#Reader x Dean

[fallecupid]

"how could i love you?"

.ᐟ.ᐟ warnings :ㅤ angst!dean.ㅤvampire!reader.ㅤgn!reader.ㅤㅤㅤword count: 6k

( author's note : i apologize in advance for errors in this text / vague wording / words that are incorrect in meaning ( if any are present in the content. ) english is not my native language, everything written below has been translated by a translator. )

The heavy clanking of chains and the dampness of the basement hit you like cold water in the morning. Confusedly trying to get some focus of events, you shook your head, almost instantly calling out an irritated lurch somewhere behind you. The gears were slowly banging one against one in your brain, not ready to acknowledge the worst of it. Though it was clear in the back of your mind that it was Dean. You could have sworn you were about to meet his disappointed gaze, or worse, a silver bullet to the forehead.

The man grabbed your chin sharply, not even trying to control the force with which he squeezed the soft skin that once held you so sweetly against him. "Don't look away, the least you can do is look at me." Dean leaned in slightly, gritting his teeth almost to the point of grinding. "After all the shit you pulled on me. How long did you think you'd be a doormat?" He cut himself short, pulling away and crossing his arms over his chest as a low rumble came from you.

The noise intensified behind you, and within minutes Dean Winchester was standing in front of you. His green eyes darkened, like he saw some bastard he should take his life, but damn it was ironic. You pressed your lips together, unable to even look at him.

A tiny signal of how much pain he was holding you in. To his inner turmoil, Winchester let go, he would blame himself again and again later, but not now. "Just let me explain..." Your parched lips cracked as you tried in vain to moisten them with saliva. Winchester, squinted his eyes, unable to hide the way his inner demons were eating away at him.

He couldn't get his mind around how disgusting you were. The little snake he held close, the bloodsucker in the same bed as him. It was utter nonsense, but it was true. And the worst part was that he loved you, even now, through the prism of hatred, he loved you.

The man paced the damp floor, which creaked treacherously beneath him, sagging wetly. "Try explaining." The chilling tone cut into you like a knife to the heart, but with the stipulation that it had been spun a few times. Under that invisible vise, the only thing you could do was stare meekly at the floor, swaggering your words.

"I wanted to say earlier...But i was enjoying the moment too much, you know? All your love, your affection, your smile, those damn teases.... Everything was available to me, like I'd won the damn lottery." You didn't dare look at him, just squirmed.

Dean stopped, looking at you, pursing his lips. A weak excuse, you knew full well he was smashing heads with the likes of you every damn day, yet you still lived off of fortune. Either you were a goddamn lunatic or crazy in love. He almost suppressed a smirk, running those words through his head.

But the moment of weakness didn't last long, he would remember again the moments where you almost got caught. The perpetual night walks, the drops of blood caked on your clothes, the odd behavior, after all. But Dean was just a brainless puppy in love for turning a blind eye so easily. Now all he wanted to do was bang his head against the wall a few times to beat the crap out of himself and the idea that you deserved forgiveness.

Still circling beside you, he hissed in your ear, warm breath stated with dry speech. "That's a weak excuse. If you'd lost control and gnawed on a neighborhood, right? A city? You're dangerous as hell." The man touched your neck, nuzzling it in a light touch, averting his gaze. Now the gears were already working in his brain. It was as if some contradiction was showing its ugly head every time he spat those caustic words at you, every time he wanted to take your head off. God damn him.

Still clutching your neck, his eyes followed yours, those damn eyes full of fear and despair, those damn eyes in which he was drowning and still is. Those lips, now pressed almost to white, used to kiss him supplely. Your hair, the familiar tuft of hair that rippled against his skin. And it was now that it overwhelmed him, as if he were looking through an old family album.

But that's the thing about scrapbooks, they hold those memories that can only be remembered, not realized. You're a monster, you killed innocent people, manipulated them. Torn in a cycle of doubt, he didn't notice how damn hard he squeezed your throat, of course it wouldn't kill you, but noticeable discomfort it might bring.

"Shit shit shit shit, I-" As if coming out of a trance, he recoiled, looking at your face, you almost on the verge of tears. The irony was eerily funny, because he too felt a lump somewhere in the middle of his throat.

"Just tell me, what the hell? Why are you torturing me?" He pressed his lips together, running his fingers through his hair. "You know damn well I can't kill you, but you look at me like I'm the ultimate evil of all." Muttering quietly, Dean took a few deep breaths, looking at you slightly blurred.

Shit. He can't just take your life, not after you pulled him out of a shit hole, not after you helped him rebuild Sammy, not after you gave him a goddamn house. He found a piece of himself. He'd already lost one, his father, and he wasn't ready to lose one by his own stupid oversight.

In fact, you'll handle everything together, won't you? Dean knelt down in front of you, his hands convulsively squeezing your cheeks, on which tears had long since flowed. The man pressed his forehead against yours, his voice shaking like he was in forty-degree cold. "I'm sorry, i'm sorry i'm a fool." He looked at you. "No, you're not.... Anyone in your shoes would have done the same." You muttered, meeting his gaze.

