#Dean one shot

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Oh, Baby

Summary: When Dean is cursed on a hunt and turned into a baby, the reader has to take care of him along with Sam. Dean however, is a bit more adult than they might realize...

Pairing: Baby!Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language

“Nice job, Sam,” you said, Sam sighing in relief.

“I think she was trying to hex me before I put her down,” said Sam, shaking his head. You hummed, glancing around and pursing your lips. “Where’s Dean?”

“We split up. I thought he came back to you,” you said.

“I thought he was with you,” said Sam. You both took off in opposite directions, combing through different rooms of the house. You were in the kitchen when you heard a baby start to cry somewhere. You opened a door and saw it go down to a basement. You had your gun out, following the sound as it got louder, finding an infant shouting it’s head off in the middle of the room.

“S’okay, baby,” you said, shoving your gun away and picking him up off the cold floor. “You’re alright. The witch is gone and...”

You noticed a lump of clothes nearby, Dean’s navy jacket and his gun in the pile. You stared at the six month old in front of you, wet green eyes staring at you.

“No, baby. No, you aren’t...” you said, the baby scrunching up his face before he was crying again. “Dean?”

He stilled for a moment, recognizing his name but he started crying again and burrowed himself into your jacket collar.

“Okay. It’s okay. We’ll fix it Dean. Stop crying baby. We’ll fix it.”

“Sam,” you said, sitting in the backseat of Baby with Dean an hour later, Sam trying to install a baby seat in the back. “Sam! Hurry up!”

“What?” said Sam, glaring at you, Dean shouting even louder. “Dean! Stop crying!”

“Don’t shout at him, he’s a baby,” you said. “Get that damn seat together so he can get some sleep.”

“He’s shouting his head off and it’s not exactly helping,” said Sam, fiddling with a strap. You managed to get Dean in a diaper, any attempts at finding an adult stuck in that tiny body not resulting in anything beside Dean recognizing his name. “Put him in some clothes. He’s probably cold.”

“Well hand me the bag with the onesie’s in it then,” you said, Dean yelling some more. “Dean, baby. Please calm down.”

“I got it,” said Sam, clipping something in place. He took Dean from you and got an earful, Sam strapping Dean in as he kicked his legs. “Dude. Relax. Here.”

Sam leaned into the front seat and grabbed a bag, shoving a little blanket over Dean and tucking it in, Dean calming right down and conking out like a light.

“Finally,” said Sam, grabbing the bag and shoving it in the back. “Let’s get home so we can get this figured out.”

“Hi Dean,” you said softly the next morning, Dean grabbing his toes in the makeshift crib you’d made out of a laundry basket. “Good morning.”

He scrunched up his face as you caught the smell, wiping at your nose.

“Okay so you’re really like a baby,” you said, picking him up and setting him on your bed. You got a towel under him and some wipes, gagging when you plucked off the diaper. Dean wasn’t crying so far which was an improvement but he got red in the face when you tried to put a fresh one on. “Dean, you have to wear it.”

He tried to pout and you sat next to him, running a hand over his head.

“Agg!” he said, kicking his feet.

“Are you an adult in there?” you asked. Dean seemed to ignore you, staring up at the ceiling. “Or do you really think you’re a baby?”

“Neither,” said Sam, knocking on the door frame as he came in. “I figured out the spell. He’s a baby in most senses of the word. He likely only remembers us as family and that we’ll take care of him. But he’s not arguing that he doesn’t want to wear a diaper because he’s adult Dean. He just doesn’t want to wear one right now...I think.”

“How long is he going to be like this?” you said, Dean grabbing hold of your finger and sucking on it. Sam swallowed and stared at his feet. “Sam.”

“...Six months,” said Sam.

“Six fucking months!” you said, Dean dropping your hand and starting to cry. “Sam we can’t take care of a baby for six months. We’re damn hunters.”

“We’ll have to figure something out,” said Sam.

“I don’t know how to take care of him though,” you said. “I can change a diaper but I don’t know how to feed him or-”

“We’ll buy some parenting books I guess,” said Sam, staring at Dean. “I have some other news you won’t be happy about.”

“What?” you said.

“Jody called. She needs backup on a hunt,” said Sam.

“One of us has to stay here with him,” you said.

“Can you stay?” said Sam. “I ran out this morning and got more stuff for Dean but...he doesn’t cry as much around you.”

“Fine but if I call you better answer your phone. Better yet, give it to Jody, she was a mom,” you said.

“I know,” said Sam, walking inside, putting a hand on Dean’s head. “Be good for Y/N. We’ll try to figure out how to make this as painless as possible.”

By the time you got Dean in a diaper and a onesie, Sam had already headed out. You carried Dean on your hip to the kitchen, finding the jars of baby food and instant formula Sam had bought, Dean giggling as you sat him in a high chair at the counter.

“Well you sound like you’re in a better mood,” you said with a smile, picking up the different jars, finding some sweet potatoes and swirling it up before you set it in front of Dean. You turned around and grabbed a frozen breakfast sandwich from the freezer, tossing it in the microwave.

“Afba agah uf,” said Dean. You turned around, Dean staring at the jar and then you.

“I’m so sorry, you can’t feed yourself,” you said, shaking your head as your grabbed the little spoon and held it to his mouth. “Go ahead, Dean.”

Dean shook his head, pointing at the sandwich you were making.

“No, that’s adult food Dean. You can’t have that,” you said. Dean blinked at you slowly and you swore you saw an eye roll in there. “Dean...are you really a baby?”

He shook his head again, your eyes wide.

“Okay. After breakfast, I’m going to look into that spell Sam found some more. Maybe he missed something,” you said. Dean stared at you, blinking a few times.

Then he spit up all over himself.

“Did you just throw up?” you said, Dean shaking his head again. “Do you have any idea what I’m saying?”

Dean shook his head, patting his hand on his tray.

“Oh course not. Well...might as well feed you like this in case you make another mess.”

“Dude,” you said, Dean giggling on the floor of the bathroom. “You got potato in my hair. I don’t even…”

Dean laughed as he looked up at you, shirt covered in baby food.

“I’m glad you find this hilarious,” you said, peeling off your shirt. You grabbed the little tub meant for washing babies one and under and filled it with warm water. Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it when you sat him in it but he started splashing and he had a big smile on his face.

You used way too much soap, accidentally squirting an adult size amount in your hand but Dean didn’t mind that you had to dump out his soapy water for fresh. When you finished with him, you wrapped him up in a big towel, Dean leaning back in the thing and practically falling asleep on the bathroom floor. You kept an eye on him as you took a quick shower, Dean still passed out once you took care of yourself.

“I really hope this doesn’t take six months.”

Dean’s POV

Pretty much the only reason I wasn’t shouting was because it freaked Y/N out. I’d tried earlier in the day to make her understand that I was a full fledged adult trapped in an infants body and she’d almost caught on but she misunderstood. Throwing up was inevitable with how awful that baby food crap tasted and now we were back to square one.

I didn’t want to act like a baby. I didn’t feel like a baby. But stuff just happened on its own. One minute I’m sitting there, the next I’m wrapped up in a towel in the bathroom with no idea what happened in between.

Y/N was drying herself off after her shower, giving me cautious glances every few seconds while I sat there. Fuck, this was awful.

“What’s with the grumpy face?” she asked, kneeling down next to me. “Do you have to go potty? Do you want your diaper on again?”

Diaper? I’d worn a diaper already? Oh hell no. I was not dealing with that for a day let alone six months.

“Okay, okay,” she said, shushing me and picking me up. I tried to squirm but she sighed and started to walk out of the bathroom and to our room. She threw her towel down on the bed and put me on top, moving around the room before she pulled out a baby shirt. It wasn’t a onesie at least but I would have preferred something with less fire trucks.

She set it it down next to me, cocking her head before she ripped off the tag and undid the bottom clasps, a sigh out of me making her smile.

“Well they didn’t have any black or flannel so we had to settle for the trucks. Unless you wanted kittens and puppies,” she said with a smile. I shook my head, Y/N, laughing. “I know, you want some clothes on. One second little dude.”

She turned around again, dropping something on the other side of the bed I couldn’t see.

Next thing I knew I was being picked up by the legs and when I sat back down, there was something soft there.

“I am not wearing one of those!” I shouted, the words translating to some sort of very loud and high pitched shriek. Y/N blinked a few times and rubbed her ears. I yelled at her again that at least I had control over that function thank God. At least I was pretty sure I did.

“Do you think this is fun for me?” she said, hands on her hips. “Please stop screaming at me. I have to do this.”

She sounded so...off. So already beaten down. I closed my eyes and relented. Maybe after a little while she’d figure out I didn’t need it and we’d figure out some kind of bathroom signal.

God this was going to suck.

Eight Hours Later

“Dean, you haven’t gone to the bathroom all day,” she said, cocking her head at me after dinner, kneeling next to the crib she was forcing me to sleep in. “Are you sick?”

I grumbled at her, trying to say I really had to take a leak and she hadn’t gotten a single message that I was this close to losing it.

“Do you have a fever?” she asked, putting her hand on my forehead. “Sam bought one of those baby thermometers I think.”

“I need to take a piss! That’s what’s wrong!” I said, glaring at her as she stood up.

“Again, screaming does not help,” she said, looking around the room. “Just...stay right there. I’m gonna go see if it was the food I gave you.”

She walked out of the room and I about lost it. I couldn’t get out of this damn thing without help and I was not going to…

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said, glaring at my lap. “Stupid infant body and I only went because my body forced it and Y/N! Get me out of this thing!”

Y/N came rushing back in at my screams, frowning when she saw how mad I was.

“Oh, you went!” she said. “Maybe you were just shy.”

“Shy my ass!” I shouted, pointing at my lap, instead whacking myself in the leg.

“You’re a very angry baby,” she said, picking me up and moving me over to the changing table she set up. I was glad to be out of the wet one but I most certainly was not going back in one.

I kicked when she tried to move me again, hitting her in the face.

“Ow. Dean,” she said, holding her hand over her nose, pulling it away and a little trickle of blood coming out. She wiped it away with a tissue but more came out.

And for some reason I had to start sniffling. Of fucking course. Did I feel bad? Yes. But it was not a cry worthy occasion and now she was picking me up and telling me it was okay.

“Calm down. It was an accident,” she said, rubbing up and down my back. “I still love you, Dean.”

I leaned back as best I could to look at her, Y/N smiling at me.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” she said. “Just like I know you’d take care of me if I got stuck as a baby.”

“Y/N,” I groaned.

“Okay, okay. I know the diaper pisses you off. How about we make a deal? Daytime, no diaper. I’ll take you every couple of hours to the bathroom. But if we have to go out or at night, you have to wear it, just because you might have to go and I can’t get you to one in time,” she said. “First accident though and it goes on all the time. Agree?”

I nodded, that plan sounding much better.

“I wonder how much of you is an adult in there…” she said. “You can hold it I’m guessing...maybe that’s why you hated your baby food.”

I made a face, Y/N laughing at me.

“Okay. As soon as your teeth come in, you can have some fruit and other stuff,” she said.

I frowned, rubbing my hand up to my mouth, wincing when I realized she had a point.

“Don’t worry babe. Your teeth will start to come in soon I’m sure.”

“Sup Dean?” said Sam, smiling at me when he finally came home. I wanted to yell at him to go give Y/N a break but I hadn’t quite figured out how to spit out the pacifier in my mouth yet.

“Oh, let him watch his cartoons. He’s starting to teeth and that pacifier is his new best friend,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes at her, Y/N giving it right back.

“Is that a potty face?” you asked. I shook my head, Sam wearing a big smile. “Don’t get your hopes up. Being able to hold it and an affinity for pie flavored foods are the only adult things I’ve been able to concretely confirm.”

“It’s only been a week,” said Sam, sitting down next to me. I rolled my eyes, trying to shift away but he pulled me into his lap. “You hanging in there?”

“I hate this. I hate you. I hate everything,” I mumbled under the pacifier, Sam chuckling as he bounced me on his knee.

“He doesn’t like that,” said Y/N, Sam pulling me off his knee to lay back in lap instead. “So how was the hunt?”

“A pain. I’m glad to be back,” said Sam, stretching back on the floor.

“Uh, be careful with him,” said Y/N.

“I’m just taking a quick nap,” said Sam.

“She’s worried about you crushing me, doofus,” I mumbled, Sam sighing as he sat up with me. He picked me off the ground, way higher than Y/N did and I instantly clung to him. The pacifier fell out of my mouth when my jaw dropped, something I’d have to try to remember, and Y/N was instantly over.

“Give him here,” she said, Sam handing me off, Y/N bending down to grab the pacifier and give it back to me. “He got scared. New stuff you have to go slow.”

“He knows I wouldn’t hurt him,” said Sam.

“He knows but...like he goes full blown baby sometimes and you have to slow down. Most of the time he’s just grumpy and wants to watch TV,” she said. “There’s a learning curve to him.”

“Sorry,” said Sam. I sighed when Y/N handed me back but then I sort of liked it, getting to be tall again. “So...what do you do for fun, Dean?”

“Seriously? Jackass,” I mumbled, Sam tickling my stomach.

“That’s a cute little sound,” said Sam, cocking his head. “You smell funny.”

“He needs a bath,” you said, sitting on the couch. “Would you mind giving him one?”

“No!” I shouted, shaking my head, spitting out the pacifier again.

“Uh, does he not like baths?” asked Sam.

“No, it’s one of the few things he likes actually,” you said. “Do you want me to show Sam first?”

I sighed but nodded. Y/N needed the break and it wasn’t like I hadn’t done all this crap for Sam when he was little.

Ten minutes later I was in the tub, surprised at how gentle Sam was.

“Does he sleep through the night?” asked Sam, wiping a cloth down over my hair.

“He does. I don’t,” you said.

Oh boy. This again.

“Trying to research still?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. I’m paranoid something’s going to happen to him all the time and it’s my fault he’s stuck like this. I shouldn’t have let him go off by himself,” you said.

“Stop being stupid. I’m a grown man, or at least was. We did that hunt exactly how we were supposed to. By the way, I’m fine. I’ve started to figure out his crawling thing so don’t worry about me,” I said.

“What the blabbering little guy just said,” said Sam.

“You understood me?” I said, Sam seeming to ignore the comment. “Oh. You said blabbering. Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here and make squeaking noises for your entertainment.”

“Someone is talkative today,” said Y/N, a relieved little smile on her face. “I’m happy Sam’s home too. But we should get you out before you get too pruny. Sam, you can learn the joy of getting him into his pajamas.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.”

The Next Day

“What happened?” said Y/N. Good. She was home and she could yell at Sam properly.

“He had an accident and then he started yelling and he got even louder when I put him in a diaper. He hasn’t been quiet since,” said Sam.

“Dean, I know we had a deal but you had an accident. I think you’re too little to-“

“It was his fault,” I yelled, pointing at Sam. “He forgot to...I will destroy you both if you-“

“When’s the last time you took him to the bathroom?” she asked Sam.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Has he gone since I took him at breakfast?” she asked. Sam looked away and thankfully Y/N was getting with the program. “You have to take him Sam. Of course he had an accident. His bladder isn’t as big as yours.”

“I don’t get why he just doesn’t wear the diapers,” said Sam.

“I will kick your ass when I’m big again Sam,” I growled, Y/N settling me on her hip.

“He doesn’t like them and you upset him. This is a baby but it’s Dean too. If there’s a shred of adult in there, we’re going to try to make him feel like himself,” she said.

“Best fucking girlfriend ever. I so owe you,” I said, leaning down to give her a hug.

“Well...don’t piss on me again,” grumbled Sam.

“Maybe now you learned your lesson.”

Three Months Later

“Hi Dean,” said Y/N when I crawled over. “What’s up?”

“Guess what I figured out how to do,” I said, grabbing her leg and standing up, able to take a few shaky steps on my own before falling on my butt. “I’m mobile.”

“Well look at you! You’re growing up all over again,” she said, scooping me up to sit in her lap. “We made it halfway there. Just another few months and you’ll be big again.”

“Trust me, I’m counting the days. Figuratively I mean since telling time is a bit hard right now but you know what I mean,” I said, Y/N humming. “Uh oh. That’s the bad hum.”

“Don’t worry, Dean,” she said. “Sammy’s just checking on a last ditch effort. I’m not getting my hopes up is all. Besides, you and I are going to have my favorite thing right now.”

“It’s nap time,” I said, grunting when I started to get carried. “At least this part isn’t too bad.”

Something was off when I woke up twenty minutes later. Y/N had her head in her hands and was crying on the bed.

“Sam,” she said into her phone. “You said six months.”

“Rowena is going to work on a counterspell to get it to reverse back,” he said.

“But she only has three months left or else he’s gonna he a baby permanently. I don’t want to raise my boyfriend. I’m barely keeping it together,” she said.

“Rowena is the best witch there is. She’ll figure out what the other witch did,” said Sam. “Just try not to let Dean see you upset or he’ll think something’s wrong.”

“Too late for that,” she said, moving her hands away, looking over at me with a sigh. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“So I’m fucked,” I said, trying to cross my legs in the crib but making no progress. “Fuck.”

“Dean,” she said. She picked me up and gave me a hug, wiping her face off when she pulled back. “Don’t worry. I will always take care of you. Big or small.”

“I really hope Rowena can figure this out.”

Three Months Later (Almost)

“Big day today Dean,” said Y/N, rubbing her hand over my head.

“Yeah. In about an hour I’m a baby for good and I’m sort of thinking that means I’m going full baby mode and I’m gonna forget everything and everyone and how to even talk…” I said, Y/N shushing me.

“Don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry,” she said. “And if things go south today...don’t be scared because we got you.”

“How’s he holding up?” asked Sam, Y/N giving him a sad smile. “He has to understand if he’s so upset.”

“I know. I know part of him is an adult in there,” said Y/N. “Rowena’s in the library sweetie and she’s going to keep working as long as we got left.”

“I think I’ve got it,” said Rowena, rushing into the kitchen. “I need materials though.”

Sam took off with her, both of them taking far too long in my opinion. Y/N eventually plopped me down in the high chair in the library, Rowena shoving a mixture in a bowl at Y/N.

“He has to drink it,” she said.

“Dean, don’t throw this up,” said Y/N, tilting the bowl, some of it dribbling down my face. “Get a damn bottle. Now!”

“Come on. At least a sippy cup, not the stupid bottles again,” I grumbled, Y/N taking one from Sam, pouring the slop inside and twisting the cap on.

“For once, do not fuss with this thing,” she said, putting the bottle to my lips. I wanted to scoff at her but she squeezed it and liquid flooded my mouth. It tasted awful and she just kept squeezing more in, forcing me to swallow. I drank most of the bottle down as a timer went off, all three of them jumping about a foot back.

I peeled open an eye, bottle hanging from my mouth and ass currently sat on the floor and pieces of broken high chair.

“Dean?” asked Sam. I spit the bottle out and stood up, blinking down at myself.

