#Dean/Reader

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Portato

Chapter Thirty Seven

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Pamela, Charlie, Jesse, Benny, Kevin and Sam

Word Count: ~3250 with other media

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, Tricia did read through the first scene, but all mistakes are still on me, Dean goes to confession, our reader's self esteem overrides all logic and prodding.

Series Masterlist

There have always been certain women in your life that you just didn’t click with. Some you wanted to, badly. Others you admired from afar, too shy or self conscious to really try to form any kind of bond, be it professional, educational or friendly. There were some you wanted nothing to do with. 

And then there was Pamela.

She was someone you had always admired, still slightly feared, but had resigned yourself to maintaining a simple and mildly judgemental, professional relationship. So when she woke you up, hungover and definitely disheveled as you were, on the bus to Phoenix, you were wary.

“Hey, sorry, but uh— could you come with me? Please?” She looked a little spooked and not exactly as apologetic as she sounded, but you nodded and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“What’s going on?” You said quietly, aware of all the other people around you as you shuffled after her to the actual bunk room in the back of the bus. Except no one back there was even asleep.

“Tell her what you told me. Or everything. Whatever comes last.” Pamela seemed pissed as she snapped at Dean and a sudden dread flooded your senses.

He sat on a bottom bunk, fingers rubbing over his lips in consideration as he glared at Pamela’s demands.

You knew something was up with the buddy system after the last show, but neither you nor Charlie had found anything substantial online. Which left in person or direct phone call threats. You’d been with the band long enough to have seen some shit, from overzealous fans to crazy ex’s and even a few stalkers. Benny’s team didn’t mess around when something had weight behind it. Outside of Vegas, you thought it was over.

By the look in Dean’s eyes, it was worse than you had guessed.

“Who died?” Was possibly the worst thing you could have said to Dean, by the journey his face went through.

He just gaped at you before Pamela dove back in.

“Wait— did someone actually die?”

“Will you let me speak for my damn self?! Christ, Pammy. Sorry, Trouble, this is not how I wanted you to find any of this out. Sit down.”

“Oh boy.”

There wasn’t any furniture back there and it felt oddly intimate to sit next to Dean on a borrowed bed like that. Every other bed was too far away. Instead, you slinked down to the floor and popped your knees up in front of you, like a child during circle time, but with something to hold onto.

“What’s going on? Is this about that guy outside of Wednesday’s show?”

“Kind of.”

Pamela exhaled and uncrossed her arms. “I’m gonna go– I don’t think I’m needed and it’s just gonna rile me up if I hear it all over again. But I’ll be up front if either of you need me, got it?”

“Good call— and, uh, thanks.” Dean looked up at her. Pamela nodded and left you and Dean alone.

The air grew thick and you had to get something off your chest before Dean got into whatever had Pamela so on edge. “Are you okay?”

Dean sighed and picked at the seam of his jeans. “I thought I was, you know? I’ve been putting in the work, but being back there, and then seeing Alastair— Having Cain at the fucking show. Really messed with my head.”

“Who are they?”

“Well, you’ve heard about Cain, Cain Charles. I used to box at his gyms all the time.”

You nodded into the pretzel of your arms.

“Well, I wasn’t really boxing— not most of the time. I was fighting in underground MMA type bouts. And Alastair, the slimy looking dude outside the first show? He was my trainer.”

Dean let that sit, but it didn’t take long for the pieces to start to fall together.

“The bruises— I remember how you were always hurt or stiff all the time.”

“Yeah, don’t miss that one bit either.” Dean rested his elbows on his knees and looked down at you, hunched as if he’s expected to get yelled at.

“So, what do they want? Why’s Benny got the guys on high alert?”

“Me.”

It was almost comical the way your mind looped around that simple word. Lots of people wanted Dean. And you couldn’t blame them, but those connotations didn’t quite fit the conversation so far.

“For what?”

“Back in the ring, at their beck and call, probably licking their boots while I’m at it.”

You straightened up, urgency starting to get the better of you. “Dean, I need more information here. Were you, like, an indentured servant? Do you owe them money? Why are they after you for real?”

“No, I, uh— I was there willingly. Started off with a fight at a club and when one of the goons came over to break it up, the guy didn’t kick me out. Instead he gave me a card, told me I had ‘promise’.”

“So you just decided one day to be a cage fighter? Being a rockstar wasn’t enough or something?” You balked, trying to figure out what drove Dean to that place. 

“Look, I’m not perfect, okay? And neither are you, so please, let me explain myself a little?”

You folded back in on yourself. “Yeah, of course, sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that— just give me the benefit of the doubt here, at least in the beginning.”

You twisted your fingers in front of your lips and tossed an imaginary key behind your back. Dean huffed out a laugh and cleared his throat.

“So, uh, do you remember before the fourth album we were kind of burnt out and Pamela and Lee were going through the last divorce and Bobby was kind of still AWOL because he’d just gotten married himself and Sam was fine by then and Adam was getting all those scholarships and shit?”

“You’re talking, like, almost back to the summer before the shit with Cas, right?”

  “There abouts, yeah.”

“Okay, vaguely. I remember being busy, Zacarriah had just been promoted and he was doing a lot of poking around. So I wasn’t doing much with you guys in person— since it was between tours.”

“Yeah, makes sense. Charlie and I played a lot of Call of Duty that break.”

“Okay?”

“I just— I was low. And then, finally, we got back into the studio and I could do something, be useful. I was able to sort of bury the darkness.”

“But it didn’t go away?”

Dean shook his head.

“Fast forward and I get this mafia-looking dude telling me I was worth more than just what my dad wanted me to be.”

“Dean—”

“It’s okay. I’ve been over that with Missouri too, just sayin’ why it was such a compliment.”

 Dean rubbed his palms against each other and kind of looked behind you as he kept talking. “So I checked it out, the fights were underground but not, like, dirty. I mean, they fought dirty as hell, but I didn’t feel like I was getting an STD just by walking in.”

“Okay, so you’re no Tyler Durden. What made you stay?”

Dean rolled his eyes.

“The rush of a fight. And you know— I’m hard up for praise— it’s why I love the spotlight and the fans. But it wasn’t like it is with the band. I didn’t even have to work as hard at it as I do with the music— it was only me up there. I didn’t have to answer to anybody else. It was just my hands and the other guys’ that I had to worry about. No harmonies, no compromises. It was easy. And I thought it made me free.”

Dean didn’t meet your eyes, he looked at the wall behind you or the floor. You had never seen him so ashamed, or so outright confessional.

 You inched forward, the need to comfort him tingled along your arms and into your useless hands. “What made you stop? Besides the last tour, obviously, you couldn’t be in two places at once.”

“Uh, so, Cas must have been following me because there was one night where it got really bad. I got really bad— just pummeled a guy to the mat. They— there’s not really refs, more like bouncers to hold back the crowds. But it took three of them to haul my ass to the showers. Cain has doctors on retainer, nobody was gonna call an ambulance and rat the place out. But, he wasn’t moving the last time I got a look at him.”

Dean looked up and into your eyes.

“I still don’t know if that guy is okay or anything. That was my last fight before we hit the road. And Cas called me out, eventually. Let me stew with the unknown and the guilt for a good month first. I didn’t know he needed me. He had his own shit with the kid and stuff then. I just thought— I don’t know. Anyway, you probably got a good handle on what happened after that.”

“So, they’re blackmailing you? Cain and Allistair?”

“Alastair.”

“Him.”

“No, but they’re watching you. They know— they know everyone I care about. Cain thinks I’m letting you guys save me from my true nature. He’s big on instinct and fight or flight crap. But he’s very logical about it all. Alastair—,” Dean blew out the breath he had been holding and dropped onto the floor in front of you, back against the drawers beneath the beds. “He’s a fucking sadist. He wants people to hurt, it’s not just about power—- it’s torture.”

You swallowed. “Don’t you think we need to go to the authorities? They sound dangerous. Really dangerous.”

Dean shook his head. “That’s not an option. Cain is too good, his business is airtight. Nobody talks or walks away. That’s why he’s so insistent. He thinks he can bring me back.”

You didn’t want to know, but you needed to know, so you asked, “do you— would you?”

“No. Not anymore. I’ve come too far. There’s days when I think about it. When it would be easier to just be the beast again. But I’ve got too much to lose. I have the band family, Charlie, Gibson, you—- So no, Trouble, I ain’t going back.”

You smiled at him, softly, not really letting him see how that sent your face burning with all the worry still hanging in the air.

“How can I help? Do I need to enlist Charlie and get our devices better hidden? Change reservations to keep people off our trail? The tour is set, we can’t cancel any dates—- but we can be more careful.”

“Uh, wow, I guess check in with Bobby and Benny? They’re already on top of things, but more eyes on it couldn’t hurt. I— is there anything you want to know? I feel like you’re taking this really well. Like instant problem solving mode. Not even flinching over what— the things I did.”

Dean leveled you with an unimpressed glare and cleared his throat. “Hit me. I can take it.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes as you resituated your legs and propped yourself up on your right hand. “It’s a lot, you know? We knew you were struggling. And we all had been on the receiving end of your temper enough to know not to poke the bear.---- But, I guess, it’s nice knowing, for sure. Like there was something there—- Someones there holding you back, keeping you from us. I’m sorry you had to go through that all alone.”

Dean bumped your knee with his. “Don’t need your pity. But, maybe, your forgiveness. Because I was fucking rotten to you—- more than once.”

“You sure were.” You looked him dead on.

“You’re a part of this band. Whether we say it or not. Even Kevin knows you’re in charge.”

“Pam’s in charge, she just lets everyone run things,” you quipped, an old Bobby line.

Dean chuckled. “Fine. But I am sorry for the things I called you. And how much I leaned on you after Sam and Bobby pulled my head out of my ass.”

“Don’t be.” Dean gave you a face. “Okay, the first part, yes. Be. But the after– that was— it meant a lot. It gave me something to look forward to. Made me feel like I was doing actual friend things instead of work things. Kind of miss the calls— the check-ins. It was a good part of my routine.”

“Yeah, me too.” He sounded so soft, like a favorite blanket waiting for you on the back of the couch. He was right there spilling his guts out and all you wanted to do was crawl into his lap and tell him it was going to be alright. 

You stayed put.

“Thank you— you’ve been— Christ, I couldn’t have done this without you, you know? You pulled me through— in so many ways.”

“Of course. You’d do the same for any one of us. Hell, you did it for Sam more times than I can count.”

“Yeah, but he’s my kid brother. It’s not the same.”

You hummed. “Yeah, but still. Anytime.”

“Hopefully not too soon.”

You huffed a laugh. “Agreed.”

You stretched and sat up on your knees, groaning at being on the floor for so long. “Okay— well, we’ve got like an hour before we get to the hotel. Do you need anything from me before we get to our rooms?”

Dean shook his head and stood up, quickly leaning down to help you the rest of the way. “I should be good, but yeah, check with Benny for the details. And, please, just watch out for Donna and the girls? They’ll be guarded, but I don’t want them thinking we’re neglecting them while we circle the wagons for our own.”

“On it.”

Dean put his hand on the ball of your shoulder and squeezed. You cupped his forearm and caught his weighted stare. It was like he was looking for something behind your eyes, or something there confused him, but either way he didn’t mention it. Instead, he just squeezed your arm again, gave you a guilty smile, and headed back to the front of the bus.

Charlie was invested in Operation Anti-Fight Club, her words not yours. Once you explained, very briefly, what had been going on, she immediately fell into a rabbit hole online. You even had to drag her out of her hotel room to get her to the venue in time for rehearsal the next morning in preparation for the Phoenix show. 

Somehow, she got sound and lights set up with a new venue in what felt like a flash, but was really two hours of back and forth with the band setting up cues and verifying the setlist. 

So when she started texting you during SPS’ set that night, about your conversation with Dean, you were a little worried she was distracted again.

You didn’t reply. From the moment you told her about Dean’s little heart-to-heart she had been asking leading questions and giving you knowing looks. Too worried she was either teasing you or getting your hopes up over nothing, you tried not to overthink it. Sure, Dean had broken things off with Bela with someone in mind. And it maybe, kinda, sorta seemed like he was waiting for you to do something before he left the bunkroom yesterday. But you could have been reading it all wrong. 

It was an emotional conversation.

It didn’t mean he wanted to kiss you.

Right?

Right.

Except now all you could think about was New Year’s. And how you wished you were sober enough to really remember what Dean’s lips felt like against yours.

You had never let yourself want him, not truly. You couldn’t help loving him, you were only human. But admitting to yourself that you wanted him and wanted him to want you back was a death sentence. There was no hope after that. There was not a chance Dean Winchester could be with you, or even someone like you. 

So why were you letting yourself think about it now?

You weren’t, you decided, and made small talk with Jesse instead. 

“You excited to get some days off at home next week?”

“You know it. I miss ridin’, miss sleepin’ somewhere far enough out, the city lights don’t keep me up.”

You smiled and nodded, you grew up somewhere close enough to the country to know what he meant. “Well, one of these days you’ll have to let us swing by. I’d love to see your land.”

The hulking man looked so fond as he reasoned out an uncertain invitation, “well, Matty keeps the place running while we’re on the road, so I’ll have to ask him how’s it all looking for the whole band to swing by for an afternoon. If not this trip, definitely after the tour.”

“Fine! But I won’t forget you said that.”

He chuckled. “Of course you wouldn’t.”

You turned back to the stage as Jodi wailed on their cover of ‘Crazy on You’. Donna was front and center giving it her all. You were once again mesmerized by their talent. Some people were just unreal, having both beauty and brains, strength and kindness. That old, familiar hollowness inched up your throat and twinged the corners of your eyes. You were surrounded by amazing people and all you could do was hover in their shadows. You were a supporting character, you could never exist at that level.

You were a fool to think you ever could.

