose it. First of all, it was Coach Choi, and he was sure his coach was still going to let him play; he was one of their star players. Haechan wasn't going to just sit back and let you bully him; he had a few tricks up his sleeves too.

“Grandma, I mean Mrs.Lee I brought you some fresh fruit; you can eat it with the tea I made you,” he says sweetly to his grandmother. 

“Oh, what a sweet boy! I knew working at this library would do you some good,” she gushes over him. 

She has been raving about her adorable grandson and how wonderful he was for the entire week. You knew it was all an act. He knew the most important thing to you was being Mrs. Lee's favorite.

For every “Mr.Choi” you threw at him, he would get a “sweet boy” from Mrs. Lee in return.

It didn't end there, though. Some of the Neo's are popping in more frequently now. It had been almost every day now that your favorite spot was occupied by some stupid, hocky jock with a pretty girl sitting on his lap. You had been looking forward to spending all day in your favorite nook after Mrs. Lee told you she only needed Haechan for the day. Now, as you shuffle around the tall bookcases of the library looking for a new spot, Haechan just smiles at you from over the counter.

Taking Mrs. Lee's praise was one thing, but desecrating your favorite spot with smelly hockey gear was another.

"Who stocked the books last?" Mrs. Lee calls out after doing her end-of-shift walk-through. She still didn't fully trust you and Haechan, so she would always walk through after you were done for the day.

"I just finished stocking them a few minutes ago," Haechan replies from the computer behind the counter. Somehow, he was able to run DOOM on the outdated computer system.

"I must be too lenient with you these days; you're making mistakes. I think you need more time with the book to learn their proper place!" She scolds

"What are you talking about I—"

"You shelved a book that hasn't been checked back in! I have been looking for this book all week! It was only thanks to Y/N that I found it" She finishes, waiving around a copy of Macbeth.

"I definitely checked that in!"

"No excuses! You're working the library all week by yourself if you still want that extra credit," she finalizes. All you can do is grin over her shoulder as he sends you a death glare.

Today was Friday meaning, all the fun was soon to be over. Haechan was let off easy, he was supposed to work today. Mrs. Lee wanted the library to herself today; she said she missed the smell of the books. You hope you didn't have to run into him, you had to focus on your meeting with Mr. Choi today.

It was midday when you decided to finally make your way over to the gym. You pull your jacket on, knowing it would be cold where you were going. As much as you tease him, you weren't actually going to say anything bad about Haechan to his coach. As much as you hate to admit it, you did believe he deserved that extra credit. He had been doing a really good job in the library. 

You finally reach your destination and push open the polished white doors to the gym. It was like the building was brand new; everything looked pristine. You were jealous that this was where all the school funding was going and not to the poor library, which could definitely use a remodeling. You shake the thought from your head and you walk further into the building.

In the center of the building was a huge ice rink, and surrounding it were cushined stands that almost reached the ceiling. Massive. That's all you could think of when you took in the scenery.

You snap out of your dazed state and scan the arena. You see movement on the ice and notice a blur of messy hair and tan skin effortlessly making its way across the ice. 

Haechan was running drills up and down the ice, maneuvering his puck in and out of obstacles cleanly. 

You make your way closer to him, and he's so focused that he doesn't notice you yet. Now that your up close, you can see the sweat as it glistens on his skin and drips down his neck. Man's was putting in work on that ice, and you immediately felt bad for trashing it before. This was Haechan's craft, and you could see just how much he cared for it. 

“I thought you were the goalie?” 

He skits to a stop and turns to your voice, confused. Once he realizes it's you, he squints his eyes suspiciously at you.

“Here to snitch to coach?”

“Humor me, and you’ll find out,” you smile.

He skates over to you and collides heavily with the barrier dividing you, making you jump. “I am the goalie; you know I'm the goalie.” He answers

“I thought you could only stay in the net, though?” You ask curiously 

"Technically, I can play outside of my net; I just can't cross the center line. "It would be stupid of me to play to far from the goal. These exercises are just for practice.”

"Where is everyone else?”

“Teams pissed I'm benched, so they won't play the ice with me until I'm officially back in the game,” he shrugs, but they can help him torment you throughout the week? Some team he's got.

"I don't understand men," you say, rolling your eyes.

“Its called tough love babe, you get it,” he teases. You fake punch him through the plexiglass, and he flinches jokingly. 

“You wish,” you mumble.

A comfortable silence settles as you just stare at each other with hesitant smiles gracing your lips, replacing the usual scowls.

“Why not help me out?”He asks

“With what?”

“Practice with me.”

“You want me?  on ice? I don't think so,” you laugh.

"Oh come on, Ice Princess afraid of a little cold? What happened to all that bite you had before? Afraid you'll lose some of the few brain cells you have?”

Oh he was so on.

He takes you into the storage room and helps you fit some spare skates onto your feet. He shoves a hockey stick into your arms and helps you back onto the ice. 

Oh it was so over

You felt ridiculous. You had no idea how to hold the hockey stick and you could barely stand on the ice. You figured Haechan must be getting a kick out of watching you struggle, but once you look up from watching your every step, you find nothing but worry in his eyes.

“Be careful not to fall; it's easy to bruise on the ice,” he warns gently as he skates circles around you, literally and hypothetically.

“I don't need your help; I can figure it out on my own,” you grumble And take a brave step forward. 

You knew the basics of ice skating, but that was just it; you knew it. Actually, putting it into action was a lot harder than you thought. You knew you were supposed to bend your knees, make a V shape with your feet, and lean forward slightly. That was the easy part, but actually moving? Not computing. 

You hear a soft chuckle behind you, and you throw a glare over your shoulder. 

“Let me help you,” Haechan laughs lightheartedly “can't help me practice if you can't skate dummy.” 

"This was your idea" You remind him

He glides over to you and hovers his hand on the middle of your back. Not fully touching you, but close enough, you know that he's there if you fall. You feel a bit more confident with him there, and you take your first step. You stumble immediately, but he's right there to catch you. He helps you right yourself and moves to skate in front of you. He grabs your hands and holds them steadily.

“The issue is that your taking steps; don't try to walk on the ice; push off and glide,” he explains. 

You follow his lead as he skates backwards. You stumble a few more times but your starting to find the rhythm to it. You can't help but smile excitedly at him. When you try to jump with joy, you immediately slip and fall. You close your eyes, bracing yourself for the impact of the cold, wet ice, but instead collide with a firm chest. You had fallen forward into Haechan's arms, and when you lifted your head up, you found yourself a breath away from his face. You can literally see your breath mingling in the cold air of the rink.

Time is frozen, and neither of you moves as you watch each other, waiting for the other to make a move. You lick your lips, and you can feel his grasp on your waist tighten at the sight.  

“Can I ki-”

SLAM. The sound of a door echoes through the building as footsteps follow. You and Haechan part immediately, and you turned towards the source of the noise.

It was Mr. Choi, the exact reason you were here in the first place. It looked like he was leaving for the day. You really needed to talk to him and give him the things Mrs. Lee wanted you to.

“Oh! Mr. Choi, excuse me!” You call out to him and shuffle as best you can across the ice. Before you can even stumble, you feel an arm encircle your waist as they guide you across the ice, smoothly pulling you along. 

 You finally make it off the ice and waddle towards him. awkwardly hanging on to the  gaurd rail with the skates still on your feet. 

“Mr.choi Just. A moment.”

He finally turns to look at you and raises an eyebrow

“Mrs. Lee sent me; she wanted to go over Haechan’s progress with the extra credit but she's been too busy to come here herself,” you explain, a little out of breath.

The coach takes one look at your exhausted form and then at haechan before letting out a sigh.

“Follow me to my office,” he says, walking back the way he came.

You make your way to the nearest bench and down. You rid yourself of the deadly contraption on your feet. You grab your things and send Haechan a final smile. His eyes are glued to you as he circles the ice watching as you following Mr. Choi. You enter through the door you saw him walk through; it seems like the office is located in the locker room. You find the coach seated in his office, near the back of the locker room. As much as Haechan bothered you, he deserved his praise. You relay your report and don’t forget to give him the things Mrs. Lee had for him. 

“I'm happy to hear he's not causing any trouble for you”

“Of course not”

"please save me TT," you cry from inside.

"Well, keep me updated if anything changes; I know he can be a handful sometimes”

You smile at the comment and nod “I'll see you around, Mr.Choi.”

“Just call me Coach.” He corrects.

“Right,” you smile.

You stroll out and look over at the ice to find Haechan running his exercises again. He looks at you expectantly as he skates the ice skillfully.

“You'll find out soon,” you say, answering his silent question.

You heard the door open and close again, and Coach Choi appeared to have followed closely behind. Haechan gets called over, and you take this as your cue to leave the two alone. Hopefully he remembers your kindness and you can finally call a truce on this petty war.

Over next few days, things have been going great between you two. You were actually starting to enjoy Haechan's company. After giving good feedback to his coach, he decided you weren’t too bad. The time spent in the library together is filled with small laughs and light jokes at first, but as you two finally break from your apprehensive shell, you find yourselves completely opening up and letting your guard down.

Outside of the library, he's been teaching you how to skate, and you have been seeing more and more progress. You two even started buddy reading. This is how it should have been from the beginning. You didn't realize how much you wanted to get close to him until you finally did. 

You were currently on the rink with Haechan as you skated alongside him. You would follow behind him as he practiced and you would read aloud for him. Recently, he hadn't had time to read. His coach was pushing him to practice more as the season approached, so you read for him to ensure he didn't fall behind

You finish off a chapter and close the book. “how are we feeling about this chapter” 

“Too short; I feel like not much happened in this chapter,” he comments.

“I could read another if you like?” 

“Nah, I'm almost done,” he says as he comes to a stop to catch his breath. “lets wrap up”

You nod and make your way off the ice.

You busy yourself with untying your skates and haechan sits down next to you to untie his.

“when I'm back on the ice, are you gonna come watch me play?” he asks

Your wanted to answer right away but you find your mind wandering back to your conversation with your roommate all those weeks ago. Haechan was the hotshot player, who knew what kind of rumors would spread if you came to the game to support him

“I'm not really a hockey fan,” you say. It was true; you don't really follow sports.

“you wouldn't be my fan?” he teases

“especially not yours,” you joke back

“Seriously, it would mean a lot to me”

“when did you start caring about being seen with me?”

“since you stopped being annoying,”

Point taken.

“I'll think about it,” you say before you stand. Your make your way out and call over your shoulder, “don't fall behind on your chapters; I won't be able to read to you once they take you off the bench”

Mrs. Lee had finally concluded his extra credit, and once it was reported to his professor, his grade was updated, and he was good to play again. Of course, Mrs. Lee extended him the opportunity to continue working at the library, and when Haechan says he'll make time to stop by and see you, you believe him.

That was a mistake

It was stupid of you to think Haechan actually cared about spending time with you in the library. Once he was cleared to play, he put all his time back on the ice. 

If you crossed paths on campus, he would smile and wave, but there was nothing much outside of that. So what was all this for? Were you just there to help him kill time until he was back with his beloved team? You admit you started off really rocky, so you wouldn't put it past him, but lately you felt as though you really grew as friends. 

You knew how much the sport meant to him, but you couldn’t stop the hurt that followed. You were only human after all, and humans made stupid decisions.

It was finally the night of the first game of the season, and you sat in the stands as you watched the game unfold. Maybe Haechan was right to be cocky; he was really good at defending. You couldn't take your eyes off of him. The away team was down 15 points, and the game was coming to an end. If the team was good enough, they might have been able to turn the tables in the last quarter, but that doesn't happen as Haechan blocks almost every shot they attempt. He was quick and used his entire body to block his opponents shots. You had never seen him so focused before.

The buzzer sounds, and the crowd cheers. You come down the stands to give your congratulations. Haechan spots you as you approach and gives you a smile, opening his arms for a hug.

You weren't here for him.

You walk right past him and hug his teammate, Jeno. You had been getting closer with Jeno over the last few weeks. You had checked out a book for him one day and even helped him study it for his history class. You two have been talking ever since. Haechan's smile fell immediately. You wish you could have captured the look on his face. 

“Are you coming over to celebrate?” Jeno asks

“Of course I'll wait for you, ok?” You say and hug him tighter.

Haechan remains motionless, his face full of confusion and anger.

Jeno leaves you and heads back into the locker room.

Most of the team had started to head back already, and someone clapped a hand over Haechan's shoulder, dragging him back to the locker room and rambling in his ear about the amazing plays from that night's game. Haechan can't seem to pay attention, focusing solely on you and the sly smile that graces your lips.

You were honestly impressed by how quickly Haechan changed clothes. He was only in the locker room for about 5 minutes, and when he storms over to you, you can tell he skipped the shower.

“Jeno? Really? You're better than that,” he says, tongue in cheek. 

“Don't start; he's actually really sweet. What do you even care? You won the game, right? That's all you care about.” 

“I see what this is,” he says with a smile “your upset that I didn't make time for you and our little book dates, is that it?” 

“They were not dates,” you correct him 

“Could have fooled me. I see the way you watch me instead of the pages,” he counters

“Oh my god, you're so full of yourself." You say but don't deny his claims. "I thought we were past this.”

“You’re one to talk; your literally using Jeno to get back at me!”

“How can I get back at you if you don't like me? Why do you care so much?” You argue. “Admit it, you have a thing for me” 

He takes a step closer, invading on your personal space, and you can tell by the expression in his eye that he was about to say something devious, but Jeno interrupts you, throwing an arm over your shoulder.

"Nu-uh, she's mine tonight; back off,” Jeno jokes, whisking you away from the tension you and Haechan created. As you walk away with Jeno, you have a chance to look over your shoulder and catch Haechan's eyes. He gives you a look, but you're unsure what it reads as? You’re too far away to see, but it looks like hurt?