"I'm in my place right now and i'm being an idiot for letting myself love you." Bitter longing mixed with the heaviness of his voice as calloused fingers drew faint circles on your cheeks. "Hey... don't cry." Winchester leaned toward you, absorbing the regret in your eyes.

"That's right, you're a complete idiot for not shooting me in the head." Trembling, your hand tentatively reaches for his hair, groping the area. But here you are: he suppliantly reaches for you, unable to look at you anymore. It's as if all his hateful feeling has been washed away by the speech water, as if you were never a blood-singing brat and he never dreamed of killing you.

It's like everything's back to normal. He's beside you, you're stroking his hair, and he's tucking his lips into your shoulder. It's all so familiar, so warm. So much so that it could have been a happy dream, but no. We're in a harsh reality where every parasite will get to every innocent.

Just by that, you receive a crushing blow to the heart, his revolver filled with silver bullets poking into your soft chest. He doesn't even try to hold back the tears that are traitorously pouring out of him, the only thing he can do is scream as he stares at your now breathless body. Dean could have sworn there was a phrase frozen on your lips that cut his heart worse than any knife. "I love you."

Winchester's always been a hunter. No matter how long he pretends this doesn't concern him, he can't just leave it alone. Even if he's ready to shoot himself now, even if he feels himself shattering into a million pieces right now, he's still a hunter. And you, you're the vampire, the one he's hunting.

[reigningqueenofwords]

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Part 3 of the Games We Play

The next morning when you woke up, you felt the warm body that your back was against move as he breathed. Rolling to your stomach to look at him, you smirked. “See something you like?” Sam chuckled as he stretched.

“Well, what I really like is covered by a sheet right now.” You teased. He rolled you so that your hands were pinned by your head and he was settled between your thighs. Letting your eyes roam down his chest, and back up. “Much better.” You grinned.

His lips met yours roughly, making you moan. Biting your lip, he moved so that both of your hands were pinned above your head with one of his. “Got one more round in you?” He whispered in your ear.

“You got another condom?” You asked.

“You bet your ass I do.”

As you had left his room right before lunch, you saw his brother and waved. “Bye, Dean!” You chuckled, making your way to your own motel room.

You stripped out of your clothes and hopped in the shower, wanting to be on the road soon. There were a few options for you, so you thought about where you felt like heading while you washed your hair.

Sitting on the bed, you leaned against the headboard and logged onto your account. It had been a couple days since you’d had the chance to talk to him, so you were hoping that he was on. Your face lit up when you saw that he was in fact logged on.

Theinastus- There you are!! Where were you last night? I had to listen to my brother fuck some chick. Kanestinia- Why didn’t you put on your headphones? lol Theinastus- They were in his room. And you didn’t tell me where you were. Where were you? Have you been cheating on WoW with another game? Lol Kanestinia- I went out to a bar, hung out with some pretty cool people, and went home with a guy. So no. I was no cheating on WoW. I was having a grand ol’ time. ;)

Dean stared at the screen. He had no right to be jealous! You weren’t his girlfriend, but he hated the thought of you sleeping with some random guy. Taking a deep breath, he tried to make sure he didn’t come off like some douche.

Theinastus- I hope he at least pleased my lady. I would hate to have to hunt him down for disappointing you. Kanestinia- Oh. I’m very pleased alright. He was one hell of a way to break a dry spell! Lol. How about you? Boulder City had some hot women. Please tell me you snatched one up ;) Theinastus- Actually, I didn’t. After my brother left with what’s her name, I came back to the room hoping to see you.

You sighed, shaking your head.

Kanestinia- Don’t forget to live your life because of some girl behind the computer screen. Theinastus- You’re not just some girl.

Staring at his words, your heart sped up, crossing your fingers that he didn’t mean what you thought he did.

Theinastus- I love you.

He ran his hand through his hair, his leg shaking. Did she feel the same? Would she blow him off? Did he just ruin this? Dean suddenly felt sick to his stomach. Groaning, his head went back. “Fuck.” He sighed.

Kanestinia- You don’t know me. We flirt, yeah, but you don’t really know anything about me. It’s safer that way. Just… Live your life, okay? Don’t let our flirting ruin it. Maybe in a different life, it would have been very different, but this is our life. I’m sorry. I have to go. I’ll be on tomorrow night. Just, please think about what I said.

Tearing up, you shut your laptop without properly logging off. It wasn’t fair. You broke your own heart as you were typing those words! You loved him, a lot, and that’s why you had to do that. That’s why you had to say that. Wiping your cheek, you set your laptop off to the side and forced yourself to breathe.

Dean read what you wrote. Over and over. Something that stuck out was that you never said you didn’t feel the same way. Not once did you tell him you didn’t love him. His heart clenched. What did you mean it was safer this way? Were you in trouble? He had a million and one questions going through his mind at the moment.

[unique-high]

[3:06am]

Still come to my shows when you don't wanna see my face.

