#I WOULD KILL FOR DEAN’S FLANNEL

[siampie]

Oh, how I would love to wear Dean’s henley or even one of his flannels. So big and comfy, I imagine.

I don't know much about Beau or Ben, haven't truly gotten around to watch their shows. But, I know Ben is feral when his woman wears his cloches.

And as for Beau, well, the cowboy hat is doing it for it. Or the boots do, I don't know! 🤣🤣

Just great work as always

Headcanon: Wearing His Clothes

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

AN: I haven't done one of these in a while! This one was requested by the lovely @luci-in-trenchcoats. 💜

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Fluff, spiciness/implied smut

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to you (getting caught) wearing his clothes.

Dean Winchester

Ugh, what a cocky SOB. 😆 (And yet, not the cockiest of them all.)

You've been doing it for weeks now, without comment from him.

But every time he sees you in one of his undershirts, getting ready for bed, it's always accompanied by a little once-over. A curve of his lips. A smirk, if you will.

He likes the look of you.

He likes that you're his.

And he likes the fact that you feel comfortable enough to steal his clothes.

He also likes welcoming you into bed next to him, with a hand running up your back, or venturing under whatever undershirt you've decided to slip on to feel the warmth of your skin.

"'S this mine?" he asks. You give him a quirking smile.

"You know it is," you say, with playful challenge.

Dean accepts that with a hum and leans in for a kiss as payment.

Sometimes that one stolen kiss leads to another, simmering with heat. And he’ll take great pleasure in taking back his shirt, casting it to the floor and rolling you underneath him on the bed.

But it doesn't stop at his undershirts. You steal his plaid ones if you want something to comfortably drown in when you're doing research, or just lounging in the bunker. The material is soft from several hundred washes. (The red and black one is one of your favorites.)

Rare though it is for him to wear hoodies, it's rarer still, because Dean can never even find one in his side of the dresser.

That's because you're keeping it hostage on your side, buried under your lingerie. (Even if he tried to find the hoodie, odds are he’ll get distracted.)

It gets to the point where he can hardly find anything of his.

His brows furrow as he rucks through his drawers for something clean to wear, while clad in only his most threadbare sweatpants.

"Damn it, woman. Where are my shirts?" he grouses.

You bite your lip and pretend to keep reading your book. You're already safe in bed, covered up to your chest by the blankets.

"I don't know. Have you done your laundry?" you ask, smiling to yourself. Dean catches you, with a suspicious brow raise.

He climbs into bed and snatches the covers away from you. You yelp at the suddenness and try to grab at them, but it's too late.

He discovers that you're wearing one of his newer shirts, which he had to buy to replace the ones he just can't seem to find.

"Are you kidding me? This is Theft in the First goddamn Degree!" he exclaims, even though he's close to laughing at the way you're already giggling. He manages to pin you underneath him on the bed, and he has half a mind to take this shirt back as well, by whatever means necessary.

And yes, tickling is one of those means.

"Sweetheart, for the love of God. Why do you keep taking my shit?" he asks, in a way that's half-serious in his frustration, but also half-teasing.

You shrug shamelessly, still smiling. You run your hands up his bare arms and shoulders, and back down his chest.

"I don't know. It's comfortable," you say. But your eyes lower as your face begins to warm with a blush. "Makes me feel safe...like you're always with me."

At that, the tension in Dean's shoulders eases. His smile can't help but soften around the edges as he looks down on you, now with fondness. After a while, he lets out a deep sigh.

"All right," he says.

You grin, because you know he's given up. You lean up for a kiss that successfully distracts him.

Dean still gets annoyed sometimes when he can't find a specific item of clothing in his drawer, but now, all he has to do is go over to your side of the dresser.

There he knows he'll eventually find what he's looking for.

Beau Arlen

Heh, in this episode of “Whose Hat is it Anyway”...

Beau's wardrobe reminds you of a cowboy in modern times.

Lots of browns and beiges, lots of slacks and buttoned-down shirts tucked in with an army of belts to choose from (even though the man only owns a few pairs of boots). Not to mention a slew of jackets that often pull the look together.

But being that he's new to Montana (specifically, Montana winters), you like to buy him sweaters. Cable-knits and soft ones in earth tones that you think bring out his eyes.

Beau accepts whatever you get him and graciously wears them. He trusts your judgment on what looks good on him, and he appreciates the way you think of him.

It's just one of those ways, however small, that you show that you care and that you're looking out for him.

One night while he's working late, however, you find yourself trying to reorganize the closet. The man is "organized chaos" at best, and you find one of his sweaters on the floor. It's a nice burgundy one that you bought him recently.

Ooh, so soft, you think, while feeling the fabric between your fingers.

You don't know what possesses you, but you decide to slip out of your pajamas and try it on yourself.

SO damn soft, you realize, as you practically drown in the sweater. It hangs about to mid-thigh.

Then you see one of his beige Stetsons hanging on the wall. A sneaking smile curves your lips, before you slip on his hat.

To complete the ensemble, you dig into the recesses of your closet and find a pair of your old cowboy boots. You go out into the bedroom and check yourself out in the mirror with a growing smirk.

"Hey there, darlin'," you try to impersonate your boyfriend's subtle Texan twang, and even his mannerisms by winking at yourself, tipping the hat forward.

You giggle at your own silliness in this moment, but alone in your own house, who freakin' cares? You should feel free to dance naked through the whole damn place if you feel like it.

So you spin on your heel and do a little twirl in your boots.

"Who's the sheriff now, huh?" You mime a pair of guns with your hands and shoot at your reflection. "Psh, psh!"

But that's when you catch sight of one Beau Arlen, leaning against the bedroom doorway with his arms crossed. An amused grin is plastered to his face.

You freeze in shock, still with your "gun hands" held up.

"Oh, don't stop the show on my account," Beau says slyly. He gestures at you. "Please, continue."

Your hot blush spreads from your cheeks and quickly begins to travel down your neck. "Uh...I was just...you know, cleaning the closet. You're very messy, you know!"

Beau snorts and draws closer. Those green eyes of his take in the full sight of you, down your bare thighs and cowboy boots, and back up to your embarrassed face. You bite your bottom lip on reflex.

"You know, I like what you got goin' on here," he says, waving a hand down your form. "But it's just...it's missing something."

He takes his badge with the gold star off his belt and pins it to your sweater.

"There you go. Perfect fit," he says, even as his hand slides up the slope of your back. You find yourself pulled further into his orbit as you try (and fail) to stamp down a smile.

"You're late, you know," you remind him. Beau bows his head and presses a kiss into your neck. You feel his smirk there.

"I'm sorry, Sheriff. Gonna arrest me, or let me off with a warning?" he teases. His other hand comes up to adjust the hat on your head. You smirk and cling to his arms over his dark brown jacket. It's one of his nicer ones.

"I think I can let you off," you play along. You lean up to skim your lips across his cheek, and closer to his ear. "But only for good behavior."

He has to chuckle then. "I can accept those terms..."

Beau's hands slip under your stolen sweater and begin to slide it up your body, inch by inch.

"Though I'm gonna need you to keep the boots on," he says lowly, just before he claims you with a searing kiss.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, here we go. 😅

As with most things, it's a point of pride for Ben.

He'd prefer you be too fucked out to move, let alone put on clothes after he's finished with you.

On the rare occasion that your body doesn't feel too much like warm molasses after a few hot rounds with your boyfriend, you like to at least grab one of his discarded shirts to cover yourself.

If he still has energy, he'll take that as a challenge. He'll try to slip his hands underneath whatever shirt you've found and divest you of it, so he can start devouring you again.

However. Ben does like seeing you in his clothes, in a possessive, claiming way.

There are days when you just want to be swallowed up in one of his large, comfortable shirts as you lounge about the house.

Ben sometimes watches you putter around, cleaning, working, cooking, reading, or watching TV in nothing but his clothes. He wonders if you're even wearing panties. You could be bare faced with a severe case of bed head, but his eyes will still occasionally follow you.

His expression doesn't reveal too much, but he likes it. (And because you know him, you know it too.)

Maybe he'll catch you as you pass by, hooking an arm around your waist and pulling you flush against him. You startle with a yelp, but then you grab onto his arms and smile.

"Can I help you, sir?" you tease.

"Think you can just walk by me, looking sexy as fuck?" he remarks. He steals a slow, thorough kiss. You cup his face and bring him back in for more, tenderly stroking his cheek.

"You know why I like wearing your stuff?" you ask. Your smile hints at teasing.

Ben arches a brow. "Why?"

"Because it keeps you looking," you reply. And you reach a hand around to slap his ass, for good measure.

Then you saunter away from him to get back to what you were doing.

Or at least, you try to.

Ben grabs your hand and pulls you back towards him, back into the cage of his arms, where he falls back into the trap you've so often laid. And he finishes what you started.

AN: Well, then. 😂 I hope you guys enjoy this! Who had your favorite reaction: Dean, Beau, or Ben? 😘

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[deanwinchestersbabygirll]

wishful thinking

-warnings// angst, mentions of smut but no real descriptions

lil summery// Sam has a little crush on deans girlfriend a just little sad

Dean x reader... with a little Sam x reader (just a lil bit)

word count// 3450

(Gif from pinterest)

You groaned as the light came through the window blinds, rolling over to hide in your boyfriends warm chest, Dean chuckled running his hand up and down your bare back "not ready to wake up gorgeous?" He asked kissing the top of your head "no. My plans revolve around staying in bed with my pretty sexy, and very nude boyfriend" you mumbled against his chest, dragging your hand down his chest and down his stomach

You jumped back when you heard a loud knock on the door "are you two almost ready? There was another attack last night" Sam called through the door, "Just taking a shower then we'll be out Sammy" Dean yelled back, you looked up at him confused "baby we showered last night" Dean chuckled, rolling on top of you, he smirked down at you, his amulet hanging down his neck "yeah but I just bought us some more time" Dean flirted as he pressed kisses down your neck, already making your eyes roll.

Sam leaned against the impala, growing more and more impatient as the time moved on, with a final sigh of annoyance he went back to Dean and your shared motel room, "Dean I've been waiting almost an hour dude serio-" Sam started to yell but was quickly cut off by the door opening revealing you dressed only in deans long red flannel, your cheeks red and your hair a mess "I'm sorry Sammy, we'll be right out in two minutes, I swear" you told him quickly shutting the door in the stunned Winchesters face 

Sam was in awe of you, ever since you and Dean came to get him from Stanford four years ago he knew there was something about you that just warmed his heart, how kind you were to him and when Jess passed, you let him cry in your arms many nights after, how beautiful you were, how smart you were, you were like a walking encyclopaedia. He knew how wrong it was, having a crush on Deans girlfriend. he just couldn't help himself 

Every day was an internal battle for Sam, he wanted you, he wanted you more than he's ever wanted anything, but he sees how much his brother loves you, and that's what kills him even more, he would never want to hurt his brother. He just couldn't help himself, especially when he heard your moans through every crappy motel walls, hell he's even walked in on you both going at it  more times than he'd ever like to admit, you would think after the eitgth time Dean would learn to lock his damn door.

It definitely didn't help Sam keep himself composed when he was popping boners left and right with the images of you after being fucked, even if wasn't by him flash through his mind constantly.

"Alright, give us the run down Sammy" dean said as he drove away from the red room motel Sam stayed quiet as he tried to avoid looking at you sitting in the back seat "Sammy!" Dean called loudly snapping his fingers in his face startling the seasoned hunter "w-what?" He stuttered out confused "gives us the run down... are you feeling good, not like you to be so out of it man" dean turned to look at him quickly worry evident in his voice 

"Yeah fine just tired. didn't sleep great"  Sam mumbled out tucking his growing hair behind his ears "you sure sweetie? you look a little pale, maybe your coming down with something. c'mere let me check your temperature" you said leaning into the front to feel his forehead "w-what no no I'm fine not sick I'm just tired so just drop it and leave me the hell alone!" Sam said flinching away defensively, if you touched him right now he was definitely gonna go crazy 

Dean turned to give Sam a hard look "watch it Sam, she was only trying to help you, no need to bite her damn head off!" Sam snorted "whatever" he pushed himself as close to the passenger side ignoring his brother for the rest of the ride his eyes stared hard out at the road as he tried to focus on the hunt... and not how good your breasts look in that shirt .

Dean looked at Sam then gave you a concerned look matching your own in the rear view mirror. 

When you got to the Swanson house you both  decided to let Sam take the lead in questioning considering he didn't give you any details on the death, what he suspected, could be demon, ghost... literally anything at this point.

"Any idea what's up with Sam?" You asked Dean watching as Sam spoke to the victims heartbroken husband, Dean sighed his eyes narrowed at his little brother trying to figure out what's going on in his head "not a clue but I'll talk to him about it" dean grumbled out squinting his eyes at his younger brother.

It was a quiet drive back to the motel , Sam was laser focused on watching the blurs of houses and cars, you couldn't help yourself but looking at him worried, you were sure he could feel your eyes burning a hole into the back of his head. Even if he did feel it he never let on, never acknowledged you or dean were in the car too.

Once Dean parked baby Sam was rushing out toward his motel room. Dean slammed the car door annoyed before turning to look at you his hard eyes softening "I'm gonna talk to Sammy see if I can get him to talk about wheatever the hells bothering him" dean told you before planting a soft kiss on your lips "okay baby, I'm gonna take a walk and go grab us some snacks and beer, hopefully Sammy opens up to you" you wrapped your arms around deans neck, his own on your hips as he had you pinned tight against the impala

Dean shook his head pulling baby's keys out of his pocket "your not walking anywhere sweetheart, I trust you'll take care of my baby, and my baby will take care of my sweetheart" dean joked making you giggle, your cheeks heating up as you licked your lips "you Dean Winchester are a man of many surprises... and I quite like that about you" dean caught your lips once again in a soft kiss his tongue slipping into wrestle with your own before giving your ass a hard smack. You gasped and pulled away your body feeling hot at his actions 

You put your hands on deans chest lightly pushing him away from you "alright I better go, good luck talking to Sam" dean shook his head his green eyes turned to look at Sam's closed motel room door sighing "yeah I'm gonna need it". 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

Your nerves were all over the place as you walked around the small corner store. You hated when Sam and Dean would fight, on one hand, Dean is your boyfriend you can't help but take his side most of the time, but Sam was your best friend. It just put you in such a shitty position until the boys eventually swept it under the rug. You grabbed a bunch of snacks because you knew Dean was an angry eater and he usually stuffed his face with liquorice and chocolate after any arguments, or if you were having make up sex and dean was still a little mad he'd eat something else...

You opened the door to your motel room so see Dean pacing the floor his hands running through his hair, clearly he was frustrated and seemed pretty anxious "how'd it go sweetie?" You asked him setting the bag of goods and beer on the table "I- uh- fi-fine yeah I guess" dean stuttered out as his pacing continued "dean what's wrong? Is it bad- oh my god please sit down your freaking me out!" You snapped grabbing deans arms stopping him from moving any further "it's nothing I just... look you know how much I care about you. Id do anything for you no matter what it was, I just when you talk to Sam please remember that" dean told you his hands coming to rest on the sides of your face his worried eyes staring into your own

"Wha- talk to Sam? Dean what's going on why do I need to talk to Sam?" You were freaking out why the hell was Dean Winchester, the man who hides what he feels on the daily pouring his heart out to you now of all times. Dean leaned in catching your lips in a slow sensual kiss, pulling away to rest his forehead against your own "I promise everything will make sense if you talk to Sam" Dean whispered "okay let's go" dean shook his head immediately "I don't think I should be around Sammy right now I'll wait for you here" okay now you were officially freaking the fuck out

You nodded slowly and headed out to towards Sam's motel room next door. You stared at the red door taking a couple of deep worried breaths before knocking. It took three seconds after the last knock until the younger Winchester was opening the door his cheek looking slightly swollen "hey... come on in" Sam said moving to the side to allow you in "hey... so what's going on? Dean seemed pretty upset" you told him, Sam sighed and ran his hands down his face his eyes closed tight "it's stupid. It's so stupid I just don't know what to do anymore I've been... fuck this is hard-" "Sam! Spit it out please!" You yelled cutting off his rambling 

"....Y/N, I think I'm in love with you" once the words left Sam's lips your whole body froze. You felt like the air was sucked right out of you. "You what?" You asked "I think I'm in love with you... it started a couple of years ag-" "Years! what the fuck do you mean years Sam? How many?" You cut him off "i- I lost Jess and then you... you were there for me and it just kinda escalated from there. Look I don't want to feel like this. I don't want to be in love with my brothers girlfriend, I've felt like the worst person in the damn world every day because of this... I just I can't help it" Sam confessed

"Sam Jess passed four years ago. Are you telling me you've had feelings for me since then?" You asked him calmly and he nodded quickly "honey I don't think your in love with me. I think you went through an extremely traumatic experience with Jess and me being there for you every day. I think your confusing the feelings you had for jess to me. Sam, I love you because your my best friend... and I'm with dean and I haven't even told him yet but I love him Sammy..." you told him and Sam took a deep breath "I uh i guess I never thought about it like that. I think your right I'm confusing my feelings I had for Jess to you" Sam agreed making you relax 

"I'm sorry I sprung all this on you and Dean today. When you put it like that it makes sense... I mean Jess was the love of my life… I even had a ring. Before you and Dean came to Stanford I had it all planned out, then it was taken away from me in the blink of an eye... and dean still has you-" Sam paused taking a shaky breath "I guess I'm just jealous of you guys, of what you have with each other. I've never seen Dean love someone so much and that's why me feeling like this bothered me so much because I want my brother to be happy and I want my best friend to be happy too" Sam ended his speech and you had tears falling down your cheeks feeling your heart break at his words

"Sammy I'm so sorry about what happened with Jess. You deserved to have the happy life you always wanted with her" Sam nodded his eyes filling with tears he sucked in a harsh breath of air "yeah.... I miss her every day. I just... I want what I had with her back- I want Jess back, I see you and Dean and I want that. Jesus I fucking had that. Life deals me the crappy hand of yellow eyes and Jess has to pay for it?" Your cheeks were wet with tears, you couldn't help but bawl at Sam's words. Life had been so cruel to the Winchesters 

"I know honey... I know. It's not fair, I know you feel like Jess was the one for you but sam, I only met her once and I seen how much she loved you. She would want you to get out there and find the girl your meant to spend your life with, it's not me, but she's out there... she's just waiting for you to find her" you smiled taking his big hand in yours and giving it a comforting squeeze. Sam nodded slowly 

"I really i appreciate that Y/N, I'm glad this crap got brought out. Talking to you has really made me feel a lot better about this so thanks, I uh do you mind giving me some time just to think. I kinda want to be by myself now" Sam told you and you nodded heading towards the door, Turing to take one last look at the sad giant "we're right next door if you need anything at all, okay Sammy?" His lips curled in a soft smile and he gave you a quick nod.

Once the door was a shut you leaned against it your hand going to your chest as you took a deep breath, hunting gouls was easier than that damn conversation. Your heart was beating like crazy thinking back on every word, Sam thought he was in love you, I mean of course he wasn't. He was in love with the idea of you... of love that's what he wanted.

You squeezed your eyes shut to calm down before going back to your and Deans room. You opened the door to find Dean sat at the edge of the double bed, his head facing the ground as his hands ran through his hair “Dean?” You called to him. His head snapped towards you his feet moving faster than the rest of his body as he stunned his way toward you “Y/N…. H-how’d it go? Did you-” “talk to Sam… yeah we had a long talk. I think everything’s gonna be just fine now” you told him 

Deans shoulders visibly relaxed, his arms wrapping around you and pulling you into a hug “thank god… thought I was gonna have to kick his ass” dean joked but you thought back to Sam’s swollen cheek. You pulled back from the hug and gave dean a hard look “Dean Winchester… did you punch your brother because of me?” 

Dean shook his head quickly “no of course not… I punched him because he told me he wanted to be with my girlfriend, maybe had he phrased it better to me I wouldn’t have lost my temper but if someone tells me they want to be with my girlfriend and they’re in love with her… I’m gonna loose my shit” you tried to hide the small smirk from your face by leaning in to give dean a hard kiss on his soft lips “that’s really sweet baby. Please don’t fight with Sam because of me, seriously we had a really good conversation tonight” 

Dean noodles slowly “can you tell me what you talked about?” You smiled and sat down on the bed and pulling Dean with you so you were both laying down on the hard mattress “well he told me he was in love with me-” deans arm around your waist grew tense as he pulled you closer so your head was resting against his chest  “but we talked about things and we got to talking about Jess and-” you paused taking a deep breath and looking up at dean to find him already looking at you 

“Sam is still hurting over Jess. He was confusing his love for Jess to love for me, thats all, he’s not In love me. He’s in love with the idea of love because he had that, then he lost it in the blink of an eye and then he sees us together. He just needs some time and he needs us to help him get back out there find a distraction, hey maybe even find the love of his life like m-” you stopped yourself quickly, Dean opened his mouth to say something but you quickly jumped back in

“We should take him out tomorrow, there’s a bar down the block. I saw it when we were driving earlier, it looks like it could be fun, what do ya say?” Deans eyes crinkled as he smiled lovingly at you. He loved how much you looked out for Sammy, it’s part of what made him fall in love with you. “I’m down, any time I get to spend with you I am down for it” dean told you taking your hand in his placing a soft kiss to it “how about we crack open those beers over there eat some junk food and watch a little Dr sexy?” Dean suggested. You smiled and nodded your head “i love that idea” you leaned up to give him a quick kiss before he grabbed the goods.

You were hours into the doctor sexy marathon you and dean had unintentionally started. Deans arm hung loosely around your waist while you cuddled comfortably into his warm side, your leg wrapped loosely around deans hips. You looked up to see deans green eyes lolling to sleep slowly, still somewhat awake “dean?” You whispered, his eyes opened quickly and he let out a low “yeah?” And turned his gaze to you “why were you so nervous earlier? Before I went to Sam’s room?” He sighed his body tensing slightly under you “I just… I hated the idea of you talking to Sam about his little crush on you because well, your my girl… and I love you” dean rushed out the end and your head snapped up 

“You what?” You asked your chest suddenly feeling tighter like your heart was about to explode “i love you sweetheart” dean told you more clearly this time. A smile immediately overcame your face as you rushed down to press a hard kiss on deans lips. Dean responded right away, his hands wrapping around your hips to pull you on top of him… well more than you already were

You pulled back slightly from the kiss pressing your forehead against his “I love you too Dean Winchester, so fucking much baby” you giggled your lips brushing against his in each movement. Dean pulled you back into another deep kiss his big rough hands squeezed your ass before moving up your waist to pull your shirt off leaving you in your black lacy bra. Your squealed into deans mouth when he ripped your bra in half, pulling the ruined fabric off off your arms baring your breasts to him. Deans lips detached from your swollen ones, he attacked you chest immediately placing kissing app over your chest, sucking love marks all over you, especially on your sweet spot to mark his territory.

