#OC!Winchester Fic

[littlesoulshine]

you knew what you were getting into. you said you could sit still. said you could be a good bunny and behave, even with sam’s cock buried balls-deep inside you—warm, pulsing, thick. stretching you just enough to ache without even moving. just enough to make your muscles flutter and your brain melt slow like sugar over heat.

but fuck, this lore book is boring. your pussy’s twitching, drooling, clenching around him without meaning to, your legs pressed tight together on either side of his thighs as you sit in his lap at the war room table, naked except for a pair of fluffy slippers and those stupid little bunny ears still clipped in your hair from earlier.

his hands are on your hips, firm. not moving. not rubbing. not helping.

“go on,” he murmurs, voice deep, rich, damn near amused. “read the part about the black-eyed ones again.”

you swallow, eyes blurry, the words on the page swimming because your cunt won’t stop trying to milk him, your nipples tight, your face flushed. his cock is buried so deep you can feel him throb when he talks. and he knows what he’s doing.

you clear your throat and try again.

“the—the demons of the tenth ring,” you stammer, voice high and shaky, “can only be banished with blood from—fuck—” you shift, just a little, grinding down by accident. his cock hits that perfect spot inside and your body jerks, mouth falling open with a choked moan.

sam sighs.

his hands tighten, lifting you off him just an inch—your pussy makes a slick wet sound when his cock slips out halfway—and you whine, already scrambling to press back down, to take him again, to feel full.

���what did i say?” he says, calm as ever.

“i didn’t mean to, sammy,” you breathe, desperate.

“mh mm…doesn’t matter.” he slides you back down—slow, maddening—and you sob as he sinks back into you, stretch and pressure and fuck, you’re already clenching again, dizzy with it. he reaches over, flips the page back.

“start over.”

your hands shake as you hold the book open. your thighs twitch, pussy soaked, hole fluttering like it’s begging to be used—but sam stays perfectly still beneath you, rock-solid, hot and unmoving.

you’re gonna die like this. best way to die: stuffed full, ruined, cockdrunk, and stuck reading about ancient demons while your guts keep spasming around a thick, hard cock that won’t give you what you need.

you want to grind. want to bounce, sob, cum, and cry and make a mess all over him. but every time you move, he starts the page over. you sniffle. you lick your lips. you try again.

“demons of the tenth ring…”

tags: @soldiersgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @bocadelinfierno @sunnyteume @bejeweledinterludes @k-slla @lunaleah @pieandflannel @zepskies @liiiilsss

[wendichester]

hi! I was thinking if you could write something kinda angst??? where reader have been acting kinda strange and having those little moments where she looks sick, and then she tells dean she's pregnant ! how you think he is going to take it?

Or maybe secret baby ! dean and reader see eachother again after a little bit more than a yer and she's with a pretty baby that looks like him !

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ not ready yet,

summary. you've been keeping your pregnancy from dean and he doesn't take it well.

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 681

notes. i do feel like his initial response would be flight--too scared that he'd turn out like john, that we'd mess you and the baby up. though he would eventually get his head straight and come running back, wanting to do this with you. thanks for the request, love! 🩷

Dean Winchester knows when something’s wrong.

You’ve been acting off for weeks now—ducking out of conversations, getting quiet when Sam asks how you’re doing, disappearing to the bathroom for longer than usual. And the worst part? You won’t tell him what’s going on. It’s eating him alive.

So, when you sit him down in the motel room with that look—wide-eyed and scared, your fingers twisted together like you’re holding yourself together—it feels like a punch in the gut before you’ve even said a word.

“Alright,” Dean says, leaning back against the dresser, arms crossed over his chest. His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it, his jaw tight. “What’s going on? You’ve been weird for weeks.”

You flinch at his tone, but you don’t blame him. He’s been patient, and you’ve been distant. Still, his frustration only makes the knot in your stomach tighten.

“I need to tell you something,” you start, your voice shaky.

“Yeah, no kidding,” Dean snaps, and immediately regrets it when he sees the way your shoulders tense. He softens, exhaling through his nose. “Sorry. Just... talk to me, alright?”

You take a deep breath, trying to find the words, but they feel stuck. Heavy. Impossible.

“I’m pregnant.”

It comes out barely above a whisper, but it feels deafening in the silence that follows.

Dean blinks at you, his expression blank for a moment. And then he laughs—short, sharp, bitter. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke,” you say, your voice trembling. “I’m serious, Dean.”

He stares at you like you’ve just told him the world’s ending. “You’re serious,” he repeats, more to himself than to you. He rubs a hand down his face, pacing a few steps before stopping and turning back to you. “How the hell did this happen?”

You bristle at his tone. “You want me to explain the birds and the bees, Dean? Because I thought you had that part figured out.”

“Don’t,” he says sharply, his voice rising. “Don’t do that. Don’t make this a joke.”

“I’m not joking!” you snap back, standing up now, your hands clenched into fists at your sides. “Do you think I wanted this? Do you think I planned this? Because I didn’t. I didn’t ask for this, Dean.”

“And you think I did?” Dean fires back, his voice breaking. “We’re hunters, for God’s sake! We don’t get white picket fences and diaper changes. This isn’t our life!”

“I know that!” you shout, tears stinging your eyes. “But it’s happening, Dean. Whether you want it or not, it’s happening.”

The room falls into a tense, suffocating silence. Dean looks away, his hands on his hips, his head tilted back like he’s trying to find some kind of answer on the ceiling.

“I can’t do this,” he finally says, his voice barely audible.

The words hit you like a slap, and your breath catches in your throat. “What?”

“I can’t...” Dean shakes his head, his voice rough. “I’m not... I’m not built for this. I’ll screw it up. I’ll screw you up. I can’t—”

“Stop,” you cut him off, your voice breaking. “Just stop. If you don’t want to do this, fine. But don’t stand there and act like you’re protecting me by walking away. You’re just running, Dean. Like you always do.”

His head snaps back to you, hurt flashing in his eyes. “That’s not fair.”

“Neither is this,” you say, tears spilling over now. “But I don’t get to run. I don’t get to walk away from this. So, if you can’t handle it, just say that and go.”

Dean stares at you, his jaw working like he’s trying to say something, but nothing comes out. Finally, he shakes his head and storms out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him.

The silence he leaves behind feels heavier than any words he could’ve said.

You sink back onto the bed, your hands trembling as you press them to your stomach. You’re not sure if you’re more angry or heartbroken, but it doesn’t matter. All you know is that you’re doing this alone.

⋆˚࿔ read part 2

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @lyarr24 ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @rulesareshadesofgrey ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze ⋆ @bossyblondie ⋆ @lieutenantchaos

[samuelsdean]

Flicker

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: "can i hold your hand?" you blurted out, surprised by your own boldness. a flicker of surprise crossed dean's face, quickly replaced by a ghost of a smile that sent a jolt through you. "yeah," he said, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. "yeah, you can."

genre: fluff

word count: 1.3k

author's notes: hi! here's another dean fic because i'm having a winchester brainrot after choosing to rewatch the show for the nth time. it's fluff again because i'm a sucker for soft!dean and i like it when idiots who are mutually pining for each other finally hold hands after 9989 years.

THE WIND HOWLED LIKE A WOLF ON A FULL MOON ON A PERPETUALLY OVERCAST NIGHT. It scoured the dust from the abandoned house's roof, a skeletal silhouette against the bruise-colored sky. The once-white picket fence weathered to a sickly gray, stood like crooked teeth in a decaying grin. The trees behind it, looming and stark, clawed at the sky, their branches whispering secrets the wind refused to carry.

You shivered, the cold a mere whisper compared to the unsettling feeling that prickled your skin. This place, nestled in a forgotten fold of a desolate highway at the edge of a forest, vibrated with a wrongness that made the hairs on your arms stand on end.

"This place feels… dicey," Dean muttered, his voice barely audible over the wind. He scanned the deserted midway, his eyes narrowed in a way that spoke volumes of past encounters with the unsettling.

"Think the rumors were true?" you asked, swallowing hard against the lump of unease in your throat.

The "rumors" were the reason you were standing in this creepy house at dusk. A string of disappearances, whispers of screams echoing in the dead of night, all traced back to this desolate stretch of road. Apparently, there was an urban legend of sorts in the area where a couple would get a flat tire out of nowhere, and with the area being nothing but just a highway and trees, the couple would choose to trek to a nearby house, only for them end up missing right after.

"Why? Are you scared?" A wry smile tugged at the corner of Dean's lips as he teased you. Before you could shoulder-check him for bugging you, he added, "Maybe, maybe not. But sticking together's the best bet we got, wouldn't you say?"

His gaze met yours, and for a fleeting moment, you saw a flicker of something akin to concern beneath the gruff exterior. It was a rare glimpse into the man who carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. Dean Winchester grew up suppressing whatever emotion he had besides his usual cocky demeanor and smirks because he had to raise Sam, his younger brother while hunting whatever it is that crawled out of the depths of hell. And Dean did a damn great job at that, Sam was now off to Stanford.

At that moment, the fear dissipated, replaced by a fierce determination.

"Yeah," you said, your voice firmer than you felt. "Let's get out of here."

He extended his hand, his calloused fingers surprisingly warm against your own. You hesitated for a beat, the implication of the gesture hanging heavy in the air. It was more than just a practical suggestion; it was a silent promise of support, a brief moment of connection you craved with this gruff hunter.

"Can I hold your hand?" you blurted out, surprised by your own boldness.

A flicker of surprise crossed Dean's face, quickly replaced by a ghost of a smile that sent a jolt through you. "Yeah," he said, his voice softer than you were used to hearing. "Yeah, you can."

You laced your fingers through his, the gesture a silent affirmation that went beyond the immediate danger. But for you, it was also a chance for something more, a stolen moment of skinship you yearned for.

As you walked, the wind seemed to whisper secrets around you, the creaking of the dilapidated house a morbid soundtrack. Each creak sent shivers down your spine, but Dean's grip remained steady, a reassuring anchor. You couldn't help but steal glances at him, his profile etched sharply against the dying light. The way his worn jacket barely contained the heat radiating from his body made your cheeks flush.

His hand, usually so quick to let go, lingered in yours. You weren't sure if he noticed the way your thumb brushed against his calloused skin, a silent plea for a little more contact. Maybe it was the adrenaline pumping through your veins, or the way the danger heightened your senses, but Dean felt like a furnace beside you.

Suddenly, a flash of movement in the corner of your eye. A hulking shadow, all wrong angles, and unnatural speed darted behind a boarded-up ticket booth. A guttural growl, unlike anything you'd ever heard, ripped through the air. Your heart hammered against your ribs like a trapped bird.

"Did you see that?" you whispered, your voice barely audible over the wind.

Dean squeezed your hand, a silent acknowledgment, his hold tightening almost imperceptibly. This time, you were certain it wasn't just the danger.

"Stay close," he said, his voice low and gravelly.

He unsheathed his knife, its silver glinting in the fading light. You drew your own weapon, a wave of nausea washing over you. You hated this part, the constant feeling of being on the edge of a knife.

Stepping cautiously forward, you and Dean crept toward the source of the movement. The closer you got, the more the air crackled with an unnatural energy, the scent of decay thick and cloying. As you rounded a corner, the full horror of the creature revealed itself.

Towering over you was a monstrous figure, its once-human form twisted and warped. Its skin, a patchy mix of worminess and sickly shade, hung greasy. Claws, like sharpened daggers, protruded from its elongated fingers. But the most terrifying aspect was its face. A grotesque mockery of a human, its eyes burned with a bloodshot sclera devoid of any humanity.

The Rougarou, a creature born of insatiable hunger and despair, let out a bone-chilling roar, the sound echoing through the abandoned carnival. It lunged a blur of teeth and wormy skin.

The fight was a desperate ballet of survival. Dean, drawing on years of experience, moved with practiced efficiency, dodging the Rougarou's attacks while searching for an opening. You fought with a mix of fear and determination, adrenaline fueling your movements.

The Rougarou swiped at you with a clawed hand, leaving a searing mark across your arm. Pain flared, but you gritted your teeth, refusing to let it slow you down.

Dean created an opening, shouting, "Fire!" You lunged for your pocket, the familiar weight of the lighter a comfort in your hand. Snapping it open, you flicked the wheel, a flame erupting in the dying light. Hurling it with all your might, you aimed for the Rougarou's chest.

It shrieked, a sound that seemed to tear at the fabric of reality itself. The flame erupted on its body, a blossom of searing orange against the decaying flesh. The Rougarou thrashed, its inhuman roar turning into a desperate, pained yowl. It stumbled back, clawing at the burning fur, an unholy stench filling the air.

Fear, raw and primal, flickered in its eyes. But fear was a fleeting emotion for the creature. It roared again, charging at you with a desperate, burning lunge. This time, you were ready. You rolled to the side, the creature's claws missing you by a hair's breadth. Taking advantage of its momentum, Dean drove his silver knife into the Rougarou's back.

The creature howled in pain, clawing wildly. With a final, earth-shaking tremor, it collapsed, dissolving into a cloud of black smoke that dissipated with a sickly sweet stench.

You and Dean stood there, chests heaving, sweat clinging to your skin. The silence that followed was deafening.

"That was..." you started, your voice raspy.

"A Rougarou," Dean finished, his voice grim. "Nasty sons of bitches."

He reached out, checking the wound on your arm. His touch was surprisingly gentle. "You okay?"