You were an R & B singer who sang in lounges. And Dean hardly fits in, in these kinds of places, around the people and the music. But for you he showed up just to support you. He never sat in the back, always in the front so you could see him. Even after pity fights between you two when he said he would never attend another show, he was always present. Front row. Lip syncing your songs. Dean's a proud boyfriend. He never missed the chance to tell people sitting nearby: "That's my girlfriend. She's a talented singer, right?” And he would have the biggest smile on his face.

[muffinbeliever]

Drunk Confessions

The reader makes fun, girly drinks for the boys. Chaos ensues. 

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 582 (she's a smol one!)

Warnings: alcohol (?), fluff, very rushed lol 

Square Filled: Feelings Accidentally Revealed @spnfluffbingo

A/N: oh my god hello everyone i am so sorry for the long hiatus/break that i took unexpectedly i missed you all so much and i felt so guilty every day that i didn’t write oops here is a little drabble because i cant bring myself to write more than 2 pages right now, for my 2022 fluff bingo that i am continuing through 2023 (OOPS) i love you all and i hope you enjoy !!!

Masterlist | SPN Fluff Bingo 2022 Masterlist

You slammed the shot glass on the table as the whiskey burned your throat. Your face wrinkled in disgust.

“Oh, that is just… that’s awful,” you said with a shudder. “You guys like this stuff?” 

Sam threw his head back with a laugh while Dean looked at you like you grew two heads. 

“What?” You asked, defensively. “Don’t tell me whiskey tastes better than literally any fruity cocktail in existence.” 

“Dean is still scarred from the time he drank purple nurples,” Sam smirked. 

“What the hell is a purple nurple?” 

“Don’t even ask,” Dean groaned, shaking his head. An idea sparked in your head before you could reply, so you curbed your curiosity, formulating a plan instead. 

“I’ll be right back,” you announced, as you stood from the wooden chair. 

An hour and three drinks later, you were buzzing with alcohol, your body filled with warmth. 

“Woah, Sam, are you drunk?” You asked, perplexed. In all of your years with the brothers, you had never seen either of them drunk. Alcohol was like water to them. 

“Psh, yeah,” he said, sassily. 

“How is that possible? You’re a giant. And you’ve been drinking since you were twelve!” 

“‘Cause Sammy only drinks beer, sweetheart. You get three shots of liquor in him, and he’s out for the night,” Dean laughed, but his slightly slurred words and shining green eyes indicated that he, too, was pretty far gone. 

“At least I’m not short.” Sam bit back from where he was slouched in an armchair, giving his classic bitch face. "And bossy.” You laughed at his seriousness. He looked over at you and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing so hard over there, Y/N/N. You’re the one who’s in love with him.” Your jaw dropped at Sam’s bluntness, your eyes quickly darting towards the older, henley-wearing hunter, who was luckily drunk and distracted. 

“Shut up, Sam,” you laughed, nervously, hoping Dean was too drunk to hear the tremble in your voice. 

“Please. Sound familiar? ‘I would rather stay in Purgatory for a week than spend one more night listening to Dean with another girl,’” Sam said, mocking you in a higher-pitched voice. 

“You said you’d never bring that up!” Your face was heated, embarrassment steadily growing inside of you. “And I don’t sound like that!” 

“I’m getting another drink,” Sam slurred, getting out of his chair. 

You watched with amusement as he stumbled towards the alcohol on the table, carefully sniffing each one, before settling on a fruity cocktail you had finished making just minutes before. You smiled at your small triumph.

You looked over towards Dean again, your heart melting at the bright smile he flashed you. 

“Hey,” you murmured once he was close enough. He pulled you into his arms, and you relaxed in his embrace. Drunk Dean was handsy and affectionate, always talking about how good you smelled. You were familiar with Drunk Dean, having met him a few times throughout your years with the brothers. 

“If I had known you felt that way, I wouldn’t see all those girls,” he said, quietly. Your heart soared at his words— the words you’ve been wanting to hear for so long now— but you knew that it was wrong for you to ask this of Dean, and you shook your head. 

“No I get it, it’s your coping mechanism. You like it,” you argued, albeit weakly.

“No, Y/N. I like you,” Dean insisted, before capturing your lips with his. 

Taglist: @akshi8278​ @skyewardolicitycloisdelena91​ @lanea-1​ @slamminmine​ @bluedragonflylady @cevans-winchester @bakugouswh0r3 @muhahaha303 @allaroundjejje​

[moonlight-rider25]

Gimme, Gimme, Gimme..

 ..A Winchester boys series, featuring you as the reader, Sam and Dean?..

..Hunting cases together...

...angsty backstory...

..You can pick who you end up with...

What do you think?

[jollyhunter]

OH DEAR MY HAND SLIPPED

I just couldn't get the image out of my head of downsized and Ken-clothed Dean singing Barbie World while perched on that Barbie's pink VW ??