“Excuse me but I’ve had to piss the last two hours,” I said, moving past them all for the bathroom, ripping the obnoxious baby outfit off and sitting down. “Oh, I never thought I’d be so happy to be using the bathroom again.”

Reader POV

“Hey, Dean?” you said, walking into the bathroom, Dean currently walking around the space in a pair of boxers, happy as could be. “You doing okay? All adult in there again?”

“Yes. Thankfully,” said Dean. “I’m just enjoying things like brushing my own teeth and shaving and oh yeah, I can actually talk again.”

“So how much-”

“I understood everything. I acted a lot like a baby whether I wanted to or not but I understood it all,” said Dean. “Thank you so fucking much for not making me use the damn diapers.”

“Well...I figured there was some of you in there,” you said. “Sorry about the bottles. And baby food. And pacifier. And the onesies.”

“Eh, they grow on you,” he said with a shrug. “I wasn’t a very well behaved baby.”

“You kept out of trouble for the most part,” you said, wrapping your arms around him, so glad to have him back to his normal size.

“I want a burger and steak and sweet potato fries,” said Dean.

“Okay. You can have all that,” you said with a laugh. “You can even drive to the store if you want.”

“Oh, I am looking forward to it.”

[supernotnatural2005]

Ain’t no party like a Halloween party.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You convince Dean to attend a halloween party and bring a childhood fantasy to life.

Word count: 2814

Warnings: SMUT! Fluff, Dean is easily manipulated.

AN: Happy halloween guys!!👻 What better way than to celebrate it with our favourite hunter!? 😂 I hope you enjoy some spicy, fun halloween themed times with Dean. Feedback is always welcome! 💕

My Masterlist

“Come on Dean. Please? For me?” You begged your boyfriend one last time.

You had been invited to a halloween party by an old college friend you still kept in touch with. Even though you were a hunter, you felt having a social life was important to, at the least, normalise the insanity a little.

“Don’t you think our lives are scary enough?” Dean groused as he continued his work on Baby. “Why’s this such a big deal to you?” He questioned you over his shoulder as he reached under the hood. You’d been bugging him about it for the last 24 hours, since you got that damn email.

“This is a party full of skanky versions of cute animals and hockey-mask wearing plebs. I don’t think it holds much of a flame to our lives Dean.” You countered. “Besides, it’s good to have fun once in a while.” You shrugged, as if that were obvious.

Dean stood straight and looked at you then, assessing your pout and that doe-eyed-look. The one that usually got him to say yes to anything.

Contemplation. His first mistake. Now all you needed to do was seal the deal. And so you stepped closer to him and slid your hands up his chest and around his neck.

“I promise i’ll make it worth your while.” You whispered, a hairs breadth away from his lips. His eyes widened in curiosity, he was intrigued. Second mistake.

“Please.” You begged once more, sweetening the pot by running your fingers through his short strands. His eyes fluttering at the sensation.

Got him.

“Ugh, fine!”

The power of seduction was such a wondrous thing sometimes.

“Ah, thank you!” You exclaimed excitedly and smushed his cheeks with your hands as you pulled his lips to yours.

“I promise you won’t regret this.” You told him as he stood with his lips still puckered, watching you turn and scurry away out of the garage. What had he gotten himself into?

Halloween Night.

You’d been incredibly secretive about what costume you were going to wear, since he’d agreed to go with you. No matter how many times Dean asked or guessed, he couldn’t get a peep out of you. He’d eventually given up on the third day and decided to just trust it was going to be, “a nice surprise.” As you’d put it.

So he sat patiently at one of the tables in the bunker’s library, waiting for you to finish getting ready. You had commandeered your shared bedroom with him and forbid him from entering until you were done. That was almost 2 hours ago. And Dean was beginning to get impatient.

He pulled uncomfortably at the collar of his white shirt, hating the item of clothing, even when he had to wear it as an undercover agent. But you’d insisted he did, along with a pair of his lighter, blue jeans, convincing him thoroughly the night before with that talented mouth of yours.

It was nearing on 7’o’clock by the time you made your appearance, that fact made known when he heard your voice.

“So, what do you think?” Dean’s head snapped up from his endless scrolling on his phone and he almost choked on his own breath.

Holy fucking shit.

There you were, dressed in a form-fitting little purple dress, with green accents. Knee-high lilac stockings and the highest pair of heels he’d ever seen, to match. Your hair wasn’t its usual colour either, instead it was a fiery orange, falling in soft curls against your shoulders. To complete the look, tied neatly around your neck was that famous green ascot.

Dean couldn’t quite believe his eyes. You were like a childhood fantasy come true.

You made your way over to him. Heels clicking loudly against the wooden floors before you came to a stop before him.

“You’re gonna catch flies, Winchester.” You smirked as your finger tips pressed up under his slackened jaw. He blinked out his stupor and shook his fog-filled mind.

“Y/N, sweetheart. You look incredible.” He told you truthfully and you couldn’t help but feel a little bashful. Truth be told, you were a little nervous for him to see the outfit. Considering Daphne Blake was one of Dean’s top fantasy women.

“To make it even more perfect. I got you a little something.” You reached into your matching purple clutch and pulled out a bright orange ascot tie.

Dean looked at the fabric and then to you and then back at the fabric again.

“I’m not wearing that.” He scoffed humourlessly, shaking his head.

Oh you poor naive fool.

—

You arrived at the party as it was in full swing. Sam had dropped the two of you off, since you were both planning on having a drink and Dean didn’t feel safe leaving Baby alone over night.

“Have fun kids!” Sam called out the open passenger-side window, snickering to himself at Dean’s warning look. You giggled too and waved at Sam as he pulled away before tugging on Dean’s hand.

He grumpily pulled at the tie around his neck, looking up at the modest colonial-style house, pumping out generic pop music and filled with people dressed even more ridiculous than he was.

“Come on grumpy. Let’s get some drink in you.” You suggested and pulled him along with you.

Once inside, you found your friend quickly and gave her a big hug. It was nearing on a year since you’d last seen her. She was married now, to a big time doctor and children were the current topic of conversation.

You were happy for her, even though a part of you saddened at the fact her life was one you’d never have. You loved Dean with all of your heart, but you also knew you both didn’t get ‘normal’. Which is why you suppose you clung to something as simple as going to a halloween party.

As the night drew on, Dean gradually relaxed, even more so with the help of the doctor’s good whiskey. He’d even pulled you onto the makeshift dance floor when Iron Maiden - Hallowed be thy name, started playing.

When a slower song began to play, Dean pulled you in close by your waist, yours instinctually wrapping around his neck. You were both glistening with sweat and gone were your ascots as you rocked back and forth.

“You know i get it now.” Dean began, leaning in close so you could hear him over the song. “I know our lives will never be all sunshine and rainbows, like Doctor Rob and Shelia’s.” You smiled a little at his nickname for Shelia’s husband. He’d been calling it him all night.

“But,” he continued and you met his sparkling green eyes. “I wouldn’t do this life with anyone but you. Whether that’s hunting demons and ghosts forever, or the white picket fence. Every scenario, i’d choose you.” He confessed and you felt your eyes well up and heart soar.

Instead of words, because you had none. You pulled him down for a kiss worth a thousand of them. However, what started out as a tender declaration of love, soon turned heated as he slipped his tongue into your mouth. You moaned at the feeling and suckled at the talented muscle, making his fingers flex on your hips.

He pulled you impossibly close as you all but made-out like a pair of horny teenagers on the dance floor. And gasped when you felt the hard length of him through his jeans.

“Fuck. You have no idea what this outfit does to me.” He tells you breathlessly, his hands gliding up your sides and around your back as he begins to kiss along the line of your neck.

“I think i do.” You pant at the feel of his sinful lips on your skin and expertly manovre a hand down between you both, to palm the impressive bulge in his jeans.

You hear him grunt into your neck as you subtly rub him through the fabric, tactically looking around for any watchers. Luckily the room was dark enough and everyone was preoccupied with their own partners.

“Follow me.” You whisper in his ear before slipping your hand in his and guiding him toward the stairs. He all but groans as you ascend, your dress having ridden up enough for him to see the bottom of your pert ass.

You navigate your way into a closed bedroom and flick on the light as Dean slips past you. It’s empty, thankfully and you lock it to be sure it stays that way.

Dean turns and lustfully drinks you in. Your lips are kiss-swollen and red, your hair beautifully tousled and chest heaving in anticipation. He still can’t get over how lucky he is.

“So do you regret this? Coming here?” You ask and Dean hungrily observes the sway of your hips, your legs, made longer by the ridiculous yet incredibly sexy heels and the way with each breath, how your perked nipples press against the material of your dress, as you saunter over to him.

When you’re within arms reach, he surprises you by pulling you to him, making you squeal in shock.

“I think you know the answer to that sweetheart.” Dean growls before cupping your cheeks and crashing his lips to yours. You moan at the intrusion of his tongue and thread your fingers into his short strands, pulling tight as he all but devours you.

He groans into your mouth at the feeling, pleasure boarding on pain. His hands grab and glide against your body before coming to a stop at the hem of your dress.

Dean suddenly pulls away, panting and pupils blown and you’re not much better.

“Now, there is something i’ve been curious about since the moment i saw you in this outfit.” Dean ponders and you tilt your head in faux curiosity.

“And what is that?” You play along, much to his amusement.

“Whether or not you’re wearing any panties.” You gasp as he roughly lifts your dress above your bare ass. His hands quickly smoothing over your pant-less behind.

“Oh you’re a naughty girl.” He chides playfully, and gives one of your cheeks a slight smack, making you inhale sharply and jolt into him. He soothes a large palm over the marked area before palming both cheeks and lifting you off the ground.

You quickly wrap your legs around his waist as he carries you to the bed, dropping you gently on the plush sheets. You stare up at him with a mixture of hunger and admiration, his eyes mirroring the exact same.

With his eyes locked on yours, he unbuttons his shirt enough to pull it over his head. The move is undeniably sexy and you clench your thighs together at the wetness rapidly gathering between.

He smirks at the movement and drops to his knees. His shoulders level with the bed and his head level with his own halloween treat.

You feel his hands on your hips before he pulls you along the bed and closer to its edge. You bite your lip and try not to blush as he parts your legs, pupils blown wide as he exposes you to him.

Your pussy is glistening and he can’t help but groan at the sight.

“Fuck. You’re beautiful.” He whispers, more to himself. Your mouth drops open and a sigh of pleasure escapes you at the feel his lips against the inside of your thigh. You drop your head back onto the bed, eyes fluttering closed as he repeats the process on the other leg.

“Baby, please.” You beg, each pass of his warm breath against your core, a torture you needed to end.

Thankfully he gives in and you’re crying out at the first swipe of his tongue against the seam of your pussy. From there on, he’s relentless. His actions hungry yet precise as he eats you out like man starved.

Your gasping and crying out in almost painful pleasure, your hand plunged deep in his hair, gripping and pulling as you grind against his talented mouth.

Dean’s moans and the lewd sounds of his mouth drinking in your wetness, have you coming apart at the seems in a mater of minutes. Your body convulses violently and your mouth opens in a silent scream as he continues to lap at the flood of your juices.

Eventually you have to push him away when you become too sensitive and fall to the bed, weightless and panting like a dog.

Dean crawls above you, rightfully smug and lips glistening. He kisses up your neck and jaw before reaching your lips and you moan at the taste of yourself on his tongue.

At the feel of the rough denim of his jeans against your fluttering core, do you push him away and sit up, causing him to stand between your legs.

You look up at him through your lashes as you unbutton his jeans and he brings a hand up to cup your jaw, his thumb caressing your chin and bottom lip. You lean forward to capture it between your lips, swirling your tongue around the digit as you unzip his pants.

Dean’s eyes flutter at sight, his bottom lip captured tightly by his teeth.

“Fuck baby.” He curses as you roughly pull his jeans down his thighs, boxers in tow, exposing him.

He’s hard as a rock, red and leaking at his tip. Your mouth waters at the sight of him and you make room for him on the bed to lie down after he kicks off his bottoms.

Once situated, you crawl to a kneel between his legs, keeping your eyes on his. You slide your palms up his muscular thighs, making Dean’s breath hitch and cock twitch against his stomach. You waste no time in grasping his steely length in your small palm, your fingers just about wrapping around him.

A deep moan comes from him and his head falls back against the pillows as you slowly begin to pump him in your hand. His skin glides smoothly against the weeping head and you clench your thighs, desperate for a taste.

You lean down and wrap your lips around his silky head, moaning at the sharp taste of him on your tongue. Dean’s a breathless mess above you, his mouth hung open and eyes crossing as you guide your mouth up and down him just as your hand had.

“Baby, baby. You gotta stop.” Dean pants above you, making you release him with a pop and wide eyes.

He cups your cheek affectionately with a breathless chuckle at the concern on your face.

“I’m not gonna last.” He explains simply but honest and you both chuckle.

“C’mere.” He pulls you into his lap and gathers you in his arms, smiling in wonder up at you. You return his smile and cup his cheeks in your hands before descending on to his plump lips.

In no time you’re back to breathless messes and desperate for more. You’re about to remove your dress when Dean’s hands stop you.

He pulls away, his cheeks tinged pink and a bashful look on his face.

“Leave it on.” He requests and you smile wide, but nod in understanding. You push him onto his back and hover above him.

His hands instantly find purchase on your thighs, squeezing them lovingly as he takes you in.

Breathtaking.

Your hands wrap around his cock as you position yourself above him, lining him up with your entrance before sinking onto him slowly.

You both moan in sync as he stretches you. The position angling him to reach all your sensitive spots. You find purchase on his chest as you slowly roll your hips. Your mouth falling open in pure pleasure at the feeling of him fully seated inside of you.

As you pick up the pace, you fall forward onto him, meeting his lips in a desperate clash of tongue and teeth. At this angle Dean’s hands grasp your behind and he begins to thrust faster, harder up into you.

You cry out, breaking the kiss, allowing him to take over and reach that sweet spot inside. Each thrust hits its target with practiced precision and it isn’t long before you’re trembling in his arms as your orgasm washes over you.

White, hot electricity ripples in your veins and you cry out at the feeling.

“Oh, fuuuck.” Dean’s quick to follow, grunting loudly into your ear as his body spasms in time with the release of his seed deep inside you.

You fall limply onto his chest, as you both catch your breath. Thoroughly sated and spent.

Minutes pass by before you’re able to lift yourself and meet his sleepy gaze.

“So. How would you feel about making this an annual thing?” You ask him, a smirk already pulling at your lips. Already knowing his answer.

[kdogreads]

Redhead Delight

Dean x Female!Reader smut (18+ only!)

Summary: Dean has a thing for redheads and you, his redheaded partner in crime, have a thing for Dean.

Warnings: oral sex (fem-receiving), cussing, teasing; let me know anything else please

Word Count: 1750-ish

A/N: This is a bit self-indulgent, being a redhead myself, but oh well. We all love some Dean doing his thing… ;) Enjoy!

Now taking requests! Message me :)

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It was no secret why Dean had such a soft spot for you.

You’d spent countless nights in motel rooms with the brothers. Towels, underwear, accidentally walking in on one of them with a girl or just enjoying themselves, same thing for you. You really learn a lot about a person when you spend your life on the road with them sharing shitty motel rooms.

All of these times when something could have happened between you and Sam, it just didn’t. He’d fumble around and apologize profusely and act like an awkward teenager for a couple of days until you yanked his chain about it, both of you ending up laughing and acting like normal.

Dean, on the other hand, didn’t laugh it off when you walked out in a towel, or you caught a glimpse of him changing his clothes. He stared intently at your glistening body, taking in every line and scar and curve he could, imagining what was underneath. He’d dart his eyes away as soon as you noticed his eyes on you, acting like he didn’t see you.

Not only had you saved each other's asses more times than you could count, but you didn’t take any shit from him. You’d throw an attitude right back at him every time, and he loved that about you. You’d stand up to Dean when he was being his stubborn self, unknowingly turning him on like crazy.

And then there was the other thing.

It’s common knowledge Dean had a thing for redheads, and your coppery auburn locks were his favorite shade. He’d daydream about running his fingers through it, twisting it up into his hands and pulling it, yanking your head back with it and-

“Dean?” You startled him out of his thoughts, “Where’s Sam?” You wondered out loud, combing your fingers through your freshly washed hair wearing only a cheap, scratchy motel towel.

“He, uh, he went out for groceries,” Dean replied quickly, shoving his face back into the dusty book in his hands.

“Ah,” You replied with an exhale, toweling your flowing locks dry, still leaving them a bit damp. Dean could see you out of the corner of his eye, trying his hardest to focus on the words in front of him.

You knew Dean lusted for you, but what he didn’t know is that you wanted him just as badly.

You sauntered over to the small dresser you kept your clothes in and bent at the waist all the way down to the bottom drawer. Only your jeans were down there, which you didn’t need as you were settling in the room for the night, but Dean didn’t need to know that. You were just putting on a show. You were certain Dean had a front-row view of your round, glistening ass and your delicious folds.

You heard a groan come up from this chest.

“Something wrong, Dean?” You asked, peering over your shoulder at him. His book was in his lap and his hand was over his mouth.

“Uh, no. Nothing wrong,” He responded, but this time he didn’t look away or pretend he wasn’t looking. He locked his emerald eyes with yours.

You stood up and turned to face him, taking a few long steps to stand in front of him. He swung his legs over the side of the bed from where he was lounging. His pupils dilated as you got closer.

“I’ve seen how you look at me, Dean,” You offer, raising a hand to touch his cheek, and he rests his own hand on your forearm, “I know how you feel about me.”

“Y/n,” He growls at you, touching another hand to your exposed thigh.

“I want you, too, Dean,” You play with the seam on his shirt, “I want you to you fuck me until I can’t see straight.”

Dean stands up swiftly and hungrily crashes his lips to yours. His hands explored your neck, your curved body. He bit at your bottom lip eliciting a moan from your throat. His tongue pushed into your mouth and worked its way around, tasting every surface he could reach.

Your fingers slip under the hem of his t-shirt and toy at his warm skin. His lips part from yours for only a second as he reaches one hand behind his head and pulls his shirt off in one swift motion.

He kisses you again in the same hungry fashion, biting at your swollen bottom lip. Dean’s hands begin sliding up and down your sides over the faded towel. You eagerly tug at the end tucked in over your chest and drop the towel to the floor.

Now you are fully naked standing in front of Dean and he savored the sight of every curve, every line, all the ones he couldn’t see until now. You were better than he could have imagined.

“Y/n,” Dean whispers into your neck while you let out a sharp breath, “Are you sure this is what you want?”

Your soft moan could have answered enough, but not for Dean. He twists his hands into your flowing crimson locks, just as he had dreamt about for months.

His lips only left yours when he suddenly pulled your head back hard by his intoxicated hand.

“Words, y/n. Tell me what you want,” Dean whispered into your ear sending a shiver down your already trembling body.

“Please, Dean, take me,” You beg as his free hand wanders down your body, pausing on your left breast before sliding down to the skin just beside your slick entrance, “take me now.”