You nodded, a weak smile playing on your lips. "Yeah, I'll be fine. Thanks to you."

Dean met your gaze, a flicker of something warm passing between you in the fading light. He didn't say anything, but the way his hand lingered on your arm spoke volumes.

Together, you walked out of the abandoned place, the wind whispering through the trees, no longer sounding ominous but strangely peaceful. The horrors you'd faced had brought you closer, forging a bond forged in danger and shared survival. You knew this wouldn't be your last hunt, but for now, you had each other. And in that knowledge, you found a flicker of hope, a warmth that chased away the lingering chills of the night.

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ MORNING COFFEE, DEAN WINCHESTER

summary. a morning in bed with Dean and coffee as company:)

⭑.ᐟI’ve had this in my drafts forever so it was about time I let it out of the vault. I love this, it’s a very cute one! Please interact and send requests if u have any<3

mention of sex but no smut!

word count. 900

supernatural masterlist

my full masterlist/support my work!

──────────୨ৎ──────────

Your eyes are still closed, but the warmth next to you makes you want to melt into it. You feel Dean stir, trying not to wake you, but he feels you sigh contently, which makes him aware that you already are. Dean’s arm is heavy on your waist, while he lays a small kiss on your shoulder.

‘Morning.’ His voice is hoarse, but his lips linger.

You turn away in his embrace, turning to face him. You’re still half asleep, so your head finds itself into his chest, not wanting to wake up.

‘Morning, handsome.’ You say quietly, only for him to hear.

Dean lays another kiss on your forehead this time, his arms engulfing your figure.

‘Sleep well?’ Dean asks, which he seems to do every morning, because he needs to know that you’re okay. He needs to know that even in your sleep, contents you.

‘Always. I always do when you’re here.’

‘Good thing I’m always here then.’ He smiles sleepily, still holding you.

You stir again, this time looking up at him.

‘You better not go anywhere Winchester.’ Your brows furrow as a warning, though a little smile dances on your lips.

‘I don’t plan on going anywhere, sweetheart.’ Dean doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he presses a kiss on your lips. You don’t want to leg go- and Dean feels it, so he pulls you closer. His hand lays on the back on your neck, pulling you, while the other one lays on your waist at the top of his shirt you stole.

‘Hmm. Coffee first, I’m still half asleep.’ You laugh and break the kiss, while slapping his chest as a message, as to tell him ‘go get me my coffee.’

‘Alright. I got it. Coffee’s more important than me?’ He jokes.

‘Hotter too!’ Dean puts a hand over his heart, acting hurt. He knows you’re joking. Or he thinks.

Dean gets out of bed, but before leaving the room, he makes sure to let his kiss touch yours one more time. He knows he’ll get to kiss you again in a couple minutes- he knows he’ll get to kiss you a million times more- but this makes him feel like he has a good start of the day. The first thing that his lips touch- is yours.

Without that coffee, you feel like Dean is gone for hours. The minutes are ticking, and you pick out a book. You read- or at least try to. But your mind is full of just him. The way his lips felt, his hands, his arms. So you know that the minute that coffee is gonna hit the system, you’ll be all his, at his mercy.

Dean finally comes back with two cups. He sits in bed next to you, handing you your coffee.

‘Thanks darling you’re my savior.’ You kiss his cheek and go back to your book.

The moment the coffee hits your lips, it’s burning love. It’s hot- very hot. But it instantly resets you.

‘So, that coffee still hotter than me?’ Dean observes you waiting for an answer with his brows raised.’

‘You know, I’m still debating that.’ You nod your head and take another sip, but Dean doesn’t accept that.

Dean lunges to you, taking you by surprise.

‘Stop! You’re gonna make me drop that everywhere!’ Your laugh echoes in the room, making Dean smile.

‘I’m not comparing with damn coffee, ya’ hear me? It ain’t happening.’

‘Oh my god.’ You lay your coffee on the bedside table and hide your mouth with a hand, because he’s being ridiculous.

‘You’re insane.’ You finish.

‘I’ll show you insane.’ Dean hovers over you now, his legs on each side of your body.

Your giggles are enough to make him happy for a lifetime. You’re enough.

Dean doesn’t wait, his lips are on your jaw, on your neck, at the hem of the top of his shirt. His hands are on your waist, while he slowly gets it up to your chest.

You get the message and out your arms up so Dean can take your shirt off.

Then he looks at you with so much love. He looks at you like you’re the only good thing left in this world. Like he sees a thousand more mornings just like this, by your side, seeing your smile and hearing your laugh, getting to feel you.

‘You’re so damn beautiful.’ Dean tells you, feeling like a high school boy.

‘I’ve been told that a couple times.’ You try to joke, but your heart is racing. It doesn’t matter how many times this has happened already. He makes you feel like it’s always the first time. He makes you feel like the only girl in the world. The only person he’s ever gonna love, the only person he sees himself loving.

‘Shut up.’ Dean laughs at you and kisses you again. This time, he’s hungry. He’s hungry for you, for your touch. You kiss him back with just as much urgency. You find yourself lying down instead of sitting up, and Dean goes on to make you feel like that coffee is definitely not, hotter than him.

He might just be the hottest thing alive.

Dean’s hotter than lava.

Dean Winchester is hot.

And now you’re the one feeling like a high school girl.

Coffee doesn’t matter. Only Dean does.

[zepskies]

Here are some of my favorites! (A revamp of my old rec list.) They will span Tumblr, Ao3, and FF.net, as I did a lot of my early reading/writing on other platforms.

Keep in mind, I probably like several fics from each of these authors, but I'm featuring one or two that I very much enjoyed.

SUPERNATURAL FIC RECS

[OS] = One-Shot || [S] = Series || [HC] = Headcanon

Dean Winchester x Reader or OFC:

Stories are Dean x Reader unless noted OFC.

✦ Alisha Ashton

Clear the Area - [S | Excellent 4-part series!] This is the story of you and Dean, and how he manages to slip past your defenses. Written so that you can put yourself in the OC's shoes. Sorta set end S8. Slightly AU in the fact that Dean, Sam, Castiel, Kevin, and YOU all live in the MOL Bunker. Everyone is healthy. Cas is still an adorably clueless angel with zero tact.

✦ @luci-in-trenchcoats

Feral [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) Feral is an Alpha’s most dangerous state. Pure raw instinct. A killing machine with no thought. Only an Alpha under extreme duress can submit to their feral side and they rarely can come back out of it. It takes highly specialized rehabilitation to even have a chance at working. When a feral Alpha comes into the reader’s low level rehab facility one night, she knows he’s a dead man walking. But he doesn’t deserve to die and a split second decision to help him escape before that can happen will put them both on the run. He’s no ordinary Alpha though. He’s Dean Winchester. The boy who went missing all those years ago. The boy that made everyone realize no one was safe from the Alpha black market. The man that could destroy them both with one wrong move…

Headcanon: How They Meet Their Plus Size Girlfriend [HC] (Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy, and Russell Shaw included)

✦ @deanbrainrotwritings

Wild Flower [OS] Dean gets hit by a spell when fighting a witch and assumes it was harmless or ineffective. He was wrong, but at least he wasn’t dead. He’s a woman now. 

✦ @waynes-multiverse

Creature of the Night [OS] When her car breaks down on a dark lonely road, she is lucky a handsome stranger takes her in. Grateful, she is willing to do anything to repay his kindness.

Headcanon: Valentine's Day [HC] (Dean Winchester // Soldier Boy // Beau Arlen // Russell Shaw – Edition) How would your favorite men surprise you for Valentine's Day?

Headcanon: Gettin’ Down and Dirty with Dean [HC] Smutty headcanons with Dean...

✦ @rizlowwritessortof

Take a Shot [OS] Let’s face it, his henley looks good on both of you…

Late Night Show [OS] You’re spending a little down time at Bobby’s when HE shows up with his brother. You try to ignore those old feelings for him, but when you accidentally walk in on him pleasuring himself, all bets are off. 

Lost in You [OS] A casual flirtation leads to a violent encounter, and Dean’s reaction is a little more than you expected.

That’s How It Should Be [OS] (Sheriff!Dean x Reader) Sheriff Dean Winchester/Reader have to escape, quick - but Dean won’t let being on horseback stand in the way of showing a lady a good time…

✦ @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

The First Time Series [S] Even though he's a lot older than she is, and more experienced in every possible sense, Y/N finds herself incredibly attracted to Dean Winchester. Amazingly, one day she starts to think that maybe the attraction isn't all one-sided.

The Dangers of Hope [S | Endverse!Dean] 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.

It's All For You [OS] After a hunt gone wrong, all Y/N wants is to make Dean feel better. Will he let her?

Things Learned and Unlearned [S] Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

✦ Lindsey D. Perez

Say I'm Beautiful [OS] You're feeling a little self conscious about your weight so Dean decides to show you how sexy you are. Dean x Reader Warning: negative body image, swearing Rated M for smut so go forth with caution.

✦ @ejlovespie

It Ain't About Pity [OS] (Dean x Plus-Size!Reader) Dean Winchester has eyes for the reader. She has no idea. When he finally figures out why she’s been dieting, he isn’t pleased. 

✦ kittenofdoomage

More to Love [OS] (Alpha!Dean x Plus-Size Omega!Reader) Reader is a hunter, and an Omega, an unusual combination. She’s always been mocked for her size, so she keeps to herself but a case Garth persuades her to take ends up with a confrontation she never saw coming.

Never Spoken, Always Said [OS] He doesn’t say the words much but he shows her every day.

Taste [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) The reader is pregnant with Dean's baby. Spanning the first year or so, we join them as they discover new things about each other.

✦ @impala-dreamer

A Simple Kinda Man [OS] Dean’s a pretty simple man. He likes the things he likes and you can rarely get him to change his mind about it. 

Like Heaven [OS] (Dean x Curvy!Reader) Y/N’s request might throw him off for a second, but he’s never going to deny her, not when it feels so good in her arms…

Take a Break [OS] Laundry can be annoying and overwhelming, so it's important to take breaks now and then...

✦ @justagirlinafandomworld

Remind Me [OS] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) There was no escaping what happened to you. There wasn’t a magical number of days in which you would simply get over it either. It happened and you had to live with it. But your alpha would never leave you to work through it alone.

Delicate [OS] Dean made you feel things no one else ever had. But is it a good idea to see this through?

The Fallout (Alpha!Dean x Beta!Reader) [S] When Sam meets his true Omega, you fear your time with the Winchesters is fated to end. Before they can hurt you, you decide to distance yourself. But Dean isn’t willing to let you get away so easy.

✦ @spnbabe67

Girls, Girls, Girls [OS - Part of a Series] (Dean x OFC) While on a witch hunt Dean gets hit with a spell. Later at the hotel, Dean feels the effects of the spell and Tori has to help him through it.

✦ @chevroletdean

NSFT Alphabet [Dean Winchester] [HC]

Masturbation [Dean Winchester] [HC]

✦ @thatonewriter15

Unspoken [OS] How many reasons are there to love Dean Winchester...?

✦ @iprobablyshipit91

Twenty Minutes or Less [OS] Dean raises an eyebrow at you, cocky smile firmly in place. "I bet I could get you there in twenty minutes or less.”

Magical Blooms [OS] After all, there was a flurry of customers walk through the doors to Magical Blooms each and every day, and quite a number of these were regulars. Just because one of those regulars was an undeniably gorgeous man that flirted shamelessly...

✦ @jawritter

Feral (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) [S] True mates don't exist, at least that's what everyone tells you. It's nothing but a childish, fairytale notion to believe that such a person exists. Someone that is made just for you, your person. Who knew they were so wrong…

✦ @marvelfanfn2187a113

Here For You (Dean x Little Sister!Reader) [OS] You help Dean through a couple different kinds of pain.

✦ @deanwinchesterswitch

The Girlfriend Who Remade Christmas [S] Dean’s holiday spirit is nowhere to be found. Fed up with his Grinch-like behavior, Nicole is determined to open his heart again to the wonders of the world around them and help him find joy in the Christmas season.

✦ @spnexploration

Collared [S] Sam and Dean save a woman from where she has been held as a slave by a witch. But things turn dark whenever they try to take her magic collar off, leaving them with a slave to look after and a curse to break.

✦ @kaleldobrev

Old Man [OS - Part of a Series] Dean never had a problem with the age gap between you two; not until now any way.

✦ @deanwritings

Friends with Benefits [S] After walking in on Y/N following a fun encounter, Dean and Y/N decide it would be beneficial and much easier to use each other for their needs. But can they keep it just about sex?

✦ @waywardxwords

Safe [OS] You had hoped to get in and out when you heard what town the next hunt was in. Unfortunately, you can’t outrun your past. You, also, can’t outrun those old feelings--panic, anxiety and fear. You had hoped you’d never have to share this part of your life with Dean, but things don’t always work out the way we had hoped.

Witches [OS] While hunting a witch, you accidentally stumble upon her collection of sex pollen. 

✦ @acreativelydifferentlove

Carry On [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) You’re an Omega in a small rural town. When your father’s gambling and drinking leaves him with a debt he can’t afford to pay, he offers you to a group of Alphas. Dean Winchester is an Alpha desperately trying to escape his past and pain. Can you save each other?

You're Home [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) After years away at college, you have finally returned to your home town. In order to settle back into the community, you have to seek permission from the Head Alpha. What happens when you see his son for the first time since presenting as an Omega?

