#I know there is Dean Winchester being an asshole tag

[vaicomcas]

There is "Castiel's family being assholes (Supernatural)" common tag in AO3, but no "The Winchesters being assholes (Supernatural)" tag?

I have to do everything myself, don't I?

[hintsofhoney]

Mine

Paring(s): Alpha!Dean Winchester x F!Omega!Reader

Summary: When Dean is forced to mark Y/N in order to not blow their cover on a case, it leads him to reveal a secret that he's been keeping since they met.

Square(s) Filled: biting for @anyfandomkinkbingo

Tags: 18+, true mates, smut, p in v, marking, a/b/o if that wasn't already obvious lmao, knotting

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: Helloooo, it's been a minute. If I'm being honest, I have about 10-15 finished works just sitting in my "ready to post" folder, but posting is always such an ordeal, so they just stay there until I feel like dealing with Tumblr. But, this one I did write over the last two days after I finished reading Bride by Ali Hazelwood, which I loved so much that it made me want to dip my toes into the Omegaverse! That being said, I don't know how much in here is actually in line with A/B/O "rules", but I know I needed to twist some things to fit the story (e.g. in this specific A/B/O fic/universe, claiming marks will fade if they're not true mates). Huge thank you to my A/B/O girlies, @makeadealwithdean and @emoryhemsworth, for reading it over, I love you both to the moon and back! I hope you all enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

“We get in, find the knife, get out, got it?” Dean asks, looking between Sam in the front seat and Y/N in the back, making sure everyone is on the same page. They both nod once in understanding, before the three of them make their way out of the car, their doors slamming shut simultaneously. 

Y/N stares up at the mansion before them, the music loud, the party raging. It’s some charity event thrown by the wealthiest Alpha in the state, and he just happens to have the weapon they need to finish out this hunt. Y/N stumbles a bit, tripping over the cobblestone driveway in her heels, and she catches the sleeve of Dean’s suit to steady herself. He shoots her a glare that tells her to pull it together. They need to blend in.

“Sorry,” she whispers.

“Here,” Dean replies, grabbing her wrist and pulling it through the crook formed by his bent elbow, forcing them to walk arm-in-arm.

“I don’t need –”

“You are an Omega, Y/N. And there are upwards of a hundred Alphas here who can all smell it. So what you need to do is start acting like one. Just because I’m not some asshole Alpha who demands your respect doesn’t mean they aren’t, and we can’t risk drawing attention to ourselves.”

Y/N takes a deep breath and plasters on a fake smile as they move slowly up the driveway. “Anyone who demands my respect just because of some bullshit biological hierarchy doesn’t deserve it,” she grits out.

Dean stops, turning to face her, one of his hands on either side of her biceps. “Do you want to be on this case or not?” 

His voice is lower than usual, demanding and gruff. A voice he only uses when he wants to remind her that he is an Alpha, and bullshit biological hierarchy aside, her body is wired to listen to him. 

She gulps, and he tries not to focus on the bob in her throat, the pulse in her neck near her gland, the scent of her. The moment he met her he knew who she was, what they were. Are. He’s been taking scent blockers since before he met her, finding it far easier to interact with other Alphas when investigating cases if they couldn’t scent him out, but the moment he met her, he knew he had to start taking rut blockers too. Though, it feels like the longer he’s around her, the more immune he becomes to the pills. Like she’s going to send him into a rut any fucking second, and she has no idea. He’s thought about telling her so many times, but mates come with strings. Strings that aren’t conducive to the life of a hunter.

“Yes,” she answers his question meekly, almost submissively, and he nods to cover the hormones he forces himself to swallow down. Rejecting your biology is not easy, no matter how many pills you take.

“Then I’m going to need you to take my arm, put on a smile, and act like being an Omega is the greatest joy of your life. That means –”

“I know how to be a good little Omega, Dean,” she interrupts, dragging the words ‘good little Omega’ through a sarcastic tone.

He tenses slightly at her words, sarcastic or not. Good little Omega.

“I’m only bad for you,” she continues with a cheeky wink, and fuck, he might explode. Hell, he might take her into the bushes right now and mark her, claim her, before parading her around in front of this entire fucking party with his teeth marks on her neck. He’s rigid, trying to keep himself under control, and she gives him a playful pat on his shoulder. “Lighten up, Alpha,” she teases. “I’ll be a good girl.”

Jesus fucking Christ. He gives her biceps a squeeze that he hopes comes off as reassuring as he’s trying to make it seem, before linking his arm with hers once more and catching up to Sam at the front of the driveway.

The trio is greeted by the owner of the mansion himself, one Jim Myers, who welcomes them in with a smile on his face and a cigar in his hand. 

“How Gatsby-esque,” Y/N mutters under her breath, watching as Myers shakes Sam’s hand.

Dean nods in agreement. “You definitely wore the right outfit.”

Y/N blushes as she looks down at her dress; a black, semi body-hugging cocktail dress bedazzled with gold sequins in some sort of art deco pattern. All she’s missing is a cigarette holder and a feather in her hair. 

“Only because I read the invitation. Unlike some of us,” she mumbles in reply.

“Watch it, Omega,” Dean grits out, plastering on a smile as soon as Myers comes over to greet him.

“Jim Myers, pleasure,” he says, shaking Dean’s hand.

“Dean. And this is Y/N.”

She keeps the cordial smile on her face as Jim takes her hand and brings it to his lips, kissing it gently before inhaling her scent. 

“Pleasure, Miss Y/N,” he says with a feral grin, his eyes darkening with unmistakable lust as he lets her hand fall back to her side. 

Dean takes a step forward, unable to stop himself. “Mine,” he practically growls, and Jim takes a step back, throwing his hands up in surrender. 

“My apologies. I didn’t see a mark, so I just assumed.”

Dean falters, clearing his throat, suddenly reminded of the reason they’re all here in the first place. “No, that’s alright. It’s my fault for not putting it in a visible place.” His eyes dart over to Y/N’s. “I think I’m gonna fix that.”

She ducks her head but can’t hide the red flush that creeps up into her cheeks, reminding herself that it’s just her biology, and that this is all for show anyway. They’re here to do a job, and sometimes those jobs involve… well, whatever the hell just happened. And clearly, Dean is a better actor than she gives him credit for.

Jim chuckles, clasping his hands together. “Well, you three have fun, the drinks are free, the food is good, and if you,” he points at Sam, “good sir, are in search of an Omega, there are plenty to choose from.”

Sam blushes. “Right.” He nods. “Thanks.”

And with that, Jim disappears into the crowd.

“I’ll keep an eye on him,” Sam says. “You two go. Upstairs, down the hall, third door on the right. If I got the right blueprints.”

“If you got the right blueprints?” Dean asks.

“Just go.” He taps his ear to indicate that he’ll drop in on Dean’s earpiece if anything goes wrong. 

Dean sighs, taking Y/N by the hand and leading her up the stairs. He weaves in and out of the crowd, the scents of everyone mixing together, making it impossible to decipher who is what. Y/N’s never been more glad to be on heat suppressors; knowing full well the scents of this many Alphas invading her nostrils would send her body into a major one.

Dean quickly finds the door, and they slip into the room unnoticed, closing the barrier and switching on the light. It’s a bedroom — the master, from the looks of it — and the knife is right in front of them in the middle of the room, across from the foot of the bed. It’s in a glass case, on display, and likely armed with a million alarms, but right in front of them nonetheless. 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mutters, running a hand through his hair as he thinks about what the next move should be.

“We could find something that weighs the same? Lift the glass and replace it super fast?” Y/N offers.

“Unfortunately, I think it’s the glass that’s probably set to trip an alarm. But the fact that you’re applying Indiana Jones to real life scenarios is making me want to —” 

He stops himself, realizing what he was about to say. He needs to get himself under control but Y/N in that dress with her smart fucking mouth, with other Alphas eyeing her, he really shouldn’t be here, with her, alone, and —

“Making you want to what?” she asks.

Shit. “Making me want to… make you watch more of them,” he replies, opting to circle the display case, searching it for a way in to distract himself from her. 

“Oh, goody. Can’t wait.” She’s as monotone and sarcastic as ever, and every time something smart comes out of her mouth he has to resist the urge to bend her over and fuck her right then.

“Get out of there now,” Sam’s voice comes in on Dean’s earpiece. “Lost track of him for a few seconds, just found him again. He’s making his way upstairs.”

“Shit,” Dean says. “Shit, shit, shit.” He looks around the room frantically. If they go out the door, Myers will without a doubt see them leaving his room. “Myers is coming,” he explains to a confused-looking Y/N.

“Fucking — God dammit.” She looks around too, for a hiding spot, for a weapon, and then she spots herself in the mirror hanging on the wall and an idea comes to her. “Mark me,” she orders.

“What?” Dean snaps, his attention fully on her.

“Get over here and mark me. You told him you were going to make it visible.” She continues before Dean can protest. “Who knows if it’ll even stay, it’s not like we’re mates, right? And if it does, I don’t mind being bound to you for the rest of ever. It’s not like I’m having much luck in the relationship department anyway. But we need that knife, and we’re not going to get it if we don’t –”

“Fuck,” he says under his breath with a quick shake of his head, before he strides across the room and pushes her up against the wall just in time to hear the door click. He inhales her scent, his mouth trailing from the base of her jaw all the way down to her mating gland where it hovers as the door opens all the way. Then he bites down.

Y/N throws her head back, her fingers digging into Dean’s shoulders as his teeth sink into her, and none of it is for show. The pain is euphoric, and her senses heighten, and she suddenly wishes she hadn’t been so stringent on taking her fucking pills, because whatever this feeling is, coursing through her veins, settling in her core, she needs to feel it more. She can’t stand how dulled it is, how it just stays there, simmering underneath the surface. She wants to erupt. 

“Mm, fuck, Alpha!” she cries out, no trace of sarcasm in her voice, and Dean’s hands grip her hips tight enough to bruise them. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Jim exclaims. “Got an alert that someone was in here, there’s some very valuable things in here, you see, and I just wanted to make sure —”

Dean pulls away from her neck long enough to shoot him a glare that translates to “get out or I’m going to kill you”, and Jim gets the message, backing out the door and shutting it behind him. 

“Fuck,” Dean breathes, letting his forehead fall to Y/N’s shoulder. He shouldn’t be so close to her. He should back away, give himself some space to breathe. But her scent keeps him rooted in place. It’s her usual scent; something like freshly baked sugar cookies and vanilla, sweet and enticing, but there’s something else, something —

“Are you guys okay?” Sam’s voice in his damn ear again.

Dean lifts his head and presses the button on his earpiece to reply. “Fine, Sam. Give us a second.” Then he takes the earpiece out and tosses it over his shoulder, more agitated than he should be at his brother just trying to check in.

“Dean,” she breathes, and she sounds absolutely wrecked. She brings her hands to his cheeks, forcing him to look at her. “Are you okay?” 

He nods. Her touch is like fire on his skin. He needs her. 

Y/N squeezes her thighs together. She’s never been able to scent Dean before, but he’s never been this close for this long. He’s never marked her, either. Right now his scent is breaking through the suppressants, little by little. It’s bits of cedar and leather and whiskey, and she’s never smelt anything like it, yet it is so familiar somehow. It invades her senses, and if this is what he smells like with suppressants, she’s terrified of what would happen without them.

“Dean… your scent.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply.

“Fuck, my pills must’ve worn off, I —”

She shakes her head. “It’s dulled but… but it’s there.” Her thighs clench together again, and she needs him back on her skin. “It’s there and it’s so fucking good.”

Dean’s eyes fall to the gland on her neck, and the severity of what he’s done comes crashing into him like a wrecking ball. It’s enough to force him to take a step away from her, panic rising in his chest. “I – fuck. I marked you. I fucking marked you.”

Y/N’s fingers come up to graze the indent on her neck, and she shudders at the touch. “I told you to.”

“No, you don’t understand, Y/N –”

“I know what happens when mates get marked, Dean,” she interrupts matter-of-factly. “I’m sure this’ll fade.”

“It won’t. I – I shouldn’t have done that. Fuck. Fuck!” He turns to the wall next to him, hitting it with the side of his closed fist. 

“Dean.” Her touch on his arm is gentle and comforting, but he doesn’t turn to face her. “You need to calm down. It’s really not a big deal, I –”

Dean takes a deep breath, both hands on the wall now as he collects himself. He can’t even bring himself to look at her when he says, “You’re my mate, Y/N.”

She takes a step back, and her fading scent is what makes him finally face her. She’s halfway across the room by the time he does. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“You’re my mate, Y/N,” he repeats.

She shakes her head, her hand coming to her neck again, the teeth marks seared into her skin. “N-no. H-how? When? How – how long have you known?”

Dean takes another long, deep breath. He could lose her tonight. She could run and never come back and he wouldn’t blame her. “Since we met.”

“THREE YEARS!?” she roars. “YOU’VE KNOWN FOR THREE FUCKING YEARS!?”

“Y/N, I –”

She stalks toward him, one finger outstretched, one fist clenched by her side. She points at him as she backs him into a wall, and he’s incredibly turned on and incredibly scared at the same time. 

“You’ve known that we’re fucking mates for three years, and you didn’t feel as though that was pertinent fucking information to tell me!?”

Dean swallows. “I – it’s – there are… strings with mates. You know that. I didn’t want to ball and chain you. I didn’t want to keep you anywhere you didn’t want to be. And if – fuck – we’re hunters, Y/N. If something had happened to me, and you knew… I didn’t want you to have to live with that. With the pain that comes with losing a true mate.”

Y/N stops half a foot away and drops her accusatory finger. “What did you say?” she whispers.

“True… mates,” Dean breathes.

“We’re…? But… We never – I don’t –”

“With me on my pills, and you on your pills, I think it was enough to… so we just never…”

“But you knew,” she says, closing the gap between them, her hand coming up to caress his cheek. “You knew for so long and you watched me go on dates, had to listen about the… things I did with other Alphas… if I had mated with one of them, you –”

“You deserved to have a choice. Regardless of what I wanted, you deserved to have a choice.” 

“My choice could’ve left you depressed and alone and celibate forever, you fucking dumbass.” 

He shrugs, and her hand falls to rest over his heart. She stares at it as she continues.

“When you… marked me… I felt… I don’t know what I felt. Nothing’s ever been so intense.”

She looks up at him through her eyelashes, and he smiles softly.

“That’s the bond,” he explains, his large palm coming to rest over the hand on his chest. 

“And if we weren’t on… our blockers?”

“If we weren’t on our blockers, there’s no fucking telling how many pups we’d have running around by now.”

Y/N shivers as the thought of being bred settles in her core, and for once she’s not cursing her biology. Dean chuckles faintly at her reaction, dropping his forehead to hers. 

“We can practice in the meantime. Until you decide you want off of them.”

She inhales deeply, taking in as much of his scent as she can. “Oh, I –” another deep breath, “I’m getting off of them for sure.”

Dean lets out a borderline animalistic growl, thinking about how many times he’ll get to fuck her through that first heat. “I’m gonna stop taking my pills, too,” he says breathily.

“Yeah?”

“I had to get on rut blockers when you moved into the Bunker because I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself. But now,” he says, spinning them both around and pinning Y/N against the wall, “now I don’t fuckin’ have to.”

“Dean,” she half gasps, half moans. He kisses the mark on her neck before licking all the way up to her jaw line and pulling back. 

“You drive me fuckin’ crazy, Omega.”

She meets his feral gaze with one of her own, a glint of mischief in her eyes. “Prove it.” 

And it might be an incredibly stupid thing to say to a horny Alpha, but it’s also Dean. And he’d never hurt her.

“Mm, fuck.” His voice is raspy and wrecked and they haven’t even done anything yet. Before Y/N can process what’s happening, he’s picking her up and throwing her onto the bed. He climbs over her, hovering for a moment, taking in her flushed cheeks, the warmth radiating off of her, her scent. “You’re beautiful,” he states plainly, like it’s the one fact in the world that he knows without a doubt to be true. 

Y/N blushes. “Thank you, Alpha.” She says it because she knows what it does to him. 

“You’re beautiful, and I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you.” 

A gasp leaves her lips as he pushes her dress up her hips and moves down her body to the foot of the mattress, his fingertips dancing along the hem of her panties before his eyes meet with hers. She gives him a nod, and it’s all the confirmation he needs before pulling them down her legs and tossing them aside. 

He watches hungrily as she spreads her thighs, her core damn near dripping with her wetness, and if this is what it’s like when she’s on heat blockers, he can’t even begin to imagine what it’ll look like covered in her slick. His cock grows hard in his slacks at the thought, and he has to step off the bed to take off his pants and boxers before the containment grows painful. He shrugs off his suit jacket and white dress shirt too, and when he’s standing in front of the bed, fully naked, Y/N is propping herself up on her elbows to take him in.

“Holy – fuck,” is all she can get out. 

Dean chuckles deeply, one knee coming up onto the mattress as he fists his cock. “Fuck, sweetheart.” He looks her over again, pussy glistening, nipples peaked through her dress. “Fuck, I want you to – would you present for me?”

A smirk spreads across her lips, but she doesn’t say anything before flipping over and assuming the position. Ass up, legs shoulder width apart, chest resting on the mattress. 

Dean lets out a low and guttural, “Fuuuuck,” and it’s enough to make her pussy clench around nothing. She feels the mattress dip behind her, and when his cock starts to move through her folds, she almost cums right then and there. 

“I know you you wish you weren’t an Omega,” he starts, “but you’re a fuckin’ perfect one, baby.” 

She shakes her head, soft whimpers escaping her as he continues to tease her with his dick. “I’m glad I’m an Omega, because I’m yours.” 