Suddenly, Dean releases his grasp on your hair and slides his hands under your goosebump-spotted ass and scoops you up. He walks forward a few steps until you land softly on the queen-sized bed behind you.

Dean kisses your body while you lay your head back onto a pillow. He kisses your jaw, down to your neck and collarbones. Your eyes flutter shut as he reaches your warm, soft breasts and takes one into his mouth, tongue swirling around your hardened nipple in circles.

Your hands meet Dean’s spiked hair as he slides his tongue down your stomach, to your thighs and spreads them gently apart with two strong hands.

Your breath hitches in your throat as one calloused finger circles around your wet folds while his eyes hungrily took in the beautiful sight.

“God you are stunning, y/n,” Dean kisses your thigh as his finger slides slowly into you drawing a moan from your parted lips, “Let’s see how you taste.”

You gasped as Dean dove into your core, tongue eagerly exploring the sweetness while another finger slid into your entrance.

His lips made their way to your clit and formed a tight “o,” sucking hard on you, making your hips buck up into his mouth. His thick fingers pumping steadily in and out of you.

One of your hands slammed into the mattress, fingers balling up the stiff sheets as you felt the coil in your stomach tightening more and more.

“Dean,” You gasped, your breathing becoming erratic, “Oh god-“

“Cum for me, sweetheart,” Dean mumbled into your trembling core, “That’s right, baby.”

His words were all you needed to finally feel the release. Your hips ground into his face as you rode the waves of pleasure, your walls clenching around his calloused fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut as your toes curled and your thighs clamped against Dean’s head. He kept swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud and used his strong hands to peel your legs apart.

Dean kept pumping in and out of you, slowing only as your frantic breaths began to calm.

A smug smile curled across Dean’s lips as you came back down to earth and noticed his eyes back on yours. He crawled back up your body, planting small kisses on all of your sensitive spots.

When his lips met yours, you tasted your own sweetness on his mouth and gratefully explored the tastes with your tongue.

“If I would’a known you looked so pretty when you cum, I would have done that a long time ago,” Dean cooed into your ear, still planting sloppy kisses onto your cheek. He ran his fingers through your hair again only after you took them to your mouth and sucked all the juices off. “I love this hair, too, sweetheart. All the time.”

“Hmm,” you sighed contently, pulling his lips to your again for a sweet kiss, “Thank you, Dean.”

Lips still pressed together, you heard a car door shut just outside your motel door, then another. Sam must have been back with the groceries.

Your eyes widened as your gaze met Dean’s again.

“Shit,’ You spat, swinging your legs over the bed and out from under Dean to find your discarded towel. “Dean!”

He turned over and leaned on the bed’s headboard, hands folded contently behind his head and a cocky grin on his face. He didn’t say anything, but winked at you in response to your concern.

“You little shit,” You laughed as you hurriedly wrapped the towel back around your body and tried to smooth your messy copper hair down as best as you could.

The doorknob rattled briefly then swung open and Sam appeared with a couple bags in his hand.

Hey- Oh, sorry, y/n,” Sam started and then turned his head away after noticing you were only in a towel. Your chest was still heaving from the events just moments before and the frantic search for your towel.

“Oh, it’s okay, Sam! I’m just getting in the shower,” You responded shakily, trying your best to sound normal, not winded and not lust-blown.

Sam looked back to you briefly, then to Dean. He raised one eyebrow suspiciously.

“Your hair is already wet, though-- Nope, don’t wanna know,” Sam shook his head and returned to the groceries he sat on the little table. Dean let out a boisterous laugh and grabbed the book he had discarded a few minutes ago.

You shot Dean a playful pout, but a smile crept in. You scurried back into the bathroom with a silly grin still on your face and began to put yourself back together.

Now that you and Dean have made the first move, God only knows what could happen next, and you can’t wait.

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Join my tag list! Thank you so much for the love ❤️ @this-is-me19

[winchester-girl67]

My Father's Daughter

Summary: Y/N gets nervous when her anti-possession tattoo heals overnight. On her second attempt to make it stick she meets a boy that she might have more in common with then she thinks.

Requested by @rachelcarroll1819​ : “Can you do ome where the readers is the daughter of luicfer that john and bobby found as a baby bobby ends up raising her as his owns then when angels show up her powers finally show up also and sje in a relationship with either dean or sam ( whichever works for me)”

Pairing: Dean x Nephilim!reader

Square: Tattoo @supernatural-jackles​

Word Count: 5,805

Warnings: some SPN spoilers for season 12-15 (mainly surrounding Jack, and nephilim), not canon, language, adoption and related topics, implied relationship with Dean before the reader’s 18th birthday (reader and Dean are both 18), implied minor allergic reaction, injured!Dean, injuried!reader, blood, a little violence (involving guns/angel blades), angst, a little pining, kissing, fluff

A/N: This is before Castiel joins the Winchester’s side, I also took some liberties with the nephilim lore. Jack is such a fun character to write for, I had to include him in this request… Enjoy :) Also written for @supernatural-jackles​’ Tell Me a Story bingo.

_____

“What the H-E-double-hockey-sticks?” You gasped at your reflection in the mirror. “Balls, that can’t be a good sign.”

You held open the collar of your flannel and traced your fingers over the unblemished flesh below your collarbone. It was easy to ignore when it happened the first time. A pencil standing on its point for three seconds longer than it should’ve was easy to play off as an illusion soaked in extreme boredom at the time. Strange occurrences were common especially around the Winchesters or anyone involved with the Winchesters, but this was- wasn’t possible. It was your eighteenth birthday yesterday and Dean brought you to get your first tattoo, an anti-possession symbol. You had it inked into the left side of your chest over your breast, just like him, but now it was gone as if it had... healed.

You decided not to tell anyone and buttoned your shirt a little higher than usual. You would just go back to the tattoo parlour today before you met up with Dean. You kept the little anomalies like this to yourself more often than not lately, after finding out you were adopted and who your biological father really was. Lucifer. Talk about daddy issues. You didn’t want anyone finding out that you had inherited anything from him. Eighteen years without a single sign of angelic anything and now you couldn’t deny there was something filtering through you, trying to get out. It felt like power.

“Meeting Dean this early, pumpkin?” Your father, Bobby, asked as you bounced down the stairs and into the kitchen. You nodded, not wanting to lie to him but it was for the best, “Do your old man a favour and grab something to eat before you head out.”

“Alright, dad.” You said, grabbing an apple from the fridge.

“You make sure that boy gets you home in time for dinner,” he cocked an eyebrow at you, “I mean it this time, Y/N. I will get my shotgun out if you’re a minute past six, got it?”

You were his little girl, but he wouldn’t actually shoot Dean, right?

You laughed and nodded, playing it off as a joke. He could only be about eighty-percent serious, at most. You didn’t have a curfew but tonight was an exception. There were family and friends and family-friends, coming over to celebrate your birthday, since yesterday was a weekday and Bobby had steaks marinating in the fridge.

“We’ll be home on time, promise. Bye, daddy.” You pecked him on the cheek and turned his cap around so the visor was in the back.

“Always with the damn hat,” he grumbled as he fixed it back to the front.

You giggled as you twirled out of the room and bit into your apple. You took a couple of bites before holding it between your lips as you laced up your boots and slipped on your jacket.

Outside, you chucked the core into the tall grass opposite the house and climbed onto your motorcycle. You started it up and pulled your hair into a quick braid for the wind, otherwise it would tangle to an extent that could never be brushed out, and took your helmet off the handlebars. You secured the strap under your chin and revved the engine as you kicked it into gear, fish-tailing around before speeding off down the laneway.

Leaves were changing colour and it was cooler outside now. For a moment you wished you had remembered your gloves but you would power through, the tattoo parlour wasn’t too far away anyway. You chose a different parlour across town than the one Dean had brought you to, just in case the artist that tattooed you the day before was on shift today too. Too many questions would be asked and you didn't have the answers.

It was easier this time around, since you knew what to expect and how much it would sting, but you hated that Dean wasn’t there to hold your hand. The woman wiped away the excess ink when she was done the final flame and held up a mirror for you to see. You grinned at the permanent ink, marring your flesh the same way it did Sam and Dean and Bobby and every other hunter you knew.

To anyone else, they’d probably think it was odd but to you it meant protection and family. It was pretty, even with the red raw edges that would eventually flatten out as your skin healed. You loved the way new tattoos raised the skin and appeared to jump out at you. You felt like a badass sporting your fresh ink and bit your lip at your excited smile.

The artist snapped a pic for her portfolio and the shop’s website and you noticed a boy about your age smiling at you from behind the gap in the privacy curtains. He was sitting in the waiting area with his hands on his knees and just staring. At. You.

“Hello.” He said when you passed him on your way out.

His blonde hair was combed to the side, unlike Dean’s whose was always spiked up like an angry hedgehog. You gave him a nod of your head and nothing more. Glancing back at the parlour as you climbed onto your motorcycle, partially just to make sure he didn’t follow you out. He didn’t give off any creeper vibes but he was… odd.

“Ow,” you hissed suddenly as your chest burned. You pulled aside your flannel to see the tattoo glowing white hot before it fizzled out. Your body healing itself again and your tattoo disappearing. You looked up at the tattoo parlour sullenly, there would be no point in trying again. “Shit-balls.”

Just when you thought puberty was over. What the hell was going on with your body now? All you could think was that your bio-dad’s genes were finally kicking in.

It would be easy enough to hide it from Bobby, not so much Dean. Things were getting heated between you two lately and it was inevitable that he’d see you in a bra again. The thing was, the only people who knew about your bio-dad were John, who had passed away a couple years ago and Bobby, who promised never to tell another living soul; especially the boys. Sam would probably understand but he was four years younger than you and he couldn’t keep a secret from his older brother. Dean on the other hand, thought of things in black and white and anything tainted with the blood of a monster must be a monster in and of itself. And Lucifer was a monster, you heard the stories.

You wanted to be like Bobby, not your bio-dad and you wanted Dean to keep loving you. Which you weren’t entirely sure was possible if you told him that you were a nephilim. Until recently you had been questioning it yourself but you couldn’t ignore the weirdness surrounding you anymore or the dreams you’d been having of a man with glowing red eyes, a raspy voice calling out to you. You always woke up in a cold sweat and now you were thinking they might be more than just dreams. Maybe if you’d said something Bobby could help you make them stop.

You started up your motorcycle and pulled on your helmet, glancing back at the parlour one last time and watching as the blonde boy walked down the steps. He still had a smile on his face when his blue eyes met yours and he raised his hand to wave. Then he started walking towards you and you didn’t stick around to find out what he wanted. You weren’t in the mood to be hit on, although you didn’t get that vibe from him. He had more of an innocence about him. You still weren't in the mood.

You must’ve drove past the laneway to your house six times before you decided you couldn’t face your father or everyone else who had congregated there for your birthday dinner. Bobby had bragged about you finally getting your anti-possession tattoo and becoming a real hunter and what if someone asked to see it? How could you explain that?

You went to the one quiet place where you could always think. The graveyard on the west side of town. You didn’t know anyone there but you felt it was nice if someone visited them from time to time. You were always respectful and you liked to sit on the bench at the back between the overgrown trees. The spot was hidden from the road and you could hear the resident owl from time to time.

It was late now and well past six, when dinner was supposed to be ready. Bobby would likely be fuming or worried as hell, probably both. On the brightside, Dean would be with him and everyone else so Bobby would have no reason to blame him or shoot him. Except it was possible he still might try.

You checked your phone to find too many messages from both Bobby and Dean, all asking where you were and when you were getting back. One more recent one asking if you were in trouble. You typed off an ‘I’m fine’ when you heard the leaves crunch under the weight of a sneaker.

You whipped your head around to find the blonde boy from the tattoo parlour peeking out from behind the trunk of a tree. He smiled brightly as he slowly approached you, waving again and if you were about to make a run for it, you no longer felt the need.

“Hello, I’m Jack. I’m sorry if I scared you earlier. This is my first time..." he paused, seemingly struggling to find the word, "-talking." He grinned again.

“O-okay.”

Did he just break some sort of oath-of-silence or something?

You were still skeptical even if you weren’t scared. He wasn’t all that big, kinda skinny, you could take him in a fight if you had to.

“Are you following me?” You asked, he smiled and nodded like he didn’t understand how creepy it was to admit to following someone. “Why, -the fuck?” You almost laughed, it was so awkward, but you settled for a single puff of air. “How’d you find me?”

"I've been looking for you, I’ve been wanting to meet you, you're not easy to find, I can only sense you some of the time -This place is nice." He glanced around, it was hardly the word you would use to describe a graveyard but what-the-hay there were stranger things at foot, “You seem troubled. Can I help?"

"Um, no? I'm just a bit confused. You ‘sensed’ me?" You asked, squinting your eyes up at him.

"You put off an energy when you're stressed and I could tell you needed me. It smells like... sour strawberries -Are strawberries good?" He asked and tilted his head. Dude was weird, but probably harmless.

“Um, yeah, when they have chocolate on them, otherwise they make my tongue feel funny.” You shrugged, Dean had bought you chocolate covered strawberries for Valentine’s day, almost made it worth the itchy throat. “Why do you think I need you? I don't need you, I don't even know you.”

“We have more in common than you think.” He alluded and you wanted to wipe that smirk off his face as he stood there.

“I’m getting impatient, Jack, and you won’t like me when I’m impatient.” You quipped and he tilted his head in confusion. Dean was rubbing off on you, after all those hours watching ‘classic’ movies with him. “Okay, I’ll bite. Why do you feel so familiar?” That was the feeling you were picking up from him, a closeness; you finally figured it out.

“I’m your brother.”

Your face blanched, “The only person I’d consider a brother is Sammy -even if it is a little awkward since I am dating his actual brother- but we’re not related, we just grew up together, sort of... our dad’s knew each other and we hung out… quite a bit actually but that’s not the point. I don’t have blood relatives, up here, anyway.”

“But we have one in common, down there." Jack pointed as he laughed and sat down beside you.

You scooched over to the end of the bench, "So... Your father...?"

"Is Lucifer, yes, and so is yours." He said.

Did he always smile? He seemed too cheery to be a descendant of the Devil himself. At least you had the decency to be unbearably irritable once a month.

"Prove it," you smirked back snidely. Yup, too much time around Dean.

"Okay," he pulled a long silver blade from his jacket, one you knew as an angel blade and levitated it in the air. He moved his fingers and the blade mimicked his motions. "Pretty cool, huh?"

You nodded and remembered the pencil; could you do something like that someday? Maybe you had to focus more or less, he didn't seem to put much effort into it.

"Do you want to try?" He asked, grabbing the blade from mid air and handing it over to you. "It's easy, just focus on what you want it to do and make it happen."

You focused on the blade in your hands and squinted your eyes, picturing it spinning in a circle like a top. You almost burst a blood vessel in your eye before you huffed and gave up, "It's no use! I can't do it."

"You're just trying too hard. We can work on it," he smiled again and you handed him back the blade.

Jack wasn't a threat, somehow you just knew, but how long was he planning on staying? And if he stayed you'd have to explain yourself and him to Bobby, that wasn't something you were looking forward to.

"Do you have any tattoos?" You asked.

"No, should I?" He asked, his smile fell and he looked worried for a moment as if you wouldn't like him if he didn't.

"I tried to get one, twice now, but it keeps healing." You pulled open your flannel a little to touch the skin where the tattoo should've been. "Kinda sucks, you know? I've been injured on hunts before and I have scars, so it doesn't make any sense to me. Why now?"

"Maybe..." he thought and tucked the blade back into his jacket, "Your powers are only developing now because you grew up slowly. You had a normal adolescence."

"I'd hardly call my childhood normal," you rolled your eyes. You were raised as a hunter and Bobby took you out for target practice every Sunday and when John and the boys were in town, you would have to participate in sparring and weapons training, all before you could read. And when you could read, lore was added to your studies along with your typical -normal school work. "How come you have your powers already then? You're about my age."

"I had to grow up faster than you, there are things -people here that want to hurt me and I needed them to protect myself." He explained, “That’s probably why yours are just showing up, your body feels it too.”

“Feels what?”

“Our father, his return.”

“Bio-dad, Lucifer?” You huffed, “Uh-yeah, I don’t think so. My surrogate dad sealed him in a cage eighteen years ago with the late-great John Winchester, you might’ve heard of him? Trust me, dude, we’re safe.”

“You can’t feel him? Maybe I can help you along,” Jack reached out to touch your forehead with two fingers and before you could push his hand away your body was flooded with images, feelings, light, dark, energy -it was too much and you pulled away, trying to catch your breath and blink away the numbing headache.

You gulped and met his blue eyes, “How are you only a day old?!”

Not only had he transferred everything he felt to you but also every memory he ever had, tracing back to even when they were just feelings in the womb of his mother. You didn’t remember any of the same stuff from your own life. How could you be the same but totally different? You were stressed beyond belief, your mind racing a mile a minute and that’s when you noticed the pulsing light coming from your palms.

“Um, Jack,” you said, inspecting your palms and turning them to face him as the light got brighter and pulsed more frequently with every heavy heartbeat. “What’s happening to me?”

“I helped you find your powers, they were -uh… hidden. I just pulled them to the surface so now you can access them.” He smiled and you gaped as a single pulse of light left your palms, hitting Jack like a force field and knocking him off the bench. He landed a good ten metres away but shook it off and stood back up, “-Ouch.”

Voices filled your mind as if multiple people were whispering in your ears all at once and they kept getting louder and louder until all you heard was a blaring hiss as if a radio was in the midst of tuning. You fell off the bench, clutching your ears with your hands, squeezing your eyes shut as if it would help.

You screamed over the noise though you couldn’t hear yourself, “Jack! Jack!”

You felt his hands rest over yours and a moment later the noise faded away. You sighed and blinked open your eyes. Your ears felt as if they were bleeding and you touched them to check.

“What the balls was that?” You asked, catching your breath.

“Angel radio, I forgot to warn you it can be overwhelming but you’ll get the hang of it. It gets easier to tune out with practice.” Jack said, helping you to your feet.

“I don’t like it.”

“Yeah, me either.”

“All I really heard was buzzing, will I be able to understand them? When I get the hang of it.” You could hardly believe this was your life now, hearing angelic voices in your head and pulsing shockwaves from your palms.

“Yes,” he nodded, “The pain will always be there though.”

“What were they saying?” You asked, noticing the dirt on your jeans and brushing off your knees.

“It was a distress signal about Lucifer.” Jack explained, brushing some crumpled bits of dried leaves from your shoulder.

You heard someone approach, heavy on their heels, “Get away from her!” Dean yelled with his gun drawn, eyeing Jack like he was ready to kill.

But you didn’t want him to hurt Jack, your little brother, “Dean, No!” You spun around and held up a hand. You didn’t mean to release another shockwave and it sent Dean flying into the tree behind him. He hit it back first and slumped to the ground, unconscious. “DEAN!”