Sam who was in the next room slammed a pillow over his head to drown out your screams of pleasure, Sam lied to you earlier, he meant it when he said he was in love with you. But when he saw your panic and how you talked about your one for his brother he panicked and wanted to take each word back, that’s why when you mentioned it being confusion over his love for Jess he jumped at it. He would never do anything to hurt you or dean he loved you both way to much to ever even  think about doing that to either of you, that’s why he was just going to have to swallow his feelings and curse chuck for not having you both meet first. He wished every damn night that he met you before dean, constantly living in guilt Sam knew he had to take his feelings for you and bury them deep inside of him, a life with you was just wishful thinking for the younger Winchester. 

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

ALL MY OWN WORK I DO NOT GIVE CONSENT TO COPY OR PUBLISH ON OTHER SITES , I.E WATTPAD, ETC, WITHOUT MESSAGING TO ASK FIRST

next to be written is Sam Winchester, hero part 2, this was requested and I'm hoping to get it published soon, until then please enjoy :))

[mxltifxnd0m]

heaven's in your eyes യ s. winchester

summary: you and sam are in a sticky situation and there's only one way to get out of it

pairings: sam winchester x reader, sam winchester x fem! reader

word count: 3.4K

warnings: vaguely set in season 3/4, fluff, mutual pining, slight angst, teasing from dean, sam in a tux (yes that's a warning), kissing, suggestive/spice, implied smut but no smut

a/n: i've had this one stuck in the noggin for a while and finally got around to writing it! this was heavily inspired by and based on the mall scene in captain america TWS between steve and nat and 3x6 episode with bela.

reblog and comment on the fic! I love seeing your thoughts on it sm 😊

𝘴𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵

You never thought you'd be in this position in a million years, feeling the heat of Sam's hands seep into the fabric on your waist as he pulled you in closer, sliding his leg between yours as your back hit the wall. This is not what you had thought would happen when you decided to ask for the Winchesters' help on your hunt.

You had run into the Winchester brothers after you had "accidentally" killed the witch they had been hunting. You had no idea that the three of you were hunting the same witch, but you had gotten to her first. You had no clue that the Winchesters were in the same town as you. Your paths never crossed until they found you hunched over the witch's body, blood splattered over your face and clothes, with the living room of the witch in complete disarray.

You looked up from the dead witch to see two tall mountains dressed in leather and flannel standing in the doorway. You remembered their faces were screwed up with expressions of surprise and puzzlement as you stood up from the carpeted floor with a grin on your face.

"Seems I beat the two of you to it." You said to them, slightly out of breath, and stuck out a hand for them to shake, introducing yourself to the two men who you deduced to be hunters. You instantly noticed that they were gorgeous. They seemed to walk straight out of a GQ magazine. But the thing that gave away the fact that they were hunters was how they held themselves like soldiers (and the fact they had guns in their hands as they burst into the house like madmen).

Your eyes were drawn to the taller one of the two (they were both pretty tall, but you could have considered this one a giant). He had shaggy brown hair with bangs that you just knew that he had to brush away from his eyes frequently and a nose that, if you followed the slope of it, you could see how it came to a cute point at the end of it. What really entranced you was his hazel eyes that memorized you as soon as you made contact with them.

They introduced themselves as Dean and Sam, the latter being the one you found yourself attracted to the most as his warm hand engulfed yours as the two of you shook hands.

From then on, you guys seemed to cross paths at least once a month on a hunt. Whether it was a nest of vampires, a vengeful spirit, or a pack of werewolves, the Winchesters and you would end up in the same place and time and end up working together. There was this unspoken agreement that the three of you would work together if you so happened to be working the same hunt.

During these hunts, you found yourself pining over Sam Winchester. You didn't know how it happened at first (okay, you do know how it happened, but you didn't want to admit anything at first), but you noticed how kind and sweet Sam was. Sam's empathy and positivity were a stark contrast to the bleakness you were used to as you worked on hunts, but it was a breath of fresh air for you.

It didn't help that the two of you got along like a house on fire. You met someone who could understand your weird niche literary references, match you in a battle of wits, and actually enjoy learning and the research aspect of hunting. And your yearning for him didn't stop there because it didn't help that Sam was devastatingly handsome and, at his core, such a gentleman.

The realization that you liked Sam hit you like a ton of bricks. So, you did what you did best when it came to your feelings, you ran. You distanced yourself from them. You would purposely dodge their calls (Sam's mostly). It was a dick move, and you knew it since they were most likely calling for help, but you couldn't bring yourself to call back.

But with this particular hunt, you were stumped and needed help. You had tracked down a necklace from the late 17th century that led a trail of bodies behind it. You surmised that it was cursed, and you needed to get to it and burn it. The only problem was that it was sold to a small museum owner in an estate sale from the previous owner and was going to be displayed in the town's museum for its grand opening, with the necklace being the main exhibit. You had no way of getting it without being caught, so you needed extra hands.

You paced the length of the motel room you were staying out, biting your thumb as you debated on calling in for some help. You would have called Bobby for help, but you knew he would just send the Winchesters over to you anyway. After pacing around your room, you bit the bullet and called Dean.

"Well, isn't this a surprise sweetheart!" Dean's voice filtered through your ears, and you couldn't help the slight smile that grew on your face at the sound of his cheery tone (even if you could hear the undercurrent of smugness in his words).

"Hi Dean," You greeted with a chuckle as you sat down on the edge of the bed, the springs creaking slightly underneath your weight.

"I hate to admit it, but I need your help on this hunt I'm working on." You asked as you bit your bottom lip, waiting for his response.

"You're in luck. Sammy and I just wrapped up a hunt here, where are you anyway?"

You felt your heart start to beat faster at the mention of Sam, which made you roll your eyes at your reaction to just a name. You told him the town and the state the hunt was in, and you could practically hear the grin in his voice as Dean replied.

"We're not that far from you. Just a couple hours drive from you."

"Well, if you're up for it, I could really use the help."

"Oh, we'll be there, sweetheart. Text me the motel you're staying at and the room number, and I'll let you know when we get there."

"Will do." You told him, and the two of you said goodbye as you hung up the phone. You fell backward onto the bed with a loud exhale. At least you had a couple of hours to compose yourself and try to breathe normally. You found yourself always short of breath while Sam Winchester was in the vicinity of you (you should probably go to the doctor for that, but it's not like you had good health insurance for a physical).

A couple of hours later, you heard the familiar rumble of the Impala just outside of the motel room. You felt something flutter in your stomach when you realized that you'd be seeing Sam after three months of no contact. There was a knock at the door, and after checking through the peephole of the door, you unlocked and swung the door open to be greeted with the broad grin of Dean Winchester, his brother, standing right behind him with a smaller smile on his face.

Dean had pulled you into a short but warm hug and brushed past you into your room, making himself home as you gave Sam a hug in greeting, feeling his arms wrap around you and squeezing before letting go. You could have sworn his touch lingered as he entered your room. You bit your bottom lip and released it as you shut your door.

Once Sam and Dean were settled at the table in your motel room and you on the bed, you gave them the rundown of what the hunt was and what you needed to do to get rid of the necklace. You were so engrossed in explaining your research and what you found out that you didn't notice Sam's eyes trained on you the entire time, a fond smile on his face as he listened to you talk.

"Not that we're not happy to see you, but this seems like a one-person job?" Dean questioned.

"That's what I thought too, but I found out that the necklace was going to be the main exhibit for the museum and unveiled at the end of the night. I was going to knab it beforehand, but this museum has pretty good security, and as much as I'm good at sneaking around, I don't have the measures to handle them without backup."

"We're just backup then? Oh, that hurts more than you could imagine sweetheart," Dean pretended to get shot in the heart, dramatically holding his chest.

You chuckled at Dean before you looked at Sam at that moment and caught him rolling his eyes at his brother.

"Quit being dramatic Dean," Sam said before his eyes met yours. "We'll help in anyway we can." The soft smile that was on his lips made you melt inside.

You smiled back at Sam. "Thanks, but there's another thing, it's a black-tie event." You winced a bit at your own words.

Dean groaned. "You're telling me I have to wear a tux?"

You scoffed at Dean's whining. "At least you could still hunt in a tux, wearing a dress makes it a little more difficult to move in."

A salacious grin made its way onto Dean's face. "Ah, but it's easier access if you know what I mean." He winked at you, and one of the pillows from the bed hit his face. You heard Sam chuckle, making your smile widen.

"Shut up, Dean. It's late, and the event is tomorrow. So you guys need to buy a suit and I need to go out and buy a dress." You all but shooed the brothers out of your room and bid each other good night.

Morning came faster than you anticipated, and the three of you went out for breakfast at the nearest diner before you guys went shopping for the outfits you needed for tonight.

"So, I was thinking, if the event is black-tie, wouldn't it mean this is invite only?" Sam asked while the three of you were eating.

You swallowed thickly and nodded. "Yeah, I was able to get two tickets, both of them with plus ones." The sweet old lady who ran the motel had given them to you, saying that she was too old to go and wanted to give them someone. She had given them to you since you had mentioned offhandly that you wanted to visit the museum after it opened.

"Good, I'll take the other ticket and Sammy here can be your plus one." Dean said with a wide smile as he patted Sam's shoulder. Your eyes widened at Dean's words, seeing the mischief glint in his green eyes.

You pursed your lips and looked at Sam. He had an unreadable face and looked everywhere but at you.

You cleared your throat to grab his attention. "Is that okay with you Sam?"

Sam finally looked at you and hummed. "Sorry, what?"

"Are you okay with being my date to the museum?" You clarified.

Sam nodded, his hair falling into his eyes as he did. "Yeah, it's okay." He reassured you, and the temptation to brush it away for him was at an all-time high. You couldn't help but feel a little disappointed when he did it himself.

From there, the three of you finished your breakfast and went out and shopped for your dresses and tuxedos, respectively. You had found a beautiful spaghetti-strap green dress; the neckline came at a v, exposing a large portion of your collarbone and chest, a slit on either side of the dress that went up to your midthigh. There was an open back that stopped right above your lower back. This was the first time in years you would wear a dress, and when you tried it on in the store, you couldn't help but get it.

Once you guys were done shopping, you went back to the motel to get ready. Dean teased you about how girls take longer, but you didn't dignify his teasing with a response. With a roll of your eyes and a wave of your hand, you went into your motel room to get ready and informed the boys to be prepared by 6:30 since the event started at 7.

You took a shower, shaved everything, and slipped into the dress. You did your makeup, and it was a little heavier than usual, having put some eyeshadow on your lids, smoking it out, eyeliner, and some lipstick to tie the look together. With your hair, you french braided the front of it, leaving some framing pieces out, and then took the rest of your hair and pulled it into a bun at the nape of your neck.

There was a knock on your door as you finished up, and you quickly left the bathroom and opened the motel door to see Sam and Dean in their tuxes. They both looked handsome, but your breath caught as you stared at Sam. His hair was relatively the same; it was just combed down, and some product was used to tame it. His suit fit him like a glove, and you gripped the door a little tighter as your eyes roamed his figure.

"Wow," Dean breathed out, breaking you out of your little trance. "You look great." Dean said with a genuine smile on his face. His compliment made you smile.

"Thanks Dean. You look pretty good too."

Dean scoffed playfully. "Just good? I think the words you're looking for are handsome, jaw-droppingly attractive or you know any adjective that means hot."

"Right," You drawled out. "Why would I lie to you?" You smiled sarcastically at him and laughed when his smile dropped into a scowl.

"I'll be in the car." He grumbled before stalking off to the parking lot and to the Impala.

You and Sam laughed at Dean before the two of you settled into an awkward silence.

You smiled tightly at him. "Let me get my bag and we can go."

Sam nodded, and you quickly grabbed your bag. You exited the room and locked the motel door once it closed. The two of you walked to the Impala and got in.

Once you had entered the museum, you knew you were doomed. Sam was acting like a perfect gentleman and date, always having a hand on you at all times, whether it be at the small of your back or your arm hooked around his as you walked around the ornate museum.

"I didn't get to say this earlier, but you look beautiful." Sam had whispered into your ear as the two of you walked into the museum, and you almost tripped on your kitten heels because of the sudden compliment. You felt your cheeks warm as you quietly thanked him.

The three of you decided to walk the museum and tried to find the necklace before it could be unveiled to the public. Dean had the first floor, while you and Sam had the second floor. Most of the second floor was the other exhibits the museum had. But you eventually found the necklace behind a locked room. Sam picked the lock to the door and saw the necklace in the corner of the room. The two of you carefully grabbed the necklace from the mannequin neck it was displayed on and put it in your bag.

Before you guys could get out of the room, you heard heavy footsteps heading your way. You started to panic internally as Sam looked at you urgently.

"Kiss me." You blurted out.

Sam's eyes widened. "What?"

"Look, we don't have a way out without being caught and public displays of affection make people very uncomfortable."

"Yeah, they do. Are you sure?"

You heard the footsteps get closer and closer, and you quickly pulled Sam down by his neck and placed your lips on his. Sam's hands found your waist as he pulled you in closer to his broad figure but also moved you backward until your bare back hit the wall.

His lips were soft and warm as they moved against yours, and you couldn't help but feel warmth fill your chest as you kissed him. Your hands made their way up his chest and wound up on his shoulder and hair, making him scoot closer to you, his leg fitting through the gap between your open ones and gasping into his lips as his thigh pressed against your core.

The door opened, and the both of you pulled away, slightly out of breath, and turned to see Dean grinning widely in the doorway.

"Well, as much as I love to see the two of you work your feelings out for each other, we need to leave before we get caught stealing a necklace."  

Your heart starts to beat faster than it already was at Dean's words. Sam had feelings for me? You thought to yourself as you looked at Sam, who was already looking back at you and seemed to think about the same thing.

Sam leaned down. "We'll talk at the motel." He whispered in your ear before pulling away and sending you a smile. You nodded and followed him out of the room, Dean leading the charge out of the museum.

You were nervous and antsy the entire ride back to the motel, having destroyed the necklace in the woods right beside the museum. You stared at the back of Sam's head as Dean drove, wondering what the hell was going through his head.

When you guys made it back, Sam had you followed back to your room. Dean noticed, and he started to make some teasing remarks about the two of you to keep it down. All you and Sam did was flip him off and go into your room.

After the door shut, you and Sam were standing in the middle of the room, staring at each other in a charged silence. You don't know who moved first, but the two of you were entangled in one another, hands pulling at clothes, lips, and teeth on jawlines and neck. Hips grinding into one another, low moans and groans filled the air as the two shared a passionate embrace.

Later, after the two of you cleaned up, you were tucked into Sam's side, resting your head on his bare chest, absentmindedly tracing his tattoo with your fingertip. At the same time, his hand trailed up and down your arm and shoulder and kissed your hair occasionally as the two of you basked in the comfortable silence.

"This isn't a one time thing for me you know?" Sam's voice broke through the calmness of the quiet room.

You turned your head to look up at him. "Really?" You asked him, and you could feel the corner of your lips threaten to twitch up into a smile.

Sam nodded a sheepish smile on his face. "I know I don't have the best track record, but I really like you." He said with a slight blush beginning to grow on his cheeks.

Sam had told you about his experiences with love in a late-night conversation you two had shared a couple of months ago. You could understand since you also didn't have the best experiences with love either and confided in each other about it.

But at Sam's admission, you couldn't help but smile widely as Sam. You moved from Sam's side to straddle his hips. He sat up a little, and you threw your arms over his shoulders.

"Well, you're in luck because I really like you too Sam Winchester." You leaned closer and brushed your lips over his.

You felt Sam grin as you pecked his lips. "Really?" He teased, his hands resting on your bare hips as he slowly moved them against his growing bulge under the sheets.

You kissed him hard before trailing your lips down his jaw and neck. "How about I just show you?" You mumbled against his collarbone and nipped at it before your lips trailed lower and lower down his body.

Maybe calling the Winchesters for help wasn't a bad idea at all.

[happy74827]

Forced to Listen

[Dean Winchester x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Dean hated it when you hunted him down for advice, and he also hated that you knew exactly how to bait him into listening.

WC: 1082

Category: Fluff, Ranter!Reader, Mentions of Cheating, Sam being absolutely useless (iconic).

Can you believe that it’s been TWO WHOLE YEARS since I last wrote of him?? I’m so angry at myself 😭😭

『••✎••』

Dean could sense what was coming when he watched you stomp towards him with nothing but a small bottle of beer. The look on your face was one he had come to recognize over the years.

It was the one that said that you were about to coerce him into listening to your woes, and he had no other choice but to do it. The heat outside was unbearable, the kind that made Dean strip off his flannel and ditch the leather jacket, leaving him in his sweat-covered shirt.

But as he stood under the hood of the Impala, trying to get her to start, that bottle of beer was calling his name. The promise of the cool, carbonated drink sliding down his throat, relieving him from the dryness that had settled in his mouth, was something he desperately craved. And you knew that. That's why you were headed straight for him.

"Hey, Dean," you said innocently, the small bottle of beer dangling from your hand.

Dean sighed, his gloved hands pausing as he glanced up at you. He really wasn’t in the mood to listen to you whine about what was going on in your life, but that bottle of beer was too tempting to pass up. It was his favorite brand, too.

Goddamn it, you really were a temptress.

"Two minutes,” he grunted out, holding his hand out for the beer. "I'll give you two minutes."

You grinned, placing the bottle of beer in his open hand. In a matter of seconds, half the liquid was gone, and you were waiting impatiently for him to give you the sign to begin.

After another second, a sigh of content slipped from his mouth, and he nodded, signaling you to start.

You didn’t waste any time. "Do you think I'm a bitch?"

"I think you're a pain in my ass," Dean retorted, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand. It didn’t make much difference since his hand was already covered in dirt and grease, but it made him feel a little better. "Don’t tell me you came over here just to ask me that?"

"No, I'm serious, Dean," you insisted. "Do you actually think I'm a bitch?"

You were staring up at him now, the look on your face completely unreadable. You were waiting for an answer, but he had a feeling that no matter what answer he gave, it wouldn't make a difference.

So, he just raised his eyebrows, silently telling you to go on while he took another sip of his beer.

"Dating's hard, Dean," you started, and he already felt a groan coming on. He did not want to have this conversation. "I just don't get it. Why am I not good enough for them? Why do I keep getting cheated on?"

You were pacing around the car as you spoke, and Dean kept his eyes on the beer. As you went on about everything that was bothering you, the more he regretted his decision to drink that damn thing.

"Am I not attractive? Am I not smart enough? What is it, Dean?" You looked at him, hoping for an answer. But when you realized he wasn't paying that much attention to what you were saying, you let out a scoff. "Great, so I'm not even good enough for you to listen to me? God, Dean, you are such a douche."

Dean rolled his eyes and finally looked up at you, the annoyance clearly visible. "Can I get back to fixing up my baby, now?"

"Would you date me?" You asked, suddenly, a hint of desperation in your voice. "Am I worth dating?"

God, you were killing him. He’d rather get heatstroke than continue this conversation, and he was sure Sammy would agree on his behalf.

He could actually see his baby brother from where he stood. He was a few yards away, sitting in the shade. A book in his hand, but his eyes were on the two of you.

Was he…? Oh hell no.

He was laughing.

Sammy was having a good time watching him squirm under your gaze, doing absolutely nothing despite avoiding the work Bobby needed help with.

Oh, was Dean pissed off. He’d get his payback soon, hopefully. It would be whenever he actually gets away from you and fixes up his car. Baby always comes first.

"I mean, c'mon, Dean," you pressed on. "Just give me some advice. You were with so many women, and they were all beautiful and perfect, so what's wrong with me?"

You were pouting, and Dean felt like throwing his beer bottle on the ground and stomping on it. This was the worst two minutes of his life.

"There’s nothing wrong with you,” he finally said, looking you in the eye. "You could be a pain in the ass, but unfortunately, I’m apparently the only one who has to deal with it, so... yeah. You're fine."

"Fine? I'm fine?"

"Yup," Dean replied. He turned back to the Impala, taking the last swig of his beer and tossing the empty bottle into your hands. "Thanks for the beer. Is that all?”

"I just feel… I don't know. I feel like I'm not good enough, ya know?" You said a sad look on your face. "Like there's something wrong with me. Something that's making everyone leave me."

"Listen," Dean started. He looked at you again, but all of his annoyance was gone. The two minutes were definitely up; he could quite literally kick you out of sight, but with the look you had on your face, he just couldn’t do it.

So, despite Sam’s utter lack of help, he was going to do his best to try to make you feel better.

"It's not you, alright?" He assured. "There's nothing wrong with you. If a guy can't see that, then he doesn't deserve you, okay? Trust me, you will have no problem finding someone else."

The corners of your lips twitched, turning into a small smile. "Yeah?"

Dean nodded, giving you a smirk. "If you want, I could always give out the ole hunter's special with your past one. Bobby could use a new rug for his living room."

A loud snort slipped past your mouth, and Dean was satisfied.

"Okay, Winchester," you said. "This is my sign to get the hell out of here."

And so you did, but before you could get even slightly close to the house, he called out to you.

"Oh, and by the way," he said, a small smile forming on his face. If you thought it was going to be wholesome, then you were sorely mistaken.

"Next time you come to me to talk about your feelings, at least have a damn pie."

[alexsoenomel]

Seven Minutes In Heaven Ruined (Dean Winchester x Reader Smut)

Summary: You and Dean are horny and Sam doesn't know how to knock.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: oral female and male receiving

Word count: 1.2k

Note: This is an old one. I made it readable because teenage me didn't know how to words.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)  

After finishing the last case you realized two things.

One, you were tired as fuck.

And two, you were hungry as fuck.

After a warm shower you put on one of Dean’s flannels, and went to the kitchen to make yourself dinner. Your sweet tooth was craving blueberry pancakes. While you were making the pancake mix, you felt arms around your waist pulling you closer. 

“Hey, sweetheart!” He said, and kissed your cheek.

“Hi handsome.” You smiled. You haven’t seen Dean in almost a week. He was pretty sick with a fever, so you and Sam went without him on a hunt in San Francisco – vampires, your favorite. He needed to sit this one out, even though he protested like a damn child saying he was fine while not being able to stand. When you got back he was asleep in his room so you didn’t want to interrupt whatever he was dreaming about. 