✦ @deanwanddamons

Helping Hand [OS] Dean is tired after a hunt, so asks Sammy to drive Baby. You and Dean cuddle up in the back seat.

✦ @mind-empty-just-fictional-people

Love Language [OS] You’ve never said it, neither has he…is that weird?

✦ @pink-sparkly-witch

The Widow [S] Sam and Y/N are happily married, but everything changes after a fatal car accident leaves her a widow. The Winchester motto: “Family Don’t End with Blood,” takes on a whole new meaning for Y/N as she navigates her new normal with the help of her brother-in-law, Dean. But what no one can tell her is what happens when she falls in love again.  

✦ shirleypositive72

While They Dance On A Pin (Jane Series 5) [OS - Part of a Series] (Dean x OFC) Sam, Dean, and Jane have been on the road almost constantly since Dean's return from Hell. They're finding Seals, finding danger, finding out each other's secrets. But it's what they find when they open the door to one more motel room that sends Dean back into his darkest moments. An OC's experience of episode 4x16, On the Head of a Pin.

✦ BeccabooO1O

She's My Cherry Pie [OS] Dean was drunk. So terribly drunk. And it was hilarious. Just some karaoke!Dean (aka the best Dean of them all).

✦ @pamwritessometimes

Roots in My Dreamland [OS] Dean encounters a mysterious forest spirit who’s an enigma.

✦ @supernotnatural2005

Sexual Encounters with Dean Winchester - Edging [OS] Exploring new kinks with Dean. How far can you push him before he breaks?

Happy Accidents [OS] (Dean x Plus-Size!Reader) You haven't seen the Winchester's in over a year, but the case you're working has you scratching your head, and who better to call than some old friends. However, insecurities arise as well as the reprise of a long time crush. Little do you know, it's reciprocated.

Lebanon [OS] A wish gone wrong right brings back a familiar face. However, you all soon discover it's not as simple as it seems when what you’ve all accomplished, and your family, hangs in the balance.

Burning for You [OS] You're pregnant and it's awoken something feral, something instinctual in Dean.

✦ @ambiguous-avery

When He Slides In [OS] And says “Fuck, I missed you.” After a hookup with the (in)famous Dean Winchester, you figured that would be the end of it. Too bad you could never seem to get him out of your mind. People always told you that you got attached too easily. And they were right. You were just another notch in his belt. He couldn’t possibly remember you...

✦ @bettystonewell

To You I Belong [S] (Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader) Dean isn’t looking for a mate. Not only does he think he doesn’t deserve one, but the last place he expects to meet his soulmate is while on a case. Fate ain’t real. He still has free will, and saving you from monsters is just another part of the job.

Another Notch on His Belt [OS] Every little part of him is holding onto every little piece of her, and any other woman he’s been lucky enough to escape his life with. Even if it’s only for the night - or - Dean replaces intimacy with sex.

✦ @lamentationsofalonelypotato

It's Not a Big Deal [S] (Dean x Reader x Soldier Boy/Ben love triangle) Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

✦ @thoughtslikeaminefield

Deep [OS] Dean shows her more about pleasure than ‘deep’.

✦ @cheynovak

Four Men, One Birthday [OS] A birthday gift to me from lovely Cheyenne. 💜 Four birthday themed stories with Dean, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw.

Dean Winchester x Lisa Braeden:

✦ adventuresinposting

Damages [S] Ben is in a car accident causing a fractured skull. Consequentially he remembers Dean. Ben tries to find Dean, who is now a retired hunter after losing Sam in a final battle. This is the story of Dean finding something and someone to replace the hole in his life left by Sam.

✦ FaithDaria

One Step at a Time [OS] The Winchester way of life changes, and Dean adjusts accordingly.

✦ bloodmagik

A Dad By Any Other Name [OS] Ben is sick and Dean stays home with him while Lisa is at work. Lisa learns something about Dean's relationship with Ben.

Sam Winchester x Reader or OFC:

Stories are Sam x Reader unless noted OFC.

✦ Avrilando

While You Were Sleeping - [S] (Sam x OFC) A seriously injured unconscious man is in the hospital Rachel volunteers. With no idea who he is and if anyone is looking for him, Rachel decides to keep him company while he's sleeping. With The Eyes of a Loving Man [S] (Sequel to While You Were Sleeping) Continuing through Sam and Rachel's relationship with all the highs and lows of dating a hunter. Mostly a collection of oneshots and some connecting stories.

✦ Lindsey D. Perez

It's Your Birthday [OS] The Winchester's find out it's your birthday and insist on celebrating with lots of alcohol. Sam introduces you to body shots and things get heated. 

If You Give a Moose a Muffin [OS] ...he'll want kisses to go with it.

✦ ALoversDream

All of Me [OS] (Sam x Plus-Sized!Reader) Request where the reader (even thought she's usually pretty confident) is slightly insecure about her looks, and because she's plus-size. It ends in fluffy weight smut.

✦ BeccabooO1O

Could Have Told You That One, Winchester [OS] Imagine sitting one Sam's lap while you two are researching. She was reading one of the books about mythology for the Winchester's current case when she heard a frustrated groan from across the table. Sam Winchester had his laptop in front of him and various books of lore scattered around it.

✦ @princessmisery666

Samnesia [S] (Sam x OFC) Brooke is a calming distraction from the chaotic mess of Sam’s life. When a hunt keeps them separated for over a month, Sam returns to find she no longer remembers him. The need to find out what happened while he was gone sends Sam on a case that will change the course of his life. What he discovers along the way will change the way he looks at love.

✦ @ohsc

Delicate [OS] Sam being intimate with an inexperienced reader.

**I will keep adding to this list as I read and explore! Please reblog the fics you read and let these amazing authors know what you thought of their work. 💜

I have several more stories favorited on my FF.net account. (Beware if you try to read any of the stories I wrote there though. Some of those are old as hell and not to my current standard. 🤣)

Dean Winchester AU Fic Rec List

Original SPN Fic Rec List

Supernatural Masterlist

Main Masterlist

[bklynsboys]

Operation: Hide Our Relationship (?)

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: “you know,” dean murmured, his voice barely audible over the engine. "you always look so cute trying to deny we're not together." you jumped, startled, your hand instinctively reaching for the door handle. “what?”

genre: fluff

word count: 0.5k

author's notes: wrote a silly little drabble about how i see dean hard launching his relationship! the man is the biggest blabbermouth & he'd definitely be the first to announce that he's dating the love of his life to the most important person in his life (aside from you, of course), his brother. so, sit tight! i hope you'll smile from the the tooth-rotting fluff <3

THE IMPALA HUMMED WITH THE AFTEREFFECTS OF THE HUNT, THE AIR THICK WITH THE METALLIC TANG OF BLOOD AND THE FAINT, ACRID SCENT OF BURNT BONES. Dean slumped in the driver's seat, his eyes closed, his breathing deep and rhythmic, a stark contrast to the chaos you had just escaped. You sat beside him, your hands trembling despite the adrenaline fade. A thin film of sweat clung to your skin, and your heart pounded like a trapped animal. In the backseat, Sam tried to ignore the charged atmosphere, his eyes darting between the rearview mirror and the darkening road.

He’d suspected for a while. The knowing glances, the easy touches, the way their eyes lit up when they spoke – it was like an open secret, obvious to everyone but them. He'd tried to voice his suspicions, but they’d always laughed it off, their denials as practiced as their hunting rituals.

“You know,” Dean murmured, his voice barely audible over the engine. "You always look so cute trying to deny we're not together."

You jumped, startled, your hand instinctively reaching for the door handle. “What?”

“You heard me, sweetheart.” A lazy grin spread across Dean’s face. His green eyes, usually sharp and focused, held a softer glow. "You look adorable when you're all red-faced and in denial that we're together in front of Sammy."

A blush warmed your cheeks, and you could feel the heat rising in your neck. “Shut up, Dean!” You tried to sound indifferent, but your voice cracked, betraying the giddiness within.

There's nothing more than you want aside from screaming at the top of your lungs that finally, you and Dean were together.

"And you," cheeks still pink from your boyfriend's teasing, you turned your head towards his younger brother in the backseat. "Sam Winchester, stop smirking. I know you're finding this really funny."

Sam merely raised his hands in surrender, shaking his head at your accusation. "I didn't say anything."

Dean chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “See? So cute trying to prove my point.”

Sam couldn’t resist a snort. “Really, Dean? Now’s the time?”

Dean feigned offense, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. “A guy can appreciate his own relationship, can’t he?”

You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “You two are impossible.”

Sam grinned, his eyes dancing with mischief. “Just admit it, you’re totally into each other.”

They exchanged a look, a silent agreement to ignore him. But the truth was written in their eyes, in the way they moved in sync, the unspoken understanding that hummed between them like buzz.

“Can we please just go?” you mumbled, your voice muffled by your hands. "I wanna shower. I stink of graveyard dirt and sweat."

Dean nodded, his expression softening. He reached for your hand, his touch grounding. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

Sam sighed dramatically. “I’ll pretend I didn’t see anything.”

As the Impala ate up the road, the tension eased. With Dean's hand in yours, a promise of safety and companionship, you drifted off to sleep, the rhythmic hum of the vehicle and the gentle sway lulling you into a state of quiet.

[gingerteafairy]

woman's duty (ben x reader)

just ben being ben on an average family meeting

tags n warnings: grumpy!ben, drabble, wife!reader x husband!ben, softdom!ben, mentions of sex, bad language, misogyny, breeding kink. masterlist

The sun was shining brightly over your parents' backyard, the scent of barbecue filling the air as laughter and chatter mingled. Ben, ever the charmer, was deep in conversation with your dad—bonding over beer, old sports games, and their mutual grumbles about how “things were better in the old days.” It wasn’t long before he wandered back inside, finding you in the kitchen where you were tossing a salad while your mother busily set the table.

“Hey, sugarplum, when’s lunch gonna be ready? I’m starving,” he grumbled, sliding up behind you and planting a quick kiss on your cheek. His arms wrapped lazily around your waist, pulling you against him.

You smirked, not missing a beat. “When you boys help us with something around here, lunch will magically be ready faster.”

He groaned dramatically, resting his chin on your shoulder. “C'mon, it’s a woman’s duty,” he drawled, biting your shoulder playfully, knowing full well it would get a rise out of you.

You spun around, crossing your arms and glaring up at him. “How does a misogynist like you end up with a wife and kids? Like, really?”

Ben grinned, undeterred, and tugged you back into his embrace despite your mock indignation. “Simple,” he said, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “We only date if it’s worth it. Can’t risk ending up with some ‘new age girl’ who doesn’t know the good'old values. A man raises his voice one decibel these days and—boom! Jail.”

“Good you never raised your voice with me. Maybe you're not that dominant cause you fear your wife, huh?” You teased, raising your eyebrow playfully as you poked his chest.

“Nah, I keep all my care for my lovely scary wife,” he joked, chaste kissing your lips. “But the whores out there? Fuck, they wanna get spanked, shouted and take advantage of the good men of this country. We get the women we know it's worth to raise a family”

“You’re awful,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. He was grumpy, but never did or said something to hurt you, he was a cutie pie around the woman who stole his heart.

“And yet, here I am—your awful husband,” he teased, leaning in to peck your cheek. “Lucky f'me, you’re too kind and forgiving to hold my totally hilarious misogynistic jokes against me.”

“You’re lucky for me having a weird unnatural submission kink,” you shot back, rolling your eyes, though the warmth in your voice betrayed you. “Got all warmed up with you grumpy saying take off your clothes, woman. I'm gonna use you to get more babies.”

“I love you for that, so obedient,” he murmured, grinning as he kissed you again, his grumpiness fading away in the glow of your laughter. “think I wanna make babies now. Down your panties f'me, please, hm?”

“oh, you do?” You tease, biting your lip when he presses his pelvis against you, with his cock already pulsating. Groaning when you wiggled your lower body playfully on his forming tent.

“You’ the death of me, sugar. You and your fucking pretty ass.” He whispered disereful, biting your jaw as he squeezed your ass in his big calloused hands.

Your mother, now halfway through setting the table, cleared her throat loudly. “If you two are done flirting, maybe Ben can help carry the food out?”

“See?” you said smugly, shooting him a triumphant look. “Guess it’s not just a ‘woman’s duty’ after all.”

Ben groaned but grabbed a tray anyway, muttering about how the food better taste amazing. You just laughed, knowing full well he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[sacr1ficialang3l]

The darker the fruit, the sweeter.𖤐

DEAN WINCHESTER X GOTH!READER (meet her)

SUMMARY: The brothers and reader are investigating a new case when they makes a new furry friend. Dean is not a big fan of him at first, but they both soon find out that they are more alike than they expected. 5.3k

WARNINGS: fem!reader. this is all pretty fluffy and cute. finally getting together.

NOTES: goth!reader is back! I genuinely love writing for her so much. I had a more complex plot for this idea but it was way too long as it is. Maybe one day I will expand it and post it in ao3 instead. Let me know if you'd be interested in that! As always, English is not my first language. Enjoy<3

You hated hunts when you didn’t know what you were dealing with, but they were usually also the most “fun”, as fun as hunting monsters that can kill you can get. 

Because yes, vengeful spirits and vamp nests and werewolves were always easy to recognize, and more or less an easy gig. But when the creature was unknown, it was dangerous. Not knowing what you were dealing with could make the difference between life and death, but the research was just so much fun. 