You ran to him and cradled him in your arms, pulling his head to your chest. Tears welled in your eyes and dripped onto his cheeks as you curled over him and rocked back and forth. You didn’t know if it was your new powers but you could tell he wasn’t okay. He hit his head hard and you didn’t even know if he’d wake back up.

“Stay right there, boy.” You heard your father’s voice warn Jack as he approached you.

“Daddy?” You sobbed.

“It’s okay, pumpkin, he’s gonna be okay.” Bobby crouched next to you and inspected Dean’s head. His hand was covered in blood when he touched the back of it. He frowned and scrubbed the other palm over his scruff, “Oh, balls! Hang on, Dean.”

“Y/N,” Jack risked a step forward even with Bobby’s gun still trained on him. “I can help him. I’ve done it before.”

He had, hadn’t he? A single memory of Jack healing his birth mom while still in her womb came to mind. He wasn’t lying. You nodded and put your hand on Bobby’s gun to lower it. You weren’t even sure at this point if a bullet could even hurt him... or you anymore. Now that you feel more angelic than human.

Jack knelt next to Dean and laid a hand on his head. His fingers glowed a warm gold, the same colour as his irises and you felt Dean’s body react; his heart stabilizing with stronger beats and his breathing evening out until he began to stir. You watched intently as his green eyes fluttered open and you wiped away your tears, then dried his cheeks with your thumbs.

“Are you okay?” You whispered when he locked eyes with you.

He stared up at you, registering all that just happened and then a shot rang through your ears. Dean sat up and pushed away from you, his gun smoking in his hand and you looked down at your chest. Where he shot you.

“Idjit! What did you do?!” Bobby yelled at Dean and tried to inspect your wound. It actually didn’t hurt all that much and when you opened your shirt, the same golden glow you’d seen moments ago healed the wound until it was as if it was never there.

“That’s not Y/N! What are you, you bitch?! What did you do with her?!” Dean shouted, raising his gun again. "I swear if you hurt her-"

“Boy, you better put that gun down if you wanna see your next birthday.” Bobby warned and Dean glanced between you both, noting that he was the one out of the loop. He lowered the gun but kept it ready on his thigh and felt the back of his head curiously. “I was wonderin’ when those nephilim powers of yours would kick in, the only question I got is... Who in the holy balls is this guy?” Bobby asked, nudging his head towards Jack.

You always loved how he could incorporate balls into any sentence whether it fit or not and you guessed you did it too; you were your father’s daughter after all.

“He’s -um, my brother. Half-brother.” You said and glanced back at Jack who smiled and held a hand up as if to shake your father’s. Bobby didn’t reciprocate though and you added, “On my bio-dad’s side, obviously.”

It was well known that a human mother couldn't survive the birth of a nephilim child. Your note was more to tip off Bobby to shut up in front of Dean about it. Not that Bobby took the hint since he probably felt the cat was out of the bag anyways.

“So, good-old Lucy got sprung from the cage, eh? I figured that would happen eventually -was hoping for more time though.” Bobby grunted and fixed his cap like he did when he was unnerved and not wanting to show it.

“Am I the only one who doesn’t have a fucking clue what in the hell is going on? Y/N?!” Dean huffed and furrowed his brow.

“I -um,” you didn’t know how to explain. “I -um, I’m adopted. Surprise.”

“You’re Lucifer’s daughter?” Dean asked, catching on quickly.

The light in his eyes dimmed at the idea and you knew you needed to correct him and fast.

"No! No, I am Bobby’s daughter and I suppose... a by-product of Lucifer’s sperm donation.”

Dean nodded, then cringed. "That’s kind of gross.”

“I’m still me, Dean, the girl you’re in love with but won’t ever admit it to.” You said, hoping for him to see you the same way he did before. “I’m the same girl.”

“No, you’re not. Your eyes are different.” He stared hard like he was trying to see past something.

You looked to Bobby as if he had the answers, “Your eyes are glowing, pumpkin.”

You imagined your reflection with the eyes you’d seen Jack wear when his powers filtered through him. Then you felt it, the difference, you weren’t in control of them yet, they manifested with the waves in your emotions. It was extremely hard to control.

“Jack, how do I make it stop?” You asked and squeezed your eyes shut.

“Take a deep breath and let it go.” Jack said.

You didn’t think it could really be that fucking easy, but gave it a try. When you opened your eyes again you could feel the light dimming and then extinguish. You were exhausted.

“I wanna go home.” You looked to your father and he nodded. Jack’s smile seemed to turn upside down and you added, “Can Jack come too?”

“Might as well, party’s cleared out anyhow.” Bobby stood up and eyed Jack, sizing him up. You could tell your father didn’t trust him yet, but you knew Jack was good, you could feel it.

“Sorry I missed the party.” You stood up and hugged Bobby.

“Don’t worry about it, pumpkin.” He patted your back and ruffled up your hair when you broke the hug. You frowned and tried to tuck the loose strands of hair back into your braid. “We should get outta here before-”

You heard what could only be described as a rush of feathers before a bald man in a suit appeared before you, "Hello, Robert.”

“It’s Bobby, jackass.”

There was another louder rush and two others appeared next to him. One of them oddly wore a trench-coat over his suit. You knew instantly that these men were angels. You could see their halos shine brightly above their heads. A side effect of finally getting your nephilim powers you assumed. In all your time hunting you hadn't come across any angels, you never wanted to either based off of the stories Bobby and other hunters told you.

"Zachariah," Bobby said, nodding at the bald angel before him, then the other in the tight suit, "Uriel... long time, no see."

You knew from your studies that Uriel was an archangel, by far more powerful than the others, even if he seemed to let Zachariah take charge at the moment.

“I thought we had an understanding." Zachariah continued, "If the nephilim child showed any signs of getting her powers you were supposed to contact me, right away."  

“Like you wouldn’t have known, don’t you have some sort of angelic radar? As soon as the kid showed any signs of grace you'd feel it. That’s why you’re here isn’t it.” Bobby snapped back at the man, or angel wearing some poor sap as a meat-suit like a demon would.

“Precisely, which is why we wanted to avoid an event large enough to attract our attention. She hurt the boy, didn't she? That could've been avoided. She is an abomination and she will offset the order of the universe, given the time; there’s only one way to deal with this sort of thing... Castiel.”

The angel wearing the trench-coat stepped forward with a stoic face as if he was about to carry out some unspoken order. Like a good little soldier of heaven. An angel blade dropped into his hand from his shirtsleeve and he advanced towards you. You stumbled back and Jack grabbed your hand and puffed out his chest. Castiel stopped in his tracks just as both your eyes began to glow.

“That can’t be.” Castiel said as he backed off. He glanced back at Zachariah and then disappeared with a flutter of his wings. At least he knew when he was outranked.

The others however, Zachariah and Uriel, did not retreat and advanced upon you. Each with their own angel blade in hand. You and Jack channeled your powers together and raised your hands. You released a joint shockwave that blew them apart to mere atoms which floated away in the wind like snowflakes on a cold winter day. Your power alone was great, but together it was unmatched.

There would be no issues destroying or caging Lucifer when the time came for it. But you would have to find him first. Or maybe he would find you now that your powers had emerged. Apparently it sent up a pretty big blip on the angelic radar or whatever Bobby called it and Lucifer was probably still connected to that, right? Or at least had some sort of version of it.

"Holy hell,” Bobby cursed, “Come on, Y/N, we best be getting home before someone or something else comes looking for them or who did that to 'em."

You let your father lead the way to his truck and towed Jack along with you. Meanwhile Dean trailed behind keeping a watchful eye on your new found brother. All the while not saying much.

He didn't say anything actually, not even when you remembered your motorcycle. He just took the keys from you so you could drive back with your family. Or maybe he just didn't want to be squished into the cab of that old Ford with a being more powerful than an archangel -that was born yesterday- and your father. Bobby was super protective of you, and Dean and his relationship was strained because of that. It was a miracle they drove here together without someone getting shot now that you thought of it.

And Dean's silent treatment continued for days longer than any fight you'd had with him since you had gotten together. You didn't even know if you were still together anymore. So to say you were surprised to see him show up when Bobby and Jack went out on a day trip for some bonding, was an understatement.

"Hiya, sweetheart." Dean said, standing in the front doorway and glancing behind you, his eyes searching the space. "Bobby out?" He asked, you nodded, "How 'bout your -uh... b-brother?"

"You mean Jack?" You asked, he'd probably just forgotten his name. Dean gave you a soft smile and nodded twice, "Yeah, s'just me home. Why, you come to snuff out the monsters? One abomination at a time?"

Dean pushed his brows together and frowned down at you. "Listen, girly-"

"Girly?!-"

"Y/N," Dean pleaded, slipping your name off his tongue with his hands held up as if to pose no threat. "I know Bobby said you needed time and you didn't wanna talk to me, but I just gotta get this off my chest and then I'm gone, okay? Can you just listen? Please."

That wasn't true. Bobby lied. But you motioned for him to continue anyways.

"I was pissed at you. For not telling me, not trusting me. You were there for me when my father-" Dean choked up and cleared his throat. His eyes watered as he searched for the right words to say, "I just -I didn't understand why you didn't want me there for you, so I blamed you. But then I thought about it, really thought about it and it's no wonder you couldn't trust me, hell, why would you? All I've ever done is maim and kill-"

You'd heard enough, "Dean, I trust you! Nothing's ever going to change that and I didn't tell my dad to tell you shit. You just looked so hurt, I didn't know how to reach out and thought maybe you didn't want me to." You chewed on your lip before you decided to swallow your embarrassment and rolled your eyes at yourself, "Fuck it, I love you." It was the first time either of you said that out loud, "And I know at one point you felt the same about me and I guess, I'm just hoping that's still the case?"

Dean gave a delicate nod and shrug of his shoulders, "You'll always belong with me, Y/N." He confessed and stepped forward to wrap his arms around you. You let him and he pressed his forehead to yours. "And I care about you, too."

It hurt a little that he didn't say it back, but that was close enough for you. Dean wasn't touchy-feely in the case of emotions and you didn't need to make him say it. You felt it in the way he clutched you to him and you sunk into his embrace.

Dean pressed a hard kiss to your temple and another open lipped kiss to your cheek. You felt the heat of his breath on your lips before his mouth molded to yours and your tongues touched. His movements were slow and passionate and when his fingertips touched that ticklish spot on your neck you giggled into the kiss.

He felt like coming home; safety and warmth in his arms. Even if you didn't need protecting anymore, it was nice. It was the first time in days you let yourself relax and it seemed like you weren't the only one.

Dean pulled away to let you catch your breath and you slowly blinked open your eyes to meet his. He let out a breathy chuckle and his forehead fell to yours again, his eyes admiring yours with an amused grin on his face.

"Your eyes are glowing," he breathed and sucked on his bottom lip. "You are so damn beautiful.” And he brushed the hair from your face. “You’re everything to me.” You felt his eyelashes brush your cheek and his hand sink from your lower back to grip your butt cheek. "You’re my everything.”

Your cheeks instantly hurt from smiling so bright at his words.

His other hand met on your backside and you squealed when he squeezed hard enough to bruise, but only for a second. Dean chuckled, slapped your butt and kissed you again. And you got lost in it.

Until the backdoor slammed shut, “Boy, get your damn hands off my daughter!" Bobby commanded as he set the cooler he was carrying on top of the counter.

Jack followed in behind him and smiled at Dean with a small wave.

Dean stopped kissing you and raised his hands as he stepped away from you. He was grinning wildly and biting his lip, his eyes roaming your body like they always did before they held your gaze.

You so easily fell back into the way things were before with him and this was the good part. The part where you could speak novels with a wink of an eye. It was like a language only the two of you could speak and he was saying 'I still love you, so damn much'.

Your father cleared his throat and you rolled your eyes, "Dad, I thought you said you were taking Jack fishing? Shouldn't that take a couple more hours?"

"Not a chance, pumpkin." Bobby side-eyed Dean, "Besides, kid, already caught a week's worth. He's a natural." He boasted, coming around to Jack much faster than you expected him to.

"I'm a natural," Jack repeated and beamed with a little tilt of his head. He bounced on his heels, twice, he was so excited.

You groaned and shook your head, "I'm surrounded by dorks."

"What's a dork?" Jack asked and furrowed his brow.

Dean answered, "A little brother."

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

Forever SPN: @hobby27​

Tell Me a Story Bingo: @princessvader15

[love-yourself-first-tfw]

Hard to Love - Part One

Pairing: MOC!Dean/Demon!Dean x Reader 

Prompt: While dating Dean, he gets more and more reclusive toward you when he is given the Mark of Cain. Unable to handle the behavior, you leave but some part of him isn’t willing to let you go. 

Word Count: 3883 :) 

Warnings: Angst, Break-Up, Violence, Demon!Dean, lots of tears. 

Author’s Note: I had this saved as a draft from the end of 2016, unfinished so I tried to finish it as well as I could. It just came out like word vomit but I’m not sure how much I like it. I tried my best to make it gender neutral so if there are any mistakes, please let me know! 

Part Two 

You noticed that when you were lying in bed, he had his back towards you, almost falling off the bed to get away from your presence. Unable to reach out and touch him in fear of rejection, you continued to stare at his Henley-covered back, watching his steady breaths.

"Dean? Is everything okay with us?" The question sounds weird, a lump pushing into your throat, uncomfortably. He answered with a grunt, nothing else, keeping with his recent code of silence toward you. A dejected hum leaves your lips.

Turning on your back, looking around the room at all the items -- with some of you sprinkled in-- that make it your shared room. Wringing your hands together as you think about where you can go, you can’t stay here anymore, not like this. You want to help him but how can you when he doesn’t even want to be near you?

                                                                              Something had changed in the last few weeks. He wouldn't look at you, let alone talk. He wouldn’t shut up with Sam and Cas, though. 

Maybe the hours of silence with me drove him to talk to them.

Dean is only close to you when you are in Baby, driving to a hunt. Not holding your hand anymore but instead gripping the wheel, knuckles turning white, not sparing a glance at you. You’d gone as far as changing the music, to a pop station nonetheless, in the middle of one of his songs, hopeful of a reaction.  

Yell! Look at me with disgust! Do something, please!

But par for the course, Dean does nothing. He stares at the road, unmoving and silent while Sam and you stare at him in disbelief. The tears well up as you look at the horizon to your right, trying your best to not break in front of either man. Trying to understand what you could do differently. 

You stop sitting up front. You don’t talk to him. You avoid him at the bunker. You respond with little-to-no passive-aggressive comments when Dean talks to you through Sam. You keep your crying to the bathroom and shower, alone. 

You knew the Mark would change him but not like this. 

He kissed you last week after a rough hunt, a close call with a witch causing a teeny moment of intimacy between you two. Both of you pulled away with wide eyes: yours in shock and his in... disappointment? He walked ran away before a talk could be had, disappearing somewhere in the main area, while you went to take a shower; a habit forming. 

No matter what you try he just keeps pulling away.

Do I keep trying? 

I can get my things together and leave by the next hunt. Dean won’t stop me if I want to stay home.

Home. The thought made it so much more real. This is your home; Dean is your home. You take a sharp breath through your nose, trying not to make too much noise as you got up, going somewhere the breakdown won’t bother Dean.

                                                                                When Sam comes up to you in the morning, letting you know that there’s a possible ghost in the next town over, an easy salt and burn. You sniffle for effect as you tell Sam that you’re not feeling the greatest, watching his eyes drop in sympathy. 

He throws his arm around your shoulders, leading you back toward your bedroom.

“You shouldn’t be up then, dude. Go lay down, I’ll bring you some medicine before we leave, and I’ll tell Dean you aren’t coming. I’m sure he’ll want to see you.” 

You don’t need to look at Sam to know he doesn’t believe what he’s saying but you thank him regardless, feeling guilty about what the future will be. A hug in the doorway, tighter on your end than usual, ends when he pulls away and helps you back into bed. 

Sam comes back with some pills and a cup of water, ice clinking against the glass, with each stride. “Do you need anything else?” 

With the blanket tucked under your chin, you shake your head. “No, I’m good. I’m just gonna sleep it off and if it gets worse, I’ll text you, okay?” 

“Okay, I hope you feel better soon, (Y/N/N), and don’t beat yourself up about Dean. He’s not doing well with the Mark; he still loves you.” 

You close your eyes and turn your back to him after you nod to his comment, trying to hint that he’s good to leave and that if he stays, you’d rather not talk.

“Thanks, Sammy. I love ya.” 

“Love you too, (Y/N).” 

The click of the door shutting follows the flick of the light switch. And more tears. Silent and steady as you listen and wait for the departure that begins the end of life as you know it. 

Exhausted from the last few days of one-sided fighting, you try to fight off the sleep that takes over, but you slip under just as the hall light spills in when Dean peaks his head past the door frame. 

                                                                              It’s a few hours later when you wake up to a text from Sam, they’ve made it to the cozy town, and he will let you know when it’s done or if they have any problems. You let him know you feel better before wishing them luck on the hunt, getting up, and beginning the process of mission: Disappearing (Y/N). 

With a sigh, you start going through the knick-knacks that you’ve collected over the years, sighing again when you realize that all things will just remind you of him. Anger flares within you, the white-hot rage of your hand being forced, the whole situation out of your control. 

Leaving the small things and just grabbing your clothes from the closet, looking around the room for anything that could be useful on the trip. No mementos to save. You slam the door on your way out, going to your old room next, going through the same routine as before.

Two filled duffel bags sit in the back seat of your car when you finish, mostly clothes and things you’d brought with you when you moved into the bunker. Not running around anymore, the rush of adrenaline begins to fade turning into more anger. 

“Why!? I don’t understand?!” You hit the steering wheel with your palms, letting out a scream that transforms into an ugly wet, wail. 

A note laying in the war room, on the map table, explains why you left, addressed to Sam, in a last effort to be heard or at the very least get the last word. Your phone is on top of the note, showing the seriousness of your actions.

Sam,

Maybe we will see each other on the road again but I can’t stay somewhere I’m clearly not wanted. I’m sorry for lying to you and not saying goodbye in person. I don’t think I would’ve gone otherwise. Love ya, dude. Tell jerk face that I’ll always love him even if he has that mark on his arm, if he becomes a demon, or if he hates me. Always. 

I hope the best for you in the future. 

Goodbye,

(Y/N)

You wipe your nose with your sleeve, lifting your head from the steering wheel to embark on the journey to a new home. 

                                                                              In just a few months, you are settled in your new apartment in Colorado, taking a break from hunting to get familiar with the area. Neither Dean nor Sam gets into contact with you, whether that’s not wanting to or for lack of trying, you don’t know. 

With a new job in a library in town, you try to get past the guilt that sweeps over you every now and then, reminding yourself of the way you were treated. Of why you left in the first place. 

Unlocking the door after a long Monday of reshelving books, the silence of the apartment is disturbed by your keys going into the bowl next to the coat rack. You slip your shoes off before sliding your jacket off and onto the rack, turning to the living room and shouting in shock at Dean, who is standing, arms crossed, in front of the couch. 