SPS was phenomenal and they finished their set to whistles and cheers from both the fans and those of you in the wings. They beamed as they marched off stage, heading back to the dressing rooms for a breather before the main event. You cheered them on, knowing you were doing a bad job of masking the way your thoughts had plummeted. Luckily for you, Jesse was a professional and he said nothing as he ducked away to help with PT’s set up.

You rolled your eyes and punched out an annoyed ‘fine’ in the chat. You didn’t want to think about Dean singing about somebody at that moment. What you wanted was a stiff drink and maybe a foot massage. You thought about pulling up your hotel’s amenities, but were caught off guard by Sam and Kevin bellowing your name like a pair of foghorns.

“TROUBBBBBLLLLLLEEEEEE.”

“TRRRRRRRRRRROUBLLE!”

You turned while still looking down at your phone. “Uh, what’s up?” 

But as you glanced up, you got silly string-ed straight to the face. 

“MOTHER FUCKERS!” That had you spitting out air because the foamy substance had grazed your lips. Yuck! With one eye open you charged the overgrown idiots, forcing them to run behind the closest obstacles, gear cases and Benny, respectively.

Benny muttered over his shoulder to a crouching Kevin, “it’s your funeral, cher.”

“Thanks, Benny,” you huffed out as you dodged around the head of security and almost had a hand on Kevin’s collar. “You little shit!”

Kevin cackled as he ran away, too worried about busting your shit in your concert heels, you watched him go. Sam was smart enough to leave quietly amongst the fray, but you promised yourself some revenge down the line. You even knew who you could enlist for help, the last person they would ever expect…

Tagging:

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[impala-dreamer]

Legendary & Momentary

A Supernatural Story

~Two strangers meet again; two memories collide. Will things be different this time? Will there be more to their story or just a long overdue kiss goodbye?~

Dean x Reader, Sam, OMC  

5,356 Words

NSFW. Show-Level Violence and Blood. Intimate Relations. Angst. Bittersweet Romance.

This fills "The Night They Met" square on @jacklesversebingo, and "First Time" on my Dreamer Bingo... hope you enjoy

JacklesBingo Masterlist

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The bell chimed above the old red door and Y/N looked up from the counter.

She was filthy and tired. Her apron was covered in the greasy remnants from the lunch rush and her jeans were stained by a spilled cup of lukewarm coffee that she never got to drink. She pressed the tip of her pen to Mr. Taylor’s check and tried to finish calculating the tax when she saw him.

He walked through the door like no time had passed.

His hair was still stuck up in that familiar way that made it seem like he ran his hand through it constantly. His jeans were still ripped even though they fit a little bit tighter. The leather jacket was gone and his face held a few more lines than she remembered, but there was no doubt in her mind that it was him.

Dean Winchester.

Her breath caught and the pen moved across the thin green paper all on its own, leaving behind a smudged blue line.

“Shit!”

He didn’t look over, didn’t see her staring in awe.

Quickly, she tallied up the total and ripped the paper free. Mr. Taylor was still working on his tenth cup of coffee and she tucked the bill beneath the stainless steel creamer cup.

“Whenever you’re ready,” she said with a distracted smile.

Dean scanned the small diner and paused on her face. He smiled passively and pointed to a booth by the window.

Startled and a little hurt by the lack of recognition in his eyes, Y/N simply nodded.

“Be- uh-” She cleared her throat and took a breath. “Be right there!”

Dean waved a hand her way as he slid into the long bench seat. “Take your time, Sweetheart.” The vinyl crackled and the springs creaked beneath him as he settled in the middle and set his elbows on the table. He clasped his hands as if in prayer and pressed his forehead to his knuckles.

Y/N tried not to stare but it was hard to blink, hard to move, hard to do anything but gawk at the man she’d once loved.

OK, maybe it wasn’t love, but it was something legendary.

At least to her.

She was freezing and terrified; lost to the daylight and trapped in some unholy hell. The rough ropes around her wrists were too tight, ripping at her delicate skin each time she dared to move. The turn of her shoulders was harsh. It kept her arms locked behind the back of the hard wooden chair and it was enough to send pins down to her fingers, numbing everything from joint to tip. The beer-soaked rag jammed into her mouth made it hard to breathe, scream, or even stay conscious.

Only four hours had passed but it felt like twenty.

Two other girls had gone before her, ripped from their seats by hungry hands and blood-stained lips that dragged them off into the shadows of the empty building. She didn’t know where they went, only that they didn’t return. Their screams echoed until they failed, fading from pained, wordless pleas to the pale final moans before death.

She was the only one left.

She chewed on the rag, pushed at it with her tired tongue, and shook her head furiously, trying anything to get free. The cursed fabric mocked her like a stripped screw, moving only enough to give her hope and no more.

She kicked at the floor, pushing down as hard and tipping the chair. She braced herself as best she could, tensing her body inwards as the cold, filthy concrete floor accepted her left side. Her head bounced off the stone and bright lights popped like camera flashes around the edges of her vision. She felt her stomach turn with pain and then there was nothing. The cold wrapped itself around her and the shadows drew in close, swallowing her whole.

Time passed around her but Y/N was out cold. She dreamt of the bar, of that stupid jerk who’d caught her eye and danced so close. Of the smell of his cologne, of the drugs he’d tipped into her drink. She felt his lips again, sliding from her mouth to her cheek and down, lingering over her pulse to suck a painful little mark on her throat. She felt his hand on her cheek, holding her hostage to his lust.

Another hand hit her cheek, tapping gently, and Y/N blinked into the darkness, focusing finally on a pair of unbelievable green eyes. They reminded her of a thriving forest of deep evergreens lit by the golden rays of sunrise. She smiled.

“Good. You’re alive.”

The eyes came with a face that pulled back a few inches and captivated her addled mind. Freckles. Lashes. Crooked nose. Plump lips.

She shook her head. “What?”

“You gotta get up.”

Y/N’s gaze narrowed. “Who are you?”

A half smile, a tiny laugh. “I’m Dean.” He lifted her head, gently cradling the wound on her temple. He leaned in, glancing at each of her eyes, gauging the damage. “Can you tell me your name?”

She nodded and swallowed, clearing her throat. “Y/N.”

Dean smiled again. “Good. Nice to meet you.”

In a flash, she was sitting up again as he placed the chair back on four legs. Her bones rattled as wood hit concrete and her vision wavered.

“What’s going on- who are you?” she said again, not remembering his name or finding it a suitable response.

Nimble fingers worked on the knot at her wrist. “My name’s Dean Winchester.” When the ropes fell, he rushed around to help her up, extending a big hand. “And I’m here to rescue you.”

He beamed with pride and she laughed softly.

“You’ve always wanted to say that, haven’t you?”

Dean bit his lip and shrugged. “Can you blame me?”

Her hand slipped into his palm and warmth ran up her arm, filling her with a sense of safety she couldn’t fully understand.

“I guess not.”

“Can you stand?” he asked, closing his fingers. They were so long they nearly eclipsed her entire hand.

Y/N drew herself up and took a steadying breath. “I think so.”

Something fell in the distance. Metal crashed. Glass shattered. A deep roar filled the air, growing louder by the second.

“Good,” Dean said, gripping her tighter. “Because now we gotta run.”

Sam waltzed in like he owned the place, his long hair whipping in the wind he created when he threw the door open.

With a cocky nod at the waitress, he threw himself onto the dull red vinyl across from Dean and slapped his hand on the table, startling his brother.

“You sleeping?”

Dean sneered and dropped his hands into his lap. “No. I’m thinking.”

Sam chuckled. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

“Ya know-” Dean bit his tongue and shook his head, refusing to get into it. He was road-weary and exhausted, ready for a burger and a bed and nothing more. “Whatever. What did you find out?”

“Well…” Sam pulled his phone from his jacket pocket and swiped a finger across the screen. “Did some digging at the rectory and Father-”

“The where?”

Dean grinned like an idiot and Sam rolled his eyes.

“The rectory.”

Clearing his throat in subtle reprimand, Sam carried on, expounding upon the history of some priest who had died in the town in 19-something-or-other. Dean couldn’t pay attention. The waitress behind the counter had caught his eye and his brain was working in overdrive. There was something about her that was pulling him in. Something familiar and slightly painful that he couldn’t put his finger on.

She was pretty. Her hair was tied back in a messy ponytail, her face was dabbed with what he hoped was flour, and she wore a tight navy tee that showed off curves that could drive any soul mad. There was a softness to her that broke his heart, a kindness that lit her energy. When she smiled, he could tell that it wasn’t real, wasn’t completely true. She knew things that other people didn’t, things that would invoke Lovecraftian nightmares in most, and yet, she kept herself busy in a diner in a little town in the middle of nowhere. He could see it in her eyes. It was a look you couldn’t lose once you knew the truth about the world.

It was a look he knew all too well. One that he saw in the mirror every morning.

She turned toward him with two plastic-covered menus under her arm and a pot of coffee in hand.

When their eyes met she froze. Dean could see her take a deep breath and he stared as her face etched itself in his memory banks.

His heart ached.

Y/N.

He couldn’t believe it. After all these years, there she was- just as beautiful, just as soft and enticing. He bit down hard into his bottom lip and let the film in his mind play.

“Where are we going?” Y/N was panting; desperate to keep up but exhausted from her torturous night. Dried blood caked her throat and fresh release bubbled like a thick ooze on the side of her head. Her skin was paling; her eyes were blurry.

Her hand felt so small against his and he squeezed it hard, refusing to let go. Twice, she’d stumbled next to him, and twice, Dean had scooped her up, unwilling to lose another victim to his own weakness and the monsters of the world.

Dean stopped for a moment and looked around. They were in a labyrinth of rooms deep inside a derelict factory with little light to guide them and no way to remember every twist and turn as they ran through.

“Uh… out,” he said, unsure but afraid to say so.

Y/N tugged on his hand and made him look at her. “Out?”

“Yeah. Out. We’re getting out of here!” His brow creased and his lips fell into a straight line. He was worried.

She shivered. “How?”

He looked around again, forgetting which way they had come from. “I… I don’t know yet.”

“Great.” Frustrated and close to passing out again, Y/N dropped his hand and spun around. “What is happening?”

Dean winced. He could hear the breakdown in her voice. That moment everyone went through when they figured out the worst day of their life was about to get way worse. He sighed and watched her spin out, sad for her but unable to do much until she worked through it.

“I go out for a few drinks and-” She closed her eyes tight as the night washed over her. “That guy- he fucking-” Her hands flew to her head. “He must have drugged me and then… he was…” Her right hand slid down to her throat, gingerly dabbing at the two tiny holes below her jaw. She pulled back and looked down at the flakes of blood that clung to her fingertips. “He-”

Dean watched her shoulders tense, her breath quicken. She shook her head.

“No. No. No fucking way. That’s not possible! It’s not- he wasn’t-”

He cleared his throat and crossed his arms, waiting patiently.

“Go on,” he urged gently.

“And the others- the redhead and the bartender they-”

“Mhm…” Dean shook his head slowly. He had found their bodies a few moments before stumbling upon Y/N.

“They’re dead.” Y/N grabbed her stomach as if she might puke. “They’re dead because-”

“Almost there…”

“Because that guy…”

Dean leaned in, slightly amused by the gears he imagined turning in her head. “Was a…”

Y/N’s frame went limp and her soul seemed to drop. “Vampire.”

Dean snapped his fingers. “There it is. Good job.” He moved forward to take her hand once more but Y/N flinched away.

“No! This cannot be happening!”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m sorry but it is. That guy from the bar is a bloodsucking asshole and he’s coming to finish you off. That is, if you don’t let me get you outta here.” Again, he reached for her hand, and this time she let him have it, squeezing tight.

She gaped up at him. “A vampire.”

“Yeah.”

Her eyes went wide as she stared off over his shoulder. “A vampire.”

Dean sighed. “I know this is hard to deal with but-”

Y/N yanked his arm hard and tugged him closer, frantically pointing with the other hand. “No! A vampire. Behind you!”

The moment stretched out between them like contrails, visible but nothing, there then gone, fading into the atmosphere.

Y/N stared into the green eyes that so often haunted her dreams. Those eyes she saw when nightmares overtook her evenings or when she turned her mind back to lovers past. The eyes she spent too long praying would sweep over her face just one more time.

Her cheeks burned. Her heart skipped a beat and then another until a pain in her chest made her take a deep breath.

He recognized her. She knew it in the way his lips parted slightly with surprise, the way he blinked a few too many times to clear his vision lest she be a phantom.

She smiled softly and he returned it, dipping down so he could look up through impossibly thick lashes and break her heart all over again.

Dean swung and the vampire ducked, springing back up to swat at Dean as if he were an irritating insect and nothing more.

The way he spun around was impressive. Y/N stared in awe as Dean turned on his heel and pulled a long blade from beneath his leather jacket. It was like watching an action movie. The slow-motion was in her head, but the sound effects were real and so was the machete.

“You murdered my husband!” the man yelled, his deep voice bellowing through the empty room.

Dean looked up from the ground and touched the back of his hand to the corner of his mouth, dabbing at the cut and fresh crimson leaking free. “Husband, huh?” He laughed and rolled to his knees. “Didn’t think this town had much of a gay scene.”

The vampire sneered, revealing a mouth of vicious teeth. He growled and Dean popped up onto his boots, charging forward again.

Y/N felt as if her feet were glued to the cement, encased in fear and indecision.

She should run, that much she knew, but something held her there. Something told her that running was pointless. If she was going down, she’d go with a fight.

When Dean next hit the floor, the vampire turned his gaze upon Y/N and her stomach flipped. Her feet magically moved and she rushed forward as if puppeted by some Hollywood stuntman. She landed a punch, but it was mocked by a deep, blood-thick laugh and a return that knocked her to her knees.

“Y/N! Just run!” Dean was valiant, coming up behind the monster with tight fists and a shining blade.