Jeno drives you back to his place; apparently,  the party was at the grand house that most of the team stays in. Most of the team stays together while others live on their own, but all the celebratory parties happen at the big house. You wonder if Haechan stayed here too? You shake the thought from your head. You would not think about him tonight; you had a point to prove.

Once you make it to the house, you notice most of the team is still setting up and getting ready. A few people were early, and they were mostly chatting out back on the deck. You follow Jeno up to his room and he changes into something more comfortable than the practice clothes he had thrown on after the game. You give your opinions on a few of the shirts he tries on and you find that its really easy to talk to him. He was super laid back and you could see yourself becoming really good friends with him.

“You and Haechan, huh?” He asks as he picks over a few chains to match his outfit.

“No, its not like that,” you say, rolling your eyes “Try that gold one on,” You point to the heavy chain sitting on his dresser. 

“The whole team knows something is up. You even practice with him sometimes.” Jeno says as he clips the chain behind his neck and adjusts it in a mirror. 

Your lying on his bed as you absent-mindedly scroll through your phone. "Hmm, not that one. I think silver would match better actually.” You avoid being put on the spot.

“Make up your mind,” Jeno groans, taking the chain off “I know your only here with me to make him jealous, so if you want my help, you could at least be honest.”

You look over his outfit again and give him a flirty smile “Who says I'm not? You look good. Maybe I want to try you?” 

He smirks and crawls over to you on the bed. He pins you down under him and kisses your neck. “You’re not fooling anyone, but who says we can't have a little fun” He teases and caresses your sides. You think he's going to take it farther, but he parts from you and goes back to his closet to find his shoes.

“Just kidding doll, he's my teammate. Even though you can’t see it, I do. He likes you,” he concludes.

You watch him put on his shoes and sigh. Haechan was ruining your chances of getting good dick now too? “You still gonna help me get back at him, right?” you ask.

“Oh definitely, he deserves a little tormenting,” Jeno says as he finishes putting together his outfit “He ate my leftover Kimchi Jjigae, so he's got it coming.”

You laugh and haul yourself from his sheets, joining his side as you both walk down to the party.

When you both enter the stairway, the music hits you, and you can practically feel the bass of the music shake your bones. Any more small talk was clearly out of the question, and you were grateful. You were not in the mood for any of Jeno's twenty-one questions regarding your feelings for Haechan. You doubted you would hear him even if he spoke right into your ear. He leads you to the main floor, and the house is packed. While he waves and greets a few of his friends, you rake your eyes across the crowd to see if you can find Haechan. There has been no sight of him so far. 

You make your way to the kitchen and find the drinks. You still hated the way hard  liquor burns as it goes down and settles for a mixed drink. You stick close to Jeno, hoping Haechan would find you hanging off his teammates shoulders, but you still haven't seen him.

It wasn't until about an hour into the party that you saw him. Honestly, after your second drink, you had already forgotten you were even looking for him as you began to have genuine fun with Jeno. He held you close as you danced on the floor. Although you were both past tipsy, you were not quite drunk. Jeno's chest was against your back as you rocked back and forth to the beat, his head nestled in your neck. 

Haechan had just come down the stairs; you figured he must have been hiding away in his room until this point. He locks eyes with you as your figure becomes entwined with Jeno's. Jeno peppers a few kisses against your skin, and you can practically see Haechan's breath catch in his throat as his face heats up in anger.

You smile in victory and you think he's seconds away from dragging you off the floor but he surprises you. He pushes through the crowd, but he doesn't come toward you at all. He angrily makes his way through the front door, slamming it behind him. 

You pull away from Jeno’s embrace, suddenly ashamed. "I don't think this is working” 

Jeno can't hear anything your saying, so he just screams, “HUH? WHAT?” loudly in your face. 

“I”M LEAVING,” you try to communicate through gestures.

“SHOULD I GO WITH YOU?” he asks, finally able to understand you

“NO IM FINE,” you make an x motion with your arms to tell him no and you point behind you, “GOTTA GO, BYE”  

You leave him in the crowd, and you figure he'll be okay because, when you turn around to spare him one last look, some other girl was quick to take your spot. 

You rush through the bodies of people and make it outside. There were a few people leaning against cars or huddled in groups chatting with friends, but they paid you no mind as you walked down the sidewalk, following a familiar figure that was a few meters ahead of you. 

He had his hands shoved deep in his pockets as he stormed ahead. No matter how much you pleaded for him to slow down, he kept walking. You had no idea where he was going until you spotted an old, run-down building. He was going to the library.

Once he got to the doors, he used his spare key to unlock it and rush inside. You follow after, finally being able to catch up

“Hey! Haechan, wait” You grab his arm, and he finally turns towards you.

“What! Isn't this what you wanted? To piss me off?” He asks in exasperation, his chest heaving in anger.

“Can we just be honest then! Why are you upset?” You challenge. 

“BECAUSE I LIKE YOU!” He yells in frustration, “I've liked you since the day you gave me your headband. I could have done anything else for extra credit You know why I chose the library? Because I knew you would be here!”

“You completely ditched me after!”

“I was busy!”

“Your insufferable is what you are!’

“You think you know it all, don't you!” 

"Well, I do!” You yell, “I know if you liked me, you should have acted like it!”

“Oh yea!?”

“Yea!”

With his lips pressed hungrily against yours, you found it impossible to think at all. Not with the way he pulled you closer to taste more of you. You could hardly keep up. One minute you’re at each other's throats, and the next his tongue is down yours.

He pushes you back against a bookshelf, knocking a few copies from their spot, and you pay them no mind as they clatter to the floor. You would have a lot to clean up afterwards.

“So annoying,” he mutters against your lips as he deepens the kiss.

You still can't keep up. All you can think about is the way his hands feel as they travel across the skin of your stomach. They were cool from the midnight air and you shivered under his touch. He backs away to let you catch his breath.

“Tell me you want it,” he says, a hair's breadth away from your neck. He gave you your moment to back out, to go back to whatever you guys were before, but you didn't take it.

“I need you, please,” you mutter as you bring your hands back up to his hair and pull him down for another kiss. 

You couldn't take another interruption; you needed all of him, and if you had to wait another second, you'd explode. He tried to pull away again for air, but you chased his lips, biting them in retaliation, and he whined.

“Not so tough now, are you” you joke, a bit out of breath.

He narrows his eyes and rests his hand against your neck “You need to be quiet; we’re in a library.” He tightens the hold on your neck and any rebuttal you had dies in your throat “another word and I'll leave you to finish by yourself and I don't think Edgar Allen Poe could turn you on more than I can” 

You raise an eyebrow and open your mouth to rasp out a response, but he has you facing the bookshelf, manhandling you before you can speak.

“Do not test me,” he says.

He has you pinned up against the shelves and undresses you. You want to complain about the amount of clothing he was wearing, but remind yourself of his earlier threat.

The library is dark and quiet; no one would be able to see your bodies dance in the dark. Your senses are heightened and they are all zeroed in on haechan. The warmth of his hands as they explore your body and tease you and the soft sounds that escape his mouth as he grinds his hips against your ass. 

For a second, you don't feel him pressing up against you anymore, and your protests die on your tongue as you feel him lick into your heat from behind. He’s grabbing at your cheeks, massaging them as he spreads them to make room for his face. He's so messy, and you can't help but blush at the amount of noise he's making. Your legs begin to shake as he sucks heavily on your clit. He pulls back and spits on your cunt, adding to the slickness, before inserting his fingers. As many days as you had worked with him, you didn't think it would ever end with him pushing you up against the bookcases and eating you out from the back. Just a few moments ago, he couldn't stand you; now he was on his knees, like he could worship your pussy for a lifetime. You would not be able to look at this library the same way again.

You could feel yourself getting closer, but you'd cry if you had to come around his fingers pathetically rather than wrap around his thick cock. You thread your fingers through his hair and grab hold. You almost don’t have the heart to pull him away, but you eventually find the strength. You pull him up from his knees and into another kiss, and you can instantly taste yourself coated on his tongue. 

“Fuck me already.” you say against his lips.

He groans and gets to work on taking off his pants. He doesn't part from you for even a second, and the death grip he has on your hips tells you he can barely keep it together. He slips inside and you both whimper at the feeling. He fucks you as intimately as someone can press up against a bookshelf in the middle of a library. All you can do is just grip the shelf. You could hardly keep yourself up after coming so close to the edge. 

He finally breaks the kiss, and you gasp for air. The lightheaded feeling makes you tighten around him. He's peppering kisses around your neck and down your back. 

“So good, babe;  you feel so good,” he mumbles. “We could have been doing this from the start but you just wanted to be a brat” He nips at your skin and lands a slap against your bare ass. 

“But all you needed was some dick. Now your so good for me, right baby,” he slows his thrusts down teasingly and presses another kiss to your temple.

His strokes are so deep and calculated you almost start crying. He doesn't like your lack of response so he snakes a hand in front of you and grabs onto your neck. “Answer me baby,” he threatens as he tightens his grip on your throat. His hips pick up at a brutal speed, and he's fucking you so hard that the bookshelf is shaking, causing more books to topple off.

“Yes! All yours! I'm your good girl” you really do cry this time. 

Haechan groans at the sight of the fresh tears that fall down your cheeks. He kisses them away, and he pulls your hips back to meet his thrust, driving deeper into your greedy hole. Your head is up in the clouds, and all you can make out is him whining “so good” and “just like that” into the crook of your neck. 

You cum hard and gush out all over his length. He thrusts into you a few more times before he finally releases deep inside. Your legs are shaking and you have no idea how your going to make it home. 

He pulls out of you and watches as his cum drips out of you. He did not feel like scrubbing his cum from the library floor, so he did the next best thing. He found his way down to his knees again and cleaned you up. You weakly push at his head, and you slump against the bookshelf. 

Haechan has to pull himself away before things get out of hand again. He helps you put your clothes back on and sits you on a nearby bench as he cleans up the mess you two made. He picks up the books and puts them back on their respective shelf.

“Mrs. Lee would kill us if she found out”

“Do not bring up my grandma right now” Haechan shudders at the thought in disgust.

Silence falls over you two as he continues to work. 

“Did you mean what you said earlier” you say, suddenly unable to meet his gaze, like he wasn't fucking the life out of you two minutes ago.

“Yes, I’m sorry for not being upfront with you. It was just so hard; it seemed like we  were always fighting,” he says as he shelves a copy of Huckleberry Finn.

“I'm sorry for the way I acted before,” you sigh “Can we start over...again...for real this time” you laugh.

Haechan finishes rearranging the books and sits next to you on the bench.

“Of course,” and he kisses you. 

This kiss was different from earlier; this one meant something and wasn't lust-filled like the other. This kiss was filled with secret promises and new adventures. When he pulled away and looked him in the eye, you knew things were going to be different.

[taylormarieee]

Wanna make out in the backseat of my brothers car? Sam Winchester

Summary: You and Sam planned on just making out but what happens when it leads to more...

Pairing: Sam Winchester x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 932

Warnings: PiV sex, Clit rubbing, sensitivity, overstimulation, Kissing, hair pulling kink, praise kink, Sam being an absolute slut, established relationship, Car sex, Dom!Reader, Switch!Sam, Creampie

A/N: Strictly written for my wife @dollyfl1rt for you babygirl

You have been dating Sam Winchester ever since his last girlfriend died. You took it slow and let him grieve.

You two were like peas in a pod. Always together, laughing, hunting. It was always hard to go on dates considering the circumstances of a Supernatural crime happening all over the world.

Demons, shapeshifters, wendigos, and vampires. It was so much for you yet so exciting and exhilerating.

Tonight you and Sam went out for a little night drive in Deans car. You had to negotiate a plan with him.

Granted it took like two hours of begging, you made him crack. Now here you two were sitting on a hill in front of the city.

"God, it's so pretty, don't ya think Sammy?" You ask, staring and admiring the stars.

"Yea, it is. But not as pretty as you" He says with a shit eating grin on his cute features.

"You are so corny you know that." You say laughing in between sentences.

"Yea, I know." He says laughing with you as he rubs your thigh. "One of the many things I like about you." You compliment.

"He smirks and turns his head towards you shuffling his hand higher up your thigh.

"What other things do you like about me?" He asks. You turn to him and smile.

"I love your hair and how soft it is, I love your face, I love your jawline, and I love your lips and how soft they a-are."

You notice him getting closer and his hand going higher until there under your mini skirt.

His face gets closer until your noses are touching. "You wanna feel how soft they are?" He whispers to you.

He watches you squirm in your seat and you whimper. You frantically nod your head and he grabs your neck and smashes his lips on yours.

You moan in to the kiss and he stars rubbing your clit through your panties. You squirm and whimper at his warm touch on your soaking wet pussy.

"Y-You like that baby?" He whispers into your mouth. You nod and whimper out a 'yes'.

He loved watching you squirm whenever he touched you like this. All in your areas and making you all hot and flustered.

"Sam please, please I need you." You moan out, "I can't sweets, it's my brothers car, He'll kill us."

"Sam I don't really care, we won't have another time. Please Sammy.”

He stares at your glossy eyes and finally gives in. “Ok but this is the first and last time baby, we say nothing to him.”

You nod your head frantically as a silent promise and he grabs your hips dragging you over to him.

You grab his face once your settled on his lap and he reclines the seat as you place your soft lips on his.

He is the one to moan into the kiss now. You begin to grind on him in a slow motion and he groans squeezing the flesh at your hip.

You take of your shirt leaving you in your black bra. He skillfully slides his cold hands to your back and in clips your bra.