 “How are you feeling?” 

“A lot better now that you are here.” He said leaving small kisses on your neck. You tilted your head giving him more access. His kisses would always make you shiver. “I missed you.” 

“Missed you too, handsome. Are you hungry? I’m making pancakes.” 

“I am hungry.” Dean’s hand went on your inner thigh until it reached your panties slowly rubbing you, making you sigh. Cheeky bastard – you thought. “But I don’t want pancakes.” He whispered into your ear. "I love when you wear my clothes.”

“Sleeping.” 

You tried to mix flour, eggs and whatever else that was in there but the urge for Dean’s touch grew and you suddenly had another need to fulfill. You turned around to face him, putting your arms around his neck.

“Where’s Sam?” He asked. 

“Good.”  He lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him, making you blush. You pulled his shirt only craving the softness of his lips on yours.  Seven long days without him felt like an eternity, especially at night – he was your home, your habit and your sanctuary. You kissed him softly and soon enough he deepened the kiss making you moan. When he stole the last breath from your lungs you broke away, resting your forehead on his. 

“Bedroom?” You smiled. 

“Hell yeah.”

His clothes hit the floor in seconds. Seven days without each other turned you into horny teenagers. He was only in his boxers laying on the bed looking at you, admiring the view and wondering how the hell he got so lucky.  You climbed on top of him as he slowly started to undo your shirt – taking his sweet time savoring you. Infatuated by you, Dean’s eyes spoke louder than words and in that very moment you only existed for him. You kissed him like it was the end of the world, and funny thing was, at one point it was actually the end of the world, so nothing mattered anyways. The world could be burning and you wouldn’t care.

Once he exposed you completely, we flipped you over and you were now completely under his control. His hands could kill and yet he was so gentle with you, trying not to break you, even though you wouldn’t mind being broken by him from time to time.

“Dean, don’t tease.” You sigh. 

Dean consumed you in every way there was. His lips needed to touch you, to feel you and you were desperate to feel him on your skin. Starting from your neck he kissed you, sucking and slightly biting, leaving light bruises all over. He then moved his lips lower and lower.

You became inpatient, needy and a little bit frustrated. His kisses had you under his spell but you wanted more. He kissed you through your black panties a few times, driving you mad.

You could feel him smirking while resting his lips on the fabric of your soaking underwear. 

“Dean!” You blissfully moaned. “ Oh my god!” 

“Just a little bit. “ He smirked and then took off your panties. You lifted your legs as he did it. His face went between your legs yet again and now you could only feel his warm tongue on your already wet cunt.

You closed your eyes, surrendering completely.  

“Shhhh we don’t want to wake up my brother, don’t we sweetheart?”

“No, but you’re going to kill me.” 

The wet sounds of your cunt filled the room as he added one finger first, pumping in and out slowly before adding another. He was aware you were addicted to his thick fingers, always so needy and desperate to have them in your pussy or in your mouth. You gripped the bed sheets as your breaths became heavy, feeling your climax deep in the lower part of your stomach. Before Dean it would take you ages to cum, and you always thought maybe the problem was you and not the other person you were sleeping with. After Dean, you realized that was bullshit and you just had a shitty taste in picking partners. 

His name was like a prayer you were reciting over and over again until you couldn’t take it anymore. The orgasm took over your body completely as you screamed his name one last time before his hand violently covered your mouth. 

He got up, face shining from your juices with a smile on his face.

“You’re crazy. Sam’s going to hear you!” 

“You are so…” You said, trying to catch your breath. 

“Amazing?” He laughed. 

“And full of yourself Winchester.” You rolled your eyes, still painting.

“Oh well thank you.” Dean said moving next to you. 

“Where is the damn condom?” Dean asked, searching through the drawer of his night stand. You giggled. The man never assumed or expected you to return the favor. Your pleasure was far more important than his own and taking care of you was his job and duty. You loved that about him, you loved being taken care of, but you also loved making him fall apart under you.  

“Dean?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Come here.” 

He turned to face you. “Huh?” 

You kissed him. “My turn.” Dean bit his lip as you rubbed him through his boxers. 

“S-shit!” He moaned. “Baby!”

You placed light kisses all over his body before your lips reached the hem of his underwear. You took them off, drooling over his already hard cock. You licked the tip a few times as Dean groaned.

You smiled loving the effect you had on him and then took him in your mouth as much as you could. 

His heaven didn’t last long because Sam decided to interrupt the pure bliss of having Dean’s cock in your mouth...yet again.

“Hey Dean can you- AH CRAP.” He said and immediately turned his back allowing you two to cover yourself.  “I’m sorry.”

“Fuck not again.” You laughed.

You jumped under the covers with Dean. “SAMMY I SWEAR I’M GONNA KILL YOU!”  

“I’m sorry.” Sammy said awkwardly, still refusing to turn around. “But I found us a case.” 

“I thought you were sleeping.” You said. 

“I couldn’t….you were…a little bit…..loud.” 

“So you heard her making happy noises IN MY ROOM and you still decided to come in?! WITHOUT KNOCKING? AGAIN?” 

“After 10 minutes I thought…you were…finished.” He ran his hand through his hair. “I will wait in the living room.” He then slammed the door. 

“I will kill him.” Dean said and got off the bed. 

“Wait.” You said pulling his arm. “He can wait. I’m not done with you!”

“I love you. “ Dean said and kissed you again.

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐈𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍: Make-Up Sex w/ Dean Winchester

a/n: now that i feel better, though still albeit exhausted, i'm now literally running, jumping, fucking skipping to get caught up because somehow october decided to actually speed run its own month like the hell???

masterlist | kinktober masterlist | AO3

Being with Dean Winchester was challenging at times, because no matter how much he trusts you or how good things really are, he's always expecting the rug to be pulled out from under him. Even if sometimes he is the metaphorical rug.

You've had many arguments before, but none of them have hurt like this. You often found yourself in bed alone, usually because the boys were out hunting or catching up on lore, and you were honestly okay with that because duh— they were saving the world! But, sometimes you missed having some cuddle time with your boyfriend, but apparently he did not feel the same.

When you came to peel him away from whatever article he was reading on the computer, he snapped at you, saying some things that were very unnecessary. It had sent you back to bed angrier and more hurt than you had ever been before.

It only took a few minutes of harsh silence before he came stomping down the hallway and into your shared room. You didn't dare move a muscle, remaining on your side with your arms crossed and glare settled on the wall in front of you.

He took a moment to kick off his shoes and shuck off his flannel before shuffling into bed behind you, a heavy hand resting on your plush hip that was covered by the duvet.

"Sweetheart…" He began. "Go away, Dean." You said coldly, unravelling your arms to shove his hand off of you. 

"Look— I'm sorry." He rasped quietly. "Could've fooled me." He sighed. "I— didn't mean what I said, I'm just… tired. This case has been whoppin' me and Sammy's ass." He explained. "I just wanna catch this thing before it kills anyone else, and I ended up taking my anger out on you and you didn't deserve it," Dean took your body relaxing as a sign to be able to spoon you. "Fuck, honey. I'm sorry."

You chewed on your bottom lip thoughtfully. A part of you didn't want to give in, but the other part acknowledges that Dean never apologises unless he really means it.

"You really hurt my feelings, you know?" You whispered meekly. "I know baby, I know." He murmured into your neck.

You basked in his closeness, in the strength of his arm wrapped around your softened midsection. You shivered when you felt him place gentle kisses onto the exposed skin of your neck, the arm holding you pressed your back harder onto his chest.

"Let me take care'a you." He said seductively, his palm slipping up to cup your braless breast. You whimpered at the feeling, but nonetheless grinded back on his growing bulge as he stimulated your nipples.

"Please." You breathlessly begged. 

He was quick to turn you on your back, lips slamming down on yours. He devoured your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance as his fingers slipped beneath the hem of your pajama shorts. He groaned lowly at the fact that you had no panties on.

"Was this what you were gonna give me to make me feel better?" He asked with an amused smirk painted on his lips. Your skin flushed but you nodded shyly. "If it would have helped you, yeah." You confessed sheepishly. "Can't believe I was such an asshole to my sweet girl." 

His fingers teased your damp folds, sliding a finger between them to collect your slick before prodding at your entrance. Your breath caught in your throat, a small whine leaving you as he joined your lips together once more.

It was as though he was trying to destroy you from the inside-out. His strong fingers worked your entrance open, the man slipping in a second finger. Your legs twitched around his arm, loud mewls passing between the both of you whenever he'd hit your g-spot. 

You pulled away from your spit soaked kiss to cry out. "Dean, baby, 'm gonna cum!" 

He slipped in a third and final finger. He twisted his wrist torturously, his thumb reaching up to rub furiously at your clit. Your hand gripped desperately at his wrist, holding it to your body as you desperately rode his hand. 

"There you go, sweetheart. There ya go." He talked you through your orgasm. "Dean… Dean…" All you could whimper was his name.

"Fuck." You heaved after taking a few moments to catch your breath. "You okay?" He asked gruffly. You nodded your head, your own fingers tangling themselves up in his spiky hair. 

"I need you in me." You said as you cradled the back of his head. "Don't know if I deserve it." It sounded as if the big bad Dean Winchester was actually pouting! 

"Ugh, just c'mere." You said with a grin, tugging your boyfriend over your body. "If you don't fuck me, then I'll be sad again. How does that sound?" You asked playfully. "Not good." He murmured with a matching grin.

He was quick to take off his jeans, practically falling over himself to get naked as you finally stripped yourself of your own as well. Both of you were as naked as the day you were born by the time he had his cock lined up to your entrance.

His tip teased your clit, which caused you to whine in displeasure. "Dean…" He chuckled lightly. "Sorry, honey." 

With his hands on either side of your head, he entered you, your head falling back in pleasure at the feeling.

"Jesus." He groaned. "Feels so good, baby." He praised. Tiny whimpers left you as he bottomed out, sheathed all the way to the hilt as your velvety walls fluttered around him selfishly.

"Shit! Please move." You begged. 

Dean would be damned if you had to beg for fucking anything tonight. Pulling out slowly, he slammed his hips into yours. A loud smack! Resounded throughout the room, a choked moan slipping out of you.

"Ah!" His tip brushed against your g-spot pleasurably. Your nails dug into his back as he pounded into you, holding onto the older man for dear life as he continually stretched you out.

Your velvety walls sucked him in greedily, like they were practically trying to keep him inside of you. You could feel that familiar coil in your stomach tighten continuously, a feeling that Dean had made sure you were familiar with for the past years that you've been with him.

Your pussy burned with overstimulation as you neared your end, and it made it harder for Dean to move in and out of you.

"You gonna cum, baby?" He asked through gritted teeth. "Y— yes!" You stuttered. "Cum for me then, sweetheart." Your hand slipped down to rub at your clit hurriedly, your back arching at the overwhelming feeling.

"Fuck!" You swore as you came, your chest pressed against Dean's. One of his arms held himself up as the other stretched over your back to keep your plush upper body anchored to him as you rode out your high.

"Holy shit." You gasped, your chest heaved with each quick breath you attempted to take. 

"Best apology ever." You said with a hazy laugh.

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[kaleldobrev]

Stupidest Person Alive

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a near death experience in which you almost lost Dean, you tell him that you can’t risk losing him again.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Cursing (9x), Fluff, Soft!Dean, Parent!Dean

Authors Note: I refuse to accept the canon ending of Supernatural after all these years | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You don’t know the exact amount of time you’ve been sitting in this uncomfortable hospital chair, curled up, huddled underneath a random flannel of Dean’s that was in a duffel bag in the trunk of Baby. You rubbed your eyes, trying to get rid of the sleepiness; surprised that you even managed to get a wink of sleep.

The last few days have honestly been some of the worst days of your life, as you were told by doctor after doctor that Dean’s condition didn’t seem to be getting any better. It stayed the same, which was a good and bad thing. He was in and out of consciousness, barely awake long enough to have a conversation. His eyes would just flutter open and he would briefly look at you. And you would smile at him, and he would do the same. His lips always looking like he was about to say something but he never did as his eyes just shut again. Each and every time his eyes shut, a part of you hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time.

The last few days have given you a lot of time to reflect, reflect about your time as a hunter; thinking about all of the good you have done, but also thinking about all of the times you’ve nearly died or have actually died. In the words of Dorothy, “you’re not a real hunter unless you’ve come back from the dead.” And you, Sam, and Dean have come back from the dead more times than you could count at this point, but you’re pretty sure Dean had the highest death count.

“Not awake yet?” Sam asked, two Styrofoam cups of coffee in hand.

“No,” you answered as he handed you one of the cups, “Thanks.”

“I’m surprised you fell asleep,” he said, taking a spot in the chair next to yours.

“How long was I out for?” You asked, taking a sip from your coffee. You hated the taste of hospital coffee, but the caffeine it contained had to do for now.

“Only half an hour,” he stated.

“You get any?” He shook his head. “You really need to get at least a little rest. We’re no help to Dean tired.”

Sam couldn’t help but agree, but he had the same mind set as you; he wanted to be awake when Dean woke up. “I’ll sleep when I know he’s okay,” he said, stubborn as he usually was.

When Dean finally woke, he didn’t really know where he was. But all he knew was that the lights were too bright for him. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he squinted, trying to adjust. “Fuck these lights are bright,” he said weakly.

You almost had wanted to laugh, hearing Dean say these words. The man had been out for the last few days and the first thing he had to comment on was the fucking brightness of the lights. But if you were being honest, it was pretty on brand for him. “Hey Sleepy Head,” you said, getting up from the hospital chair.

“Hey there Sweetheart,” he smiled. “Sam with you?”

“Yeah, just talking to one of the doctors,” you said. You took his hand and held it in yours, and all Dean could do was just stare at your face, admiring it like he was just seeing you for the first time.

“How long was I out?” He asked. “My head and stomach are fucking killing me.”

"A few days," you replied. "To be fair, you've been on pain killers pretty much the whole time and not a lot of actual food in your stomach."

"When we get out of here, can we go get a couple of cheeseburgers?" He asked, grinning at you.

"Of course we can," you smiled.

"So, I really fucked my body up bad this time uh?" He asked, letting out a small chuckle.

“If you call nearly killing yourself fucking up your body than yes,” you said, no humor in your voice. He could tell that you were pissed. “You know Dean, I love you, but you’re honestly the stupidest fucking person alive.”

“Love you too Sweetheart,” he grinned.

“I’m serious. I thought I fucking lost you for good this time. Me and Sam…” you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. There was no point in getting upset, no point in being mad at Dean. “We thought you were dead, dead this time.”

Dean looked at your face, hearing the sound of your voice, and it started to break his heart. He didn’t realize how much pain his actions had caused you and Sam over the course of the last few days. When he killed that vamp the way that he did, he wasn’t thinking about himself in that moment, wasn’t thinking about you or Sam. All he could think about was killing that vamp with the items that he had surrounding him. Being resourceful was one of his most useful and best qualities (at least he seemed to think so). “I’m sorry I scared you…and Sam.”

“It’s not your fault Dean I’m just…I was so fucking scared,” you felt yourself about to cry, but you didn’t want to tear up. “You and Sam are all I have left.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” he tried reassuring you, but he knew his words weren’t going to stick.

“But I almost did. And I can’t…I can’t have that again,” you said, your voice slightly shaking. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” He was afraid to ask, hoping this wasn’t you cutting and running. But he wouldn’t blame you if you did. You deserved a far better life than what he could give you. And despite him loving you, he wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

“Hunting.” A wave of relief washed over Dean. “We’ve died so many fucking times. More than, more than anyone. And, I know as hunters we save people, save people from all the monsters in the world but, I’m tired. I’m tired of the constant moving. The constant fighting. The constant looking over my shoulder.” Like the Winchesters, hunting was the only life you had ever known, but having a life away from the monsters and demons was something that you had dreamed of. And it was a dream that you had pictured doing with Dean; it was something the two of you often talked about.

“Okay,” was all Dean said to your speech. He agreed with all of it, and you knew that he did, as having a life away from hunting was something you two often talked about. But neither of you ever thought that it would be possible for you, as this was really the only life either of you really knew. “As soon as I get out of here, we’re done. And done for good this time.”

Five Years Later…

The aroma of your homemade chicken noodle soup filled the air as you did another few stirs in the pot on the stove. You heard the front door open and close, and you smiled, quickly wiping your hands on your kitchen towel. “Honey we’re home!” Dean yelled, his voice cheerful as always.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” Your daughter yelled, her voice equally as joyful as her fathers as she ran to meet you in the kitchen.

Her arms opened up wide as you went down on your knees to greet her at her level, the two of you embracing each other. “Hi baby,” you smiled, kissing her on the top of the head.

“Hold me?” She asked, giving similar looking puppy dog eyes to that of her Uncle Sam’s.

“Always,” you said, picking her up in your arms. “How did you do at the doctors?”

“I was very brave,” she answered. She pointed to a sparkly strawberry sticker on her shirt. “The doctor gave me this because I did a really good job,” she said and then looked over at Dean. “Right daddy?”

“Bravest kid there,” he smiled. “Doctor even told her she’s her favorite patient.”

“Favorite patient uh?” You smiled. “Now that’s really something,” you said, giving her another kiss on her temple.

“Mom, after dinner can you and daddy tell me some more of those spooky stories?” Your daughter asked. You smiled, and so did Dean. The spooky stories that she was referencing were all of the hunts that you and Dean had been on throughout the years, but it was something that you never straight out told her (not yet at least, the both of you wanted to keep her as naive as long as possible). You never used either of your names, or Sam’s, you always changed the names, but these were stories that she had grown to love, and always expected a new one every single time. Thankfully, but not too thankfully, you and Dean were always able to tell her something new as the two of you had decades worth of hunts between you.

“Of course, what do you wanna hear about today?” Dean asked.

Your daughter thought for a moment, putting her thinking cap on until a lightbulb in her little head appeared; the biggest grin on her face. “Ghosts!”

You and Dean exchanged looks, almost thankful that she picked an easy topic for todays story. “How would you like to hear about the Van Ness House?” You asked her.

“It sounds spooky already!” She beamed.

Five years you and Dean, along with Sam and Eileen have been living the domestic life, none of you have hunted for the last five years. In all honesty, you were surprised that you and Dean had managed not to hunt, as hunting was something that the two of you had only known. When Dean told you five years ago that he was done with hunting for good because you said you were done, there was a part of you that didn’t believe him, as the last time he said he was done he got roped back in (which meant you got roped back in), when the both of you found out that Sam had returned from the pit.

But these last five years have been life changing for the both of you, as not only did the two of you have a beautiful daughter together, but you were happily married in addition to that — two things that neither of you ever thought would happen nor would ever be possible.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

[blakelysco-pilot]

Wake Up Call

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Reader

Rating: Mature (this is just PWP)

Summary: Dean and the Reader find themselves with a moment alone in the Impala, and Reader makes sure they take advantage of it.

I wouldn’t admit it to anyone but, some nights I enjoyed curling up with Dean and sleeping in the Impala. When a motel was just too far of a drive, or he got that itch to do something spontaneous, the two of us would more often than not end up curled up together in the back seat. He’d wrap us both in an old blanket that he had stashed in the trunk; somewhere between the holy oil and witch killing bullets, we would manage a romantic moment alone.

There was one exception, however, and that was when Sam was with us. It was no longer romantic, the car just became a motel on wheels. Sam would stretch himself out in the back and we’d pass beers back and forth between us, share some mindless chatter, and then the sound of Sam snoring would eventually lull us both to a mediocre sleep. Dean and I would struggle to find a spot in the front where the steering wheel wasn’t pressing into his ribs, or the emergency brake handle wasn't poking into the small of my back.

This was one of those mornings. I stirred from sleep, and as my eyes adjusted to the light, I realized I was laying on the front seat, legs tucked up, head in Dean’s lap. Looking up, I took a moment to admire his sharp jaw and the slope of his nose as his breathing came in steady inhales and exhales. I always thought he was handsome, but when he was asleep and the weight of his troubles weren’t crushing him…he was even more so. It was then I realized he had slept sitting up, head back and neck bent. He would be howling about it for days.

Gently, I slid my hand over his thigh, my other hand bracing against the top of the seat as I took a careful peek into the back seat. I expected to find Sam, awkwardly bent with his flannel balled up behind his head, but was surprised to find that the back seat of the Impala was empty, save for Sam’s flannel from the night before and a half empty bottle of mouth wash. Grinning, I decided to steal a few moments of quiet with my favorite person, in our favorite place.

“Dean…”

“Hnfg… no.”

“Dean…” I tried again, letting my fingers dance over his stomach and up, under the hem of his black T-shirt.

Just as I moved in to press my lips against his, his hand came down over my wrist and stopped me from exploring his skin any further. One of his jade green eyes opened, looking at me wildly, as if to ask how I could be so mean and torture him while his brother was asleep not five feet away.

“Relax… it’s just us…” I grinned.

“Where’d he go?”

“Don’t know… don’t care at the moment… I’m alone with you.”

He gently released his grip on my wrist, and opened his other eye before grinning brightly.

“Then feel free to continue,” he husked, bringing a hand up to thread through my hair. “This is my favorite kind of wake up call.”

I just smiled as he used the hand in my hair to guide my lips back to his. When his lips finally pressed against mine, it felt as if I was floating, and the only thing keeping me tethered to the earth was Dean holding me against him.

“I know you want to take your time and enjoy this but…” I murmured against his lips, hands fumbling with his belt while his moved to hastily untuck my shirt and pop the button on my jeans.

“Baby, you know I love it any way I can get it with you,” Dean smirked. “It’s always good.”

He made quick work of shoving his jeans and boxers down just far enough to expose his hardening length, his head falling back against the seat as I quickly kicked off my boots and shimmied out of my jeans and underwear.

“I’d tell you to take your top off but…”

“Later,” I promised, grabbing a fistful of his black T-shirt and tugging him over to the passenger side of the car.

Dean quickly yanked his own flannel off, balling it up and putting it behind my head with a not so subtle wink, before descending; one knee on the bench seat, the other leg planted firmly on the floor. His hands slipped behind my thighs, pulling me as close as possible before stopping; his eyes were half lidded but focused on me as one hand slid up, past my knee, up, up, up until he was able to cup my jaw, thumb running idly over my bottom lip.

“I never get tired of seeing you like this.” “Could say the same about you, Handsome.” I grinned, the words turning to a moan as Dean shifted his hips forward until he was buried to the hilt.