“I’m not leaving you!” she yelled back. She meant it, but the justification was blurry. She didn’t know him, didn’t really owe him anything. What was keeping her from running away like a spring doe being stalked by a hunter?

In the brief moment when Dean looked at her, the upper hand was lost. The sweet smirk was knocked off of his freckled face and he hit the floor in a painful crash of flesh and denim.

Moved by some fateful force, the machete slid across the floor and landed at Y/N’s feet.

Her eyes narrowed on Dean who could barely lift his head as cartoon birds circled in his vision. She took a deep breath, squared her shoulders, and lifted the blade, holding it tight. Her knuckles turned white with the force and she reared back, ready to strike.

From the ground, Dean watched her attack. “Neck! Go for the neck!”

Feeling a step away from superhero status, Y/N swung with all the force left in her body. She closed her eyes as the sharp edge found its target and nearly retched when it slid through flesh.

The vampire roared in annoyance rather than pain. Y/N peeked an eye open to discover that the machete had made contact, but not much more, only penetrating about an inch into the vampire’s neck. She grimaced and yanked the handle, pulling the blade free.

Blood shot from the wound and Y/N gagged at the garnet fountain.

“I’m sorry!” she screamed, not sure to whom. If the vampire wasn’t pissed enough already, he was sure to rip her to shreds now.

As the fiend stumbled, Dean regained his wind and appeared at Y/N’s side.

“Takes a bit more force than you might think,” he said with a reassuring wink as he took the blade from her hand. “Gotta put your whole ass into it.”

Y/N hung back and stared while Dean demonstrated.

The vampire’s head rolled free from its pedestal and landed at her feet just like the machete had.

She swallowed hard. “I’m gonna throw up.”

Dean stood over the collapsed corpse and wiped the blade on his jeans. “Yeah, but you learned something.”

“Yeah,” she laughed, in shock and exhausted. “That the world is fucked.”

“Mhm.” Dean grinned and hopped over the body to stand by her side. “And what else?”

“Never half-ass a beheading?”

“Yep!” His wink was breathtaking. Even covered in blood and bruised, he was stunningly handsome and Y/N held her breath for a long moment.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Take me home before I lose my mind…”

He couldn’t help but stare. It was almost unbelievable that she was there. After a decade, how was it that they randomly found each other again? Had she always been here, waiting tables and waiting on him? Did some turn of fate drag them together again?

Y/N exhaled gently and Dean sucked it in, breathing in the sweet air around her: coffee and french fries, and a hint of apple shampoo.

Time slowed down for them both and caught in its warm embrace, there was no other vision but the gentle smile on her lips, no other sound but the sigh she let loose.

Sam broke the trance, clearing his throat and starting the clock again. The earth seemed to lurch forward and Dean felt a pit in his stomach.

“Um, yeah, hi.” Sam looked up at Y/N, trying to remain kind but annoyed to be interrupted.

Y/N jumped back into herself and set the menus down unceremoniously. “Hi.”

Her eyes never left Dean and Sam wasn’t thrilled. He rolled his eyes and turned over the ceramic coffee cup next to the napkin holder before tapping the edge.

“Coffee. Please?”

Dean wanted to kick him, to castrate his rude brother with a switch shot under the table, but he held back, content to get lost in the memory of her.

“Sure.” She shook herself and smiled at Sam. “Sorry.”

“You don’t have to stand in the hall, Dean,” she said with a small laugh.

Y/N ripped her keys from the apartment door and stepped inside. The lamps on either side of a lumpy purple couch were on and the small living area was bright. She sighed, happy to be home, and then gestured for Dean to enter.

He nodded with a smile and ducked his head as he stepped in, as if unsure of the height of the ceiling.

“Someone else home?”

She squinted in confusion. “No?”

“Ah. You left the lights on,” he observed, pointing at the lamps. They didn’t match and the shades were dusty, but it added to the effect, casting a soft light on a room full of hometown memories and highschool dreams lost long ago.

Y/N toed her shoes off and shrugged. “I keep them on so the bad guys think I’m home. Guess I should have realized that bad guys are outside too, huh?” Her focus faded as she spoke and her fingers pressed into the wound at her neck. “Is- is this all real?”

Dean chewed his bottom lip and sighed. “Unfortunately.”

“How do I- you- I mean… how am I supposed to deal with this?”

Green eyes swept her pretty face. He felt sad for her, but knew she’d be able to handle it. She was strong. Not strong enough to gank a vamp, but not bad enough for a first try.

“Well,” he said, pursing his lips to hide a sly smile. “I drink…”

Y/N smiled. “That I can do.”

She fetched too cold, brown bottles from the tiny fridge. Dean popped the caps free with a flick of his ring and Y/N stared at him in wonder. He was a mess. His jacket was too big, his jeans were ripped and falling down. Blood was smeared on his face and his hands were filthy. Still, he was cute. More than cute, if she was being honest, and she felt her face heat up whenever he looked at her for longer than a fleeting second.

He cleared his throat. “Here’s to not being dead.”

Dean raised his bottle and she tapped hers against it.

“Here, here.”

The necklace around his neck was twisted, and Y/N reached up to fix it, gently turning the cord until the knot was back in place against the nape of his neck. Her fingertips brushed through the short hairs on his neck and Dean sucked in a deep breath of her.

“Apples,” he whispered, startling her.

Y/N blinked up at him. “What?”

“You uh-” He looked away, feeling shy, knowing his cheeks were red. “You smell like apples.”

“That’s my shampoo,” she explained, dragging her hand down his shoulders and across, making sure the small, bronze pendant was centered. “I’m surprised you can smell it, I’m covered in muck.”

“The blood just adds to it,” he teased.

Her palm pressed against his heart and Dean wondered if she could feel it pounding away inside. He wanted to reach for her, to push his hand through her hair and drag her close, kiss away the trauma of the night, and lay her down.

Y/N felt it too, that undeniable urge to press up on her toes and lick deep into his mouth, but nerves pulled her away.

She let out a hard breath and backed away.

“I should shower,” she said, turning away and shattering the moment.

Dean shifted on his feet and looked over his shoulder at the door. “Yeah, I should probably get going…”

“No!” Y/N gasped at her aggressive tone and laughed. “I mean, just- don’t? You can, um… shower after me. I’ll be quick. I just- I…” She looked down at her feet and bit her lip, innocent and alluring all at once. “I don’t wanna be alone right now.”

His heart ached. “OK. Yeah. I uh, I’ll stay.”

He should have run. Should have dropped her off and left. Why did he have to walk her to the door? Why did he have to step inside? Why didn’t he kiss her?

Y/N smiled. “Thank you, Dean.”

Y/N knew she was breathing heavily but she couldn’t control it. She tried to hold it as she filled the small white mug. The steam and her shaking hand made it hard to keep from spilling, but amazingly, she got through.

Dean was staring, she could feel it.

Was he going to say anything? Did she have to be the one?

Maybe he doesn’t remember. Maybe she got something wrong.

When she looked back, the green told her everything she needed to know.

Y/N took a long sip of her beer. “Honestly, if you traveled back in time to tell twelve-year-old me that vampires were real, she would have been ecstatic.”

Thirty minutes later, the entire room smelled like apples and they sat on the ugly purple couch together, clean and damp from the hot shower.

“And now?”

“Not so much.”

Dean laughed and drained his bottle. “I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but somehow, the more you know, the worst it gets.”

Y/N considered his words and took her last sip. “So this is your life? You run around saving damsels in distress and killing bloodsuckers like Buffy?”

“Buffy? No. I could kick Buffy’s ass.”

Y/N laughed. “Yeah, right…”

She leaned forward and took his bottle, placing it with hers on the coffee table. The big shirt she wore gaped at the neck and Dean tried his best not to look, only sneaking a quick peek.

He adjusted his own collar, tugging it away from his throat. Either he wasn’t breathing too well or the cotton was shrinking. “Thanks for the clothes by the way.”

Y/N sat back. “Of course. Couldn’t have you running around naked.”

His mouth went dry.

“They’re my brother’s, if you’re wondering.” She leaned back and hugged her arms around her chest. “There’s no… guy or anything.”

He had been wondering and now his thoughts ran amuck. “Ah. Cool.”

“And you? You got a girl back home… wherever home is?”

Dean smiled sadly and shook his head. Where the hell was home? “Nope. No girls. Just me…”

“That’s too bad…”

Her voice trailed off at the end in a sweet whisper that had him leaning a bit closer. The ends of the couch were too far apart, driving them both mad.

Y/N shivered suddenly and quickly rubbed the back of her arms.

“Cold?”

Dean’s voice was lush with concern and she smiled shyly.

“A little…”

He opened his arms and she scooted across the cushions to settle against him. He was warm and solid; so gentle when he reached his left arm over her shoulder. His fingers hovered as if afraid to land before gingerly falling to cover her arm.

She sucked in a breath at the touch and Dean stiffened.

“Is that OK?”

She bit her bottom lip and nodded. “Yeah.”

His grip tightened; his breath calmed.

Y/N curled into him and laid her hand on his chest. It was intimate and delicate but Dean didn’t flinch. He closed his eyes and turned into her, resting his chin atop her head. Warmth and shampoo filled his senses and he sighed, content for the first time in a long time.

There were no screeching tires or screaming victims; no geysers of blood, no singed flesh.

It was peaceful. It was incredible.

Her fingers curled, bunched up the fabric of the plain white t covering him. She cuddled closer, needing him to take all the pain and fear away, wanting him to know how much she wanted him.

“You saved my life today,” she said softly as her nails danced across the dip in his clavicle.

Dean’s brain clouded with desire and he exhaled through puckered lips, trying to stay calm.

“That’s my job.”

“Another hour and I’d be dead.”

His arm tensed on her shoulder, drawing her even closer. “I don’t wanna think about that.”

She looked up at him, pretty eyes dimmed with arousal. “Me either.”

Heart pounding, he took a chance and dipped down to kiss her lips. It was slow and soft, dangerously electric. His right hand found her cheek; his thumb brushed over her lashes.

“Is this OK?” he asked, still somehow unsure even as she kissed him back.

Her breath swept across his plump bottom lip. “Yes.”

She tugged at his shirt again and parted her lips, dragging in a deep breath of him. He kissed her a second time and her eyes fluttered as sparks ran down her spine. He sucked at her lip, licked deep inside, whispered her name like a prayer.

Y/N against him and he lost his mind, shifting in his seat to push her back and loom over her. His hand trailed down her side and across her belly before slowly moving upwards. He pressed the flat of his palm against her breast and Y/N arched up into it.

“This OK?”

She laughed inside a moan and nodded. “Yeah…”

His fingers closed and she melted.

“Fuck…”

Dean kissed across her jaw, blew a hot breath over the outer shell of her ear. She tugged at his shoulders, dug her nails into his smooth skin, held her breath as he plucked at her nipple.

She was dizzy on his kisses, drunk on the heat between them. When he slid his hand to her thigh she sucked in a quick breath that gave him pause.

“Is this OK?” he asked again.

Gently laughed at his nerves, Y/N grabbed his wrist and pressed his fingers against her damp panties. “Yes.”

He rubbed a firm circle over her covered pussy. “And this?”

She spread her legs and nodded. “Yes.”

Through the thin cotton, he pressed his middle finger against her hole. “This?”

She shuddered. “Fuck. Yes!”

“What about-”

She stopped him cold, sitting up to grab his neck and pull his lips back to hers.

“What about you fuck me, Dean.” She licked at his mouth and his eyes glazed over with desire. “Is that OK?”

Dumbstruck, he nodded blankly.

“Good.”

She winked and his fate was sealed.

His mind was reeling but his lips were failing him. Say something, you idiot!

He couldn’t move, couldn’t even blink lest she was a phantom and he had finally lost his mind.

They hung there in silence as the eons stretched out around them. It wasn’t slow motion, it was worse. Time had stopped entirely. There was only the two of them, existing in a void of remembrance and hope.

Exhausted and sated, they lay on the floor, catching their breaths and fighting sleep.

Y/N tugged a crocheted blanket off the arm of the couch and fanned it out to cover them both. Dean bent his arm and tucked the throw pillow under his head.

Y/N snuggled her back into his side and Dean draped his right arm over the perfect curve of her waist.

Her hand covered his; their fingers fit together like the gears of a watch.

A watch that he’d have to check soon.

As if she could sense their time running out, Y/N squeezed his arm tight around her and sighed.

“Stay? Just for the night?”

He swallowed down all the usual lies; pushed away his father’s condemning voice calling him back.

“Yeah.” He pressed a kiss into her hair and bent his knees behind hers. “For the night.”

A yawn shook her and Y/N’s eyes fluttered closed. She smiled and wiggled against him, safe and happy, at least for a moment.

“We should get some breakfast later,” she sang, half in the arms of sleep. “I’m starving.”

Dean closed his eyes and wished he could stay.

Y/N’s breathing slowed and Dean laid awake, focusing on each rise and fall of her chest. He looked around the small room and wondered if he could ever really stay. Was there a chance here? A chance with her? Some magical new life waiting for him if he just took a leap of faith? Could she be the place he could finally call home?

No. It could never be. She wasn’t some ethereal beauty sent by God to tempt him away from his life. She was just a distraction. A beautiful, intoxicating distraction. And no matter what he felt in that moment, he knew it wasn’t love, it was comfort. It wasn’t forever, only momentary.

He was gone before the sun rose.

Sam reached for a menu and pursed his lips at the slow service.

Y/N blinked to clear her head. She took a breath and smiled kindly at Dean.

“And what about you? Can I get you anything?”

Her voice rang through him like a church bell, calling him back home. Maybe there was a reason they chose this case, in this part of the country, in this sleepy town.

Dean smiled and took a leap.

“I don’t know but… I think I owe you breakfast…”

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[my-proof-is-you]

I Know Places

POV: it’s you and Dean against the world.