“What the hell? Why are you in my house?” 

“Why do you have a devil’s trap in your living room?” He smirks, a glint in his eyes that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand up. “Seems like you were expecting someone.” 

You put it there when you moved in, taking a page from Bobby’s book by using invisible blacklight paint. Decided that while one is useful in front of the door, the living room was also easy to run through if caught off guard, with no door to slow you down, and no one expects it there. 

Looking him over again before answering his question, his face is thinner than when you last saw him, hair gelled in a way that looks unnatural for him. His dark red button-up hangs loosely on his body. 

“For this reason. Though I can’t say I expected you to be stuck in it. Who killed you?” 

“Metatron. Though to be fair, I did try to kill him first.” You hum as he tries-- and fails-- to sit on the couch. “You couldn’t have made this any smaller, huh?” 

The smirk on his face only grows as he feels irritation roll off of you. “What do you want, Dean?” 

Now it’s his turn to look you up and down, wetting his lips before speaking. “I can think of a couple things.” 

You roll your eyes and make your way to your bedroom. 

“Oh, c’mon. I was just joking, sweetheart!” 

You ignore his words and change into comfortable clothes before dialing Sam’s number, deciding that letting him know was better than waiting for any more of Dean’s antics. 

“Hello?”

“Sam? It’s (Y/N). Dean just showed up at my house and got stuck in a devil’s trap.” You sigh, rubbing your forehead.

Another shout from the living room brings tears to your eyes, the love of your life so close but so far at the same time. 

“Just wanted to talk to ya! You gonna leave me out here alone?” 

Sam asks for your address, giving you the details of what had conspired in the last couple of weeks: Dean dying and being turned into a demon, then bolting and teaming up with Crowley-- doing only God knows what around the country-- meanwhile Sam is doing everything he can to find and cure his brother.

“I’m not too far from you but I’ll still be awhile. Like...” he pauses, taking a deep breath, “maybe seven hours. I’m sorry I can’t get there sooner.” 

“It’s okay, I’ll keep him here. I can’t say he’ll be in a happy mood when you get here.” 

“Well, he won’t be happy to see me anyway, so it won’t matter. Thanks for the heads up though. I’ll let you know when I get there.” 

“Okay, see you soon, Sam.” 

With a deep breath, you slid out into the hallway, building up the confidence to make yourself visible to Dean. 

“You can do this. Make your dinner and ignore the living, breathing, talking, statue in the middle of your apartment.” Nodding to yourself, you walk out with your chin up. 

“There you are!” 

Dean’s eyes follow you past him and the couch as you move to the kitchen. Keeping busy with the leftovers, you avoid making eye contact with Dean, brushing his announcement off with silence. When you put the plate of chicken and rice into the microwave, your focus drifts from the timer counting down to those vibrant pools of green, ominous black hiding behind them. 

His eyebrows raise up in amusement, “You lose. Are you going to talk to me now?” 

“How ‘bout no.” You cross your arms, scoffing at the question.

“You just did, baby. Now just hear me out, you said you’d still love me as a demon, but this doesn’t feel like love to me.” 

He chuckles darkly at the end of his words. His demeanor changes: eyebrows pulling down, eyes darkening, and a sneer coming onto his lips. 

The microwave beeps, pulling your attention away, though your words slip out before you can think about it. “I do still love you, jerk face.” 

It’s not a secret or a lie, you just didn’t want to say it aloud. It had been peaceful dissociating from all that and using every waking moment to adjust to the new way of living without him, not knowing if he would ever come back. 

The plate hits the counter harder than you mean for it to, tears stinging your eyes again. “What do you want from me, Dean? I left so you wouldn’t have to feel guilty about whatever the fuck you felt guilty about. You didn’t want to explain it to me then, what do you possibly have to say now?” 

A split second of shock passes Dean’s face before it’s back to anger. He opens his mouth, but you cut him off before he can say anything, pulling the silverware drawer open and grabbing a fork. 

“No, seriously. I. Don’t. Care. There really is no fucking excuse for what you put me through. So, unless you want to say sorry-- which I highly doubt, considering the black eyes rolling around back there-- shut up.” You slam the drawer: the loud noise and rattling of metals end your shouting. Taking a deep breath and beginning to eat, your back turned away from him, with a tiny, fragment of hope he actually listens. 

He blows a raspberry, “Well, that’s where you are sorely mistaken. I’m sorry for what the numb nuts did to you. To think, I could’ve had you from the beginning if he’d just said a few words to you now and again.” 

Your chewing stops as the food becomes a rock in your mouth, no longer able to swallow as you listen to him. Staring ahead at the balcony door as he continues spewing words at you. 

“Instead of all the cheap whores in dingy bars, I could’ve had you. Waiting on little ole’ me.” It’s clear from his tone that he is mocking you, taunting your words. Even though the relationship is over, the words make your chest twist uncomfortably, your watery eyes finally spilling over. 

“Whatever, have fun out here by yourself.” You leave the half-eaten meal on the counter, not sparing a glance at the man as you pass him to go to your room, keeping your head down to hide the tears that stream down your face. 

Slamming the door, shoving your face in a pillow, and screaming to relieve the stress of the situation, only helps bring more cries out of you. You know it’s not the Dean you knew talking to you but the twisted and dark version, wanting what he wants with no care about who it may affect. 

The darkness of your eyelids fluttering takes over you as you fall asleep to Dean’s calls to you. A dream of your life from before fills your head, one more moment with Dean that you can hope to forget when you wake.

                                                                            You jerk awake when your phone buzzes from a text, the vibrations magnified by the wood of the side table. Two texts from Sam illuminate the screen. 

From Sam: I just got into town I’ll be there in twenty minutes.

From Sam: Just got to your apartment. You get my first text?

To Sam: Sorry, fell asleep. 2C. Door’s unlocked for you. 

From Sam: I’ll be up there soon. 

When you take a moment to listen, it’s completely silent. Panicking at the thought that Dean was able to get away before Sam and you could cure him, you rush to the living room. Dean stands still, glaring at you as you appear from the hallway.

His lips are drawn into a sneer as he snarls, “how nice of you to come to see your guest.” 

The door opens as he ends, catching his attention, a scoff comes from him when Sam comes around the door. 

“I told you to fuck off, Sam. I don’t want you to be cured.”

Sam just shrugs, putting the duffel bag on the couch, and unloading some tools to get Dean back to the bunker with little to no issues. 

“Dean, you told me that you’d leave (Y/N) alone. So, what’s that about? Tired of the demon life?” 

Sam motions to you, hair crumpled from the impromptu nap, eyes, and nose red from crying. “You’ve been bar hopping for weeks on end, new people in your bed every night. Your freaking wet dream. Why are you here, ripping open an old wound, on someone who clearly doesn’t want shit from you?”  

“I saw you. You were at the bar in town, with some others, didn’t even notice me when I sat down at the bar top-- can’t say your observation skills were ever the best anyway.” Dean eyes you as he speaks, watching your jaw clench at the small dig toward you. 

“And then I get a call from some dude about how he caught Sam and if I wanted him back alive, I’d have to switch places with him, I told him to fuck off and came here instead. Looks like you made it alright, didn’t ya, Sammy?” 

“Yup, just like always.” He puts his good hand on your back, steering you towards the kitchen. 

“What the hell, seriously, Sam? What happened?” 

Sam leans against the countertop, his chin resting on his chest as he takes a deep breath. You reach into the freezer for a bag of peas, wrap it in a towel, and press it to his black eye, letting him hold the makeshift icepack when he winces. 

“He pulled up when I was stranded on the side of the road, I thought he was going to help but he knocked me out and brought me to an old barn, maybe?” 

His head drops, no longer making eye contact with you. 

“He called Dean and then when Dean hung up, he just went off.” Mocking the man who had tortured him only a day before, Sam’s voice lowers comically, “He killed my father in front of me...Two tours in Iraq in Special OPS...blah blah blah. Then he hit me a bunch, trying to get Dean’s location.” 

Two tours in Iraq? Special OPS? 

His pause allows you to ask your next question of many, “how did you get away?” 

“He got a phone call and when he pulled his phone out, his knife fell from his pocket, and I just got out.” 

A twinge of doubt and anxiety spread through you, the words “that seems too easy” on your lips after he explains. He finally looks back at you, seeing the questioning expression on your face.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?” He lowers the frozen peas when you make your way to the living room again. 

“You mean to tell me that a solider, not just any ol’ solider at that, special OPS who served two tours in Iraq and he just dropped a knife, that let you get away?” 

As if to emphasize your point, the whole house goes dark. You reach the bookshelf behind Dean, both men watching you. The few beats of silence are broken when the front window breaks, a canister rolling onto the floor behind the couch, spraying a thick, white cloud of smoke. 

It reaches Sam first, harsh coughs coming from him as he yells for you to get to the backyard. Feeling the wall by the bookcase, you find the string taped to the wall that will break the seal when pulled. Feeling your eyes water, nose and throat burning, you tug the string with you as you move toward the back door, breaking the trap’s seal, and releasing Dean.

The smoke impedes your vision, your hip catches on the corner of the couch making you stumble to the floor, and more coughs force their way up through your lips. 

Arms encircle your waist, and harsh whispers come over your shoulder, “Jesus, your life is in danger, and you release the demon, how sickening.” He helps you to the fresh air that burns when you greedily suck it down. 

Dean’s support leaves your body, your knees hitting the moist grass that seeps through your sweatpants. When you open your eyes, you have to blink past the tears to see Sam lying next to you and Dean in front of you.  An unknown voice speaks to Dean, emotional and hate-filled, “You remember me?” 

“Yeah, you’re the guy from that thing.” 

“We talked on the phone. This is payback.”

The two men begin to fight, Dean doesn’t even try to pull punches, continuing to belittle him, yelling coming from Cole with every hit that he takes. Sam moves, waking up from a hit to the head, eyes meeting yours before flitting to Dean. Dean taunts and throws the man’s gun to the side, winking at you before he turns back to the fight.

“...spitballing here, but maybe you’re not as good as you think.” 

A pause from Dean before he laughs. “Ooh,” Dean’s hands go up in a fake surrender wave, “You know kung-fu?”

“I know everything.”

Dean gets into Cole’s face after quoting The Princess Bride, making his first mistake as Cole slices his face with his knife. Going to stab, only angering Dean more when he grabs Cole’s throat.

“You have no idea what you walked into, do you?”

“What are you?” 

Knowing Dean’s eyes are black at the expression on Cole’s face, you close your eyes, hearing the rest of the fight and Cole egging Dean on to kill him. 

“I changed my mind, I guess.” Dean chuckles before he breaks out in a hiss.

“It’s over! Stop.” 

You open your eyes and see that Sam has managed to get the Devil’s trap handcuffs on Dean. A murderous look on Dean’s face, staring up at Sam from his knees. Sam ignores his brother’s glare, looking at you as you sit back on your heels. “You okay, (Y/N/N)?”

You nod, watching Sam force Dean into the back of Baby, unable to take your eyes off Dean, who continues to kill Sam with his unblinking, scowl. 

Sam helps you up, keeping an eye on Dean so he can’t escape. “You can come with us. I’m giving the first blade to Crowley and I’m going to try to cure him. I don’t know if it’ll work but I’m hopeful.” 

You look back to your house; in the scuffle to get Dean, neither you nor Sam see where Cole flees to-- the feeling of safety and home lost, now that the invasion is over. 

Sighing, you wrap your arms around yourself, nodding and speaking softly, “yeah, let me just grab a couple of things and I’ll be down. You might need some help with him.” 

Looking back at Dean, you speak again, unsure how firm the words are. “I’ll stay until he’s cured but after that, I’m gonna go.” 

                                                                          Part Two

[thebestofoneshots]

SUPERNATURAL

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Dean Winchester

Princess ✩

Price kiss ❈

Self-care Monday ✩

Sunday Baking Madness

Lollipop

About a Girl ❈ ✩

[spnfanficpond]

How My Light Is Spent

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Case Fic, Blindness, Blind Dean Winchester, Brothers, Brotherly Love, Angst, Fluff and Angst, Angst and Feels, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Comfort, Stanford Era (Supernatural), POV Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Dean Winchester, Pre-Series Sam Winchester Summary:

Dean isn't sure what had just woken him up. He lies in bed, perfectly still, taking shallow breaths, and listens.

He doesn't know what time it is. He got back from his solo hunt and dropped into bed like a stone. No doubt it's still the middle of the night, with how pitch black everything is.

No, not black like the night; it's completely dark, like a cave, like a windowless cell.

Like a coffin.

Admin Michelle here with another SPNFanFicPond Fic Highlight!

Holy moly, this one had me tense on the edge of my seat all the way through it!! Reading Dean's inner monologue as he tries to work his way through what's happening to him and how to get help to fix it was heartbreaking. This is so well written, that I could feel Dean's panic as I was reading about it. Part of me really wants someone to make a podfic of this so someone who is visually impaired can read it and give their opinion, too.

In short, this is an excellent study in Dean's inner monologue when he's in trouble, how he reaches out for help, and how relieved and comforted he feels when it arrives. The way he feels about Sam just shines through and warms the heart!

[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.”

[whimsyfinny]

Sexy F*cking Nerd

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: When Dean discovers a little secret of (Y/n)'s during a case research session he can't help but let temptation get the best of him.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, Oral (M receiving), slight angst if you squint, Dean having a glasses kink (not really a warning but not everyone wears them hahaha lucky bastards)

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 5688

A/N: It's taken a little while but here is the second competition winner from a few weeks back, the prompt provided by the wonderful @foxyjwls007 - I hope you like it!

The motel room was stuffy to say the least - that usual aroma of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener lingering around us. There was a dripping sound coming from God knows where and the AC hummed in between the concerning clinking from deep within the vents. It was crap. So crap. But it was home for a few nights; just like all the motel rooms that came before. Dean stepped past me and over the threshold, immediately slinging his duffle and jacket onto his chosen bed. He stretched his arms above his head, the grey Henley clutching his muscular abdomen and rising enough to flaunt what lay beneath. I sighed, following him in and slumping onto the bed beside his - the musty stench from the sheets enveloping me.

“Well…” Dean started, pulling Sam's laptop out of his bag and placing it on the small table by the window.

“Well…?” My voice echoed as I focused on the ceiling fan that spun off centre.

“...This is… nice?” His statement was more of a question as he looked around with raised eyebrows. I propped myself up on my elbows, flashing him a look of speculation.

“Seriously?” A moment passed before he huffed a long-held breath and slapped his large palms on his thighs.

“No of course not, this place sucks more dick than a hooker on payday.”

“You got that right,” I flopped back down onto the bed, a small dust cloud erupting under my weight. I closed my eyes and listened as Dean pulled a chair out from under the table, slumping down into it. Then there was the familiar click of the laptop opening followed by the sound of stuttered not-quite-touch-typing, presumably he was starting work on the case that we’d come here to investigate. The tap tap tap of whatever was leaking began to drill into my brain, my patience already wearing thin with the rooms dire ambiance. I pulled myself up to sitting, criss-crossing my legs on the bed and brushing whatever that dust from the bedding was off my sweater sleeves.

“When's Sam back?” I asked, watching as Dean searched the keyboard in front of him for some long lost letter.

“Uuuh, I'm not sure. He said to work this case without him.”

“Ugghhh, I bet he's having way more fun than us right now, it's not fair,” I plopped my chin into my palm and stared past the older Winchester out the window, almost willing Sam to appear and walk in like any other day.

“It's just some dumb wedding, I doubt he's having that much fun.”

I scoffed before I could stop myself, Dean breaking eye contact with the screen to throw me a raised eyebrow.

“Look,” I collected myself, “you didn't know Sam in college. He won't admit it but he was popular. Really popular. Not the total nerd you think he is. He's absolutely having fun with these people.”

“Yeah right. So who's at this wedding anyway? Why was it so important that he just had to be there?”

I rolled my eyes, knowing full well Sam had already told him all the details. Typical Dean.

“It's for a couple of friends who he and Jess were close with back then. Pretty sure the bride was prom queen in highschool or something and the groom was a trust fund jock. Either way, not my crowd,” I sighed slightly, memories from my college days flooding my mind.

Deans eyebrows twitched into a small frown, his thoughts seeming to cloud his vision for a second before he reluctantly dismissed them. I looked down into my lap for a moment, reminiscing how I always kept my distance from Sam whilst at Stanford, but he had always been that boy that would make my heart flutter when he spoke up in class or when I'd see him on the quad with his friends. I remember seeing him with his nose in a book once at my usual desk in the library, my cheeks burning when he caught me staring. Who would've thought several years down the line I'd be sat in a bottom-rung motel room with his obscenely good looking older brother researching monster lore. At least we would be researching monster lore, if it wasn't for the small growl my empty stomach had gurgled out. I couldn't stop the small pulse of embarrassment burning into my cheeks as Dean eyed me with a grin.

“Wanna get some lunch?” He asked, standing up like he already knew my answer.

“Fuck yes. I'm feeling burgers,” I shuffled to the edge of the bed and stood up, watching as Dean shrugged on his leather jacket and headed to the door, holding it open for me.

“Now you're speaking my language.”

*

The diner was almost as sad and withered as the motel room, however the food was nothing short of spectacular. I watched in awe as Dean polished off his second burger, a small glob of sauce sticking to his stubble and threatening to drip off his chin. He must've felt me watching in wonder - or perhaps disgust - as when he looked up from his plate he shot me a questioning glance.

“What?” His tone was a little defensive through the mouthful of fries he'd just shovelled in. I took a second before asking, half-genuine:

“Where do you put all of that?”

“Put what?”

“The food - where does it go? Do you have hollow legs? Two stomachs? Does it just evaporate as soon as you swallow it?”

He grinned, wiping the sauce from his face with a napkin.

“Goes straight to the abs baby. It's muscle fuel,” he leant back in his chair, stretching a little before patting his stomach to punctuate his statement. I simply rolled my eyes.

“Yeah right, you're not that muscly Dean.”

“How would you know? You've never seen me with my shirt off.”

“I know, and I plan to keep it that way.”

He feigned a pout before returning to his fries. We ate in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, my mind absently going back to all the lore we should be trying to gather. I gripped my milkshake that had so generously been served in a thin paper cup, attempting to suck the practically solid beverage up the equally thin paper straw. Finding the nearest library would be the next task on our to-do list, despite the protesting I know I'll get from Dean.

“Hey, (Y/n)?” My train of thought was derailed at the sound of my name. The slurping of over-thickened milkshake from myself ceased.

“What's up?”

“What were you like in college?”

I eyed him with caution, wondering what part of his brain was in control right now.

“What do you wanna know?”

Catching the wariness to divulge him to such information, he smiled slightly, shrugging his shoulders.

“I'm not asking to be weird, I just-” he paused, choosing his next words tactfully, “the way you described Sam as being a totally different person - some hot-shot with the perfect grades, popular friends and a girlfriend like Jess - it just got me thinking. How would Sam have described you?”