“Fuck, thats the best feeling.” He groaned, dropping his head to my shoulder.

“Reminds me of when you whisked me away for a joyride when we were kids.” I sighed, pushing a hand into his hair, nails scratching against his scalp.

“Except we were in the backseat and parked by the beach… way more romantic.”

“Still romantic,” I whispered, lifting my hips to give him a little nudge of encouragement.

“I hear ya,” he ground out. “I’ve got ya, I’m right here.”

My hands fell from around his neck down to grip his biceps as he pulled out and thrust back in, the slow drag of him as he pulled out coupled with the sharp, pleasure-pain sting of his hips meeting mine as he picked up speed was something I would never tired of.

“… this is gonna be short lived baby… fuck!”

The Impala rocked beneath us as Dean’s thrusts became harder and more erratic, his gaze on me absolutely wild.

“Dean… fuck, please!”

“You close, sweetheart?”

“So close…”

Even in his own haze, before another word could leave my mouth, before I begged for more than he was already giving, he knew. Bracing one hand on the back of the seat, Dean dropped his other hand between our bodies, his thumb finding my swollen clit like a magnet, and began drawing tight circles over the sensitive nub.

“That what you needed?”

“Yes…oh god, Don't stop…right there…I’m-“

The words died on my lips as my orgasm crashed down around me. If I was tethered by Dean’s lips on mine before, then this was life support, and Dean was the only one capable of keeping me from flatlining. His eyes were locked on mine as he gave one final, deep thrust, his own orgasm on the heels of mine, our lips meeting as he worked us both through it.

As the aftershocks wore off and our breathing returned to normal, the two of us remained tangled in each other’s embrace in the front seat of the car.

“Normally I don’t advocate for you putting pants back on but…” I gave a firm squeeze to Dean’s backside in good jest.

“No one wants to see my ass.” He grinned, gently pulling out of me before searching for the roll of paper towels that he kept stashed in the glove box.

“That’s not true.” I rolled my eyes.

“Okay, no one except you wants to see my ass.” He winked, ripping off a few sheets before passing them to me.

I quickly cleaned up before pulling my underwear and jeans back up. We moved silently, but together, Dean balling up the used paper towels and tossing them outside the car, leaving the window cracked for some fresh air.

“C’mere…” he grinned, leaning back in the drivers seat and opening his arms for me.

I slid across the seat, snuggling into his side, bringing my legs up on the bench as Dean wrapped his arm around me.

“Thank you for my wakeup call.” He looked down just as I looked up, a smile on his face.

“You’re welcome,” I leaned up, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I can’t say my motives were entirely without self benefit though.”

“Oh I know.” He chuckled.

We stayed like that, tucked up together, watching as the sun rose higher, and the world began its day.

The sound of boots on gravel startled us, Dean immediately looking into the rear view mirror to see who was coming.

“Sam?”

“Yea… looks like he picked up breakfast.”

“The big lug,” I chuckled. “He’s gonna know we had sex in here.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time and sure as hell won’t be the last, sweetheart.”

Before I could respond, the back door creaked open and Sam lumbered in. He was balancing a tray of coffees in one hand and a brown paper bag in the other. He tossed the greasy bag up front, not caring that it missed the seat and landed on the floor by Dean’s feet.

“Come on, guys…” he groaned.

“What?” Dean cut his eyes to his brother in the rear view mirror.

“Could you two at least try and wait till we find a motel?” Sam griped, passing two coffees over to me. “And don’t say it’s house rules.”

Turning the key in the ignition, Dean grinned at me before cutting his eyes to his brother in the rear view.

“Shut up and drink your coffee.”

[winchesterwild78]

The Demon and Me

Master List 

Characters: Demon Dean x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Demon Dean, Angst, Language, Filth 

A/N: Oh Demon Dean…he makes me feral-sorry not sorry. Just a short story that popped in my head. I have a ton of chapters for other stories half written, but I couldn’t help myself. Dean is now a demon and the reader is left with the weight of his absence, what will happen when he returns to the bunker? 

Minors DNI 18+

I couldn’t stop him from taking the mark. Sam and I tried to talk him out of it. Hell, Cain even tried, but Dean wanted to save the world. So he accepted it. 

The changes were subtle at first. I hardly noticed, but when his bloodlust hit an all time high, and he was rougher with me in bed, I knew the mark was taking root in his soul. It scared me and excited me too.

My sweet, grumpy Dean was starting to become more intense and angry. Dean always had anger, just bubbling below the surface, but this was different. His anger, no, his hate, was deeper, more intense. 

The day he became a demon and left was the day my soul broke. I had been in love with him since he was 20 and I was 18. After a particular nasty hunt, we fell into each other’s arms and bed. Not only did I give Dean my virginity, but I gave him my heart. 

He was the only man I’d ever loved, and I swore he’d be the only man I would love for the rest of my life. He loved me too. He’d said it a few times, but the way he held me, protected me, took care of me and the way he made love to me told me more than his words could. 

Now with the Mark of Cain decorating his forearm like a late night drunken tattoo, that love I felt from him seems gone. The day Metatron stabbed him and killed him was the day my world, my love died. 

When Dean opened his eyes the beautiful green that I could get lost in was replaced by solid black. Dean was a demon. 

I begged him to stay, “Dean, please don’t leave. We can fix this, fix you. Please don’t walk away from us. I love you.” My pleas grew softer and more meek as his black eyes flashed and a smirk grew across his face. 

Dean stepped closer to me. His hot breath rushed over my skin. I turned away, unable to look at him. He grabbed my chin and turned me towards him. 

My chin and cheeks hurt under his grip. “Oh Y/N, come on now. Look at me. Look at what I’ve become for you.” My eyes flicked to his black eyes and an audible sob left my mouth. 

“Dean, please.” “Oh sweetheart, I like it when you beg. I just wish you were on your knees or in our bed doing it.” 

“No, Dean. Not like this.” Dean growled and before I knew it, he had me pinned against the wall, knocking the air from my lungs. His strong hands held mine above my head as he placed a searing kiss on my lips. 

It was rough and devoid of love. I cried harder. His lips trailing down my neck and to my clothes covered breasts. “This is in the way.” He growled as he ripped my shirt and bra off. His lips captured my now free nipples. My body reacted to his touch. 

I was so ashamed, the arousal that shot through my body was fighting against the emotions I was feeling. 

I loved Dean, but I didn’t, no couldn’t love this Dean. 

As he was about to remove the rest of my clothes, Sam and Cass arrived. They pulled Dean off of me and I collapsed to the ground. Dean laughed and then disappeared. 

Sam ran to my side and held me, wrapping his flannel shirt around me. I cried for hours. My Dean was gone. 

As the weeks wore on my heartbreak deepened to my core. Dean was my soulmate. Cass told us that from the moment we met him. He told Dean, there was a plan for him and me, and he needed to let me into his heart. 

After that Dean and I had long, late night conversations about marriage and children. We both agreed it was something we wanted and we were willing to try. After a few years, Dean was weighing the options of getting out of this life. 

“I think we could sweetheart.” He whispered after we had made love on his birthday. “I think we could leave this life behind, and have those babies we talked about.” I laid in his arms, smiling and thinking about the possibility of having his children and living a normal life. “I think we could too, baby. I’d love that.” I whispered back to him as he held me close. 

Now all I was left with was an empty bed and a broken soul. I couldn’t get out of bed. Sam and Cass tried, hell even Jody tried. I was left to mourn him. I felt as if this would hurt less if he had stayed dead. Knowing he’s out there, alive, but as a demon was just too much to bear. 

Sam left about a week ago. Gone to try to track down Dean. He’d gotten a call from another hunter who said he had run into Dean, and he was acting differently. Sam wanted me to go, but I said no. 

“Come on, Y/N. You need to get out of here and going to find him might be exactly what you need. Please. I’m worried about you. You barely eat, you cry yourself to sleep, and you won’t leave your room. You’re slowly killing yourself.” 

Looking up at Sam with weary eyes and a broken soul, “I’m sorry Sammy. I can’t.” He sighed and came over to the bed, hugging me and placing a soft kiss on my head. “Okay. I love you, and if you need me while I’m gone, just call.” I nodded and heard Sam leave the room. 

About thirty minutes later, Sam was leaving. I heard the heavy door of the bunker close shut. I laid on Dean’s side of the bed, trying to hold on to the last bit of scent there was. It was starting to fade. 

Crawling out of bed, my body was exhausted. I needed a shower. Walking to the dresser I grabbed a clean pair of panties, my jogging pants and a t-shirt Dean had left. I pulled it to my nose and inhaled. It smelled just like him. My breath caught in my throat. I missed him so much, his voice, his kiss, his arms…his love. 

Before I got in the shower I pulled out my cell phone. Looking through pictures of the two of us. Some I took of him without him knowing, and some he took of us. I loved looking at them. Pictures of happier times, when my heart and soul were full. 

I looked at my contact list, my finger hovering over Dean’s name. I have no idea what came over me, but I pushed the call. 

A few rings and my pounding heart was deafening. Then the world stood still, he answered. “Well hello, sweetheart.” Oh he sounded like my Dean. My voice, weak from all the crying, “Hi Dean. I miss you.” “Oh, baby I miss you too.” My heart swelled, was he better, did he somehow find a cure? “Want me to come over and fuck that pretty pussy of yours? Make little half-breed babies?” Tears formed in my eyes.

“Dean, please fight this. Do it for us, for me. Please.” I begged. “Oh sweetheart, I don’t want to fight this. All that anger, that guilt that weighed me down for years is gone. I’m finally free. Isn’t that what you wanted? For me to get out of this life and live free?” “Not like this, Dean. I wanted to be with you, to get married and have your children.”

“Aww sweetheart, you’re foolish to think that’s what I really wanted. I only told you what you wanted to hear so I could have that sweet little pussy of yours. I remember the day you gave yourself to me. The tears you shed because my cock was so big. Mmm, I wish I could go back and fuck you all over again, make you bleed all over my cock.” 

“Dean, stop, please. This isn’t you.” “Yes it is, sweetheart. Come on baby, I need your dripping pussy. None of these others have satisfied me like yours has. Believe me, I’ve tried too.”

I felt sick, like I was going to vomit and the hole in my chest got bigger. I let out an audible sob, “Dean, STOP!” “Aww I’m sorry sweetheart, I shouldn’t tell you about all the pussy I’ve had since I left. Besides, I’m sure you and Sammy have gotten pretty cozy after I left. The kid needs a good lay, and I’m okay if you fuck him.” 

I couldn’t take it anymore, “Dean, I love you, please don’t ever forget that. I know deep down you know that. I know you know we are supposed to be together. I just can’t do this anymore. Goodbye Dean.” I hung up and sat on the bed, sobbing. I knew better than to call him. I just wanted him back. 

I made my way to the shower, turning on the hot water, and I stepped in. Letting the water envelop me like a warm hug, like Dean’s hug. Everything I did, everywhere I went reminded me of him. I had to get away. 

I turned off the water and got dressed. Dean’s shirt smelled just like him. With a shaky breath, I called my sister. “Hey, Y/N. How are you sweetie?” “I’m not okay, can I come stay with you for a while. I’ll explain everything when I get there.” “Of course you can, I’ll make up the guest room for you. I’ll see you in a few hours.”

Hanging up with her I went to mine and Dean’s room and packed a bag. I left a note on the bed for Sam, telling him I went to her house for a little bit. Walking through the bunker, all of the memories of Dean and I came rushing back. All of the playful touches, the intimate moments, and the stolen kisses, a beautiful, but painful reminder of the life I had and that’s now gone.

I got in my car and drove towards my sister’s house. It was an 8 hour drive, so I was hoping to drive all the way through. However, my car had other ideas. About 5 ½ hours in, it started smoking and I pulled over. Dean had taught me all about cars and how to fix them. “I don’t want you stranded or getting screwed over by a mechanic. I want you to be able to fix what you can and tell them what’s wrong with it so they don’t try to take advantage of you.” 

I looked under the hood, “Shit! Busted radiator hose. Of course in the middle of nowhere.” A nice older couple saw me about 10 minutes after breaking down and offered me a ride to town. I thanked them and as we pulled in I saw a small mechanic shop. I thought to myself I bet his name is Bubba. As I got out of the car a middle aged, heavy set man in greasy overalls approached me. He wiped his hand on a rag before he extended it to me. “Hey there darlin’, name’s Bubba, this is my shop. What can I do ya for?” I snorted and tried to cough to cover it up, “Yes hi, my car broke down about 5 miles East of here. It’s a busted radiator hose. Do you have a tow truck?” 

“Yep I do, come on, let’s go get your car.” I hopped in his truck with him and he drove towards your car. “So what brings a young woman like yourself to this neck of the woods?” “Oh, I was passing through, heading towards my sister’s house. Just my luck the car would break down.” He chuckled, “Yeah, well I’ll get it fixed and get you on your way.” 

A comfortable silence fell between the two of us. Pulling out my phone I sent my sister a text to let her know what was going on. I told her I’d keep her updated. 

A few minutes later Bubba pulled up to my car and looked under the hood, “Yep, busted radiator hose. I’ll tow ya to the shop and see what I have there. Hopefully I have this hose.” I nodded and he hitched the car up. 

Once back at his shop I heard him searching for the hose. “Well, looks like I don’t have a hose that will fit. I have a friend that has a shop a town over, but he’s on a fishing trip for the next two days. He usually has all types of parts that I don’t. I’ll send him a message and see. Unfortunately you’ll have to hang around town for a few days.” 

I sighed, “Okay. Is there a hotel I can stay at?” “Yeah, there’s one right around the corner. Great place, with a restaurant and bar in the same area.” I nodded and thanked him. I gave Bubba my number to call me when he gets an answer about the part. 

I started to walk towards the hotel, Bubba gave me directions and even called the clerk to let her know I was on my way. Once I arrived, a sweet middle aged woman named Carol greeted me with a warm smile. “Hey, you must be Y/N. Bubba told me you’d be heading this way. Here ya go honey, room 101.” I smiled, nodded and took the key. 

I walked towards the room, unlocking the door I walked in. It was an older hotel, but the room was immaculate and well taken care of. It made me think of the hotels I would stay in with Dean and Sam. 

Closing the door I did the usual checks that the boys taught me. After putting my things down I sent my sister a text telling her it was going to be at least 2 days. I started to unpack and decided to take a shower to wash off the day. 

As I climbed out of the shower my mind started playing tricks on me. I swear I heard the deep rumble of the Impala. “Stop it! He’s not here. You’re just missing him.” Getting dressed, I decided on jeans and a nice top. 

I grabbed my stuff and headed towards the bar and grill across the parking lot. It was getting dark, and there seemed to be a lot of cars in the lot. I pushed the door open and was instantly met with the smell of bar food and alcohol. 

I sat at the bar and the bartender came over taking my food and drink order. I scanned the bar and noticed some couples cuddled up and a few single people scouting the area too. The bartender brought my drink over and told me the food would be out shortly. I nodded and thanked him. 

I was sipping my whiskey when I felt a chill run up my spine. “Well ello love.” I spun on the barstool and was face to face with Crowley. I felt the anger rise up in me and without thinking I slapped him across his face. 

“Oh I see you’re not as happy to see me as I am you.” “Why the fuck are you here, Crowley?” “Oh, loverboy over there is trying to win a bet. I told him he couldn’t get that sweet little virgin over there in the sack, he said he could get her in bed in less than 10 minutes. You care to wager?” My gaze fell to where he pointed, it was Dean. He was talking to a very young, very beautiful woman. She looked like she just turned 21. By the smile and giggle coming from her, Dean was about to win the bet.

My heart beat faster in my chest. Crowley smirked, “How about you go say ello to him, you know for old times sake.” 

As I met his eyes tears were starting to fill mine. “Aww come now love, Dean still loves you, it’s just buried very, very deep.” I stood and was going to head to the bathroom, but as I stood I lost my footing and knocked over a glass, breaking it. Heads turned towards me, one of which was Dean. His eyes, soft and green, met mine. He jumped up from his seat and in a flash was beside me. 

The young woman clearly forgotten, for now. “Hey sweetheart, what are you doing here?” 

My breath hitched and my words caught in my throat, “just passing through” I managed to get out. Dean stepped closer to me. The unmistakable smell that was Dean, leather, whisky and a hint of mint. His body heat enveloped me.  

“Mmm it’s so good to see you baby. You smell incredible. Good enough to eat. Like cookies and vanilla.” Crawley’s head shot up and his eyes wide. A tear slipped out of my eyes, “Dean, I have to go.” “Aww come now baby don’t be like that. Is Sammy with you?” 

My gaze locked with his, “No, I’m alone.”  I knew it was stupid to tell him that, but I couldn’t help myself. He looked like my Dean and he smelled like my Dean. The rational part of my brain told me to run, but the part of me that still loved him told me to stay. 

Dean stepped closer, hand gripping my chin and he pulled me into a searing kiss. As he pulled away, my bottom lip caught between his teeth and he bit, drawing blood. I winced in pain. 

A low chuckle came from him. All he said was “perfect”. I had no idea what he meant by that, but it sent a shiver through my core. The look in his eyes terrified me. 

Pulling away I walked towards the bathroom. I knew he was hot on my heels. As I reached for the bathroom door I felt Dean’s strong arm grab me. “Darlin’ don’t be like that. I walked away from untouched pussy for you.”

I turned around, I knew he didn’t care how much this hurt me, “Dean, please let me go. Go back to her or whoever else you have in mind tonight. I can’t do this anymore.” 

As his grip tightened on my arm Crowley interrupted, “Dean, she’s not worth it. Let’s go. She’ll just complicate things.” Dean looked between Crowley and me, now full on crying. “Yeah, I’m not worth it, Dean.” I pulled my arm away and walked into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. 

I collapsed against the wall and quiet sobs left my body. I’m trapped here, and he’s here. The one person I was trying to outrun. I pulled out my phone to call Sam. As I was about to dial his number there was a knock on the door. “I’ll be out in a minute.” I was able to choke out.

“Open the door, love. We need to talk.” Crowley’s voice boomed through the door. 

I unlocked the door and made eye contact with him. The anger filling my body. He took my love, my future, my Dean. The anger flashed in my eyes followed by rage. “Now love, don’t go making any trouble for yourself.” I cut him off, “What the fuck do you want?!” “I don’t want you to follow us. Dean is finally accepting his new role in life. He’s a great demon, and he’s turning out to be a great right hand man. You being here, being around him is only going to confuse him and cause him to suppress his new side.” 

“Crowley, you will never win. I know my Dean. He’s in there fighting to be free, fighting to come back to me. He loves me and this bro fest you have going on will end.” “I really think you have more things to worry about than me and Dean right now. You need to take care of yourself, you know, for the next generation of hunters.” He smirked and it sent a shiver down my spine.

“What the fuck do you care? I thought you hated hunters because they mess up your bottom line?!” “Oh that’s adorable. You’ll find out soon enough.” Then Crowley left without another word. 

After a few minutes I finally left the bathroom. I saw Dean in the corner with the young woman from earlier. My heart ached in my chest. She was touching his chest and giggling as he kissed her softly. I sat there watching them, his eyes flicked to mine a few times, but he kept touching her, kissing her and whispering things that made her blush and giggle. 

Her friends were laughing and they were all drinking. My heart was breaking with each whisper, kiss and tender touch they shared. I knew what he was whispering in her ear. The same thing he would whisper in mine, his lips ghosting hers and then down her neck. As the minutes passed I couldn’t take it anymore. 

I paid my tab, got my food to go and started to walk towards the door. I heard her giggle one last time and my resolve broke. Tears streamed down my face. Maybe Crowley was right, maybe Dean didn’t want to fight this. Maybe all the shit he had been through was too much and he just finally gave in. 

By the time I made it back to my hotel room the tears were falling faster and my sobs grew louder. I managed to change, pulling Dean’s shirt on again. The only energy I had left in me was to put on his shirt. As I curled into a ball in the bed Crowley’s words played over and over in your head, “You need to take care of yourself, you know, for the next generation of hunters. Oh that’s adorable. You’ll find out soon enough.”

His words echoed in my head as I drifted off to sleep. My sleep was restless, flashes of better times mixed with flashes of Dean with his lifeless black eyes. I woke myself up sobbing and screaming Dean’s name. As I sat up in bed, trying to stop the tears and steady my breath I saw a black shadow in the corner. I gasped, reached for the knife under my pillow but it was gone. 

A panic filled my body. Then the light turned on. “Looking for this darlin’?” Dean was standing in my room, holding my demon blade. I gasped, “Dean.”

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[my-proof-is-you]

We Can’t Be Friends

Sam x Reader One Shot based on this request!

Summary: You can’t be around someone who broke your heart. You just can’t be friends.

A/N: This is a super long one shot. Sorry, not sorry :)

You

Your lips were inches from each other. You could feel Sam’s breath on your face, Your eyes were closed, the anticipation of the moment you’d dreamed of for so long killing you.

Suddenly, you felt his presence gone. You opened your eyes, Sam had stepped back, his hand running through his hair. 

“We can’t do this, Y/N,” he said, squeezing his eyes shut.

”W-What?” You questioned. 

“We can’t be together. It would never work—it’s too risky. You know that.”

You opened your mouth to argue but no words came out. He wasn’t wrong. Hunters dating each other was rough. There was always something out there that could use you against each other. There was always the threat of losing the other person on a hunt. Young death was common. Getting involved with each other would just make it more painful.

You wanted to scream at him that you could make it work. You wanted to beg him to give it a try. 

But all you did was nod. You swallowed, willing the tears stinging at your eyes to go away.

Sam nodded back, also at a loss for words. He turned, heading down the hallway to his room. When you heard his door close, you finally let the tears fall. 

Three Weeks Later

You

Your sharp hearing alerted you to someone other than Sam or Dean entering the kitchen. Your back was to the entryway as you had been filling your coffee mug. It was six in the morning, and even Sam who was an early riser was never up that early. 

Besides, you knew what the boys sounded like. They had very distinct sounds to their steps—individual ways of breathing that you knew like the back of your hand. 

This person was not Sam or Dean.

You pulled your gun from your waistband and spun around instantly, training your firearm on the intruder. 

The woman raised her hands in surrender instantly, a look of confusion on her face. She looked to be about your age. She had long, straight blonde hair, and doe-like eyes that were a bright shade of blue. Her long legs seemed to stretch on forever in the pair of boxer shorts she wore that were rolled up at the waist. She had a white ribbed tank top on with a flannel thrown over it. 

“There is no good way to enter a room that contains a hunter when they’re not expecting you,” she said, her hands still raised and a small smile on her face. 