You tough on Sam’s hair and he moans. You keep tugging on his hair and he continues to moan out grasping your ass.

You start to grind faster on the rough denim of his jeans. You tug on the hem of his shirt so he could take it off.

He takes his shirt off and unbuckles his jeans and pulls the down far enough to let out his cock.

His boxers are being tugged off by you and you both are rushing so eager to touch and feel each other.

You pump his cock and Sam let’s out the sluttiest moan known to man.

You moan as you slide down on his length. He fills you up so nice.

You begin to bounce on his cock, your breast bouncing all in Sam’s face.

He begins playing with your tits and throws his head back when you roll your hips in a type of way.

“Fuck you feel so good! You fill me up so nice Sammy.” You whimper out.

“You gonna cum inside me Sammy? Please cum all inside me sam.” You whimper out.

“Shit. Holy~f-fuck, I’m gonna cum baby.” He moans out. You roll your hips, grinding on him nice and fast.

You bounce on him non-stop until you feel his cock twitch inside of you.

You feel him shoot his warm seed inside of you nice and deep inside your velvety walls.

“oh f-fuck baby.” He moans out. You continue to bounce on him after his orgasm not letting up and he begins to squirm.

“baby! Ahh~ it’s t-to much!” He whimpers out. You roll your hips on him and finally stop.

He then begins to ram into your tight pussy from below you.

“Cum for me now baby! Come one you can do it sweetheart. So wet for me.”

You whine at his praise and hide your head in his neck and whine incoherent nonsense.

You chant Sam’s name like a prayer. You feel your orgasm approaching and he chuckles.

“Let go mama, let go all on my cock.” He whispers. You moan his name and cum all on his cock.

You shake at the feeling of your pleasure coursing through you.

When you finally catch your breath you look around and notice deans car windows are all fogged up.

“Remember baby, not a word about this, okay?” He asks once again.

“Yea. Yea I know.” You say smiling before kissing him once again.

Taglist: @itzdarling @dollyfl1rt

[zepskies]

Maybe More Than Enough

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Summary: You’ve been a friend and ally to the Winchester brothers for years, but you and Dean break new ground while on a stakeout to catch a witch.

AN: Here’s another entry for @jacklesversebingo! It’s also based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @lacilou. 💜

Prompt: Window—Letter Opener—Binoculars

Request: I'd love to read about Dean and the reader who's his age or even a little older.

Song Inspo: “Over the Hills and Far Away” by Led Zeppelin

Word Count: 2.9K

Tags/Warnings: A bit of angst, bit of hurt/comfort, bit of spice.~

💜 Jacklesverse Bingo Masterlist

Discreetly from the passenger side of the car, you peered through the binoculars again. Your target was in view through the unusual circular window: an average looking white man in his fifties, peeling a tangerine from the comfort of his kitchen.

According to his driver’s license, his name was Martin Reynolds. Sam was investigating the sudden death of his wife, Laura, and the wives of two other men in the small town of Whitebury, Mississippi. Laura was the first victim, so you and Dean were watching Martin for any suspicious activity.

Your companion shifted in his seat. You could hear the give of the well-worn leather against denim. The Impala wasn’t exactly inconspicuous for a stakeout, but he refused to be trapped in your “tiny-ass” Toyota Camry all afternoon. You preferred the term compact.

“What’s our he-witch up to?” Dean asked.

Your lips twitched at a smile.

“We don’t know if he’s a witch,” you said, but you passed him the binoculars.

Dean’s mouth quirked to one side before he took a look. “Well, he probably isn’t a shifter.”

“What makes you say that?”

He gestured back at the window and gave you back the binoculars. You peered over and saw that Martin had half the tangerine in his mouth while he opened his mail with a letter opener. It flashed like silver in the afternoon light.

“If that is silver, it would rule out a lot of things,” you agreed, “but it still wouldn’t tell us why he killed his wife.”

Dean looked over as a white Porsche pulled into Martin’s driveway.

“Hmm, well, I’d say motive is comin’ in hot. Literally,” he said, watching intently when a young woman stepped out of the car. Her dress was as tight as the ponytail tied high on her head, a coil of blonde bouncing down her back.

You sighed, with a roll of your eyes. “Typical.”

You noticed the way Dean’s smirk wiped the boredom away from his eyes. It was annoyingly handsome, along with the neatly trimmed stubble across his cheeks, framing a strong jaw and the enticing bow of his lips. You had to resolve to ignore all of it, heaving a small sigh.

You wedged the binoculars between you both and toyed with the silver rings on your fingers—both a fashion statement and a safety precaution.

“Could be a demon deal,” you said. “Three men sporting Touch of Gray, three wives over 40.”

“Damn. That’s cold,” Dean shook his head, crossing his arms from the driver’s seat. Always from the driver’s seat. “That’d be pretty cut and dry though. Downright stereotypical.”

You gave him a smile. “Since when do you like it complicated?”

“Like it?” he scoffed. “What I like and what I get are on two different fucking hemispheres.”

You sensed bitterness there, underneath the dry remark. You looked away from the scene in the kitchen where Martin was pouring Barbie, his presumed girlfriend, a glass of white wine. Just like you thought, Dean’s brief good humor faded, falling into his resting state. It was a harder look than you were used to seeing on him over the years. His lighter, devil-may-care attitude in his younger days seemed to gain a little bit of edge every time you saw him next.

A few decades of bullshit, blood, and loss will do that to you.

But every time he called, you answered.

“You okay?” you asked. You tried to hide the depths of your concern, but maybe you just weren’t good enough. Dean glanced at you and forced his crunched brows to relax, as if he’d caught himself opening the hatch a little too much. Letting his true depths come to light a little too long.   

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m good,” he replied.

Sure. Always good.

You met him with a long look, your head rolling onto your shoulder.

“Hey. You can be honest with me, you know,” you reminded him. “What, you think I’m gonna tell Sam all your secrets?”

Dean smiled a little, but he shook his head, remaining stubborn.

“Look, I’m fine. Just the usual bullshit,” he said. “Nothing you gotta be dragged into.”

You frowned. “What, aside from this hunt? Aside from the last ten years of bailing your ass out?”

That last part was more joking. The truth was, Sam and Dean had helped you just as often as you’d tried to help them.

Now, Dean just shook his head. The fact that he didn’t levy back a smartass response further let you know that something was off with him. 

You bumped his arm lightly over his jacket.

“Come on, tell me all about your man feelings,” you teased. It had its intended effect, bringing a reluctant smile to Dean’s lips. He shot you a look, and you couldn’t help but admire how the dimming sun caught in his eyes, that pale green.

“Whatever. Like I said, I’m good,” he said, deflecting further by turning up his music. Yet another Led Zeppelin song was playing, but at least this one was more mellow. The guitar riff filled the car at a moderate volume. You guys were still on a stakeout, after all.

You shook your head, despite your smile. “You sound like a grumpy old man.”

His brows popped up. “Old?”

You shrugged impishly.

“‘Cause if I’m not mistaken, you’ve got a bit more mileage than I do,” he retorted.

You laughed, shoving his shoulder.   

“Well, that’s just rude,” you said. “You’re not even a year behind me. Matter of fact, you’re just a few steps shy of Touch of Gray in there. I can even help you find your shade. I’m thinking, what, medium brown with a hint of silver fox? Could be very George Clooney.”     

The disgruntled look on Dean’s face had you dying.

“Now that’s just uncalled for,” he said, even though his lips were curving upward at the sound of your laughter. Without you knowing, he took in the infectious sound, and the way you pressed the back of your hand against his arm while you tried to get ahold of yourself. It was everything he’d ever liked about you.

Easy. That was what it was, being with you.

The hard part always came afterward, watching you leave.

Letting you leave.

“It’s just…I don’t know,” you said, biting into your lower lip. You smudged your lipstick there, a dark, juicy red. It was distracting enough that Dean almost missed what you said next.

“You seem weighed down.” Your eyes were more serious then, beautiful and warm in their honesty. “Every time I see you, it’s like you’ve got fifty more pounds on your shoulders.”

Dean didn’t have an answer for you, even as he held your gaze.

His cell phone ringing cut through the guitar melody slowly fading into the next song. Dean fished it out of his pocket and answered Sam’s call.

“Hey, what’cha got?”

Your hunch proved correct. Sam tracked down the demon that made soul-claiming deals with a handful of men from the same golf club. All of them bored of their wives, and all of them with too much money on their hands—enough that they refused to lose any of it in a messy divorce.

It was like the opposite of the First Wives Club, and you were sickened.

When you and Dean questioned Martin, he felt just guilty enough to spill his guts.

Sam managed to gank the demon on his own, which left you and Dean with a conundrum: what to do with the marked men who sold their souls. No matter how much justice you thought they deserved, their souls were still damned to Hell either way. As Dean pointed out, that would be price enough to pay.

You were sour about it, but you let Martin and the rest of his scheming bastard friends go…after leaving him with a well-placed knee to the nads. At the very least, he wouldn’t be making any more scheming bastards anytime soon.

Dean was still smirking when you two piled into the Impala. Sam was waiting to be picked up at the bar across town, where he’d found the demon.

“Shut up already,” you laughed.

Dean shook his head, still grinning as he put the car in Drive.

“I didn’t say anything.”

Your smile remained, but not for long as you stared out the window. You liked the evening time, where there was still light enough to see, but the world was winding down in shades of orange-gold and violet. The streetlamps were slowly coming on, lighting the way along the road.

The car pulled to a stop at the red light, there at a busy intersection.

“Hey.”

Dean’s voice, deep and a little tired, caught your attention.

“You okay over there?” he asked. He was side-eying you again, this time in concern. You could see it behind the usual gruffness.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you said. “Just makes me glad I never got married. Else I might’ve gotten shivved just so he could get out of paying alimony.”

Dean sucked his teeth. “Apparently it’s a bitch.”

You gave him a dry, withering look. He chuckled and briefly reached over to squeeze your arm.

“Hey, come on. That shit’s not happening to you,” he said. “He’d have to be dumb, deaf, and blind.”

You tilted your head at him, a small smile lighting up your face again. You couldn’t help the way your face warmed in a blush, especially with the way he was looking at you, all smirky and charming and unequivocally Dean.  

“Green light,” you reminded him.

He returned his attention to the road. His right hand was molded onto the steering wheel casually. His left rested on his thigh, while his fingers bounced to the beat of a song off his second favorite Zeppelin album. And you knew that, because he’d been playing it on repeat all day.

Many have I loved, and many times been bitten. Many times I've gazed along the open road…

You watched his profile, for a moment spellbound. The sky dimmed over his shoulder, casting him in both light and shadow, gold and dark.

“Have you ever…” You didn’t even know where you were going with this, but you’d already opened your mouth, and Dean was already glancing your way, with half his gaze on the road ahead.

“You ever gotten close to having something real? Someone who's not gonna shiv you when you’re fifty,” you said.

A laugh caught in his throat. “Hell, I never thought I’d see my forties, but here we are. Apparently I’m old.”

He shot you a wry look. You smiled.

“That’s one hell of a way to avoid the question,” you said.

Dean shook his head, this time with a sigh under his breath. For a second, you didn’t think he would answer you. You almost didn’t blame him.

The music filled the silence in between.

Mellow is the man who knows what he's been missing. Many, many men can't see the open road…

“Once,” Dean admitted. “I thought I had it, but uh…didn’t take.”

“Was she a hunter?” you asked.

Dean shook his head, his eyes staying on what lied ahead.

“Just wasn’t my life,” he said. “Couldn’t keep dragging her into mine.”

There was a lot there, buried deep. You couldn’t even begin to find a shovel, so you let it be. Though you should’ve predicted the way he turned it back on you.

“And you?” he said, brows raised. “Never had a douchebag in a sport coat, playing Caddyshack at the club every weekend?” 

You shook your head as you laughed. If nothing else, Dean could paint a picture.

“Definitely fucking not.” You rested your chin in your palm, your elbow finding purchase above the door handle. “You know me. I’m either too much or not enough.”

You didn’t notice it then, but Dean looked over at you with a frown tugging at his lips. He didn’t like the melancholy in your voice, or the way you turned to look out the window, like you were trying to hide from him.

Instead of putting voice to any of the thoughts rolling through his head, he kept driving.

The Impala rumbled to a stop in the parking lot in front of the bar. You were ready to meet Sam for a couple of beers inside. You grabbed your bag resting on the floor between your feet, but Dean’s stayed your hand, his own wrapping warmly around your arm.

You looked over at him with blinking, expectant eyes. He met you with sincerity.

“Anybody who says you ain’t enough, doesn’t know you,” he said. And then, his smile was back, quirking up at the corner. “At least, not like I do.”

Slowly, you smiled back. Your blush fairly radiated down your neck as well as your face, but you crossed your arms.

“So I’m too much. Is that what you’re saying?” you said.

He chuckled. “I plead the Fifth on that one.”

You fell into a fit of laughter along with him, and you both climbed out of the car feeling a little bit lighter. The blaring red neon sign above the bar blinded you for a moment. You turned to see Dean fiddling with his keys, trying to pick out the right one to lock up the car.

Some deep-seated feeling compelled you to go to him. You made your way around the hood and stopped just behind him. You called his name softly.

Dean turned to look at you over his shoulder. He was surprised to find you there so close. It led him to turn around all the way.

You didn’t give him, or even yourself time to think.

You grabbed the edges of his jacket and pulled yourself up to press your lips to his. It was more or less a gentle kiss. Just a sweet, slow meeting of lips. You pulled away just as slowly, the heels of your boots lowering back down to the ground.

Dean blinked his eyes open. When he came back to himself, he looked down at you in surprise and with a hint of a smile. He had the imprint of your lipstick smudged across his plush mouth.