I almost spat my dairy-goop back into the straw, my brain freezing.

“Dean,” I started before planning what I was going to say, placing my cup on the table. “Sam wouldn't be able to describe me.”

My words brought a small smirk to his lips.

“You were that hot, huh?”

“What the fuck- no- I wasn't- he didn't- Sam never- ” I stopped myself before I had an aneurysm and took a deep breath.

“I was in a totally different crowd to Sam. He was always surrounded by people and, well, I barely even had a crowd.”

“Lone wolf?”

“Bingo. But definitely not the cool, collected, stoic type. Think more, invisible to the public eye, always carrying books, and borderline selective mute because of how shy I was.”

“Oh… what changed?,” Deans tone changed entirely, genuine intrigue seeming to take the wheel. I couldn't help but laugh slightly, remembering my method to forcing myself out of my bubble.

“The only job I could get was in a bar. No one else wanted the hours and I desperately needed cash. I didn't really have a choice after that,” I paused, remembering how terrified I was on my first day and grinned slightly, grateful for the extra confidence I had now because I took that leap.

“Hey, what sort of crowd do you think I would've been in?”

I snorted, looking up into his expectant eyes - almost captivated by the glistening greens.

“What am I? A BuzzFeed quiz? I have no idea Dean, you're too much of a wildcard to predict. You probably would've fit in with anyone and everyone.”

“Even you?”

For reasons unbeknownst to even myself, my breath caught in my throat. The sudden soft sincerity of his voice contradicting his usual temperament, my heart starting to flutter in my chest. If the college version of myself had met Dean back then I just know I would have been enthralled at first glance.

“I don't think you would've noticed me. You would've been surrounded by every tall, thin blonde and brunette with perfect tits. Trust me, you would've been distracted,” I smiled an almost sad smile at the thought of him simply being on university grounds and having the time of his life - knowing it was something that he was never going to get the chance to experience in this upside down life of his. Of ours. He tapped his fingers on the table for a second, likely lost in some ludicrous thought I don't think I'd want to be privy to. I attempted another slurp of my milkshake when the paper straw gave out and flopped in half, the need to leave conversation and the diner suddenly looming over me.

“Come on, let's get to the library before it closes,” I stood and pulled my oversized sweater down so it covered my ass before reaching for my backpack. Just as my fingers touched the worn fabric of the strap it was torn away, my head snapping up to Dean who flung it over one shoulder with his signature grin on his face.

“Lead the way nerd.”

I couldn't help but beam at his playfulness. I hated the fact that he made it so easy to adore him. Hated that he completely overlooked how I was his total opposite in almost every way. How when we were talking, his eyes never left mine - how he was genuinely interested in what I was like in the past. And how, when I had his attention, he didn't even notice that the hot waitress had written her number on a napkin and left it next to him.

*

The trip to the library was about as eventful as it sounded. After checking out multiple books on cursed items, local lore and popular antiques from the seventies, we loaded ourselves back into the impala, made an all-important beer run before heading back to the motel.

The small table by the window was now totally smothered by a blanket of books, maps and empty beer bottles. Deans chin rested in his palms as he stared blankly at the screen in front of him, and I must've read the last sentence of the paragraph laid before me a dozen times without it even sinking in. The obnoxious dripping and humming of ancient appliances was starting to make me feel restless.

“It has to be the boots,” Dean groaned, draining the last of his beer.

“Either the boots or the disco ball. But my money is on boots as well,” I sighed, pushing the book away from me and standing slowly, gathering the quickly accumulating litter now scattered around us.

“I'm gonna make some coffee, my brain is fried over how fucking ridiculous this case is,” I ditched the trash in the bin before filling the coffee machine, listening to it whir to life whilst I headed to my bed. I could feel Deans gaze on my back as I rummaged around my bag in search of a specific item.

“What are you looking fo-” he'd started to ask the question but his voice died in his throat when I turned around. I quickly pushed my newly adorned glasses up the bridge of my nose, already feeling the oversized frame start to slip down as I tried not to make a big deal over them.

“What?” My tone was a fraction off aggressive when I realised he was staring. He seemed to snap out of his daze, quickly rubbing the back of his neck and turning back to the laptop screen. He cleared his throat

“I uh, I didn't know you wore glasses,” I could tell from the slight tremble in his voice that his mind was reeling.

“Is there a problem with that?”

“No! I mean, no, absolutely not. They look good. The glasses, I mean. The glasses look good. Not on their own, obviously. On your face. They look good on your face. You have a great fa-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Sorry.”

I grabbed a mug from the cupboard and set it on the counter, filling it to the brim with caffeinated goodness. I couldn't stop the grin spreading across my lips at Deans fumbling, almost finding the whole ordeal a little charming. I sat back down at the table and pulled the books back towards me, also grabbing my pen and tattered notebook.

“The guests at the club mentioned hearing footsteps - so it has to be the boots, right? A disco ball wouldn't make that sound…” my voice trailed off when I realised that, even though Dean was looking at me, he wasn't listening to a word I was saying.

“Earth to Dean?”

He flinched slightly at his name, but felt no shame delving in with a completely off-topic question.

“So how long have you worn glasses?”

“I’ve always worn them,” I slid back into my chair at the table opposite him, not sure whether to laugh at the shocked expression on his face or whether to be concerned about his observation skills.

“What?! No way, I would’ve noticed,” He opened another beer and took a sip before tracing the opening to the bottle over his bottom lip.

“ I only wear them for concentration work, and I have emergency contact lenses if I know I’m going to be around a lot of people as I don’t particularly like how they look.”

Dean made a small disagreeable expression before averting his gaze from mine back to the laptop, taking another swig of his beer. I placed my coffee mug down and settled back into the book I was reading before, and after a few moments I could feel my skin begin to prickle - as though I could feel a pair of eyes on me. I glanced up, my breath immediately catching in my throat. Deans eyes found mine, burning with an intensity that made my heart hammer in my chest. I didn’t want to look away, but under his gaze I felt like I’d been stripped bare, unable to hide my insecurities from an eye that seemed to scorch through to my very core.

“Dean-”

“(Y/n), you should really have more confidence in yourself; I think the glasses look cute as fuck. You should wear them more,” a fierce blush erupted across my face when he spoke, his assured tone leaving no room for disagreement. I tried desperately not to let on that his words held any sort of impact over my decisions so I looked down, away from his scrutiny and simply said:

“Maybe I will.”

He hummed in approval, finally looking elsewhere and I couldn’t stop myself from breathing a sigh of relief when the pressure of his stare was averted.

The evening dragged on and an hour and a half had passed since his loaded comment. I was on the third book we’d checked out of the library, now trying desperately to find the curse that would cause a pair of 1970s glam rock boots to dance for eternity and haunt anyone who tried to wear them. This case was absurd, and I could feel myself growing restless with the small amount of progress we’d made. I huffed out a sigh and leant back in my chair, the faux leather and rusted metal creaking under my weight. Pulling the hair bobble from around my wrist I scooped my hair into a bundle on the top of my head, securing it in place; the sensation of air on my neck seemed to clear some of the fog from my brain. The messy bun was comfortably enough that I could forget it was there, and I allowed myself a stretch before leaning back over the table, grasping my pen. As I began to read the next segment, I absently traced the end of the pen over my bottom lip, running it back and forth a few times before gently nibbling on the end. I heard the shuffling of Dean moving in his seat and a ragged clearing of his throat before the sound of vigorous laptop keys clicking ensued. Without looking up at him I continued reading, the pen still tapping my bottom lip, and when I neared the bottom of the paragraph, I slowly licked the pad of my index finger. My eyes never leaving the words, I turned the page swiftly with my dampened digit, the transition from one page to the next perfectly seamless. Another shuffle from the man opposite followed by a quiet groan filled the silence between us. Pen still between my teeth, I lifted only my eyes to glance at him and noted the dusting of pink across his cheeks and the furrow in his brow. Concluding that he’d had one too many beers I decided to ignore his persistent fidgeting, returning to my previous task on monotonous reading. Several sentences in and I’d almost forgotten Deans restlessness - that was until I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, deep in thought, that I earned myself a throaty groan and an exasperated sigh. I looked up just in time to watch him wipe a large hand down his face, momentarily masking his pained expression.

“Can you not do that? I can’t concentrate when you do that.”

“Do what?” Upon asking my question I absently took the pen between my teeth again, quickly glancing down at the book to place a mental bookmark.

“That.”

“What?”

“That. That thing you do with our mouth, and the pen, and your tongue and your finger. Can you please stop before it kills me.”

The heat beneath my skin was immediate at his admission, knowing my small, absent-minded actions were playing on his mind and making it hard for him to think straight. I instinctively crossed my legs, a fluttering in my lower belly instantly dragging my mind back to the deprived things I’d imagined Dean doing to me in the depths of night. The places I’d imagined his hands travelling, the areas his lips would touch and the sensations his tongue could create. These were deeply, deeply personal fantasies, and right now as Dean looked at me with a restrained hunger, I felt like I was wearing these fantasies for the world to see. For Dean to see.

“It doesn’t help that you’ve been sat over there like a sexy fucking librarian all evening, but every time you do that anything with that mouth - shit, sweetheart you’re driving me insane.” His voice was gravelly as he looked at me with desperate eyes across the table. The overly rational part of my brain had shut down completely, and now the part of my mind that had spent hours conjuring vivid scenes of Dean Winchester ravishing me in my entirety had taken the charge. I stood slowly, taking a moment to reason with myself - unsuccessfully of course - before sinking to my knees in front of my chair. I could see Deans strong thighs were spread wide beneath the table so I crawled forwards, across the cold tiles and placed myself between his legs. Resting my palms softly on his thighs I made him flinch at the unexpected contact. He immediately scooted his chair back, allowing a gap for me to poke my head through - his hand instantly acting as a barrier between the edge of the table and my skull. I got comfortable and allowed myself a moment to gaze up at him, to take in the strained furrow in his brow and the parting of his lips. I observed the way his chest rose and fell in apprehensive breaths, and the way his free hand clenched into a fist on his thigh - like he was so desperate yet so scared to touch me.

“(Y/n)-”

“Dean,” I spoke softly, slowly running my hands up his thighs - delicate palms against rough denim, “you’re a smart boy - you know I wouldn’t do something I didn’t want to do. So please, don’t say I don’t have to do this.”

Dean released a shaky breath the moment my fingers unclasped his jeans. I tugged them down slightly with his help, just enough so I could dip my hand into his boxers and wrap my fingers around his half-hard length. The moment my skin touched his, his head lolled back and his eyes fluttered closed with a breathy moan on his lips.

“Fuck…”

I gently pulled him from his confines, coming face to face with the cock I’d literally dreamt of again and again. I took the scene in, committing to memory the sharp outline of his jaw and the way his long lashes rested on his lightly-freckled cheeks. The way that, every time he breathed in, I could see his defined muscle tone through the thin fabric of his shirt; and with every small caress that my fingers made against his length, it made his fingers twitch and teeth clench. I licked my lips before leaning in and took his tip into my mouth, not giving him a chance to finish sucking in air through his teeth before I plunged his entire length down my throat. 

“Oh FUCK.”

His hands flew to my hair, fingers gripping tight as they loosened strands from the messy bun, causing them to fall around my face. He’d lifted his head to look down at me, pupils blown as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth. He looked nothing more than enthralled. Infatuated. Entranced. I moved my head up and down, up and down, again and again to a steady rhythm, pressing my tongue to the underside of his now rock-hard cock to trace every vein and nerve-ending.

“Shit, (Y/n), I didn’t know you could suck cock, like, at all… how’re you s’fuckin’ good…” his voice was breathless as he continued to grip my hair, his head flopping to the side as pleasure started to overcome his senses. I released him with a small ‘pop’, wrapping my fingers around him and smearing the warm mixture of saliva and precum from tip to base.

“Despite everything I told you earlier, Dean, I’m not a virgin - and this certainly isn’t my first rodeo,” my voice came out more sultry than I’d expected and I could feel Dean tremble beneath my palms.

“Fuck, I wish I’d known that sooner,” I chewed on my bottom lip, quickly becoming addicted to the way he writhed at my touch. The way he moaned and gripped my hair tighter when I sucked him back into my mouth was like pure ecstasy, my insides heating up and throbbing with an ache of familiar arousal. Like a thirst that could only be satisfied by him. By tasting him, feeling him on my tongue and drinking in every sound that passed his plush parted lips. The sensation of my glasses slipping down my nose as I sped up my ministrations had me reaching to push them back up, but not before Dean beat me to it. With the rough pad of his thumb he pushed on the plastic bridge, his palm and fingers pressed to my flushed cheek in the most tender, almost heart wrenching caress. I thought my heart might stop when he tilted my face up to his; lustful eyes burning into mine with a vehemence I’d never encountered. I stopped in my tracks, all actions ceased as the spell he’d somehow put me under wouldn’t let me look away. 

“If you keep going like that darlin’ this whole thing is gonna be over before you know it,” his voice was raspy, a rawness to it from the harsh breaths and ragged moans that had been pulled from his throat. He slowly pulled his cock from my spit-slick lips and grasped it loosely, giving himself a few lazy pumps whilst his other hand never left my face. He stared down at me, taking a few moments as though he was committing the sight of me, knelt between his knees with flushed cheeks and swollen lips to memory. Once it seemed that memory was locked away in the depths of his mind, he grasped me by the arm and pulled me effortlessly into his lap, his fingers almost bruising against my skin. Immediately I felt him, in his entirety, press against me with the heat and wetness seeping through my jeans and past my panties. This time when our eyes met, there was a mutual desperation; a need to consume each other and to feel every inch of his heated skin against mine. He pulled me frantically down to him and crashed his lips against mine. 

Some people describe their first kiss with someone like butterflies in their stomach, or fireworks exploding all around them. That wasn’t at all what this was like. Kissing Dean Winchester was different - it was wild and untamed - and describing this experience in such a mundane way would be like adding water to a top-shelf whiskey. Kissing Dean Winchester was like driving the impala at one thirty with the roar of the engine drowning out the rest of the world. It was like trying to ride a wild mustang without a saddle, or daring to stand on the highest peak on Earth with nothing to tie you down. It was exhilarating in the most dangerous way imaginable - and I was now officially a thrill seeker. 

The warm taste of the beer on his tongue and the masculine scent of old leather and cologne was pulling me under. Breathing no longer mattered as long as his mouth was on mine and his fingers were in my hair, now tugging the bobble out and throwing it to the floor. As my hair tumbled free he grabbed under my thighs and stood effortlessly, moving me from his lap to the edge of the table without his lips leaving mine. I winced slightly as the corners and several books and the laptop jabbed into my rear and I fumbled to move everything aside, failing when I refused to unlock our lips. Deans patience was non-existent and with one sweep of his strong arm everything tumbled to the floor - including the laptop. I threw the remaining books from underneath me down to join them, no longer caring for their wellbeing. Before I could pull Dean back in - to allow him to do whatever the fuck he wanted to do to me - he hastily pulled off my boots and tugged down my jeans, throwing every item to the growing pile of chaos beside us. I discarded my sweater and top, but before I let his fingers touch my bra I wanted nothing more than to return the favour. 

“I guess you can forget about that whole ‘never seeing me shirtless’ thing, huh?” he smirked through the sexual fog, not waiting for a reply as his lips hungrily found mine again, his own top falling to the floor. 

“Shut up Winchester. Now are you gonna fuck me or wh- OH FUCK-”

Two thick fingers crept under my panties and plunged into me with zero hesitation, curling up and stroking the sensual cushion deep within my core with skillful precision. 

“Oh yeah? You want me to fuck you?” Even with my face now buried in the crook of his neck, I could hear the smirk in his voice, the tormenting tone going straight to my brain.

“Y-yes- fuck- please,” my knees twitched either side of him, squeezing at his hips with every push of his fingers. I gripped his shoulders tight, nails indenting his skin as I leant back to look at him better. Seeing the beads of sweat on his chest and brow alongside the raw, carnal desire in his eyes could have undone me there and then. He frowned in disapproval when I moved to remove my glasses, the fingers that were just inside me now wrapped forcefully around my wrist.

“What d’ya think you’re doing?” straight away I knew his growling question left no room for negotiation.

“I was just-”

“The glasses stay on.”

“To the end?”

“‘Til I say you can take them off.”

I did as I was told, moving my hand to grip the soft strands on the back of his neck, softly dragging my nails over his scalp and drawing a shiver from his spine and a groan from his lungs. He pulled me against him, crushing his lips against mine one more time. He swiftly pulled away and I leant back on my hands, both of us taking a moment to drink each other in - to bask in lascivious glory. I pulled my bottom lip between my teeth and looked up at him through my lashes, the lenses of my glasses starting to fog around the edges. Another deep moan rumbled from his chest as his heated gaze stayed locked to mine.

“I can’t wait any longer now that you’ve looked at me like that. Fuck.”

With a large hand gripping the soft flesh of my thigh he pulled my underwear to one side and lined himself up, slowly sinking in. Blissful moans harmonised between us, the rawness of him stretching me was unlike anything I’d ever experienced and my quivering thighs wrapped around him, pushing him to the hilt. He secured his large hands on the soft flesh of my hips and held me in place as he slowly withdrew. I could feel him; feel every ridge and vein drag out and then in, out and in, over my most sensitive, intimate, area. The slick sounds of our intimacy  began to echo around the room as he picked up speed, strong thighs working at a feverish pace. With every thrust he pushed against that one spot that made my legs jerk and eyes water, my arms almost giving out underneath me as the table rattled beneath my weight. With the ferocity of his pounding and the heightened sensitivity he’d curated between my legs only moments before, we both knew that neither of us would last long. The sounds of his ragged breaths and throaty moans alone had me clenching around him already, and I know my constricting muscles already had his hips stuttering as I sucked him in with every thrust.

“Fuck (Y/n)- You’re so fuckin’ tight-”

I chewed on my bottom lip as his desperate eyes met mine.

“Oh yeah? Well I feel like you’re cock is in my fucking ribcage- oh fuck-”

He slipped one hand between us, his large palm resting on my lower belly as his thumb drew fast circles around my clit. The immediate contact on my bundle of nerves had my whole body quivering, the knot of an impending climax already starting to twist tighter and tighter in the depths of my core. The way that Dean fucked me into the motel room table was something that I would be able to feel deep in my soul for the rest of my life - my body and entire nervous system having never been worked in such a feral way before. Dean dropped forward and crushed my body into his - one large strong arm wrapped around my trembling body and kept me pressed against him as his head dropped to the crook of my neck. Soft lips pressed hot kisses against my shoulder, teeth gently nibbling the soft flesh as the coil wound and wound, the wave of orgasmic bliss rising higher and higher as my mind emptied, leaving behind only one thought.

Dean.

He was all consuming - all I could see, taste and smell. All I could feel. Oh God could I feel him; driving me to the brink of pure bliss as he frantically sped up - desperate to seek his own undoing as well as my own. One… two… three more fervid thrusts and the peak he’d helped me ascend to shattered around me as I practically screamed his name, the white-hot euphoria scorching my insides as I clamped like a vice around him. 