With that, Dean loses what little self control he has left. He lines himself up with her entrance and sinks into her heat, and she feels so fucking perfect, the way she molds around his cock. The noises leaving her throat spur him on as he thrusts into her, setting a bruising pace. He wraps his hand around her shoulder for leverage, his other gripping her ass.

“Oh my fuck!” she practically screams, and he can feel how close she is, can smell it. 

“You’re gonna be a good little Omega and cum for me, aren’t you baby?” he pants, and he couldn’t be thrusting deeper if he tried.

She nods frantically. “Yesyesyes, please, Alpha, I wanna to cum. I wanna — mm, fuck — on your —”

She’s too fucked out to even finish her sentence, and Dean can feel himself about to fall over the edge. “What’s that, sweetheart? Speak up.”

“I wanna cum — oh, God! — on your knot. Fucking fill me up, Dean, please.”

He barely manages another thrust before he buries himself to the hilt, the base of his cock swelling inside her as he pumps her full of his seed.

The feeling of him filling her sends her over the edge, her pussy clenching around his cock, his knot, and she feels so full and fucked and sated.

“Oh my fucking fuuuuck,” he groans, feeling her pulse around him. “Fuck, everyone and this fuckin’ party is gonna be able to smell me inside of you.”

She moans at his words.

“Gonna have me dripping down your thighs ‘til we get back home.” His hand squeezes the globe of her ass before he leans over, getting as close to her ear as he can. “And then I’m gonna fuck you again. And again. And again. Because we got three years to make up for.” He nips at her ear playfully. “And now you’re finally mine.”

[bullet-prooflove]

51.He's sitting in the corner with a six pack of Corona - I can so see that for Dean Winchester 👀🥺❤️

Tagging: @kmc1989 @district447 @cosmic-psychickitty @volumesofforgottenlore @spaghettificationandpretzels

Wow this one took a turn I wasn't expecting...

The sun’s just starting to set when you realise you’re being watched. It starts as a pricking on the back of your neck as you run your last lap around the field in Mill’s Park. You try to ignore the sensation and push on with the last hundred metres but it gets worse with every step because you can’t stop thinking about the last time you felt like you were being watched in a fire tower out in the woods.

Your Fleetwood Mac t-shirt clings to your form, the evening breeze ghosts over your balmy skin as you finally slow to a jog. You use the back of your wrist to brush the hair away from your face and that’s when you see him, sitting there on the fence at the corner of the field. There’s an untouched six pack of Corona resting by his feet and that’s when you know that this isn’t Dean Winchester you’re looking at.

You contemplate running but honestly you’re curious. It could have killed you at any point during the last five minutes but it hasn’t, it seems more interested in disguising itself as the man you love rather than harming you. As you approach, it tilts it’s head as if studying you. It’s gaze is curious and analytical, instead of the heat you’re used to from Dean.

“Are you going to share those?” You ask gesturing at the beer and it simply gestures for you to take one. You do, popping the cap off and tucking it in your pocket because you’ve spent too much time as a forest ranger cleaning up other people’s messes.

“You’re not Dean.” You say taking a sip from the beer and it smiles back at you showing far too much teeth.

“No I’m Michael.” It introduces itself. “How did you know?”

“The beer was the initial tip off, he’s usually on his second by the time I’m finished running.” You say gesturing to the rest of the Corona. “After that your body language, your eyes…”

“Ah yes.” Michael says his eyebrows furrowing into a frown as if he’s trying to recall something. “I should have kissed you shouldn’t I? You always respond very well to that.”

A flush creeps across your cheeks because you realise, this thing it has Dean’s memories and if it has those, then it knows you intimately.

“Are you going to kill me?” You ask Michael and he seems to take a moment to debate.

“No.” He says finally as he hops off the fence and takes a step towards you. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

“I don’t…”

He touches you then and you freeze at the sensation of his fingertips brushing lightly over your cheek as he looks into your eyes.

“He loves you, you know?” He murmurs, his nose tracing lightly along yours. “Do you love him too?”

“Yes.” You whisper.

“I wonder what that feels like…”

Before you have a chance to pull away, his arm wraps around your waist pressing you against him. His lips brush over yours and it’s like an explosion tearing through your nerve endings, igniting every single one of your synapses.  A wave of ecstasy crashes through you, followed by another and then another until you’re drowning in the euphoria, unable to keep your head up above the water. You try to pull away but he pins you to him, biting your lower lip as he grinds his hips against you. It’s too fucking much, something inside of you erupts like a star and before you know it, you’re coming in the middle of the fucking field you’ve been running track in since you were a teenager.  

“You fucking asshole.” You spit at him when he releases you and he looks mortally offended as you stumble back a step or two.

“Maybe if we did it together…”

“Do not fucking think about it.” You snap and he sighs as if you’re the one that’s being unreasonable.

“Don’t you want one last night with the man you love?” He asks you as he tucks his hands into the pockets of his jacket. “It could be so much better than it was before…”

“But you’re not the man I love are you?” You say, your voice surprisingly steady. “You’re just wearing his body, thumbing through his memories.”

It’s like talking to a sociopath or a narcissist. He simply looks at you with an expression completely devoid of emotion and that’s when you realise maybe you aren’t too far away from the truth with that assumption.

“You can’t feel anything of your own can you?” You ask him, placing your hands upon your hips. “You can do the physical shit but there’s no emotional component is there? You don’t understand why that might not have been enjoyable for me because you don’t understand the concept of intimacy or love, they’re just words to you aren’t they?”

He looks stricken in that moment because until then, you don’t think he understood the disconnect between him and humanity. He doesn’t say anything in response to your words, he simply turns his back and walks away, leaving you pissed off in the middle of a field with soaked shorts and flushed features.

Your hands are still trembling just a little when you slip your cell phone out of the pocket of your shorts and dial a familiar number.

“Sam.” You respond, your eyes still fixed on Michael as he retreats into the distance. “What the fuck happened to Dean?”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[ninii-winchester]

Crossed Allegiances (Part 2)

Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader

Word count : 6k

Warnings : angst, mentions of sex, BMOL (they should be tagged as a warning), fluff, minor character death, language, canon level violence. And of course not proofread.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

A week passed and Dean visited her everyday. Y/n was now eagerly looking forward to spend time with him everyday. It was all so perfect. It could've been her happily ever after if it weren't for the job. She loved being in his arms, she loved his kisses, she loved being his. He made her feel like she was the only girl in the world. She was too immersed in the bubble she had created that she forgot about the job. But all good things come to an end, and her bubble burst with a phone call.

"Winchester is still refusing to work with us." She heard Ketch's voice.

"I told you to keep your huge ass nose out of my business. It's only been a week. He's Dean Winchester, he doesn't trust easy." She replied rolling her eyes. It was a lie. Dean trusted her, but didn't know and she intends to keep it that way for as long as she can.

"Well, when you're done chumming it up with your boyfriend. Let me know." He hung up on her. Fucking asshole.

Her phone rang again and she rolled her eyes but then a huge smile broke onto her face when she saw it was Dean.

"Hey, sweetheart, you busy?" He asked, it sounded like he was driving the Impala.

"No. What do you have in mind?"

"Well i was thinking we could go on a drive, get dinner and I'll take you to the bunker to meet Sammy." He was smiling, she could hear it in his voice. "Only if you want to." He quickly added.

"You planned it all huh?" She teased him. Her heart was soaring that he was making plans, that wanted to spend time with her. And he was taking her to meet his brother. Over the week she found out that his brother is the most important person in his life. And he was taking her to meet him. She couldn't be happier. "I say let's go."

"I'll see you soon then." Dean pulled up at her apartment after ten minutes. He knocked on the door and she opened it happily inviting him inside. He leaned down to kiss her softly, following her inside her bedroom.

"I'll be ready in a minute." She didn't need to do much, she was already showered and dressed, all she had to do was apply some makeup and brush her hair.

"Take your time, sweetheart." He said plopping down on her bed, watching her with heart eyes. He was acting like a love sick puppy and he knew it. His gaze wandered all over her body and he bit his lip groaning. This woman is making me do things out of my character.

"I'm ready, let's go." Y/n turned around. She wore a simple, well-fitted dress that complemented her figure, paired with minimal makeup—a touch of concealer, a hint of nude lipstick , and a light coat of mascara. Her hair was tied up in a ponytail and the things he wanted to do to her after seeing her like this were insane.

"Let's go, gorgeous."

The road stretched ahead, winding through open fields and scattered trees. The car moved smoothly, its steady hum blending with the music playing in the background. The sun was setting, casting a warm glow across the sky.

A cool breeze flowed through the cracked windows. They talked alot, but there were also long, comfortable silences where the only sounds were the purring of Impala's engine.

After a nice dinner, Dean drove to the outskirts and she looked out of the window curiously.

"Are you taking me somewhere to kill me?" She giggled and he rolled his eyes.

"I have no intention of getting my ass kicked tonight." He replied with a chuckle, knowing shes capable of beating the fuck out of him. "Bunker's pretty isolated." Dean replied stopping the car. He opened the passenger door for her and helped her out of the car. Grasping her hand in his, he opened the bunker door, the hinges creaking loudly. He guided her down the stairs into the war room, and she looked around the place in awe.

A tall man was sitting on one of the chairs in what seemed to be a large study. Upon noticing their presence he stood up from his seat and went over to them. Y/n looked up at the man, and man was he huge. Y/n had to crane her neck a bit to look at his face.

"So you do exist." Sam said with smile, his brother rolling his eyes. "It's so nice to finally put a face to the name." He said holding out his hand for her to shake.

"Hey. Nice you to finally meet you too, Sammy." Sam titled his head a bit at her calling him 'Sammy' and she noticed. "Is that not your name?" She asked quietly. "Dean always talked about his brother Sammy." Sam gave Dean a bitch a face before turning to her with a smile.

"It's Sam." He corrected her.

"Same thing, Sammy." Dean commented with a grin. "Welcome to our humble abode, sweetheart." He added.

"This place his huge." She looked around with wide eyes. Dean placed his hand on the small of her back and leading her to the library. The three of them sat down on the chairs.

"So Dean told me you're not a hunter." Sam started and she nodded her head. "But you fight better than one?" Y/n blushed feeling a bit embarrassed.

"He exaggerated."

"You're being modest." Dean kissed her temple.

"How do you know about all this stuff, the supernatural and the monsters.?" Sam questioned out of genuine curiosity but Y/n squirmed a bit and Dean shot his brother a glare. "You don't have to-"

"Family business, Sam." She gave him forced smile. "My parents were hunters. I just didn't want this life for me." It wasn't a lie per say, but it wasn't the whole truth either. She never knew her parents. She was raised by the Men of Letters to be who she is. But she didn't want that.

"You don't have to talk about it." Dean rubbed her arm lightly. She nodded and they continued to talk. It was getting late and Y/n asked Dean to get her back home. "You could stay the night, sweetheart."

"I don't have my clothes."

"You can sleep in my shirt, in my bed." He whispered in her ear, seductively. His arms encircling her waist. Sam quickly excused himself, not wanting to stay in case things went any further. He wouldn't put it past his brother to be mindful of his surroundings in situations like this.

"Fine." Dean picked her up and carried her to his room. "Damn this place is like a maze." She commented as they reached Dean's room.

"Don't worry, I'll show you around the bunker tomorrow, so you don't get lost." He gave her a shirt and she quickly changed into it. Dean stripped down to his boxers and joined her in bed. "Good night darling."

The next morning Sam found a case, he told them over coffee. Sam was hoping Y/n would want to tag along and he could finally see what Dean was on about but she didn't show any interest. She just asked Dean to drop her back home and told him to be safe out there. To save time, the boys geared up and dropped her at her apartment and went on their way instead of Dean going alone and coming back to the Bunker. Dean called her every given opportunity, keeping her updated about the hunt. He told her they'd be back tomorrow. After getting off the phone with Dean, Y/n dialled Ketch.

"Bring your ugly ass to the bunker on Friday. Bring your finest alcohol. Make it seem like you're offering a truce and trying again." She ordered. She had a plan in mind.

"Don't give me orders." He said with his teeth clenched. "I'll see you in five days."

"Asshole." She muttered to herself as he hung up.

Dean came back from the hunt, met up with her and left on another hunt. He called her the other and told her he's going another hunt and she sighed over the phone. She missed him. She wanted to be back in his arms. And she needed him to be back before Friday or she won't hear the end of it from Ketch.

Thursday evening Y/n was lounging in her living room flipping through channels. A knock on the door resounded and she went to open the door. There stood Dean, covered in dirt and a bouquet of flowers in his hands.

"Dean what're you doing here?" She questioned letting him in.

"The hunt was an easy one so we finished early and came back. I also happened to miss my girl so here I am." Dean flashed her a smile, handing her the flowers.

His girl. As those two words filled her with warmth inside, a bucket of ice cold water splashed on her as she remembered the reason she was with him. She was deceiving him. Playing with him. Manipulating him.

She didn't want to remember it at the moment, she needed to forget, she grabbed him by the lapels of his jacked pulling him onto her. Pressing her lips to his, "baby, I'm all dirty." He mumbled against her lips. She responded with a little "shut up" pushing him on the bed.

The two laid under the covers, completely naked, panting a bit from the activities that took place earlier. "Someone missed me." Dean smirked.

"I did." She shifted on his chest. His fingers trailing down her bare back. "Can I come over to the bunker? I can cook for you and Sam."

"Sure you can. You don't have to ask." He caressed her cheek. "Will you make pie?" He grinned up at her and she nodded kissing his nose. He stared at her in adoration, he was falling for her. Fast. He was pretty sure he fell for her the first time too. He didn't want to accept it back then but now he knows. But he won't tell her, he didn't want to scare her off. They've only been together for a few days.

The next morning Dean took Y/n to the bunker. She was anxious the minute she stepped her foot inside. Ketch could show up any time. She needed to keep her expression in check and not let the brothers see the loathing she held for the man who'd be visiting today. If Dean noticed her odd behaviour, he didn't comment on it.

The trio sat in the library where Sam was telling Y/n stories of his time at Stanford. She could tell he missed it all. She knew he didn't want to be a hunter. She had seen that look in the mirror many times before she ran. The loud creaking of the bunker door interrupted Sam mid sentence. Both men grabbed their guns from under the table, ready to shoot if it was an intruder. Dean pushed Y/n behind him, standing in front of her in a protective stance.

The minute they recognised the newcomer they pointed their guns at the man. Ketch raised his hands in surrender.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Dean growled.

"I come in peace." The man replied.

"How did you even get in here?" Sam questioned. Ketch scoffed.

"I have a key" he replied and Sam looked confused. "Your key can open any Men of Letters bunker in the world." He added in a berating tone as if it was common knowledge and they should've known.

"What do you want?" Dean asked not dropping his guard even for a second.

"I came here to call for a truce. I believe we started on the wrong foot. I was hoping we could work together. We're Men of Letters after-all" Ketch said, presenting a bottle of whiskey, placing it on the table in the war room.

Y/n observed the situation, Dean was not convinced in the slightest. His shoulders were tense as he was expecting Ketch to attack any moment. Sam, however, he didn't seem completely trust but he appeared inclined to hear Ketch out.

"Get the fuck out of here." Dean growled. Ketch looked at Dean, his eyes dropping at Y/n for a split second. She gave him a small nod and the British man complied to Dean's order. He turned around and left the bunker. Sam and Dean lowered their guns and put them under the table.

"Who was that?" Y/n breathed out. "What's his deal?"

"Don't worry about it." Dean brushed it off but she wasn't letting up. She wanted Dean to open up about the situation so she could give him her two cents and spin the situation to her advantage. Just as she was supposed to.

"So people just randomly show up at the place you live at? He has a key to your home?" She questioned. "What's Men of Letters?"

Dean sighed before he dropped beside her, he told her The Men of Letters were a secretive organization dedicated to preserving and protecting ancient knowledge about the supernatural. They operated from hidden bunkers, this is one of them. And Sam and Dean are legacies. The man that dropped by was a member of the British Men of Letters and they wanted to work together. But their methods were messed up. How they were self righteous pricks who think there's nothing wrong in what they do. That they're better than everyone else. Better than American hunters.

"You make it seem complicated." Y/n spoke after Dean was finished. "It doesn't have to be."

"What do you mean?" Sam asked leaning over the table, interested to hear her perspective.

"I mean, they want to work together, give you cases to work. Right?" She asked.

"But they want us to kill everyone, even when have the option to save them. That's not how we operate." Dean grumbled.

"Well, they don't have to know what you do on the job. It's not like you will work for them. You will work with them. They provide with with intel, weaponry and you work the case like you do. And they won't be onto your ass like it seems they are. Seems like a win-win to me." She spoke nonchalantly, not wanting to seem she was trying too hard to convince them. She just pretend to tell them how she saw it.

"I think she's right Dean." At least Sam was convinced. "We can negotiate our terms, and we can opt out anytime its feels wrong." He added but Dean was dismissive. He might need a little more persuasion. She hated thinking about using sex to convince him. But if she didn't do it, Ketch would kill her or worse, Mick.

"I'll think about it." He said getting up from his chair. Sam called his name to stop him, "I said I'll think about it." Dean snapped at his brother before turning to go to his room. Y/n shot Sam a look before she followed after him. She opened the door to his room ans saw him at the edge of his bed, his elbows resting on his knees.

"Dean." She said entering the room making him look up. "Don't fret over it honey." She said coming to stand in between his legs, his arms immediately holding onto her. His jaw was still clenched and she rubbed over it to calm him down. "You hate him that much?" If only you knew how much I hate him. She thought to herself.

"I don't want to talk about it.” Dean replied looking up at her.