“Who are you?” You demanded, unflinching.

”I’m Danielle. I guess Sam didn’t warn you I was here.”

”You expect me to believe you were invited here?” You had a hard time believing Sam had just “forgotten” to tell you about a guest.

”Well, it was kinda last minute…” she trailed off. You studied her awkward expression before realization hit you. She wasn’t just wearing a flannel and boxers. She was wearing one of Sam’s flannels. You weren’t sure about the boxers, but you had a pretty good guess as to who they belonged to. 

A sharp pain shot straight through you as you realized what that meant. This woman had spent the night.

”Oh,” you said lamely. You lowered your gun. 

“Whoa, Y/N, what’s goin’ on?” Dean asked, coming into the kitchen behind Danielle. “We don’t wanna scare off any chicks that actually like my brother,” he joked. 

Dean hadn’t known about what happened between you and Sam a few weeks before. You were pretty sure he knew about your feelings for his brother, but you hadn’t told him about your near-relationship. So to Dean, Sam having a girl stay overnight was just business as usual. 

He didn’t know it was making you bite the inside of your cheek so hard it bled. 

“Sorry about that,” you mumbled. She put her hands down as you put your gun back in your waistband. You turned to Dean. ”You knew she was here?”

”Yeah, Sammy texted me last night. He didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, confused. 

You feigned nonchalance. “Must’ve forgot,” you shrugged. 

“Huh. Well, Y/N, Danielle’s here,” he said, giving your shoulder a small shove as he went to get himself a cup of coffee. 

You realized that regardless of your feelings for Sam, you were being rude. 

“I’m sorry. I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you, Danielle,” you said, striding over to her and reaching out a hand. She shook it, smiling.

”It’s no problem, Y/N. I would have done the same thing,” she said with a chuckle.

”You’re a hunter too, I take it?” You asked, handing her the mug meant for you and going back to get coffee for yourself again. She sat down at the table and you sat across from her, trying your best to hide your shock at her mere presence. 

One-night-stands weren’t new to you. All three of you had them now and again. You just weren’t expecting Sam to have one so soon after your…incident. 

“Yeah, I met Sam at a shifter case nearby. We got a drink to celebrate when it was over and…well, here I am.”

You smiled lightly as Dean came to sit next to you. You could feel how forced it was, and by the way you could feel his eyes on you, Dean knew, too. 

You spent the next ten minutes getting to know Danielle with Dean before Sam finally stumbled into the kitchen. 

“Well, look who decided to show up,” Dean said. Sam didn’t seem that surprised that Danielle was still there. You watched him as he walked in and came to the table, leaning down and giving her a quick kiss. He turned and walked to the coffee pot, not once making eye contact with you.

”So what’s on the docket today?” Dean asked after taking a sip of his coffee. You were about to respond when Danielle spoke up.

”Well, Sammy and I are going to head up to Colorado for a werewolf case. Then we thought we’d rent a place up there, have a little mini ski vacation.”

Sammy.

We.

Vacation.

Realization smacked you in the face. Danielle wasn’t a one-night-stand. 

Sam was dating her. 

Sam

Sam dared a glance at you from behind his mug when Danielle finished speaking. 

He saw realization, shock, and anger flit across your face at an amazing speed before it turned to a blank mask. 

He was a dick, he knew that. He should have told you he was seeing someone. 

He didn’t even really mean to be seeing someone. He’d met Danielle and had a great night of distraction with her. But when morning came, the gaping hole in his heart returned, and he couldn’t stand it. He needed more distraction. 

Danielle was there. Danielle was sweet and beautiful. Danielle was interested in him.

Danielle wasn’t you, though. 

Before he knew it, a couple of weeks had gone by and he had been calling her up fairly often. He couldn’t find it in himself to tell you, and it hadn’t mattered. But Danielle eventually wanted to see the infamous bunker. So he brought her home. Before telling you.

He knew you’d be pissed. You couldn’t hold it against him forever, though, could you? After all, you’d both agreed it was for the best that you don’t pursue a relationship.

As he watched your face return from blank to your normal easy-going one, he felt a little relief. Maybe you had moved on. Maybe it didn’t bother you that much. 

Sam shook his head a little to clear it, listening back in on the conversation. He needed to focus on the upcoming hunt.

Your phone went to voicemail for the second time. Sam hung up, trying his brother instead.

”Yello?” Dean answered on the second ring.

”Is everything okay?” Sam asked.

”Yeah…why?”

”Where’s Y/N?”

”She’s right here, watching Dr. Sexy with me.”

Sam clenched his teeth and felt his jaw tick. You’d ignored his calls. 

“Sammy?” Dean asked after Sam neglected to respond. 

“Yeah, uh, nevermind. I was just checking in. Danielle and I finished the hunt. We’re gonna spend a couple days up here and then I’ll be home.”

”Alright, brother. Enjoy,” Dean said. Sam could almost hear his eyebrows wiggling. He rolled his eyes and hung up without responding. 

“Everything okay?” Danielle asked, putting her arms around Sam’s neck from behind and placing her face against his. He swallowed, pushing aside his annoyance. 

“Yep, all good.” 

You

Dean hung up the phone and turned to look at you. 

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

“You wanna tell me what that was about?” He asked, eyeing you. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you huffed, turning back to the TV.

Dean snatched the remote from next to you, turning it off. “Bullshit. You’ve been weird the last two days. What is going on? Did you and Sam have a fight or something?”

“Or something,” you muttered. 

“Y/N,” he said, staring you down. 

“You know how I feel about him, right?” You asked with a sigh. 

“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug.

”Well, that just makes it…hard to be around him right now. Or talk to him.”

Dean nodded slowly. “But, Y/N, this isn’t anything really new, is it?”

You let out a dry chuckle. “Well, it turns out my feelings aren’t so one-sided.”

”Well I coulda told you that,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Sam’s always been crazy about you.”

You nodded, pursing your lips. You gave him a minute to let what he was saying sink in. 

“Wait, if you know you like each other, why aren’t you together?”

”Because dating when you’re a hunter is a bad idea,” you said flatly.

”But…Danielle’s a…” he trailed off. “Oh.”

”Yeah. Oh.”

”I’m so sorry, Y/N/N. I wouldn’t have been so easy-going about her being here if I’d known,” he said, his eyes shining with regret.

”Don’t worry about it, De. I just…I need some space from him. I don’t think I can be his friend right now.” You felt your face crumple a bit as the words left your mouth. You sniffled, and you saw Dean’s eyes flash with a protective anger.

”I’ll knock some sense into him,” he said, his jaw ticking. 

“Dean, no. I’m a big girl. I don’t need you to beat up your brother for me,” you said with a chuckle. Dean really was your best friend outside of Sam, and you felt your heart swell a little at the thought of him siding with you over his own brother.

”Fine,” he sighed. “But Y/N, you say the word, and his ass is grass.”

You laughed and rolled your eyes, Dean’s antics cheering you up a little. “Got it.”

It was a little harder to avoid Sam when he got back from his “mini-vacation.” He had clearly caught on to the fact that you didn’t want to hang out with him. Not that you were subtle. 

Whenever Sam walked into a room you were in, you mumbled some excuse and left. You could see that it was bothering him, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. It’s not like he didn’t deserve it. 

He’d tried to talk to you about it a couple of times. You’d been able to avoid the conversation. 

Until now, that is.

”Y/N, stop.” He grasped your arm as you turned to leave the library. You’d come in from the kitchen and seen him there and immediately tried to escape. He was fast, though, and pulled you to a bookshelf, effectively cornering you.

You pulled your arm away from his hand as if he’d burned you. 

“What, Sam?” You asked with very little patience.

”What do you mean, ‘what’? You’ve been avoiding me for the better part of a month,” he replied, crossing his arms over his chest. 

“Yeah, well, you’ve been busy,” you said, emphasizing the last word. 

“I’ve been here almost every day,” he said, clearly not getting what you were saying. “Why don’t you want to hang out with me? I miss you.”

You almost softened your resolve when he said that. But the pain that creeped in when you remembered Danielle put the wall right back up. If he couldn’t see what he’d done, you weren’t going to explain it to him.

”It’s nothing, Sam. I’ve just been busy, too.” You met his eyes but made sure to keep yours blank. He searched them for a moment. “Can I go now?” You asked. 

He nodded, a look of sadness on his face. You slipped past him and out of the library before you could change your mind. 

A few more weeks went by and you could feel yourself becoming less and less like yourself. You continued to give Sam the cold shoulder, and it seemed he had given up trying to get you to talk, too. You spoke with him when it was essential for hunts, but rarely outside of that. 

Danielle had been joining many of your hunts and hanging around the bunker a lot. It was painful to see them together, but she really was a nice girl and a great hunter. It wasn’t her fault you were heartbroken. 

You breathed a sigh of relief when you heard Danielle wouldn’t be coming on the afternoon’s hunt. You were going to the next town over to take care of a vamp nest, which should have been quick and easy.

It wasn’t.

There were more vampires than any of you had thought. The three you killed easily were only a third of what the nest actually was. You each took on two more when they appeared. You could hear the sounds of Sam and Dean fighting theirs off as you lopped off the head of one of yours. The other one, though, got the jump on you. He threw you against the wall with unbelievable force, knocking the wind out of you. 

You laid crumpled on the floor, trying to get your bearings. You had hit your head, and you reached back to feel the bump, your hand coming back red with blood. Your back was screaming, and you could tell you’d at least bruised a few ribs. 

“Stupid girl,” the vampire said, closing in on you slowly. “You killed my family. That cannot stand.”

Your vision was becoming fuzzy around the edges, unconsciousness pulling at you. As the vamp leaned in, fangs bared, his eyes went wide just before his head was gone. It rolled to the floor and his body fell back with a loud thump on the floor. 

“Y/N! Y/N, are you okay?” Sam shouted. He was kneeling down in front of you where the vampire had just been. He held your shoulders and you blinked hard, trying to get your vision to clear. It was useless, though, and you felt yourself go limp before darkness took over.

“Y/N. Y/N,” you heard as you opened your eyes. You blinked against the harsh light of the bunker’s kitchen. You were sat in a chair, Dean holding you up by your shoulders and lightly tapping your face.

”Y-Yeah,” you said, your head pounding. “I’m okay.”

”I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied. He checked you over and when you both agreed that you’d just been knocked out and probably had some bruised ribs, he gave you a glass of water and left to go shower. You were still sitting, and realized that Sam was leaning against the counter, staring at you.

“You scared me,” he said quietly.

You pursed your lips, shrugging. “I’m fine.”

”You’re not fine. We’re not fine,” he said, looking away and shaking his head. 

“Sam, don’t,” you said. You stood up and took a moment to steady yourself. 

“Just talk to me, Y/N!” He said, suddenly walking toward you.

”Why don’t you talk to your girlfriend, Sam?” You said, unable to hide the hurt from your voice. 

Sam’s eye met yours, a look of regret taking over.

“I made a mistake,” he said quietly. 

“You—you made a mistake.” You stated sarcastically. 

“Yeah, Y/N. I made a mistake starting a relationship with Danielle. I still have feelings for you,” he said. He lifted a hand like he wanted to touch you, but dropped it when he saw the look on your face.

You felt the rage bubbling up inside as you held back the tears forming the best you could.

”What do you want me to say, Sam?” You said through gritted teeth. “I’m not going to feel sorry for you.”

He swallowed, his soulful eyes meeting yours. 

“You did this to us, Sam. You chose to date her. You chose this.”

”We both agreed it was better not to try!” He argued. 

“No, Sam. You said it was better. I only went along with it because it was what you wanted! And then you decided to try with her!” You sucked in a breath as the tears fell in an attempt to calm yourself. “She is a good person, Sam. She doesn’t deserve less than one-hundred percent of you.”

You stepped forward, gripping his hand. You brought your eyes up to his. “Be the good man I know you are. Be with her.” You squeezed his hand once before dropping it. You brushed past him and down the hall to your room. Closing the door, you collapsed onto your bed and let the sobs escape. Some time later, you felt the bed dip behind you. You hadn’t even heard anyone come in over your sobs. So much for your hunter ears. 

You knew from the scent of whiskey, cologne, and motor oil that it was Dean, though. He put a hand on your shoulder and pulled you toward him, and you let him. You rested your head on his chest and gripped his shirt as you cried. He kept his arms around you and let you, shushing you and kissing the top of your head. After what felt like hours, you fell asleep surrounded by the comfort of your best friend.

Sam 

It had been a few hours since he’d seen you or Dean, so Sam decided to go looking for you. After looking in all the common areas of the bunker, he carefully opened the door to your room.

Dean met his eyes from his spot leaning against the headboard of your bed and Sam slid his gaze down, taking in your sleeping form. He could see that the space around your eyes was puffy from crying. He took a deep breath in, letting it out in a pained sigh. 

“She been asleep long?” He asked his brother.

Dean just shook his head. “She’s really out, though.”

”Dean—“

”Sam, I don’t want to hear it,” Dean said, cutting him off. “Whatever bullshit reason you have for doing what you did—for doing this,” he said, nodding toward you with his head, “I don’t want to hear it.”

Sam bit the inside of his cheek and looked away, feeling the tears stinging the back of his eyes.

”What am I supposed to do, man?” He asked his big brother, his voice breaking slightly. “I love her.”

Dean’s eyes softened. “You do what’s right. You do what you always should have.”

”I can’t lose her,” Sam said quietly. He worried for a second that Dean wouldn’t know if he meant Danielle or you. 

“I get it,” Dean replied, and Sam wasn’t worried anymore. “But you have to decide what that means for you. Cause you can’t have it both ways.” He looked down at you again, effectively telling Sam that he was done talking. 

Sam left your room, closing the door quietly behind him. 

The right thing. He’d always tried to do the right thing. And look where it’d gotten him.

He knew what he was going to do, right or wrong be damned.

You

You’d woken at some point to Dean sliding out from under you and covering you with your comforter. You were already falling back asleep as he kissed your head and said, “Sleep, sweetheart.”

Now you woke again. Your phone on your nightstand told you it was 11 AM. You’d slept for twelve hours. 

Everything from the night before came rushing back to you. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to calm yourself. Your head throbbed and your ribs ached as you got out of bed and made your way to the bathroom. You showered, the hot water stinging your head wound but soothing your sore muscles. You dressed in your leggings and a t-shirt before throwing one of Sam’s flannels over it. You may not have been his girlfriend—or even speaking to him—but you would be damned if you were going to give up the comfiest piece of clothing you’d stolen from him.

You padded down the hall to the kitchen, noticing how quiet the bunker was. You didn’t know where the brothers were, but decided not to worry about it before you’d even had some coffee. 

You walked into the library, intent on sitting in one of the overstuffed leather chairs by the bookshelves. You stopped, though, when you saw Sam sitting at one of the tables. He wasn’t pouring over any old tomes or looking at his laptop like usual. He was just sitting there, staring at his hands. He looked up then, and you knew he’d been waiting for you.

”Sam, please, I can’t do this again,” you said, not wanting to argue with him.

He stood, walking to you in two long strides and taking your mug, setting it down on the table nearest to you. You watched him in confusion as he came back to stand in front of you. 

“You said I was a good man, Y/N.” He grabbed each of your hands with his, his eyes never leaving yours. “But a good man wouldn’t have broken your heart.”

You could feel tears welling up in your eyes. “Sam—“

”Let me just say this, Y/N/N,” he said softly. You nodded for him to continue. 

“I was trying to do the right thing when I said we shouldn’t be together. I thought it would just be too hard, and I didn’t want to lose you. But being without you created this—this hole in me. So I tried to fill it. I distracted myself with Danielle. I didn’t even really want to be in a relationship with her. It’s not like I forgot what I had just said about dating as hunters. But it was different with her. The stakes weren’t as high.”

You watched him as he continued, his grip on your hands staying firm.

”She only eased the ache for a little bit, though. It always came back. It came back because you are what I need.

”When you got hurt on the hunt yesterday, my heart nearly stopped. It didn’t matter that we aren’t together. Losing you would ruin me, whether we’re together or not. 

“I broke up with Danielle this morning. Maybe that makes me a bad person. I don’t know. I don’t care, though. I’m so in love with you, Y/N. And I can’t go another minute without you in my life.”

Your heart thudded in your chest, and you could feel the tears leaking out of your eyes and down your cheeks. Sam lifted his hands to your face, his thumbs wiping the tears away. 

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he said when it was clear you were speechless. You nodded, finding it was the only thing you could manage at the moment. 

Sam smiled lightly and leaned in, bringing his lips to yours. In that moment it was like you had found everything that had ever been missing in your life. You were whole again. You brought your hands up around his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. He moaned, wrapping one arm around your back and pulling you flush to him. 

After a few moments he pulled away, his eyes searching yours. You realized you still hadn’t spoken. 

You smiled. “You are a good person, Sam. And I love you, too.”

His face lit up and he pulled you back in for another kiss. 

“Thank God,” you heard from the bottom of the stairs. Dean stood there holding a few takeout bags. “I couldn’t take any more of y’all’s drama.”

You rolled your eyes at your friend before turning back to Sam. “So, do you want to try this?” You asked cautiously.

”Try? No,” he replied. Your heart sank for a moment before he continued. “We’re doing this. You’re it for me, Y/N,” he said, placing a finger under your chin before bringing his lips to yours again. 

You smiled as he pulled away. “Guess we’re friends again,” you joked. 

“Nuh uh,” he said, pulling you close again. “You’re mine,” he whispered in your ear. It sent a shiver down your spine. 

“Then show me,” you whispered back. Next thing you knew, Sam had thrown you over his shoulder and was marching down the hall. 

“Guess I’ll see you guys later,” you heard Dean call with a chuckle. 

And as Sam tossed you gently on his bed and crawled up, hovering over you, you knew that he finally got it.

Being together was worth the risk.

Forevers:@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 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium

[supernaturalfreewill]

Dean was thoroughly enjoying the view; you were in his shirt from the night before and nothing else, just the soft brush of flannel on your bare thighs. Sam had taken Cas out on a case and you had the bunker to yourselves.

You turned away from the stove where bacon was crackling in the pan and Dean gave you a warm look, which drew a wide smile from you until—

"Dean—I know you are not about to drink my coffee," you said, watching him reach for your mug. "It'd be a real shame for me to have to kill you this early in our relationship."

Dean looked taken aback and then let out a gruff laugh. "I thought what's mine is yours and vice versa?"

You moved around the kitchen island to wrap your arms around his neck and lean against him. "Of course it is, babe... just not the coffee," you whispered throatily, planting a soft kiss along his jaw and then retrieving your mug.

Dean affected a shiver. "Ooh... damn. Lesson learned," he said, smiling at you in amusement. "I'll get my own mug."

You took a slow sip, your hands wrapped around the warm ceramic. "I think that would be wise," you said sweetly.

Prompt: "It'd be a real shame for me to have to kill you this early in our relationship."

[yourmomxx]

Family Line

father of mine masterlist

summary: the hunt for the monster starts. We find out what happened all those years ago between Dean and his daughter.

warnings: canon violence, child abandonment, swear words, angst, daddy issues, character death, descriptions of blood, descriptions of murder, this is written like an episode of Supernatural

word count: 8,5k

a/n: we did it, guys! this is the last part of the father-of-mine series. I’m really sorry about the late upload, but I do hope it was worth the wait! This might be the ending of this series, but not quite the ending of the story … thank you all so much for sticking around and supporting this story, sequels and prequels about dean and his daughter will definitely come!

pt1 pt2 pt3

Sioux Falls 2007

It was late at night, and in Bobby Singer’s Junkyard, the lights were still on. Accompanying the chirping tunes of the cicadas, a fading pop song from somewhere in the ‘70s was trailing out the windows.

On the small wooden table in the kitchen, Dean and Sam Winchester had spread out a multitude of lore books found in Bobby’s bookshelf, some worn out, some torn, and Sam was currently leaned over a particularly ugly-written paragraph dedicated to the magical use of a pan���s flute.

“Dean, I can hear you being silent.” Sam raised his head to look his older brother in the eye. “What is it?”

Dean shrugged, threw a look at the numerous variations of old books about supernatural creatures laid out in front of them, then at his little brother.

“You’re overworking yourself, Sammy,” Dean pointed out. The keyboard clicked as he typed something on the laptop.

“Dean, we’ve been over this,” Sam said. “I’m just trying to find a way for you to not die. You can’t exactly blame me for that.”

“Yes, exactly, we’ve been over it,” Dean countered. “And I told you there’s no way around it. I made a deal, that’s it. Period, no refunds.”

Sam clenched his jaw. “Well, I don’t want that to be it.” He muttered under his breath.

Dean opened his mouth to say something, but stopped himself when they heard the sound of tiny footsteps over the floor.

Dean perked up and turned his head.

“Hey, my little love.”

A while ago, the soft tone in his brother’s words would have caught Sam completely off guard. By now, he was already getting used to the way Dean’s eyes had a different look in them – one of pure love – and he spoke with a softness as if his words alone should wrap their recipient up in satin cloth.

Sam turned around to look at who Dean was talking to, and was not surprised to see a small girl trutting towards them, little legs still uncoordinated after only just waking up. Her small fists were rubbing her squinted eyes, the light in the living room must be blinding her.

Y/N made her way over to Dean and made grabby hands up at him.

Dean chuckled and picked his daughter up under her arms, placing her carefully on his thigh as she nuzzled into his dark flannel shirt.

Sam smiled at the contrast of Dean’s shirt, and her bright yellow children’s nightgown with the washed out Led Zeppelin-logo printed on.

Dean’s big hand was rubbing circles on her back, as he craned his neck to bow it down to her.

“What are you doing awake so late, sweetheart?” He hushed.

Y/N nuzzled her nose into his neck. “’d a bad dream,” she mumbled.

Sam could see the emotion cross over his brother’s face for a brief second as he made eye contact with him.

They both knew that this could – would – happen. That little girl had been through so much already, at her young age, had seen and lost things no child should ever see or lose.

They both had known that nightmares would probably eventually start haunting her, but yet, they had still not been prepared for when it was the time.

Dean didn’t know what he should be feeling, his daughter had had a nightmare, and all he wanted was to wrap his arms around her, keep her there, and kill everything in her way to becoming happy.

But he knew he couldn’t do that. And that’s why he wanted to, so much more.

“Really?” He asked instead, hand not leaving her back. “Do you want to tell me what it was about?”

“Everybody was leaving me,” Y/N sniffled, small fist rubbing her nose. “You, Auntie Ellen, Jo, Uncle Sam, Grandpa Bobby.” Another sniffle.