Reading books and articles of lore about creatures all around the world, Sam and you hunched over his laptop for hours talking about Telkhines, or maybe an unicorn? And What the hell is a selkie?

It was like a big game of Clue where you had to put together who, where, and with what. Just that in this game, you could be the next victim, or Sam, or Dean. 

Anyway, the important thing was, you didn’t know how to feel right now. 

People had been disappearing without any explanation, not a trace of them anywhere. There was no connection or similarities between the victims, all different ages and different genders. It had to be your kind of thing, because the people would disappear from their home, usually at night, but there was never any sign of break-in, and it was very improbable that so many people from the same town had just decided to ditch for no reason. 

That is why, after a long day of talking to victims’ families and going over every police report and lore book available, Sam, Dean, and you return to the motel room with exhausted expressions and slumped shoulders.

The night was cold, and you couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and finally get some sleep, your feet aching from the platform boots you refused to stop wearing and your eyeliner smudged after you accidentally rubbed your eyes three hours into researching. 

When you had checked into the motel room that morning, you were told that there was only one room available. This was something that happened every once in a while, and if you had to be honest, it didn’t really bother you. Yes, three grown adults in one shitty motel room was a little cramped, but you had spent so much time alone, it felt nice to be around people, especially people you trusted as much as you trusted the Winchester brothers. This was also why you never minded sharing a bed. It was… warmer, less lonely. 

So every time this happened, you would swap who you share with. 

Sharing a bed with Sam was fine. He was huge and would eventually push you to the edge of the mattress, but it was fine. 

Sharing with Dean, on the other hand, was an ordeal. 

He would usually try to take the couch, except when the motel was shitty enough to not have a couch or for it to be more akin to a huge rock than a comfortable place to lay down. Those times, you forced Dean to sleep in the same bed with you. 

“It’s not big deal, Dean. Come on, stop throwing a tantrum. It is cold, get into bed.”

That would usually do the trick. You would lay awkwardly next to each other, both of you on your back and facing the ceiling. But then, when the only thing around you was the darkness and silence of the night, you would get more comfortable. Turning around in the bed, facing each other, knees brushing or arms touching. You would listen to the other breath, and your eyes would sometimes meet under the barely-there moonlight filtering through the window, both of you frozen, but feeling more at peace than you ever had. One night, when Dean had an especially bad case of insomnia, you ended up running your hand up and down his back until he fell asleep.

But you were friends, of course.

This time it was Dean’s turn to share, and you were equally excited and terrified. 

It all leaves your mind when you find a huge, majestic doberman sitting down in front of your motel room. The sight of the dog immediately makes all exhaustion fly away from your body, but before you can say or do anything, Dean is taking a step towards it.

“Excuse me, dude.” He murmurs, trying to get around the dog. 

The doberman immediately snarls, snapping his sharp teeth towards Dean. You watch as Dean jumps back, and in a reaction that you know is pure instinct from fighting monsters for years, he gets ready to fight. He doesn’t hurt the dog, doesn’t even try to. But his shoulders tighten in that way they do when he is expecting something to jump him, and he is thinking what the best way to knock it down is. 

Before anything else can happen, you grab Dean’s arm and pull him back.

“Don’t.” You command firmly, quickly dropping to your knees in front of the animal, who was still baring his teeth. You ignore Dean’s warning and you simply make yourself small while quickly taking all of the rings in your right hand off, sliding them into your jacket pocket before slowly, very carefully offering your hand to the dog.

Dean says your name urgently again. “I don’t think you should-”

“Shhh.” 

The doberman, who was almost taller than you as you kneeled on the floor, was still baring his teeth and tense, but he wasn’t snarling anymore. You slowly move your hand closer, palm down, and he growls when you get a little too close. Both Sam and Dean call your name this time.

“It’s okay.” You murmur gently, for both the brothers and the dog. “It’s okay, pretty boy. I won’t hurt you, okay?” 

Your sweet, soft voice seems to calm down the animal, and he moves his snout closer, smelling your hand from a distance. He is careful at first, hesitant, but a second later he is knocking the palm of your hand with the top of his head. 

“There you go, see? It’s okay.” You pet the top of his head, movements soft and slow. When the doberman stops baring his teeth, you scoot closer. “You’re not dangerous.You’re just scared, right?”

By now both your hands are petting the dog, cradling his little (or not so little) face, rubbing up and down his neck, scratching behind his ears. 

“See?” You ask again, but this time you do turn to look at Sam and Dean, who are looking down at you in disbelief. “There was no need to fight, he’s a sweetheart.”

“He looked ready to bite my head off.” Dean grumbles, and you are about to retort when the cold nose of the doberman hits your neck and he starts to sniffle you, from the collar of your jacket to the apple of your cheek. He ends up licking your face and it makes you giggle, leaning your face away and turning back to the giant animal.

“He was just scared, weren’t you, boy?” You ask in your best puppy voice. “The world has been cruel to you, and you learned to bite first.” You whisper as you notice how cold the dog was, how there was no collar around his neck, and the long scar across his right eye. Not to mention the fact that his ears and tail were cropped. “But all you need is a little love, isn’t that right? A little kindness and it all melts away.”

The dog’s nose nuzzles against your chest again and you almost melt from the inside out. You keep gently petting him as you turn back to Dean, who was now looking down at you with dark, unreadable eyes. It leaves you breathless for a moment, and you don’t know what even prompted that reaction. 

You open your mouth to say… honestly, you don't even know what you were going to say, but thankfully Sam, who looks like all the exhaustion has also banished from his body and is now smirking, walks past you and opens the door to the motel room.

You quickly get up from the floor, the doberman following your lead. You walk up to the door, both Dean and the dog behind you. 

“Come on in, boy.” You point towards the inside of the room when the dog– you would give him a name, but then you’d get too attached– stopped right before walking into the room.

“No way.” Dean interjects, arms crossed, and frowning. 

“Dean, it is freezing out here. We can’t let him sleep outside.” 

“I refuse to sleep with dog smell all over the room.” He insisted, and was that a pout?

“I’m team ‘he stays’” Sam announces, still grinning, before making his way into the bathroom. 

You cross your arms too, turning to look at Dean with a challenging look on your face.

“That’s two against one. And if I have to choose between you and the doggy, then good luck sleeping in the Impala.” 

You hold Dean’s eyes for a long moment, not faltering for a second. He looks at you in disbelief before he seems to notice that there’s no arguing with you in this one. You were incredibly stubborn sometimes, like when you refused to leave the cemetery that first night you met.

But that was the reason why you were here right now, so maybe you were right about the dog. He would never admit it, though.

He simply sighs in defeat, shoulders dropping, and a pleased grin quickly takes over your face. You do a little jump, and Dean once again feels impressed by how well you move in those high boots. 

“Yes!” You giggle with that sweet smile on your face, your lipstick faded from the long day out but still somehow that smooth wine color that made Dean weak in the knees. “Now come in, pretty boy.”

The dog, who had just been looking up at you during the conversation, seems to finally be convinced to walk inside the motel room. He still turns around to check that you’re walking inside too, sitting right by your side as you take off your jacket and boots.

It was adorable.

It had been a few hours since you had gotten to the motel. Right now, Sam was doing some more research while Dean called up Bobby to see if he could find anything. You had walked to the nearby grocery store to buy some dog food and some plastic containers. You served the food and some water on them when you and the dog returned from the store, since he refused to leave your side. 

You had to be honest, walking alone at night never felt safer with a huge black doberman walking alongside you. For just one second, you could live out your goth princess dreams. 

Now, the pup was eating his food. The poor thing was probably starving out there in the street. You wonder who could have abandoned such a beautiful animal, and leave him to freeze on the street. The dog was friendly enough, sometimes sniffing at Sam’s shoes but hiding behind your legs when he tried to pet him. He was clearly still scared, and you feel a sense of pride fill your chest at the knowledge that the dog decided to trust you.

You change into your pajamas and lay on the bed, groaning as your tense muscles finally relax against the almost comfortable surface of the shitty mattress. You hear the sound of paws hitting the floor and you turn your head to look down the edge of the bed, where the doberman was staring up at you with– there was no other way to describe it than puppy eyes.

You chuckle, and get more comfortable on the bed before patting the spot next to you once, and that was enough for the dog to jump. 

“Oh, come on! I gotta sleep on that bed.” Dean complains, but you ignore it in order to laugh when instead of the big space next to you, the dog decides to climb on top of you, laying his head on your chest and making you groan at the weight on your stomach.

“Seriously, dude?” You ask the dog, who only licks your cheek once and seems to get even heavier. 

You lay there on the bed, a giant puppy on top of you with no way of moving and no heart to push him away. 

You hear Sam laugh and you try to look at the brothers past the big fur ball resting right in front of your face. You catch sight of the younger one’s smirk and Dean’s unimpressed face. He looked almost offended, and it was hilarious. You laugh, and it causes the doberman to tilt his head and look at you curiously. Your heart aches, and you remind yourself not to get attached.

You sigh, starting to pet the dog gently. You distantly hear Sam and Dean chat and bicker about something, but you focus on the puppy on your chest. You scratch behind his ears and boop his nose with yours, murmuring sweet nothings under your breath. 

Humans were complicated. You had realized from a young age that not many people felt as much as you did, not everyone had so many emotions that they threatened to spill out every time they opened their mouth. Your heart was too big for your body, your mother used to say when you were a kid. But she didn’t say it as a good thing, because it made you too vulnerable, too weak, too much like her. So when you were confronted with the cruelty of this world, when you discovered how awful people could be, you learned to keep that part of yourself hidden, locked away in a little box on your chest that only opened up when you were writing poetry or when it was time for your monthly crying session. 

Or when you were in the presence of animals. Animals were pure creatures, sweet and loving and unjudging. When you found a stray cat in a cemetery, or when you encountered some critter while foraging, or when little moths landed next to you in the abandoned house you used to spend your time in, that little box opened up and you let all the words stuck in the back of your throat come out. Because animals were the only creatures that deserved them. Or that’s what you thought, until some green-eyed hunter, who at first looked at you with the same seemingly angry but actually scared eyes as the doberman had, had made his way into your heart and was now threatening to break the lock that kept the box closed.

You brush your thumb over the long scar across the dog’s eye. It is healed, but it also looks recent. 

“You’re so beautiful.” You murmur to the pup, giggling when he pushes his head up into your hand for more ear scratches.

“Aw, thank you.” Dean places a hand on his chest, as if he was actually touched by the compliment. He was now standing on the side of the bed, looking down at you with a teasing grin. But there was something in his eyes, an edge that you couldn’t recognize. “I knew you wouldn’t resist my charms.”

You laugh at that, shaking your head. Noticing that your attention wasn’t on him anymore, the doberman turns his head towards Dean, and he snarls again. 

“Hey, nuh-uh.” You scold the pup firmly, tapping his snout softly twice. It stops the snarling, but the dog is still baring his teeth. “Dean is a friend, okay? He is amiable, even if he doesn’t look like it.” You can’t help but tease Dean, making him roll his eyes.

The doberman’s eyes stay wearily on Dean, but he doesn’t make a move to attack. You try to sit up on the bed, but the dog seems to somehow push you down into the mattress. You laugh, accepting your fate and extending your hand towards Dean instead.

“Give me your hand.” Dean looks at you with wide eyes for a second, but then he places his hand on yours. You ignore the feeling of his rough skin on yours, how warm he is in comparison with how cold you always are, how his silver ring feels against your palm, how much you wanted to intertwine your fingers with his. 

Instead, you move both your hands closer to the dog’s nose, slowly.

“If the mutt bites me, I’m gonna kill you.” Dean warns, but he sounds a little out of breath. 

The pup lets out a low growl, and you move your other hand to scratch behind his ear. 

“It’s okay, I promise. He’s a friend.” Your reassuring tone seems to calm him down a bit, and he slowly leans in to sniff at your joined hands. You slowly move your hand until it is holding Dean’s wrist instead of his palm, letting the dog smell only Dean. He apparently deems the human acceptable, because he stops baring his teeth and leans the tiniest bit forward. You guide Dean’s hand to the top of the doberman’s head, letting it rest there softly for the hunter to pet him. “See, puppy?” you whisper towards the dog, but your eyes move up to meet Dean’s. “He may be a little rough around the edges, but he’s actually harmless.”

That makes Dean snort, eyes darting down to the dog still laying on your chest while he scratches his head, and you think his cheeks flush a little. 

“There are several creatures, both human and non-human, that might disagree with that.” He jokes, but his voice is softer and low. It is your time to snort.

“Well, I was never known for agreeing with the general public.” Dean meets your eyes again, and something passes in between you two. Your breath hitches at the rawness in his gaze, and then your fingers bump where you were both petting the dog. “I always had a soft spot for what others consider scary.”

A long moment of silence, your fingers brush against his again, Dean opens his mouth.

And then the doberman is licking your cheek and almost all the way up to your forehead. You let out a surprised shriek and you turn your face further to the side, laughing and trying to get away from the dog’s wet kisses.

“Hey! Stop, boy. Sto– ah!” You are trying to push the pup off of you, but there is no way of pushing him away. You try to turn his face away with your hand but instead he gives you a little bite. 

It is playful, a barely-there nip with his front teeth. You look at him with an offended look in your eyes, and you can almost swear the pup is grinning. Dean starts laughing at the scene, and you pout, turning to Sam for help. The younger Winchester is useless, simply giving you a shrug and going back to his research. You stare at the ceiling and start to question your life choices.