“What was that for?” he asked.

You smoothed your hands over his jacket. It was a bit too hard to meet his eyes, so yours landed somewhere around his chest. It was also too hard to say what you really wanted to say, so you settled on half of the truth.

“A thank you, I guess,” you said. “And maybe the next time I see you, you’ll have a little less weight on your shoulders.”

His calloused hand cupped your cheek, and he earned your gaze, blinking up at him through your lashes. You couldn’t name everything you saw in his eyes, but it was more than just surprise or lust. In fact, he seemed to be debating with himself, fighting something deep inside.

You saw the exact moment he made his decision.

“Maybe we should make it count then,” he said, his thumb brushing over your lower lip.

You didn’t even trust your voice, but your gaze drifted down from his eyes, to his mouth. Your shallow nod in agreement was like releasing him from his chains.

Dean framed your face with both hands and drew you into his kiss, like he was breathing life into you. You certainly felt alive.

You clung to the back of his shirt, to his arms, while he gathered you flush against his chest. His strong hands glided their way down the small of your back, eliciting tingles down your spine. All the while, he drew you in deeper and deeper with each new sensuous glide of his lips against yours.

You yelped in surprise when he turned with you in his arms, just to press you into the side of his car. Dean pulled open the door to the backseat, and you climbed in willingly. He followed after you, at the same time you dragged him over by the front of his shirt. Soon his jacket was wrenched off his shoulders along with yours, both tossed somewhere in the front seats along with his shirt.

While you explored the new expanse of tanned skin, roaming your hands over his strong, broad shoulders and dipping down his back, his lips had fastened to your neck, teasing and grazing with his teeth along your pulse point.

You were already moaning and panting in his ear, your body arching to meet his as you slung a leg across his lap. He grabbed onto your thigh and squeezed, pulling you even tighter against him.

Still, you couldn’t help but smile in amusement.

“Aren’t we a little old to be making out in the backseat?” you said.

“You can be a little old for a lotta things, sweetheart,” said Dean, his voice gravel and deep as sin. “But this ain’t one of ‘em.” 

AN: Some spicy flangst there for ya! It was honestly refreshing to write some Dean after working on so much Soldier Boy. I love that guy, but he gives me stress sometimes. 😂 Trying to cure Dean's angst is a fun break! 💜

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[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Husband Effect

Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff

A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!

__________

“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”

“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”

“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”

“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.

“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”

“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.

“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.

“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”

“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”

“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.

“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”

“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”

“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”

“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.

“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”

“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.

“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”

“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”

“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. 

“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.

“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.

“Please hurry Sam.”

One Week Later

“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”

“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”

“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.

“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”

“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”

“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”

“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said. 

“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”

“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.

“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.

“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”

“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”

“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away. 

“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”

“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”

“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”

“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”

“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.

“I promise, Y/N.”

“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.

“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.

“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”

“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean. 

“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.

“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”

“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”

“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”

“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”

“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”

“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“

“I do feel loved,” said Dean.

“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.

“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”

“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.

“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”

“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.

“Cool with it?” you asked.

“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”

“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.

“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.

“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”

One Year Later

“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day. 

“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”

“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”

“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.

“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.

“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”

“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”

“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”

“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.

“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.

“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”

“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.

“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.

“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”

“You got something special planned?” you asked.

“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”

“You read my mind.”

[thesilmarillionblog]

HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DEMON

Summary: Dean is consumed by darkness, and your body is consumed by his. He wants you to realize that his new self is superior and demands that you enjoy his demon form.

Pairing: Demon Dean / F! Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUT!!!, angst, hurt, rough demon dean, demon has a praise kink, unprotected sex, somno kink!, naive and smart reader, fluff in the end, angst with happy ending

Word Count: 4206

A/N: English is not my first language.

It felt so lovely to feel the rough hands on your skin and hips after a long night of sleep. Though Dean had returned at last, you were too exhausted to speak up. All you could hear was him calling out to you; you were unable to respond. All you wanted was for him to touch you softly because you enjoyed it a lot and his touches would help you go to sleep.

He was taking off his jeans and t-shirt. You could hear it. You mumbled to him to come by your side already, as you smiled sleepily, hoping that he would crawl next to you and take you in his arms. However, as sleep overtook your body and mind, the words you were speaking vanished on the air.

Dean moved onto you and used an aggressive movement to shove the covers off your thighs and up your nightie. Your body froze, shivering. His hardness was palpable behind you, poking your back as though to rouse you from slumber. 

You cried in agony as he tore off your underwear without uttering a word; the abrupt motion of the torn lace burned your flesh. He extended your legs wide as you kept murmuring his name to let him know that he should be acting more gently, as he usually did. He took himself in hand, grunting like a beast, his cock cold behind you. It had been a while since you had sex.

While he was getting ready to fuck you from behind, you were exhausted. You meant to offer him an opportunity to sleep tonight and give him everything he needed in the morning, but it seemed as though you had forgotten how to talk when you spoke. You were just too tired.

You whimpered in pain as Dean was inside of you with a single, violent push. But when you heard him sigh with pleasure like he was an animal, you remained silent. You decided to give him what he needed because of this.

As his hands tightly grabbed your thighs, you heard him nearly laugh with joy. “Now that's a good warm cunt,” he said. You were unable to stop moaning in pain once more. 

You managed to say, "Baby, slow down,” with your eyes closed. You made an effort to ignore the ache in your legs and return to sleep. While there was pleasure as well, it hurt to see how quickly and without warning he started to fuck you like he didn't care how you felt. It was the first time he had shown such self-centeredness. 

He growled fiercely, “Shut the fuck up,” as he continued to slam your pussy from behind and tightened his grasp on both of your hips to get your body beneath him in a more proper position. His balls and hips slamming into your pussy was creating wet and obscene noises, and now your ass was in the air; they were bruised under his merciless hands.

You were worried about his reaction. Dean didn't seem like himself. You predicted that perhaps something had irritated him or gotten under his skin, and he felt comfortable enough to use your body in this way to calm himself down. Nevertheless, despite all that occurred in his life, Dean was always kind to you and never did anything to cause you pain. Especially not when you had sex. 

Your fingers firmly gripped the sheets, and your eyes welled up with tears as Dean continued using your body as he liked it. “Take it. That's how you should get fucked. Are you crying already?” He chuckled, becoming even more thrilled at hearing your whimper. “I'm going to fuck your little whimpering pussy like this from now on.”

You said, “Dean, baby, slow down,” as your body fluctuated between pleasure and pain. “I can't take it.” 

“You're taking it good right now, so shut up,” he firmly said, pressing your head against the blankets and collecting your hair in his palm. He was just keeping your head still; it wasn't like he was trying to choke you. You were powerless against his unusual strength.

Rather than engaging in conflict with him and escalating his rage, you chose to lose yourself in the pleasure he was offering in between the pain that he caused. He focused on the way his thick cock moved into you; it slipped easily inside you. He was quickly and brutally pounding it within your pussy. You let out a cry of delight when he found your most sensitive spot. 

“Oh fuck, yes!” As Dean used all of his power to fuck your throbbing pussy and restrain you from moving, it began to feel nice. You needed him to take his hands off of your hips because the pain started to hit hard. But there was enough pleasure in the way he squeezed your hips and smashed his cock inside of you to make your walls contract around his hard.

You could hear him groan with satisfaction. You attempted to give his body what it needed at this moment, sensing that he just wanted to be tough right now. You could discuss the issue tomorrow, whatever it was. After all, he was dealing with far too many awful things, and you wanted to support him up the same way his tender side lightened you in other days.

You screamed out his name as your walls clenched around him and your climax finally hit. He released his hold on your hair and placed his hand next to your head on the bed. You placed your lips on his wrist to quiet your moans and show him how much you cared about him and loved him; you wanted him to know that you understood him. 

He slowed down for a moment, but not before looking for his own pleasure. He needed to come. 

You mumbled, “Please, come inside, Dean,” hoping that would help him. 

He laughed and said, “You want me to come inside?” before fucking you raw once again. 

“Yes, please,” you whimpered. You squeezed your eyes shut and tried to bear the way he wrecked your skin as your orgasm faded, and he continued to torment you by hitting your most sensitive spot. 

“Quit behaving like a whiny bitch. Going to fill you full. Fuck. Do you want it inside?” Squeezing your hips so tight that your tears dropped to the covers, and he nearly yelled, “Take it then!”

He kept filling you with your hot seed, and no matter how hard you struggled to get free, each time he used his power to show that there was nowhere for you to go. This time, as soon as he gave your hurt ass a very hard spank, you couldn't hold back your tears. In addition to the pleasure, there was also an immense deal of pain. As you waited for him to release himself inside of you, your legs shaken. At least you were on the pill.

Your body was still shaking from pleasure and stress as he pulled out his cock with a rough move and dropped to your side with a loud, satisfied grunt. It was the first time Dean treated you in this manner. You were emotionally wrecked by the way he treated you since he was always so compassionate and gentle. You felt everything except for his love for you. 

Dean laughed out loud, taking a deep breath as his whole body shook with ecstasy. The result was satisfying. The way you called out his name and then sobbed after made him extremely pleased, knowing that the body he was in was used to fuck you nice and slowly. That was the proper way to fuck you.

Finally, adjusting his messy hair on the bed, he murmured, “Stop fucking crying.” Now all he needed was sleep. 

After you had rolled over on the bed to face him and discuss whatever was bothering him, you were going to say something sharp, but you froze when the full dark, devil-like eyes that were ordering you to shut up. Gripping the t-shirt on your body as though you needed a place to hide, you held your breath in terror. You felt stuck there and wanted to get out of the room. You knew you should have called Sam or Cas at that point. The better option would be Cas. But you didn't know how he would react if you called someone.

When his eyes went green again, you said softly, “Dean?” but you knew then that he was someone else. When he suddenly started acting as if he wanted to kill you and fuck you at the same time, you should have known better. “What happened to you?”

He appeared unhappy with your inquiry as he rolled his eyes at you. “Just go back to sleep,” he snapped. “Should I mount you again? Aren't you worn out already?”

You muttered, attempting to figure out what was wrong and what he had done to himself. “I don't understand,” you said. You knew just that he wasn't himself and that you desperately wanted him back.

Thinking quickly, you realized that if you had moved to avoid him, or even worse, if you had attempted to contact Cas or Sam, he could have seriously injured you. Thus, reluctantly, in spite of all the aches and bruises on your body, you place your shaking hands on his chest. Although you were bodily in pain, your heart was hurting more because you knew Dean was turned into a kind of demon. You felt lonely.

As soon as you put your hand on his chest out of fear, you believed there could be a way to reach out to him and at least make him act nicer. This time, your eyes were filled with fear and anxiety that if you didn't behave the way he wanted, he may truly hurt you. 

You said, trembling uncontrollably, “Are we okay?” 

You felt vulnerable, even with his come still dripping between your legs, but at least his t-shirt covered your legs, which were trembling from terror and cold. 

“Why are you talking so much? Did I not tell you to go to sleep? I’m fucking tired of your questions,” He said furiously. You nearly withdrew your hand to yourself when he spoke to you and gave you such a piercing look, but instead you drew nearer to him and carefully laid your body on his lap because you wanted to feel him. You moved a little hesitantly, but he didn't stop you.

You said, your voice trembling with sorrow, “Why did you hurt me?” You hoped he would understand you while your hands lingered around his tattoo.

“Hurt you?” he said, laughing aloud as he raised your t-shirt to reveal your painful pussy to his body. He stopped you by your hips as you tried to get away from his grip out of panic. “Does your handsome Dean give you tender, sweet fuck? It's not a decent fuck if he doesn't make you weep. Keep that in your little mind.” 

“I don't like this kind of animalistic sex. I hated it. It hurts all over now,” you complained, raising your voice a bit in the middle of it. You felt instant regret. “What did you to yourself?”

He sharply warned you, pressing his hands tighter on your skin. “Rise your voice to me again, and I'll break your legs,” he exclaimed. 

As you remained motionless and considered what to say, he let out a quick sigh and stared at your pussy eagerly. “Wasn't it good enough? Tell me that I'm superior to your soft-ass boyfriend. Tell me you liked the fuck I fucked you raw.”

“I didn't know you had a praise kink,” you muttered, attempting not to laugh out loud this time.

You quickly answered, “You're better,” as soon as his expression shifted and he gave you a look that implied he wanted to murder you. “I'm really satisfied though.”

He offered you a sly smile and looked pleased, even though it was evident that you were lying to him to calm him down. He grumbled, “Oh, yeah?” You stiffened up, feeling his hardness beneath you. “Did you like it when I used your body as I wanted while you cried for me to slow down?”

You still nod to him even if the comments wounded you and brought to memory how much he violated your body for his own pleasure. You needed him to trust you if you wanted to protect yourself from this. For this reason, you didn't attempt to run away from his harsh touch since you desperately wanted him back. Dean attempted to get you to bow down to him once again as his eyes went completely black, as if he wanted to show you what he had become, but you immediately resisted and moved on top of him. 

You knew he wasn't himself to listen to you just now, but you couldn't bear him like this again. There was no escape from his abuse. To resist him would only make things worse.

You begged, “Please.” If you told him you didn't want, you knew he wouldn't listen. “Let me...be on top this time. Please.” 

With your fingers caressing his thick neck and jaw, you continued to plead with him, thinking that at least if you were on top, you might make him torture you less. “Please, let me satisfy you.”

"All right, you greedy cunt.” He pulled off your t-shirt, threatening to "fuck you harder than before if I don't like it." He growled low. Your whole body shook from the cold weather. But the way he treated you and his actions caused the fright. He'd do as he told you, you knew. 