“It’s okay, there are a lot of other things in my mind that we can talk about. Or better yet, do.” She smirked down at him seductively.

“Is that so?” He asked pulling her into him. She nodded her head straddling his lap and leaning down to kiss him. Dean willingly let her take over, grateful for a distraction.

An hour later, Y/n was perched on Dean completely. Her chin rested on his chest as she looked up at him. She grew to hate herself more as time passed. She hated that he looked at her like she was his everything and she hated that she was not being honest with him. But she had to do what she had to. If it was just her, she would’ve told Dean the whole truth and she knew he would’ve done everything in his power to keep her safe from Ketch. But Mick’s life was on the line too. She can’t be selfish and leave him to deal with the consequences after everything he’s done for her. Part of her wondered if he had faced any problems now that Ketch knows she was alive, since he was the one who declared her dead to the organisation.

“You seem lost.” Dean’s voice brought her back to reality.

“Just thinking.” She gave him a smile.

“About?” If only she could tell him, she would’ve done it in a heartbeat. She needed to reel this conversation back to him and away from her.

“About how your head wasn’t into it.” She replied. She didn’t exactly feel that way but she played it by long shot.

“I’m sorry sweetheart.” Dean accepted and she thought that maybe she isn’t that rusty after all. “Just this whole British Men of Letters thing, they’re like so fucking annoying.” Dean grumbled.

Tell me about it. She internally rolled her eyes at the mention of those assholes.

“From what you’ve told me, I don’t think it could be that bad.” She started and Dean raised his brow at her. “If you see it the way I see it.”

“And how do you see it, baby?” Dean asked caressing her bare back.

“Well the way I see it, they send you cases—less time consuming, they tell you how to deal with unfamiliar creatures—less research. The more time you save the more time I get to spend with you.” She grinned at him mischievously.

“Charming sweetheart, only thinking about yourself.” Dean teased her, his words held no malice.

“Well you’re hot, can you blame a woman for wanting to spend time with you.” She said exactly the words he spoke to her ten years ago, bringing a chuckle out of him. “Besides, like I said, they don’t have to know what exactly happened. They’re not your boss. If they’re Men of letters you’re too.”

“You make solid points sweetheart. Are you sure they haven’t sent you here to convince me?” Dean joked and she froze slightly.

“I was just giving my opinion.” She replied not too defensively. Dean kissed the corner of mouth and she relaxed.

“Just teasing, baby.”

The next morning Dean informed Sam, he’s willing to give those asshole a chance, but on his own terms. He dropped Y/n back to her apartment since she bad a bakery to run. Sam called Mick to the bunker to talk. The Winchester brothers talked negotiations with Mick and Ketch wasn’t too pleased with the information. However he remained quiet because there was someone else who was going to get a piece of his mind.

Y/n’s phone buzzed in her pocket and she rolled her eyes at the name the device displayed.

Wretch: Get here.

Him and his fucking orders. She was sure she would be the one snap his neck someday. She always walked to her bakery since she liked talking walks but she did own a car she didn’t use much. Now would be the good time to put it to use. She drove to the British Men of Letters bunker and after putting her hand on the biometric scanner, she was allowed to enter.

“Care you explain why you made me drive all the way up here when Dean has actually accepted to work with a drama queen like you?” Was the first thing she said to Ketch as she entered the briefing room.

“Don’t even think for a second that I won’t shoot you. I’m running out of patience for that attitude of yours.” Ketch replied. Y/n didn’t reply instead she plopped on one of the chairs. “The Winchesters are still not completely on board.” He added.

“Well I’m working on it. At least they’re willing to listen to now without trying to put a bullet in your head.” She replied trying to keep the attitude out of her tone. “Give it some time they’ll come around eventually.”

A month passed and The Winchester were working cases provided by the British Men of Letters. There weren’t any cases where Sam and Dean could do anything different from what the Brits did. All of those threats needed to be eliminated and they did it precisely. Things were going as smoothly as possible given circumstances. Y/n and Dean were going strong and he didn’t suspect for anything at all. Y/n never contacted Ketch, it was him who reached out for mission updates. She kept her meet ups with Mick minimal and under the radar as to not raise suspicion. Also she didn’t want Dean to think she’s meeting with someone else behind his back.

Little did Y/n know it would all change when Sam and Dean had to go on a werewolf hunt, accompanied by Mick.

Y/n walked into the British Men of Letters. bunker where she was meeting Mick. It had been a while since they last met, so she decided to visit him. She made sure the brothers were at the bunker thoroughly occupied before coming here. She had to be cautious coming around since she could run into them. Dean had told her all about their hunt together. And how Mick helped heal his friend, Claire. Y/n was surprised he defied rules. She knew he also hated those methods. He was too scared to leave himself so helped her escape. Besides he was in too deep to get out. While Y/n was barely nineteen, she had a whole life ahead of her. She stopped in her tracks as he as she heard Ketch's grating voice. She concealed herself behind the wall and watched closely.

"You see I always suspected you had a hand in her escape. However, I didn't have solid proof, since you so cleverly showed a burnt body which had her DNA all over." Her heartbeat quickened as she realised it was Mick he was talking to. "And now you let a werewolf escape."

"We healed her." Mick raised his voice.

"You should've known better, Mr.Davies. What if it hadn't worked? What if she'd killed you and gotten away?" Ketch asked rhetorically. "The Winchesters are rubbing off on you when it should've been the other way around."

"We eliminated a threat by turning the girl back. We did what we had do.!" Mick argued. Before he could say anything further, Ketch shot him—right between the eyes. Mick's body dropped to the ground with a loud thud, and her eyes widened in terror. She covered her mouth to stifle a sound and quickly left the premises.

Her whole body was shaking. She had just watched her best friend, the man she owed her life and happiness to, be shot to death. Tears streamed down her face as she got behind the wheel and drove as fast as she could, heading back to the bunker, back to Dean. This ended now. She wouldn't let Ketch manipulate her into doing his dirty work any longer. Ketch had killed Mick, the only reason she had taken the job.

She pulled heavy bunker door open, her vision clouded by tears as she descended the stairs. Her sobs were loud enough for Dean who was cleaning his guns in the war room. Upon seeing her, he dropped everything and rushed to her side.

"Baby, what's wrong?" Dean's expression was one of distress. He had never seen her like this before; he had never seen her cry, and yet here she was, wailing loudly.

"Mick." She choked, unable to form a coherent sentence.

"What about Mick, baby? Tell me!"

"He killed him." Dean's eyes widened at her words. Who was she talking about?

"Hey hey, look at me! Cmon sweetheart tell me who killed Mick?"

"Ketch." She whimpered, her tears continued to drip down her cheeks. Her breathing became shallow and irregular. Her strength worn out as she went limp in his arms. Her head lolled to the side as she succumbed to unconsciousness.

Dean carried her to his room, bridal style. He gently laid her on the bed, tapping her cheeks lightly. He was at a loss of words and he sure as hell wasn't sure what to think. How did she know? She's not in the business, she doesn't know Mick or Ketch. She'd only met Ketch once when he dropped by the bunker. She doesn't even know what Mick looks like. Dean's only ever told her about their hunt. Thousands of questions swirled in his head as he watched her lay unconscious on his bed.

He decided to let her rest for a while and left the room to find his brother. He found Sam in the kitchen grabbing a mug of coffee. The younger brother took a sip as turned to his brother as he noticed his serious expression.

"We have a problem." Dean said his hands folded across his chest. "Ketch killed Mick." Sam recoiled at the information, jerking his head away from his coffee and staring at Dean, wide eyed.

"What? How'd you even know?"

"Y/n told me. She came in here ten minutes ago, she was a crying mess. She told me Ketch killed Mick and before I could ask her anything else she fainted." Dean replied, his jaw slacked as none of it made sense to him.

"How does she know?"

"That's what I want to know." Dean's voice was low. Threatening even. He wasn't sure of the situation but he had a theory. And he prayed to whoever was out there, that he was wrong. Because God knows what he would do if he was right.

Y/n woke up in Dean's room. She blinked her eyes slowly to adjust to the light. The events of earlier came crashing into her like wave. She didn't want to be alone. She leapt out of the bed and ran out of the room. She knew Dean would ask questions. She knew she'd have to answer him, tell him the truth. And she knew she'd have to bear the consequences of her actions. She might lose Dean. Forever.

She found the brothers in the library. Dean's head snapped up when he heard footsteps. Y/n meekly entered the library.

"I know you have questions." She muttered lowly. Both brothers looked at her expectantly. For her to explain whatever the hell was happening but she remained silent.

"How do you know what Ketch did?" Dean questioned, that was the first thing on his mind.

"I saw it." She replied looking at him. "I was there at the bunker." Her eyer brimmed with tears as the scene replayed in her head.

"What were you doing there?" Dean's gaze hardened on her. Truthfully he didn't want to know the answer.

"Because I am a part of the Men of Letters." She confessed and Dean's hands clenched by his sides.

"What?" Sam exclaimed standing up. "You're not making any sense. It's not possible. You've lived here for as long as we know." He turned to his brother. "You met her here didn't you? Ten years ago."

"Sam." She called out to him. "I'll explain." She took a deep breath. Her gaze was settled on Dean, unmoving. She wanted to see his reaction when he told them the truth. She wanted him to know that didn't have any other choice. "When we met, ten years ago. It was real. I didn't know who you were. But this time, Ketch sent me to you." Dean rubbed his hand over his chin, shaking his head in disbelief.

"Why?" Sam questioned.

"He said you two weren't cooperating with the British Men of Letters. That you two were meddling in the business and you two were dishonouring the legacy. So he sent me here to get you two to cooperate."

"And you got us to cooperate. You sweet talked Dean and you knew if he was on board I would be too." Sam completed with a scoff. Dean took a menacing step towards and if she was being honest she was a bit afraid of him at the moment.

"And what if we hadn't cooperated?" His voice was low with an edge to it. When she didn't answer he asked again, not so politely this time. "Fucking answer me!" He raised his voice.

"I would have had to kill you." She whispered, her head bowing down. Dean nodded his head taking a step back. If his heart was breaking he didn't let it show. The betrayal was too powerful for him to feel anything else.

"Get Out." Those two words broke her completely. She didn't expect him to forgive her but she expected him to ask for explanation. She'd expected yelling, fighting, questions. Anything but this.

"Dean." She whimpered as tears streamed down her cheeks. "They'll kill me."

"If you don't leave, I will." It was taking a lot restraint for him to not shoot her right there. Or even take her in his arms and soothe her pain. Each tear that fell from her eyes, was a stab to his heart. He had loved her. Sure he never told her but he was going to. But she manipulated him, used him for her gain. "Leave." He yelled and she flinched. She took a step back and turned around to walk up the stairs. She took slow steps hoping he would stop her, tell her stay but he didn't.

She sat in her car, her tears had stopped and dried on cheeks. She was completely numb. She had lost everything she loved within the span of two hours. Her best friend was dead. The man she loved, kicked her out and probably hated her guts. And the man that actually hates her guts will kill her now.

Her phone rang and she sighed as saw the name of the caller. Speak of the devil. With a deep breath she answered the phone.

"Get home." He said and hung up. What the fuck was that supposed to mean. She quickly drove to her apartment, her heart beating loudly in his chest. She opened the front door and jumped a bit when she saw Ketch sitting on the couch in her living room.

"What are you doing here?" She asked, staring at him warily. Her blood was boiling watching her best friend's killer in her apartment.

"You're lacking." Ketch replied. "Those boys still don't follow rules. Do better." He ordered.

"No can do." She replied and he was quick on his feet grabbing her arms and twisting it behind her back.

"What is that supposed to mean?" He was angry.

"Dean kicked me out. I told him you killed Mick. I told him I was your pawn in this game. So why don't you tuck your tail between your legs and run for your life?" She taunted glaring at him. "You don't want an angry Dean Winchester onto you."

"You bitch." He said pushing her in the wall. "He was stupid enough to let you go. But I'm not." He said slapping her cheek. Blood dripped from her cheek.

"I'm not scared of you anymore." She spat before grabbing his head with both her hands and bringing his face to her knee. She heard a crack as was sure she broke his nose. "I'm gonna fucking kill you." She threw a right hook which he blocked but she turned so her back was to his chest and flipped him on the coffee table.

"Cora is here. And she's gonna want to see you." Ketch said smugly getting up, punching her in the face.

"Oh, isn't she the bitch who's shoes you lick every given opportunity." She kicked his stomach, and grabbed the lamp smashing it on his head.

"Enough." Her last sentence was enough to piss him off thoroughly. He pulled out his gun and shot her in her thigh, right above her kneecap. She fell to the ground on her knees. He slammed the back of his gun on her head, knocking her out.

To say Dean was pissed would be an understatement. He was furious, he was enraged, he felt betrayed and hurt. But most of all he was heartbroken. He opened his heart for someone for once in his life and that’s what he got. Being stabbed in the back.

His anger erupted like a storm. With a snarl, he grabbed the nearest lamp and hurled it against the wall, where it shattered into pieces. Breathing heavily, he swiped everything off the desk with one violent motion, sending papers, books, and a glass cup crashing to the floor. His fists collided with the dresser, leaving dents in the wood as he tore through the room, leaving nothing untouched by his rage. The sound of breaking glass and splintering wood echoed through the space, a chaotic symphony of his fury.

Hearing the sound of commotion Sam rushed to Dean’s room. He noticed the room completely smashed and his older brother panting with his knuckles bleeding. But most of all he noticed the defeated expression on Dean’s face.

“I shouldn’t say this but-”

“Don’t say anything Sammy.” Dean growled, glaring at the taller man.

“Just listen to me once.” Sam negotiated. His brother kicked a the broken lamp before dropping on the bed. Sam took it as his sign to start speaking. “I’m not saying what she did was right..” Sam paused looking for proper words to continue. “All I think is there’s a bigger picture we’re missing. You met her ten years ago when we didn’t even know what Men of Letters were. Surely she can’t be working with them when you met her, you met in America.”

“You heard her, she said it herself. She’s a Men of Letters.” Dean replied with a scoff.

“All I’m saying is you should talk to her, ask her to tell you the whole truth. From what you’ve told me she seemed pretty shaken up about Mick. And she wouldn’t have cared if she was like them. Also he hasn’t been answering any of my calls.” Sam said holding his brother’s shoulder.

Dean was torn between listening to his brother or his heart. He knew Sam was right, there was more to it than it met the eye. And he does want answers. Most of all he really wanted to know if anything was even real between them. But a part of him never wanted to see her again. After a lot of internal debate Dean spoke up.

“She’s got a lot more explaining to do.” He said standing up from his position. Dean walked out of his room and Sam followed behind him. The two brothers got into the Impala and Dean drove to her apartment.

Dean’s heart beat quickened when he noticed the door was wide open and he grabbed his gun from his jeans. Sam doing the same. They cautiously stepped over the treshold and the scene before them baffled them. The whole place was trashed. The coffee table was broken, the carpet was stained by a lot of blood. It looked like someone had gotten shot here and Dean didn’t want to think about it.

“Son of a bitch.”

Tags:

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@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

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@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78

[deancasbigbang]

Title: Restless Man

Author: Casslesschaps

Artist: Sasanka-27

Rating: Explicit

Pairings: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Past Castiel/Kelly Kline, Minor Benny Lafitte/Dean Winchester, John Winchester/Mary Winchester

Length: 25000

Warnings: N/A

Tags: Alternate Universe, Rancher Dean, Ranch Hand Castiel, Fluff, Smut, ‘90s, Cowboys, Slow burn, horseback riding, openly bisexual Dean Winchester

Posting Date: October 14, 2024

Summary: Castiel is in the wrong place at the wrong time when a fight breaks out in a dive bar in middle-of-nowhere Wyoming. Sheriff Sam Winchester realizes Cas is a drifter and gets him a job on his family horse rescue run by his brother Dean. The plan was never to stay, but things keep happening to keep him there until eventually, he strikes up an unlikely friendship with the green-eyed cowboy that leads to much more. Neither of them is prepared for the passionate fire that ensues. But, as fires so often do, they're both about to get burnt when it comes to light that Cas is on the run. Dean's always believed in second chances for the horses he rescues, but with Cas, he's not so sure.

Excerpt: “But you’re so…” Cas didn’t know how to end that sentence so he just gestured to Dean. “So what?” A mischievous smirk played across Dean’s face, a telltale sign he thought he was going to say something hilarious. “Ruggedly handsome? Strong and extremely masculine?”  Cas rolled his eyes, but he felt his cheeks heat up. He looked away. Dean wasn’t those things. Well, he was, but objectively. You couldn’t look at Dean and not notice those things. Hence Cas’ curiosity about Dean being bullied about not being ‘manly enough.’ “Not what I was going to say, but sure. For argument's sake.” “For argument's sake, what?”  Cas sighed, Dean really thought he was witty. He was not. “We’ll say you are all those things.” Dean locked eyes at Cas and honest-to-god batted his eyelashes. “What things?”  “You know what I’m talking about, I’m not gonna boost your ego.” Cas pushed his chair away from the table and walked to the bottom of the steps, “Are you guys ready yet?” “Stop rushing us, asshole!” Jo yelled back. Cas chuckled and heard Dean laugh too. He turned around and Dean had joined him at the bottom of the stairs.  “So you admit those things are true?”  “Huh?” Cas had forgotten what they were talking about. “You agree that I’m handsome?” Dean winked and then wagged his eyebrows obnoxiously.  “When did I say that?” Cas scoffed and pushed past Dean to go back into the kitchen.  “What, you can’t admit when a guy is objectively handsome?” “Frankly, the fact that you keep calling yourself that is concerning.” Cas snarked back. It was kind of fun bantering with Dean. He was quick, not exactly witty, but still a little funny. “You know, just because you call a man handsome, doesn’t necessarily make you a homosexual,” Dean quipped.  Cas didn’t dare turn back around to face Dean. He didn’t want Dean to notice how much he was blushing. Dean didn’t sound like he was making fun of him or being insensitive. It just really caught Cas by surprise to hear Dean speak so freely about that.  “I never,” Cas let out an awkward cough, “I never said it did.” “I’m just sayin’,” Dean remarked, “I can admit that you’re handsome.”