Dean Downsized

Title: Dean Downsized

Pairing: Reader x Dean

Word Count: 2,280

Request: Anonymous asked - Could you do one where dean gets miniaturized and reader has to carry him around for the day and Sam makes fun of him and reader laughs and deans all snarky like “I can see down your shirt from here shut up ” and they’re together and a little mean fluff please I m tired of reading cute fluff I like the “you’re a dick but I love you@

A/N: Hope this is what you were looking for. I was walking my dog this morning thinking what I wanted to do with this story and just busted out laughing, thinking of all the implications of a miniature Dean. So fun. :)

Your name: submit What is this? <![CDATA[// <![CDATA[ function replaceAll(find, replace, str) { return str.replace(new RegExp(find, 'g'), replace); } function myHandler() { var input = document.getElementById("inputTxt").value; document.body.innerHTML = replaceAll('Y/N', document.getElementById("inputTxt").value, document.body.innerHTML); } // ]]]]><![CDATA[>]]>

—————————–

“If you had to choose between never brushing your teeth or never brushing your hair again which would you pick?” Dean asked.

  “Gross! I think I’d have to go with never brushing my hair again. I don’t want my teeth falling out, plus I think I could rock the dreadlock look,” you laughed.

  “Oh yeah, they’d look good on you,” he smiled running his fingers through your hair. The two of you were laying in the dark in bed. Some nights when sleep wasn’t coming easily you would stay up talking about whatever. Occassionaly it would turn into a game of would you rather.

  Keep reading

[heartiella]

[flow33didontsmoke]

when y/n does something so bad/embarrassing you have to facepalm and close your eyes for a minute

[randommultifandomrants]

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

[natti-ice]

18+ mdni

that reality check hitting after reading smut

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[colmiillo]

I'm not just a bitch, I'm a bitch with a backstory

[cruel-seduction]

It’s like a full-blown addiction, but instead of drugs or booze, it’s this fictional guy who’s got her wrapped around his finger. She knows it’s fucked up—knows she’s out here daydreaming about someone who’s not even real—but who cares? This guy? He’s everything. He’s charming in the worst ways, flawed in every possible sense, but there’s just something about him that has her hooked. He doesn’t even know she exists, but she’s ready to fight anyone who says a word against him. Seriously, she’ll defend his honor like it’s a fucking life-or-death mission.

He’s a goddamn trainwreck, but he’s her trainwreck. She’ll put up with all his baggage, his emotional scars, his dark sides, because somehow, that brokenness makes him feel more real to her than any real guy could. He’s messed up, but she’ll fix him in her head every single time. Maybe it’s that thrill of knowing he’s dangerous and untouchable that makes him even more irresistible. He might break her heart in a hundred ways, but it’s the kind of heartbreak that makes her feel alive, even if it hurts like hell.

And it’s never gonna happen, right? She knows that. He’s not gonna waltz into her life and sweep her off her feet. But it doesn’t matter. Because she gets to have him on her terms—no messy reality, no awkward first dates, no risking her heart for real. He’s always there when she needs him, in that perfect little bubble of fantasy she’s built for herself. And maybe she’s a little crazy for it, but at least with him, she’s never disappointed. Every time she replays his scenes, reads the fanfics, imagines their future together—it's like a high she can never quite shake. She knows it's all just a mindfuck, but she’s never felt more alive.

[inknopewetrust]

[bethsvrse]

me staring at my ceiling after y/n does the most FLABBERGASTING thing ever

[moonlight-rider25]

Winchester Girl. Chapter 1

Warnings: Rated PG13, swearing, smoking, fluff, angst

Present day, Massachusetts 11:49pm.

…"Well, aren't you two a sight for sore eyes."

You take a deep breath and swing the door open for the two towering men to slip in between. Latching it behind you, you exhale heavily and slowly turn towards them, they both stand with a solemn look on their face as they stare back at you.

"Glad to see your two smiling faces…" You say sarcastically as you cross your arms over your chest.

"...So what's the occasion, boys?"

Sam wipes his hand over his mouth and begins to stir anxiously before you. Dean keeps his eyes set on you, hands deep in his pocket with his usual stoic face resting in place.  You roll your eyes and turn towards the doorway of the small kitchen; adjacent to the living room. 

It wasn't much and it sure wasn’t fancy, but it was yours and you were proud of it. Left to you by your gran, you couldn't complain of the slightly run down two bedroom home you had once grown up in with your mom and sister. Strutting over to the fridge, you swing the door open and closed with a smack. Returning only a moment later with two beers in hand. You cautiously extend them out towards the boys and they take them without a word while you seat yourself down against the fake leather sofa. They pop the covers off, resting them on the China cabinet nearby, and take long sips; still refusing to utter a word. You peer towards the TV and grasp your vodka soda, from the side table. You take a long sip from the cracked, repurposed KFC straw facing away from them.

"..Gonna make me drink alone?" You ask coyly, still looking towards the small flat screen.

Finally you hear their footsteps approach from the back of the sofa and watch Sam ease into the old, tan, oversize recliner, somehow still making it seem small.  Leaving Dean to perch uneasily at the opposite end of the sofa by your feet.

You sip from the straw without meeting their precarious looks and clear your throat. 

"Look I got a 9 to 5 to get to in the morning, and PTA after school, can we please skip the guessing games, and get to the point?" 