“Oh shit- (Y/n) I can’t- fuck-”

I grabbed the back of his head and pushed his mouth to mine as he came undone, spilling inside me as he worked through his own white-hot euphoria. 

The kiss we shared evolved from hot and needy to soft and wanting - the sensation of hot cum running down the inside of my thigh and cooling against my skin being the only thing to pull me away. Dean continued to lean over me for a moment, looking down at me with an expression that told me he had so much he wanted to say. Instead, he looked down at his release now starting to pool on the floor beneath us, then to the books and laptop that had been thrown across the floor before turning back to face me with the most devilish grin on his face.

“You know that this mess is all your fault, right?”

I scoffed.

“My fault? How is it my fault?”

“Because, sweetheart…” he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear and pushed lightly on the plastic bridge sitting on my nose.

“You put on on those fucking glasses.”

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

Taglist: @roseblue373 @hobby27 @calibootsgirl @suckitands33 @jackles010378 @lyarr24 @autistic-gothic @wattpaduser200 @spndeanwinchesterlvr @mxtansy @libby99hb @magssteenkamp @redmaro86 @slut-for-evans-stan @spookyysinsanity @localjisung

[sleepyangelkami]

AN ANGEL d.winchester

𝜗𝜚 WORD COUNT - 4.5K

DEAN WINCHESTER X FEM!READER

𝜗𝜚 SUMMARY - You're nervous to lose your virginity, Dean shows you everything that you've been missing out on.

𝜗𝜚 WARNINGS - smut, dom!dean, sub!reader, nervous/shy!reader, unprotected sex, creampie, p!v, teasing, loss of virginity, fingering, hickeys (r.recieving), size kink, praise kink, dean is experienced, reader is inexperienced, (1) thigh slap, big dick!dean, boob fondling, boob sucking, reader is smaller than dean, illusions to past masturbation, reader blushes, petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

dean liked having you sat in his lap.

this wasn't the first time, your legs stretched around his waist while your hands scrunched idly at the black shirt he'd been wearing, your lips against his own. making out with you had to be possibly the best thing he'd ever done. it was like getting sent to heaven and back, between each breath he damned the gods that disallowed him to press his lips against yours for forever.

but you were new to all this.

he had to be gentle.

dean was the first real relationship you'd ever had. and if he was being honest, you were sort of the first real relationship he'd ever had too.

he used to hop from girl to girl, bed to bed and not think twice about it. you were the absolute opposite. you were the type of girl that didn't speak unless spoken to, you kept your head down and got through everything without so much as letting your imagination wander with what it would feel like to be with a man.

then you met him.

his hands were pinching at the fat of your thighs, he found it hard to keep his hands to himself when you were like this. between kisses, he could hear the shakiness in your breaths, it drove him unbelievably mad.

you felt almost sorry for dean, knowing it'd taken this long to get comfortable enough to even make out with the man. you knew his history and how he wouldn't go longer than a week without someone in his bed. now he'd went more than three months with you like this, aching for more.

and it wasn't like you didn't want more, believe me, you'd been aching just as horribly.

you were just... scared?

deans hands moved harshly against your skin, right hand coming down to gently slap your thigh before gripping it once again. the feeling prompted a low whimper to leave your lips.

dean almost groaned. he could get used to hearing noises like those.

when the man pulled away from your lips, heavy breaths still leaving his own, you swore you could have whimpered again just from the loss of contact.

he looked down at you, eyes all blown wide, lips slick and swollen, it was a sight he hoped was never erased from his memory. he wanted to remember this forever. "y'so needy." he had that cocky grin on his lips, cocking his head to the side as he viewed you as a whole, all his, right in his lap for the taking.

you felt your cheeks get hot at the sentence, eyes immediately darting anywhere other than his face. "don' be mean." was the mumble you let out, eyes adverting and voice lowering. you weren't able to talk to him, not when he got like this, all 'bigger' than you, it made you feel small, it made you feel wet.

"'m not, 'm not." he spoke with a low chuckle, one of his hands raising to meet your face, you felt the padding of his thumb wipe across your hot cheeks, he could tell you were nervous. then again, you were always so nervous. "i think it's cute."

again, your face got increasingly hotter but dean didn't leave you any room for words, dipping his head so his lips could meet your neck.

there was something so surreal about being like this, your hands gripping at his shirt, top lip clamped down on your bottom as he kissed against the skin of your neck.

again, this wasn't the first time he'd done something like this. makeouts and hickey-leaving was getting more and more natural in your relationship, common, even.

he'd come home from his hunts with sam and all he'd want was you either below or on top of him, his lips against anything they could reach.

you felt his lips part, sucking against your neck as one hand ran up your back, the other cupping the back of your hair. once he sucked, his tongue would smooth over the skin, pleasure to ease the pain. and he'd go again, gradually moving to different places on your neck. marking you.

your own lips were strewn shut, you were hoping and praying on every star that you didn't let a noise slip from you. you were too nervous, too embarrassed but the whole point of this was to feel good, wasn't it? so why did you feel so embarrassed to show him how good it felt?

your eyes fluttered shut, the feeling suddenly overwhelming.

you didn't register the move of your hips until his lips left your neck and his hands clamped down on your waist, low grunt leaving his mouth.

you stared at him with those big eyes and he swore he was gone. "y'can't do that, sweetheart." despite his words, his tone was gentle. "can't start something if you don't want to finish it."

he knew how inexperienced you were, he thought you wanted to hold off on losing your virginity which is why he'd never made such a move but by the way you were looking at him now, he swore you wanted nothing more than for him to take you.

and he'd gladly do so upon your command.

"i do..." you uttered. ".. want to." the words made your insides twinge, made your nose scrunch and your lips purse.

you were too nervous, shaking like a leaf on top of him. even so, with so much anxiety bottled into a human, dean made no movements of caution.

you sort of liked that dean wasn't as awkward or nervous as you were. dean was confident, that much was for sure. but being so confident also gave him this openness, seeping comfort into your veins as his large, warm hands trailed up and down your thighs.

"yeah?" his voice was breathy and his smile had left his features. he didn't need to be so teasing now, he knew you would simply burst of shyness. and he didn't want you in a position of uncertainty. "what d'you want?"

he wasn't trying to tease you, though he knew his fingers that began to dance against your skin were doing nothing to calm your nerves.

he just needed to hear you say it.

you planted your face into his chest with an incoherent mumble, cheeks alight as flames.

dean could have laughed at you but he didn't want you thinking you'd done something wrong. on the contrary, he found it downright adorable how shy you'd been getting. but you couldn't help it, this was such an unfamiliar feeling bubbling in your stomach.

"can't hear you, sweetheart." his head came down to sit atop yours, his voice a gentle whisper. "i need you to tell me what you want, okay?" his free hand tipped your chin upwards to look at him, those pretty green eyes held so much sincerity. "use your words f'me, baby."

words felt stuck in your throat, you couldn't seem to get them out. but dean didn't want to let this get away from him, he steadied your chin between his fingers.

"i want..." your voice was all breathy, all needy. it had dean reeling. "i want you to touch me."

and as the words passed your lips, you swear all the air was knocked from your lungs. listening to yourself talk had made your head feel fuzzy. before dean, you couldn't have even imagined such words leaving your lips.

dean was struggling to compose himself but nonetheless, he did. his lips quirked into this proud yet sly smirk as his fingers ran up and down your thighs. "where, angel? here?" he practically mocked, fingers against your knee.

at this point, dean had never seen an angel, he didn't believe in them. but he was sure that if angels did exist, you had to be one of them.

you could have corrected him verbally, told him to stop teasing or even scolded him for mocking you while you were all worked up like this. but instead, you chose to grasp his bigger hand in your own and trail it towards your core.

as your hand cupped his own, he could feel them shake, he almost cooed at you but he didn't want to make you more nervous than you already were.

but when his hand finally reached your clothed core, he couldn't help but let out a groan.

it didn't take longer than a second for dean to have you flipped over with your back against the mattress of the bed. a noise left your lips as he towered over you, that infamous smirk etched to his lips.

but a type of seriousness washed over him. "are you sure you want this?"

you knew he wasn't asking you to tease you or make you wait, he was being sincere and you couldn't have been more sincere back by bucking your hips with a low whine of the word, "yes." quickly followed by a "please."

"so needy." he mumbled back, lips moving to your neck while his fingers fumbled at the cotton material of your baby blue sleep shorts. he hooked his fingers around the waistband and tore it off skilfully.

he supposed his experience was paying off.

you didn't have any time to counter what he'd said, too focused on the feeling building in your stomach. much of it was worry, anxiety even but the majority of it was this foreign, amazing feeling.

"fuck." his ring clad fingers circled against your panties. you were suddenly hyper aware of how worked up you'd gotten while making out with him, a blush creeping in on your face as you turned away from him.

dean all but tutted, dragging your face back.

"don't get shy on me now, sweetheart. This wet for me, the least you can do is look at me." he had that empowering stare that told you he was in charge here, it had you shrinking further into the mattress.

but dean wasn't demanding, sure he was dominating but he didn't make you uncomfortable. truthfully, you'd been rather scared of getting this far with anybody but you were sure that if there was anybody you wanted it to be with, it was him.

his hands toyed at waistbands of your panties. "this okay?" his eyes were glued to your face, trying to watch every way your face contorted, making sure you were okay.

believe it or not, there was a lot one could tell from just looking at someone.

you nodded your head briskly, darkened and bitten lips parted slightly, covered in the slick left behind from your tongue. your cheeks had turned a darkened colour too, blush spreading across your face.

there was something so surreal about looking at you like this, knowing nobody else ever had. he pulled the panties down your legs, watching you steadily with his own lips parting open. his eyes moved from yours to trail down your body, landing on your sopping core. he couldn't help but breathe in a breath.

"you're so pretty, angel." he moved his hand upwards again, closed fingers gently toying with your clit, which earned a soft gasp from you. his lips quirked as he brought his hand away, using the other to slip off his ring. he took your wrist, holding it up gently. "take care of this for me, yeah?" you nodded as he slipped the ring onto your thumb, seeing as your other fingers wouldn't fit it. "good girl." he mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

he was suddenly hyper aware of the fact that you were a virgin.

now, dean wasn't necessarily put off by the fact that you were a virgin. dean couldn't have cared less what you were. but he needed to make sure he was gentle, more so than any other time.

because he was the first, the one you'd remember forever.

though, he intended to be your very last, too.

his fingers trailed across your pretty tank top, down to your hips and finally edging between your legs. he peppered kisses against your face and down across your jaw, finally landing on your neck, fingers pushing your legs apart with ease.

as shy as you were, you didn't hide from him, you allowed him to part your legs, his hand was against your inner thigh, softly soothing up and down against your skin.

but he had to make sure, before he touched you. "sure this is okay? not having second thoughts?"

of course dean wanted to but he only wanted to if you wanted to. but you nodded anyway, swallowing though your mouth was dry anyway. "'m just nervous." you admitted softly.

it was no secret to dean that you were a nervous creature already. he knew this was all new to you but he didn't want you to feel shy around him. "you don't need to be." he pressed a kiss against the supple of your cheek, hand moving further as you let out a shaky breath. "not with me." as the whisper left his mouth, his hand came up to touch your hot core.

the noise that left your mouth should have embarrassed you but right now, you couldn't think of anything other than the feeling of his hand right where you needed him.

he collected your wetness onto his fingers, spreading it up and down your folds, two fingers parting from the rest as he gently eased them into your hole.

heavy breaths suddenly left you, chest rising and falling while dean's face was practically hidden in your neck, peppering kisses, sucking and licking against the soft skin while his fingers settled inside of you.

he gave you hardly any time to adjust to the feeling, pulling them out and then thrusting them right back into you. "you're so warm, sweetheart." he mumbled in slight awe. suddenly, the image took over his mind, the image of him inside of you. he couldn't seem to wipe it away.

he knew that giving yourself to him even just like this was a lot for you, he didn't want to push you any further than he already had tonight.

however, the image still tainted his memory.

as the speed of his fingers increased, so did the volume of your noises.

a sticky, wet sound bounced from wall to wall, causing your cheeks to warm incredibly further. you flushed, your own hand coming up to cover your mouth, suddenly aware of how loud you'd been.

a coo left his lips, free hand coming to drag your wrist away from your mouth. "wanna hear every noise you can make, angel."

and his words alone made you whimper.

the palm of his hand bounced against your clit with every thrust of his hand, emitting these noises from you that you'd never been able to draw from yourself.

"y'sound so pretty, you know that, baby?" you made a noise to show you were listening, though all it told dean was that you felt good. "look so pretty too. so beautiful. all mine."

dean couldn't keep his hands to himself.

his free hand dragged against your skin, pushing at it as if trying to get closer to you in any way possible.

against his fingers formed a creamy ring. he looked down at his digits sliding in and out of you, wetness surrounding you both, keeping you together by a wet string.

he let his thoughts wander.

as evil as it was, he simply couldn't think of anything else, he imagined it was his dick sliding in and out of your hot, wet hole, the noises you'd make would be so much louder, you'd be so much fuller.

then he was suddenly aware of your experience once again.

you were tight, incredibly tight which only made him scissor his fingers. if you were going to take his dick, he needed to stretch you out first.

"dean!" you spluttered out as he scissored his fingers inside of you. "c-cant."

your hips bucked backwards, as if you were trying to tell yourself to stop, but it felt too good to stop.

and dean knew your body well, more than you knew it apparently for he only tutted, holding your wrist in his free hand. "you can take it baby, there you go." and he must have known what was happening because your insides were turning to mush.

you'd orgasmed by yourself before but this? this was true bliss.

he held your waist down to the mattress as your body squirmed, head falling back into the pillows as his name fell on your lips, moans and whines blissfully leaving your slick lips.

"good girl." he mumbled, pressing kisses anywhere his lips could reach. "you're so good, there you go. atta girl."

his words of praise fell on your lips, only making you squirm impossibly more. but nonetheless, he kept up his pace, fingers moving to help you ride out your high.

dean swore he'd never seen something so beautiful.

he watched in awe, staring at the way your face scrunched up, pretty lips parted and your eyes screwed closed, though he could only imagine you were seeing stars behind your lids, not that he was being cocky or anything.

the sight was pure bliss, angelic, even.

he swore he'd been to heaven and back, just watching your face contort.

and he'd watch it forever, if he could.

he was suddenly aware of how tight his jeans felt.

"i need to fuck you." he was mumbling with a slight neediness in his tone, kissing up and down your throat, his hand only coming to a halt when your own practically pushed it away, the overstimulation becoming too much. "can i?" a beat passed. "please?"

his face rose to meet yours and you stared at him, all blissed out. you swore that his fingers were the most skilled, pleasurable feeling you'd ever felt, much better than to how it felt when you'd done it by yourself. your lips were glossed over, heavy pants leaving your chest. huge eyes and flushed cheeks.

almost a whine of the phrase, "uh-huh." passed your lips.

and it was enough for him.

his lips crashed into your own, kissing you ever so softly, though there was passion hidden somewhere between your heavy breaths.

needy hands pawed at the end of his black shirt, his own hands reached down to cup yours, helping you tear it off of his body. his amulet dangled downwards, just below your face and he was suddenly very aware of the fact that your top was still on. he supposed he'd been too focused on making you feel good to realise.

his hands reached the end of your own top, helping you push it over your head.

no words left his lips but they parted, tongue passing over the bottom one as he stared.

your pink bra was so pretty on you he almost had to think to decide whether or not he wanted to keep it on. but he decided with the latter, hands unhooking your bra skillfully, as if he'd done it a thousand times before.

he hardly got to see your boobs, for his hands cupped them as soon as they were let out of the bra. he cursed out a grunt under his breath, one hand leaving your breast so his mouth could replace it.

against the mattress, your back arched, stomach against his own while you bit back the pretty whimpers which he yearned to hear. his mouth worked against you, rolling his tongue back and forth, practically flicking your nipple in his mouth making you unable to contain the sounds you so desperately tried to keep back.

"d―dean!" you spluttered, eyes fluttering shut. his own eyes looked up at you, watching your face contort once again.

he had to have you.

as his face left your chest, a string of spit connected your boobs to his lips.

he wiped it away, though nothing could wipe away that smut smirk he held. nonetheless, he helped himself to shimmying out of his jeans, taking his boxers off with it.

it wasn't until he took everything off that reality set in. you stared, eyes blown wide, he was, well... big. and it was sort of hard not to get nervous, even with the fact that his fingers had just been stuffed inside of you, you weren't so sure it was going to fit.

"you okay?" he leaned down, towering over you. he realised your eyes hadn't moved from his dick, pulling your chin up with his two fingers. "are you sure you want this?"

you nodded your head, thoughts a mere muddle of clouds. "i just... 'm nervous." you admitted, feeling your stomach fill with this fuzzy feeling that you only got when you talked to dean.

"you don't have to be nervous, sweetheart, not with me, okay?" the palm of his hand rested on your face. "do you want this?"

"yes." you answered without a beat.

"promise?" you could have melted right then and there. dean winchester was of many things but above all, he was gentle.

"promise." you mumbled, finding yourself relaxing just at the mere sound of his voice. his hand trailed up to find your own, fingers interlocking yours. his free hand moved down to his dick, pressing it in his hand.

you watched with curiosity yet also nervousness. you'd never seen this done in real life, so the shyness was creeping in as you watched him move his hand up and down his shaft, dragging it towards your wet hole. instantly, a sound left your lips, blush instantly creeping in as your eyes snapped up to him. he only smiled gently at you, finding your shyness rather adorable.

the head of his dick slowly pushed inside of you and that alone had you feeling awfully stretched. he wasn't just long, he was thick too meaning he stretched you out completely. "okay?" you nodded at the sound of his question, the feeling of his lips on your cheek moments after. "'s gonna hurt a little, alright?"

you nodded your head, eyes shutting closed as you braced yourself.

you weren't an idiot either, you knew first times were supposed to hurt but luckily for you, you had dean right there, holding one of your hands tight in his own, soft whispers and kisses against your skin.

what more could you really ask for.

he slowly eased himself inside of you, worried he was hurting you. then again, there wasn't really any other way to get inside without hurting you. he watched as your face contorted, a gentle whimper leaving your lips but he knew it wasn't one of pleasure, more of pain, actually.

he mumbled gentle apologies and left a trail of them in kisses from your neck to your cheeks.

finally, he was in completely and he couldn't help the string of curses that he mumbled under his breath.

dean stayed as still as he could. worry set in, he didn't want to hurt you, not when you'd been so nervous in the first place. he'd been with many girls but you were a tight fit around him, swallowing his dick whole. he couldn't help but almost coo at the way your hole clenched around him.

he felt your hips shift, and he knew you were ready. "can i―fuck, sweetheart, can i move?"

again, you nodded with a subtle whine that told him in other words, yes, he absolutely could move. and that was exactly what he did.

he slowly pulled his dick out from inside you then suddenly slammed his hips back in, his dick hitting the spot deep inside your walls. instantly, he was met with a mewl.