DCBB 2024 Posting Schedule

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

The Dangers of Hope Ch. 3

Series Summary: When Y/N shows up at Camp Chitaqua with her little girl in tow, her bloodshot eyes leave no doubt that she's infected. Or is she? Everything Dean has come to know for certain over the last five hellish years, is about to be challenged.

Pairings/Characters in the series: Endverse!Dean x Reader, Emma (OFC), Castiel, Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Michael, Zachariah, Risa, Johnston (OMC), Patrick (OMC), Theresa (OFC), other survivors and soldiers.

Series Explicit 18 +/Warnings: Show level violence, some gore, angst, smut, fluff all the usual for a series of mine. ❤️ Endverse!Dean (that's a warning for his anger and callousness as well as his extreme hotness. 😁) Each chapter will have their own specific warnings.

Chapter Warnings: None really. Angst. Dean being a bit of an asshole. A brief, near sexual encounter. Smidge of fluff.

Word Count: 3,654

A/N: So, I've had this idea for quite a while. Basically since I watched The Last of Us. I loved Pedro in the role of Joel, but I kept thinking how incredible Jensen would have been. Which then made me think of how amazing he was as Endverse!Dean which then led me to this idea. Lol! I've stolen the premise of Ellie's storyline from TLOU, but made her a grown up, a reader insert, and a love interest for Dean.

If you've never seen TLOU, don't worry - you don't need to have seen it to understand this story. 😊

I've taken some liberties with the Endverse in my story, changed a few things from canon, but kept lots of things too.

I sincerely hope you enjoy the story. It will be ten chapters and I will do my very best to post one chapter every weekend. ❤️

A/N 2: So, here I am with chapter 3. I hope you enjoy it! Thank you so much for all the very kind comments that this series has received so far. You're all fabulous.

Series Master List || Tag Lists

The dividers below were created by @saradika

The next morning Dean was sitting at the table in his tent, listening to the camp waking up around him, when his tent flap opened and Cas strolled in. Dean rolled his eyes.

“Jesus, we gotta put up a piece of wood on the tent poles or something so people can knock.” He said in a surly and growly, early morning voice. When Cas didn’t respond, he challenged him with an even surlier tone. “What? Why are you here?”

Cas walked further into the tent. “I saw you gave Y/N back her daughter.” Dean raised his hand and then dropped it, conceding the point. “And,” Cas continued, raising his hand in the air and waving it slightly, “no more manacles.”

Dean spread his arms wide. “These are all things I already know, Cas; why are you telling me this?”

Cas shrugged slightly. “So, can I assume this means you no longer think she’s going to turn into a monster at any minute?”

Dean blew out a puff of air. “It means, she’s been here a week, and hasn’t turned yet. And since that isn’t really something that happens to people who get bit, I think I can be reasonably certain she won’t turn, randomly, out of the blue one day. And I gave her back her kid so she can look after her, and I can get Risa back as a soldier instead of a nanny.”

Cas wore a very enthusiastic expression as he moved closer. “Come on, even you have to admit that this is exciting.”

Dean arched a brow. “Exciting?”

Cas’ voice became awestruck. “Dean, this is the most hopeful sign we’ve had in…years!”

“Aw, don’t come at me with that hopeful bullshit!” Dean’s scowl and fierce countenance was immediate and slightly intimidating, even to the angel. 

“Hope is nothing but a fucking lie, okay? We know it. We HOPED we could stop Lilith breaking seals and we didn’t, we HOPED we could stop the apocalypse, but we failed at that too. We HOPED we could save everyone, and well, we’re doing a pretty piss poor job of that, aren’t we? Every single time we go out on a raid, I hope we come back with the same number of people we left with, but it doesn’t happen very often, does it? We hoped -” 

Dean cut himself short and swallowed hard, lowering his voice. “We hoped that Sam would be strong enough to say no, but…he wasn’t. I hoped I could save him. And-” He cut himself off again and rubbed a hand hard across his face. 

“So just don’t come at me with ‘hopeful’.” Dean said, sneering the word.

He tapped his fingers against his chest. “Cause I gotta live in the reality of this situation. And look, if you wanna hide away from that reality, you wanna get blitzed and bombed every day, and pretend like you’re some kind of sexual guru, fuck around with dozens of girls, I don’t really give a shit. Okay? Do it. But I,” he banged his chest with his whole fist this time, “I have to live in the reality of our lives.”

Dean stood up and stepped closer to Cas, swinging his arm out sideways. “And the reality is I have no fucking clue why that woman hasn’t turned.” He shrugged dismissively. “Maybe the person who bit her wasn’t fully turned themselves, or maybe they didn’t fully break the skin so it didn’t take completely. Who knows. All I know is that she’s probably not gonna turn and so now we’ve got one more mouth to feed. Two, actually.” He said holding up two fingers. “And two more people draining our resources.”

He stepped back and turned away, giving Cas his profile. “That’s the reality. So you wanna join me in it, great. If not,” He turned his head to look at him, lifting his hand towards the entrance, “there’s the door. Or, you know, the tent flap.”

He dropped down onto the chair he’d vacated and rubbed a hand across his lips. He looked up when Cas spoke softly. 

“I don’t wanna live in this reality, Dean. I just can’t anymore. So I choose hope, I choose to be hopeful that maybe she marks a change, maybe things can be different. I’m telling you, this reality isn’t the only option.”

Dean shook his head. “It’s my only option. I learned a long time ago, and you should’ve too - hope is dangerous. Reality can’t hurt you like hope can.”

Cas’ expression was discouraged and disappointed as he nodded, looking away from Dean. He said nothing more as he turned and walked away.

***

A little while after Cas left, Dean moved out to his campfire and cooked and ate his ration of eggs and potatoes. As he drank his coffee, he was actively trying to push the argument with Cas out of his head. He had a camp to lead, he didn't need this crap clouding his judgment.

It was ridiculous to think the woman represented some kind of new hope for mankind. He rolled his eyes at the very notion.

Still, he found himself calling out to Johnston as the soldier walked by. The man stopped abruptly and turned fearful eyes on Dean. It drove Dean a little crazy that after more than two years of Johnston serving the camp, of protecting it and helping to run the day-to-day work and activities there, he still seemed petrified of Dean. 

I can't possibly be that scary, Dean thought with a deep scowl. Not like I've had him flogged for looking at me wrong or something.

Dean rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the fear radiating from the other man.

“You settled Y/N and her daughter?” He asked.

Johnston's blue eyes were slightly bulging and his prominent Adam's apple moved up and down as he swallowed. “Yes, sir.”

Dean waited a minute for him to elaborate before prodding him gruffly. “And?”

The other man seemed at a loss and Dean snapped his fingers impatiently. “And where did you put them?”

Understanding finally lit in Johnston's eyes and he began nodding. “Oh, yes sir. I put them in the southwest corner. Fourth row, the tent on the end.” He seemed proud to get that much out. But then he raised a finger. “Oh, the tent is red.”

Dean nodded and waved at him. “As you were.” 

Johnston saluted (even though Dean had told him a million times not to) and hurried on. Dean sighed deeply and without thinking about it too much, he headed in the direction of the red tent. 

When he got there he shouted out a hello, feeling slightly foolish and vowing then and there to make it a project to put some kind of wood near tents’ openings so people could knock.

The flap opened and Y/N's face lit up with a beaming smile when she saw him. “Hi!” 

Not knowing what to do with her enthusiasm, he just nodded. There was a slightly awkward moment and then Emma, her big blue eyes staring up at Dean, poked her head out from behind her mom, keeping her arms tightly wrapped around her hips and leaning her head into her side.

Y/N lifted her arm a little so Emma could shuffle out from behind her a bit more. She combed down Emma's slightly flyaway curls with her fingers and then settled her hand on the little girl's thin shoulders.

She gestured to Dean. “Say hi to Mr. Winchester.”

The little one just pressed closer and looked away from Dean to bury her face in her mother's side.

Y/N gave him a slightly chagrined look. “She isn't usually this shy.” She said by way of apology. 

But Dean simply shook his head. Unlike Johnston, he understood all too well why this blue-eyed moppet was scared of him. She'd watched him nearly end her mother's life - not something she was ever likely to forget.

Dean hated that that realization came with a trace of guilt. Feeling very annoyed with himself, he straightened up and nodded curtly.

“Good.” He said succinctly, responding to nothing. “I just wanted to make sure you were settled properly.”

He turned in an abrupt about face and started walking away. 

“Dean, wait!” Y/N called out to him. He turned back to see her wave Emma back into the tent and head towards him. When she reached him she wore her bright smile again, and he frowned deeper as a result.

“I wanted to ask you about something.”

Dean said nothing, waiting for her to continue. She seemed to be a little nervous, fiddling with her hair. She finally clasped her hands in front of her and continued. 

“So, I was talking to Eric?” She said as though it was a question. Dean did give her a puzzled look.

“Eric?” He asked.

Y/N had opened her mouth to continue talking, but then closed it and gave her head a shake, pointing to the side at nothing in particular. 

“Eric Johnston? The…soldier that brought us to this tent and helped us set it up.”

Dean nodded in recognition. Yes, he remembered now, that was his first name. He never used it. “Right.” He waved her on. 

“And I was asking about school for Emma, but he said there isn't one.”

Dean shook his head. “No, the parents, guardians, they look after that themselves.”

Y/N nodded. “Yes, but I was thinking…well, I was a third grade teacher in the…before.” She thumbed behind her as though their former, normal lives were just right behind them, around the corner, instead of existing eons ago.

She shrugged. “So, I was thinking that maybe I could start a kind of school for the kids here. Eric figured there were about 35 or 40 of them. So I thought we could hold lessons somewhere outside most days, but if the weather's bad, maybe we could use the main cabin.”

Dean was scowling harder now, so she rushed on. “It would only be for a few hours a day. Wouldn't be anything spectacular, but it could help them with reading and math, and just some basics. Keep the kids' minds occupied and give their parents a couple of hours on their own.”

She shrugged. “It's nothing much, but it might help people feel a little more hopeful about the future.” She finished with another bright smile.

Dean felt his ire rise with that word again - hopeful. This woman was going to upset everything, tip the precarious balance of the camp on its head. 

He shook his head angrily. “We don't do shit like that. This isn't a fucking gated community, okay? These are survivors who get by together. That's it.”

Y/N's eyes were so earnest it almost hurt to look at her. “But, don't you see, it could be a community. Not gated, but open. We could do more for each other than just survive.”

Dean crossed his arms over his chest. “Look, if you're unhappy with being here, we can happily help you on your way.”

Y/N raised her hands. “No, of course not, that's not what-”

Dean cut her off with a cold, hard voice. “And you can't teach kids like this.” He waved a hand towards the red rings encircling her irises. “You'd scare the shit outta them. Take one look at you and freak out, thinking you're gonna turn into a monster any minute.”

That pulled Y/N up short and Dean could see by her slight flinch that his words had hit home. She was quiet a minute and her smile was dimmed as she nodded.

“Right. That's…no, you're right.” She gave an imitation of a chuckle. “There aren't many mirrors around, so I…sometimes I forget about…” she gestured to her eyes.

She shook her head. “I was just trying to find a way to be helpful, you know.” She shrugged. “But yeah…” She trailed off and Dean felt a sick gnawing sensation in his stomach as she gave a final dull smile. 

“Okay, well thanks.” She said as she turned away. Though what she could have possibly been thanking him for, he had no idea.

He thought about Cas’ disappointed expression, and Y/N's bent smile and he gritted his teeth. This morning was not going well for him.

The day didn’t get much better from there. He spent most of it planning their next raid for canned goods. They were running low, and it was September already. Over the next couple of months they’d have to make sure they had whatever they needed for the winter. Once the snow hit, the winter roads were sometimes impassable for weeks at a time. 

They were having to go further and further out from the camp to find supplies. The area was becoming picked clean. There were four or five other, smaller, groups of survivors within about a hundred square miles of their camp. For the most part they all rubbed along together alright, pretty much just leaving a big buffer of space between the camps, and leaving each other alone.

However, Dean was starting to worry about what would happen now that resources and supplies around them were starting to run out. In this last year, they’d started having to drive hours and hours away from camp to find un-ransacked grocery stores and restaurants in the abandoned cities. They could manage it because of their size, but some of the smaller groups had very few working vehicles, making it harder for them to travel. Dean worried what would happen when they got desperate. 

He wanted to be ready for winter.

So, he tried to spend the day planning the best route to hit as many cities as they could without hitting too many known Croat hives, or cleaned out cities. But he kept getting interrupted by his soldiers. The concerns of the camp were unending, and sometimes felt completely overwhelming. 

The morning kept being interrupted by issues and grievances his soldiers brought him from some of the camp inhabitants. He tried to put out as many fires as he could, while continuing to plan the raid.

Then he ended up spending far too much of the afternoon talking about drainage and irrigation with the young guy who used to be an engineering student, and an old farmer who’d spent his whole life in the fields. The two very different men were teaming up to try and see about making bigger winter crop plots this year. They’d grown some winter vegetables last fall and winter, and even that small amount of fresh food had made a big difference in the health of the campers. So this year they were hoping for more. 

Finally the men went off to plan some more and Dean folded up his maps. He hadn’t made much headway into the raid route, but the light was getting low; he’d have to come back to it. He fried up some spam and a few of the cooked, frozen potatoes they’d put up in the spring and sat beside his fire for a while before tossing water on it and going inside his tent. He lit a lantern and started to try and look at the maps again, but he was interrupted by Risa.

Dean lifted his chin towards her by way of greeting. She came forward and dropped a small piece of machinery on his table. “Here’s the piston for that Ford we towed back last week.” She said, referring to the truck they’d found abandoned on the side of the road with no owners in sight. “Should work.”

Dean nodded. “Great.”

Risa lingered a moment and then walked closer to him. “How are you?”

Dean shrugged. “Fine.”

She moved forward to stand between his legs and then reached out to run her hands over his cheeks and down his neck. She bent over and pressed a brief kiss to his lips.

“I miss you.” She said, her voice softer and more intimate than it ever was when they were soldier and commander. “You haven’t been to see me in weeks.”

“Sorry.” Dean said gruffly and then let her kiss him again, kissing her back for a moment before pulling away. 

Not willing to give up, Risa straddled his outstretched thighs and reached for his zipper. “It’s okay, I bet I can find ways to entice you back.” She said, dark brown eyes flashing with heat.

But Dean grabbed her hands and pulled them away. He kissed her briefly to try and ease the sting of his rejection. “Sorry, not tonight.” He nodded towards the maps on his table. “I’ve got shit I gotta finish.”

Risa bit into her lip, looking down at their hands entwined in his lap, and then nodding before she stood up. She lifted her mouth in a smile. “Yeah, sure. ‘Kay.” She nodded again and pointed to the piston as she left. “Let me know if that works.”

Dean sighed as his tent flap fell back into place. And that was the third person he’d disappointed today. Without his permission Y/N’s face floated into his mind. Despite what he’d said to her, he couldn’t deny how beautiful that face actually was. The red pigment in her eyes made no difference to that beauty.

He couldn’t erase the image of her crestfallen expression when he told her she’d scare the kids. That was complete bullshit and he knew it. Five seconds in her shiny presence and the kids would be eating out of her hand.

He growled slightly as he could feel himself caving. But would it really be so bad to let her teach the kids somewhere? They’d have to stay out of the way, and she’d have to keep them all quiet when they were together in a mob. But it might actually free their parents up for more of the endless tasks it took to maintain the camp.

If he let her do it, he’d have to make sure she knew he was only saying yes so that they could have the kids out of the way for a while. This wasn’t some hopeful mission for the future. It was just a practical solution for improving the camp.

He nodded. Yeah, I'll tell her tomorrow. 

But even as he though it, he got up and walked out of his tent, moving towards the southwest corner of the camp. Within a couple minutes he was standing in front of the red tent and again found himself clearing his throat and embarrassingly calling out a hello, like he was the Avon lady.

Y/N poked her head out of the tent and smiled. But she lowered her eyes a little and wouldn’t look directly at him. He wanted to punch himself.

“Hi.” She said softly, and then stepped out of the tent into the cool, late evening breeze. She waved towards the tent. “Emma’s sleeping.”

He nodded. She rubbed her arms and he frowned. “Didn’t they give you a jacket?” Then he noticed she was still wearing the grubby clothes she’d been wearing when she came. “And clean clothes?”

Y/N nodded and even in the dusky twilight Dean could see her blush. “Yes, but I realized…I’m all dirty.” She shrugged. “Nothing but basin baths for weeks. I’d like to get cleaner before I put on the clean clothes. One of your soldiers said there was a place where people went to bathe nearby. But he didn’t have time to take me.”

Dean nodded. “Yeah, there’s a river about four miles south of camp. It does the trick. I’ll take you tomorrow.” 

He scowled; he didn’t know where that offer had come from. He could have had one of his soldiers, or any other camper really, take her out to the river. But he didn’t rescind the offer and Y/N nodded happily.

“That would be wonderful.” She said rapturously. 

Dean nodded curtly again. “Yeah. And uh…you can do the school.” Y/N looked directly at him now and her face was surprised, but clearly thrilled. 