“How did I end up trapped in a motel room with three insufferable boys?”

Dean ends up not letting the dog sleep in the bed. You somehow manage to move him from on top of you and lay down a couple of blankets and some of your clothes on the floor next to the bed for the pup to sleep in. 

It was late into the night already, and you were half asleep already, lulled by Dean’s warmth. Because you gave one of the blankets to the doberman, now Dean and you had to share the other one. He complains about it for like an hour, and you had to admit the night was cold enough for one blanket to not be enough. But once you threaten him with letting the dog on the bed and sending him to the floor, Dean accepts sharing the blanket.

It turned out to be as much of a bad idea as it was a good one. Not only did it force you to be even closer to each other to fit in, but it also gave place for a lot more physical contact. Now when your knee brushes his thigh, it is skin on skin instead of over the covers, when his fingers brush your lower back, it is right where your Type O Negative shirt has lifted up. It was a magical kind of torture. 

At some point when you are more asleep than awake, you feel a new weight on the mattress. You are too tired to even register what it is or what it could mean. You just scoot to the side, giving the creature more space and pressing closer to the figure next to you. You would think that by this point, your hunter’s instincts would be more developed, but you weren’t very smart when you were sleepy. 

You quickly fall back into unconsciousness completely when the heat radiating from both your sides now envelopes you. You were cold almost all the time. Even in the summer, somehow your hands managed to find a way to stay icy. On low temperature nights like this, it was worse. You didn’t mind it, you enjoyed the cold, but the boys constantly complained when you touched them with your freezing hands. But right now, with two extra-hot bodies pressed against either side of you, you sleep through the night like you haven't in years.

The next time you wake up, it takes you a few seconds to understand where you are. The bed feels smaller than it did when you went to sleep, and there is a new weight on your waist. It isn’t until you hear two different snores that you finally open your eyes, confused. In front of you, curled up in the little nook created by your torso and bended knees, is the doberman sleeping peacefully. He somehow got into the bed at some point in the night, you register, and now he is taking up half of the bed. One of the snores is coming from him, but the other one comes from behind you, as well as the pressure on your middle.

A little panicked, you turn your head around slowly. As you feared, Dean has an arm around you, his chest pressed against your back. He too was fast asleep, mouth slightly open and his grip on you firm. You turn to look at the other bed, but you find it empty. Sam had probably gone out for his morning run, and you let yourself panic for a second. 

The little grunt that Dean lets out when you try to move and the way his arm tightens on your waist make you feel a little dizzy. You slowly, very slowly, slide down the bed. It is a miracle that Dean doesn't wake up, he must be really exhausted for his instincts not to alert him of the movement. The puppy also stays asleep, and you quietly scurry to the bathroom. You wash your face with cold water when you notice how flushed your cheeks are. You aren’t a high schooler, you can handle a little cuddling with a close friend.

But Dean was more than that, wasn’t him?

You brush your teeth, cursing yourself for forgetting to bring a clean set of clothes so you could shower. You mentally prepare to walk outside for them, repeating to yourself that Dean was asleep the whole time, he probably didn’t even notice what happened. It was fine, you were fine. 

(It had been years since someone had held you like that, it wasn’t fine.)

You step out of the bathroom in the hope that Dean would still be asleep, but you’re not that lucky. Instead, you are met with two sleepy boys staring at you from the bed. Both the doberman and Dean were now sitting on the mattress, Dean with messy hair and half-lidded eyes, the dog with a strikingly similar drowsy demeanor. They turn to you when they hear the sound of the bathroom door opening, and at the exact same time, they tilt their heads to the side in confusion. 

You stand there, staring at the big bad dog and big bad hunter in front of you, who are now soft and sleepy and pouty (at least Dean was) while they stare back with questioning looks. Almost as if wondering why’d you leave the bed, but that was probably wishful thinking. Like this, the resemblance between them was uncanny. 

“Good morning?” You ask tentatively when Dean doesn’t say anything.

The pup seems to finally snap out of it at the sound of your voice, and he jumps off the bed to say hi to you. He wags his tail and presses his head to your hand until you give him a good deal of head scratches before he is moving to where the food and water bowls are on the floor. 

You turn to Dean after that, and he looks a little more awake at least. His eyes are squinting and his eyebrows are furrowed, as if he is trying to remember something.

“Did the dog sleep with us in the bed?” You ignore the way his voice was even deeper after waking up.

You giggle, nodding. “Yeah, he got up at some point in the night. I don’t know how we managed to all fit.”

Dean chuckles at that while he rubs a hand over his face, and you beg that he doesn’t remember anything else. 

“Did he sleep next to me? I swear I could feel something pressing against me through the night, but then I woke up and he was laying down pretty far away from me.”

That makes you freeze for a second, but you just shake your head nonchalantly.

“Nah, he slept right when you found him all night. Maybe it was a Succubus” You joke casually while you move to grab a clean set of clothes. You had never been happier to see Sam than when he walks into the motel room right at that moment. Your eyes meet for a second, and you take in his post-running state at the same time he notices the clothes and the toiletry bag in your arms before the two of you both rush towards the bathroom.

“Not fair! I am all gross and sweaty.” Sam complains when you get there first.

You giggle, closing and locking the door behind you without saying anything.

“I could swear I was hugging something.”

You had finally solved the case two days later. As it turned out, the creature that was kidnapping people in town was a skinwalker. The reason why you hadn’t figured it out yet is because this one, instead of feeding on people’s hearts and leaving the bodies there for you to find, was actually dragging people from their homes and “storing” them in some abandoned house outside of town. You are able to discover all of this because your new friend, as you discovered that same day, was actually the pet of one of the people kidnapped. The scar over his eye had been made by the skinwalker the night it attacked his owner, and the puppy was able to track the scent of it once Sam, Dean, and you had found some fur in the house of one of the victims. 

Once you entered the abandoned house, you had found most of the victims still alive, all tied up in chains and waiting to have their hearts eaten out. Apparently, as the skinwalker told you and the brothers in his best attempt at a villain monologue, he had been exiled from his pack and forced to become an outcast. Having lived all his life in a pack, he could barely fend for himself alone. He had gone hungry, almost starving to death. That was why now, in an almost feral state, he was making sure to have enough food stashed. 

As weird as this was, it was good news. You were able to kill the skinwalker and free all of the survivors. It was always nice when you were able to save more people than you had expected. In between the freed people there was the doberman’s owner– some guy in his forties with long, wavy black hair and a whole tattoo sleeve. Yeah, it fits. You watch as the guy and the dog meet again, how it was so clear that they loved each other, and even if you’re happy for them, you can’t help the way your heart aches at the knowledge that you would have to say goodbye to the pup.

The doberman runs towards you after he finishes saying hello to his owner, and Sam quickly explains to the guy the dog’s stay with you while you kneel in front of the doberman and whisper your farewell. The puppy licks your cheek again and it almost makes your eyes water. The owner thanks you for taking care of Billie Joe –of course the dude named the dog after Green Day– and they both leave.

You stare at their figures as they walk away in silence for a moment, not being able to help the pout that forms in your face. Sam goes to talk with some more of the surviving victims, while Dean stays by your side. 

“You know, maybe dogs aren’t that bad. Even if that one could barely stand me.”

You chuckle softly, It’s subtle –Dean wouldn’t make it obvious– but you know he’s trying to lift your spirits. You shake your head, turning to look into his eyes. 

It always shocked you how beautiful Dean could look even after a hunt, when he was covered in dirt and all bloody.

Then again, you always had a thing for hot guys covered in blood.

“I think you two were just too much alike.” You tease, bumping his shoulder with yours. 

He laughs, but it’s softer than usual– quieter, less guarded. His usual edge is missing, replaced by something warmer, more open.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, looking at the ground before his gaze returns to you, taking in the way your smudged eyeliner made your eyes pop out, the way your black hair looked almost blue under the street lights, how gentle your smile was even with your sharp teeth and spiky jewelry. “You seemed to like him, though. A lot.”

A long silence follows the comment as you two stare at each other. The tension, simmering under the surface for weeks now, threatens to boil over. The memory of Dean’s arm around you while sleeping comes back to your mind, and you decide that if there was anyone you could trust with the key to the box in your chest, it was him.

“Yeah, I did.” You admit, barely louder than a whisper. “I never could resist a good train wreck.”

The next thing you register is the feeling of Dean’s lips over yours, and for a moment you wonder if this is why poets write. Because the sensations that travel all through your body as you wrap your arms around Dean’s neck and his hands wrap around your waist, the taste of his tongue, and the smell that clings to him are all so otherworldly and hauntingly magical that you feel compelled to delve into the entire English language to find the perfect words to describe it, but you just know that nothing will ever be able to convey what it was like to be held in Dean Winchester’s arms.

“Does this mean I can convince you of adopting a dog now?”

“Don’t even think about it.”

“What about a cat?”

“No. And there is no amount of kissing that can change my mind.”

“What about a raven? Or a spider!”

“God, what did I get myself into.”

NOTES: I am not completely satisfied with this so I might revisit it some day. Still, I hope you enjoyed it.

TAGS: @littlesoulshine @mostlymarvelgirl @pink-ghost666 @h8aaz @otteropera<3

If you wanna be tagged in future works, let me know!!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Sept 2024 Fic Recs

Here's the list of all the recs I've gotten so far!

Soldier Boy x Supe!reader:

You Call It Maddness, I Call it Love - @lamentationsofalonelypotato

Take A Chance On Me - @lamentationsofalonelypotato

Lost On You - @zepskies

Soldier Boy x reader

A Well Made Mistake - @thoughtslikeaminefield - Soldier Boy x female reader

Old Habits - @wayward-and-worn - Soldier Boy / Female Reader

His Only Exception - @lila-lou

No Love Lost - @godmadeaterribleerror

Soldier Boy x reader Masterlist - @syrma-sensei

Frequency - @previousloversandmuses

Soldier Boy Masterlist - @wayward-dreamer

Soldier Boy Masterlist - @deanbrainrotwritings

Russell Shaw x OC:

Waiting for the Real Thing - @rizlowwritessortof

Russell Shaw x reader:

Off Limits - @thebiggerbear

Don't Mention It - @impala-dreamer - Russell Shaw x GN!Reader

Spicy Things - @homicidal-slvt

Colter Shaw x reader

Off Limits - @marvelwitchergilmore

Endverse!Dean x Reader:

The Dangers of Hope - @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior

Nothing Left to Say - @kittenofdoomage

On the Outside - @justagirlinafandomworld

The Fear That Remains - @stusbunker

Whumpy Dean x Reader:

If The Bunker Had Windows - @katehuntington

[aylacavebear]

Bloodlines & Fate Chapter 1

Being Touched should have been a blessing—a mark of honor in your lineage, celebrated by your pack since childhood. But to you, it's always made you feel like an outsider, never really fitting in anywhere. Yeah, you had your best friend Jess, but for you, something always felt like it was missing. The land your pack runs on during the full moons brings you a sense of peace you don't fully understand, at first.

Paring: Alpha!Dean x Omega!Reader/You

Word Count: 4356

Warning: Angst, longing. Not much that I can think of.

A/N: So, a couple characters in this one I pulled from a couple other shows. Professor Rober Zimmerman is based off of The Doctor from Star Trek Voyager as I absolutely love that character. And, Professor Alaric Saltzman from The Vampire Diaries. Another loved character.

A/N: It's my first attempt with an A/B/O fic, be gentle please. I hope you like it. Not sure how many chapters this will be yet.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 1

“God, Mom,” you muttered as she twisted your hair into a neat braid, her hands working with practiced ease. “I’m so done with this. It’s been six months since I presented, and it’s been non-stop alphas and their parents since. I can’t keep doing this—I need a break.”

“Sweetie, I know,” your mom said, her voice soothing but worn. “You’ve been so patient. Just one more week, and you’ll get the break you deserve. Everyone knows you need it.”

Her words were meant to calm you, but they only added to your irritation. How could anything think this was sustainable? At first, the idea of meeting your soulmate had filled you with cautious excitement. But after two solid months of awkward introductions, forced smiles, and watching alpha after alpha recoil at your scent, the novelty had worn off. Now, it was exhausting, and even your schoolwork had started to slip.

That thought made something click. Narrowing your eyes, you turned toward her. “Wait a minute. This is about my grades, isn’t it? My tutor said something to you, didn’t he?” 

Your mom froze for a moment before letting out a long sigh, her hands falling to her sides. “Yes,” she admitted, her tone tinged with guilt. “He told us your grades were slipping, and we all agreed you needed time to reset. The pack is just trying to help you, honey. No one wants you to feel like this any longer than you have to.” You inhaled deeply, holding back a biting retort. She wasn’t wrong—your pack always looked out for one another. You’d seen firsthand what it was like for wolves who had to wait too long to find their soulmates. Your cousins were living proof. Twins, like their mates, they hadn’t met them until their late twenties. You remembered the strain it put on them, how restless and incomplete they’d been until fate finally stepped in.

Still, the constant parade of alphas was suffocating. “Fine,” you said, standing up and crossing to the mirror. Your reflection stared back at you, the simple purple dress draping neatly over your frame. The lace trim along the hemline was delicate, almost fragile, like the image your pack was so determined to project for you.

“Let’s just get this over with,” you muttered. It was an image that felt like a lie, but you kept that to yourself.

Your mother gave you a sympathetic smile but didn’t press further. She followed as you left your room, descending to the living room where the introductions would take place.