Sam rubs his brow as Dean stares blankly down towards the coffee table and they stir anxiously. 

"We didn't mean to intrude, Y/N, we just need a little help on this one.." Sam finally utters apologetically.

"No shit, I assumed that much. Why else would you two lumberjacks show up unannounced at my door?" 

You state coldly reaching down towards the coffee table for your pack of L&M reds. You pluck one from the pack and toss it back on the table. You place the slim white cigarette between your lips and feel around your pants pockets for your lighter. Fishing down into the crease of the couch, only coming up with stale goldfish and matchbox cars; you sit up and reach further into the gritty couch crevice.  Finally hitting a familiar feeling with your fingertips, you peer up to spy Dean's hand extended with his shiny metal zippo lighter ready, inches from your cigarette. You reach over and puff eagerly, lighting it on the flame and peer up into his glimmer green eyes for a brief second before sitting back against the couch crossing your legs again and exhaling slowly.

"When are you gonna quit those, Y/N?..." Dean asks, snapping the lighter closed and dropping it back in his jacket pocket. 

"Oh, save it.." You say after taking another long inhale.  "...100% of non-smokers die too… especially in this line of work." 

Dean stares daggers at you as you flick the end of the cigarette into the ashtray. You boldly meet his look again, bringing the butt of the cigarette to your lips and sucking at it again.

"Vamp nest." He says coldly in his deep intimidating voice. "A big one…" He says craning his head over to eye Sammy. 

"They, uhh, apparently have been targeting young women…" Sam adds, once meeting Dean's look.

He swallows and brushes the stray hairs from his face as he stutters to get the words out.

"Where?" You ask, exhaling a vast white cloud of smoke from your mouth directly towards; Dean who grimaces.

"About a day's drive from here.." Sam answers with a nod.

You flick the ash into the ashtray beside you again and turn back towards the TV.

"..Think it can wait till tomorrow morning?" You ask with another puff thick in your throat.

It was Thursday night, you were mom free Friday after 8am to Sunday at 5pm. Sam and Dean both know and most of the time, respectfully understand this; after all, it was obviously the biggest reason you weren't as active in hunting, as you wanted to be. 

Sam remains silent, nodding in his seat after taking a long sip of his Bud Weiser.  Dean looks back towards you, and you slowly meet his eye, taking a sip from your straw.

"It'll have to be, won't it?" He says with a devilish look in his eyes.

You crack a sarcastic smile through the straw in your mouth and roll your eyes as you turn back towards the TV. 

You finish your butt and stub it out, leaning forward on the couch before getting up and making your way towards the linen closet to grab sheets, pillows, and blankets for them. You hear them mumble low in their thick deep voices, not as quietly as they probably imagine; and make sure to slam the closet door shut, signaling your return. Your arms full of bedding for them, you see Dean relaxed against the back of the couch with his feet kicked up on the coffee table. His arm outstretched against the top of the plush sofa where you had just been. They both turn towards you with curious looks on their faces.

"So, one in the recliner, one on the pullout…" you say slowly, rounding the couch. "...That or you can share the pullout…" you add through a smile, placing the bundle of blankets on the couch.

They both crack a smile and you look around trying to make sure everything is in order for them.

Dean eyes you again with a daring look; “...Sammy can’t bunk with you?” He says with a snicker.

You glare towards him with a warning look.

"Feel free to use the shower…help yourself to snacks.." You gesture towards the kitchen.

"You uhh… you got any of those little foil wrapped things? …come in a two pack?" Dean asks with a smirk.

You exhale a quiet sigh, biting back a smirk, and watch as Sam tries to hide his own smile creeping across his face.

"Pop Tarts?" You ask through a snicker.

Dean's face lightens up as he allows his smile to grow across his lips.

"Yeah! Those little devils are delicious!" He tells you, straightening up against the couch a bit.

You allow the laugh to linger in the air as you stride towards the kitchen. You reach up into the cabinet and grab the two boxes perched on the faded painted shelf; brown sugar for Sam and Chery for Dean. You swing the cabinet shut and walk back out into the living room, kicking a few action figures to the side in the process. You hold up the two foil covered packages and they both beam a smile in your direction. You toss them their pop tarts, hearing them eagerly tear into their packages as you head for the bolt lock on the front door. You fasten it and dip back into the kitchen against the doorway swatting at the light switch on the wall. You hear Dean's eager hum as he indulges into the breakfast snacks; while reaching for the metal cord on the lamp beside the couch. You grab the remote from the coffee table and toss it in Sam's lap, who's also enjoying the child's snack. 

"Don't stay up too late," you tell them, brushing your fingers through Sam's thick head of hair as you trek back towards the hall to your room. "Finns an…"

"..An early riser, I know… we know!" Dean remarks through his mouthful.

“...God, you need a haircut..” You joke towards Sam.