“Really?” 

He nodded and scowled. “Yeah, the kids'll get over it." He said with a nod to her red eyes. "But just make sure you all stay out of the way of the work in the camp. And let the parents know we’ll have some work for them during the hours their kids are gone. We can use the extra hands.”

Y/N nodded. “I’m sure they’ll be happy to help out where they can.”

Impulsively it seemed, she threw her arms around him, squeezing his arms tight to his sides as she hugged him. Shock coursed through him and he didn’t know how to move. Thankfully it was a brief hug and she was soon pulling away.

“Thank you so much, Dean. I’m so excited. I think it’s going to make a real difference. Just wait.”

As she bid him goodnight and bounced back into her tent, he shook his head, frowning deeply. 

Fuck, he thought, everything is too different already.

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters: @lyarr24 @lacilou @deans-spinster-witch @globetrotter28 @suckitands33 @akshi8278 @evznackles @jackles010378 @impala67rollingthroughtown @krazykelly @candy-coated-misery0731 @envyaurora95 @spnwoman @deans-baby-momma

Dean Fics Only: @roonthelittlespoon920 @slamminmine @zepskies @deangirl96

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom: @kazsrm67 @slut-for-evans-stan @sexyvixen7 @nancymcl @waywardcheshire

Everything Incl. Fan Edits: @k-slla @leigh70 @eevvvaa @kickingitwithkirk @foxyjwls007 @notinthislife50 @roseblue373 @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @avanatural @mrsjenniferwinchester @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 4: Hurt/Comfort

,,Hello, Dean." | @tami-ryver Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,162 Main Tags/Warnings: Castiel teaches Dean Enochian, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Dean Winchester Has Self-Esteem Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Pining Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester Summary: Cas teaches Dean Enochian and they both might get something more out of it.

Falling Inside The Black | @tami-ryver Rating: Mature Word Count: 1,715 Main Tags/Warnings: Demon Dean Winchester, Season/Series 10, Alternate Season/Series 10, Pining Dean Winchester, Pining Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel/Dean Winchester Mutual Pining, Castiel and Dean Winchester Need to Use Their Words, Cocky Dean Winchester, Castiel is So Done with Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, Angel Castiel (Supernatural), 5+1 Things, Pining, Mutual Pining, Fluff, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort Summary: 5 times Dean hates being a demon and 1 time he takes advantage of it.

Warm Embrace | @tami-ryver Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,957 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Kidnapped Dean Winchester, British Men of Letters (Supernatural) Being Assholes, Hunter Dean Winchester, Creature Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Protective Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel is Protective of Dean Winchester, Escape, Coils, Hugs, First Kiss, Castiel/Dean Winchester First Kiss, Angst, Scared Dean Winchester, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gorgon Castiel, Medusa Castiel, Summary: Dean freezes. He is unarmed, Cas doesn't know how to use the gun and their only escape route is the door to Cas' right. Dean doesn't know what to do, he is paralysed with fear. He is going to die here.

Non Solum | @thisisapaige Rating: Explicit Word Count: 16,061 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Witch Castiel, Hunter Dean Winchester, Strangers to Lovers, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Castiel lives a quiet life, a solitary life, a lonely life. He cannot risk anyone finding out he is a witch, lest any hunters seek out his isolated cabin in the frozen Northern Wastes. Interacting only with those who require his healing services, Castiel constructs an existence that ensures he will be alone. Alone, that is, until a bloodied, dying man crawls up to his front door and threatens to tear down everything Castiel has built.

The River | @davidfosterwallaceandgromit Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 16,763 Main Tags/Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, Episode: s15e09 The Trap, Purgatory, Alternate Season/Series 15, Character Study, Angst, Season/Series 15, Divorce Arc Summary: Cas has seen Dean in every state from abject misery to desperate determination, but his essential nature has never changed. This, this fight against Chuck, it’s different. Ever since the cemetery, Dean is acting differently. Rewrite of 15x09 "The Trap," dealing more directly with Dean's control issues and Jack's death.

Love Me Anyway | @verobatto Rating: Explicit Word Count: 22,027 Main Tags/Warnings: Modern setting, CEO!Dean, secretary!Castiel, bodyguard!Castiel, friends to lovers, trauma, panic attack, coming out, character development, pining, falling in love, bi!Castiel, emotional hurt/comfort, PTSD, kidnapping. Summary: For five years Castiel Novak was CEO Dean Winchester's perfect bodyguard and assistant. Novak, the only man the powerful leader trusts. But one day, Castiel Novak quits his job all of the sudden because he wants to marry his girlfriend and have a normal life, leaving Dean speechless. Dean realizes he knows nothing about the best employee he had. As his world turns unexpectedly upside down, the famous CEO decides become Novak's friend to keep him close again. But try to become a "good selfless friend" is something new for Dean... and even more when he discovers through that path he may have feelings for Castiel.

Monster Crush | @thefandomsinhalor Rating: Mature Word Count: 22,441 Main Tags/Warnings: Canon Divergent, Episode: S07E01, Creature Castiel, Angel Castiel, Summer, Vacation Spot, Fluff and Angst, Sleepy Cuddles, Protective Castiel, Hurt Dean Summary: With Godstiel’s reign finally over and all the souls back in purgatory, Dean is aggravated (but not surprised) to learn that yet another problem has surfaced: Castiel, after recovering from the ritual, appears to be growing monster parts. As in, one second he has vampire fangs, and the next he has tattooed djinn arms. And then there are the tentacles. Castiel believes it will wear off. Dean has trust issues. Still hurt by his betrayal, Dean nonetheless decides that he and his mega-monster-shifter angel should lay-low somewhere isolated until they know more. Which makes it very complicated for Dean to keep giving him the cold shoulder.

Graceland | @deliciousblizzardshark Rating: Explicit Word Count: 24,554 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe- No Supernatural, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Mechanic Dean Winchester, Human Castiel (Supernatural),Trans Castiel (Supernatural),Trans Male Character, Road Trips, Getting Together, canon-typical child abuse, Religious Cults, mentions of transphobia, Found Family, Sam Winchester is Dead, Suicidal Thoughts Summary: Sammy died on a Wednesday morning, only a few miles away from where Dean was sleeping off a hangover, sprawled across his bed in a pair of worn boxers as if the world couldn’t hold any more trouble for him. -- Sammy's dead and Dean, who'd devoted his whole life to taking care of his younger brother doesn't know what else to do but to pack up the Impala and take to the road. It's only when he picks up Castiel, an escapee from a religious cult with ghosts of his own, that he begins to learn how to escape his grief and to believe there might be a place where he belongs.

His Angelic Wings Aren't | @Abletownshipnumber5 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 36,249 Main Tags/Warnings: Angel wings, post-season/post finale, Castiel's angelic grace, hurt/comfort, time travel, slow burn, canon-typical violence, kidnapped Dean Winchester, Traumatized Dean Winchester, Swearing, homophobic language, mildly dubious consent Summary: After Dean arrives in Heaven, he discovers Cas has been freed from the Empty by Jack. Jack transforms Dean into an angel so he can serve in Cas' newly formed garrison. However, their reunion did not go as Dean had hoped. Also, Jack brought back angels previously sent to the Empty by Team Free Will and some aren't happy with Dean.

[siampie]

Get Off the Highway || Chapter 3

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Word Count: 2.7 k 

Warnings/tags: Enemies to lovers trope, angst, childhood trauma, eldest daughter syndrome

A/N: Alright, I hope this chapter makes sense to people. It does to me but I somehow feel as though it is convoluted. And maybe it is but I hope you love it anyway. And hopefully, it’s still believable in the Supernatural universe.

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Dividers by @cafekitsune

“Dude, what the hell was that?” Sam glared at his brother.

“The truth.” Dean shrugged. Sam just gave a deadpanned look. “Come on, Sammy. Do you seriously believe that the kid is cut out for hunting?”

“She did save your life before in that vampire nest. So, I’d say yes, she is.” Sam started after his brother. “Seriously, what’s your problem with her?”

“My problem is she doesn’t look like a hunter, Sam.” Dean fished his keys out of his pockets. “And she sure as hell doesn’t act like one.” Sam sighed and shook his head. “And who the hell doesn’t drink on a weekday? After a hunt?”

“Seriously, Dean?”

“What? That’s how most hunters celebrate after a hunt.” Dean reminded him. “What does she think? That she’s above us?”

“She never said that.”

“Yeah, well, she didn’t need to.” He climbed in the driver’s seat. Sam pushed out a sigh before getting in the car.

You slammed the door to your motel room behind you. Your throat was clogged up, tears rushed out of your eyes. You dropped on your bed and stopped the first onslaught of sobs by pressing your hands against your mouth. Your body racked with sobs, but you remained quiet. Not wanting anyone to hear. For which you berated yourself for, no one could hear you anyway because you were alone.

They weren’t tears of sadness. They were tears of frustration and anger. You did not know how else to let out those emotions. You didn’t cry out of anger all the time. But it did happen at times. Most of the time, those tears were out of frustration. Frustration at how you had failed tonight. Frustration at how you let your fears overcome you. Frustration at how mad he sounded when he yelled at you.  

You hated yelling.

“Stop being so overdramatic.” You wiped at your eyes furiously. “There is no reason for you to cry about this. Why are you like this?” You took in a shaky breath. “You’re okay. It’s okay.” Your hand rubbed at your chest, over your heart. As though, you were soothing the ache. “It’s okay. You’re okay.”

After a few minutes of repeating those words to yourself as a chant, your tears had died down. You washed your face and you did the only thing you could do. You took your focused back on the hunt. Dean Winchester was wrong. You knew what you were doing. And yes, you may have messed up but you were going to fix it. Like you always did.

The monster that attacked you was not a werewolf. Neither was it a skinwalker. It was something completely different, something you had never faced before. You opened your laptop and worked the case back from square one.

You took in consideration that the victims had all been attacked and bound before they died. Which you still didn’t understand why because that creature didn’t seem as though it needed its victim to be neutralized. It was quite powerful on its own. So, why restrained its victims?

While researching, you chased away any thoughts you may have about the Winchesters. Especially Dean. You didn’t understand why he disliked you so much. You had not done anything to him. You had remained polite and cordial when you first met. Nothing had happened that you could remember, that may have soured his opinion of you. To the point where instead of comforting you after you almost died, he snapped at you. Acting like an asshole.

“Leave this to us before you get yourself killed.” You grumbled under your breath. “Like you know better than I do. I saved your life and now, you’re talking to me like I’m a kid. What a gaping asshole!” You let out a frustrated sigh, tears pressing against your eyes. “It’s okay. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You’re going to prove him wrong. Make him eat his words.”

And eat his word, he would.

You stayed up all night to research for a monster that would feed on hearts, that wouldn’t be a werewolf or a skinwalker. And the only thing you came across that could fit the bill, was from Egyptian mythology. A creature that was called Ammit, the Devourer of the Dead. It fit the bill but you still had your doubts. You did not get a good look at it and it was dark out. You weren’t sure that the creature resembled the drawings that portrayed Ammit. However, it could explain why the victims needed to be restrained for Ammit to feed on them.

Ammit, also known as the Devourer of the Dead, was believed to be a demon rather than a deity. During the Judgment of Dead, the heart of the deceased was weighed against the feather of Ma’at, the goddess of truth. If the heart was weighted less than the feather, they were ruled to be pure and allowed to enter paradise. If their heart was weighted more than the feather, they were ruled to be impure and their heart would be devoured by Ammit. Leaving them without a soul and to wander in Limbo. Stuck between the world of the living and the dead. Restless in eternity.

You knew the victims were still alive when their hearts had been ripped from their chests. You just didn’t know why or who would do this? And that was what you needed to find out. So, on no sleep and a pounding headache, you knocked on the door of the first victim’s house. You wanted to know more about the victims, know more about their last days, their habits. Knowing more about them would give you more insight as to why they were killed.

The victims were around the same age and being in the same small town, that could only mean they had grown up together. It seemed that other the years they had grown apart. So, nothing was linking them to one another before their deaths. One of the victim’s friend had even mention a falling out. But did not mention anything more than that. Nevertheless, you had found a pamphlet for an exhibit at the local museum. An ancient Egyptian exhibition. Which only reinforced your belief that Ammit was the monster that killed those people.

You made a quick stop to the local café; your sleepless night was catching up to you. You were struggling to keep your eyes open and your yawning to a minimum. You needed some help to keep your eyes open for the rest of the day. Especially since you were planning to go at the ancient Egyptian exhibit.

With your much needed coffee in hand, sunglasses back on your face, you walked out of the local café. You had barely made it out when your elbow was roughly grabbed by none other than Dean Winchester. The rage you had felt towards him had dwindled through the day but seeing him now, your frustration and anger flared back up.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

You ripped your elbow from his grasp and glared at him, from behind your dark tinted glasses. “Enjoying my coffee. What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re still working the case.” He retorted, jaw clenched and glaring at you.

You took a sip from your cup. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“She doesn’t—” Dean let out a frustrated sigh. “Listen, Princess, we are working the case and you talking to the vics’ families ain’t making things easy for us.”  

You gave it a beat, playing with the lid of your cup. “I fail to see how this is my problem, Bucko. I mean how could I do such a thing? Clearly, you and your brother are professionals. Me talking to them shouldn’t get in the way, now, should it?” You took a step back away from them, “After all, you said it yourself, I don’t know what I’m doing.” You turned away from them and walked up to your car.

“It would be easier if we were working the case together, you know.” Sam suggested, following you. “Instead of getting in each other’s way.”

You fished out your keys. “Your brother wouldn’t agree to this.” You looked over at Dean, he was glaring at you still. “And frankly, I’d rather shoot myself in the foot than work with him. Best of luck to both of you.”

The exhibit was mostly about funerary rituals. Coincidentally, the first kill happened a few days after the exhibit had started. Meaning that the creature had come with the exhibit. Thanks to the guide, you learned that this was the first time the exhibit was put together by a young professor; Amanda Carlisle. She had gone out of town to college a few years back and made it big. She’d come back to make her hometown the first to see the exhibit she put together. Her parents were proud, and so was the whole town.  

Unfortunately, as you moved to speak to the professor in question, two giants that stood out like sore thumbs in the middle of this exhibit, were already speaking with her. You glared at Dean as he sent a smug smile your way. Clearly, he was happy that he was one step ahead of you this time. You puffed out a frustrated sigh, you would not turn this into a competition with the Winchesters. Not if you could help it. You had much more important things to do.  

Professor Carlisle was welcomed upon her return. A small-town girl that went to a prestigious college and came back successful. Plus, she was letting her home town benefit from that success of hers. Sharing the glory, so to speak. The victims were around her age too. Some may have been older of a few years but they were all around the same age. The victims and the professor had gone to school together. They might even have been friends. Except, they weren’t.

The best thing about small town was that everyone knew one another, and words got around fast. And it wouldn’t be too hard to get information from some the people, especially those who couldn’t wait to gossip. And boy, did they have a lot to tell you.

Amanda Carlisle was always a straight A student; it was no surprise for anyone that she would go far in life. But Amanda was never the popular kid. If her parents, her teachers and the rest of the town were proud of her, the other kids in her school did not exactly love her. You never quite understood the concept of bullying or why it happened. Was it jealousy or insecurity? Was it just because they didn’t like who she was or how she presented? No one really knew. However, it was clear for many people and known by the general public, they made her life a living hell.

And this was her revenge.

The shrill sound of your ringtone brutally pulled you out of your sleep. You blindly reached out for your phone on your bedside table.

“Yeah?” You answered groggily without checking the caller ID first. Your name was said on the other side of the line. “Sam? What’s going on?” You sat up, rubbing your eyes.

“I need your help.”

“And I don’t know what I’m doing.” You hissed at Sam as both of you walked to the back door of the museum.

“Seriously?” Sam turned to you.

“What? I’m allowed.” You talked back. “He gave me crap for being attacked. And now, he’s the one who got abducted. Don’t you think it’s a little ironic?”

Sam sighed. “It might be but—he wasn’t entirely wrong.”

You rounded on him, glaring. “Good luck on finding your brother—alone.”

“Okay, okay—” He stopped you from walking away. “He was wrong for yelling at you but I mean, you gotta admit that was pretty reckless on your part.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Yeah, well, not everyone has the luxury to have a hunting partner like you and your brother do.”

The growls of the creature reached your ears as you got closer to the office. The rattling of chains and muffled voices could be heard through the door that had been left ajar. Sam and you glanced at each other, grabbing your guns. Sam reached for the Ram’s horn in his bag, securing it. He had told you they already faced an Egyptian deity in the past, and the Ram’s horn had incapacitated the deity. With no real lore on how to stop Ammit, you went with his suggestion.

Dean was bound to a large table in the middle of the room. Ammit was held in a cage while Amanda looked at her lovingly.

“Let’s step away from the demon.” You aimed your gun at the professor. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”

Amanda turned to you slowly, wearing a smirk on her face. “I got him exactly where I want him.” She said as her eyes moved away from you over to Dean. “I know what he did to you.” Her eyes moved back to you. “He humiliated you, yelled at you. He deserves what’s coming to him.”

“Like they all did, right?” You countered.

“The poor girl tried to survive the aftermath of her humiliation but she couldn’t.” You frowned at her words. “She was too weak. She needed me. And so do you.”

With a flick of her hand, she opened the cage and unleashed Ammit. The demon pounced on you, tackling you to the ground. You fired your gun as you fell backwards. The wind got knocked out of your lungs. Ammit’s breath hit your face as you tried to push her away. Your gun had been knocked out of your hands.