They can take their shots

We’re bulletproof

And I know for me

It’s always you

In the dead of night

Your eyes so green

And I know for you

It’s always me

I know places we can hide

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

“Don’t Provoke Dean”

Chapter 2

She had no idea where she was going, but her Omega told her to run hard from the pack leader. She knew she was faster than him, which meant he had to be smart or wait for her to get tired. She huffed, losing her jacket, she scented the air, searching for water. She moved around trees, avoiding bushes to prevent leaving her scent. Her human mind, still somewhat alert, began to question if she wanted to be caught.

She knew how she felt about him but was uncertain of his current intention. She was scared she pushed him too far and broke their friendship. Her Omega said differently believing this to be a mating run. She disbelieved the hopeful side of her. No one had ever punished her since she was packless. Being packless protected her from a lot of harm, but it also meant if an Alpha tried or did anything, there was no one to protect her or demand recompense on her behalf.

Every time she thought of Dean Winchester, her Omega would whine and whimper, saddened to be away from him. She had never understood the pull toward him, which had always been there. Since he seemed to not show any sign of it, she always assumed it was one-sided and just a biological instinct she ignored.

The run was making her realize just how tired she was of fighting whatever this was between them. She had never been afraid of Dean Winchester since they met. Right now, however, she was afraid of herself, of her Omega, because she wanted to be caught and had no idea what would happen when he did.

Dean, ever the hunter, knew after the first hunt with Y/N, they were scent-bonded. He never told Sam but wouldn’t be surprised if he knew. Sam was psychic and seemed to read people well. He caught her scent again and followed it. Her arousal became stronger, the vanilla becoming more buttery. The Alpha knew their situation was ideal: no wind and weather mild but for the humidity. He knew he could wait her out, but that meant she would stop simply due to her tiredness, he wanted her to want this just as much as him. His Alpha was a simpering mess every time she was near and he was done. Dean was going to mate her, and then neither of them would have this stupid argument ever again. She would be his Omega and he would get to keep her, forever.

Having hunted with her enough, he knew how she thought. He ran along the river, knowing she’d probably try to hide her scent. Oddly, once he was at the river, her scent didn’t lessen, it seemed stronger. He continued to follow it and after a few hundred yards noticed it weakened. He paused, scenting and tasting the air. He backtracked, thinking she must have done so as well. He was very wrong.

Once he was back at the river, where the scent guided him, he was knocked down to the ground. Instantly recognizing his Omega, he rolled to outmaneuver her but failed. She had him trapped in a headlock. He was getting too old to wrestle like a horny teenager. He was horny and knew his eyes were red. He was holding his Alpha from truly surfacing, worried he would scare her. He was a special Alpha who partially changed when completely in sync with his wolf. He was able to get out of her headlock and saw her.

Y/N was like him.

Her gold irises, beautiful in the moonlight that was making her freckles, somehow, glow. Her fangs had dropped as she encircled him. She had short, black claws in place of her fingernails and multiple tuffs of thin fur matching her Y/C hair on both hands, up her upper arms, and he bet it was along her back some too. Her scent wrapped around him: the woodiness of the sandalwood, the light, floral earthiness of strawberry, and the deep butteriness of the vanilla. The image of a sweet, floral strawberry rose pie on a window sill came to mind. It reminded him of the one Missouri made once, he secretly loved it but denied it when he was a kid. He inhaled his mate’s scent deeply.

Y/N growled at the Alpha. She was not some weak Omega waiting to be caught. No, she decided to trick him and get the jump on him before he did on her. Her plan worked perfectly until he got away. Despite her height advantage over him (being nearly a foot shorter than him), he was very good at wrestling and it was something they tended to do when bored at the bunker. She swiped at him, Alpha’s being quick to heal, his chest was already free of the mark by the time she’d knocked him off his feet and began working to pin him to the ground. He easily flipped them with his Alpha strength as his Alpha surfaced and he shifted as well.

Just like Y/N, Dean’s hands were covered in fur matching his dirty blonde hair that went up the back of his arms and down the back of his neck onto his whole back and down. His fangs dropped and he growled, dominantly, demanding her submission. She repositioned her feet and turned within his grasp onto her front but he kept her wrists in his hands. A wrong move for her as it allowed Dean to bite, without breaking skin, the back of her, pinning her Omega in place. Y/N’s Omega had no choice but to obey, and went pliant in his grip. She closed her eyes and waited. Her breathing came out in heavy pants. He carefully released his bite and leaned down next to her ear, licking the tender spot below and back of her ear causing a shiver to run down her body. Dean growled approvingly.

He nosed along her, placing sloppy kisses along her neck and inhaling at her mating gland. He licked and nipped her mating gland, increasing the scent of her Omega arousal. He softened his grip on her wrists as he continued to tease her mating gland. She whined as he continued.

“You have me,” Y/N’s voice broke with the admission. “Please,” she begged and huffed as she pushed her jean-cladded ass and thighs against his abdomen and pelvis.

He smiled, unseen, and kissed the back of her neck. Shivers ran down her spine each time he did. “Good girl.” She whimpered in response.

“Alpha,” she moaned, squeezing her thighs together.

“Impatient,” he stated, thrusting his leg between her legs. He leaned down next to her ear, breathing heavily. “You are mine, Y/N. I know you’ve felt it.”

She could feel tears flooding her eyes. He did. He did, and her mind celebrated.

He placed several kisses on the back of her back and quickly moved to limit his weight on her. “I’m sorry it took me so long to see, Omega,” he half growled and half whined.

She reached back, grabbed his neck, and turned her head into his face, attempting to nuzzle and comfort him. “I’m sorry…I…gave up,” she whispered, nasally from the tears she wouldn’t let fall.

He sat back, allowing her to roll back over. Her shirt and jeans were covered in dirt and grass stains. Dean figured he was the same but ignored it. It doesn’t matter. Red eyes met gold, silence encompassed them for several long moments as Dean looked over her face. Whatever Dean seemed to be searching for in Y/N’s face, he must have found it because the next thing she knew, he surged forward, kissing her. His arms wrapped around her, his leg returned between her thighs, and she reciprocated—one hand in his hair and the other holding the shirt on his back.

Dean pulled back, panting, gasping for breath. “You’re…you’re mine, Y/N.”

“I am,” she agreed, breathlessly. She whined. “Mate me, Alpha. Please,” she panted. “Please, Dean.” Her eyes searched his face.

“You’ll be mine?”

Tears began to fall down her cheeks. “I’ve always been yours, Dean. I—I—I love you.”

Dean passionately kissed her, mostly a gnashing of teeth and tongues. He slipped one hand between them, unsnapping his jeans and then hers, and pulled hers down. She wiggled to help, lips always touching, as he haphazardly pulled her underwear down in the process to where she had one leg out of her underwear and jeans. Dean smiled at this. She let go of his shirt and worked to help him with her jeans, and then when he leaned back, she followed him to help him with his. She reached in and grabbed his thick Alpha cock. He hissed at her touch and moaned as she pulled him out.

Moaning at the sight of Dean’s gorgeous erection, she laid down, grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled him on her, wrapping her legs around him. “Fuck me, Alpha,” she demanded growling.

His eyebrows rose in surprise at her assertiveness as he went with her, one hand behind her head, leaning on his elbow as he took himself in hand positioning himself at her entrance. He looked down as he slowly pushed into her slick shiny pussy. Y/N groaned, reveling in the stretch. He touched everywhere inside her channel, and she practically purred at the feel.

Dean grinned, surprised by her sounds, and enjoyed them. “Like that, sweetheart?” His voice was deeper, guttural, and dancing goosebumps along her skin.

“Yes,” she breathed. “Full, so full, oh.”

Dean stilled but Y/N gritted her teeth. “Don’t you stop.”

“Yes ma’am.” He pulled back and thrust hard into her, both moaning in unison. He repeated the motion again and again as he built up a rhythm, both of them groaning in pleasure. Dean watched her writhe on his cock and felt her walls flutter around him. Y/N’s eyes were closed, mouth open panting as she held onto Dean’s biceps, meeting him thrust-for-thrust, over and over and over. Soon, she could feel his enlarging knot teasing her entrance. She tried grinding against him each time he bottomed out, pulling a growl from her when she succeeded

“Knot me,” she begged.

“Hold on, Darlin’,” Dean panted against her open mouth. He thrust harder, forcing his increasing knot in and out of her. Shudder after shudder with each jab of his knot’s partial entering, until his knot reached full size. A handful of thrusts later, he pushed it within her and the pressure against her sweet spot pulled her over the edge. Her walls squeezed around Dean’s knot and he bit into her swollen mating gland, coppery liquid rushing onto his tongue. He growled, feeling spend after spend coat Y/N’s inner walls as she gushed, coating his pelvis and her thighs in her juices, screaming through her orgasm as everything seemed to go dark.

To be continued…Part 3

Part 1

Tag @harmonity-vibes

[justagirlinafandomworld]

I'm Driving

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Song Prompt from Unclaimed Love Songs: No One Else on Earth by Wynonna

Word Count: 146

Warnings: just a lil' manhandling 👀

“How did you get to me?” It came out as a growl as you rolled your eyes to the ceiling. He was getting his way in this disagreement, which meant that you were losing. And yet you found yourself not really caring.

Dean cracked a smile and as he passed behind you to head for the door, he leaned in close to murmur in your ear:

“I’m just that good, sweetheart.”

He gave your ass a firm slap and openly laughed at the startled sound that left you.

“Guys,” Sam started, only for the objection to die on his lips. Because you had already proceeded to wrap your arms around Dean’s waist, a vain attempt to retrieve your keys. Dean whipped his hand in the air, sidestepped and wound up with his back slammed into the wall of the hallway and you pressed up against him.

[vikingstoner69]

Heya guys! I know it's been a minute but I am still here! Things have been super crazy. Anyway I do have a few fics coming out soon. I could really use some feedback.

Title: I Would Die Without You!

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Reader

Summary: Dean leaves to say yes to Michael but you track him down. Things are revealed and smut insudes

You knew something bad was happening when you woke up to find only Sam in the room making you sit up and your heart started to race when you saw the letter and a jewelry box on the table with your name on it. You stand and rush to the table to grab the letter and open it and your eyes become teary when you start to read.

“What's wrong?” You jump and look at Sam as tears stream down your face and you look down at the jewelry box. With shaky hands you pick it up and open it, finding a silver necklace with the letter D with a devil's trap inside the silver D.

“He is going to say yes to Michael! I gotta get to him and stop him! I'll get Dean and you get things ready at Bobby's when I'm ready I'll call Cas” you say in a rush as you gather your things in a hurry. Sam looks at you.

“Are you sure about going alone? I mean Dean isn't thinking real clearly” he says making you stop in your tracks and look over at him.

“I know Dean, Sam he would never hurt me besides this is something I need to do alone” you tell him giving him a small smile and he sighs before nodding his head.

“Call if anything happens” he says as you walk out of the door, you had no idea how long it would take to get to him. You didn't get to think too hard about this before the sound of wings and your world span. When you open your eyes you're staring at a hotel door.

Taking a moment you look around trying to see who brought you here but you didn't see anyone but you did see the impala making you look back at the door before you and your stomach dropped as you walked to the door and knocked.

“Hi Dean* you say softly as he swings open the door and his body tensed as you pushed your way past him into the room and you close your eyes and the door clicks closed.

“(Y/n) you can't change my-* his words stop as you shake your head stopping him. You turn around trying to find the words to say as your body is filled with hurt and anger.

“You left without actually saying goodbye dean! After everything you just up and leave!” You yell and dean sets his jaw,

“I left the letter and the necklace!” he yells back making you shake your head in disbelief at his words.

“Are you serious! Did you even think that maybe I had something to say Dean! After everything did you not think I wouldn't have wanted to? I don't know, maybe I have something to say!” you yell and Dean sighs softly before he walks closer to you and you look up at him.

“That's the reason I left sweetheart. If there was anyone who could change my mind it would be you and I can't let you. I need to do this” he says roughly and your heart starts to speed up.

“Damnit Dean! I would die without you! You are the reason I haven't given up Dean! I'm in love with you I always have been dean-” you yell feeling your anger leave you, everything slows down and your world spins when you feel his lips on yours and you kiss him back just as deeply your fingers run through his hair at the nap of his neck and he groans and pulls back.

“I have wanted you for so long sweetheart i just wish i knew sooner” he says his lips barely touching yours and your eyes meet his.

“Stay with me Dean, we can find another way” you beg, Dean sighs softly before he groans and kisses you deeply as his hands travel down your body where he stops and grabs each asscheek in his hand making you moan as he lifts you up making you wrap your legs around him. You look down at Dean as he walks over to the bed and sits making you straddled him. You moan as you feel how hard he was.

“fuck sweetheart the things I'm gonna do to you” he growls In your ear making you moan. You grab his hair bringing his mouth to yours. Your hips grind down on his jean covered cock. Dean rips your shirt off roughly as you pull him over his head. Before you know it you are on your back with Dean over you.

“Oh!” You moan as Dean kisses and bites down on your body leaving marks as he reaches for your pants buttons. Dean looks up at you from between your legs as he pulls them down leaving you naked under him.

“Fuck baby girl you smell so fucking good. I have wanted to taste you for so long” he groans making you bite your lip.

“Fuck” you moan as your fingers tug his hair as he sucks on your clit and Dean wastes no time diving in. Your body fires to life with each lick and suck he made.

“You taste so fucking good” he growls and your hips grind up and you tug his hair.

“Fuck Dean” you moan making him groan as he slowly slides a finger in your dripping cunt without a warning you cum hard on his tongue. Dean groans as your hands slack in his hair and he starts working his way up your body.