“I was all alone.”

Dean felt like sobbing. A heavy weight had latched itself on his heart. Oh, his little girl. How much he loved her.

“Sweetheart, it was just a bad dream,” he promised to her. “We are not going to leave you alone, I swear.”

Y/N pulled her face from the crook of his neck and looked up at him with red rimmed eyes.

“Pinky promise?” She asked.

Dean lifted his free hand and linked his pinky finger with hers. “Pinky promise,” he said.

Something told him he had made a mistake. But he couldn’t care right now.

Still, he felt like a liar.

“Now,” he said, a conspiratorial tone in his words, “What do you say we get you back to bed and I stay until you fall asleep, hm? How does that sound?”

Y/N didn’t fuss long about it, she just nodded her head and nuzzled closer to him.

Dean understood the silent command, and lifted her into his arms as he stood up. “Alright. Let’s go.”

Sam looked after them as they disappeared up the stairs. Now alone, he turned his attention back to his research. Why he was reading everything about the dog Cerberus right now, he couldn’t quite decipher, but he was grasping onto every straw.

A few minutes passed by, and Dean was still not back. Another few, another few.

Sam frowned as he looked at the clock on the wall. 5.13 in the evening. Sam realized now that the clock was broken.

Curtly, he stood up from the table and climbed the stairs to the bedrooms.

The door to Y/N’s room was open, hiding the colored sign she had written her name on (with Dean’s help) to inform everyone of her territory.

Careful to be quiet, Sam stepped closer to the threshold, peeking into the dark room. A dim night light in the form of a crescent moon was burning on the nightstand. In the bed laid a small bundle of blankets and stuffed animals, which Sam could only guess was Y/N.

Next to her, holding the girl in his arms, Sam spotted Dean, probably holding on for dear life on the edge of the narrow bed.

Sam smiled at them.

Through the silence, a soft, hummed melody reached Sam’s ears, and he perked up.

He knew that song from somewhere, he just couldn’t quite put his finger on it.

Na-na na na. Nana na-a.

Sam’s eyes narrowed. “Dude, are you singing her Smells like Teen Spirit?”

Dean looked at him, grinning. “Yeah. It’s a classic.” As if it was the most obvious thing in the world and Sam was the stupid one.

“I mean, look at her,” he said, his gaze shifting to his daughter again. “She’s gonna be a badass one day. Right? One day, you’re gonna be as badass and cool as your daddy.”

Oh yeah, that girl was out like a light.

Sam just shook his head chuckling. “All right, I’ll be downstairs if you need me.”

Dean didn’t answer him, but he knew he heard him.

A few minutes after Sam had left, currently sitting at the kitchen table again, starting a new chapter of the same book, Dean came downstairs.

Wordlessly, he took his seat across from Sam, and pulled one of the lore books closer to him.

And though he had an idea where his brother’s new sense of determination came from, Sam didn’t say a word when Dean started reading.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

Now

When you called, for a brief second Sam was worried that Dean was gonna crash the car. The way his face morphed into shock, concern and then anger, while he was talking to you on the phone had his little brother worried.

After you hung up, Sam pretended not to notice the way Dean pushed further into the gas pedal.

The first rays of the morning sunlight made their way over the hills, when Sam and Dean arrived at the Group Home. Dean didn’t bother with a neat parking maneuver, and just turned the motor off, then made his way with fast steps over to the castle.

Sam trailed behind.

They had no problem entering the building, Maria had given them an official key card for their investigations. Dean stormed down the hallways with a fast step, as if he had memorized the entire way by heart.

Sam wouldn’t blame him.

You were sitting on your bed when they came in. Or more, cowering there.

Sam was all too familiar with the look of disturbed terror in your eyes, even when you firmly avoided looking at either of them.

“Y/N?” Dean moved a step forward, stretching his hand out towards you as if to soothingly touch your shoulder, but hesitated in his movement and pulled away.

Sam threw him a worried look that Dean didn’t seem to catch.

“What happened?”

Your fingers were continuously drumming against your knee pulled close to your chest.

“’d a bad dream,” you mumbled. Sam could hear the fear in your voice. Dean sat down in your chair opposite the bed.

“When I woke up, there was …” You swallowed and hardly squinted your eyes. “I don’t know what it was. Looked like two yellow … eyes.”

Sam couldn’t help the disgusted twist his face made at the word. He couldn’t imagine waking up to something like this.

Dean exchanged a look with him. Your story confirmed their theory even more.

On the bed, you had gone quiet again. Your fingers were still drumming an uneven pattern on your skin.

This didn’t make sense. This didn’t make sense. She was dead, Cass was dead. Roy was dead. Dean Winchester was here. He left you, and now he was here, but not for you, no, but for Roy. They were all dead.

And you were next.

“Have you ever heard of an alp?” Your head snapped up as Dean’s question pulled you out of your spiraling thoughts.

“An Alp?” Your eyebrows furrowed. “I mean - yes, I came across that lore when I was still taking German literature.”

“You took German Literature?” Dean regretted his question as soon as he asked it.

“Yes,” you answered, but something had shifted in your tone. It was low and pressed. Shit. He knew he should’ve just kept his mouth shut. Sam felt like smacking his brother across the head.

“So you know what they are?” He asked instead, and you shrugged, looking at your feet again.

“Yes, well, I know that the Germans believed that an Alp would sit on their chests while they slept, and it would feed on their good dreams - plaguing the sleeping person with terrible nightmares. That’s why they used to have shortened beds, because if they weren’t lying down, the alp couldn’t sit on their chest.”

While you talked, realization hit you like a brick. Or more like a huge wave, rather, if the feeling of being violently ripped of all air was anything to go by.

“Oh my God,” You breathed out. “Cass and Roy both had nightmares before they died.” You looked between Dean and Sam with shock-widened eyes. “This Alp thing was the reason for all of this, right? I’m gonna die, aren’t I?”

“Not if we have a say in it.” Dean’s jaw remained stoically clenched as he spoke his promise.

“What did you dream about?” Sam asked.

You ducked your head even further into yourself and picked at the skin next to your nails. “’s it important?”

“It could be.”

You took a deep breath and bit the inside of your cheek. “Same as Roy,” you simply said. “Worst day of my life.”

And, okay. Sam didn’t get into college for being slow, he knew exactly what day that was. And judging by the brief flicker of emotion crossing over Dean’s face, he knew, too.

But he didn’t address it and only cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. “Look, if it really is an Alp – which it probably is – then we already know how to get rid of it.”

“We would lure it into a trap. You know, get us some … bait and then just –“ Dean symbolically dragged a finger across his throat.

You raised your eyebrows in concern. “And how do you think that’s gonna work?”

Admittedly, this hadn’t been your smartest moment, but given the circumstances you were in, you figured you could be forgiven.

Sam dipped his head. “That’s where you come in.”

“You can always say no,” Dean carefully offered. “If you don’t want to do it.”

You lifted your chin in the air. “This thing is the reason two of my best friends are dead,” you said. “I want to pay back the favor.”

Sam nodded. “Alright then.”

“So you guys got a plan?” You asked.

Sam and Dean exchanged a look and Dean sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, we do.”

—

It was loud in the cafeteria. It always was. Today, though, you were especially aware of it, because most of the noise was heavily directed towards you.

Or rather, about you, which had just the same effect in your opinion.

You had barely entered the big room and had already felt a few dozen eyes fixated on you. The whispering had started when you got closer to the buffet, and the occasional double-take and looking-fast-away-when-she-is-looking had continued when you had sat down.

Of course, how else should it be, you had been given the rehearsed “My condolences” or “I’m so sorry for your loss”.

Long story short, to you it felt like the day of Roy’s death all over again.

Except this time, they were serving pasta, and not chicken with rice.

It was days like these (which, in your opinion, had been happening far too often over the past few weeks), that made you hate this place even more. It’s not like you had had a reason for that before, the supervisors were nice, so were the helping staff and, of course, Maria.

Maria, who had taken you under her wing from the first day you arrived here. She had acted like a mother towards you, the one you had never had, no matter how hostile you had acted towards her.

Still, as you grew older, the whole thing felt simply more washed out and sickening.

Maybe this really was just a side effect of puberty, as your gynecologist had said.

As you let your gaze travel over the many familiar faces, you couldn’t help but notice that Finn wasn’t under any of them.

Finn, your beloved Finn. You then suddenly remembered the text conversation the two of you had had the other night. Before, well – everything. You still needed to stay true to that.

Silently, you made a note to yourself in your head, to drop by his room straight after lu-

A broad silhouette squeezing into the seat opposite you blocked your view over the hall, and your eyebrows shot up as you realized who it was.

“Uhm, hello?” You asked as Dean folded his hands on the table.

“You told everyone I was dead?” He asked, purposely skimming over your question.

You frowned and opened the small package of parmesan. “Well, aren’t you? About six times?”

Dean frowned and you caught him counting something under his breath with his fingers.

You shook your head, making a point of ignoring him and poured sauce over the dry spaghetti.

“That’s not even my point.”

“What, you’re saying you didn’t barge into the middle of my lunch – after the night I had – to scold me over the inaccuracy of your death rate?” You clicked your tongue. “Surprise.”

Dean apparently didn’t deem it necessary to address your sarcastic tone. That, or he knew just how much he deserved it, which you were fine with, either way.

“Look,” he started, and Jesus, this was going to be serious. “I wanted to talk to you about what happened last night.”

Confused, you tilted your head.

“I mean about the dream,” Dean quickly added. “I mean, we both know what it was about, and I just …” He cut himself off, cleared his throat, and let out a short breath that was probably supposed to be failed attempt at a laugh.

“I’m not a big … talking guy, you know? But I just … I always told myself, if I ever had kids, that I would be different then. That …” He stopped again.

“I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry.”

You scoffed. “You’re a bit late for that,” you spat. “I mean, it’s been what, almost a decade? ‘Sorry’ travels far, but not that many years.”

“I know that,” Dean said, “But I want you to know, that-“

“Well, I don’t want to know!” You interrupted him. Maybe too loud, if the simultaneous turn of heads was anything to go by. “I don’t want you to tell me anything. No excuses, no explanations, I want, and I need absolutely nothing from you, you understand?”

Dean bit the inside of his cheek.

“Believe me, I do.” He said. “But still-“

“No!” The dishes clattered as you slammed your hand on the table. “Dean, you don’t understand! You just left me here, at this orphanage –“

“It’s a group home.”

“Same thing, Dean!” You snapped. “Just a fancier word.”

Dean carefully pulled his hand away from the table, folding it with his other in his lap. You could feel him watching you, but you consequently avoided his gaze.

“Look, I’m not gonna have this conversation right now,” You decided. “I am going to go talk to my best friend, and when I go to sleep, I’ll try not to get killed! So goodbye.”

And with that, you picked up your still full lunch-tray, dumped it on one of the cleaning wagons, and made your way out of the cafeteria.

You never turned around to see Dean looking after you.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

St. George, Louisiana 2012

Dean Winchester was standing by a window. Through the clean glass he had a clear view of green gardens, well-kept flowers and trees leaning in the soft breeze of the wind.

Further away, he spotted the tall hedge walls of something that had to be a garden maze.

“I hope you know just how grateful I am for what you and your brother did for me.”

The voice of Maria Whitlock lifted Dean out of his thoughts, and he turned around to face the older woman.

She spoke in a soothing tone, one that reminded him of a mother he never had, but learned to long for.

Dean nodded. “That’s our job.”

Maria gave him a look and tilted her head. He was standing in her office, a neatly tidied room with a shelf for books and files, and a rather expensive looking desk. Very clean as well.

“What you decided to do was probably very hard,” she continued. “But I can assure you, in most cases, it turns out to be the better option for both parties.”

He didn’t like the way she talked about his plan like it was a good thing, when it wasn’t. It didn’t make him a good person for doing it.

“I’m sure, Dean, that there will be a lovely family out there who will take care of her –“

“No, no, no, that’s not what I meant.” He quickly interrupted her. It was the first time in here he had spoken more than for words. “I don’t … I don’t want someone else to take her in.”

Maria raised her skeptical eyebrows at him. “Do I understand correctly, Dean?” She asked. “You want her to just - stay here?” And her tone was implying exactly what she held of that idea.

“Look, I know how that sounds.”

“I really hope you do.”

“But my job doesn’t allow me to properly take care of her. When Bobby was still - well, she stayed with him, and we visited her from time to time.”

Maria nodded. “I understand. But what you have to understand, is, that this will surely not be easy for her. Whereas many of the elder children indeed do live here, the younger ones are usually adopted by a foster family who can take care of them. Who can love them,” she added.

Dean looked out the window again.

“I understand that,” He said. “But this is how I want it.”

He couldn’t see Maria behind him, as he was turned away from her, but he could well sense the way her observing, maybe judging gaze was burning between his shoulder blades.

“Well, then.” She sighed.

And as Dean watched the flowers dance in the wind, listening to Maria shuffling through her papers, he couldn’t help but think that this might be one of the most selfish decisions he has ever made.

—

Soft wind was tugging at Dean’s hair. Somewhere in the distance he was aware of the rippling water of a small fountain.

Dean tried to not actively think of what he was doing here. Of the consequences his actions would inevitably cause. He knew he wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Y/N’s hand was holding his in a strong grip, as they walked up to Maria and he greeted her.

Maria leaned down to be on eye level with his daughter and smiled at her.

“Hello Y/N, it’s very nice to meet you. Your Dad has told me so much about you! I’m sure you’ll settle in here just nicely.”

Dean crouched down and placed both his arms on Y/N’s for her to look at him. She had been eyeing Maria and the castle suspiciously.

“Look at me, sweetheart,” he started. “Maria is really, really nice. And because Uncle Sam and I have to work so much, she is going to take very good care of you.”

Y/N averted his eyes and stared at her shoes. Then, sh burst forward, slung her small arms around Dean’s neck and buried her face in his chest.

“I wanna go with you,” she mumbled into his jacket. Dean sighed. With a heavy heart, be broke out of the embrace. “I promise I’m old enough, I want to go with you!” She pleaded again. With every word, Dean’s heart shattered just a bit more.

“Look, you remember when you stayed with Grandpa Bobby for a while when me and Uncle Sammy had to work?” She nodded, sniffling.

“This is gonna be just like that. I promise.”

Y/N sniffled again. Then she held out her hand to him. “Pinky promise?”

I promise that we’ll be fine.

I promise that we’d never just leave you alone.

I promise that Grandpa Bobby will be alright.

Dean pulled Y/N into his chest again. He breathed in deep, as if that would somehow help him savor this moment, savor her to be engraved in his brain to never forget. His little girl, the only thing good and pure in his life.

“Have fun, sweetheart,” he said when they broke apart again.

He stood up, and even though he wasn’t that old, everything in his body hurt at the movement.

“But I don’t know anyone here!” Y/N said again. It has been her go-to argument the entire car ride to the castle.

“I want to go with you and Uncle Sam!”

“Y/N!” The sharpness in Dean’s tone felt like it was cutting him. “I said you can’t.”

Her bottom lip started to tremble, before a big tear rolled down her cheek. Then another one, and another one, until she was full-on sobbing.

“Please, Dad!” She cried, and Dean’s heart shattered.

Behind her, Maria put a caring hand on her shoulder.

“Come on, sweetie, say goodbye to your dad.”

Y/N violently shook her hand off her body. “No! No, I don’t want to go with you! I want to stay with my dad!”

Maria and Dean exchanged a look. In her eyes, he recognized something that told him to change his mind.

It took everything in Dean to turn around and walk away.

He fixated his eyes on his car a few feet away from him. He wasn’t walking very fast, but with the weight that felt tied to his feet, it was the best he could do.

Behind him, Y/N kept crying. And as she was pleading and pleading, for him to come back, for him to stay, the feeling of realization started heavily sinking in, that he was really waking away.

Not only from this situation, from his daughters cries, but from her. From his child.

His feet felt even heavier.

When he reached the car door and opened it, he didn’t feel anything. Everything happened in a haze. He vaguely registered starting the car and pressing his foot on the gas pedal.

His daughter’s sobs were still replaying over and over in his mind like the sounds of a broken vinyl, as the naked road flew by the dirty windows.

Sam didn’t address the single tear that rolled down his brother’s cheek. And Dean just kept driving.

༺｡° ୨❀୧ °｡༻

Now

Since forever on, you had never been quite good with your emotions. Portraying them, talking about them, feeling them.

It was an obstacle.

Looking back at it, you figured it was probably somehow running in your family, the whole being emotionally unavailable thing.

Could that be inherited? According to your biology teacher, yes, but you didn’t know how well you believed that.

Nevertheless, as you knocked on the cold door that was the entrance to your - only left – best friend’s room, emotions welled up in your throat as choking as a tidal wave clashing its weight over your head.

It was dark in there. The curtains had been pulled closed and the thick material wouldn’t let a flicker of daylight in the room.

A smell hung over the entire place, of stale air and leftover food, and the sensation of hopelessness. Finn was sitting on the edge of his bed, a dark silhouette staring crooked at his hands in his lap, only illuminated by the weak light of the bedside lamp.

Without properly acknowledging him, you took quick strides to the other side of the room, and without further ado, ripped his curtains open.

The sun was already lowering down the horizon again, but the leftover light was still enough to turn the dark silhouettes in the bedroom into concrete shapes, of dirty plates, glasses, and clothes scattered all over the floor.

From his place on the bed, Finn groaned lowly, like a small bear being awaken from hibernation.

He rubbed a hand over his eyes as you sat down next to him. The bed dipped under your weight and you moved over a few study sheets that laid on his duvet.

“Hey,” you said.

Finn dropped his hands into his lap again and turned his tired gaze on you.

“Hey,” he said back.

“You wanna talk about it?”

Finn’s eyes tiredly scanned the room around him, the mess it was in, and then shook his head.

“Nah.”

“Alright.” You weren’t, really, but that conversation could wait until another time.

“How you holdin’ up?”

Finn tilted his head to you in a way that said ‘Ain’t it obvious?’ and you shrugged in response. “Stupid question, got it.”

Finn sighed.

There was a silence building between the two of you that you didn’t like. You kept yourself from fidgeting impatiently on the sheets.

“I just-“ Finn cut himself off and ruffled his hand through his hair. “Ever since – well, yesterday – I’ve been thinking about …”

He broke off again, blinking with his face towards the ceiling to avoid the falling of tears.

“Y/N, the last thing I said to her, was – we fought.” Finn’s confession was almost a whimper as he looked at you, awaiting your reaction.

Your heart broke at the look in his eyes, so clouded full with guilt and self-loathing, you almost didn’t recognize him.

“Oh, Finn, she loved you.” You sighed, and placed a gentle yet firm hand on his arm. “She knew what you were going through, what we were all going through. And trust me, she never, not for a second, held it against you. That was one moment out of almost ten years we all spent together. It didn’t mean anything, not in the long run.”

Finn sniffed and rubbed his nose, diverting his gaze to his hands again.

“Finn, she didn’t die hating you.” You put emphasis on every word as much as you could, because you wanted him to hear you, to understand, to believe. You didn’t want to let him wallow in his own self-destructing thoughts about something that wasn’t even true, not in the slightest bit.

Finn just hummed, but didn’t meet your eyes, just kept them trained on his lap. You sighed and let your hand slowly slide from his arm.

For a while, it was quiet again.

“My father is here,” you then blurted out.

Finn’s eyebrows shot up. “The one that died?”

“Yeah.” You weighed your head. “In my defense, I thought he died too, until he showed up in a fancy suit, investigating my best friend’s murder.”

The typical phrase of ‘seeing gears turning in someone’s head’ was the only way you would describe what you were seeing displayed on Finn’s face right now, just before the realization hit him.

“Wait, your father’s one of the hot FBI agents?”

You pursed your lips and nodded.

Finn blinked in disbelief.

“Wow,” He breathed out.

“Yup.” You said, popping the ‘p’. “Just got a lot less hot, huh?”

Finn raised his hands in surrender and shook his head. “For my own safety, I’m really not gonna answer that.”

You let out a laugh and playfully shoved him with your shoulder.

“Idiot.”

Finn grinned. “You love me.”

You hummed. “You’re right, I really do.”

A long while later, the door closed behind you again with a click.

Finn had to promise you to get in touch with you if he felt the need to, and to at least try and keep his room in order. After a brief conversation of how his view of himself and his ‘need to call you’ was very different from yours, you had hugged him and decided to leave.

Before you had walked out, your hand had rested on the handle, and you had turned around to Finn, not quite looking him in the eye.

“You know I love you too, right?” You had said. “No matter what happens.”

Finn frowned, but if he got suspicious, he didn’t mention it. “I know. Same here.”

You swallowed and nodded.

Then you left the room.

Now you were standing outside of his door, gaze drifting into the distance, and the same weight that had been lifted off your shoulders replaced by another one, just as heavy.

Funny, how, even if indirectly, saying your Goodbyes, made the lingering presence of death looming over you like a dark shadow much more real. If only one thing went wrong tonight, then-

You shook your head at the thought. No, Sam and Dean were going to take care of it, they promised. You had to put their trust into them with this.

But if tonight really was it, then you were content with the feeling that the last conversation you had, had been with Finnegan Beckett.

The walk back to your room stretched longer than usual.

--

Sooner than you would like it to, the sun disappeared behind the hills and night reigned over the land.

Sam and Dean were standing in your room, rehearsing their – honestly, pretty vague – plan with you, making sure you knew exactly how everything would go down. To be fair, you didn’t really play a big part in the whole thing, but it was nice having some sort of reassurance.

“Alright, so you know what to do?” Sam questioned once again.

Slowly, you nodded your head. “Lay still and look pretty,” you joked. “And try not to get killed.”

“Leave that last part to us,” said Dean. “You don’t have to worry about anything. By the time you wake up, everything will be over.”

You nodded.

You had seen it in Dean’s eyes, that he wasn’t all in with the idea of using you as bait, but you had done it nevertheless.

You weren’t a little child anymore, especially not his, he wasn’t going to decide what you wanted or not wanted to risk.

You took a deep breath that lifted your shoulders and huffed it back out. You were going to do this. It was easy.

—

Like hell it was.

Whoever told you you had the easiest part of the plan had been fucking lying to you. Turns out, sleeping is way harder with the knowledge of probable death hanging over your head like a dark cloud.

Every time your eyes slipped closed, a glimpse of doubt squeezed its way into your mind. What if Sam and Dean didn’t make it? What if everything went wrong? What if, in the end, you did die?

The sheets were already pooling crumbled by your feet when you slipped out of consciousness.