You walk past your doorway and stand quietly for a moment watching Finley sleep soundly, with the gentle blue hue of his dinosaur nightling on his bed stand. You pace back towards your room and quietly shut your door behind you before slipping into an old oversized tee shirt, and drop your bottoms to the floor. You plug your phone in, and place it on your nightstand before rotating the little knob on your lamp; the room growing dark. The hushed murmur from the TV in the living room, fills the air as you roll over in bed and sigh a deep exhale of relief. 

He chuckles a bit and you trail away from the two down the hall.

As much as you hate to admit it, there is a huge sense of relief knowing the two Winchester brothers sit out in your living room tonight.  Not a goddamn thing to fear; burglar, ax murderer, or the creatures that haunt most people's nightmares; would be getting very far into your house tonight. You recall a time where you spent every night with that kind of reassurance… but it had been years since then.  Regardless of how many nights alone you spent in your bed reminding yourself not to worry of things that may go bump in the night…your past had a funny way of always showing back up at your worn out New England door. Little did those tall handsome Winchester boys know that a little part of you each night was always hoping they would... 

~~~~~

The sun peeks through the faded shades as you hear the little peppering footsteps tear down the wooden hallway. You roll over in your bed peering at the alarm clock 5:12 am glows back at you. You sigh, turning back over and groaning against your pillow.

“Oh nice, he let me sleep in 12 minutes today..”

You pull the blankets up over your head and sigh again trying to shake the sleep from your head…then your heart drops into your stomach 

"Ahhhh!" 

The blood curdling scream that haunts your nightmares. You burst from your bed and rush towards the living room, completely forgetting your attire and the fact that the two Winchester boys are…were still sleeping in the living room. 

"Uncle Dean!" Finn yells, sprinting across the living room floor. 

"Finn! No!" You shout rushing towards him, but it's too late; he lands feet first in the middle of the pull out, where Dean's limp half covered body lays. Dean jumps, as Finn's body lands in the middle of him.

He grunts and coughs rolling over and sitting up, eyeing you who stands in nothing more than your old tee shirt, barely covering your butt.

"...Sorry!" You say lifting Finn off of the impressively gorgeous looking man and placing him on the floor beside you.

Sam, hearing the commotion stirs awake from his rest and tosses the blankets from his huge torso sitting up in the beaten up recliner. His bare chest and giant shoulders, glistening as he reaches over for Finn.

"Heeey, buddy!" Sam says through his sleep ridden voice.

Finn scampers over and crawls up into Sam's lap, perching himself on the large flat arm of the old tan chair. 

"Oh, jeeze, watch your feet bud…" Sam says adjusting the blankets over his lap.

You curl your lips up into a tightly pinched smirk and cover your mouth realizing how exposed you are standing with your back to Dean.

"What are you guys doing here?" Finn asks in his innocent little voice.

"Uhhhg.. were, we uhhh…" Sam stutters looking from yours and Dean's face for an answer.

Dean rolls over in his spot sitting up and batting his eyes, still not sure as to what the hell is going on around him.

"Uncle Sam and Dean are just in town on business, so they stopped by to say hello!" You lie coyly through your best mom face.

Finns face peers up at you with a slight scowl. 

"Why can't they ever visit when I'm not in school?" He asks with a frown.

"Uncle Sam and Dean's work is everyday, buddy.” You try to console the sad little face peering up at you. “They don’t get weekends and vacations like you do..." You add, turning on your feet to head towards the kitchen. You grab a pillow from Dean's bed and playfully smack him with it as you walk by. 

"Why don't you go get dressed and let Uncle Sam and Dean clean up the living room. You call over your shoulder heading towards the kitchen.

You turn the faucet on, and dump the coffee grounds from the day before.  You hear Finn's footsteps putter back up the hall and hear the groans of the men stirring. 

"You guys got about 90 seconds to make yourself decent before he's back out here…" you call from the kitchen. 

The water trickles into the dingy coffee maker and you grab the hand towel nearby, eyeing the many empty beer bottles placed on the counter..

"..We're decent.." You hear Dean argue in a slurred groan. 

"Mmmm… I'm sure.." You mumble to yourself through a smile, tossing handfuls of empties into the recycling.

They clink against each other and you hang the hand towel back up on the slim metal rack before shutting the cabinet door.

"...More decent that you are…’mommy’…" a deep growl of a voice echoes from behind you.

Spinning around, you see Dean standing in the kitchen doorway in his jeans and Grey t shirt; his hair messed a bit from sleeping. You scowl at him backing up against the kitchen sink and flash him a sarcastic smirk. 

"Sorry, I was too busy saving your.. ‘pitched tents’ from major injury…" you tell him, biting back a cackle. "...my bad!" You snicker.  

He looks you up and down leaning against the wooden doorway with a thick smirk on his face. Crossing his arms, he allows his eyes to linger up and down your long legs. You spin around choking on your laughter a bit and reach up on your toes towards the cabinets quickly realizing your oversized tee... is not over sized enough. You lower yourself back down, inching carefully towards him before standing directly between him and the small space between him and the door frame.

"...Cups are up there.." You tell him, reaching up and ruffling his bed head. “..Help yourself.." 

You mutter quickly walking behind the back of the couch by Sam who's buttoning up his flannel.

You hear Dean mutter something under his breath, as you pass by Finn in the hall who's proudly wearing a superman cape over his ninja turtle housecoat.

"Is she wearing pants?!" Sam asks surprised.

"Nah..nope.." Dean answers before he's greeted by Finn's wonderful outfit choice.

You pop a pair of loose Nike shorts on and fly back out past the couch again. Dean still propped up against the doorway of the kitchen.