You lean up and kiss him, tasting yourself on his tongue making you moan, your hands run down his chest to his jeans where you undo them and he works them off making you both moan at the feeling of each other's warm skin.

“Are you sure?” He says hotely in your neck before leaving a mark. You moan and Dean pulls back and looks down at you.

“Please dean, it's always been you” you say to him and he groans. You bite your lip at the feeling of his one hand traveling up your body to lightly wrap around your throat.

“I wanna see the face you make while I make you mine” he growls hotely before he slowly enters you. You moan at the slight burn as he enters you.

“More dean please” you beg and he pulls out just to slam in with a force you were not expecting. Your nails claw at his back as he drilled into you.

“Fuck baby you fit me so good my good girl” he growls as he fucks you into the bed and your toes curl at his words and you become even wetter. “Oh you like that? You like being my good girl” he groans as you tighten around him.

“Fuck yes! I'm your good girl! Oh right there!” You cry out your nails dragging down his back to his ass where they dig in. Dean works on that spot over again till you're so close.

“Be a good girl and soak my cock” he says huskily as his thumb rubs your clit and you cum hard his eyes never leaving your face as he watches you come undone on his cock. Dean grunts as you spasm around him. As you finally come down you realize Dean had not cum yet.

“Dean?” Your voice is no louder than a whisper but he could hear the question in your voice and he leans down and kisses you deeply and he bites your lip.

“I'm nowhere near done with you baby, first I wanna see how many times I can make you cum for me before I fill you full” he says huskily and he chuckles darkly as you tighten around him.

“I'm your good girl” you grin up at him.

[canyouimaginethatstory]

One Night Standards (Dean X Reader)

Being a hunter was hard and rewarding when you saved someone or stopped a monster but it was incredibly lonely. Loneliness like that could make some ruthless. So one night stands were usually the way to go when seeking an intimate moment. You were no exception of course. Do the deed and go. That's how it worked. And if the time was right you ever only slept with one person when the urge would come. And that was none other than Dean Winchester. He understood the rules of a one night just like you did.

No staying longer than a few hours to overnight. No sharing personal or emotional moments. No romantic gestures. No exchanging numbers or any form of contact. And most importantly no forming feelings. It sounds harsh but in the hunting life romance was an extremely rare occurrence and for most, it ended badly. You and Dean first hooked up when randomly meeting at a bar. You both had different cases in the town you were in. One drink lead to another and you had to admit he was amazing. At first, you two would run into each other at random times and just let yourselves loose with each other for the night. With Dean, it was safe and comforting and man was it the hottest moments you'd ever had. These hookups lead you to break one of the rules. No exchanging contacts.

You hadn't even given it a second thought. Neither of you did. Both thinking you could keep an eye out when you were in the same area and meet up for the random night of passion you've both unknowingly come to crave. Just getting that "wanna get a drink?" text became something you looked forward to upon finding out you two were in the same area.

Having sex with Dean was just pure bliss. The way he touched you. Kissed you. explored your body in ways that always took you way over the edge. It was like Dean Winchester was made for a woman's absolute pleasure. Soon without either of you realizing it the sexual moments you shared became deeper. More affectionate than a typical one night stand should be. This caused you yet again to break another rule unknown to you both. No spending longer than overnight together. It started off as a weekend here and there. But soon you were practically hunting with him and Sam. You went through a lot with the boys. Especially since you and Dean did most of the footwork as Sam stayed back and did research. Which caused yet another rule to secretly become broken. No forming feelings. When they started you didn't notice them at first. But over time you noticed, that you were being affectionate with Dean in ways you never had before. It started with cuddling. Before you and Dean would have sex and then sleep that was it. But lately, you would find yourself snuggled up into his side or he would have his arm over you when you woke up. Then when you two were saying goodbye you would either hug him or he would kiss your cheek. Then more intimate and caring touches happened from giving each other massages when one was sore from a hunt or Dean holding you on the rare occasion you would break down after a rather stressful than usual day.

Then you two started talking. Sharing things and opening up to each other. It flowed so naturally between the two of you. No matter if it was serious or silly it just felt so natural. You kept telling yourself none of it was serious. Then it happened. One night while you and Dean were getting cozy and talking sweetly to each other he made you giggle and three little words slipped right out. Your eyes widened as did Dean's. You panicked and hurried out of the hotel room before he could respond. You ran down the street to the little diner you guys passed on the way to the hotel. You just sat there at a booth for a while sipping on a cup of coffee. You felt so stupid. How could you let that slip out? how could you let yourself fall? You knew better! You sat there scolding yourself until you felt a gentle but firm hand on your shoulder. You looked up and met the bright green eyes you'd come to love getting lost in. He softly smiled at you as he slid into the seat across from you.

You rambled an apology but Dean silenced it by gently grabbing your hand. He looked at you softly and it oddly helped calm you. He brought your hand up to his lips and placed a feather light kiss on your knuckles before repeating those same three words back. "I love you too,".

MASTER LIST: Here

PROMPT EVENT: Here

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[hoziernaturalevents]

Week One Update!

You guys!

We've completed the first week of sign-ups for the Hoziernatural Multi-Ship Bang and there is already so much variety coming in that we couldn't help but decide to share a taste of it with you!

Let's talk about all the favorite characters and ships! (We might make another post to talk about all the favorite genres/tropes/themes coming in, but let's talk about characters and ships for now.)

(by category, in alphabetical order)

The "Any" Crowd:

Along with all of the authors, artists, beta readers, and pinch-hitters who've said they'd be down for just about anything, we also had several who listed things like...

Any Bela F/F

Any Bobby relationships

Any F/F whatsover

Any (platonic) Jack

Any John

Any Meg F/F

Any Ruby F/F

Any Sam

The Gen Crowd:

Carlos x John x Lata x Mary

Castiel x Crowley

Castiel x Dean x Rowena x Sam

Castiel x Sam

Charlie x Dean

Alex x Claire

Dean x Sam

The F/F Crowd:

Anna/Meg

Alex/Claire

Charlie/Jo

Charlie/Mary

Charlie/Rowena

Claire/Kaia

Donna/Jody

Hannah/Meg

Jody/Mary

Mary/Rowena

The M/F Crowd:

Bobby/Mary

Eileen/Sam

Gabriel/Meg

Rowena/Sam

Ruby/Sam

The M/M Crowd:

Adam/Michael

Benny/Dean

Castiel/Dean

Castiel/Sam

Dean/John

Dean/Sam

Gabriel/Sam

John/Sam

The Original Character and x Reader Crowd:

Dean x OC

Dean/OC

Sam x OC

Sam/OC

The Poly and V Ships:

Benny/Castiel/Dean

Carlos/John/Lata/Mary

Charlie/Mary/Rowena

Eileen/Gabriel/Rowena/Sam

Dean\Cas/Sam

People's Favorite Characters:

Amara

Bobby

Carlos

Castiel

Charlie

Chuck

Claire

Dean

Donna

Eileen

Ellen

Gabriel

Jack

Jody

John

Kaia

Jack

Lata

Mary

Rowena

Rufus

Sam

~~~

See your favorite characters/ships in the list? Follow us and watch for the content! Maybe even come join us! You can sign up as an author, artist, beta reader, author pinch-hitter, or artist pinch-hitter, and we will match you with a partner based on the preferences you put on the form.

Don't see your favorites yet? Come join us and bring your friends! Worried your favorite character/ship is too rare? We are only one week into sign-ups and we already have a really eclectic group of multi-shippers and a lot of people who've said they're down for just about anything. If you're still worried, share our event with your followers! The more you do, the more we'll be able to reach people with your similar tastes!

Also, for those of you who've already signed up, if you see something in this list that maybe you didn't think of and makes you go "oh yeah, I'd like that!" feel free to edit your form to include it (you should be able to assuming you signed in). They'll remain unlocked until the end of sign-ups (March 31st). When you do, shoot @rauko-is-a-free-elf a message and let them know to make sure they notice the change.

Anyway, you guys are awesome and we're gonna have a blast! 💚

(Full Schedule and Info) (Sign-Up Form)

[oscar-wilde-thing]

Baby Makin' Music

Dean is a cheesy romantic who wants to dance with his girl no matter who's watching or where they are.

A/N: I was waiting outside of a deli for a sandwich and some car was *bumpin* Al Green. Because the Winchesters live in my head lately, this popped up and I immediately started typing on my phone.

Have some cheesy Dean.

I don't think I've put much of my writing on tumblr... I'm definitely not putting original stuff on here directly, cuz fuck AI scrubbers. But here's a link to something sweet and silly I wrote a few months into the pandemic 💜

“Dance with me.” 

I look up from my phone to find Dean holding out a hand, cheeks pink under his freckles. The oozing sax of a slow R&B song registers in my ears.

Read on AO3

[stusbunker]

*Dreamy sigh*

To be able to be the one who gives him some peace, that's the dream.

No Words

A/N: Early today Beka said she liked the back of Dean’s neck. I said something about shoulders, then I somehow spewed this out. I’m not sure what came over me, but I kinda love it. It is super different for me, so please let me know what you think. I hope you guys like it. 

Words: 756

Warnings: Just a little hurt/comfort. Not beta’d

~

To say the hunt was a rough one was an understatement bordering on insulting, it had left both you and Dean drained, physically and emotionally. Dean wanted to hit the road right after, not wanting to stay in the town any longer than he had to, as if the weight of the past few days would be lighter the farther away you were. You couldn’t find any arguments, so after cleaning up as quickly as possible the two of you loaded the Impala and set off back home.

That was four hours ago. Now, the rain was picking up and starting to freeze. It wasn’t home, but the roadside motel you saw would have to be comfortable enough for the night. You barely spoke to one another. No matter what was said it felt flimsy, foreign on tongues that knew hearts and minds were too heavy for words.

Keep reading

[heartiella]

[stusbunker]

Spotless: Acciaccato

Chapter Thirty Six

Featuring: Dean Winchester/Reader

Other characters: Castiel, Missouri (mentioned), Cain, nameless thugs, Benny, Sam and Kevin

Word Count: ~3100

Warnings, etc: Mutual pining, still unbeta'd, Dean has a few hard thinks about his past whether he wants to or not. The show must go on.

Super, extra, mega, uber, and deepest thanks to @lastactiontricia on this chapter. I know you could have done so much more with it, but I'm taking the knee. xoxo

Series Masterlist

The rooms the band nabbed in Vegas were straight out of Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. It was almost a sin not to share, but at this point Dean would have been stuck with Kevin and even if the kid hadn’t come back in the wee hours with a handful of his own groupies, he doubted Kevin and he would have the same ideas on how to treat a hotel room in the middle of a stay.

Or how to respect a roommate’s privacy.

Instead, he luxuriated in his spacious suite. He told himself he wasn’t hiding or moping. He was just carefully taking some Dean-time before their second show. Besides, he had his therapy appointment in an hour anyway and his laptop was already set up on the desk in his room. 

The softness level of the complimentary robe didn’t hurt either.

Dean turned on a ‘70s music station on the all access cable and checked out the city below. There was a time when he was in Vegas more than he was in LA, every minute he wasn’t needed in the studio he was either on the road or in one of Cain’s gyms or clubs. 

As he took in the city skyline, it was difficult to stomach that he had ever been that guy. Like rewatching a movie where he once idolized the hero, only to see later, the guy was nothing short of a mass murderer hiding behind a badge. Of course, Dean was ashamed of what he did with all his time here. But more than that, he was terrified that that truth would get out.

That you would realize who he really had been then. Not just some self-absorbed rockstar who fucked anything that turned his head.  Who threw away friendships because it was easier than actually working to maintain them. But the mindless rage monster, the guy who was numbed to the point of hurting himself and others to feel alive instead of trapped between planes of existence.

Cain had called it ‘pure’, that base instinct to hurt and dominate, a warrior’s need for victory. But Dean knew now it was an escape, to separate himself from his actions, and to justify the pain he caused and experienced. Dean had no idea if Cain was the man’s given name or not, but it was apropos, the way the man spoke, it was no wonder he was named after the first known murderer.

The room service coffee surpassed the chintzy little one cup brewer they provided in the kitchenette and Dean drank it down greedily. He sat on the leather couch and debated on how he was going to kill the next hour, besides getting dressed. One of the hardest parts of therapy, for Dean, was the build up. Which was why he usually tried to have plans beforehand, so he didn’t overthink too much before they even got started.

But after last night, and being in Vegas at all, he felt safer being alone. Or less exposed, at least.

Dean sighed, set his mug down, and picked up his phone. His wallpaper was the same as always, him and Baby, both bright and smiling for the camera. What the phone screen didn’t say was that Cas had taken the picture. Or that Dean had spent three months in between tours finally fixing her up with his own two hands. There were a lot of things Dean regretted in his life, but the stuff with Cas was at the top of his list.

Before he could stop himself, he pulled up Cas’ number and hit the phone icon. It was the middle of a work day, something he usually never thought about, and Dean was suddenly ashamed to admit he had no idea what Cas was doing for money at the moment.

“Hello?” that gruff familiar voice answered, clearly doubting it was actually Dean calling.

“Hey, Cas. How’s it going?”

“Dean?”

“Yeah.”

“Is everything alright?”

Dean leaned back and tried to sit with the uncomfortableness. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just— felt like checking in.”

The seconds ticked by, but Cas didn’t seem too keen to start up a conversation. The sound of someone working out a riff in the background drew Dean’s focus as his self-doubt almost had him hanging up the phone. Then Cas started moving, the background noise shifted and then disappeared.

“Sorry, we’re recording, but it’s slow going.”

Dean never felt so disconnected from his friend’s life. He didn’t even know they were like a real band or even what they sounded like. Let alone recording. “Wow! Cas, that’s—- that’s great. So what’re you callin’ yourselves?”

“Holy Terror.”

Dean chuckled. “Damn. That’s actually pretty dope, man.”

“I was out voted. I wanted ‘All in the Family’, but apparently that has incestuous implications.”

“Yeah, man, I’m with your bandmates on that one. So— who’s all playing with you? Besides, you know, the kid?”

“Jack. They have a name.”

“I know, dude, it’s just weird because it’s not like I’ve even met ‘em.”

“It is weird for me, too. My life has changed so much in the past year, and I imagine so has yours.”

Dean huffed. “Understatement of the century right there.”

This conversation was inevitable the moment Dean pressed the call button, but still he felt like he owed it to Cas to salvage it.

“And who else you got? Don’t tell me they’ve got you singing too.”

“No, I haven’t fallen so far as to attempt that kind of puppetry.”

Dean couldn’t help but laugh. How did he forget what a sarcastic asshole Cas could be?

“There’s also Balthazar.”

“Nooooo.”

“Yes.”

“Wow. Okay, well, maybe you won’t be the one with the highest totals anymore, that guy’s more of a porn star than a musician most days.”

Castiel exhaled deeply through his nose. 

“What?”

“Our fourth member—- has actually done porn.”

“Cas? Don’t tell me you—”

“He volunteered.”

Dean looked up at the vaulted ceiling of his hotel room and then back at the television and its band facts scrolling at the bottom of the screen. “Wow! Well, I guess you’ve got your work cut out for you.”

“Gabriel actually paid for the studio time. Which has been helpful. Though Frank keeps a security guard on him at all times.”

“Frank let you guys in? Huh.”

“Don’t sound so surprised.”

“No— I’m not. I mean it’s Gabriel is all. Not that you’re not qualified or however that sounded.”

“That’s— very fair of you.”

Dean kicked his heels up onto the coffee table. “Well, that’s the new me. I’ve matured and shit.”

“And shit.”

“You get it.”

“I should get going. Where are you? Should I call you back later?”

“Tonight’s Vegas round two, so no. Got Phoenix this weekend though, so maybe Sunday afternoon if you’ve got time. If not, no biggie.”

“How long will you be on the road?”

“Five months.”

“That’s a long time.”

“Eh— got some double duty at the tail end, since, you know.”

“Yeah. Well, I wish you all luck.”

“Back at ya, buddy. Let me know if you want me or Trouble to pump up this new gig up online, alright?”

“I’ll consider it. Thank you.--- Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for calling. It was good to hear your voice.”

Dean swallowed and nodded. “Yeah, you too.”

“Goodbye.”

“Yep.”

Dean hung up and dropped his phone and his hands into his lap. Deflated and a bit untethered, he guessed it was as good a time as any to get dressed.

The inner workings of the casino held an intricate hive of activity. From the hotel portion, to the venues for shows, out onto the actual casino floor, to the shops, restaurants, spas and other specialty amenities that kept people there and spending, workers bustled and hustled at every opportunity. 

So it wasn’t surprising that not one, not two, but three different employees stopped him backstage as he walked around hours before showtime. His therapy with Missouri had left him drained, but in the way muscles were sore after a workout. His feelings were stretched thin, but the conviction he held them with was strengthening. He was emotionally tougher than ever, but it still exhausted him. 

He gave himself some time in the wings, soaking in the memories of the concert the night before and the energy the fans had poured back out to them. He wanted to finish strong then and there, because then he could put the whole damn city behind him for the rest of the tour.

If only the universe worked in his favor.

Once he got downstairs, his past came back to knock him on his ass. Outside Phantom Traveler’s dressing room stood three men, two of them Dean didn’t bother trying to recognize, they were just goons. The third was someone he couldn’t forget even in his best dreams.  

“Hello, Dean,” Cain’s natural civility oozed old money.

“What are you doing down here?” Dean asked without any pretense. So much for the abundance of security. But knowing Cain, he probably paid them off.

“I was hoping for a chance to catch up. It’s been a long time.”

“Not long enough,” Dean snipped, clocking the lanyards around Cain’s and his bodyguards’ necks. “So you’re here for the show?”

“Of course. You know I was always impressed with your endeavors.”

Dean couldn’t tell if the heat clawing up the back of his neck was from embarrassment, pride, or anger, with Cain things were always complicated. And the fucker knew it.

“Yeah, thanks for that,” Dean felt petulant, but he really didn’t need any favors from the guy.

Cain took a moment, holding Dean in that calculated gaze, then took a step forward. Dean did not back up.

“You know I’m actually surprised you’re deigning to talk to me yourself. Alastair said you sent some Cajun mongrel after him last night.”

“Well, Alastair decided to come at us like a scumbag pap, so-.” Dean shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal if he didn’t make it a big deal. He was barely making polite conversation anyway.

“He does tend to be too dramatic for his own good.” Cain slipped his hands into his pants pockets, casually, but also disarming himself in the process. 

He was untouchable as ever.

“What do you want, man? Not that I’m not enjoying shooting the shit, oh wait, I’m not.”

“Don’t be rude. I wanted to remind you the door’s still open when you’re ready to get back to yourself. The ring’s not the same without you in it. And I hate to have you keeping all that raw talent untapped.”

The words tickled Dean the wrong way as they ticked off of Cain’s tongue.

Dean shuddered and swallowed against the rising bile.

“I’m out. Find yourself another prize hog. I’ve moved on.” He felt the dead look in his own eyes as Cain tisked at his refusal.

“Is that what you tell Ms. Y/L/N? Swear you’ve gone straight, to keep her from looking at you with fear in her eyes? I must say she seems just as smitten with you as that covergirl is supposed to be.”

Dean clenched his jaw and his fist.

Cain let his words sink in and then he took Dean out by the knees. “She doesn’t know, does she, Dean?”

“So what?”

“A man is not what he thinks he is, but he is what he hides,” Cain recited with a raised brow. “What did I tell you about those that don’t understand your dark side? You’ll only disappoint them in the end.”

Dean felt like a kid getting reprimanded for talking back, though Cain was more the dotting teacher type. “Some things should stay buried.”

Cain straightened up and nodded in agreement. “I could always fill her in myself— if it’s too much for you to explain. We could even bring her out after the show, together. Give her a tour of our operations and let her see for herself what you’re capable of? Then maybe you’ll see that she’s not worth the worry.”

“Not a chance. In fact, don’t even fucking look at her.”

“Dean! I’m offering to put some polish on the time we spent together. I’m willing to let Y/N in on your true nature. If that makes it more palatable. You know, it’s not just Alastair that misses seeing you in the ring. I’m sure the boys wouldn’t mind having a fresh— distraction around. We’ve all seen her, you know.”

Dean felt the rage wash over him, the snarling, festering truth; his Hyde side was never truly gone.

“Leave her out of this.” Dean warned, low and bitter. He felt his skin vibrating, his weight shifted naturally onto his toes as his body readied to strike, to lash out and protect. 

Cain looked at him with something close to pity, even as he threatened Dean to the edge of sanity. “I don’t think you understand the lengths I’ll go to bring you home. With or without her, you can’t change who you are inside or where you belong.”

“Everything alright, boss?” Benny’s voice broke through Dean’s thundering thoughts.

“Ah, here’s your man,” Cain’s eyes brightened and he spun on his heels to greet Benny outright. “Yes, hello, Cain Charles. Mr. LaFitte.”

Benny didn’t blink at the uneven introduction, just shook Cain’s hand and held his equally icy glare. “Pleasure.”

“Right. Dean and I were just catching up. But we can leave you gents to set up for the show tonight.” He looked over his shoulder at Dean and then at his two thugs. “Boys? Let’s go find out if they’ve got the box seats open yet.”

Benny, with his flawless instincts, stepped up to the plate. “Why don’t I go with ya? See if I can ease your way?”

Benny nudged Dean with his elbow as he gestured Cain and company down the hall towards the elevators. “You good, hoss?”

“No,” Dean practically grunted.

“Well, go on. I’ve got them.”

Dean shook his head, but kept the rest of his response to himself. He kept his eyes on the back of Cain’s perfect salt and pepper waves until Benny followed half of a beat after. Finally, they disappeared behind sliding metal doors.

Dean gasped out the breath he had been holding and turned and punched the cinderblock wall that led to the dressing rooms. His knuckles burst open and he bent in half with the hot, familiar pain. It wasn’t enough to take away the gut twisting worry that Cain had planted inside him.

But it was enough to bring him back to himself, to that moment and to his hitching breath. He inhaled and shook out his hand. Then he exhaled.

Dean told himself that setbacks happen, that he still was in control of his actions. It just was going to be a long night.

The lights poured down on Dean from every angle, surrounding him with inescapable heat and scrutiny. The show was half way over, he just needed to calm down and be in the moment. But somewhere in the dark, he knew Cain was watching him. No, watching them. 

He flashed a forced grin, cocky and reckless. Fake it ‘til you make it. But the fans loved it, so he kept up the ruse.

“Kevin?” he asked playfully.

“Yeah, Dean?”

“How about we skip the next one and give ‘em some Prophet and Loss instead?”

The crowd screamed in agreement, but Kevin took his time, playing up his indecision.

“You guys wanna hear the new stuff don’t you?!” Dean bellowed, egging them on. Internally begging them to let him out of singing about Lisa right now, or about who he used to be. He couldn’t wait until the album was released and they could focus on the new music, and just touch on the hits.

The fans bayed with excitement.

Kevin played along, ignoring the rest of the setlist and absolutely flexed on the solo.