He took himself in hand and positioned his aching cock in your entrance once more, and you climbed on top of him, whispering, "Okay," trying to ignore the pain.

He thrust himself in you, gripping your hips tightly, and you bit your lips until they bled, pushing back your moan. It was unbearable. “Do you like it?” he grinned and said. He was having fun watching you up there.

“I like it a lot.” You lie in spite of your distress because. You were so in need of Dean's return that you started crying. You also wanted his soft hands to calm you down.

When you told him he was better, at least, he seemed to like it.

“It appears that you're mostly on top. Like he's the girl; he's so fucking weak and lazy. Pathetic.”

You remained silent and did your best not to talk about how much you like Dean's cute side and how much you enjoyed it when he treated you gently while the demon Dean was talking bullshit.

Rather than seeming submissive, you said, “It's nice to be at the top when you're tired.” Nevertheless, it wasn't. It was Dean's thoughtfulness that you found adorable. You were more pleased than anything by the sense of comfort he gave you. 

His body tensed as he yelled, “Do it better,” beginning to lose his sh*t already

Being so afraid and having him staring at you as if he may shatter your bones at any moment made it difficult to maintain composure.

Despite your pain, you fully took him and started riding him in the way that he preferred while gazing into his eyes with your teary ones

You placed your hands on his jaw and kissed him gently to let him know how much you cared and to feel connected to him no matter what. His body stiffened for a moment, and you could feel his confusion.

While he lay on the pillow and you kissed him, his hands gripped you tightly from your belly and began to pound into your pussy hard and fast. You continued to respond to his fierce kisses with kindness and softness to demonstrate your love, even though he was kissing you harshly and turning your lips red. 

You attempted to soothe him, to stop him from pounding into you like a dog in heat, by placing your hands on his. “Let me ride you, please.” You whimpered to get him to stop, fearing that his harsh touch would cause you to break down. “I want to satisfy you too, remember?”

“Fine!”

You moved very carefully on top of him, kissed every spot of his neck, and said, “You're better.” Than this. You didn't say anything to indicate that you needed him or that you weren't worried if he hurt you as long as he came back to you. Rather, you just moved on his cock and did your best to ignore your own suffering. 

He only grumbled, “Hmm,” and slightly relaxed his grip when he noticed your pace quickening. His hands squeezed your tits harshly, but then, unexpectedly, they began to feel a bit softer. Yes, he was definitely sleepy. 

“I want to satisfy you and make you happy, just like you do to me,” you sobbed into his ear as you could feel his cock throb and he was coming closer. 

You pleaded with him, “Please, Dean,” as you gave him a gentle kiss on his neck and face. “Please, come to me.”

He abruptly roared, “Stop talking!” and used his hard hands to put pressure on your hips. 

He began to moan in satisfaction as he pounded into you again, making you cry out in pain. Your most sensitive spots were being crashed by his pulsing cock, which made your aching walls clench him once more. You tried your best to stay focused, but the pain mainly overshadowed the pleasure. 

When at last you cried out in agony, “Please, Dean. I need to come around your cock too. Would you please loosen your hands a little? I'm so badly hurt that I'm not able to feel anything.”

Taking a deep breath, he angrily said, “You complain so much!” He was bored of your attitude. But once he saw you were having trouble performing at your best, his hands unexpectedly grew softer, and they rested on your back, as if he were making an effort not to pound into you hard again. “Come now or I'm going to get you on your knees right now.”

Fortunately, your orgasm hit again as you forced your body to experience the pleasure while you pretended nothing was wrong. You would be in hell otherwise. With a loud grunt, Dean joined you, his hands stilling your hips. Now that his head was resting on the cushion and your hands were pushing his chest while you yelled out, the manner he touched you was harmless enough. You bit your lip hard, praying he was exhausted enough to sleep while his white ropes painted your walls.

He said, “Get off of me now!” after he was done.

You murmured, “I'm cold,” as your body began to shiver. You felt exposed.

“And what do you want me to do about that? Go get dressed then.”

You picked up your belongings off the floor and informed him it was okay for him to say such awful things, affirming that he was superior to his soft side—a complete lie—while he went on to rant about how much you were whining like a bitch while putting on his clothes. You ignored him since all you wanted was for him to feel more at ease. Taking your phone as your heart was racing, you informed him you would take a shower, but he didn't seem to care since he was snoring immediately. 

As you were ready to pass away from panic, you contacted Sam and Cas to let them know everything that had transpired, including how Dean had gone insane and turned demonic. With trembling fingers, you were rapidly messaging them. When you told Cas, you were hoping he would arrive first. You quickly showered, and then you turned to the room before Dean could suspect and boost you. Once he realized exactly what you were doing, you knew he would fuck the shit out of you. 

You sighed with relief when you noticed Dean was sound asleep, and you passed the time on the bed just waiting for Cas to arrive. 

You stood between Sam and Cas, watching Dean, who was now strapped onto a chair and wearing handcuffs, stare at you as if he planned to murder you the moment he was free. Dean was about to depart when Cas showed up, but he was unable to make it. Thank goodness. 

"You're a dead woman, you stupid sneaky bitch," he glared at you and muttered. 

He emphasized the final phrase so strongly that you jumped and had to hide behind Cas to keep Demon Dean at bay as you gasped in fear. He hated you for betraying him and for preventing him from getting some sleep. 

“Still smarter than you,” Cas said harshly.

You raised your voice and yelled, “You can't do a shit to me.” You grew bold this time, thinking Cas would stop him if he tried to break free from the restraints. “Sam and Cas are going to help you.”

He yelled, “I should have broken your legs,” before you could even complete your statement.

“You should not have assumed that I would accept you this way in the first place.” As Cas closed his eyes as though he was done with both of your bullshit, Dean was losing himself in rage. “Save your energy, love,” you teased. “I'll be having great time with Dean and his very sweet soft side once Cas is done with you!”

“Lord,” Cas whispered as he slightly turned to look at how you hidden yourself behind him. You had gripped his coat with your fingertips as though you were a koala and he was the tree. Actually, you were willing to throw Cas as a sacrifice if Dean managed to get away. God forbid. 

You cling anxiously to his coat, but Cas eventually stops him before he loses his shit and threatens you with even worse things. Sam was massaging his head and done with his brother's mess. 

You watched with a heavy heart as Dean came back; the gloomy clouds that had fallen on him and you had vanished. When he realized what he had done to you and himself, his eyes became wide with fear. You could feel the shock and remorse he was feeling. After exchanging glances and confirming that there was no longer any cause for concern, Cas and Sam departed the room. Of course they would speak with Dean eventually, but not just now. At first, you were so terrified that you couldn't stop shaking, thinking that his demonic form would return and fulfill his vow.

Your despair revealed itself once again, and your eyes sparkled with relief and happiness. The longer you stared at him, the more his actions and words wounded you. Still, that was irrelevant now. As he stood up and watched you take off his chains and everything, Dean was trying to think of anything to say to make up for what he had done to you.

Now he stood in front of you, breathing deeply. You hugged him hard as soon as he opened his mouth to speak. Regaining his warmth and affection was all you needed; words or excuses weren't necessary. You needed to know and feel that you were safe now.

Your desperate embrace was instantly met with his hands drawing you nearer to him. 

You didn't want him to feel this way any longer, but he whispered, “I can't believe what I have done,” with embarrassment and sorrow. “God, I'm so sorry.”

You interrupted him with, “It's okay,” as you put your lips to his neck and smelled his hair. Everything was fine. “Just promise me that you are going to talk with me no matter what happens. Don't shut me out, Dean.” 

“I promise,” he sucked in a pained breath. His hands gripped your cheeks, forcing you to turn to face him. “I will never let this happen again. Never. I swear.”

You smiled at him with teary eyes and stated, “You better,” trying not to break down and worsen his feelings. “Demon Dean, your other form, vowed to the gods that he would kill me. He certainly meant it. In addition, he threatened to break my legs. I don't think he was joking.”

He kissed you tenderly and said, “It won't happen again,” as he started his regretful apologies. 

“We are going to be alright. I love you, Dean. Always remember this.” You removed his hand from your cheeks and gave his wounded palm an affectionate kiss. “Never forger this,” you said quietly. 

He held you tightly to his chest and murmured, “I won't. I love you. I will fix this, I swear.”

The pain he had brought about before vanished beneath his sincere and compassionate words. His arms wrapped firmly around you, giving you a sense of protection that erased the anxiety that he had caused. Although you knew it would take time for your body to recover, you knew your love was powerful enough to cure both of your hearts.

[em-ontv]

Get a room.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: After a particularly bad hunt, you were patching Dean up in the motel room, but he said he needed to be healed up the right way.

Content: fluff(?), kisses, Sam kind of being the third-wheel, no use of y/n, mentions of injury

English isn’t my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: 698

You and Dean had just stumbled back to the bunker after a long, exhausting hunt. It was one of those hunts where everything that could go wrong, did. Dean had taken a hit from some nasty vamp, even after you told him to be careful, but Dean? Nah, that word wasn't in his vocabulary. And while he made no big deal of the gash, you knew it was serious enough to need a little patching up.

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, shirt off, grimacing slightly as you cleaned up the deep cut on his shoulder.

"Ow—! Careful," Dean grimaced, shooting you a mocking glare. "You trying to finish me off, sweetheart?"

"Quit being a baby," you shook your head. "You're lucky this didn't go deeper."

“I’m always lucky,” Dean responded, a smirk spreading across his face despite his slight wince when you dabbed the cloth on his wound again.

"Uh-huh. I should just leave you to bleed out next time, it would save me a whole lot of trouble." you muttered, beginning to bandage him up, nodding in approval of your work once you secured it.

Dean shifted, sighed, then flashed you a lopsided grin. "I think you missed a step, sweetheart."

"What step?" you raised an eyebrow, confused.

“For me to fully heal… there’s only one thing that’ll work.”

“What?" you almost rolled your eyes. "Lemme guess, whiskey and pie?”

He grinned wider. “Nope. Kisses. Specifically, from you. On my face. All over. Only way this wound’s gonna close up right.”

You snorted. “Right. Because that's definitely how medical science works.”

Dean winced dramatically. “You don’t believe me? It’s a foolproof healing method. I swear it.”

"C'mon, don't leave me hanging here—this is life or death." He added for good measure, tapping a finger to his cheek.

Despite yourself, you laughed. “You are so full of it, Winchester.”

“One kiss. Or like… fifty. But who's counting?” He shrugged.

You sighed, fully aware you were playing into his game but too tired to fight it. You leaned down and pressed a light kiss to his cheek, where his finger tapped relentlessly until you gave in.

“There you go,” Dean said, clearly pleased. “But you missed a spot—” He pointed to another area, so you kissed it too. “And there—” Another kiss. “And the forehead—” You kissed his forehead. “And—”

“Okay, Dean, that’s enough."

"Not enough. I can still feel the pain." He let out an over-the-top groan.

You sighed in exasperation, considering to either just punch him across the face or keep giving into him—you chose the latter.

Just as you were placing more kisses onto his face—the grin on his lips made him look like a love-drunk idiot—the door swung open.

Sam walked in with some takeout bags, he froze in the doorway, eyes widening as he took in the scene: you, practically sitting on Dean’s lap, showering his face with kisses, while Dean looked way too proud of himself.

“What did I just walk into?” Sam groaned, immediately making a beeline to the table to avoid getting another glance at the two of you.

"Hey, it's a part of the healing process, Sammy." Dean smirked, looking over to his brother.

Sam blinked, then made a face like he just swallowed something sour. “Gross. Seriously, guys, get a room.”

“We’re technically in a room, you know.” you said, getting off of Dean who seemed too reluctant to let you go.

"A room that you walked into." Dean added, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Sam set the food down, still shaking his head in disbelief. "Yeah, well, next time, maybe give me a warning first so I know not to come in while you guys are having a whole smooch-fest."

"You're just jealous."

"You two are impossible."

"Buzzkill."

Sam just groaned in annoyance again, starting to unpack the food.

You couldn't help but let out a soft laugh, feeling a bit guilty—though not that guilty. You glanced at Dean, who tugged on your hand with a happy expression.

"Next time, we're giving you painkillers." you said, lifting your hand up and running your finger through his hair.

"Not a chance." Dean smiled.

[thebiggerbear]

where is she?

Summary: Soldier Boy only has one thought in mind when Homelander wakes him up: you.

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Female!Reader

A/N: Wrote this on July 29th. This was meant to be a drabble and I was going to experiment with a different format at the time but after taking another look at it close to a month later, I decided against it. I haven't seen Season 4 of The Boys yet but I did see a gif on here of something from the finale in regards to SB. This idea popped into my head that day and I wrote it out. Starts from the Tower scene in 3x08, an AU. Unbeta'd. Full dialogue in text is from 3x08.

Warnings: drug use; violence; violence against a woman; choking (not Butcher/Boys friendly)

Word Count: 1019

Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel

SB Taglist: @birdiellie; @heartlessdelusions; @brightlilith; @muhahaha303; @just-levyy; @solacedthistest; @deansimpala; @foxyjwls007; @onlyangel-444; @faephoria; @believeinthefireflies95; @globetrotter28

Jensen Taglist: @samanddeaninatrenchcoat; @deansbbyx; @lyarr24; @rebel-paladin; @deans-spinster-witch; @bts24; @roseblue373; @nancymcl; @c1gs-coffee; @peachhiz; @kickingitwithkirk; @fanfic-n-tabulous; @illicithallways; @mentallyillandgae

You burst into the room from the stairwell, finding Ben trying to fight three of your new supposed teammates off, his eyes full of fury and a slight tinge of fear immediately finding you as they slipped a mask over his face. “I’m not…going back…in that fucking box!”