Three of your cousins—tall, broad-shouldered alphas—and two of your uncles stood like sentinels behind the couch, their imposing figures a silent warning to anyone who thought about stepping out of line. You took your place in the middle of the sofa, your mother at your side while your father greeted the family at the door. 

The young alpha they brought barely crossed the threshold before his nose wrinkled in disgust. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing as he stumbled back, mumbling an excuse before retreating with his parents.

The next four families fared no better. Each time, the alphas visibly recoiled at your scent, their discomfort impossible to hide. Your pack had long since grown used to it, but outsiders couldn’t seem to stomach it. By the time the last family left, you were seething.

You stormed upstairs, yanking the dress off and tossing it into the back of your closet without a second thought. Pulling on jeans, a tank top, and sneakers, you slipped out the back door, desperate for air and solitude.

All you wanted to do was go to the land and hide in that cabin where you always sat to watch the full moon. Somehow, it brought you comfort, and for some reason, you didn’t feel so lonely. Since that wasn’t an option, the area behind your home of dense forest would have to suffice. 

Your cousins followed at a respectful distance, knowing better than to crowd you when you were like this. Wolves were social, drawn to comfort and connection. You, however, were different. Your feline instincts demanded solitude, and when cornered, you lashed out. You’d done it before, unintentionally, but the lesson had stuck.

The late summer air was warm, but the forest canopy above offered shade, the dappled sunlight creating patterns on the soft earth beneath your feet. The songs of birds filled the silence, soothing your frayed nerves.

Flexing your hands, you extended your claws, the sharp tips glinting faintly in the light. With a quick leap, you scaled the nearest tree, your claws finding purchase in the bark. You pushed higher, moving from branch to branch until you were far above the ground, where no wolf could follow.

Settling into a comfortable nook, you leaned against the trunk, finally allowing yourself to exhale. Up here, surrounded by the rustle of leaves and the distant hum of life below, the tension in your chest eased. It wasn’t where you wanted to be, but it would suffice, for now.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, painting the horizon in hues of gold and amber, you stayed in your perch, watching until the last traces of daylight faded. Only then did you climb down, your heart heavy with the knowledge that tomorrow would bring more of the same.

—--------------

That entire week felt like a waking nightmare, even though the alphas’ and their parents’ faces provided fleeting amusement. You’d learned to find humor in their disgusted expressions—it was easier than giving in to the ache threatening to break you. Tears would only worry the pack, and you’d do anything to avoid that. But no matter how much you masked it, your parents could sense the strain in your scent. That’s why they’d agreed to spread out the meetings, though it didn’t erase the sheer volume of introductions still looming over you.

By the end of that week, you were ready to tear your hair out. The blue dress you’d worn was discarded onto the closet floor, forgotten as you flung open drawers and started packing for the cabin. “Sweetie,” your mother’s voice came softly from the doorway, her worry laced with the gentle tone she reserved just for you. “We can smell how frustrated you are, even downstairs. Is there anything we can do to help?”

Her concern made your throat tighten, but you swallowed it down, shoving a pair of sneakers into your bag. “I just… I need to go to the cabin. I always feel better there. I don’t know why, but I do.”

She nodded, not pressing further, and slipped away to give you space. Alone again, you exhaled shakily, willing yourself to calm down. It wasn’t the pack’s fault—not really—and you hated the idea of burdening them more than you already had. When you finally descended the stairs, your emotions were tethered just tightly enough to avoid questions. “I’m ready,” you said simply.

Your cousins and uncles flanked you in a protective semi-circle, the weight of their presence both reassuring and stifling. Outside, they divided into two vehicles for the drive to the land. It was quiet, save for the rhythmic hum of the road beneath the tires, and you found yourself counting the minutes until you’d be alone again.

The land’s familiar sights greeted you like an old friend as the cabin came into view, nestled among the trees. A few families lived here year-round, tending to things between full moons, but for the next two days, the cabin owned by your parents was yours alone. They wouldn’t arrive until the full moon itself, and you couldn’t be more grateful.

After exchanging farewells with your uncles and cousins, you stepped into the cabin, the air inside cool and still. For the first time in what felt like weeks, you let out a long, unguarded sigh. Finally, some breathing room. The tension in your chest began to unravel, bit by bit. No alphas, no schoolwork, no forced smiles, and mostly no responsibilities for a full five days, six if you were lucky. 

As you unpacked, your mind wandered back to when you were twelve, when your parents finally explained just how different you were. It was late afternoon after school, the golden sunlight slanting through your bedroom window as you hunched over your desk, pencil tapping rhythmically against the math assignment your tutor had left you. The work was dull, the equations uninspired. You were eager to finish and move on to the bonus problems—challenges that always seemed to hold your attention far better than the standard curriculum.“Sweetie,” your mother’s voice came softly from the doorway, interrupting your focus. “Your father and I need to talk to you.”

Without glancing up, you murmured, “I’ll be down in a sec.”

You finished the equation you were working on before making your way downstairs, feeling the weight of something unspoken settle over you as you descended. The air in the living room felt heavier than usual, and as you rounded the corner, you found your parents seated on the couch, their hands clasped tightly together. You hesitated before taking a seat across from them in one of the recliners.

They exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them. Their expressions were a mix of joy and apprehension, a strange duality that only made your chest tighten with unease.

Your mother was the first to speak, her voice trembling slightly. “You have a genetic mutation,” she began, her eyes searching yours for a reaction. “You’ve learned about it in your studies, but… there are things we need to explain. Once you present omega, you won’t be able to shift during the full moon.” Her words were gentle, but you could see the tears she was trying to keep from falling.

The words landed heavily, but she pressed on, her tone gentle. “We know that’s going to be hard for you, but you’ll always be on the land during full moons, and we’re hoping that will help.” Her voice wavered as she tried to keep her emotions in check.

Your father leaned forward, his voice steadier but tinged with an unspoken sadness. “The pack will be there for you, always. Having the Touched mutation is rare—rare and special. After your soulmate finds you and you have pups, they’ll be immune to many illnesses and disorders. That’s something no one will know until they’re tested.”

Some of this wasn’t new to you. You’d pieced together bits and pieces over the years, but the mention of immunity caught your attention. Curiosity flared, and you made a mental note to ask your tutor about it during your next lesson. 

“That’s kinda neat,” you admitted, your tone cautious. “But… why does it seem like there’s a bad side to all this?” 

Your parents exchanged another look, heavier this time, before your father sighed. “Your scent,” he began carefully, “will be unpleasant to others. The only one who will find it pleasing will be your soulmate. Once you present, we’ll set up meetings with alphas and their families. Until your soulmate comes, that’s the best we can do. But After he claims you with his mark, everything will change. You’ll be able to smell the scents of others and their emotions in their scent. You’ll be able to shift during the full moon, and…” your father trailed off at the end, like it was something he didn’t fully want to discuss.

You looked at him, a little puzzled, and tilted your head in curiosity, but your mother chuckled and continued. “You’ll have your first heat, like a normal omega.”

Your eyes went wide, but you giggled. To him, you were still his little girl and he didn’t want you to have to grow up too fast. “I think I’ll be okay. I have Jess and my whole pack.”

The sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in fiery hues as you leaned against the cabin window, exhaling slowly. God, I was so naive back then. It had only been two and a half years, but it felt like a lifetime.

You still hadn’t figured out why being on the land soothed something deep inside you. At first, you’d blamed it on nature, then on the full moon itself, but neither explanation ever quite fit. You’d been here before, between moon cycles, and it hadn’t felt the same. And that one month you hadn’t been on the land for the full moon? Watching from your bedroom window hadn’t brought that same comfort, either. It was a puzzle you were determined to solve.

There was one rule that only applied to you: Stay inside at night. No one had ever explained why. You’d justified it in your own way—telling yourself that your pack didn’t want you to feel left out, that they wanted to protect you from the pain of what you couldn’t have. It had been an easy enough excuse to follow.

Two days later, your parents arrived, along with nearly ten other families. The land was alive with movement and laughter as everyone settled in. You’d helped prepare for the feast the night before, making sure there was plenty of food to fuel the wolves through their shift. These gatherings were some of your happiest moments—when the pack came together like this, when the air buzzed with excitement and belonging.

As the sun set, the pack split off into their groups. Bonded pairs disappeared into the trees. Young, unbonded alphas followed their mentors in another direction. Unbonded omegas went with two haunted pairs to run together, singing to the moon, playing in the forest. Their voices carried through the air, weaving into the night like an ancient melody.

You lingered inside, curling up in the window seat, watching the moon rise. Soon, the howls began—a symphony of voices, familiar and reassuring. But as you listened, a sharp ache settled in your chest. This was why you endured the meeting with the alphas and their parents. This was why you played along with your family’s plans. Only your soulmate could wake your wolf, could bring her to the surface, and make you whole.

But tonight felt… different. 

The pull had always been there—this urge to step outside, to belong—but it had never been this strong. A shiver ran down your spine, and before you realized it, you were standing at the cabin door, fingers curled around the handle. You swallowed hard, breath uneven. The logical part of you screamed to step back. But curiosity had always been your downfall.

The warm night air of summer softly kissed your skin as you closed your eyes and breathed deeply the scents of earth and pine. Being outside felt freeing, far more than just being on the land itself. Then, something stirred. Not around you—inside you. It wasn’t a voice, not quite. More like an instinct, an awareness humming beneath your skin.

Your feet moved before you could second-guess yourself. You knew where your pack was, could feel their presence even from here. And yet, you walked in the opposite direction, toward the trees.

When you finally stopped, moonlight filtered through the canopy, dappling the ground in silver. It was quiet—only the rustling of leaves and distant sounds of nocturnal creatures filled the space.

A warmth washed over you as that gentle stirring inside you grew strong. Closing your eyes, you tilted your head back and let out a soft, wavering howl. 

It felt right. Natural

It was a song of loneliness, of longing to belong, of love for your pack. Of the ache that came with not being able to be like them. As your voice faded into the night, a tear slid down your cheek, and you brushed it away with a shaky breath.

Then, another sound.

Your body went rigid. A howl—low and resonant, answering yours from somewhere beyond the fence line. Goosebumps erupted across your skin. It was an alpha. Young. Close.

Fear slithered up your spine. The land was enclosed, meant to keep outsiders away, yet the sound sent a warning thrumming in your bones. Shit, my parents are gonna kill me. You turned on your heel and hurried back to the cabin, heart hammering. The second the door clicked shut, you locked it.

The next two nights, you fought that pull. It was a battle that left your body tense, your chest aching in ways you hadn’t expected. On the third night, you gave in—going back to that spot, one last song to the moon before knowing you’d be going home soon. 

And again, he answered.

Both times, after your song faded into the night, the alpha howled in return.

You didn’t tell your parents. Didn’t tell your pack. If they knew you weren’t following their one rule, you worried they might forbid you from coming to the land at all. There was only one person you could trust with this secret. Jess. Even if she was younger, even if she might not understand completely—she was your best friend. And right now, you needed her more than ever.

Midway through the week, you had Jess over after she’d gotten out of school, desperately needing to tell someone. However, the moment you finished sharing what had happened, you wished you had perhaps kept some of the details to yourself.

Jess practically vibrated with excitement. “Wait. WAIT. So you just stood there, all alone in the dark, and howled? And then he howled back?!”

You nodded.

She clutched her chest. “That is the coolest thing I have ever heard!”

You blinked. “Really?” “Yes! It’s like—like one of those epic adventure stories! Like, you’re this lost princess with a secret power, and he’s the mysterious stranger who—” She stopped mid-sentence, wrinkling her nose. “Ew, wait, no, never mind. That sounds romantic. Gross.” You snickered.

“But still!” Jess leaned in, practically bounding. “What if he’s part of, like, some secret rival pack? Or an exiled prince? Or—ooh!—what if he’s some ancient spirit haunting the land?!”

You raised an eyebrow. “You read way too many books.” “And you don’t read enough!” Jess grinned. “Okay, so what’s the plan? Are we investigating? Do you think he’ll howl next full moon? Are you gonna howl back?!”

You hesitated.

Jess’s grin faded. “Wait… you are gonna howl back, right?” You swallowed hard. “I don’t know yet.” Jess scoffed. “Well, I know. Next time, I’m coming with you.”

You stared at her. “You can’t. You know you aren’t allowed on the land till you present.” Jess pouted. “So? I’ll sneak in your suitcase.” You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Oh my god.” Jess cackled. “This is gonna be awesome.” It wasn’t until a week later, during one of your lessons, that you decided to ask your tutor some questions. You’d spent days carefully figuring out how to word them—how to ask without giving away too much. The last thing you needed was for your tutor to tell your parents.

“So… about Touched,” you began, keeping your tone casual as you pretended to focus on the notes in front of you. “I know they can’t shift during the full moon, and then there’s all that scientific stuff about their genetics, but… is there anything about singing to the moon? Or being able to feel their wolf? Oh—could any of the ones before ever feel, like, a pull toward something?”

The words tumbled out faster than you intended, and when you finally looked up, Professor Robert Zimmerman was watching you with a measured expression.

He exhaled slowly through his nose, then closed the book he’d been teaching from. “There are a few things that have been documented,” he admitted. “I can ask about getting a copy of those records if you’d like to learn more about your mutation,” His voice carried that familiar, steady patience—the kind that always made you feel safe about asking questions, no matter how strange they were.

Excitement flared in your chest. “Please?”