Letting Kevin have the spotlight, Dean backed up next to Sam, nodding at him as he kept the bassline going. Sam had taken the news of Cain’s reappearance seriously, putting Jesse on Madison detail until she would be taking the flight back to LA the next morning. Bobby and Victor were given blatant warnings that every band member was to be escorted to and from the show and their rooms, yourself and Charlie included. Benny personally promised he’d ensure it got done. But that was only a bandaid on a wound that had been left festering for too long.

Cain knew all of Dean’s tells, and most of his secrets.

Sam, now, held Dean's gaze, silently checking in. But Dean could barely look him in the eye, he was that rough.

Which, of course, Sam noticed.

Guilt was par for the course with Dean, if something sucky was happening, he always felt somewhat at fault. But this was entirely and undeniably his fault and that weight was enough to pull him under and if he wasn’t careful, he’d just let himself sink. To give in to the temptation and be the guy Cain wanted him to be: the fighter that Alastair had curated out of the bar fights and back alley brawls of Dean’s formative years.

To succumb to the anger, and the fear that he’d never be more than that animal, was just too easy.

So, when Sam gave him that incredulous look on stage, Dean had to use every ounce of self control not to just punch his lights out. Fuck him, of all people, for judging Dean. 

He was fucking trying, okay?!

Then Sam’s face shifted and his massive forehead hitched and the puppy dog eyes came out and Dean didn’t want to be seen anymore. He shook his head, shrugged and continued winding his way around the stage, touching base with each member until he was at Kevin’s side. Dean fell into rhythm with Kevin’s extended solo, swaying and bobbing with the beat as it mellowed into a much more upbeat swinging vibe than anything the song it had emerged from ever held.

In that moment, Dean remembered how insanely grateful he was that Kevin had joined the band. His unique twist to the music, mischief, and raw talent were something like paddles to the chest, a resuscitation. A new chance at life for the band.

That bright reminder of hope, of progress, got Dean through the rest of the show. They brought out Annie next and ‘Baby’ was as smooth as the chrome on her namesake.

There were things coming for him that he hadn’t outrun. But on that stage, he was the one who was untouchable. And if it was going to all slip through his fingers by the consequences of his own actions, at least he’d leave it on a high note. 

He gave the people what they came for, and they all left the stage sweaty and smiling.

Tagging:

@deans-spinster-witch

@mrswhozeewhatsis

@cosicas-cuquis

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like

@suckitands33

@ladysparkles78

@deans-baby-momma

@stoneyggirl2

@sassy-pelican

@leigh70

@globetrotter28

@winharry

@lastactiontricia

@rockhoochie

@brightlilith

@coldhearted93

@djs8891

@beautiful-places-blog

@n-o-p-e-never

@spxideyver

Chapter 37: Portato

[impala-dreamer]

Meet Me At The Beach

A Supernatural Story

~ Texting and emails can feel so impersonal. There's nothing quite like exchanging tangible, handwritten letters with someone you love...~

Dean Winchester x F!Reader, Sam Winchester

4,025 Words

Warnings: Bittersweet Angst. SFW. 

A/N: This is for @jacklesversebingo "Writing Letters To Each Other" was the prompt. I hope you enjoy...

June 2

Dear Dean, 

This feels so weird. Do people really write letters anymore? Am I going to get strange looks at the post office when I go to buy a stamp? Will they even know what to do with this tiny envelope and folded piece of loose-leaf paper? I almost don’t know how to write anymore. My script looks kinda like chicken scratch, huh? Hopefully it’ll get better. It is weird not typing though. But emails just seem like work. Impersonal, ya know? Besides, it gives us something to look forward to when we hit the mailbox. Nice to open something that’s not a delinquent credit card bill, huh? 

Speaking of which- how the fuck do you do it? I just got another card canceled. My credit is non-existent. Fuck, I need to get a job. Could you imagine me in an office? High heels and panty hose and my hair tucked into a neat, matronly bun? I shudder to think! 

OK, this is weird. I just wanted to write “LOL” but it’s not an email. Or a text. Why are we doing this again? Oh, yeah, see above. 

Anyhoo- - - - I don’t even know what to say! Umm… I’m in New Orleans for a bit. Not working, just hanging out. My friend Emily from high school tracked me down online and we’ve been chatty. She’s in a band. They’re not bad. Not great, but not bad. So yeah, I took a drive down to see a show and I’m just lingering. Drinking too much, sleeping past noon. It’s fun. Nice little vacation. 

Which - ahem - you should be taking. When are you gonna get your ass out of that dusty old bunker and stick your toes in the sand? I already told you I’d meet you in Pensacola with sunscreen and a cooler of beer. You know you want to. Or are you just scared to show off your ugly toes in flip flops? Your boots might actually cry if you ever took them off, so I guess it’s just as well. 

Hey, do you remember that night in Richmond when it started pouring and your boots sank into the mud puddle? God, that was a mess. We were soaked to the bone. Nice way to warm up, though - cuddled in the back of the Impala. I miss that car. Sometimes, I think I can hear it at night when the world is quiet and the wind is still. It’s like the engine roars in the back of my mind and I start thinking about all our adventures, all the time we spent driving into the sunset. 

I miss you. Is that wrong? I probably shouldn’t. Or at least, I shouldn’t tell you that I do. But I do. I miss you so bad sometimes that it hurts. Like someone has punched me right in the chest. Maybe we can end up in the same town soon. Grab some tacos and sit on the hood. Make a mess. I’d like that. 

OK, before I get too emotional and start asking you to run away with me, I think I’ll end this ranting scribble of horrid handwriting. 

Write me back soon.

Love, Y/N

June 21 

Y/N- 

Your handwriting does not look like chicken scratch. I like it. Mine is like some toddler just learning his letters. Whatever. I never learned that fancy shit. I can sign my name and make a grocery list. That’s all I need. 

This is weird, yeah. But it’s kinda nice. Feels more… like you’re here. Does that make sense? Like seeing your handwriting, the dents in the paper- I don’t know. Just feels more real. Like you’re not just some computer talking back at me. Also there’s something strange about answering questions weeks later. I meant to write this sooner, but I got a little distracted. There was a Kung Fu marathon on and I just lost track of time. Too much pizza, not enough Carradine. Ya know? You know. 

Remember that horrible motel in Raleigh when we both caught that nasty stomach bug and stayed up all night watching old tv shows? Saltines and Little House. I’ll never forget it. You were so sick that day. Shit, I was sure I was gonna end up taking you to the hospital. Sure, I was puking too, but you looked like death. I hated that. Hated that I couldn’t help you, make you feel better. I did cook up a mean chicken noodle soup though, didn’t I? Not that it stayed down for long. 

Thank god for that yellow Gatorade. And yes- it’s fucking yellow. Not green. 

Anyway- I miss you too. I try not to, I really do. Not all the time, no offense, but sometimes I’m just fucking insane with shit going on. But at night, especially, I miss having you beside me. I miss rolling over and seeing you there, or hearing you snore. I miss feeling your freezing feet under the blanket. I don’t know, I just- 

What can I say? I’m sorry. I’m an asshole. I’m the biggest piece of shit in the universe. I shouldn’t have pushed you away. 

Can’t change the past. Just gotta move on. 

Maybe someday you’ll forgive me. I hope so anyway. 

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t dump that all out in a letter. I almost ripped this all up and started over. I actually let it sit for a day before I came back to it. But, fuck it- we said we were gonna write to each other and be honest, and here I am, being honest. 

Fuck, I’m so tired. That kinda tired when sleeping for ten days wouldn’t even put a dent in it. Yeah, OK, so things are getting a little better. Chuck’s gone for good this time. Jack’s got things back in place, even made a few improvements. Sam’s- well, he’s Sam. He’s fine, doing his thing. The dog is- did I tell you we have a dog now? Yeah, I know. Me and a dog- yeah right. But we do. Miracle. He’s a good boy. I’ll send you a picture soon. 

Never thought I could slow down like this. Feels like for the first time we can just - work. I mean, I’m never gonna give up hunting, not totally, but- feels like I could just ease back a bit. Been looking at some jobs in town- nothing crazy, fixing engines and stuff like that. Don’t know if you remember, but I’m pretty good with my hands. 

Did you blush? 

You did. 

OK. I guess- that’s it for now. I have no fucking idea how to end this so - bye?

~ Dean

P.S.  I’ll meet you at the beach soon. I promise.

Fifteenth of July 

To Whom It May Concern:

Re: Beach Vacation

Dear Mr. Winchester, 

I am very pleased to hear that you are agreeable to meeting me at the beach. It should be delightful fun to run through the surf and hunt for sea glass with you.

Oh shit! Do you remember that new age shop in… where the fuck was that? With the sea glass necklaces in the window that I said were so pretty and the witch inside said they were blessed to give the wearer riches or some shit like that. Where was that? Who knows.

Feels like we’ve been all over the world together. Well, this country at least. Lord knows I could never get you on an airplane. If only you could drive to Paris. Did I ever tell you about my trip to France? God, it was beautiful. Rained the whole time, but it was this beautiful, warm spring rain that made everything smell like dust and petals. Not rose petals, but those little white ones that grow on trees, ya know? It was so beautiful. Fuck it. I’m taking you one day. You need to see more than the dash of your car and the backroads of America. Time to travel!

Speaking of- I’m glad you’re slowing down a bit. I know that won’t be easy for you but if you think about it, you’ve spent the last forty years running from problem to problem like a damned bomb-sniffing dog. 

A DOG?! Dean Winchester, I never thought the day would come. I can’t wait to see a picture. Don’t forget it next time. 

I think you’d be a great mechanic. It was always very hot seeing you covered in sweat and grease especially if you had those damned coveralls on. I mean… what? I don’t think about you like that anymore, you know. It’s over and done with and we’re just friends. We are friends, aren’t we? Maybe something more than friends, I guess. Ex lovers? Ew. I hate that word. Lovers. So gross. Well, then what are we? Just two souls swimming in a fish bowl…

Year after year. Day after day. Do you know that I put nearly a hundred thousand miles on my poor truck this year? Back and forth, up and down the country. I don’t have to tell you how exhausting it is. Fun, but exhausting. Rewarding, but not. I wonder how many people remember me after I leave? Does that family in New Haven think about me whenever they go into the basement and it’s no longer haunted? Is there a photo of me on a fridge in Wilmington where I saved that guy’s fiance from the vamp nest? Probably not. I’m sure people remember you - The Great Dean Winchester. The sexy hunter with the green eyes and the giant black car. You’re hard to forget. Also, you hang out with a giant. Tell Sam I said hi. 

I do remember that puke fest! And it’s green. It’s literally neon green. Fight me. 

We could probably write a book, you and me. ‘Winchester & Y/L/N Do America’. It’s a coffee table book with pictures of random diner signs and gas station bathrooms. Maybe a list of the country’s best french fry places. Shit like that. Let’s do it. I’ll call my literary agent in the morning. Ha!

SPARTA!! That’s where that damned sea glass shop was. It just hit me! Stupid brain. I swear, I’ve been hit in the head way too many times. Broken too many bones. I’m getting too old for this shit. Did you know that my left knee pops whenever I stand up now? Like, how old am I?? I can’t stand it. I need a month at a spa somewhere in the desert. That’d be nice. 

Damnit. I just got a call from Vinnie Alverez. Do you know him? Hunter out of Pittsburg. Anyway- he needs help on a job. Guess I’ll cut this letter short. Hopefully I’ll find a box to drop this in on the way to PA! 

Miss you. 

Sincerely yours, 

Y/N

P.S. - I do forgive you, Dean. Of course I do. Things were just too hard back then. Life didn’t want to cooperate for us. It’s not your fault. Not my fault. It just was. Please don’t carry that guilt in your heart. You deserve better than that. 

August 2

Dear Y/N- 

You’re a real character, you know that? Love the corporate letter. I’m in for the book by the way. Could be awesome. We do need a full chapter on onion rings though. Make a note. 

I heard about your hunt in Pittsburgh. Came through the grapevine that you kicked some serious wolf ass. Nice job, kid. Hope you’re being careful. I know how bullheaded and impulsive you can get when you’re in the zone. Just watch your back, OK? Promise me. Last thing I wanna hear is that you got your heart clawed out or you’re walking around with a demon in your ass. 

Demons. Haven’t seen so many running around lately. Queen Rowena’s been keeping them in check. So fucking weird that she’s in charge now. Not that I’m surprised- she’s a badass bitch. If I had a nickel for every ruler of hell I was friends with, I’d have two nickels. Which isn’t a lot, but it’s weird that it happened twice. The kids still say that, don’t they? See, I’m not old. I keep up with pop culture and shit. Started watching the tik toks. I still don’t get it, but I like the woodturning stuff. Thinking about taking up whittling. Maybe carve you a keychain so you stop losing them. 

I got a call for a job interview. Chickened out though. I don’t know if I’m ready to start all that, ya know? Start a real life in the real world- just seems- I don’t know, scary. Yeah, I’ve faced every deadly thing on this and other worlds but the idea of getting a 9 to 5 civilian job scares me. I’m some kinda fucked up, huh? 

I think about it a lot though. Getting a job, finding a little house somewhere, settling down. A little fenced in yard so Miracle can run around and dig up dirt. Might put a rocking chair on the porch and watch the clouds, some shit like that. Would you come visit me in my Barbie dream house? I’ll cook you breakfast every morning and you can rub my feet at night. Real cozy couple stuff. 

OK, so maybe I’m thinking about you more and more these days. Maybe I’m regretting leaving. Maybe I’m just an idiot daydreaming about meeting you somewhere in the middle and sweeping you off your feet. One of those running hugs that hurts when you collide but ends in a kiss that makes everything feel better. I’m a real romantic fuck, huh? I was digging through my drawers yesterday and I found a pair of your socks. Those tiny ones that barely covered your ankle. I don’t know why they were stuffed in the back of the dresser, but there they were. Dingy white socks with the pink threads on the toes. I’ll bring them to the beach when we meet up. 

Oh, Sam says hi and he hopes you’re good and he wants you to shoot him a text when you can. You can do what you want, but you better not mail him a letter. That’s just for me. God, my hand is cramping up. I’m not used to this. Oh, and you’re not alone. My knee creaks like a haunted house when I go up stairs now. And my right wrist pops, and my neck makes this weird almost squeaking sound, and my ass- well, I could go on, but just know you’re not alone. Kinda weird to think that we lived long enough to be this old, ain’t it? I never thought I’d live to be thirty and here I am staring down 42. Forty Fucking Two. Can you believe that shit? Goddamnit I got old. Let’s go find a nursing home together. Maybe we can get a double room- or a king sized bed?

Think about it. We could be cranky old people together. Losing our memories and shuffling around with walkers and shit. You’d look cute with white hair. And fuck, my beard’s already going gray. Should I grow out my beard? 

Write back soon. I really like seeing your letters in the box. 

Dean  x

My dearest Dean Winchester, it is with great happiness that I write this letter to you and I do hope that it finds you well and happy and all good things and I can’t keep this formal shit up. Ha!

Anyway- but yeah, things are good. I know it’s been a while since I’ve written, but I was on a little trip around the continent. Headed up to Montreal for a bit. Killed some nasties, salted some bones, generally fucked around. My beloved truck crapped out in Burlington, Vermont, so I had to hang out there for a while and gather my resources to get a new vehicle. I think you’d like her. Green Ford Explorer from ‘94. OK, she’s not as sexy as the Impala, but she gets me where I need to go. Which, apparently, was Maine! I met up with some friends in Greenville. Cute little town full of witchcraft. So much fun. Also had a lobster roll on a pier… I swear to god, they plucked this thing right out of the water and slapped it on a buttered roll. You’d LOVE it. I’m gonna take you there someday. 

Speaking of- We need to make plans for Florida. I picked up a little bikini on my travels and I think I really need to show it off. Maybe you could be my bodyguard and keep the creeps away while I’m sunbathing? To repay you for your services, I’ll gladly let you take it off me at night…

Oh, and I’ve thought about this extensively, and I believe that you should, in fact, grow your beard out. Like, full on, bushy lumberjack beard. I can’t wait to see all that gray. You know I have a thing for older men… and you’ll always be older than me, Dean Winchester and don’t you forget it!

And for your information, I don’t lose my keys anymore! I got one of those… apple taggy things. Now I know where they are at all times. Can’t find my phone to find them sometimes, but that’s another issue. 