“Get off of him! Now!” You angrily yelled, energy pulsing from your hands as you tried to rush them when Butcher caught you off guard and knocked you into a wall on his way to get to Ryan. 

“Sorry, luv.” His expression was full of trace amounts of remorse as he turned from you but you didn’t care. Your attention was on Ben alone.

When Ben saw you slam into the wall, even more fury seemed to emanate from him and he was finally able to push everyone off. His chest was a bright pulsing red that continued to get brighter and brighter; he was charged up and he was about to blow.

“You’ll kill everyone!” Starlight implored.

Ben’s expression didn’t change and you knew you had to get to him before he went off. You didn’t care about any of them, especially now, and you didn’t care for yourself. But Ben you cared about and you wouldn’t let him do this — not again. 

“Ben!” You called. 

Within the seconds it took for you to get to your feet, Maeve was already launching herself at him and they crashed through the window of the high rise, plummeting stories below. “No!” You rushed to the edge, watching their freefall in horror. “BEN!” You screamed before the impact of the explosion sent you careening backwards.   

When Soldier Boy was woken for the second time, uncaring who was there to greet him, he only had one question. “Where is she?”

America’s Asshole of a Son, now suited up, stared out at the city from Homelander’s newly renovated suite. His own son watched him, keeping his hands clasped behind his back.

“It could all be ours, you know.”

“Don’t care,” Soldier Boy growled out. “Where’s Butcher?”

Homelander sighed in disappointment and approached. He didn’t know much about the man whose blood he shared but one thing was for certain: Soldier Boy was laser focused when it came to revenge. He just happened to be focused on the wrong thing.

When he reached the older man, he studied him for a moment before nearly rolling his eyes. “You actually loved her.”

He shouldn’t have been surprised when Soldier Boy turned a lethal glare onto him, his pupils dilated from the drugs coursing through his system that he’d just snorted, but it still caught him a little off guard. Homelander didn’t feel shame or remorse; those were human feelings and he was a god. But right then, he felt like a small child scolded by that dark gaze and his shoulders subconsciously lowered an inch.

“Find me Butcher or I will find him on my own,” the Supe threatened before walking away. Homelander watched him go, angry that even while dead you somehow still managed to fuck with his plans.

Right before Soldier Boy was about to strike a killing blow to Butcher, Hughie yelled, “She’s alive!” The Supe froze and turned a scowl onto Butcher’s dickrest. 

“I promise,” the bitch insisted. “I can tell you where she is! Just don’t kill him. Please.”

Soldier Boy’s glare dropped to the man swaying in his hold, his face bloodied, bruised, and swollen. The supe's jaw tensed and he dropped the man to the ground, making him a silent promise that he would still pay for his betrayal, before his eyes landed on Hughie. “Take me to her. And you better be telling me the fucking truth or you’re never going to get to feel the warmth of this fucker’s mouth again.”

Hughie’s eyes widened but he gave a nod. A hint of a smirk teased the corner of Soldier Boy’s lips for a moment and then disappeared completely. Before following the bitch out the door, he gave Butcher one last kick for good measure.

Soldier Boy tightened his grip on Grace Mallory’s throat and lifted her body higher up the wall. He ignored Hughie’s whiny pleas of not hurting the old bitch. “Open it,” he ordered. “Now.”

Hughie did just that. The supe could hear a whirring sound behind him and he intensified his glare at the woman he was currently choking out before turning to look over his shoulder. Out of a drawer, a cryotube emerged, looking quite different from the one he had been in when his pussy of a son had found him. His breath caught in his chest when he saw you inside, slumbering peacefully, tubes wrapped around your barely dressed body. Rage began to flow through his veins when he realized that you had been stocked away inside a fucking sock drawer like a second thought — like you had never mattered. You were the only thing that mattered.

He turned back to Mallory, gritting his teeth, and his body shaking with fury. He saw the lack of fear in her eyes and in a split second, his decision had been made. He flung her across the room, not caring about the sickening cracks he heard when she made impact. For good measure, when Hughie tried to run to her aid, he brutally knocked the kid aside and made his way towards you. Within seconds, he had the cryotube open and he ripped the wires from your body. He curled his arm around your shoulders and carefully hoisted you up into his lap.

A few heartbeats later, your eyes slowly began to open, your lashes fluttering repeatedly as you returned to consciousness. Your gaze struggled for a minute to focus on the image in front of you but when it did, you rasped out in disbelief, “Ben?”

A soft smile played upon his lips as he ferried your hand to his bearded cheek. “Yeah, doll. It’s me.” 

When you attempted to return his smile, he leaned down to whisper, “I found you,” before he gently pressed his mouth to yours.

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[windchesterluver]

Just you

Summary: dean fails to understand that you need more then a body guard, you need your boyfriend.

Notes

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings; arguments, mention of s€x



Dean slammed the door of the motel room as you walked in behind him. "You don’t think I care!?" he shouted, louder than intended. "Dean, don't," you pleaded, your exhaustion evident in every breath. You had said the wrong thing in the moment, accusing him of not caring. After that, he had remained silent for the rest of the drive back to the motel, with an iron grip on the wheel. Now, all that pent-up emotion was erupting.

He froze hearing the exhaustion in your voice, but he couldn’t let what you said slide. He cared way to much and took your accusation as a personal attack. “No dont bullshit me…” he tried to keep his voice low but found it hard to control his emotions “of course i care! I care way to much!” He stated firmly taking a step towards you unhappy with the distance. “Can you blame me? Youve barely said anything to me dean!” You exclaimed taking a step closer. Your chests less then three inches from eachother. “Thats what this is about? That im not good with words?” He questioned with clear annoyance. You scoffed crossing your arms “your being mean” you whispered under your breath unable to look him in the face. “Well look in the mirror sweetheart” he said coldly. Your head snapped back in his direction “excuse me!” You shouted in disbelief. “Come on, you've called me mean and uncaring, like i wouldn’t take a bullet for you,” he explained smacking his hands to his side.

“You dont get it!” Your accusation was full of anger, but your face displayed distraught, eyes fixated on your boyfriend. You had to turn around, unable to face him without the feeling of tears gathering in your eyes. His cold expression dropped as you turned your back to him, his chest pang with guilt. He never meant for things to go this far. “Enlighten me, im not a frick’n mind reader” he explained, still with a hint of annoyance. He grabbed your forearm, turning you to face him. He waited in silence, letting you gather your thoughts. Your lip quivered looking up at him, scared of how he might react to the truth.

“I dont want you to jumping infront of a gun, or slaying a demon…i want you to show me you care by talking to me…and we never talk” Dean's expression fell, his once intense glare now fading into a look of quiet hurt. Keeping loved ones safe was all he knew; it was his only way of loving, never knowing you needed more then that. “Just to talk?” He questioned almost not believing you. You crossed your arms and bit your lip to hold back tears as you nodded “just one conversation that dosnt lead to a hunt or fùcking…i just want you” you explained whipping a stray tear from your cheek. He swallowed the lump in his throat “i didnt know you wanted that” he said quietly, taking a step towards you.

“De..” you tried to protest, but your words were swallowed by his actions. Drawing you into his arms, holding you with a grip that conveyed more than words ever could. You relaxed against him “i don't need a hunter…i need my boyfriend” you mumbled into his shoulder. His hand found its way to your hair, smoothing over it softly “I'm sorry” he whispered in your ear with a wavering tone. He was filled with such anger towards himself that holding you was the only thing preventing him from breaking something.

“Can we talk now?” You asked softly, removing your head from his shoulder but remaining in his embrace. He nodded silently “I'm all ears.” He reassured you. A small smile appeared on your face “About you” his eyes narrowed “About me?” He repeated back. You silently nodded looking up at him with wondering eyes. “Anything Dean” you explained seeing how long it was taking him. “You know, when i was a kid, i wanted to be a fireman” he admitted with a small smile. Your eyes widened “Really?” He nodded “i thought rescuing people was pretty badass, oh and the fire trucks were sweet” he explained staring into your amazed eyes. You chuckled at his comments “You’d be a great firefighter Dean” his smile dropped slightly “Yeah, maybe in another life”

“This.” You mumbled quietly. Deans head tilted not understanding what you meant “i like this.” You restated, moving back and taking his hands in yours. He smiled at your words, finally understanding. He liked. This too, just being here with you, holding you, talking with you. He felt like such a fool for not realizing sooner. “Yeah, me to…” he spoke softly bringing his thumb under your chin, tilting it up slightly so he could connect his lips to yours. His hand traced down to your hips, pushing you against him as his lips continued to graze yours.

“Your everything” you breathed against him. He pulled back, taking all of you in. “But let's not fûck tonight” you smiled placing your hands on his chest. He chucked leaning his head back “How dos dinner and a long late-night talk sound” he suggested raising his eyebrows. You smiled widely, reaching your arms around his shoulders to bring your lips back to his. “Id love that”

[jaredpadonlyyyy]

𝘼𝙁𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙋𝙐𝙍𝙂𝘼𝙏𝙊𝙍𝙔

• 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏𝙔𝙔, 𝙎𝙈𝙐𝙏

• 𝟭𝟴+ 𝙊𝙉𝙇𝙔𝙔𝙔

• 𝙋 𝙄𝙉 𝙑 (𝙒𝙧𝙖𝙥 𝙞𝙩 𝙪𝙥!) 𝙁𝙀𝙈𝘼𝙇𝙀 𝙍𝙀𝘾𝙀𝙄𝙑𝙄𝙉𝙂, 𝙎𝙀𝙓, 𝘿𝙄𝙍𝙏𝙔 𝙏𝘼𝙇𝙆, 𝙐𝙉𝙋𝙍𝙊𝙏𝙀𝘾𝙏𝙀𝘿 𝙎𝙀𝙓.

• 🖤 • • 🩶 • • 🩶 • • 🩶 • • 🩶 • • 🩶 • • 🖤 •

It had been a year since Dean had disappeared along with the angel Castiel. It’s also been a year since they all lost Bobby singer as well. But it’s been 6 months since she decided it was time to move on from looking for him. All she did was find dead end after dead end. Sam, he hadn’t looked for his brother, but he found happiness in a woman named Amelia. He was happy and that’s all that mattered. It’s also been 3 months since she had Dean’s baby. She didn’t know she was pregnant until weeks later. So, she spent 9 months pregnant stressing about looking for the love of her life and the father of her baby. But it was dead end after dead end. So she had to put that aside and take care of herself and try to move on.

Sam and his new girl were there most of the time. They lived in the same town as her. He visited her at times to help with her son Milo, so she can work and feed herself and her son. There were times when she would get into a depressive state and wouldn’t be able to get out of bed. So, Sam and Amelia would help her out until she would start to feel a little better.

Today was Milo’s first birthday and she had made a party to celebrate it. She had invited her co-workers with kids. She had also invited Sam, but he hasn’t made it to the party yet. The party finished and he never made an appearance. “So, is there anyway I can offer you a drink?” Henry caught her attention. She looked over at him and she smiled at him. “I need to clean all of this up.” She told him as he nods his head. “Looks like you need the drink.” He told her.

“Honestly I do need that drink.” She said as he smiled at her. They walked over to the kitchen and she takes out two glasses and the whiskey she had. She looked over at the backyard and saw one of her good friends playing with her one year old. She pours the whiskey into the glasses and hands one to Henry.

“So, what are you doing this Friday night?” He asked her as she took a drink from her glass. “Well, nothing really. It’s my day off.” She said as he nods his head at her. “So, can I take you out this Friday night?” He asked. She looked over at him. She when she opens her mouth. The doorbell rings. “One second, please”

She walked over to the door and opened it seeing it was none other than Sam. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been—.” Her words fell short as she made eye contact with those beautiful mossy green eyes. “Oh my god.” She said as she covered her mouth with her hands. “Hey, baby.” He said as a tear falls from her eye. “I-is it really you?” She asked him as he softly smiled at her. She ran into his waiting arms as he hugged her tightly, his eyes closed as he wanted to feel her embrace since the moment he made it out of purgatory. “I missed you so much.” He whispered.

“Uh, hi.” Henry broke their hug apart. Dean looked over at him frowning. “Who’s this?” He asked as she looked over at Dean. “Uh, can you give us a second?” She asked the brothers. They both nodded as they walked into the home. “Um, im sorry. Uh, I don’t think I can go on that date.” She told him as she could see the heartbreak in his blue eyes as he slowly nods. “You’re with Sam, aren’t you?” He asked her as she laughed. “Sam? No, Dean, yes.” She told him. He looked at her weird. “He’s the father of my son.” She said. “Fine, whatever.” He said as he started to walk away. “Henry! Henry!” She called out but he just kept on walking and ignored her call out of his name.

She sighs and walked into the home and she saw Sam and Dean in the kitchen. Dean heard footsteps coming his way and made eye contact with her and he softly smiled. “Sorry about that.” She said as Sam just shakes his head. “I get it.” He told her just as her friend Melina comes inside the house with Milo in her arms. “Mama.” A little voice said as she gave her to her. “Mama?” Dean said as he looked at the little boy.

He walked towards her as she picked him up in her arms. “Dean, this is Milo.” She told him as he looked at the one year old. “Dada?” The baby said as he looked at Dean. “He is your son.” She told him as he looked at her. She could see the shock written all over his face. “He’s mine?” Dean asked her as she smiled. She nodded her head. “I haven’t been with anyone else, Dean.” She told him as he takes in a deep breath. “Wow, uh.” He cleared his throat at the news. “Can I, uh, carry him?” Dean asked her as she nods her head. He reached for Milo, and the little boy didn’t have a problem going with the Winchester man. “Dada?” Milo said looking into his dad’s eyes.