“SAM,” You called, your voice strained. Ammit reared back as Sam stabbed it in the back. The demon writhed in pain, falling to the ground. Dean had been freed, was now fighting off Amanda. She shoved Dean away, his back hit one of the walls. Sam aimed his gun at her, without even lifting a finger, the gun flew out of Sam’s hands. She marched onto him, furious. She grabbed the lapels of his jacket and lifted him off of the ground. You turned to the creature on the ground, she was still writhing in pain. You moved to take out the Ram’s horn from her back.

“This is all your fault.” Amanda grabbed your shoulders as you turned to face her. She was furious, enraged. “I was trying to help you.”

“Yeah, I didn’t ask for it.” And you stabbed her in the neck with the Ram’s horn. Her eyes shone with purple lights, her body suddenly and quickly decaying, turning into a mummy, before she fell to the ground. And the demon vanished into thin air.

You threw your bag in the passenger seat, Sam and Dean were standing behind you. Sam cleared his throat before he nudged his brother.

“Look—”

“Don’t bother.” You shoved your hands in your pockets. “It’s already forgiven.”

“What?” Dean scrunched up his eyebrows.

“You were going to apologize, right?”

“Apologize for what?” Dean asked back.

“Oh, I don’t know, Bucko.” You shook your head. “Maybe for yelling at me in the woods. How about that?”

“So what? You can’t handle a little yelling?”

“I can handle yelling. Doesn’t mean I have to. Especially, after I almost got killed.” You glared at him.

“Well, someone has to tell you when you’re screwing up.” Dean stepped closer to you. “And you screwed up that night.”

“For the love of Aphrodite, you think you know better than me, don’t you?”

“Oh, Princess, I know better than you.” Dean continued. “And let me tell you, you’re not—”

“Alright, enough,” Sam placed himself between you and his brother. “Seriously—” Sam put a hand on your shoulder. “Thanks for your help.”

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at the youngest Winchester. “At least, one of you is appreciative.” You turned to Dean with a smirk. “Can’t say the same for everyone.” Dean rolled his eyes, letting out a groan. “Anyway, I gotta fly. And words of advice, you should do the same.”

Sam pulled you in a quick hug, catching you by surprise. “Call if you need anything.”

“Yeah, will do.” You smiled at him as he pulled away. You sent a nod Dean’s way. “Bucko.”

“Princess.” He answered in kind.

You climbed in your truck and drove off.

“You know I gotta give it to her.” Dean started as he and his brother walked to the Impala.

“What?”

“She ain't that bad."

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[corinthianism]

last kiss | sam winchester (1)

pairing: sam winchester/f!reader additional tags: best friends to lovers (?), fluff, angst

summary: you and sam were inseparable; two like-minded souls brought together by a life of saving people and hunting monsters. when the world is about to come to an end, he's forced to make a choice, one that might just haunt you forever. - set in the season 5 finale

masterlist | next chapter | ao3

CHAPTER ONE: SAVIN' ALL MY LOVE

Trusting a demon, especially the king of crossroad demons, was not what you had in your itinerary for saving the world… but perhaps you should’ve known. After all, being a hunter wasn’t exactly a cut-and-dry profession, especially when you’re working with the Winchesters. Still, you were wondering if being left in an abandoned house with Sam, while Dean and Crowley, of all people, tracked down Pestilence’s demon assistant, or as Crowley liked to put it, “the horseman’s stable boy”. Leaving Sam out of such an important mission left a bad taste in your mouth, but you knew that your best friend wasn’t exactly the most trustworthy candidate to save the world right now.

Not after what happened with Ruby. 

You grimaced. Best not to think about that too much, unless you wanted to match Sam with a cranky, scrunched up face of your own.

“Keep an eye on him, would you?” Dean pulled you aside before he left with Crowley. “If I know anything, sweetheart, it’s that he sure as hell listens to you more than he listens to me.”

You let out a long breath through your teeth as you glanced at Sam, who was, unsurprisingly, drinking his feelings by the fireplace. There was only so much to keep you busy in a place like this, so you decided that you might as well join him.

“Got room for one more?” you asked gently, not wanting to irritate him further. He gave you a look, which you had affectionately called “Sam’s kicked puppy look”, and huffed before scooching over to let you sit on the worn-down couch next to him. “This reminds me of Cedar Falls.”

Sam laughed quietly, shaking his head, “This is nothing like Cedar Falls.”

“True, but it made you laugh,” you grinned victoriously at him. “Penny for your thoughts, Sammy?”

He took one big sip from his bottle of whiskey, and turned to face you, his eyes doing that thing where it got bigger and sadder and you couldn’t help but give him whatever he wanted. What an asshole. The corner of his lips turned upward into a tired smile, “You don’t really wanna know that.”

“Actually, yeah, I don’t,” you rolled your eyes. “But I did kinda grow up with you and I’m your only friend besides your brother and an angel, so I’m morally obligated to know.”

That earned you a scoff from him, but he spilled the beans anyway.

“It’s Dean. I mean, I know he’s not exactly wrong for not trusting me right now, but trusting Crowley?” he ranted, his voice growing tighter and louder in frustration. 

“He doesn’t trust Crowley,” you made your point as softly as you could, knowing he was thinking of a million possibilities right now. You didn’t want to add to that. “He just doesn’t have any other option at the moment.”

“He does have an option though, and it’s not working with a demon. Trust me, I know firsthand that it doesn’t end well.”

You probably made a face at the mention of his “firsthand experience”, because he chuckled again and took another swig of his drink. 

“Well, on the bright side, you got me. And that’s about as good as it can get, Winchester,” another small smile from him. “I think we need more drinks. For me, I mean,” you commented, happy with your small victory. You stood up once again to get the mini-cooler in the other room. He nodded in agreement, going back to spacing out as you left. Taking one last look at him, you couldn’t help but imagine the weight he must’ve been carrying. You knew him. You knew him deeply, and that made things suck even more. 

Of course, there was no other solution besides burying the emotional damage every world-ending problem left on you. There was no time for heart-to-hearts in the life of a hunter. For now, the only real help you could give Sam was to lend him an ear and to toss him a few more drinks.

A flash of blue in your peripheral told you that you found what you were looking for. Cold mist pleasantly greeted your skin as you opened the cooler up, finding it full of ice and an assortment of drinks. “Leave it to the Winchesters to save the world but also somehow always be fully stocked up on alcohol,” you smirked, pushing the lid back down and picking it up to bring it to the living room. 

Sam’s voice made you stop in your tracks. He was talking to someone. On the phone, you thought.

“What if you guys lead the devil to the edge… and I jump in?”

What?

You found yourself inching closer, just to see if he would say anything else.

“It’d be just like when you turned the knife around on yourself; just one action, just one leap,” he persisted, voice heavy with desperation.

Everything he said after that was a blur, but you figured he was talking to Bobby. And God, you hoped the old man talked some sense into him.

“Was that Bobby?” you finally walked in, setting the cooler down on the floor. Sam straightened up, shoving his phone back into his pocket as he heard the clipped tone in your voice, no matter how much you tried to sound casual.

“Uh, yeah,” he mumbled before furrowing his brows. “How much of that did you hear?”

“Just enough to call you an idiot,” you crossed your arms, unimpressed.

“You sound like him,” he rolled his eyes, facing away from you and sitting back down on the couch, as if he could avoid your incoming sermon if he wasn’t actively looking at you.

“I damn hope so, because he’s the only one here with any sort of sense! Do you even hear yourself, Sam? We just managed to convince Dean not to say yes to Michael, and now you wanna let the devil ride your meatsuit? What’s wrong with you?!” you yelled at him, setting the cooler down so you could focus all your energy into conveying to him that he was, in fact, an idiot. “No, Sammy. I won’t let you do it. I won’t… I can’t.”

He must’ve noticed the panic in your voice; how the anger melted away into fear. Sam was familiar with that tone. It was what he heard in Dean’s voice nearly every goddamn day for the past two years. He just hadn’t expected to hear it from you. Even when he was sneaking off to meet with Ruby, you stood by him, protecting him from the worst of Dean’s paranoia. When it all came to light and his brother’s fears came true, you still held his hand like he had knocked over a vase instead of starting the apocalypse. He knew he didn’t deserve your kindness, and yet you still gave it to him so freely.

Hearing that desperation from you, it squeezed his heart in a way that made him forget how to breathe. The alcohol was already tearing away at his system, forcing only his most basic instincts to push him forward. Those instincts told him to look at you, to not be a coward and not be the reason for your worry. He hated making you worry.

Something wet trickled down your cheek and as you brought a hand to wipe it away, Sam had already turned around and seen the second tear fall. You hated being seen like this. It was weak, it was juvenile. You kill demons and vampires and shifters, for fuck’s sake. There was no time for crying your heart out.

But the possibility of a world that didn’t have Sam Winchester in it was enough to stop even you, in your tracks.

“Hey,” Sam pulled you out of your thoughts. “Look at me.”

“I don’t want to, asshole.”

He only smiled. Damn him.

Setting down his bottle of whiskey on the floor, he grabbed your shoulders, “I’m not gonna do it, not unless we all agree. It’s like you said, we don’t have a lot of options, so we need to make our own.”

“Why is killing yourself an option?” you argued, struggling to look him in the eye as if he was already dead. Like he was just a figment of your imagination designed to haunt you and taunt you for words left unsaid. He was still here with you but your mind, treacherous as it was, was already imagining his hunter’s funeral. How the wood would burn and how you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about him in hell. The chance of him dying, of losing him, had always been a real thing but now, more than ever, it felt real. 

“It’s me or 7 billion people,” he pointed out gently, swiping his thumb over your cheek to wipe a tear away. “I’m not that important of a person, but I can make an important decision. That has to count for something, right?”

“We’ll find something,” you promised. “I’ll find something.”

He smiled again at your determination, “That’s my girl.”

He pulled you in close. Underneath the smell of whiskey, you could smell the minty soap he always uses. You breathed it all in, trying to ignore the fact that learning his new plan felt like being splashed with ice cold water. He seemed to notice you tense up, because he spoke up again, “Do you wanna dance with me?”

“What?”

“It’ll be just like Cedar Falls,” he offered teasingly. “And besides, it’s just you and me here anyway.”

The corner of your lips twitched upward at the memory, “We have no music.”

A beat. 

He stood up, making a show of clearing his throat. Liquid courage was truly something else.

“A few stolen moments is all that we share,” he began, grinning stupidly at you. Though Dean was usually the singer between the two (as much as he tried to deny it, him belting out Toni Braxton in the shower told you all otherwise), Sam wasn’t bad at holding a tune. He gave you that look, telling you that what he was doing was just for you, and only you, as he guided your hands to rest on his shoulders, “You’ve got your family and they need you there.”

He started swaying, so you attempted to return the favor by continuing the song, “Though I’ve tried to resist, being last on your list… but no other man’s gonna dooo…”

“So I’m saving all my love for youuu…” you both sang in unison, wide grins on both of your faces at the sheer cheesiness of the situation. You took turns singing the lyrics, dancing slowly by the fireplace. For a moment, you could almost forget that the world was about to end, but you thought maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad if Sam’s face was the last thing you ever saw. Not bad at all.

▼△▼△▼△▼△▼

It was the year 2000. You were comfortably tucked under the cheap motel blanket, watching reruns of the Golden Girls. John had taken Dean out to do a salt and burn somewhere near the outskirts of town, leaving you alone to guard all your belongings as Sam went to his senior prom. Bobby owed him one, but sent you instead since the old man was busy helping other hunters. The room telephone rang a few times, and you had half a mind to answer it, before eventually deciding that it probably wasn’t the best idea to leave it hanging in case the Winchesters needed help. 

“Hello?” you rolled over to answer the phone.

“Hey,” came Sam’s voice, sounding smaller than you were used to.

“Sammy,” you sat upright, now holding the phone with both hands, as if you could reach through and pull him next to you. “Are you okay?”

He let out a deep sigh, “I, uh… yeah, I’m okay. I’m coming back to the motel though, I think.”

“What do you mean? I thought prom didn’t end until 10? It’s only 8:45, Sam.”

“So, my date kind of, um, ditched me, I guess?” he replied meekly, drawing breaths between each heavy word. “You know, it’s fine. I should’ve known.”

“No.”

“What?”

“You give me 20 minutes, Sammy. Just stay where you are.”

In less than a fraction of a second, you were up and scouring through your duffle bags in search of something that would resemble a prom dress. Hunting required you to own a small collection of various clothes and finally, you managed to pull out a dress that wasn’t marred in some way. It was deep blue satin, and it wasn’t until a year ago that you were able to grow into it. Feeling the smooth fabric in your hands, you thought of the one time you got to wear it, posing as a lawyer’s (played by John) spoiled daughter. Shockingly, Dean had thrifted it somewhere, somehow not opting to choose the most hideous frilly dress for you. He argued he liked the color, and he didn’t really want to think about what your bust size was, so it stayed unused for a fair while because it didn’t fit you well enough to be convincing.

You slid the dress carefully over your head, and decided that perhaps a little bit of color to your face was needed, lest Sam mistook you for a vengeful spirit. Once again, you dug through the endless pockets of your duffle bag to grab the old red lipstick you had quietly nicked from a witness’ house. It was old, probably expired, but you dabbed the rouge on your cheeks and lips anyway. Ultimately, you decided your hair was better off as it was. You slipped your feet into the uncomfortable and only pair of heels you owned. Even with the dull ache already forming in the balls of your feet, you smiled to yourself.  For once, you weren’t a dirty, bloody, beaten hunter. Tonight, you were just a girl. And even if you weren’t doing this for Sam, it felt wonderful to have a taste of normal.

The motel you stayed at was a short motorcycle ride from the Cedar Falls High School, so you opted to carry a silver dagger and a silver bullet-loaded gun with you for protection. Underneath the dress, of course. Without even stepping foot onto the school property itself, you could already see the familiar silhouette of Sam sitting by himself on the steps of the entrance. The stairs weren’t high at all, and it emphasized how tall he’d gotten in the last couple of months. He hugged himself, hunched over with his eyes closed as he inhaled and exhaled slowly.

Taking in a few breaths of anticipation yourself, you awkwardly walked over to him, steps wobbly and unsure. He looked up at the sound of heels meeting concrete, and you froze. He was wide-eyed, and looking at you. God knows you never thought he’d be able to look at you like that. For a moment, it was like time itself had stopped. The dust floating in the air stilled and butterflies stopped flapping their wings. Sam Winchester, in the suit that was much too big for him, in leather shoes beat up by hours of running around and chasing monsters, sat on the concrete stairs of his school and stared at you like you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

“Hey,” you were the first to break the silence. 

“Hey,’’ a small smile appeared on his face. He pat the space next to him, taking your hand so you could sit down without falling over. “I like the dress. Isn’t this the one you wore last year? When we did that shifter case in Oklahoma?”

You chuckled, “Yeah. I’m surprised you remember.”

“Of course I’d remember.”

Heat blossomed in your cheeks at how casually he said it, and suddenly a random streetlight was the most interesting thing to stare at. Anything was more interesting to look at than his stupidly beautiful and kind eyes.

Sam spoke up again, “You didn’t have to come here, you know. I could’ve just gone back to the motel.”

“And waste this outfit?” you gestured to his ill-fitting suit, grinning wide. “I don’t think so.” 

He laughed, and somehow you think this was the first real laugh he’d let out in the past week. He was less tense now, more open. This was the Sammy you knew. This was the joy you wanted him to feel for as long as you were around. 

“Dance with me,” you stood up, offering your hand to him. “That’s what you’re supposed to do at prom, right?”

His eyes widened, his back slouching as if he was trying to hide from you, “Uh, no.”

“Come onnn, Sammy!”

“No!” he laughed, trying to scoot away from you. You tried to grab his wrist, but his sudden movement threw you off balance, causing you to nearly fall over... but Sam caught you. He held a firm grip on your arm, forcing you to notice just how much he’s grown up. His arms were strong; toned from years of John’s training in addition to hunting. Now standing, he was taller than both his father and brother, yet he felt uncomfortable in his body. Like he didn’t know what to do with all of it. Like he was still just awkward, nerdy Sam. But he wasn’t. Not anymore. You didn’t really know how to feel about that.

“Thanks,” you said breathlessly, trying to come back to reality. “Dance with me? I can hear your school’s speakers all the way from here. Let’s make the most of it, hm?”

“Okay,” he agreed, finally, looking a little awestruck by what just happened. Gently, he placed his hands, which were much larger than yours, on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. The muffled sound of Whitney Houston’s “Saving All My Love For You” echoed from inside the school. The two of you started swaying slowly to the music, just enjoying each other’s company. There were no monsters here tonight, and there was no hunting to be done.

Your eyes flickered upwards to look at Sam, his own eyes closed and his lips pressed into a peaceful smile. For once, he looked 17. For once, he was just a boy.

Resting your head on his chest as the music swept you away into another world, there was one thought that lingered in your mind: this was how things should be.

[destielomegaversebigbang]

The Omega Classifieds

Posting August 28, 2024

Fic by ValandraWrites

Art by Nootussy

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Life isn’t easy for a single Omega. Without an Alpha on record, Dean can’t work, can’t mate, and by law, should have been turned over to The Omega Center to be trained and auctioned off for mating. To avoid that fate, Dean resorts to the Omega Classifieds to try and find a mate. The enigmatic and charming Castiel Krushnic catches his eye and maybe his heart, but will he make his claim official before Dean’s luck runs out?