"shit." he uttered, wanting to draw as many sounds like that out of you as he could. his two hands now rested on yours tightening his grip as he placed them over your head so he could gain better access. "oh, fuck, sweetheart, you're so fucking pretty."

it seemed as though dean had the mouth similar to a sailor when put in a position like this.

but he couldn't help it, you were staring at him with those doe eyes, pretty noises falling from you. his hips moved with ease, slamming in and out of you, it didn't take him long to pick up the pace either.

your legs lifted to surround his waist, moans leaving the two of you as his hips slammed inside of you.

"shit, you're so good for me." he was a mumbling mess, he meant every word of what he said, though he wasn't too sure what was leaving his lips as of now. "oh, my sweet girl, thaaat's it."

he tipped his head forward, connecting his forehead to your own. your whimpers and whines were swallowed by a kiss, gentle yet so full of neediness, it was exactly what you wanted.

"feels..." you mumbled once your lips had parted, though you were sort of dazed, not all the way there. "feels so good."

"good girl, 's it, take it all." you felt his hand suddenly trail down, fingers soft against your clit while his dick still hot between your gummy walls. "'s okay, you're okay."

you shook your head, swallowing thickly as your hips bucked. "'s―'s too much!" you panted out, moans leaving you as if you couldn't keep them inside.

"you can take it, baby, know you can." but he could tell by the way your face twisted again, you were close.

and so was he.

"you gonna let go f'me? huh?"

at this point, your eyes had fluttered shut and you lips were parted as you nodded, brows strewn together. "gonna... 'm gonna cum, dean."

"that's my girl." he answered, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "cum all over my dick f'me, sweetheart."

you supposed you were more obedient than you thought.

dean watched as you squirmed and moaned, eyes screwed shut as you finally let go around him. he could feel your gummy walls squeezing him tighter, a ring of slick had formed at the base of his dick. the mere sight, his dick still stuffed inside your cunt and you, cumming all over him.

well, it was enough to have any man weak.

which was why he'd finished so quickly, too.

after all, he'd been holding on since you were sat on his lap.

and that one feeling, cumming in your wet, hot walls and watching you with that pretty, stricken and worn out face as you came on him too... he swore he had really been to heaven and back.

when you both rode out your highs, he laid himself on the bed next to you, watching as you reached your hand up, playing with his silver ring that sat on your thumb.

he swore he was staring at an angel.

main masterlist/dean's masterlist

[drulalovescas]

This genre of pics

[5sospenguinqueen]

(Y/N and Dean stare out of the motel window)

Sam: What’re you guys doing?

Dean: TV doesn’t work.

Y/N: So, we’re watching the couple in the car park break up.

[daughterofcain-67-tbr]

This was honestly really sweet to me… Dean deserves so much even if he doesn’t see it. This was certainly well written and worth the read and even a re-read 💖💖💖

Heart Of Stone

Dean x reader

Word Count- 1630

Warnings- Angst, Self-loathing Dean (yes, that's a warning 😂), A little fluff

A/N- This fills my "Unexpected Touch" square for @jacklesversebingo

Dean woke with a start, his body and pajamas drenched in sweat. Another nightmare, another sleepless night. You’d think with everything he’s seen in his life, he’d be used to them. But, he has to take deep breaths and try to still his racing heart every time, ground himself to keep from panicking. He hates it. Hates how, after all these years, his fears still plague him. 

This dream was different than the usual nightmares. It wasn’t the faces of all the people he couldn’t save or the monsters that had tried to end him. No, this one was worse. It was about her, and those are the worst. He can handle the trauma that comes with his job and take the guilt and sadness that comes with it, calm himself, and push it down. But, when it comes to the nightmares about her, he can’t. 

Y/N had carved her way into his heart the last few months, whether he wanted her to or not. She meant so much to him. Just the thought of her smiling face or the brightness in her eyes when she spoke to him always calmed his nerves. Hell, who’s he kidding? She soothed his soul. But she would never know that. She couldn’t. Dean wasn’t the kind of man that deserved a woman as good as her. As much as he wanted to be selfish, open himself up to her, let her in, and let her start to heal him, he wouldn’t. She didn’t deserve to be dragged down by his self-loathing, insecurities, or the inevitable misery that would come with being with him. No, as much as he wanted to be a man she deserved, a man worthy of her love, he wasn’t and never would be. So, as with everything thing else, he’ll push his feelings down and bury them deep. 

As he sat on his bed, back against the headboard, his mind swirling with all the negative thoughts, a soft knock on his door made him jump. He would know that sound anywhere. It was Y’N’s knock. Yes, he had it so bad for her that he could differentiate her knuckles on his door from everyone else’s. He sighed, running his hand down his face, and tried to calm himself before she entered his room. 

“Come in,” his shaky voice echoed through the silence. 

“I thought I heard you scream. Are you okay?” she asked as she peeked around the door. Her hair falling around her face out of her messy bun made him smile softly. Damn, she was beautiful. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m good.” 

“Why don’t I believe you?” she smirked, walking into the room and putting her hand on her hip. 

He knew he wouldn’t be able to lie to her. She always saw right through him, which made her more endearing and infuriated him simultaneously. He took a deep breath and exhaled loudly, pinching the bridge of his nose. She wasn’t going anywhere, so he might as well tell her the truth. Well, half-truth. She didn’t need to know that he had a nightmare about her. How he had allowed himself to have her, just to watch her die bloody.

“I had a bad dream. Nothing to worry about. You can go back to bed.” 

“Dean…” she sighed, walking over to sit beside him, taking his big hand in hers, “You do know you can talk to me. You don’t always have to go through everything alone. It’s okay to let someone be there for you every now and then.” 

“I know, but I’m fine. Honestly,” he smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes, the tell-tell crinkles by his eyes not there. She knew he was faking it, and she wasn’t leaving until he talked to her. He was always there for everyone he cared about, shouldering the majority of everything, and he deserved to be cared for this time. 

“Let me take care of you for once. You don’t have to be the tough guy all the time,” she whispered, reaching up to cup his cheek in her small hand, caressing it with her thumb as her other hand entwined with his. 

His breath caught in his throat, heart racing, as he stared at her. The unexpectedness of her soft touch had surprised him, thrown him off guard, and he was frozen. His head and his heart were in a battle with each other. His mind telling him to back away, to leave now, and to end it before it can go any further. On the other hand, his heart screamed at him to stay, pull her to him, kiss her, and tell her how much he loved her. Casting his eyes down, he tried to decide whether to run or remain where he was when she spoke. 

“Dean, look at me,” she pleaded, and when he didn’t look up, she slid her hand from his cheek to his chin, lifting his face to look him in the eyes. 

“Y’N, don’t, please,” he whimpered, his willpower slowly chipping away as she stared at him, the longing in her eyes breaking his heart. Because all he wanted was her, to take her in his arms, but he couldn’t. She deserved so much more than a man like him could ever give her. 

“No, Dean, you don’t. If I’m wrong, please correct me, but I’ve seen how you look at me. How your eyes follow me when I’m in the room, the longing in them when you think I’m not looking. I know this because that’s how I look at you. If you haven’t noticed, I want you, and I think you want me too,” she admitted, her voice trembling with the anxiousness of how he would respond. She doesn’t know if she can handle his rejection. 

“It doesn’t matter what I want.” 

“Yes, it does, Dean. It matters just as much as what everyone else wants. You deserve happiness, too.” 

“I’m not a good man, sweetheart-” he began to speak, but she cut him off.

“That’s bullshit! You’re the best man I know!” she shouted, her frustration with his self-doubt spilling out.

“It’s not. You want the truth? I hate what I see when I look in the mirror; hate the man that’s staring back at me. You see these hands?” he lifted his hands, turning them around for her to see, “They’ve killed people, Y/N. There’s a dark side to me. You’re telling me that’s a man you want to be with? Because you deserve more, so much more.” 

“Dean…” she whimpered, his words breaking her heart. How could he not see what everyone else sees? “First, you don’t get to decide what I want or deserve. And second, you want to know what I see when I look at you? I see a man who raised his little brother to be an incredible man. I see a man who puts everyone above him, no matter what, always putting himself last to make sure everyone else is taken care of. And these hands, all I see are hands that are cut, calloused, and scarred because he puts himself in danger daily to make sure others are safe, people who will never even know what he sacrifices for them. I don’t see that as a bad man,  Dean. I see a man who deserves more than he will ever believe he does, and if you will let me, I want to be the one to prove it to you. You’re an amazing man, Dean. Please stop selling yourself short of what you want, and especially what you deserve. And that Dean Winchester is the world, and I want to give that to you.”

“I can’t, Y/N. I can’t. What if something happened to you because you were with me? What if my nightmares come true?” he choked on his words, the thought of losing her bringing tears to his eyes. 

“Is that what you dreamt? That something happened to me?” she asked softly, placing her hand back on his cheek. He nodded as he leaned into her touch, finally allowing himself to feel and enjoy how her palm held him just right as a tear finally escaped and rolled down his face. 

“That’s why I can’t. I couldn’t make it if something happened to you.” 

“Dean, something could happen to me going to the grocery store, a hunt, or I could slip and crack my head open taking a shower,” she chuckled. 

“That’s not funny,” he grumbled, turning further into her touch. 

“It’s the truth. Anything could happen to either of us at any time. So, why would you let that stop us from having what we want? Why not enjoy what time we do have together?” 

“I don’t know how to be in a relationship, Y/N. The one time I tried, it blew up in my face.” 

“Then how about we learn together? We’ll take it slow. Learn how to let go of our fears, the things we can’t change, and love each other the way that works for us,” she smiled, leaning in to gauge his reaction, and when he didn’t pull away, she pressed her lips to his in a gentle kiss. A kiss to let him know that she was and would always be there and would take care of him how he deserved to be. 

And that night would be the beginning of something wonderful that he had never thought he could ever have. A relationship with a woman who loved him for him and accepted him and all his flaws. Over time, she had done what he thought was impossible. She had broken through and shattered the walls he had around what he thought was a heart of stone. 

@flamencodiva @foxyjwls007 @valsworldofcreativity @hardcoresupernaturalfans @msmarvelouswinchester @lyarr24 @akshi8278 @hobby27 @supernatural-love14 @vicmc624 @squirrelnotsam @tatted-trina6 @xhannahbananax03 @coffeebooksandfandom @deans-baby-momma @lovelyrocker @fablesrose @maralisa124 @aimee-ginge @donnaintx @screechingartisancashbailiff @itsdesiree86 @kyjey @roxytheimmortal @briagallen @aubageddon91 @stoneyggirl2 @kitkatd7 @brilovesdeanwinchester @allonsy-yesiwill @krazykelly @rebelemilu @sarahbaker2010 @tyferbebe @metalfangirl @redbarn1995 @thoughts-and-funnies @izzathequeen @heavensangel45135 @entersand-man @supraveng @bobbie3939 @pink-sparkly-witch @thelastpyle @nancymcl @samsgirl93​​​ @maliburenee​​ @marvelouslyme96​​ @senjoritanana

[spnfanficpond]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dean Winchester/Reader, Dean Winchester/You, Sam Winchester/Reader, Sam Winchester/You Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Reader Additional Tags: takes place in earlier seasons, back when sam had semi short hair, Fluff, Slice of Life, Reader-Insert Series: Part 3 of Supernatural Works Summary:

It's late, and you find yourself thinking about life on the road as you know it

[mxltifxnd0m]

cute glasses ◦◦ d. winchester

summary: your eyes are dry because of your contacts, so you have no choice but to put your glasses on

pairings: established dean winchester x reader, dean winchester x gn! reader

word count: 1.3K

warnings: none really, no use of 'y/n', major fluff, some insecure thoughts, but mainly fluff

a/n: first official fic for dean!! also this was intentionally written as a blurb but as always, it seems i have more write than intended lol

please reblog and comment, i love to see your thoughts!

𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You had to fight the temptation to rub your eyes as you stared hard at your laptop, the screen emitting a blue light that was beginning to give you a headache alongside the dryness of your contacts as you sat at the table in the motel room. You blinked hard multiple times, trying to bring moisture to your contacts and find some relief from the dryness, but nothing was working.

You were still dressed in the FBI garb you had put on in the morning when you and Dean were going to the station to gather information on the hunt the two of you were working. Sam would have joined the two of you, but he had come down with a cold, and Dean forced him to stay back at the bunker while the two of you would work the hunt.

You glanced at the alarm clock on the nightstand, seeing that 10 minutes had passed since Dean went out to get dinner for you two. You threw your head back with a groan, feeling the soreness in your shoulders as you sat down and hunched over your laptop, researching for hours on end.

You stood up from the seat and stretched out your limbs like a cat waking up from a nap and stalking over to your bag to grab your pajamas and glasses, and headed to the bathroom to take a quick shower and get comfortable.

You jumped into the shower and rinsed off the day. After showering, you took out the dry contacts that were irritating your eyes, put them back into their case, and let out a sigh of relief when you blinked, and moisture was restored to your eyes.

You put on your glasses and strolled back into the room to find Dean sitting at the table and pulling the food out of the takeout bag.

"Took you long enough, sweetheart. I got us Chinese since there was a place I saw when driving in an-" He stopped talking as you crossed the room to see what he ordered.

"And what?" You asked him, looking at him with furrowed brows as you took in Dean's stunned expression, his mouth agape as his eyes flickered around and all over your face.

"You have glasses." Dean pointed out, blinking slowly as if he couldn't believe what he was seeing.

You raised an eyebrow at him. "Uh, yeah I do."

"Since when?"

"Since I was a freshman in high school." You told him as casually as you could, not wanting to make a big deal out of you wearing glasses.

"How come I've never seen you with them on?" Dean asked you with knitted brows.

"Err…" You trailed off. You didn't really want the boys to know you had glasses since you could be considered a liability if anything were to happen to your contacts or glasses. But hey, you've managed this long hunting with them, and you haven't died yet because of them. You just didn't want the boys to look down on you because you had them, and they could potentially hinder you in hunts.

"I wear contacts, and I try to keep them in for as long as I can until I can get back to my room and put my glasses on." You finally explained with a sheepish smile as you rubbed the back of your neck.

Dean's face turned into one of realization. "Is that why I sometimes feel you slip out of bed and then come back a couple of minutes later?"

You felt your face flush with heat as you nodded in response. Dean chuckled lightly at your embarrassment and leaned in to kiss your forehead. Then, a chaste peck on your lips before turning back to the food.

"You're not gonna ask me why I kept this from you?" You asked, confusion coloring your words as you saw him sit down in front of your closed laptop and dig into one of the takeout boxes with a plastic fork.

"Do you want me to?" Dean questioned through a mouthful of chow mein.

"Uh, not really. I was just ready for you to go all Spanish inquisition on me." You sat down across from him and looked through the takeout boxes before opening one of them to find the orange chicken.

Dean swallowed the food he was chewing. "Look, you had your reasons, and yeah, I have many questions about them but right now I just want to stare at you with them on."

You raised an eyebrow at him again. "You like them?"

"Yeah," He shrugged. "You look beautiful with or without them on." Dean reached across the table and traded chow mein for the orange chicken box in your hands.

You smiled at him, feeling your cheeks flush with heat again before huffing an amused breath through your nose. You narrowed your eyes at him as you leaned forward, taking Dean, who was still in his FBI suit, minus the jacket, tie, and a few of the buttons on his shirt unbuttoned.

"The glasses are doing something for you aren't they?" You teased him as you took a bite of the chow mein.

"Yeah, you have this sexy librarian thing going on. Could only imagine how much hotter you would have been if you left your FBI suit on." Dean's mouth pulled into a coy smirk, his green eyes alight with mischief and desire.

You chuckled as you shook your head. "Of course, you'd be into that."

Dean shrugged again as he popped a piece of orange chicken in his mouth.

Later, when the two of you finished eating and did a little more research and while you were doing your skincare, a sliver of worry still sat with you as you thought about how this would affect Dean and hunting. When you climbed into bed with Dean and placed your glasses on the nightstand, your world got a little blurry, but you could still see Dean's slight smile on his face as he pulled you into his side, wrapping an arm around your waist.

Dean pressed a warm kiss on your forehead. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" He asked lowly, his voice laced with care and fatigue.

"S'nothing." You shook your head.

"Come on, don't like seeing you like this before we go to bed." Dean squeezed your waist.

You sighed before propping your chin on his chest. "Just concerned that you might worry about me because of my bad eyesight."

Dean looked at you before leaning forward to press another kiss to your forehead and brought his hand to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against the soft skin. You leaned into his warm touch, pressing a kiss into his palm.

"I'm always going to worry about you," He started, pausing before finding his following words.

"But you've been hunting with your contacts and glasses for a long time before you met me, and you've been able to keep up with me and Sam without us knowing. I don't care that you have glasses or contacts because you're still a damn good hunter."

You smiled at his words before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against Dean's full lips. Dean kissed you just as softly as you pressed your lips against yours and chased your lips as you pulled away.

You rested your forehead against his. "Thank you." You whispered, your lips brushing against his as you did.

"No problem, sweetheart. Let's get to bed, we've got a bastard to hunt."

You chuckled softly at his words and pressed a quick kiss on his lips before settling beside him and melting into his side as you guys slowly fell asleep, finding that your dreams were filled with Dean's joyous laughter and playful kisses.

[cosmicanakin]

ꪆৎ LITTLE HELP GOES A LONG WAY.

੭୧ . . . dean winchester x female!reader.

ᯓ where you accidentally give dean a hard on during a hunt.

warning(s) sexual tension┆strong language┆sex innuendos┆implied smut. 𓇼 he's been running on my mind all day and i needed to let my thoughts run wild. so enjoy — you'll definitely thank me later! eighteen plus! adult content | minors do NOT interact.

★ next PART. satiated desire ﾉ dean winchester.

　✧⠀ ⠀⠀　𓈒　⠀⠀ ⠀૮₍ ´ ꒳ `₎ა⠀⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ꪆৎ masterlist.

the hunt had taken an unexpected turn, leaving you and dean pressed up against each other, your back flush against his chest. you shifted slightly, trying to get a better vantage point, when you felt dean's grip tighten on your hips, holding you in place.

"dean—" you began to ask, but the words died on your lips as you felt something hard pressing against you from behind. your eyes widened in realization, heat creeping up your face.

"shit, sweetheart, i'm so sorry," dean murmured, his voice strained. "i didn't mean for that to happen."

you whisper to dean in his ear, "we'll deal with this after the hunt, okay?"

he nodded mutely, your heart racing, already imagining ways to help him with his... situation. a small smile plays on your lips as he replied, "you're the best," he murmurs, hearing the mix of relief and anticipation in his voice.

"of course, dean. i've got you."

dean let out a shaky breath, his grip on your hips tightening ever so slightly.

with that, the two of you turned your focus back to the hunt, both eagerly awaiting the chance to properly address the growing tension between you.