“I’ve showed him pictures.” She told him as he looks at her with teary eyes.

• 🌙 • • • • • 🩶 • • • • ✨ • • • • 🩶 • • • • • 🌙 •

Dean told her that he was going to put Milo to bed. And he went to go do that. She knew Dean, was always good with kids. They always loved him when they met him. Sam and Y/N were waiting for Dean to get back to the kitchen as they both drank from their drinks she poured into 3 glasses. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t come.” Sam told her as she shakes her head. “Oh no, it’s fine.” She told him. “You were with your brother.” She said just as Dean came back up with a smile on his face. Sam finished his drink and looked at them. “All right, well, I’ll see you both tomorrow.” Sam said as he walked out of the kitchen leaving the two hunters alone. “Goodnight, Sammy.” Y/N said.

After Dean walked him out and locked the door he walked back into the kitchen. “So, when did you find out?” Was the first thing he asked her as he walked into the kitchen. “A month after you were gone.” She said to the man as he nods his head. “Where were you?” She asked him as he walked closer to her. “I was in purgatory.” He told her making her eyes widen “of course.” She whispered to herself. “Why didn’t I think of that.” She looked up at the Winchester man.

“You looked for me?” Dean asked her thinking that she didn’t. “Yeah, I did. For months I looked for you.” She said to him. “But I started showing, and my pregnancy became a high risk.” She told him as he nods his head. “I had to calm down or I could’ve lost Milo.” She said. “I understand.” He told her as he puts his hand on her cheek. She leaned onto his touch and she sighs. “I missed you so much.” She whispered to him. “You’re the only thing that kept me going in purgatory, getting back to you, was my only fucking motivation.” Dean told her as she smiled up at him.

“So, are you going to kiss me. Or do I have to ask for it?” She asked him as she looked up at him. Dean then smirked down at her. He leaned down and he placed his lips gently on hers. He grabbed her by her waist and pulled her towards his chest as he made the kiss deeper. Y/N moaned into the kiss as he then picked her up and sat her on the counter, his hands giving her thighs a gentle squeeze going up her dress Y/N pulled away for a breath making her gasp as he kissed down her neck to her chest as he pulled down the strap of her dress. “Fuck, Dean.” She said as she runs her hands through his short locks as he pulled down her dress making her chest pop out from her dress. Dean latched on to her nipple biting it as she moaned. She wrapped her legs around his waist.

Y/N gets off the counter letting the dress fall from her body and he looked at her. “Mmm. I seen you kept yourself busy.” He said as he looked at her very fit body. “Well, I had to lose the baby fat.” She told him as he shook his head. “I wouldn’t mind some baby fat.” He told her making her chuckled as she reached for him belt buckle taking it off along with his jeans and his boxers hitting the ground as his dick sprits up. Y/N grabbed onto it spreading his pre cum around his tip as she pumps it making him breath heavy as he hasn’t been touched in nearly over a year

Dean moaned his eyes closed as she slowly pumped her hand up and down his hard dick. Dean opens his eyes and takes off his jacket letting it fall to the floor as well as his shirts. He picks her up as she laughed. He asked her where her bedroom was and she lead the way. He opened the door going inside with her.

He tossed her on the bed making her bounce a few times as he closed the door behind him. Y/N opens her legs so he could get a good view of her pretty pink glistening pussy. He watched as she puts a finger into her mouth wetting it, as she looked at his mossy green eyes. She takes it out her mouth with a popping sound making him groan as he dick jumped as he got excited. She slides it down to her clit and she rubs it slowly making her let out a moan as she hasn’t felt any kind of pleasure since the last time she was with him. “Dean, fuck.” She moaned softly.

Dean growled as he rushed over making her giggle. He got on top of her as he roughly placed his lips on hers grinding his dick on her folds making her gasp into the kiss. Dean pulled away from the kiss and kisses down her chest, her stomach, the top of her pussy. His fingers spreading her lips open as he looks at her aching pussy. “So, wet for me.” He said as he looked up at her. He leaned down and sucked on her clit making her let out a loud moan. “Ah!” She moans

Dean flicks his tongue on her bundle of nerves as his ring finger and his middle finger go to her entrance. He slides them into her slowly making her arch her back off the bed as her leg shakes a little bit. “Oh my fuck!” She gasped as the tip of his fingers touched her G-Spot. Making her legs shake as she encased him between her thighs. “Cum for me, cum for me baby.” Dean told her as he relentlessly started to pick up his pace with his fingers inside of her making her into a moaning mess. “Mmmpm.” She moaned and she groaned as she clenched on his fingers, his tongue flickering her clit making her a shaking mess.

“Don’t stop, oh god!!” She squealed as the coil in her stomach exploded making her see stars, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as her walls flutter around his fingers, her juices spilling into his mouth. Twitching she slumped into the mattress breathing hard as he slowed down talking out his long fingers out of her sensitive pussy making her gasp at that.

Dean stood back up and leaned down to kiss her. She moaned as she tasted herself on his lips as he kissed her. “Please, Dean I need you.” She whispered to him. “Tell me how much.” He asked her, his voice deep and husky. “So, so, much.” She told him as he lines himself at her entrance. He immediately slides inside of her making her gasp loudly as he thrusted inside of her. Dean groaned as he felt her around him. “Fuck, baby so tight.” He grunted as he slowly starts to move his hips. “Fuck.” She lets out a loud moan and a gasp as he started to pick up his speed at a good pace. She hugged Deans shoulders making him put his head onto the crook of her neck, his breath fanning on her neck. Her grunted as he kept his steady pace. “Fuck, yes! You f-feel so good!” She said

Dean pulled almost all the way out and thrusted back inside hard. “Aaah!!” She moaned and gasped at the same time as he did it a few times. The tip of his dick hitting her sweet spot over and over, bringing her closer to the edge to her second orgasm of the night. “Faster please.” She said as she wrapped her legs around his waist, her heels dig into his ass making him so go deeper into her. “Ooh! Dean!” Her mouth drops open as her eyes rolled to the back of her head.

“Cum for me baby, let it go.” Dean whispered against her neck. “Aaah!” Her back arched as she digs her nails against his shoulders as he slams into her hard. “Keep going, keep going, keep goooing! Aah!” She saw stars as she exploded. Her walls fluttering on his dick. Dean sat up on his heels and hugged her legs looking at her face as she shook uncontrollably as he fucked her so hard. He lets go of her legs putting his hands on her hips buckling them into the air grinding them on his dick as he grunted. Dean started breathing heavy as he felt his dick start to twitch.

“I’m cumming, god. Aargh!!” Dean threw his head back as he kept on grinding her hips as he coats her walls with his seed. Shot after shot as he moaned so loudly. “Fuuuck.” He groaned letting her hips go as he falls on top of her his hot breath hitting her neck. Both still felt a few twitches from his dick as he just stays still. They both do. Satisfied smiles on their faces. Dean started to pull out. “Ah.” She moaned softly as he rolled to the side his dick softens up.

Their hearts calming down from the rush they just felt. Their bodies calming down from that high.

“Whew.” Dean said as they both chuckled. Y/N went into his waiting arms with a smile on her face. She was about to say something when Milo started to cry. “Oop, fun over.” She said making the hunter laugh. Y/N got up as she stumbled a little making the Winchester man laugh. “What? It’s been a whole year of no orgasms.” She told him as she holds herself up.

• 🌙 • • • • • 🩶 • • • • ✨ • • • • 🩶 • • • • • 🌙 •

[white-fox-1415]

Late nights and soft saviors

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

Genre: Comfort? Fluff?

Summary: Dean has a nightmare but a soft little something comes to the rescue

Warnings: none, has one curse word

A/N: somebody hold this man and tell him it’s all gonna be ok 😭

Dean and y/n had a bit of a rivalry going on to say the least. When she first moved into the bunker, on account of Bobby’s recommendation, her and Dean clashed almost instantly. She was smart and mouthy and absolutely loved correcting him and back-talking him. But Dean being the sassy man he is, often retorted with a clever comeback, building a small fued between the two hunters.

It wasn’t like they hated each other or anything. They were more like frenemies, though they’d never admit it. Some would even say there were other types of tension to be lingering between the two hunters.

It wasn’t long until y/n found out about Dean’s frequent nightmares, considering that their rooms shared a common wall. She would hear his mumbling late at night, or the sound of the tv he used to drown out his thoughts. She felt a bit sorry for him, even if she never let it show.

She was almost like Dean in that sense. Hesitant to show emotion, to show people she was vulnerable. Her heart was locked away, surrounded by a wall, just as fortified as that of the city of Jericho— impenetrable, or so she thought.

But unbeknownst to her, Dean was slowly chipping away at her walls, starting to weasel his way into her heart with every snide remark, or witty comeback, but especially the stares she pretended not to notice or return.

***

One night she was up especially late, trying to finish a book she had started a few days prior. She did in fact finish the book, and as she was returning it to the lofty stack in the corner of her room, that’s when she heard it— the pleas, the mumbles, the groans.

Dean was having another nightmare. A bad one. Y/n stood there of a moment, conflicted. She could pretend she didn’t hear anything, act oblivious, and just go to bed… or she could go try and wake Dean, maybe comfort him, make sure he was ok.

After one instinct won over the other, she began to head for her door, picking up a small stuffed teddy bear she had on her bed, one that had a lot of meaning to her. She padded over to Dean’s door and knocked. It wasn’t loud enough to wake him so she knocked louder. She heard groans and cusses on the other side of the door as the man woke from his sleep. She heard him make his way to the door so she quickly set the bear on the floor and rushed quietly back to her room.

When Dean opens the door he didn’t see anyone and was rather confused as he looked down the hall. That’s when he noticed it, the bear. “The fuck?” he mumbled as he bent over to pick it up. He recognized almost immediately, even in the dark, as he made he way back into his room. He sat on the edge of his bed, just looking at the bear in his lap, playing with it a bit, moving its paws around, as he fell deep into thought.

Why’d she do that? Does she know about the nightmares? Could she hear me through the walls? Does she hear me every time? Does she pitty me? Does she care?

He sighed deeply and lied back down in bed, propping the bear up next to his face. He continued to stare at it for a bit before he hesitantly took it into his hold again, even going as far to bring it up to his face and smell it. Amber and vanilla. Smells just like her, He thought. And with that he closed his eyes pulling the bear closer to his chest, setting his masculinity to the side for a while and indulging in the comfort of a soft stuffie, something he seldom experienced in his childhood.

Before he knew it a single tear was sliding down the side of his face and dripping onto his pillow. Not long after he was reaching for his phone and typing out the simple message,

“Thank you”

before attempting to surrender himself to sleep once more. She read the message and smiled into her own pillow and she drifted off to sleep soon after.

[t1red-twilight]

don’t call me “d”

summary: a girl pushes herself onto dean during a case.

content/warnings: gn!reader, angst?, fluff?, light hurt/comfort

notes: sorry if your name is victoria. i’m sure you’re lovely

word count: 1.6k

masterlist d. w. masterlist

you, dean, and sam were currently up north in new england working on a case. just the morbid usual: a couple of strange deaths, all the doors were locked, et cetera, et cetera. the most recent victim was a man named evan, who was almost decapitated.

halfway through interrogating the most recent victim’s friends and family, the victim’s sister decided that she would tag along. she had caught on to what the three of you were actually investigating and she wanted in.

her name was victoria, but insisted that she be called vic. a feisty thing, she was. ‘vic’ had long red hair, and did not care for any sort of personal space. at least, with dean she didn’t. when you introduced yourselves to her, it was explicitly expressed that you were dean’s partner. she didn’t care to respect that in the slightest.

at first, she was seemingly respectful. this façade didn’t last long. soon she was fruitlessly flirting with dean and completely ignoring both you and sam.

it didn’t help that perhaps in another circumstance she might’ve been dean’s type. she was tall and slender with a playful attitude. you knew from the beginning that you were in for a long one.

vic’s brother had an uncle that he was close with. she had willingly given his address, and that’s where the four of you were headed.

you grumbled in annoyance. vic had not let dean have any space, no matter how hard he tried to walk in tandem with you. eventually you had just given up and just walked beside sam.

it was evident that you were pissed, sam immediately sensed how livid you were. “you alright?”

“just peachy!” you replied, sarcasm flooding your tone. as you said this, dean turned and slowed so that he could walk with you and sam. you tried to distract yourself by examining the neighborhood, but your train of thought was cut off by dean speaking in a confrontational tone.

“victoria, you can leave. we’ve got this. we’re professionals.” dean gave her a deadpan look and when she didn’t move, he followed with a tautly-stretched smile. she still didn’t move.

“don’t be silly, d. i’m coming. evan was my brother.” dean muttered a couple profanities under his breath.

the look of irritation very present on his face. this didn’t last long as you had reached your destination.

vic did the honors of knocking on her uncle’s door. it took the man a moment to answer, and when he did he was clearly in a state of distress. it makes sense when one of your close relatives meets an untimely, violent end.

however, what vic did next shocked you to your core. when her uncle answered the door, she reached behind her and pulled dean to her side. then she spoke in a loud, clear tone, “this is my boyfriend, dean, and his friends. we just wanted to talk about evan, see how you’re holding up. is that alright?”

the man nodded and opened the door, but when you and sam were about to walk in she shut it in your faces. she wiggled her fingers at you in a wave. your blood was boiling. what did she think she was doing? did she honestly think that by forcing herself on dean would make him want her?

you turned and sat abruptly on the porch stairs. sam followed you. “she’s a little, uh, spirited, isn’t she?” sam turned to look at you. your brows were furrowed and illustrated your expression with the disdain you were feeling.

“yep.” you responded curtly. you were seeing red. sam tapped his foot against the concrete in impatience. “i don’t like her.”