Tags: Non-Con, Sexual Assult, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Sex Worker Dean Winchester, Young Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Sam Winchester, Smart Dean Winchester, Letters, Epistolary, Historical Inaccuracy, Historical, Historica Setting, Rich Castiel (Supernatural), Russian Castiel (Supernatural), Mating Bites, Rape/Non-con Elements, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Forced Bonding, Forced Mating, Selectively Mute Dean Winchester, Traumatized Dean Winchester, Protective Sam Winchester, Baltimore, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Castiel Saves Dean Winchester, Sensitive Castiel (Supernatural), Criminal Castiel (Supernatural), Castiel's Family Being Assholes (Supernatural), Possessive Alphas, Scars

Excerpt below the cut

"Do you think this one will scar as well?" Dean asked with a wistful smile, running soft fingers over the new bite positioned on the opposite side of his body from his mating bite. "It seems they all do, even if logic suggests they shouldn’t. Only mating bites scar like this," Castiel remarked, his fingers touching the delicate lines of the mark. "And yet," Dean smiled up at him, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes. "And yet," Castiel agreed softly, pressing a kiss to Dean's forehead. "I don’t know why I do it, why I need to do it again and again. I know it’s not normal…" Castiel confessed, his voice tinged with uncertainty. "Alpha," Dean soothed, lifting his head and peering into the blue eyes he had come to adore. "I love that you bite me. I don’t think it would feel right without your bite. When we’re old and watching our grandpups and great-grandpups, I hope there isn’t an inch of me that you haven’t marked." "I don’t… I shouldn’t like the idea of that. I’m not one of those Alphas who want to own and control their omegas, but the idea of you being so completely mine, our life together recorded on your skin… I love it. I want that," Castiel admitted, his voice filled with a mixture of vulnerability and longing. Their whispered conversation lingered in the air, wrapped in the warm breeze filtering through the window. His heart full of affection for his Alpha, overwhelmed by the tenderness and affection that radiated from Castiel's every touch. As they lay together, lost in the quiet intimacy of their shared embrace, Dean felt a sense of peace. They drifted off to sleep, wrapped in each other's arms.

[smolderingflame]

Oops I wrote a Supernatural Fic 'Take Me Home Tonight' (Castiel/Dean) By SmolderingFlame

Take Me Home Tonight by SmolderingFlame

Rating: Explicit

Archive Warning: Graphic depictions of violence

Category: M/M

Fandoms: Supernatural

WIP

Relationship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters: Dean Winchester, Castiel, Sam Winchester, John Winchester, Charlie Bradbury, Gabriel, Michael, Anna, Balthazar, Crowley, Benny Lafitte, Bobby Singer, Ellen Harvelle, Jo Harvelle, Jody Mills

Summary: It seemed like it was going to be just another crappy night for Dean Winchester, stuck working the front desk at his father's garage thanks to antiquated ideas of Omegas lacking mechanic skills. That was until a gorgeous car driven by an even more gorgeous Alpha pulls up needing a new battery.

Before he knows it Dean's whole life starts to change and Castiel Novak (or at least that's the name he's given) is much more than meets the eye.

Tags: Alternate universe, Assassins and hitmen, John Winchester being an asshole, Russian Mafia, Minor Character death, Crossdressing, Feminization, Russian Castiel, Omega Dean Winchester, Alpha Castiel, Bottom Dean Winchester, Top Castiel, Twink Dean Winchester, Slutty Dean Winchester, Tattooed Castiel, Protective Castiel, Good brother Sam, Sexism, Slutty clothing, Rough sex, Castiel loves Dean (and vice versa), Butt Plugs, Claiming, Knotting, Mating Cycles, Possessive Castiel, Romance, Comedy, Sugar Daddy Castiel, Sugar Baby Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester deserves nice things, Slut shaming, Cock slut Dean Winchester, Castiel/Dean Winchester first kiss, Crime Lord Castiel, possible Mpreg, Older man/younger man, Daddy Kink

[noxemma]

Super late start, but here's the first chapter of a fic for @winchester-reload's Hot Summer Art challenge (better late than never, right?)

Tags, Rating, Word Count, AO3 link, etc. at the bottom

Beside Your Side

Fic Summary: Dean convinces Sam to look into a potential case where people are going missing from a New Jersey beach town. Of course, they have to bring Cas and Eileen along, just in case it's not a monster. Dean is excited to get the case over quickly and enjoy a well-earned vacation with the people he loves the most. Nothing ever seems to go the way Dean plans it though, and this case is no exception.

Chapter 1: Down to the Seaside

Dean

“Dude, really?” Sam quirks a brow and gives Dean a look that would make him feel guilty if he was actually bullshitting. But, for once, he’s not and he can’t stop how giddy it makes him.

“I’m serious, Sammy! Over the last couple of weeks, five people have gone missing and then a day or two later, a mysterious sand sculpture shows up on the beach looking just like them! Tell me that doesn’t sound like our kind of thing.”

“I mean, it does, but-” Sam hedges.

“But what?” Dean tries not to whine or pout or let on just how excited he really is. “We can’t take a case because it’s on a beach? Can’t go because, God forbid, if it does end up being nothing, we might take a day or two and enjoy a vacation for once? C’mon, Sam. Haven’t we earned it?”

“Geez, fine! We’ll check it out,” Sam huffs. He maintains his stern expression for a few seconds before a twinkle lights his eyes and a small smile starts to form. “But I’m inviting Eileen. Just in case it is, you know, nothing.”

“Deal, but then we have to invite Cas too. It’s only fair he gets to join in if you’re bringing Eileen,” Dean blurts excitedly, already daydreaming about spending time in the sand and sun with the people he loves most. It takes a few too many beats for his brain to catch the slip and he quickly adds, “It’s not like I have a girlfriend, so it’s only fair I get to invite my best friend. Plus, you know, with his grace thing, some R&R might do him good. And if not, then at least a case will take his mind off it.”

“Uh, yeah. Sure. Of course, Cas should come.” Sam makes a funny face and looks like he wants to say more, but mercifully stays silent.

“It’s settled then, we’re headed seaside. I love New Jersey!” Dean whoops as he hustles to his room to dig out swim trunks while Sam lets out a groan.

---

“Ughhh! I hate New Jersey!” Dean growls as Baby inches another few feet forward before stopping again. This vacation case is not going at all how he planned, and they haven’t even made it to the beach yet. He tries to tell himself that he’s only frustrated because of the standstill traffic they’re caught in, but he knows it has more to do with the angel in his passenger seat who’s been silent for nearly the entire trip. Normally he doesn’t mind the silence with Cas.

That’s probably because, normally, it feels peaceful. Not this odd tension. I don’t even know why he’s being weird. People are usually happy to be invited on vacation, Dean stews, gritting his teeth as the truck in front of him bursts forward a few hundred feet only to grind to a halt as another car cuts it off trying to merge into the marginally faster moving lane.

“Jesus! If everyone could stop being an asshole, we could all get where we’re going sometime this year!” Dean shouts, funneling his mounting frustration into road rage.

“I told you the traffic was going to get bad,” Sam huffs over the phone. “It’s your fault you spent so long grocery shopping.”

“Whatever, you’ll thank me when you see how expensive everything is on the island!” Dean can practically hear Sam’s eye roll and hopes Sam can hear his responding one. “Anyway, you guys are probably almost there, right?”

“Yeah, we should be just a few miles away-”

“There’s the bridge!” Eileen excited shout drowns out whatever his brother had been about to say. “I’m so excited; it’s been at least three or four years since I’ve been to a beach.”

“Wow, you really did make good time. Okay so the key should be under the mat if you want to go in and start getting settled. Don’t expect too much though. It’s pretty small and Mom’s friend said it hadn’t really been updated since we were there last, which is at over two decades so...”

“Dean, I’m sure it will be fine. I still can’t believe that Mom and Dad actually took us on vacation here. What was I anyway, like a month old?”

Dean grins as he recalls nearly faded memories of the four of them. Snippets of sand, waves, boardwalk lights, sticky fingers, toothy grins, and a huge umbrella covering his mom and baby Sam flash through his mind. Some are so strong like his father lifting him over the waves and some are so faded they are more feelings than tangible memory, but they’re all still precious.

“We came late July, so you were almost three months, smartass. But yeah, what are the odds and that Dad still had the contact info in his journal and it would still be available to rent on short notice? Anyway, given the rate we’re going, which is zero, we’ll probably be an hour or so behind you.”

“Okay, well, we'll see you when you get here, jerk,” Sam initiates their standard farewell, and Dean silently curses him for it.

“See you when we get there, bitch,” Dean responds reluctantly. The line goes dead, and he heaves a frustrated sigh now that the conversation with his brother isn’t distracting him from the traffic or the blue gaze he’d felt swing his way partway through the conversation.

Another twenty minutes of mind-numbing traffic goes by before Dean’s skin starts to itch. He swaps tapes then switches to the radio, but nothing helps quell his mounting awareness of the solemn, blue-eyed angel in his periphery.

“Dean?” Cas says so abruptly that Dean nearly jerks his foot off the brake. “Something’s been bothering me.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” Dean tries to tease but an exasperated edge sneaks in.

Cas frowns, but goes on, “Why am I coming with you?”

“Why wouldn’t you? You’re part of the team and we’ve got a potential case,” Dean quickly delivers the line he definitely did not practice.

“Dean.”

Dean makes the mistake of meeting Cas’ gaze, and he gulps at the intensity of it.

“Sam and Eileen are a couple, not to mention seasoned hunters,” Cas states before his words soften. “I’m effectively human again. How did you put it? A baby in a trench coat.”

Dean cringes at having those words flung back at him. Cas’ shoulders slump and he sounds like he really believes he has no place on this trip simply because he can’t access his grace, which is unacceptable.

“Cas, I should have never said that. So, you might not be able to do your normal angel stuff but-” Dean starts.

“Then why-?”

Dean cuts Cas off with a growl and a smack to the steering wheel.

“You’d know if you’d let me finish. Christ, you’re here because I want you here! I want to finish up this case quickly then relax on a beach with my family like we deserve after everything we’ve been through. I want to hang out with my best friend when Sam and Eileen go off on dates instead of being left alone like the sad schmuck I am!”

Like what you read? You can find the rest of the chapter here on AO3

Rating: Explicit

Chapters: 1/? (hopefully 9 😂)

Chapter Word Count: ~6,000

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Castiel/Dean Winchester, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Case Fic, Established Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester, Beach Case, Cannon when convenient, Mutual Pining, Idiots in Love, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con (Dean and background characters), Non-Consensual Touching (Not between Dean and Cas), Hurt/Comfort, I promise it's not as dark as it sounds, Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, clueless Sam Winchester, Chick-Flick Moments, Cannon typical misunderstandings, Angst?, One day I'll learn how to tag, WIP, JackieDeeArt's Hot Summer Art 2024 (Supernatural), Hot Summer Art, Greek Mythology if you Squint, No Beta, Everyone is bad with words, Except Eileen who is the only emotionally stable person for miles, Dean Winchester Loves Castiel, Castiel Loves Dean Winchester, Angel Grace Dysfunction

[hintsofhoney]

Don't Forget It

Paring(s): Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: While working a case with Dean, he gets jealous of the way you interact with a suspect and decides to remind you who you belong to.

Tags: 18+, p in v, unprotected sex (be smart), rough sex, jealous dean, spanking, light dom/sub dynamics, sex in a public place, begging, voyeurism if you squint

Word Count: 2.2k

A/N: Just another finished work that's been sitting in my drive, collecting dust. Beta'd by my loves @makeadealwithdean and @wayward-dreamer; love you both to the moon and back 🤍 GIF is mine. Enjoy!

You can also read me on Ao3!

DEAN WINCHESTER MASTERLIST |  SUPERNATURAL MASTERLIST |  MAIN MASTERLIST

You don’t miss the way Dean’s eyebrow raises when you lift one leg to sit on the man’s desk, twirling your hair and batting your eyelashes as you try to get him to confess. You’re fully aware of the way your pencil skirt is riding up, revealing more skin than you care to show to this douchebag probably-murderer, but it’s clear that he’s way more interested in speaking to you than Dean. If it helps move the case along, you can turn on the charm.

Dean’s watching you from the corner of the room as you flirt with the sleazebag, his jaw clenching as he reminds himself that you’re just doing your job, but it doesn’t make him want to remind you who you belong to any less. Especially when you look like that . Tight skirt, the top three buttons of your blouse undone, and then when you lean over pretending to laugh at something this guy had said, he catches a glimpse of your black lace bra, and he finds himself trying not to think about ripping it off of you. Not that it was working.

“You know, you’re a pretty little thing, Agent,” the man smirks, and then he’s reaching for the exposed part of your thigh and you’re wishing he wouldn’t , and Dean clears his throat so loudly it startles the both of you. You hop off the desk as the suspect turns around to look at him.

“I think we’re done here,” Dean says, walking over to the desk and pulling a fake business card with his real phone number on it out of his inner suit jacket pocket. “If you remember anything, Mr. McAnn, give me a call.” He tosses the card carelessly onto his desk.

Mr. McAnn huffs. “Yeah, alright, Agent.”

You and Dean both know the phone call isn’t coming; you’re going to need to find another way to prove the dickhead sitting in front of you murdered his wife — possessed or not.

“Let’s go, Y/N,” Dean grits out, his eyes not leaving Mr. McAnn’s as he walks to the door. You follow suit, and the anger in your boyfriend’s voice doesn’t go unnoticed. Dean’s already ten steps ahead of you by the time you’re fully out of the office.

“Dean!” you call after him, speed-walking to match his brisk pace down whatever corporate building hallway you were in. “Slow down, I’m in heels!” 

You catch up to him and grab his wrist, spinning him around. 

“The hell’s gotten into you?” 

He huffs in disbelief, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he tongues the inside of his cheek, thinking of how to answer that question. 

“You can’t be serious,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest and raising your eyebrows, realizing what’s gotten his panties in a twist. “I was trying to get him to confess , Dean.”

“I’m not — I know. Okay? But —” he pauses, beginning to stalk towards you, a hunger in his eyes that tells you exactly where this interaction is heading. You nearly trip over yourself as you walk backwards, a soft gasp leaving your lips when your back hits the wall. “Doesn’t mean I like watching you slutting it up for the asshole.” 

He’s got you fully caged in between his arms now, one hand on either side of your shoulders, his face inches away from yours. 

“You’re mine .”

You roll your eyes. As hot as he is when he’s jealous and possessive, it’s not like he can fuck you in this hallway. Plus, he’s being ridiculous anyway. 

“Your point ?” you prod, probably further than you should. 

“My —” he huffs again, his hands back on his hips, shaking his head before looking around. “Oh, I’ll show you my fucking point, sweetheart.”

He grabs your wrist, ignoring your squeal, and drags you a few feet down the hall, turning into the women’s bathroom and locking the door behind him. His eyes quickly scan underneath the three stalls before he determines the two of you are alone. 

“Dean —”

He cuts off your protest with his hands on your waist, walking you back into the nearby sinks before hoisting you up onto the counter. 

“Dean!” you yelp in surprise. 

He pays it no mind as he reaches for your blouse, tearing it open in one quick motion, plastic buttons clattering to the floor.

“Dean!” you scold, and Jesus, how many times can you say his name in different ways in one minute?

He remains unphased, focused on two things and two things only, both of which he reveals as he pulls down the cups of your bra.

“Christ, Y/N,” he breathes, cupping your breasts in his hands as he stares at them like it’s his first time ever seeing boobs. His thumbs flick over both of your nipples at the same time, and you arch your back as a moan escapes you.

“Mm, fuck.”

He leans in, his breath fanning over your earlobe as he continues tweaking your nipples. “Might as well have shown that dickhead in there these fuckin’ tits, the way your shirt was hanging open. Left really fuckin’ little to the imagination, Y/N,” he whispers, drawing more sounds from your throat. “He was probably sitting there thinking about doing all the things I’m doing to you right now. And I don’t like that. That’s my fuckin’ point.” He pinches one of your nipples, a yelp leaving your lips. “Understand?”

You nod, unable to form words.

“I can’t hear you.” He pinches the other peak and pulls a little. 

“Oh — fuck! Yes, I understand,” you answer. “I’m yours, I’m yours.” 

“And don’t forget it.” 

His lips find your breasts, and soon he’s sucking bruises into your skin and teasing your nipples with his tongue. He’s everywhere at once, everywhere but where you really need him, and you’re not sure how much more of this torture you can take.

“Dean, please,” you gasp, and he lets out an irritated grunt as he pulls his mouth off one of your breasts, seeming annoyed that you had interrupted his fun with your begging. You can’t blame him – he’s a boob guy. Especially if they’re your boobs. 

“I’m not done yet,” he states, before resuming his attack – for lack of a better word – on your breasts.

You groan in protest, the heat between your thighs building, and you spread your legs as far as your skirt will allow. The cool air that hits your core reminds you that you had chosen to forego underwear today, and you reach down to shimmy your skirt up to your hips while Dean’s still focused on your breasts. You’re able to spread your legs a bit further now, and you can’t help but chuckle at the fact that your boyfriend still hasn’t noticed you fully on display. 

He pulls away an inch or so when he hears your giggling. “Somethin’ funny?”

“You really are a boob guy, huh?” You shake your head in disbelief, biting back a smile. He furrows his eyebrows in confusion, and you use the opportunity to lean forward, simultaneously pulling him towards you by his shoulders so you can whisper in his ear. “You’ve been so focused on them you haven’t taken the time to look down yet, have you?”

He pulls away, still confused, until his eyes dart down to your core. “Jesus – wait – did you –”

“Was debating between those panties you really like or just foregoing them altogether,” you shrug.

“Fuck,” he breathes, staring at your dripping core for a few moments before a second wave of feral hunger hits him. “ Fuck .”

Before you can even process his movements, you’re bent over the counter instead of sitting on it, your legs kicked apart with two fingers plunging into your heat. 