--

The mass of hot bodies pressing together and towering over you was clamming. A figure was running away from you, you were chasing after it. You smelt old leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted. You wanted more of it.

Gravel clattered underneath your boots as you got out of the car on your own, like all the big girls would.

“Look, Daddy!” But Daddy wasn’t there.

“Come on, I’ll help you.” There she was again, the nice girl with the black hair. She held out her hand and you went to grab it, her warm presence looming you in, and then the floor opened up under your feet and you were falling into nothingness.

--

Your heart pounded rapidly in your chest, as you startled awake in your bed, feeling your lungs tighten up and making it hard to breathe.

Your panicked gaze flew to the door of your room – wide open, the light of the hall casting a dim shadow into the room.

“Wha- Sam! Dean!” Hastily, you pulled the covers off your body and hurried out the door. Something must have gone wrong, terribly, terribly wrong.

You followed the sound of footsteps and scuffle down the hallway, turned the lights on where it had gone off at a few junctions.

Your breathing was still shallow, but you pushed through that and your still dazing mind, adrenaline pumping through your veins with every step you took.

Rapidly turning around another corner, you almost stumbled over the long legs of Sam’s body on the floor. You came to an abrupt halt and kneeled worried next to him.

“Sam? Oh my God, are you-“

Sam groaned and moved his head, eyes still pressed shut. “’s strong,” he babbled, and you tried your hardest to understand what he was saying.

By the way he was slurring his words, you had well reason to think he had suffered a concussion.

“It’s alright, stay here,” you ordered him, as he tried to sit up.

Only then, you first noticed the struggling noises a few feet away from you, and lifted your eyes away from Sam to check where they were coming from.

What you saw almost made your heart drop into your stomach.

Not that far away from you, maybe a few armlengths, was Dean, laying on the floor on his back just like his brother. But he was wrestling with something sitting on his chest, something small and hairy, hunchbacked like an old witch but only with the size of a cat.

The thing, which had to be the Alp, had long, bony limbs, and was fighting tooth and nail, hissing, biting and scratching, against Dean.

It reminded you of a gremlin, of sorts.

In your head, you heard Roy’s voice scold you, “There’s a distinct difference between all supernatural creatures. Elves don’t equal fairies, and gremlins don’t equal goblins, because while gremlins are fuzzy and cute in the beginning and only bad later when they turn, goblins have always been known for harassing humans.”

Alright, so no gremlin then.

Near you, Dean was still rolling around on the floor, fighting for the upper hand with the Alp.

Your heart sped up as you realized that something had to be wrong. Because why wasn’t he just killing it?

--

“So how do you kill it?”

Sam pulled something out of his duffel bag and turned it in his hands, the dim light of your lamp reflecting on the material. “Silver dagger dipped in vampire blood.” He spoke.

“Wait – vampires bleed?”

Dean scoffed. “This isn’t Twilight, kiddo. Yes, vampires bleed.”

You shrugged and inspected the phial he had laid into your hand. “I was thinking more of Fear Street, but alright.”

Dean ignored that he didn’t know what that was, but made a mental note to look it up later.

Sam stuffed the dagger back into his arsenal.

“You don’t have to worry about that part, though,” He assured you. “That’s what we’re here for.”

Dean nodded. “He’s right. You just dream sweet, and we’ll handle the rest. Fool-proof.”

You nodded, passing Dean the blood back. You could only hope they were right.

--

The shining silver of the dagger caught your eye. It had most likely been scattered away from Dean and landed near a wall, far out of his reach.

You took quick steps over to pick it up, Dean’s struggling grunts making you alert, and probably the reason why you didn’t think about what you did next, you just did it.

The silver dagger felt light in your hands, coated in the dark fluid of what had to be vampire blood. The blade reflected the clinical white light from the hallway as you lifted it up over your head, and, using the strength of both your hands, pushed it with force into the monster’s upper torso.

The squelching sound it made, as it penetrated bristly fur, skin, and organs, would later make you feel repulsed and gagging, sort of like nails scratching on a blackboard, but in this moment, you just clenched the dagger tighter and pushed it further into the monster’s chest.

The screech it let out could not be compared to any animalistic sounds you had ever heard before. In a swift move, you pulled the weapon out of the Alp’s body, and the small creature slumped to the floor right next to Dean.

You waited for a second. Two, three panting breaths. Dean was the first to move. He put a hand somewhere where the thing’s neck should be.

Then, swallowing in-between his hard breaths, he nodded. “Done,” was all he said. But it was enough for a sigh of relief to leave your tired lungs, and you sunk to the ground right next to him.

Looking closer at its lifeless body, the Alp had more similarity with one of those dead, stuffed animals that hunters hung in their houses as trophies. But maybe that was just rigor mortis.

Through your haze, you barely registered Dean clapping a firm hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look at him, eyes suddenly feeling heavy as the adrenaline was wearing off. Like sucking air out of a balloon.

“You did good today, kid.” He said, and though you were tired, in his eyes you could see that he meant it. It filled your chest with a warmth that hadn’t been at home in there since … God knows when, and it made you smile.

Near you, Sam staggered closer, still holding his hurting ribs, and tilted his head as he squinted his eyes at the lifeless Alp before you.

“Is it just me or does it … look like a cat?”

You and Dean both looked over at him, and then at the dead monster on the floor.

“Looks more like a gremlin-goblin hybrid,” You panted. “A gromblin.”

Sam threw you a look of pure confusion, while Dean was grinning proudly. You smiled back. It felt honest.

And very likely, it was.

-- It was quiet again.

From the fight and struggles a few days ago was no trace left, as you stood by your desk and sorted through some old photographs you had replaced on your wall.

The pictures you were sorting through mostly showed you, Finn, Roy and Cass together.

At school, at the movies, going out to eat.

You sighed and plucked some tape from the back of another one.

Right at that moment, a knock sounded from your door. Without even looking up from Cass and Roy smiling at you, holding a stray cat, you let out a “Come in,” at the person on the other side of the door.

The familiar sound of the hinges creaking signified the opening and closing of the door. And then, Dean Winchester was standing in your room.

“Uhm …” He was rubbing his neck awkwardly, as you looked at him expectantly.

“Hey. What’s up?” You asked, and put the photographs in a drawer.

Dean took a deep breath and looked at you. He wasn’t wearing the same casual clothes as he had been that terrible night, but had settled on his FBI suit again. Maybe for effect.

“Look, I was just-“ Dean fumbled for a second and then took a seat on the small chair that was standing around. “We should talk. This time for real.”

You tilted your head, and avoided looking at him.

Dean didn’t wait for any response, he simply kept talking. Maye rambling.

“I know I already tried, but it wasn’t my best, so I …” He sighed.

“I never explained anything to you. why things went down how they did. Y/N, please look at me.”

You had sat down in your deskchair, pulling your legs to your chest and now did your best to fix your eyes on Dean.

“What we do, the hunting … it’s no way to grow up for a child. I know how that is. And I never, ever, wanted that for you. I already had plans to end things sooner than they did, but then ..” He shook his head. “Didn’t work out. So, when Bobby died, I saw no other chance than to get you somewhere else. And I took that chance to just … remove you from my life, as hard as it was.”

“But I promise you, Y/N, it was all just to keep you safe. I never would’ve done it if there had been another way. And I wanted you to know that.”

Dean stood on his feet again and placed the chair back on its original spot. You looked away as he reached for the door handle, to get out of your life, again.

“So you’re just gonna leave? Again?” Your words were accusing and they were meant to be that way, but still you almost felt bad, as Dean dropped his hand by his side and let out a sigh.

“Like I said, it was for the best. Still is, in my opinion.”

“What, to remove me from your life again?” You jumped out of your chair, fury burning in your eyes and voice growing louder with every word you spoke.

“Y/N, you don’t get it-“

“No, you don’t get it!” You jelled at him. What was burning in your eyes were now more tears than anger, but it didn’t matter.

“For years, I’ve been trying to … to figure out what I did wrong. For years, I’ve been trying to do better, every day, I wanted to be better, because I thought —. I thought that if I had good grades, and if I started working out, and if I was always on my best behavior … I thought that you would come and get me. But somehow you never did. And I just … I don’t understand, I want you to tell me, what did I do wrong, what made you leave, because I swear, I’ll change. I’ll change, and I’ll work on it, just please…” A begging undertone accompanied your tear-choked words. “Don’t leave me here again.”

Wordlessly, Dean quickly crossed the room and put his arms around you. it took you a second to realize what was even happening, before you clung to his suit jacket, digging all your strength into it, as if the fabric was the only think that kept you from drowning in black water.

You felt the shadow of warmth, as Dean turned his head to press a featherlight kiss into your hair.

“I regret having to leave you.” He murmured next to your ear. “But what I do not regret is keeping you safe. Even if that meant leaving you.”

You sniffled, and pulled away from him. Dean’s own face wasn’t full of fresh tear stains, but still you could see the sincerity and something like sadness on his features.

You wiped your cheeks to clean them off the drying liquids.

“I’m older now,” You said, and Dean scoffed, already knowing where this was headed. “No, please, listen to me! I’m older, I can make my own choices, take my own risks. You saw how great I was a few days ago!”

“Yes, but that was one monster!” Dean countered. “Out there, there are hundreds of those things. We don’t get enough sleep, no nice food, not even nice beds! Trust me, Y/N, compared to this-“ he gestured around your room, “what we do has nothing on it.”

You shook your head. “But you’re together when you do it. You and Sam. And I just want that, I want to be with you.”

Dean sighed and took a step back.

“Please, Dean, I’m begging you!” You urged. “You said you never wanted to come back here, but now you had to, I mean – don’t you think that’s some sort of … sign or something?”

“I don’t believe in signs.”

“Well, screw signs, I’m here!” You pointed to yourself. Your voice was desperate, but so were you.

“I am here, and I want you to take me with you.” And in a whisper, you repeated, “Please, Dean, this time – let me come with you.”

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, Dean heavily sighed and pulled the chair closer to him to sit down.

--

The church bells were tolling a loud, fast tune. It was ironic, you thought, and you didn’t know if you should cry or laugh about it.

You watched as two dark caskets were lowered down into the earth, into two separate 6-feet deep holes right next to each other.

The gravestones had not yet been prepared, but you didn’t exactly need those anyway. If the huge pictures were any indicator on who was getting buried here.

This was your last time saying Goodbye. To Cass and to Roy, and, unfortunately, to the last one remaining.

Funerals weren’t for the dead, you had once read somewhere, they were for the living, for those seeking closure in their desperate times of grief.

You had thought it to be bullshit, what difference would a burial make in a journey of overcoming the loss of someone so important?

But, as you threw a full hand of dark earth onto each of the dark caskets, you somehow understood. It was one weight less.

They were still here, some part of them. Something you could always come back to, they hadn’t just vanished off the back off the earth. That thought was, indeed, comforting.

Damn life lessons that are right.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard a voice next to you, and were a bit surprised to see Finn standing there.

You had been too lost in your own thoughts to even notice him approaching. The lack of sleep probably didn’t help your attention skills much, either.

“Hey,” you answered.

“Look, I need to tell you something,” you started, just at the same time as Finn said, “I know what you wanna say.”

Both of you let out quiet laughs.

“You first,” He said.

You took a deep breath and avoided looking at him, scanning the gravestones before you as if you had known everyone buried under them personally.

“Sam and Dean,” you started, “I mean, they’ve been here for a while and honestly, I never even thought I’d see them again. So I never really thought about what would happen if they would just – show up, you know?”

Interesting, Peter Gravill only lived to be 57 years old.

“But now they’re here, and I just-“

“I get it.” Finn suddenly interrupted you. Your head whirled around so fast you were afraid you were gonna get whiplash.

At your confused look, he added, “I mean, if my parents suddenly showed up on my doorstep and gave me the option of going with them –“ he shrugged his shoulders. “-I would most definitely take it.”

Before you could even think about it, you already lunged forwards and wrapped your arms around his body, burying your face in his neck and holding him tightly.

The hot feeling of tears burned behind your eyes, but you managed to put them away. You pulled Finn even closer.

“Everything’s gonna be alright, kid.”

“You’re still younger than me.”

“I don’t care. I love you.”

“I love you too, Y/N.”

The hug lasted endless, but endless went by way too quickly. You fixed Finn’s suit jacket, apologized for the tear- and make-up stains you had gotten on the expensive material, and waved him a last Goodbye.

Down by the parking lot, a black car was already waiting for you, two adult men leaning against it. They had been watching the entire thing go down from a safe distance, not wanting to interfere in either the funeral, or the emotional Goodbyes.

Sam tried not to think about what laid ahead of them, or behind them, as his niece walked towards them, away from the graves of her best friends, and leaving the only one that was still alive, behind.

His niece. How long hadn’t he said that title, let alone thought it.

He liked the familiarity of it. The rightness.

Dean opened a creaking car door for you, as you reached them.

“You ready?” He asked.

Sam could see your shoulders tighten, as you lifted your chin, and looked his brother straight in the eye.

“Yeah.”

Dean nodded, and you got in the backseat. He slammed the car door closed behind you. With one last look at his younger brother, Dean rounded Baby and took his place as the driver, Sam claiming shotgun.

Behind them, you leaned your head against the window as the engine roared and you drove off.

The car smelt like leather and gunpowder. It made you feel comforted.

And in the backseat of an old 1967 Chevy Impala, listening to the music that was a mix of Metallica, Kansas and Billy Joel, you slept the best night’s sleep you had had in weeks.

taglist:

@psycho-magnotheric-slime , @openmindedperson2200 , @emily-roberts

[it-was-too-cold-always]

We're Not in CW Anymore - 6

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5

The reader gets blasted into another universe - one where Sam and Dean Winchester are real people, real hunters, and really fucked up. To her surprise (or horror), Dean has been getting glimpses of her life in his dreams and is completely enamored with her. It's nothing like the cable-friendly CW show that she knows and loves.

Reader x Dean Winchester

Warnings: language, violence

Chapter 6: The Family Business

“Dean, that’s not a fucking ghost!” you yelled. “It’s Family Remains!” you said as if that would explain the situation.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean yelled back, shooting you a look of confusion. Before you could reply, the psycho girl pulled a knife out from her pocket and bolted towards Sam.

“Everyone to the shed!” you commanded, ushering the family out the front door. Surely the boys could handle a little girl with a knife, you told yourself. You were saving people, they were hunting things. The family business, right?

You practically shoved the family into the shed and took a headcount – the son was missing.

“Danny? Where’s Danny? Oh my god, where’s my son?” the mom sobbed, bolting to the door. You quickly grabbed her and put your hands on her shoulders, preventing her from leaving.

“Listen to me, your son is okay,” you said, knowing exactly where he was – the demon kids have him tied up underneath the house. You definitely remember that part. “You’re going to have to trust me. They won’t hurt him. I promise,” you said firmly. You sat her down on a bench and rubbed her back. “I know it’s hard, but we’re safer together. Once Sam and Dean get back, we’re going to get your son.” You got up from the bench and walked towards the door. “I’m going to stand guard. Stay put,” you instructed. The authority in your voice surprised you. Look at you, being brave. Maybe you could do this hunting stuff after all.

You waited outside for what felt like forever, every rustle from the bushes causing you to jump out of your skin. Finally you saw Sam and Dean run out the front door towards you. Thank god. Dean put his hand protectively on the small of your back and guided you into the shed. He stood close to you, looking over his shoulder to see if the girl followed them outside.

“Okay Y/N, time to explain,” Sam said, shutting the shed door behind him.

“Okay so this is Family Remains – my favorite episode, remember? I told you about it at the diner. What killed the old man wasn’t a ghost, it was his granddaughter, who literally lives in the walls of the house. Well, granddaughter/daughter, he was a nasty man. Anyways, it’s not a ghost, there’s a boy and girl who live in the walls and underneath the house. They’re crazy, completely removed from the world, and out for blood. They have the son tied up under the house. There’s a spot in the kitchen that we can open up and get right to him,” you explained. “How’d it go with the girl?” you asked, noticing the blood spatter on their clothes.

“She won’t be a problem anymore,” Dean said. It sent a shiver down your spine – the man you were warming up to just stabbed a little girl to death. A crazy ass killer little girl, but still. Her blood was all over his flannel.

“Okay well the brother is still a threat. And he’s probably pissed we just killed his sister,” Sam said. “Y/N, what’s the plan? What happens next?”

“Well first we have to open up that spot in the kitchen wall. Dean, you go down there while Sam and the dad make a rope out of sheets. All your guns are down with the son, so you’ll be able to neutralize the brother,” you explain. “He’s going to come for you, so you have to watch out. But he’s never seen the light of day, so shine a flashlight in his face. It should stun him long enough for you to grab a gun.”

Dean nods, turning to Sam. “Well, Sammy, sounds like we’ve got a plan.”

As you walked back to the house, your stomach did flips. You hoped to god you were right. In the actual episode, the mom kills the girl. Does this change things, now that Dean had already killed her? Is this reality different? Maybe the son wasn’t safe like you promised. The thought made you want to vomit.

Sam made quick work of opening up the drywall in the kitchen. Immediately the smell of rotting flesh wafted into the room. It made you want to gag. You covered your mouth and nose with your hand to get some relief from that rancid smell. Sam and Dean seemed unphased.

“Jesus christ, that’s disgusting! Do you smell that?” the dad exclaimed.

“Every goddamn day,” Sam said flatly, setting down the hammer.

You turned your gaze to Dean, fear welling up inside you. He was about to go right into the danger pit, and you weren’t entirely sure he’d make it out alive. His eyes met yours and it felt like he could read your mind.

“Am I about to die? Because you’re looking at me like I’m about to die,” Dean said, a little amusement in his voice. He clearly did not share the same concern you did.

“No, I’m just…this is going a little different than the episode. I’m worried other things will be different too,” you said solemnly. “Please, be careful.”

“Sweetheart, I’m always careful,” he said, leaning in to peck your cheek. “Just another day at the office.” He shot you a wink before lowering himself into the hole in the wall. “Please nobody grab my leg, please nobody grab my leg,” you could hear him say. Even in the face of danger, he was making you smile.

The silence that followed was painful. Unlike in the show, you couldn’t see what was happening. You busied yourself with the sheets, tying them together as securely as you could. The sound of two gunshots made you jump. You looked over at Sam, who gave you a look of reassurance. They do this every day, you told yourself. Dean’s a big boy, he can handle himself.

Danny’s shouts from the hole in the wall made you spring into action – thankfully you had just finished tying up the last sheet onto your makeshift rope. Sam and the dad quickly pulled the boy up. As the father and son embraced, Sam shouted down into the wall, “Dean! Get your ass over here!”

Several beats of silence passed before you heard Dean’s gruff voice shout back, “Sammy, knock off the attitude! I’m grabbing all our shit. Those kleptos threw everything down here.”

You let out a sigh of relief – he was okay. He was good enough to be snarky and irritated.

By the time the family was fully reunited in the shed (minus the dog), the sun was starting to rise. Dean turned to Sam, rubbing his hands together.

“Bodies or tires first?” he asked. You blinked – what did he just ask?

“Bodies. I hate changing tires,” Sam replied. “Y/N, grab a shovel. The sooner we finish, the sooner we can go the fuck to sleep.”

The boys shoveled into the hard soil with ease. You, however, were struggling. Dean, sensing your frustration, suggested you grab the lighter fluid from the car. You were more than happy to do so. You practically skipped to the driveway. When you came back, the 6-foot hole was almost done.

“Grab the girl, I’ll go get the boy,” Sam told you.

“Absolutely not. I’ll grab the girl. Y/N stays here,” Dean snapped.

“Someone’s gotta finish digging this hole, Dean,” Sam replied.

“It’s fine, I gotta pull my weight,” you jumped in, though you were not entirely sure. Would you be able to handle carrying a dead body? Not only mentally but physically? You were about to find out.

Making your way into the living room, you saw the lifeless body of the little girl slumped in the middle of the room. Taking a deep breath, you squatted down and picked her up bridal style. It was rough at first – she was heavier, dirtier, and smellier than she looked. Once you were able to stand up, it was easier.

As you approached the hole, you saw Sam leaning up against a tree, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. Just another day at the office. From the hole, Dean reached his arms out to take the body from you. The boy was already laying down there next to Dean’s feet. Dean put the girl down next to her brother, and with a ridiculous amount of agility, hopped out of the hole. Sam dumped salt and squirted the lighter fluid generously into the grave and set it alight. Dean sat on the ground, catching his breath from jumping out of the grave. Sam chuckled at a video he was watching on his phone. Their casual demeanor really took you off guard.

“Um, I got the tires,” the dad shouted from the side of the house. You could sense his hesitancy from here. You don’t blame him. Who would want to approach the two massive men who just lit two dead bodies on fire?

With a frustrated groan, Dean got up from the ground. “You can do the car and U-Haul. I’ll do the Impala. I don’t trust your grubby little hands with her,” Dean said to Sam.

It didn’t take long for them to put the new tires on the vehicles. The mother repeatedly thanked you, giving you countless hugs and crying about how you saved her baby. Despite how you felt about the two kids that you just helped salt and burn, you were very grateful that the family was okay. You supposed that, overall, this was a win.

The three of you couldn’t decide on a place to eat, so Dean took it upon himself to pull into the nearest burger joint. Sam shot him a look, and he shrugged. “I’m sure they have some sort of salad here. Quit whining.” Dean, of course, ordered a bacon cheeseburger, Sam got the only salad on the menu, and you opted for a BLT. The food arrived quickly, and the boys immediately dived in.

As you took a bite of your sandwich, the images of the dead little girl flashed in your mind. Her face was sunken, eyes wide open, frozen in horror. Her final moments were pure fear. Your heart clenched in your chest. This poor girl lived a miserable life. Did she even have a name? Your stomach did flips as you thought about it. Suddenly you weren’t very hungry.

Dean watched you as you set down your sandwich and pushed your plate away. He tried handing you his burger. “Want mine?” he asked, as if the issue was with the BLT and not the horrific night you endured. You shook your head.

“How do you guys do this? All the smells and the gore, and you’re chowing down only hours later. Doesn’t it disturb you?” you asked. They shrugged and continued eating.

“You get used to it after a while,” Sam replied. “Sure, there are still some situations that will make me lose my appetite, but it’s rare these days.”

“But…you killed two kids today. And the smell of their flesh burning…it was awful. You aren’t bothered by it at all?” You couldn’t believe they could treat this like any other day. They were so nonchalant about it.

“Decomposing flesh burning – now that’s a smell that’ll bother me,” Dean said with a mouthful of food.