"You make a better door than a window.." you tell him, slipping again between him and the wooden frame. 

He snickers but says nothing else as you reach into the freezer and pluck a couple frozen Waffles from the box. You plug the toaster in and drop them down into the metal slats before pressing down the handle.  Out in the living room you hear the giant plastic tote of action figures; crash onto the floor.

"Finn!" You sigh heavily, reaching up in the cabinets for three mugs. "You need to make sure to clean all those up before school today, hear me?" 

You grab the still dripping coffee pot and pour the mugs full. A small 'mmmhmm' coming from the living room as you wipe up the coffee splatter.  You hand Dean his brimming cup of black coffee and grab the cream from the fridge adding a dash to yours and Sam's mug. 

"Uhg, thanks..Y/N…you didn’t have to do..." Sam says with a slight smile as you hand him his mug.

You sip eagerly from your own cup and swipe your pack of cigs off the coffee table from last night, shooting him a knowing look.  He smiles and nods as you pop a cigarette between your lips and peer around the living room for the remote you tossed in Sam's lap. He nods with a grunt through his mouthful of coffee and reaches beside the recliner, handing the small black TV control to you.  

"Thanks!" 

You aim it at the small screen and flash on Finns current favorite Netflix show. You swipe the butt out of your mouth and step over towards Finn who's all too busy with ‘Thor’ at the moment. 

"Keep it down, babe. It’s still early for Uncle Sam and Dean, okay?" You tell him, pressing a kiss on the top of his golden brown hair. 

He nods and begins clashing the plastic action figure into an unwilling opponent and you pop the butt back in your mouth. You realize once again your without a lighter;

"Fuck!" You blurt out.

"That's a bad word, mommy." Finn tells you plainly.

"Yes, it is baby, I'm sorry.." You rush back towards the kitchen where Dean has moved enough out of the way of the door and light the propane stove. It ticks a few times before igniting and you crane your head down towards the flame inhaling to light your cigarette on the hot blue wave.

"Yeah…that seems safe.." Dean sarcastically remarks watching you. 

He takes a long sip of coffee and you remember the Waffles in the toaster. As if on instinct; they pop up and you grab a plastic superhero plate from the clean dish rack and plop the Waffles onto the plate. Along with a cup of apple juice and the smallest fork you can find in the utensil drawer; you place them at the table and call over to Finn for breakfast. 

Finley darts through the kitchen with Iron man and Thor battling midair.  He scoots sideways into his seat, making sure to prop them up and watch him as he eats. 

You turn towards the counter, cigarette in hand gulping back the rest of your coffee and pour another cup.

 "Mommy!" 

"Right, syrup…" 

You turn back towards the fridge and grasp onto the sticky bottle of 'real Vermont syrup' clanking it onto the table next to Finn. 

"Not too much!" You remind him as you strut back out of the kitchen. 

Dean takes a seat at the kitchen table with Finn and you hear a muffled; "Whoa buddy, that's enough..don't ya think?"

Sam folds the bedding up and meets your eye. 

"Oh, don't worry about that!" You tell him, taking a long puff. "I gotta throw it in the wash first." 

You hold the cigarette between your teeth and reach out over Dean's pull out filling your arms with the mismatched linens. Sam hesitantly hands you the 'neatly folded' sheet and you smile through your cigarette. 

"You guys hungry?" You ask as you exhale making your way up towards the hall, throwing the pile of laundry in your arms onto the floor in front of the washing machine.

"Uhhh, no were…were fine, thanks Y/N.." Sam says shyly.

"I got more poptarts." You say walking back out to the living room. 

Sam chuckles a bit, shaking his head; you both turn towards the kitchen hearing Dean's chair screech against the floor as he hears you mention 'pop tarts'. 

"Well…I'm fine.." Sam adds with a chuckle. 

You take a final long puff from your L&M and snuff it out in the ashtray. 

"Sorry Sam, I'd make you an omelet or something if I had the time.." You tell him apologetically.

You stop for a moment, crossing your arms and stare up at the tall man before you; taking in all the little details you remember…

His brown hair framing his face, his eyebrows flustered up when he talks, his little thin lips puckered as he listens to you speak, and the faint stubble trying desperately to grow in around his mouth and chin.  He's got a few more pronounced wrinkles around his eyes and mouth, but other than that all you can see is the man you once fell in love with.  

Sam's eyes dart back and forth as his smile falls away from his face then reappears again.

"It's fine, seriously Y/N..were fine."

He tries to meet your eye, showing his sincerity.

"Fine, and dandy!" Dean mutters loudly through a mouthful of pop tarts from the kitchen.

Both you and Sam laugh a bit hearing Dean in the other room. Sam clears his throat a bit and sets his mug down on the coffee table and exhales with a slight rock in his step before meeting your eyes again.

“Well you look, uh, good.. Been taking care of yourself?” he asks hesitantly, stuffing his hands down into his jeans pockets. 

You pause a moment, craning your head to the side a bit as you watch him shift uncomfortably.

“...Trying to..” You tell him with a playful scoff. 

He smiles and meets your eyes again for a moment, before shifting away quickly.  You sigh and turn your face down to the floor, spying his hands anxiously fidgeting within his pockets. You look back up holding your gaze on him for a moment.

“You don’t gotta be nervous Sam…” you tell him, shaking your head a bit. “...It's just me…”

He scoffs with a quick smirk, plucking his hands out from his pockets and planting them firmly at his waist.  Finally he sighs and meets your look, without darting in different directions. 

“You look good too, Sam. I’m glad to see it..” You add still watching him from your spot.

You sigh and shake your head a bit glancing at the clock on the wall beside the door.

"Shit!” You gasp frantically, “I gotta hop in the shower!" 

"Bad word mommy!" Finn reminds you from the kitchen.

"You're right, I'm sorry baby!" You call trailing back down the hallway.

“Help yourselves to whatever!” You call out down the hall, spinning the dial of the shower on.