Two weeks later, I’m picking up my pen again. Sorry this is taking forever. Things are stupid busy. I wish I could just… put this fucking gun down and go live with you on a farm somewhere. Not a working farm, we wouldn’t keep pigs or anything because gross, but a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. Big white house with a giant tree in the yard and a tire swing and a picket fence and a kid chasing the dog around and - 

Shit. Do you ever think about it? I do. A lot. More than I’d like to and it fucking cuts me up inside every time. I know we could never have kept it, and life- I mean- it just wasn’t meant to be. But I do think about it sometimes. Imagine if we’d just walked away from the life and tried to be a family? Impossible, I know. Maybe in another life. 

Shit, I’m sorry. Fuck. Ignore me. I haven’t slept in a while and I just

I want to see you. Can we meet somewhere? Wherever you want. I’ll come to you. 

~ Y/N 

Dear Dean, 

This is my second attempt at writing this. Crumpled up the first one because I’m an idiot. Am I an idiot? Did I piss you off with the last letter? I honestly didn’t mean to. I just- we said we’d be honest, and you’ve been so open in your letters that I thought it was ok to talk about, but I guess not. I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have dug that stuff up. 

I’m so tired and stressed and I miss you so much. Since we’ve been writing back and forth it’s almost like I can’t stop thinking about you. I get so fucking excited to check the mail whenever I roll back into town. It’s like… I don’t know, it’s like Christmas every time I see your handwriting in my box. Remember the time you wrote your name on my thigh in Sharpie? That stayed on for like a week. I shoulda gotten it inked on. That’d be something, huh? Branded by a Winchester. 

Fuck, Dean, I really hope you’re not mad at me. I really want to call you, but we said we wouldn’t. Just write me back, please. 

I’ll be in your neck of the woods next week. Got turned onto a haunting up in Abilene. Maybe we can meet on the road somewhere? Please? 

Hey, did you know there’s a Hunter, Kansas? Wonder why they didn’t build the bunker there. I don’t know, made me laugh when I was looking at the map. 

Anyway- Please write me back. Or call. Or text. Or send a damned pigeon with a tiny letter taped to its foot. I don’t care, how, just do it please. Even if you’re mad at me and don’t want to talk anymore, I get it. But please. Just let me know, OK?

I’m sorry. 

Love, Y/N

Dear Y/N,

I didn’t know you and my brother were writing to each other like this, but I found your last few letters to him in his private P.O. Box. I didn’t even know he had one of his own, but I guess we all keep secrets from those we love. I hope you don’t mind that I read your letters. Not all of them, but the last two that came through. Please know that Dean would have responded if he could have, I know he would have. He talked about you a lot recently. Said you two were in contact and that he was hoping to find some time to meet you for a vacation. I don’t know where you guys were planning on going, but I found a new Hawiian shirt in his closet with the tags still on it. 

I know we spoke on the phone after he passed, but I wanted to send this to you. I was cleaning up his stuff and found his notepad. Looks like he’d started a letter before we left for Canton. I think he’d want you to have it. 

I’m closing up the Bunker soon. I don’t really know where I’ll go, but I can’t be here right now. Not without my brother. 

I’ll always be around if you need anything or want to talk. I’ll always answer the phone for you, Y/N. 

Be well,

Sam Winchester

Y/N/N, 

If I could take it back I would. Every fucking word. I think about it now and I know we made the wrong choice. I know we could have made it work if we tried. But we are both total fuck ups who can’t be normal. We just can’t. 

Forgive me

That’s dog slobber up there, not tears. Just fyi. Definitely not tears. I think I might have been a little drunk when I started writing and then well-

Anyway- Maine sounds awesome. We were there once but no time for lobster rolls. Guess I missed out. 

Not much to report since the last letter. Been kinda quiet here. But… I did apply for a job. Well, I filled out the application. Well, I started filling it out. It’s actually underneath this notepad right now. I’ll get to it. I will. I just need a good kick in the ass. Or maybe a pinch… wink wink

I absolutely think we need to get together. Pick some place stupid like the World’s Largest Frying Pan or South of The Border. I’ll meet you. Just say when. 

Guess this letter will take a little longer to finish. We’re leaving for Ohio in a little bit. There’s a buncha vampire dicks making a mess. Gonna take ‘em to batting practice. Show them my machete swing. I’ll give a full report when we’re back home

Dean Dean, 

I made it to the beach. It’s hot, like stupid hot. Had to stand in the water just to keep my toes from burning. I’ve been sitting here for hours trying to think of something to say, but all I can say is I love you. I miss you. I wish you were here with me. I wish things had been different. I wish and wish and wish. 

If I throw this into the ocean will it get to you somehow or will my words just wash away like the sand? 

I’ll see you again someday. I hope so, anyway. Let’s just pretend I’m destined for Heaven. I know you’re up there. You were too good not to be. You sacrificed so much, cared so much, saved so many people. I know you made it. If there’s any mercy in this universe, I’ll be up there someday too. Just don’t have too much fun without me. 

I love you, Dean. Always. 

Y/N

2024 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

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[my-proof-is-you]

my-proof-is-you Tag Lists!

Hello! Since tumblr has a 50-tag maximum, I am trying to clean up my tag lists. If you go to my link below, you can add or remove yourself from any list.

I have only kept my forever tags for now. If you only want certain characters or series, add yourself there, otherwise, forevers get tagged in everything!

Tag Lists

@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2

[justagirlinafandomworld]

nothing lasts forever

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Song Prompt from Unclaimed Love Songs: Wildest Dreams by Taylor Swift

Word Count: 100

Warnings: bittersweet angst & unresolved sexual tension.

A/N: I thought about expanding this, but I like how it turned out. Hope you enjoy this moment!

He found you in the hall later that night, leaning against the wall just outside his bedroom door.

 “We know how this is going to end,” you said.

Breathing deeply, he mirrored your stance, crossed his arms, and nodded.

“Messy, bloody, painful.”

The terrible ache of that truth was clear in your face, even as you lifted a hand to rub it away.

“Everything before that though,” he continued almost shyly. “I mean…”

He made an explosive sound, lifting a hand to demonstrate.

“I have references.”

You laughed and pushed off the wall to step closer.

He matched the movement.

[vikingstoner69]

Dean Winchester/Reader: Done Fighting

  Not edited

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing:dean/reader

Rating: M

Summary: when a fight gets out of hand things are said and feelings are known.

 You look over at Dean who had a death grip on the steering wheel, his eyes never leaving the road and his jaw clenched tightly. Dean was pissed at you and he had every right to be even though you had everything under control you still could have been hurt or worse killed. Dean and you had grown up together and you both were glued to hip and you loved him with every fiber  of your being. You as he enters the parking lot to the crappy motel you both had been staying at while working this case. Sam was off bobby on another hunt leaving you and dean to take care of a pack of werewolves a state over. 

“Dean I’m fine, I didnt get hurt and the monster is dead. I would say thats a good day in my book” You say trying to make him relize you were fine and had everything covered. Dean's head snaps to your way as you speak as he shuts of the car his eyes burning with fury. Without saying a word dean gets out of the car and stroms off to the hotel door and gose inside you following after him calling his name. When sudden he stops and turns on you. 

“And what if you had died! Huh? What then? Fuck (Y/n) I cant lose you! I love you way too much to let that happen!” he yells his body tense and you feel your heart speed up at his words. Dean moves till he is standing right in front of you and you look up into his eyes. 

"Don't say things you don't mean dean" you say sadly knowing he didn't mean it. This was not the first time he has said this. The first time he had been shit faced drunk. You bite your lip and go to walk past him but he grabs your arm and spins you around till you're facing him again. 

"Don't you dare walk away from this (y/n) and you tell me how I feel!" He snaps and you look up at him. You feel your anger flare and you yank your arm free. 

"Why! So you can magically forget that you said it and then pretend like it didn't happen!? I can't go through that again Dean! I don't know what game you're trying to play but I'm done!" You yell tears running down your face. 

"What are you talking about!?" He snaps looking at you, his eyes going hard. 

"You have a habit of saying you love me when your drunk" you snap and he sighs as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.

"That wasn't me (Y/n). A skinwalker took my face" he groaned and you felt your heart stop and your stomach to drop.  You felt sick as you remembered that Night. 

"Then that wasn't you that kissed me?" You ask softly, feeling all your anger leave you. Dean's eyes lock on yours and he steps even closer making you look up. 

"Tell me everything" he growls leaving no room to argue. You bite your lip and think back to that Night. 

"It came to the hotel and asked if I wanted to get a drink. We went to the bar and did shots. The other you got drunk and walking back to the room it said that you loved me and then kissed me" you tell him recalling the entire thing. Dean's head was down and his eyes were closed and his body was tense. 

"It kissed you" he growls through clenched teeth you felt your heart speed up and your core to throb at his anger. You bite your lip as dean steps closer to you. 

"Yes" you whisper and he growls his face moving closer to yours. 

"We're gonna have to fix that" he growls, crashing his mouth to yours making you moan and him to groan. You kiss him back just as hard your hands tug in his hair as his hold on you tightens. Dean nips your lip and you moan as your tongues battle.

 Dean's hand tangles in your hair and his other hand on your hip tightens as you push your chest into his wanting to be closer to him and you whine at the loss of his lips when he pulls back making you poute a bit. 

"Tell me the truth Dean. That thing Said you loved me. Is that true?" You ask, your voice coming out like a whisper and cracked at the end. You knew this changed everything but you had to know. 

"I- yeah (y/n) I do. I really fucking do but I thought if I kept you at a distance you would be safe. I can't stop loving you, no matter how much I try" he says gruffly, his eyes staring deeply into yours. You bite your lip as his words sink in. You lean up and kiss him deeply but before it gets too heated you pull back. 

"I love you Dean. I have for so long but I never thought you could feel the same for me" you say softly your eyes filling with tears as his hand cups the side of your face. He leans down his lips barely touching yours. 

"I'm not fighting this, I can't" he says huskly, your heart felt like it might bust out of your chest. The image of him with his head between your thighs  you made up flashes in your mind and you feel your cunt throbs. 

"Then don't" You say, closing the small gap between your lips and kissing him deeply. You loved the feel of his lips on yours. Dean's on you tightens as you bite his lip and he picks you up, your back hitting the wall and your legs wrapping around him. You both moan as you grind down on him. 

"Fuck! The things I'm gonna do to you sweetheart, gonna make you feel so good" he growls huskly in your neck before you feel him suck and bites your neck making you moan. 

You push your hands under his black shirt and you feel his muscles twitch at your touch. Your nails run down his chest and he growls and bites a mark into your neck. 

"Take your shirt off" you growl, tugging on it and he chuckles. Dean used his thighs to hold you up as he removed his shirt for you. He barely gave you time to look before he had your shirt off you. His hands roaming your body. You moan, placing your hand on his chest and push him back a bit so your feet hit the floor and you look up at him as you undo your pants and take them off leaving you naked in front of him. You watch as he bites his lip as he pops the button on his pants. 

You reach out and place your hand on his chest and you push him till he is backed up to the bed. His eyes never leave you. You push till he sits down and you lean down and kiss him deeply. You kiss down his neck biting and sucking marks into his skin. 

"Fuck sweetheart" he groans as you kiss and bite down his body. You look up at him as you reach his undone pants and lick your lips. 

"Oh you have no idea all the things I have thought about" you smirk pulling out his hard cock. You start to stroke him slowly and he groans as he watches you play with his cock. 

"(Y/n) fuck baby" he groans, you lock eyes with hie as you suck the head into your mouth and you both moan. You suck and lick your way down his cock till his tip brushes the back of your throat making you gag a bit. 

Dean's hand goes into your hair as you suck him off. You moan and look up at him before pulling off with a loud pop. 

"You taste so fucking good dean" you grin from your spot on the floor, you were soaking wet form him and he hadn't even touched you. You wanted to feel his hands and mouth on your body. 

"Your mouth around my cock has been the best sight I have seen in a while" he groans rubbing his thumb over your lip and you suck it into your mouth like you did his cock. You look up at him as you let his finger go and straddle his lap and grind down on his hard cock and he could feel how soaked you were. You kiss him deeply as you roll your hips his hands grabbing both cheeks in each hand and drags your soaked cunt on his cock making you moan. 

"Fuck me dean, make me yours" you moan in his ear before biting the lobe and he groans and just like that you are on your back with dean hovering over you. 

"Oh sweetheart I plan on fucking you but first I want to taste your sweet pussy" he growls his eyes bright and blown with lust. Dean slides down your body to your hot slit and sucks your clit making you cry out and pull his hair. 

"Oh! Dean fuck! So good" you cry out your back arching off the bed as he eats you out like a man starved. You cum hard without warning making you scream his name. Dean kisses up your body to your lips where he kisses you deeply and you moan as you taste yourself on his lips. 

“You taste so good baby” he groans against your lips and you moan thrusting your hips up needing the fricton, you needed him. 

“Please dean” You moan hoping he would stop teasing and fuck you good and hard. Dean smirks down at you as he grabs his cock and rubs it through your dreched folds rubbing your clit. 

“Fuck me dean, Make me yours” You beg, he groans and sowlely pushes in you both moaning at filling getting what you both wanted for so long. Dean filled you to the brine and stressed you out just enough to leave a slight sting. Dean leans down and kisses you deeply as you adjust to him. He reaches down and slowly rubs your clit and you tighten around him making him groan. 

“Your so tight and wet sweetheart, gonna fuck you good and hard” He growls as he fucks into you hard and deep shaking your body with each hard thrust. Your nails drag down his back and you cling to his ass your nails digging in trying to bring him closer. You were a moaning beginning mess. Dean leans down and kisses and bites every inch of skin he could reach, marking you. His hold on you was almost borderline painful but you didn't want him to loosen his hold on you. You liked that he might leave bruises behind you wanted to feel this for days. 

Dean pulls out of you and flips you on all fours with your ass in the air as he re enters you from behind. His hips slam into you deeply and roughly making you cry out and push back taking him even deeper. One of his hand goses into your hair and pulls your hair bearing your neck for his teeth. Dean growls lowly before he smacks your ass making you cry out and clench around him tightly and he groans doing it again. 

“Dean please!” You beg pushing back into his hard thrusts you was so close to cumming. It felt like he had kept you right at the edge for ever and you needed to cum badly. 

“Please what sweetheart?” he growls in your ear never losing his rhythm or pace as he drilled into you. Your mind goes hazy and foggy from his tone and from lust. Dean gives another sharp smack when you don't answer making you cry out and clench around him. 

“Please let me cum!” you cry out as he pounds into you he groans and pulls out and flips you back over on your back his hand gose around your throat making you look right at him. Dean leans down and kisses you deeply as he fucks you hard into the bed your nails leaving tracks down his back. 

“Scream for me Sweetheart” he growls in your ear before rubbing your clit hard and hiting your g’ spot. 

“DEAN!” you scream out as you cum hard your body stiffens and your world gose bright white. Dean groans and pumps a few more times before he stiffens and cums deep inside of you making you moan. 

“Damn Sweetheart” He pants laying down kissing you deeply before falling on the side of the bed trying to catch his breath. Dean reaches over for you and you lay your head on his chest as he runs his fingers through your hair, holding you close to him. You could feel his heartbeat slowing down as you kissed his chest. 

“What? Too much for you to handle?” you grin and he chuckles and smacks your ass playfuling making you laugh. Dean looks up at you as you straddle him his hands going to your hips and your hands on his chest as you rock just a little bit making him bite his lip.

“For you? Never sweetheart I just think we should of done this sooner” he grins up at you his hands running up your sides. You feel him harden under you and you smirk down at him. 

“An now you Dean Winchester are mine and this night is just getting started” You smirk holding up a pair of handcuffs.