His mouth twitched into one of those small, rare smiles. “I’ll have those for you by Monday. I promise.”

You grinned, barely containing your anticipation as he shifted the lesson back to history. But no matter how hard you tried, your mind kept drifting—Monday suddenly felt like a lifetime away.

Monday couldn’t get there fast enough for you, and it felt like you were crawling the walls, even when you’d go outside and try to distract yourself. The appointments with meeting alphas had finally dwindled to only after school and only three times a week, with only two families showing up on those days. It helped, but you weren’t getting your hopes up anymore. Most of your pack found their soulmate anywhere from the time they presented up until they were in their mid-twenties. So, you had time and decided not to stress over it anymore. Jess did her best to keep you distracted, filling your afternoons with stories from her school—complaints about teachers, dramatic playground politics, and, most importantly, just how disgusting boys were. That always made you laugh, and part of you missed not getting to experience it with her. Although, you knew you’d miss Professor Zimmerman and all the fun things he gave you to learn. 

By Sunday night, the anticipation was unbearable. You buzzed through your nightly chores, barely able to keep still. So much so that both your parents noticed and debated asking about it when you hugged them goodnight. When you finally crawled into bed, you stared at the ceiling, your mind racing. I seriously need to get some sleep. The thought felt like it was on repeat in your head for hours before the depths of sleep found you.

When the doorbell rang at 8:30 the following morning, you dashed toward it, no longer able to keep your excitement contained. Your smile faded to one of confusion and curiosity when you saw an alpha standing next to Professor Zimmerman, tilting your head slightly. “Y/N, this is Professor Alaric Saltzman. He keeps the records you asked me about and he refused to let them out of his sight. So, he’s here to supervise you while you go through them,” Professor Zimmerman explained.

Professor Saltzman chuckled at your expression, but it was clear that your scent bothered him. “We can do it outside, so my scent doesn’t bother you,” you offered, catching the way he subtly controlled his breathing despite his best efforts to hide the discomfort.

“I’ll be alright.” he tried to reassure you with a genuinely friendly, albeit, amused smile.

You stepped aside to let them in, your parents now lingering near the living room. Greetings were exchanged, but you barely acknowledged them, your focus entirely on the files Professor Zimmerman carried as he headed toward the spare room that had been turned into your classroom. You were hot on his heels, anticipation thrumming in your veins.

“These aren’t the originals. They’re copies, but nothing has been redacted,” Professor Zimmerman explained as he set the files on the table in front of you. “Be careful with them, though.” You nodded quickly and pulled the first file closer, your fingers tingling as you carefully flipped it open. The sheer amount of information stunned you. There were far more records than you expected, each documenting a Touched in your lineage—one file for each of them.

Professor Saltzman eventually joined Professor Zimmerman near the whiteboard, the two quietly talking while you lost yourself in the files. Their conversation faded into background noise.

“Is she always this curious?” Saltzman asked, arms crossed as he watched you absorb every word on the page.

Zimmerman exhaled with something between amusement and pride. “Her appetite for knowledge is almost insatiable. She’s asking questions most seniors don’t even think to ask. Sometimes, it’s difficult to keep her engaged because she gets bored so easily.”

Saltzman was quiet for a moment before offering, “If you ever need anything, just ask. It’s rare to find a student who genuinely enjoys learning.”

Zimmerman smiled, “Thanks. She’ll appreciate that. If she keeps this up, she’ll graduate by her sixteenth birthday.”

You barely registered their words as you combed through each record, your focus sharpening when you started noticing patterns. By the fourth file, the similarities were impossible to ignore—so you shifted tactics, scanning for key phrases.

And then, your breath caught.

Every single one of them—every Touched before you—had met their soulmate for the first time when he was in wolf form. Never before.

A  shiver ghosted down your spine, your entire body breaking out in goosebumps. You leaned back in your chair, fingers absently tracing the edge of the page as your mind raced.

Did your parents know this? Had they ever read these files? Should you tell them? Or let them keep setting up meetings, oblivious to the truth?

You weren’t sure what you wanted. Fourteen felt too young to be thinking about a soulmate. The idea of it felt… overwhelming. Maybe even a little terrifying.

But another thought crept in, quieter.

If your parents never read these, maybe that meant you still had time. Maybe it meant you could hold onto being just you for a little while longer. With a slow exhale, you closed the file and looked up at Professor Saltzman. “Thank you, for bringing.” You hesitated, then asked,  Have my parents read them?”

He raised an eyebrow but softened at your expression. “You’re welcome. No, they haven’t. Would you like me to suggest that they do?”

You considered it for a long moment before shaking your head  “No. It’s okay.”

Saltzman nodded, retrieved the files and offering a final, knowing glance before saying his goodbyes. Once he was gone, you turned your attention to Professor Zimmerman as he began your daily lessons. 

He didn’t ask you about the files. He knew better. This had been your request—when you were ready to talk about it, you would. But even as you tried to focus, your thoughts kept circling back, over and over.

An alpha had answered your song.

And now, you weren’t sure how you felt.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 2

A/B/O Master List Main Master List Series Master List

Forever Tag List: @roseblue373 @flamencodiva @reignsboy19 @stillhere197 @foxyjwls007

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[justwhisperingfantasies]

daemonium amor

A/n :A drabble for🎉 @rubyvhs 500 song challenge celebration 🎉

430ish words

Warnings- Angst, Couple fighting,

His eyes rose from the book as the clacking of her heeled boots on the tile caught his attention. His gazed traveled up as she passed him, feeling a prickle of excitement as he took in those skinny jeans hugging her curves, that silky black tank cut low enough to show off just enough, her curls bouncing with every step.

A wave of nausea made its way from the pit his stomach, when she picked up her leather jacket and swung it around her. He leaned back in his chair and took a swig of his whiskey. “Let me guess.” He sneered.

She paused just before the entrance to the war room. “You’re seriously mad right now?” He stayed silent, prompting her to spin around. “How did you think this was going to be?”

His jaw clenched, as he felt the anger stir within him.

She slowly made her way over to him. “Did you think I would just settle down and be the perfect little housewife?” she mocked, running her fingers through his hair.

He scoffed, “Didn’t expect you to keep making deals.” He shook away her fingers and stood up, turning to face her.

“You knew what I was going into this.” she closed the space between them, gliding her hands up his chest making his face twist in pain.

“Don’t!”  He pushed her hands away and stomped over to the bar cart.

“Dean, why did you start this if you couldn’t handle.”

“Like I have a choice.” he shouted, cutting off her question.

“And you think I do?” she retorted.

She sighed, the clanking started behind him again, quieter this time, her strides hesitant as she made her way to him. He let out a deep breath, attempting to let go of the frustration that bubbled within him, as her arms wrapped around him from behind. He turned around, breaking her hold.

He grasped her hand and brought it gently to his lips. “Stay.”

“Dean…”

His fingers slid to the nape of her neck as he gently pressed his lips against her forehead.

“We will figure it out. There must be something.”

“I gotta go.” Every muscle in his body tensed at her words. She stepped back, leaving his arms longing for her as they dropped to his side. “I’ll be back.”

“Don’t bother.”

She nodded and the clacking started again, with every step his anger intensified.

The bunker door slammed shut and his fury boiled over, sending the chair crashing against the cement wall, shattering it into fragments.

Tag List

@idk6505

@jackles010378

@mqdhvtter

@nightxcreature

@kamisobsessed

@perpetualabsurdity

@barnes70stark

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@nancymcl

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@deanwinchestersgirl8734

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@1313diana

@lmg14

@aand13b

[littlesoulshine]

───vampire!dean and buffy!reader: language, mentions knives and kissing:

dean shouldn’t want this.

shouldn’t crave the sharp kiss of silver against his skin, shouldn’t shudder at the way it burns through his undead veins like liquid fire.

but it's you—standing over him, blade gleaming in the dark and low light, lips curled in something between a smirk and a challenge.

his smirk mirrors yours, lazy and shameless, fangs peeking past his lips. “gonna kill me, baby?”

your fingers tighten around the hilt of the knife. “thinking about it.”

he chuckles, the sound dark and low, hands resting casually on your hips. “aw, and here i thought we had something special.”

you roll your eyes, but your smirk doesn’t waver. because you do have something special. because you shouldn’t be straddling a vampire, much less being in love with one (this is after he gets bitten). shouldn’t let his hands roam your thighs, shouldn’t let him pull you closer like he’s inviting you to sin right along with him.

and you definitely shouldn’t be humoring this sick little game of his. but you do. the tip of the silver knife presses just under his jaw, right against that spot where his pulse should be. he hisses, back arching, fingers digging into you as his whole body shudders beneath you. you laugh, tilting your head. “you like this.”

his breathing is ragged, fangs dragging over his lower lip. “maybe I do.”

you press a little harder, just enough for his skin to sear. the scent of burning flesh curls in the air, but dean just groans, eyes fluttering shut. “you’re sick,” you whisper, but you’re smiling when you say it.

his grip on you tightens, hips pressing up against yours. “and you’re still here.”

he’s right. you should stop. you should pull away.

but instead, you drag the flat of the blade down his throat, over the collar of his open shirt, tracing searing lines against his chest.

his whole body jerks at the contact, and he makes a sound that’s way too wrecked for someone being burned alive. “fuck—” he groans, head falling back, baring his throat to you. a silent invitation. “more, sweetheart”

your breath hitches. his hands slide up your spine, slow and deliberate, fangs grazing his lower lip as he watches you through dark, hungry eyes.

“you gonna stake me,” he rasps, “or you gonna kiss me?”

your answer is neither.

instead, you press the silver deeper, just enough to make him hiss—then you crush your lips against his, swallowing the sound whole. dean growls into your mouth, hands tangling in your hair, tugging you down like he needs you, like the burn of silver and the press of your body are the same kind of ache.

he tastes like blood and complete sin, like something you should run from but never will.

the knife trembles in your grip, caught between his chest and your palm, burning both of you now.

but neither of you pull away. not yet 𑁥౿

tags: @soldiersgirl @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis @whisperingdaze @cherrygirlfriend @figthoughts @sunsbaby @ambiguous-avery @bocadelinfierno @sunnyteume @bejeweledinterludes @k-slla @lunaleah @pieandflannel @zepskies @liiiilsss

[wendichester]

request for kissing sammy for a prolonged period of time that your glasses get all foggy and crooked and he fixes them for you and wipes the lenses tenderly before kissing you some more… sigh. my mind is just full.

∘˙○˚.•꒰ ⎚-⎚ ꒱ misty kisses,

summary. nothing stops sam from kissing you. and he's just adorable

pairing. sam winchester x reader

wordcount. 361

notes. absolutely in love with this request. such a soft and loving moment. ugh ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

Sam’s lips meet yours, soft and warm, stealing your breath with each kiss. It starts slow, tender, but quickly deepens into something that makes your knees weak. His large hands cradle your face, thumbs brushing over your cheeks like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

You’re vaguely aware of your glasses slipping down your nose, the lenses fogging with every heated breath. But it’s hard to care when Sam is kissing you like this—like you’re his only reason for being.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him impossibly closer. The heat of his body seeps into yours, and the rest of the world fades away. His kisses are slow but consuming, the kind that makes your heart race and time stretch endlessly.

When you finally part for air, Sam chuckles softly, his forehead resting against yours. “Your glasses,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing.

You blink up at him, dazed, and he gently pushes them back into place, though they’re hopelessly crooked. His smile is soft as he takes them off entirely, holding them delicately. “Can’t have you walking around like this.”

Sam pulls a corner of his flannel shirt up and carefully wipes the lenses. His hands are so gentle, his movements precise. When he’s satisfied, he slips them back onto your face, adjusting them until they sit just right.

“There,” he says with a grin, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Perfect.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

Sam leans in again, his lips brushing against yours. “You’re adorable, you know that?”

He doesn't give you time to respond, capturing your lips once more. This kiss is softer, slower as if he’s savoring every second. His hands slide down to your waist, pulling you closer until you’re completely lost in him again.

When he finally pulls back, his hazel eyes are warm. He brushes his thumb over your cheek, his touch leaving a trail of warmth in its wake.

“Glasses okay?” he asks, a playful lilt to his voice.

You nod, grinning. “Much better now,”

“Good,” he says, pressing one last lingering kiss to your forehead. “Now, where were we?”

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume

[samuelsdean]

Stitch Me Up

pairing: dean winchester x reader

summary: for dean, every scrape, every gash, was a twisted plea for your touch.

genre: angst

word count: 0.5k

author's notes: i wrote this at 3 am on my notes app while simultaneously rewatching spn because i'm insane and i'm a huge advocate of touch-starved!dean.

THE METALLIC TANG OF BLOOD WAS DEAN'S CONSTANT UNPLEASANT FOREWARNING THAT DEAN HAD RETURNED—HE WAS HOME. Sprawled on the floor, another injury marring his flesh, and he sees you right there in front of him. He could see the anger in your eyes, could feel the fury that bubbles in your gut is ceaseless, a familiar dance with the ever-present terror.

For Dean, every scrape, every gash, was a twisted plea for your touch.

Dean loves it when you touch him, when you lay your hands gently on his skin, careful not to cause him more pain than what he is dealing with at the moment. He loves it when you clean his wounds while going off on another tangent as to how he should be more cautious—threatening him that next time, you would not be there to treat him; yet, every time, not one did you miss his homecoming, when he comes home bloodied, the first thing you do is come running and restoring him to full health. He craved your tirades, the harsh scoffs, and thinly veiled threats that were your flimsy shield against worry. Each rant was a desperate battle cry, a plea for him to be careful.