You looked at him in disbelief. But then it dawned on you – to them, this IS any other day. The horrors you witnessed today were something they see every damn day. The smells, the screams, the tragedy. Your soulmate was a hardened killer.

Tags 💛

@5tud10-54r4h  @deans-spinster-witch @nelachu2423 @nancymcl @nelachu2423 @ghxul-x @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @verypostcrown @thej2report @lyarr24 @kazsrm67 @lino-se @pycobutterpie @beforethepen @pizzagirlxnsfwx @globetrotter28

[typinggently]

[teeny tiny fragment inspired by this older Sam/younger Dean set]

"You have to be quick. The time switch will only work as long as the witch is alive. As soon as her body hits the floor, you have to be ready to jump." Sam loads the colt as he speaks, voice strained a little. They're pressed for time, even if the witch doesn't know they're coming just yet. When he noticed that opposite of him, Dean's hands have slowed where they were sharpening his knife, he looks up.

It's still so strange to see him, this version of him, now. He looks mismatched, with the gold so prominent in his too-soft hair and the little sunburn on his nose. It's crazy to think that this is the Dean from his memories who, by this point, was already hustling pool and killing ghouls on his own. The flannel he's wearing would fit Dean as Sam knows him now, but this Dean has to roll up the sleeves, showing off his bony wrists and a few scratches on tan skin. Not for the first time, Sam wonders if Dean was ever truly as big and as strong as Sam thought. He doesn't look it, now. He looks delicate, if anything. And he's staring at Sam with that glassy-eyed, dazed expression again.

"Hey. Hey."

Long lashes flutter, the bridge of Dean's nose turning pinker still. "What," he sputters, his grip on the knife tightening. "I was listening!"

Sam frowns, points at the whetstone. "I remember you being better at that. This is really important, Dean. We get one shot at this. So if you've got something on your mind we need to discuss beforehand, you better say it now."

Dean bristles like a cat. "What? Dude, I- I dunno. This is just weird. You being so- so huge, with your big hands and that bossy tone of voice. I guess you remind me of dad. Or something. I don't -" And he puts his hand over his mouth, knuckle pressed to his nose, eyes off to the side. His shoulders are hunched, he's pink up to the tips of his ears.

[alexsoenomel]

Agent's Sin (Dean Winchester x Reader smut)

Summary: A handsome FBI agent walks into a bar where you work.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: reader had a shitty childhood and trauma (no details), alcohol consumption, age gap (Reader is 23 and Dean is 41), cheesy flirting and sexy times

Word count: 3.2k

Note: I had a block but not anymore? This happened. Hope you enjoy, I sure did writing it.

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)  

A Sleazy bar wasn’t your first choice but you had to start somewhere. You were a broke college student with no savings, far away from home and you had to feed yourself. Dealing with drunks was easy, considering your dad was one until he had his last bottle of vodka that killed him one Friday night. The pent-up rage you buried deep inside your soul would resurface every now and then whenever someone decided to be a mean drunk like your late father. You would never get violent, you could never hit a man, but cursing and telling them to leave before you would call Karl to throw some punches – you could and you did that. He was a gentle 6′ 8″ giant; security guard; nicest guy to be around, but a damn beast whenever someone decided to get too touchy with you or just straight up be a dick.

Every day was the same: you would wake up, go to classes and after classes straight to work. You had the same three meals every day, slept for six hours max and didn’t have any time for yourself. The money was okay; tips coming left and right considering the amount of creepy, old men visiting the joint and getting drunk after clocking out. They would tell you how beautiful you were, and you would just give them a fake smile and pour them another one. Your smile wasn’t a million-dollar smile in Hollywood, but it certainly brought in some extra cash. It was exhausting to act like you were flattered by the comments, but considering the state of your bank account, you had no other choice. 

Wednesday was coming to an end and you were ready to clock out when a tall, very good-looking man walked in and sat right in front of you at the counter. He was gorgeous; hedgehog-like hair, freckles scattered all over his face like stars in the sky and hypnotizing green eyes. You swallowed thickly as soon as you saw him eyeing you with a smirk on his face. You told Karl to leave early that day. Poor dude almost got stabbed after trying to defend a woman from a very drunk individual who didn’t understand the meaning of the word no. 

Men made you nervous, you didn’t trust them, but something was telling you that this one was harmless. 

“What can I get you?” You asked. You were a little annoyed since it was almost closing time but chose to stay silent.  The bar was empty anyways, hopefully he would have his drink and leave after a few minutes.

“Whiskey. Any kind. Neat,” he said, before he bit his lower lip, his gaze fixed on you.

His voice was deep and raspy, covering your body in goosebumps almost immediately, before your brain told you to snap out of it and pour him the damn drink. 

“Coming right up!” You smiled forcefully. 

You poured him the best whiskey you had – Rittenhouse Rye Whiskey. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you knew that its distinct and spicy flavor was top notch. You had gotten drunk a couple of times on the job. Dealing with sleazy bastards would sometimes get too much for your brain, so alcohol was the antidote. The handsome stranger immediately took a sip and sighed in satisfaction. 

“Rittenhouse?” 

“Yeah,” you answered him. 

“Good choice.” 

“My favorite,” you lied with a soft smile. It wasn’t your favorite. You hated hard liquor. You would only drink it when you wanted to get drunk – no joys in that whatsoever.

Watching him take another sip you noticed a couple of things: he was much older than you; he looked tired and had a small cut on his lower lip. His red flannel was perfectly wrapped around his frame while the rolled-up sleeves made it hard to look away. Correction, your fascination with vascular arms made it hard to look away. 

He wasn’t subtle either. His eyes scanned your face; he was searching for something. Feeling like the whole world was watching, you decided to turn around and focus on getting the rest of freshly washed shot glasses polished and ready for tomorrow’s shift. Your cheeks were burning as your hands became slippery; your body felt foreign. You felt your fingers go numb as the shot glass you took slipped and hit the floor shattering everywhere.  

“Ugh, crap!” You mumbled. 

“Rough day at work?” You heard him say. 

“You have no idea,” You turned around to face him. His eyes were dark, illuminating in dimmed lights, still watching you. 

You ignored his gaze and went in the back to get a broom and clean the mess you made. When you came back you noticed his glass was empty. 

“Another round?” 

He nodded and raised his glass for you to pour another one. 

“Make it double.”

You registered his demand, but stayed silent. You had a feeling he wasn’t leaving anytime soon. The familiar riff of Don’t Fear the Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult started playing when the whiskey bottle touched his glass. Your head followed the rhythm, moving left and right as you started to hum the lyrics. 

“You look too young to know the lyrics of this song,” he said, taking a sip of his drink. 

“And how old do you think I am?” 

“You’re old enough to serve alcohol, so 21?” 

“Nice guess, but no. I’m 23.” 

The handsome stranger didn’t expect you to be almost 20 years younger than him. His brows shot up in surprise before he said: “Awesome!” 

“There’s nothing awesome about being a broke college student dealing with creepy drunks every night, old man!” You said, not really knowing where the old man comment came from. You desperately wanted to spark-up the conversation with the man in front of you, but you were never the one to break the ice and actually talk to strangers. So far this was great.

“You think I’m old?” He asked with a soft smile on his face. He didn’t seem bothered by your comment. 

“You are definitely older than me so yeah, kinda.” 

“How old?” 

“In your early 40s.” 

The lines around his eyes coming through whenever he would smile and freckles covering his face were a dead giveaway. He probably once was a beautiful young boy – you thought. Once that innocence was taken away, he grew up, but his beauty stayed intact. He was now a beautiful and tormented man.

“41,” he said.

You then exchanged your names. His name was Dean. He was just passing by after finishing a job in Lincoln. 

“What kind of job?” You asked. 

His hand went to the right pocket on his flannel and he showed you his credentials. FBI it said.

“Special agent has a nice ring to it,” you commented and decided, since you were closing soon, to lock the front door. “I promise you I’m going to let you go, I just don’t want any new customers.” 

“When do you close?”

You took your phone from the back pocket of your jeans before answering: “In about 10 minutes.” 

“Have a drink with me then! I promise I won’t tell your boss,” He winked. 

You were taken aback by his invitation that sounded more like a demand. You could feel the tension in the air rising; something about Dean was luring you in even though deep down you knew it was wrong. You had been dating your boyfriend, Dan, for sometime now, but it didn’t seem right. You got along just fine, but something was missing. He was sweet, too sweet sometimes, and yet you didn’t have a sweet tooth. You met through a mutual friend and after a few months of boring dates and sex you were over it. Eventually you told him you needed a break from it all, lying through your teeth, saying you wanted some time alone to focus on upcoming exams. You didn’t have the heart to break his. He was sad but decided to respect your decision.

That was two weeks ago. He would text you every day and you would simply ignore it.

A sigh left your lips before you went behind the counter and decided to pour yourself a glass of whiskey. 

I’m going to regret this.

“Cheers!” Dean said, lifting his glass.

“Cheers, agent!”

Click!

The hard liquor was burning your throat and you pretended to like it and not show how much it actually hurt. Right now you wanted to get drunk as fast as possible; you wanted to feel comfortable around him even though he was a complete stranger.

“You’re going to get me fired, Dean!” You said and chugged the rest of the whiskey from your glass. 

“Woah, you really had a rough day, huh?” 

You wasted no time and poured yourself another. Your throat was on fire, but your brain was slowly becoming numb. It was working. 

“More like rough life! Cheers!” You lifted your glass and took a sip.

The more you drank, the more details you noticed about Dean. His eyes crinkling, his long thick fingers gently holding the glass, his pink lips pressed against the glass… There was a need waking up inside of you with each sip you took. The liquor was dissolving away your sense of restraint and any sanity you had left; all you wanted to do was to crash your drunken lips on his.

“How rough?” Dean asked you. 

“Abusive alcoholic father and a deadbeat mother rough,” you said, now feeling tipsy wanting to sit. You moved an empty wooden crate that was on your left and turned it upside down so you could use it to climb the counter and sit next to Dean. He was fallowing your every move, admiring your legs. 

“So, daddy and mommy issues? That is rough!” 

You shared a look. Up close, he was even more beautiful. You could see every line on his face, around his eyes, lips, and cheek. Every line had a story and perfectly melted into his skin. You quickly looked away, refusing to show him you were completely under his spell.

“Do you work in the Behavior analysis unit? Can you tell I'm chronically searching for approval and acceptance from people but at the same time not giving a shit and trusting no one?”

You weren’t familiar with the branches of the FBI; you just watched too many Criminal Minds episodes.

Dean chuckled. “Not really.”

His hand suddenly went to your thigh as your legs were dangling from the counter. Your heartbeat was in your throat, but at the same time you felt a sense of calm. You knew it was wrong; he was twice your age; FBI agent and yet this was the most excited you had ever been. Your soon to be ex didn't even cross your mind. Something about this man was pulling you in and not letting go.

You finally got the courage you needed to look at him and not look away. He seemed sober, more sober than you at least… 

“Your hand is on my thigh, agent,” you finally said, forcing the last drop of confidence out of yourself. Your walls were crumbling and your desires were resurfacing.

“Tell me to fuck off then,” he suddenly stood up, equalizing the height difference. His other hand went to your other thigh as he gently pulled your legs apart, standing between them. His face was inches away from you, even if you wanted to, you couldn’t look away. 

“You make it hard to, though,” your skin was on fire, burning for the man you met almost two hours ago. You only knew his first name, his occupation and that he had an awesome taste in music. He was a stranger and yet felt so familiar.

Your words weren’t necessary anymore. You knew what you needed and realized he, too, craved the same thing. The life he was living was exhausting and full of lies; he wanted to forget about his fake badge and lies that he told over the years. He cupped your face with his hands and gently pressed his lips on yours. It was a soft kiss at first, which quickly deepened and grew with lust and want. You wrapped your hands around his neck pulling him closer as your legs were wrapped around his torso. You wanted him impossibly close. Light groans and moans filled the bar as you didn’t break away until breathing became a necessity. Panting and red around your mouth from his stubble, you rested your forehead against his.

“I’d invite you to my place, but I don’t think my roommate would appreciate me coming home with an FBI agent.” 

His eyebrows went up before he asked: “Right here?” 

“If you knew how much puke I had to clean just this week…”

Dean’s nose wrinkled slightly. He chugged the rest of his whiskey, feeling a pleasant burn in his throat.

“My car! Now!” He demanded, taking your hand as you jumped off the counter. 

You unlocked the door and saw the only car that was parked, right in front of the bar – black, shiny and beautiful Chevy Impala. You hadn’t seen cars like this for a long time.

You opened the back door and went in. Immediately, you were hit with the smell of leather. Dean followed you and shut the door behind him.  

“Nice ride, agent!” You commented and decided to get up and straddle him. He wasn’t protesting, letting you settle on his lap.

“Thank you!” He sounded almost proud.

You kissed him, feeling the exhale through his nose on your face before he opened his mouth giving you permission to deepen the kiss. The taste of whiskey was still in his mouth and in a strange way you felt like you were getting drunk and losing control with each and every kiss. Dean’s hand went into your hair, pulling it lightly and making knots you’d have to take care of tomorrow. You kissed for a while, your hands roaming, desperately searching for naked skin to touch and explore. Naturally, as you started to grow impatient, your hips started to move, grinding against him. You could feel him getting hard underneath you; he was bigger than you expected. When you couldn't breathe, your lips moved lower, kissing his neck and your fingers started to unbutton his shirt.

"Too bad you're not wearing a suit," you told him, between kisses. "I bet you look hot as fuck while chasing the bad guys." 

Dean chuckled at your comment, not wanting to admit he was flattered. He undid the bottoms of your jeans and his two fingers slid inside feeling your already wet cunt dripping with pleasure. His two fingers slid inside with ease. Your lips parted as you moaned his name. "I bet you look hot as fuck moaning my name, sweetheart."

This man was different. His scent, a light mix between pine trees, whiskey and leather; eyes so green you would think they were little gemstones staring at your soul in the dark; his age…It was a fatal mix, worth potentially getting fired or hurt for.

After taking your sweet time to unbutton his shirt, you could touch his bare skin. His fingers were still there, between your legs, slowly pumping in and out, but you wanted more. 

"Fuck me!" You whimpered. "Please!"

"Needy!" He said, placing kisses above your jaw. 

"Desperate," you corrected him.

It has been too long since you last had good sex. Too fucking long. You forgot what it was like to orgasm without your favorite toy. Your soon to be ex did absolutely nothing for your body and soul. No matter how hard you tried, how much you talked – he just wasn't working for you.

Dean liked the words coming from your mouth, so he decided to stop playing games. He pulled his hand out of your pants and licked his fingers clean. 

"Almost as sweet as you," he exclaimed. 

You felt your cheeks burn. He took off your shirt and soon after, your bra. Your chest was completely bare but you weren't worried about someone seeing you. It was dark outside and the only light that you had were from the street lights surrounding you. He placed gentle kisses on both of your breasts before he told you to lay down. You said nothing and did what he told you. He took off his shirt before pulling your pants down, taking them off without you lifting your hips.

"Damn baby, you're gorgeous," he said in awe. 

He was the one to talk; his upper body was carved by the highest of the Gods and his angelic, yet rough facial features made it hard to not stare. The universe created Leonardo da Vinci's Vitruvian man a couple of centuries later and sent it straight to you. The man undoubtedly had perfect face and body proportions.

"You're making me blush, agent."

He took off his jeans, struggling to find room before kissing you again. It was getting cold in the car since it was late October but his body was now pressed against yours, keeping you warm and safe. Your hand went to feel his fully hard cock before letting him put it in you.

"Please!" You begged again, feeling the desperation in your voice, but not being embarrassed about it. 

"Okay, okay!" He whispered, finally ready to give you what you want.

He moved your panties to the side, being too eager to take them off, and let his cock free as he lowered his boxers. Without warning he entered you, stretching your walls and making you gasp in a weird mix of pleasure and pain. He was big, so getting used to his size was going to take a couple of seconds. Your fingers dug into his shoulder blades as he started to move slowly. 

"Am I hurting you?" He asked worriedly. 

You whispered a no and kissed him as he started to move again. Soon enough, pleasure took over completely and you couldn't leave the sound of his name out of your mouth. His kisses became messy, slowly losing control over his body and movements as his pace became frantic. His right hand wrapped around your neck putting just enough pressure for you to completely fall apart.

The air in the car was hot and stuffy, and steam started to form on the windows. The sound of your wet cunt taking him over and over again mixed with Dean's moans and grunts; you knew you were going to cum. 

"I- I" you tried to speak but nothing could come out. 

Dean's eyes locked with yours in a moment, both completely consumed with each other…

"Come on baby!" He told you, his voice raspy and sexy. You couldn't get enough of it.

Soon enough you came all over his cock, biting his shoulder, trying to muffle the scream of pleasure. He hissed but didn't say anything as he came soon after. You felt his hot seed filling you up completely as you thanked the universe you were on birth control.

You were both panting, sweaty and speechless. Dean rested his forehead on yours, trying to calm down. 

"So…can I get your number?" He asked.

"Only if you wear a suit the next time we see each other."

"Roger that!" He smiled.

[little-diable]

Kinktober Day 31 – Dean Winchester

And now Kinktober is over once again, it passed by way too quickly! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🩶 Day 31 🩶 knife

Warnings: 18+, piv, shower, blood, use of a knife (duh)

Dean Winchester x fem!reader (1.2k words)

header by @deathofpeaceofmind

My Kinktober Masterlist

She was heavily panting, eyes focused on Dean’s bloody features. He was breathing just as heavily as she was, still shaken up by their somewhat successful hunt. While Sammy had stayed behind, (y/n) and Dean had decided to hunt a vampire down, preparing to fight against a nest of creatures both detested. And even though both had made it out alive, neither of them felt like they’d succeeded, unable to put their thoughts into words. 

The lamp of the motel bathroom alighted both their features, giving one another the chance to study their partner, trying to find wounds they’d need to take care of before sleeping this very night away. Dean took a step closer, hand still wrapped around his knife. She didn’t dare move, teeth running along her lower lip, trying to stay quiet as Dean pressed his front against hers. 

With his cold hand finding her chin, he forced (y/n) to look at him, pressing his lips against hers. A moan rumbled through the both of them, searching one another’s closeness, desperate for this kind of distraction. Dean pushed her against the sink, lips kissing their way down her neck as her fingers got to work, unbuttoning his bloody flannel, exposing his toned arms, a sight that would always leave her trembling for more. 

“I hate seeing you getting hurt, fuck, I wanted to kill them all, make them pay for touching you.” His voice dripped with possessiveness, forest green eyes turning a shade darker. (Y/n) could only hum, watching his hand move closer with the knife pushed against the neckline of her shirt. Dean didn’t speak another warning before he cut the fabric in half, making her breath hitch in her chest. No further word left her, feeling the tip of the blade pressing into her skin, tracing its way down the valley between her breasts. “Take off your bra, baby, let me look at you.” 

Trembling hands undid her bra, groaning as the cold knife was pressed against her hardening nipples, while his eyes kept searching hers, watching every reaction that tugged on her features. She was putty in his hands, would do whatever Dean asked of her, one with the man who owned her heart, one with the man she’d live through hundreds of lifetimes if she only could. 

His tongue darted out to wet his lips while his eyes flickered down to his knife, cupping her left breast with his free hand. Her moans guided him on, tracing the path down to her belly, slightly digging the knife into her skin without drawing any blood. Dean couldn’t help but feel powerful, guided on by the feeling of owning (y/n), knowing that he could do as he pleases, she’d allow it all. 

“Dean,” his name rolled off her tongue like a prayer, hoping that the Lord above would pick up on her begging. “I need you, please let me feel you.” 

Another fast kiss was pressed against her lips, a kiss that distracted her from the feeling of the knife being moved up her body, finding its way to her neck. Her blood was rushing, senses heightened, very well knowing that even though this was nothing but a game, Dean could easily end their time together right there and then. He parted from her with a grin, hand finding her waist to turn her towards the sink, eyes finding hers in the mirror. 

“I would burn earth to the ground for you, sweetheart.” His murmured words left her whimpering, watching Dean trace her skin with the knife, finding joy in the goosebumps littering her body. Their hearts roared in sync, begging one another to find solace in their company, to find their way together in the most intimate way imaginable. Without another warning Dean parted from her, with the knife finding its way to the sink and his hands pulling his shirt over his head. 

No words were spoken as he turned on the shower, watching her undress with trembling movements, stepping into the shower with Dean following moments later. Their lips found back together like magnets searching opposite poles, pushing her against the shower tiles before his fingers found her pulsing clit. 

“Don’t tease, Dean, fuck me.” Her whispers were swallowed by the hot water cascading down his back, washing away the reminders of their hunt, allowing them to forget about what had happened these past hours. The way he looked down on her made her wonder if anybody else had ever been fortunate enough to experience this kind of love, a love so sincere, so honest it left (y/n) breathless. She wrapped her arms around his neck as Dean lifted one of her legs up to his waist, allowing him to align his cock with her entrance. 

“I love you,” he spoke the loving three words, cock slowly pushed into her tightness, groaning at the feeling of her walls clenching around him. He fucked her slow, gave her enough time to adjust to the calm rhythm, to the feeling of Dean pulling out of her only to push in deeper. 

The moans leaving them echoed through the small bathroom, somewhat swallowed by the shower and yet they were loud enough to communicate with one another. The second their eyes met, Dean added more force to his thrusts, tightening his hold on her leg as his other palm was pressed against the tiles. 

Dean’s thrusts turned into something rather brutal, urged on by (y/n)’s pants, by the feeling of her walls fluttering around his aching cock, by the feeling of her nails scratching at his shoulders. A moment so raw, so perfect, Dean couldn’t help but thank his lucky stars for pushing them together all these years ago. He perfectly managed to hit her sweet spot, pushing her closer and closer to the edge, riled up by all his teasing. 

“Fuck, Dean, don’t you dare stop.” She could only hope that he wouldn’t tease her again, that he would push her over the edge within the next moments. One of her hands found her clit, rubbing the sensitive bundle with quick circles, set on matching his ferocious thrusts. Dean’s groans buzzed through her body, making her moan in sync as she felt the knot growing tighter, set on letting go. 

With a string of curses leaving both, they came in unison, making her feel his cum painting her walls white, leaving his stain on her. 

“You okay, baby?” (Y/n) could only nod, pulling Dean in for another kiss before she allowed him to pull away, finally getting to washing her, taking care of the woman he’d eventually marry, set on loving her till the end of their time together.