“she’s extremely pushy.” sam sighed. the both of you sat in silence for about half an hour before dean and vic finally emerged.

dean reached down and helped you up off of the stairs. he then spoke broadly to sam and you. “well, the guy knows nothing more than what we knew. evan was a stand up kid who was suddenly found dead with defensive wounds, but no windows were broken or doors unlocked in his apartment. apparently he visited his uncle the night before it happened and was acting a little frantic.”

vic hung off of dean’s arm. “see, d, i told you. that old guy doesn’t know anything.

dean shook her off and gave her a curt smile. “don’t call me d.”

sam decided it was a good idea to look over evan’s apartment again. you had decided to look around the kitchen, where the body was found the morning after.

damn, evan’s apartment was cold. you wondered if that was the default setting or a symptom of something else. it was eerily quiet, too; quiet enough that your ears rung. you squatted to get a better look at the place where the body was found, and you saw some blood that had crusted over.

while you were examining the baseboards and the blood that had clearly been missed by the clean-up team, you heard someone approaching you from behind. “some blood was missed by clean-up. that’s gross, don’t you-“

you turned, fully expecting it to be one of the boys from the weight of the footsteps, but coming face-to-face with the spirit that had evidently killed evan. “dean! sam!” you shouted. you tried to get to your feet, but you weren’t fast enough. the spirit got close enough to you to knock you back.

unfortunately, neither party arrived before the spirit lunged at you and slashed your upper arm. the pain was sharp and quick, and you soon felt warm blood trickle out of the wound. the ghost vanished soon after.

you were able to find some bandages in the back of the impala and cover it up with a long sleeved button down of dean’s. you figured you’d worry about caring for it properly later once everything was over. hopefully, no one had seen how much you were bleeding and you could get away with pretending you were fine.

later that night, after some more snooping online (mostly on sam’s part), you could find the grave that held the corpse you were looking for.

dean had dug up the grave of said ghost. he salted it and burned it, and that was the end of it. you were quite surprised; in the past the burning hadn’t been too successful. if you were being honest, your rage blacked out most of the events that happened for the rest of the night.

the dirt crunched under your feet as you walked back to the impala. vic trailed after dean; your shoulders tensed. the scene mirrored a mother duck and her ducklings. luckily, you made it to the passenger seat before someone else could. you slammed the door and your arm stung with pain again. you hoped that no one had seen you flinch.

the ride back to vic’s place was awkward, to say the least. soft rock filled the silence, and that calmed you slightly.

the impala jerked to a stop in front of vic’s house. “do i really have to go, d?” she poured. how pathetic of her.

dean turned and answered her instantaneously. “yes, and don’t call me d.”

her pitiful pout worsened, “are you sure? we could have some fun?”

“yes. get out of my car.” when she didn’t, he followed up. “now, please.” finally she listened to what dean was saying and left. dean didn’t even wait to see her to get inside, he just sped off to the motel you were staying that night.

the motel bed was calling you. at arrival you practically jumped out of the car and into the room. it was just a typical run-down motel, but you couldn’t wait until you drove out of town and forget today ever happened.

“woah there tiger. wait up for the rest of us,” dean jogged to meet you. “let’s take care of your gash now, alright?”

you closed your eyes and sighed. suddenly you were extremely aware of dean. you were very much emotionally exhausted. “it’s not that bad. the bandage will hold up just fine.” at this, dean grabbed your hands.

“please? just let me take care of you.” the shines in his eyes was convincing enough.

that’s how you found yourself in the dirty bathroom, sitting on the toilet with dean sealing your wound with stitches. “you’re not mad at me, right?”

you were stumped that this notion. “no? why would i be?” you blinked in poorly veiled shock.

he spoke plainly, “because victoria was falling all over me all day today.”

you looked astray to the confusing red shower curtain. “that’s not your fault though. it’s not your fault that she can’t respect your boundaries.”

“i just care about what you think, you know,” he stated, not looking away from binding your arm with more gauze.

hesitating, you thought both about what to respond with and how you actually felt about the whole situation. you thought it was clear that you weren’t mad at dean. you were just mad at how vic couldn’t stand that one man couldn’t want her. well, obviously it hadn’t been. how long had dean thought you were upset with him? did he-

dean broke the silence. “i lost you there for a second.”

you shook off your thoughts. “oh, sorry. i don’t blame you for her actions at all. you stated what you wanted several times. kind of crazy that she fully ignored us telling her we’re together,” you expressed with a lopsided smile.

he looked up into your eyes, “so we’re good?” his green eyes showed the slight apprehension he still carried.

you lightly tugged your arm out of his hold and held his face in your hands. “of course we are, d,” kissing his forehead afterward.

“i love it when you call me that,” he smiled.

“you missed,” he said.

“huh?”

“you missed.” he guided your face down toward his and greeted your lips with his. you kissed him in a way that you hoped affirmed him that you were both okay. that today hadn’t changed how you felt about him in the slightest. you felt him grin against your kiss. you pulled away and smiled at him.

suddenly you were aware of the toilet seat beginning to be uncomfortable as you sat, so you stood. dean followed.

“it’s cold out. let’s go warm up,” he said impishly. while flirtatious, you were aware he meant just to sleep.

“yeah, that sounds great,”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

A Father’s Love?

Sam Winchester & daughter!reader, Dean Winchester & niece!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You (9-10) are left alone with your dad, who currently is missing his soul, and it doesn’t go well

Update: part 2 is here

“Uncle De, please don’t go.” Your voice was low as you tried to keep your dad—who was in the bathroom—from hearing. “I-I don’t wanna be alone with him.”

Dean felt awful for leaving you like this, but he had no choice. You hadn’t been comfortable with Sam since the moment you’d found out he was back—the same time Dean did. You’d been living with Dean, Lisa, and Ben, and when Sam revealed that he’d been back all along, you instantly didn’t trust him. Dean had been angry, sure, but somehow he just hadn’t seen what you had—that your dad wasn’t really himself.

Of course, eventually the three of you—including Sam, who hadn’t been sure what was wrong with him—discovered the truth: he was soulless. As soon as Dean find out, he felt horrible for not understanding your hesitance before. Now that he knew, he tried to avoid leaving you alone with Sam whenever possible, especially since he didn’t really trust Sam without a soul.

But sometimes it was unavoidable.

“Kiddo, you know I don’t have a choice,” Dean said.

“I don’t like it here with him,” you insisted, refusing to let go of Dean’s sleeve. “He-he’s like daddy’s evil twin or something.”

Dean swallowed. “Sweetheart, he’s not evil, ok? He’s just a little weird right now.”

“Daddy’s weird,” you argued. “This guy is bad.”

Dean ran a hand over his face.

“Baby, please. You know I have to go. He’s gonna be good, I promise, and soon enough he’s gonna be back to regular-old dad, I swear.”

Dean left without another word, and the silence that hung in the motel room was deafening.

“Dean left?” Sam asked as he exited the bathroom. You ignored his question—he didn’t actually care, after all—and you went to sit on your bed. You could feel Sam’s eyes on you as you went. The motel stayed the worst kind of silence as you pretended to read while Sam just stared at you.

“What do you want?” You demanded finally, dropping the book. Your voice was nowhere near as firm as you wanted it to be.

“You hate me.” It wasn’t a question.

“You hated me first.” Unlike Sam, you couldn’t look at him while you accused him. Even without looking at the shell that used to be your dad, you could feel tears pricking at the back of your eyes as you waited for him to speak.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffed. “I mean, I don’t particularly care about you, but I don’t hate you.”

Somehow, apathy was even worse.

“Just leave me alone,” you mumbled. You shouldn’t have been surprised when Sam shrugged and obeyed. You felt your eyes drifting to him as he pulled a beer from the fridge and took it to his bed. His eyes caught yours and he frowned.

“What? You said leave you alone.”

“Dad wouldn’t have listened,” you mumbled, but Sam heard you anyway.

“Well, I’m not your dad,” Sam shrugged. “I’m not Sam, not anymore.”

“Ok.” You turned to face away from him. “Now I mean it. Leave me be.”

But Sam was suddenly intrigued, and he ignored your request.

“You and Dean wanted me to stop pretending to be him. This is just me not pretending.”

“Doesn’t mean I have to like you,” you said, your eyes downcast.

“Exactly, and I don’t like you either. I mean, you’re kind of a brat.”

“I told you to leave me alone,” you said, finally looking up.

“You beg Dean to keep you with him all the time like I’m gonna hurt you or something, it’s pathetic.” Sam seemed to be getting a real kick out of finally saying all that he’d been thinking over the past few weeks.

“I said leave me alone!” You yelled at him, but he didn’t listen.

“I mean, I remember caring about you when I was that other guy, I just…I just can’t remember why.”

“Go away! Leave me be!” You were on your feet now, shoving and pushing at Sam, but the giant man didn’t even flinch.

“I mean your just a little pest!”

“Stop it! Just go away!”

Crying, overwhelmed, and so unbelievably hurt, you started to slap at the guy who used to be your dad, smacking his neck, his face, whatever you could reach. Suddenly, Sam wasn’t having so much fun anymore.

“Hey!” Though your slaps had little effect on him, one harsh blow from Sam had you flat on your back, dazed and breathing hard. You could still feel the impact of his palm against your cheek, and you couldn’t scramble away from him fast enough.

“If you’re gonna give it out, you should be prepared to take it,” Sam muttered gruffly.

You were on your feet in an instant, and you were out the door before you’d even made the decision to leave.

“Hey!” You could hear your dad—no, not your dad—following after you, and you barely made it five steps out of the room before his arms were around you and dragging you back in.

“Stop it!” You were crying now, and you couldn’t remember when you’d started. “Let me go!”

“If I lose you, Dean’s never gonna help me,” Sam grunted, shoving you back into the room and closing the door behind him. “So how about we all just calm down here.” It wasn’t a request; it was a command. “You don’t hit me, I won’t hit you.”

That would’ve sounded reasonable enough, if not for one thing—your desperate smacks to his skin had done nothing to him, they hadn’t even hurt, but you could already feel the side of your face swelling where he’d hit you. But you didn’t argue with Sam. You didn’t even speak. You just sat on your bed and turned your back on him, pulling your legs up to your chest and burying your face in your knees so you could cry in peace.

Sam left you alone for several minutes, but his sudden hand on your shoulder had you flinching back violently and scrambling away from him.

“Would you calm down?” Sam huffed as he let go. He was holding out a frozen bag of peas. “Put this on it.”

You took it hesitantly and slowly pressed the cold bag to your face.

“Look…” Sam’s hand was back on your shoulder, only now his giant fingers were right at the junction between your neck and your shoulder, and they were squeezing way too hard. “Dean would kill me if he figured out what happened, ok? And he certainly wouldn’t be helping me anymore. So maybe…maybe you just tell him you fell in the shower or something, ok?” He said it like a question, but the grip on your shoulder and the ice in his eyes told the truth; he expected you to lie to Uncle Dean, and you didn’t know what he’d do if you didn’t.

“Ok,” you whispered, and his hand was gone in an instant.

“Ok,” he said firmly.

Then he turned his back on you and left you alone to cry.

…

The swelling was down by the time Dean returned, but you’d looked in the mirror long enough to see a black and purple bruise forming along almost one whole side of your face.

You resisted the urge to run to your uncle the moment he stepped in the door—if you acted scared, he would figure it out, and Sam would be mad. Instead, you stayed where you were with your head down, your hair covering most of the bruise.

“Hey,” Dean greeted. “You guys ok?”

“We’re fine,” Sam said simply. You’d been hoping that he would lie for you, so you didn’t have to, but he seemed content to leave things quiet.

“You sure?” Dean was watching you now, noticing your uncharacteristic silence.

“I’m ok,” your voice was hoarse from crying, and Dean wasn’t fooled.

“What’s wrong?” Dean was in front of you in an instant, brushing your hair behind your ears. His hand recoiled when he saw the bruise. “What happened?”

“I—“ you looked up to face Dean, and your voice caught in your throat when you saw Sam staring daggers at you from behind your uncle’s shoulder. “I f-fell.”

“Fell?” Dean frowned.

You nodded. “In-in the shower.”

“Sam.” Dean’s voice was dangerously quiet. “Out. Now.”

“Me?” When had Sam become such a good actor? He looked as innocent as ever. “What did I do?”

Despite his acting, Dean wasn’t buying it for a minute.

“Get out! I need to talk to her alone.”

The moment Sam was out the door, Dean was tilting your chin up with a feather-light hand at your chin.

“He hit you, didn’t he.” Dean wasn’t asking.

“I fell,” you lied, the tears in your eyes giving you away.

“Don’t lie for him,” Dean pleaded. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t kick him out,” you pleaded. “We-we have to help him get his soul back. This isn’t him, Uncle Dean.”

“I know it’s not,” Dean sighed. “But I need you to be safe.”

“I’ll be safe when my dad is back.”

…

“You stay away from her.” Dean didn’t give Sam a chance to speak when he let him back into the room.

“Fine.” Sam was done lying—it hadn’t done any good.

“And if you ever touch her again, you’re gone, understand?”

Sam didn’t look happy, but he couldn’t argue.

“I understand.”

…

You slept in Dean’s bed that night—you hadn’t shared a bed with your father since he came back soulless—and Sam went out to do whatever it was that he did while you guys slept. Apparently being soulless meant you didn’t sleep.

“Are you ok?” Dean asked. “And don’t lie to me.”

“It doesn’t hurt so bad anymore,” you mumbled. “I just…I just miss him.”

Dens pulled you into his arms as you started to cry.

“I know, sweetheart. I miss him too. We’re gonna get him back, ok? I promise.”

“Ok Uncle Dean.”

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