“Oh my – Dean !” you squeal at both the abruptness and the roughness of it all.

“Don’t know what you expected, sweetheart, walking around with everything on fuckin’ display.” He crooks his fingers at just the right angle, and you bite back a scream.

“I – fuck – nothing w-was on display – oh God !” 

“Might as well have been. This tight little skirt of yours doesn’t leave much to the imagination, either. And then to find out there’s been nothing underneath it this whole time?”

“Ow!” you exclaim, as a loud smack fills the air, courtesy of Dean’s hand landing on your bare ass. 

“ Louder ,” he growls. “I want the whole fuckin’ building to know they can imagine whatever they want, but I’m the only one who gets to act on it.” He pulls his fingers out of you and spanks you again.

“De – oh, fuck !” you choke out. “Please, Dean.”

“Please what?” he asks nonchalantly, and you can hear his belt buckle clinking behind you.

“Fuck me. Please, I need you to fuck me.”

“ Need me to, huh?” You hear the zipper of his slacks, and you shift your weight in anticipation, your ass squirming. He lands another smack on your left cheek – the hardest one yet.

“DEAN!” you yelp, and you’re certain the entire building heard that one.

“There you go. Now beg that loud and I may just give you what you want,” he chuckles, grabbing a fistful of your hair and bringing your face up from the counter while he runs his cock through your soaked folds. 

“Please!” you groan.

“Mm-mm, not hearin’ you, sweetheart.”

“Deaaaan!” you whine, pushing your hips back, trying to force him inside you. 

“You know what to do, Y/N.” 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath – there’s only so much of this you can take. You focus on his cock teasing your folds for a few moments, and that’s all the encouragement you need.

“Please, Dean! Please, fuck me!”

“That’s better. Louder.”

“Jesus fucking – FUCK ME, NOW!”

You’re rewarded immediately, and he bottoms out inside you with ease. 

“Was that so hard?”

“Fuck me,” you reply through gritted teeth, “or I’m gonna go get Mr. McAnn to do it.”

That is both the very wrong and very right thing to say. 

You yelp as he yanks up harder on your hair, your chest leaving the counter. His hand moves to rest on your neck – not choking you, simply holding you in place – and then he pounds into you harder than he ever has before. 

“You are something else, you know that?” he hisses, his thrusts hard and fast. “I know you were only acting like a slut for Mr. Douchebag back there, but it just comes so – fucking – easy – to you, doesn’t it?” He punctuates his words with more thrusts. “And not wearin’ any underwear – that wasn’t for the act, hm? That was because you were hopin’ to end up like this, yeah?” His hand moves from your throat to grip underneath your jaw when you fail to answer. “ Yeah ?”

“Yeah – oh m-my God – fuck , D-Deaaan.”

He smirks, watching you in the mirror above the counter as you slowly come apart on his cock. “No, you don’t have to act like a slut for me, sweetheart. You just are one, hm?” 

You nod to the best of your ability. 

“Open your eyes, look at yourself,” he orders, his grip on your jaw tightening as his thrusts speed up. You do as you’re told, meeting your reflection in the mirror. You’re not sure if your mascara is smudged because of sweat or tears, your hair looks like a bird has made its home in it, and you can’t remember a time that you’ve looked this fucked out. “See what I mean?” Dean questions. “Sluttiest you’ve ever fuckin’ looked. Not that I’m complaining.” 

You feel the dam inside you about to break, and you let out a whimper in warning. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, almost out of breath, his tone laced with pity. “Are you gonna cum?”

“Mm-hm,” you nod, whimpering again.

“You like being my slut that much, hm?”

“Dean, please,” you beg, squeezing your eyes shut, stalling your release as much as you can. You’re not sure why – it’s not like you have to wait for his permission – but you find yourself wanting it. 

“Christ, Y/N,” he breathes, quickly realizing what you’re asking for. His thrusts are becoming erratic, and you know he’s close too. “Hold it, baby. Can you do that?”

“I don’t –”

“Mmm, I think you can. I’m – fuck – I’m close. Be a good little slut and hold it. Want you – shit – want you to cum with me, sweetheart.”

You find yourself nodding, focusing on Dean’s pants in your ear instead of the precipice of your release, and a few seconds go by before expletives are falling from his lips and you know it’s safe for you to let go.

Your dam breaks. “Oh, God – fuck – Dean!”

“Fuuuuuck,” he moans, filling you up. He lets his forehead fall to your shoulder as he catches his breath, post-orgasmic shivers running through him as you ride out your high, your walls clenching around his cock. “Fuck, you feel so good,” he pants, lifting his head to press a kiss behind your ear. “Such a perfect fuckin’ slut.”

You manage a soft giggle as your body settles. “Only for you, babe.”

He chuckles, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder as he stares at your reflection in the mirror. 

“And don’t you forget it.”

[destielbeatlesminibang]

Title: Anna, Go to Him

Author: butterflyslinky

Artist: golby moon

Rating: Teen and Up

Summary: Dean arrives at a new (but hopefully last) high school, where he meets overachiever Anna. There may be something going on there...if only she would stop talking up this guy called Cas.

Tags: Anna/Charlie, One-sided Anna/Dean, High School AU, Gaming, Misunderstandings, School Dance, Fluff

Posting on June 27

Keep reading for a short excerpt.

“Hey!”

Dean looked up to see a pretty red-haired girl coming over. She smiled at him and put her tray down across from his. “Hi,” Dean said, a little wrong-footed. He’d known girls before, sure, even briefly had a girlfriend once, but he wasn’t quite sure why this one was sitting down with him.

“I saw you were sitting alone,” she explained as though reading his thoughts. “And thought I should come over.” She held out her hand. “Anna Milton, senior class president.”

Oh, of course. A rah-rah school spirit type. Still, hot. “Dean Winchester,” he said, shaking her hand. No need to be unfriendly, after all.

“I know, Principle Harvelle told me. You just moved here from Texas?”

“Minnesota. Dad’s military, we move a lot.”

“I see. So you’re here for…?”

“The year. Then I graduate and get the hell out.”

“It’s not so bad…why don’t you come to the game on Friday? Get to know people?”

Dean sighed. “Look, Patty Simcox, I know you’re just doing your cheerleader president school spirit job here, but I’m not really interested in making friends right now. I just wanna get through the year so I can go to community college and set up a job.”

He half-hoped that little diatribe might make Anna go away, but it didn’t. She looked at him for a moment, her smile unwavering, then picked up her chocolate milk with a shrug.

“Okay, Danny Zukko, don’t come,” she said. “But your too cool for school bad boy attitude isn’t going to get you very far next year, so why don’t you try not being an asshole and see if it helps?”

Dean stared at her, then laughed. “Yeah, I deserved that,” he admitted. “But I also just don’t care about football.”

“Okay,” Anna said. “What do you care about? Theater, volunteering, music?”

“Um…I play guitar,” Dean said. “Kind of. And I wrestled last year. But I’ve never really been in one place long enough to join any clubs or anything.”

“Well, if there’s anything you want to try, just let me know! We have clubs for everything here, and they’re all great places to meet people!”

“Sure,” Dean said. “Thanks, I guess.” He poked at his food. “Which ones are you in besides student council?”

“4H, Honors Club, student paper, marching band, GSA, and sometimes I go to the gaming club if I have time.” She smiled ruefully. “Which isn’t often.”

“Yeah, sounds like,” Dean said. “When do you sleep?”

“Study hall,” Anna said. “Any of that appeal to you?”

“Not really, no.”

She sighed. “You sound like Cas…he’s also an antisocial drip.”

Dean groaned. “Okay, how’s this–I go to this game, and if I hate it, you let me be antisocial for the rest of the year.”

“Deal,” Anna said. “And if you have fun, you’ll join at least one activity with me.”

“Done.” They shook hands on it, both trying hard not to start giggling. “See you Friday, then.”

“Why don’t you come eat with us?” Anna asked.

“Don’t push it, sweetheart.”

[eroswmorals]

about me :)) (tw: flashing at the bottom i put blinkies there)

Call me Eros (or Sparrow since that's what I go by irl)

My otherkin sideblog is @that-dog-is-so-gender

My weird fan sideblog is @susan-stanleycup lmao I made it to torment my bf

I post my art very inconsistently, but if you wanna see it, it can all be found under the tag #artists on tumblr (no guarantee it'll be good lol especially as you find the older shit)

My original posts are under the tag #eros says shit

He/it/dae

Transmasc

Bi and aspec (grayromantic, graysexual, aplspec, afamilial)

Minor 18+ blogs don't follow

'MURICAN 🦅🦅

DM's are open to mutuals only

I am not in a place where I can donate anything, I am a minor

I'm bilingual and know English and Spanish but English is my first language (I've been going to bilingual schools since I was like 6) so that's fun

DNI if you're younger than 13

DNI homophobes, transphobes, aphobes, terfs, racists, sexists, MAPS (pedophiles. yall cant hide behind an acronym), transracial ppl idk, etc. Bigoted assholes can kindly fuck off, thank you ;)

I support furries and otherkins and therians and all that jazz so if you don't like that ig just deal with it? Touch grass? Doesn't rly matter if you see ppl on the internet just being themselves it's not a personal attack.

I block freely and if I don't like your vibe I'm gonna do that

All the extra stuff is under the keep reading thing bc it's long and painful to read. If you don't wanna read it some of the fandoms I'm in are specified in the tags <2

All the shit I like:

Stuff I watch - Helluva Boss - Brandon Rogers - DEADPOOL MOVIES!!!!!! AGHJAKJHGFCDFGHJ - X-Men '97 - The New Mutants (the movie sucked but it has a special place in my heart, ok? I love Rahne Sinclair) - Supernatural (I'm on season 9 rn) - Good Omens - Dead Boy Detectives

Musicals I like: - Sweeney Todd: The Demon Barber of Fleet Street (2007) - RHPS - Cabaret (1998) - Falsettos - West Side Story - Beetlejuice - Addams Family - Prolly more I forgot to list but those are my faves

Music I like (not including musicals): - Remo Drive - Mitski - Fall Out Boy - NOAHFINNCE - MCR - boygenius - IDKHBTFM - Jack Stauber - The Amazing Devil - Queen - Billy Joel - Green Day - Tom Petty

Hobbies ig - Sewing - Drawing - Making kandi (although my bf does it better he's the bead master he taught me his ways and I am but a lowly bead wench compared to his bead mastery) - Building shit - I write a little bit of poetry and I'm proud of it but I don't show people it often and it's shitty but oh well - Flower arranging (god I'm just pulling things out of my ass atp) - Sobbing into my pillow over the full moon episode - Makeup - Fashion design - Idk being a furry? Drawing them? Wearing my dino mask is fun I like to bite things with it it's very nice

Characters I kin (not in a fictionkin way but I do support y'all) - Crowley (Good Omens) - Stolas (Helluva Boss) - Blitz (Helluva Boss) - Dean Winchester (Supernatural) - Castiel (Supernatura) - Deadpool (All media. He's my babygirl)

I'm like always adding to this lol

[coro-chan6]

Somehow Supernatural

Chapter 4: Something New in the New

Summary: Casey gets threatened with death, but gets to leave with Crowley, so it's fine.

Tags: teen!oc, gn!oc, superpowered!oc, Winchesters being assholes, Castiel being the voice of reason, Dean pissing himself, demon dogs, crying

Sam told me to sit down on the couch and not move. Of course, I didn’t move. He was shoving a fucking angel blade in my face. He looked so angry, and his anger didn’t simmer when he saw my scared shitless face. It didn’t even simmer when Dean and Castiel came into the room.

“They're a monster, Dean,” Sam told his brother right as he entered the room. Dean didn’t look angry. He just looked disappointed.

The older brother sighed, “Guess I really do have to kill them.”

“No!” Castiel and Crowley yelled out.

I would have protested too, but I was so fucking scared. It’s no fun being on the bad side of the Winchesters. For the first time since this whole thing started, I really just wanted to go home. The only thing that was scary back at home was grades. No one was trying to kill me there.

“What do you mean no?” Sam’s head snapped to Castiel, “This is what we agreed on.”

“You can’t kill them,” Castiel moved so his body was blocking mine, “I won’t let you.”

“Neither will I, by the way,” Crowley stepped up next to Cas, “They’re special. They're not just some low-level demon that I’ll allow you to kill off.”

“So, they’re a demon?” Dean asked.

“I don’t know,” Crowly responded honestly.

Well, that was really reassuring. The fucking King of Hell couldn’t figure out what I was, the Winchester brothers wanted to kill me, and I was freaking out. It was too fucking early for the shit.

“They are not a demon,” Castiel finally decided to say something, “They are not a monster. They are, however, something very powerful-”

“More of a reason to kill them!”

“Do not interrupt me, Dean,” Dean looked taken aback, but stayed quiet, “They may be powerful, but they don’t know how to use this power. They are as harmful as a paper cut. They are also a child. You will not kill someone that is innocent just because they have powers that they weren’t aware of.”

“You’re telling me they didn’t know!” It was Sam this time that yelled.

Castiel stayed calm, “No, they didn’t know. Look how scared they are.”

The angel moved over slightly so the brothers could get a good look at me. I don’t remember when it happened, but tears were now on my face. I was trying to make myself as small as possible as if that would keep me safe, and, again, I had no idea what was going on. They could probably see it in my eyes.

Castiel was now fully back in front of me and I was grateful. Not to sound like a broken record, but I was so fucking scared. I looked over to Crowley and saw he was already looking at me. If I wasn’t hallucinating, it looked like the demon felt bad.

“...so we’re not going to kill them,” Castiel was still talking, “We can take them somewhere else, but we’re not killing them.”

I heard huffs of agreement before Castiel moved from in front of me. I saw Sam and it looked like he felt pretty guilty for almost shanking me. He couldn’t meet my eyes. Dean just stared at me like he was expecting me to do something bad any second.

Crowley didn’t move from his spot in front of me. I didn’t mind, but I think others had something to say about it.

“Why are you still standing there?” Dean asked. His eyes were accusatory.

“The dog is in front of me,” Crowley stated casually.

“What dog? There’s no dog, Crowley.”

“Oh, squirrel,” the demon smirked, “It’s a demon dog,” Dean took a huge step back and almost tripped on his own feet, “You of all people should know that they’re invisible.”

“Why…” Dean's face looked as white as a sheet, “Why is there a demon dog in the bunker?”

“Casey asked.”

Dean’s eyes snapped to me. Really? Did Crowley really have to throw me under the bus like that? Right after they agreed not to kill me? Dean looked too scared to be mad, but he still tried. 

“I was curious,” I mumbled.

“J-just get it out of here!” Dean squeaked.

I frowned. One of those big frowns that looks cartoonish.

“Crowley?” I started.

“Yes, child?”

“Could you please make Steven leave?”

“Steven?” Crowley lifted his eyebrow in amusement.

“Yes, Steven. Steven the demon dog. The right-hand man of the King of Hell himself,” I snorted and then started laughing hysterically. I started laughing so hard that more tears ran down my cheeks. Not because of fear this time, but because I named a fucking real-life demon dog Steven.

“Casey is in shock,” Castiel stated.

“Yeah…” Sam muttered guiltily. 

Crowley took out his whistle after staring at me like I was crazy and blew. I felt fur brush across my ankles before the demon said that the demon dog was gone. 

“Now,” Crowley said, “I think it would be best if I took them.”

Sam and Dean looked like they were about to protest, but Crowley gave them the ‘talk to the hand’.

“From what I saw, you can’t keep them safe. If anything, you two idiots would be the ones to kill them, and I will not let that happen. So,” Crowley wiped nonexistent lint from his suit jacket, “They should come with me.”

“Cas?” the old brother asked the angel.

“For now,” Castiel took a breath, “I agree with Crowley.”

“Great! Now go get your stuff, child.” Crowley waved his hand in the general direction of the bedrooms. The thing is, I’d never been to my room before. Remember? I slept on the fucking couch.

“I, um, don’t know where my room is,” I twiddled my thumbs.

“Right, these pigs made you sleep on the couch,” the King of Hell sneered.

“We didn’t-”

“I found them asleep on the couch. You made them sleep on the couch,” Crowley snapped.

“I will lead you to your room. You can get your clothes,” Castiel offered.

There was no chance in hell that I was gonna get more clothes like the ones I had on. I would rather sever my fingers with a plastic knife before wearing these rags. Seriously, who picked these abominations?

“If clothes are all I need to get from there… I think I’m good,” the angel tilted his head in confusion, “The clothes probably look like shit or they’re flannel. I’m not wearing either of those. I have pride.”

Sam and Dean looked offended, but I didn’t really care.

“Crowley can get me clothes that don’t make me wanna wash my eyes with bleach,” I turned to the demon in question, “Right?”

He sighed, “I can.”

“Great! Then, I’m ready to go!”

“Alright, child. Out the door then.”

“You drove?” I was surprised. I thought he was gonna teleport me out of here or I was gonna find out that he had wings. Plus, I had cars in my own world. Riding in one now is so fucking lame when there’s supernatural shit that can help you travel.

Crowley scoffed, “Of course not.”

Crowley and I were at the top of the stairs when I decided to acknowledge the men - and angel - I was leaving behind. I wasn’t very fond of Sam or Dean right now, but Castiel probably saved my ass today. He saw something in me that made him want to spare me. Something that he didn’t see in whoever occupied this body before.

I turned and smiled, “Thanks, Castiel. Hope to see you soon.”

The last thing I saw before the door closed was Dean and Sam looking like guilty little fuckers. They were enough dumb to think that after voting to kill me that they were gonna get a goodbye. 

AN: We're getting to the good part.