Yet, Dean could not help himself. He reveled in your ministrations, the gentle contrast to the fire of your anger.

Dean loves it when you tend to him because it is proof that you care.

And he craves it—craves you—your presence, your touch—everything. He thinks it is sickening how much he has grown to crave you. Because he thinks he does not deserve you, and he knows that the universe always tries to play a sick joke on him.

It was a warped version of his affection born from a life spent in the shadows. Love, for him, was a dangerous dance, a promise of heartbreak waiting to happen. People he cared about had a knack for disappearing, leaving him with the cold comfort of solitude. Hunting was a drifter's existence. A life with no room for roots or dreams. Letting someone in, and building a family, was a recipe for disaster.

It is a lonely life being a hunter. One could never have the chance to put down roots because there is always a monster to hunt, a demon to exorcise, and a case to solve. Loving someone and having a family is just a foolproof way of getting yourself hurt. Yet, here he was, craving the very thing he swore to avoid. It was a sickness, a yearning that gnawed at his soul.

Because the truth, the terrifying truth, was that Dean could not bear the thought of being truly alone.

The sting of disinfectant was a cruel reminder of his twisted reality. As you patched him up, his eyes, usually alight with mischief, held a touch of vulnerability. At that moment, Dean gave you a glimpse of his plea for something more than just mending—a desperate hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a place in a world that felt increasingly fragile, right beside you.

But the question remained, a silent echo in the tense air: could you give him what he craved without sacrificing your own heart in the process?

[melwnst]

────── ⋆⋅☆ LET IT HAPPEN; SAM WINCHESTER

lyric prompt. whatever happens, I’m letting it.

summary. Patching Sam up after a hunt might lead to more than you just complaining that he doesn’t have a shirt on.

let me know if you’d like a part two🤭 please interact with this :)

word count. 1,3k

supernatural masterlist

my full masterlist/support my work!

──────────୨ৎ──────────

Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks. Months.. no amount of time would make up for the fact that being alone is one of the worst feeling a person who loves love can feel.

It was easy at first. You figured being alone wasn’t so bad after a lifetime of being surrounded by people who sucked.

The loneliness started creeping after a couple days, though. It almost felt like you were losing your mind, you were going crazy. It wasn’t like you heard voices- but maybe that wouldn’t have been so bad.

No- it was the silence that freaked you out. When you were about to fall asleep, when you were waking up, the silence in the car, researching, chasing whatever demon or monster you were after.

It almost got scary after a while. You didn’t feel so safe anymore.

You began hunting with people, and now it was just you. At first, you thought, maybe this wouldn’t suck so much. You wouldn’t have someone scream in your ear that you did something wrong constantly, you wouldn’t have anybody teasing you or annoying you. But sometimes you almost missed that.

Then Sam Winchester came along.

His hair, the way he smiled, smelled, made you laugh and made your stomach churn.

The loneliness was gone. You didn’t know how long it would be gone for, but you would take all this time in, make the most of it.

Sam was interesting. He was smart, way smarter than any hunter you’d met. And on the side was Dean, a lady lover, who only cared about getting the job done.

He was nice company, sure. But Sam was Sam.

Sam was like a breath of fresh air. He was like wind on a summer day, and snow on a winter day.

He was like the path leading to your doorway, his eyes were easy to get lost in and his smile, god his smile was to die for.

He didn’t understand how someone like you, could’ve been left alone after all of this.

Your life story was enough to make him want to kill people with his bare hands.

He had this sense of protection over you, he didn’t know where it came from, but anyone who dared hurting you was dead meat to him.

Dean had never seen him like that, and you didn’t know what to think about it.

He was sweet. Too sweet, perhaps. But he had this darkness inside of him you could tell would come out eventually, it was only a matter of time.

But you didn’t want to focus on that.

Those couple hunts you spent together were some of the best you’d had, ever.

That feeling of safety was back again.

The people you were with before didn’t matter anymore, only the brothers did, especially Sam.

Sam was it. You didn’t care much what it was, perhaps maybe just a friend, but you were okay with it as long as he was there- just a part of your life. The feelings probably wouldn’t be reciprocated anyway- that’s what you thought at least.

Then it came to patching them up every now and then after a hunt.

At this point you felt you were part of the family. You’d lost count of how many hunts you’d spent with them. They didn’t seem to mind- and you sure as hell didn’t.

Patching Sam up was always fun. It was also awkward for the most part. Only ever wanting to look up at him, stare at his lips and maybe jump in. But you’d never dare to- it was Sam. You couldn’t just mess things up.

This one was no different, though. The tension in the air was thick, more than it ever had been before.

But it was also comforting, knowing that it was only you and him.

Sam winced as you dabbed a cotton with alcohol on his arm.

He wasn’t shirtless this time, which you kind of hated.

You could tell he was looking down on you, but you refused to look up.

‘Do you miss them?’ He spoke up.

‘Miss who?’ Your eyebrows furrowed in both confusion and concentration over his wound.

‘The people you used to hunt with. You never told me why you stopped.’ That was true. You’d shared a little bit, but not much more was worth sharing.

‘God, no. I’m glad I got rid of them. They were breathing down my neck like I was a newbie, I got tired of being disrespected so I left. Plus, it led me to you guys.’ You smiled though Sam couldn’t see, but he could hear it in your voice.

He only smiled too. ‘Right.’

Sam was glad you were here. Dean had been driving him crazy for a while, no surprise there, so having you around, that kept him sane.

‘I’m glad you’re here, you know?’ You could almost hear his breath quicken.

‘Yeah? So am I.’ You finally looked up. His Adam Apple seemed to be telling you he was nervous, you could tell.

You were no good around nervous people. It made you feel that way too, for some reason.

Sam chuckled, making it feel like the tension had been sucked away.

‘You know, if I have to patch you up after every hunt, you might just call me your personal nurse.’ You laughed and got up, about to walk over to the medicine cabinet to put the kit away, Sam held you back by your wrist.

‘Maybe I’m doing it on purpose.’ Sam teased, though no smile, or hint of funniness could be seen or heard in his voice.

‘Oh yeah? Why is that?’ You teased back.

Sam could feel your pulse throbbing over your wrist.

He took a deep breath before speaking again.

‘C’mon. You can’t seriously be that oblivious.’ A smirk was visible on his face.

It was your turn to take a deep breath. Your voice was suddenly gone. You opened your mouth to answer, but nothing came out.

He took your voice away.

That was ironic.

You could only muster a small ‘Sam’ under your breath.

He had a hint of darkness in his eyes. Not the darkness you’d seen before. This wasn’t anger, or sadness. You just couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was.

Before you could understand what was happening, Sam, still holding onto your wrist, got up and hovered over you.

‘What are you doing?’ Seemingly, your voice was back, though shaky.

‘Something I should’ve done weeks ago.’

Sam’s lips were hot on yours. It took a couple seconds for your lips to move in synchronicity with his. For it to really, get to your brain- to register that Sam Winchester was kissing you.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it. About what his lips would feel like on yours. His hands all over your body. You’d fantasized about it, so many times.

His hands moved from all over. One second they were on your hips, your waist, the bottom of your spine, up to your cheeks, and getting all tangled up in your hair.

‘What a shame you have a shirt on this time.’ You laughed breaking the kiss.

Sam reciprocated the action, laughing, then smiling putting his forehead to yours.

Both of your breaths felt heavy, and the tension in the air had changed. It was thicker, but better.

Your eyes were closed, his skin on yours, until you let fear consume you.

‘What if this doesn’t work out.’ It wasn’t a question, more of a concern, an assumption.

Though your eyes were still closed, you could hear Sam take a breath, and squeeze your hands.

‘We’ll figure it out. Alright?’ He had the same question lingering.

‘Yeah. Whatever happens, we’re letting it, for now.’ You opened your eyes to him looking back at you and nodding. The darkness was still here but it was mixed with sweetness and adoration.

‘Now. About that shirt of yours..’

[zepskies]

August Fic Recs

Hey, friends!

I got inspired by the awesome monthly rec posts that @winchestergirl2 and @deanwinchesterswitch put together, and decided to try this out. I might not do this every month, but we'll see! lol I now realize how much time and effort this takes, so to you guys who do this on the regular, I salute you! 🫡 😂

Note: If the author provided a summary, I'll include it. If not, and if it's untitled, I'll include the first line of the story. If it's a series and the author provided a series masterlist link in the chapter post, I'll also include it. MINORS BEWARE: a lot of this is 18+ content!

Supernatural

Dean Winchester x Reader:

@mxltifxnd0m -

Cute Glasses

Boyfriend Headcanons

@dewwinchester -

Stitches Summary: Dean texts you for help, and you drop everything for him.

@dean-winchester-is-a-warrior -

Things Learned and Unlearned | Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15 Summary: Y/N has spent her life trying to outrun her mother's reputation. When she meets the rich and successful playboy, Dean Winchester, how quickly can he get her to stop running?

Every Fucking Time Summary: You want to help Dean, but he knows you can't.

@talltalesandbedtimestories -

Just a Little Spice Summary: Dean likes to spice things up, but it would be nice if he didn’t have to put his life in danger in the process.

@luci-in-trenchcoats -

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

A Shirtless Winchester

Imagine...Breaking Dean Out of Jail

@zeppelinlvr -

"Better?" "Much" Summary: waking up next to Dean and getting ready with him.

@ohsc -

Help You

@rizlowwritessortof -

Sweet Escape - Part 1, Part 2 Summary: What happens when a friend jokingly does a spell at your birthday party to bring your cardboard standup of Dean Winchester to life?

@deans-queen -

Stolen Moments Summary: Y/N finds herself unable to resist capturing a rare, peaceful moment of Dean Winchester sleeping in a motel room. But when Dean wakes up and catches her in the act, what starts as an innocent photo op quickly turns into an intimate encounter.

Sweet Distractions Summary: Reader (Y/N) is at the bunker, working on an essay for her Child Development class. When Dean comes to check on her, his bad-boy charm quickly becomes a distraction she can’t resist, no matter how hard she tries.

@tofics -

Let There Be Light Summary: You, Dean and Sam are fighting America's monsters together. Coming from a long line of hunters, you fit right in with the Winchester boys, despite having been raised entirely different from the two. Where you were brought up with love and care, John raised Sam and Dean with rules and obedience. Seeing what Dean does for the world, you decide it's time that he gets his own share of love...

@jackles010378 -

A Sweet Treat Summary: Dean gets a little excited when Y/N makes his favourite treat.

Dean Winchester x OC:

@rizlowwritessortof -

Remember Me - Part 4

@spnbabe67 -

Girls, Girls, Girls Summary: While on a witch hunt Dean gets hit with a spell. Later at the hotel, Dean feels the effects of the spell and Tori has to help him through it.

It Takes Two Summary: Dean and Tori get roped into doing a pregnancy yoga session and he reminisces on how he found out she was pregnant. (Dean's POV)

Comfortember Day 7: Sick As A Dog Summary: When Dean wakes up sick, it's up to Tori to make him feel better again.

Comfortember 2023 Master List

The Broken Heart Trilogy Master List

Sam Winchester x Reader:

@ohsc -

Delicate

Untitled Drabble - "She wouldn't stop giggling."

The Boys

Soldier Boy x Reader:

@kaleldobrev -

Yes Ma'am (Soldier Boy x Plus-size!Reader) Summary: Macho Man Ben never thought he’d ever take orders from a woman; but now he does so with a smile (aka Ben is whipped and he doesn’t care).

After Everything Summary: You and Ben have a heart-to-heart.

@artyandink -

The Art of Heresy - Prequel, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 Summary: Modern day, 2022, and you have no clue what’s going on. You knew what you went through. You knew it was real, but why were there people trying to convince you that everything that happened to you wasn’t real. Hell, you called bullshit. But you get your chance to fight back when you get a call at your door.

Billy Butcher x Reader:

@lady-z-writes -

Untitled Drabble - "Butcher stumbles in the office. Haggard, nothing new."

Tracker

Russell Shaw x Reader:

@impala-dreamer -

Don't Mention It

@luci-in-trenchcoats -

M.I.A. Summary: When Colter Shaw calls the reader for help on a job, she thinks nothing of helping out. Only he never shows up and Colter may have just become the latest disappearance in this small town. It’s up to her and Russell to work together to find him before his case goes cold like all the others before…

Jacklesverse

Various characters portrayed by Jensen Ackles and/or crossovers:

@deanbrainrotwritings -

Jacklesverse Bingo 2023 Masterlist

@justagirlinafandomworld -

Stranded - SPN/The Boys crossover: Soldier Boy & Reader, with a mention of Dean.

@lamentationsofalonelypotato -

It's Not a Big Deal - SPN/The Boys crossover: Soldier Boy x Reader, with a side helping of Dean. Summary: Dean's in for a rude awakening when he finds out exactly what you did when you got stranded in another universe.

@artyandink -

Nature's Beauty Summary: You have stretch marks. How would the boys react to that?

Chicago Med

Will Halstead x Reader:

@deanstead -

5 Times You Held Back + 1 Time You Didn't Have To Summary: Five times you held back, and the one time you didn’t have to.

Wow, I read a lot this month! 😂 I hope you enjoy these lovely writers and their stories as much as I did. 💜