~~~~

Some time later you dash back out towards the living room, your hair flung up in a towel. You pick up Finn's sticky Waffles plate and drop it into the sink before grabbing a third cup of coffee. …Or you would have, but you spy the empty pot instead.

You dump the dripping coffee grounds into the trash, and start a new pot before dashing back out to the living room for your pack of cigarettes. Finn sits on the floor in front of Dean and Sam who are both fully dressed now and sipping their coffee.

"It's fine, I'm making a new pot.." You say reaching down between the couch cushions for your lost lighter.

"Sorry…" Dean calls from behind his mug. "...didn't mean to finish it on you." 

Dean takes a long dramatic sip with a long smack at the end and Sam chuckles in his seat, clearly amused with the cartoons playing on the TV.

"Oh here.." Dean says, patting himself up searching for something in his jacket.

He extends his hand out, with his treasured vintage zippo extended towards you.

"Oh…thanks, but.." You stand before him with your finally recovered; plastic pink lighter in hand. 

You light your cigarette and pull down the towel from your head marching back off towards your bedroom. 

"Finn, try and use the bathroom before we go, please!" You shout from your room. “And change…you cant wear pjs to school!”

You slick some mascara on your lashes and dollop your armpits in some cheap ladies antiperspirant. You smear on some chapstick and brush through your hair just in time for Finn to appear at your doorway; eager and ready for the day as usual. You crouch down a bit, and plant a big sloppy kiss on his cheek before ruffling his hair into place.  

"Alright, you ready!?" You ask gleefully.

Back out towards the living room yet again you snatch Finn's lunchbox and stuff a snack pack, some knock off veggie chips, an apple, and a tiny water bottle into the black and yellow batman lunch box. 

Sam and Dean stand, looking towards you as you throw your purse over your shoulder and step into your flip flops. You help Finn with his backpack and turn back to face the two men.

"I'll be back in like 30..." You say, remembering to grab your pack of cigarettes and lighter off the coffee table.

"Y/N…do you…is there anything we can do?..." 

"No you're fine, I'll be right back!" You tell them frantically, peering down at your phone.

Sam elbows Dean, who tries to hold back the scoff, turning towards you.

"..I can take the kid.." Dean says as he clears his throat.

"...In ‘baby’!?" You ask with a snicker.

They peer out the window, then back towards each other. 

"..No, we'll be fine, don't worry about it." You tell them again.

They both sigh and you turn towards the door ushering Finn out.

"Y/N, we can help, just tell us what to do.." Sam says calmly in his reassuring tone.

The door is only ajar when you stop; sighing a deep breath before closing your eyes for a quick moment. 

"Okay, fine.. go do the…dishes or something.." You reply before shutting the door behind you.

"Dude, I don't remember her being this…this.." 

"Give her a break, Dean." Sam says with a long exhale. "She's a mom, now, and, …she's doing the best she can.."

~~~~

You bite your lip sitting at the red traffic light watching the clock tick onward in the dash. 

"Come on…Friday…you can do this.." You mumble under your breath through a deep sigh.

You dig your nails into the back of the pleather steering wheel as you sit agitated in your seat.

"Mom?" Finn asks from the back seat.

"Yeah, bud?" You reply, peering towards him in the rear view.

"...where's my homework folder?"

You roll your eyes as another deep breath courses through you.

"..probably on the kitchen floor where you left it…" You reply regrettably. 

The light finally blinks green and you roll out through the intersection. The crossing guard waves you on into the line up beside the school, and you park the car before jumping out and opening the back door for Finn. 

"It's alright, it's Friday we'll get your homework to Mrs. Barnes Monday morning, okay?" 

Finn hops out with a frown on his face. You straighten his hair once again and help him loop his arms through the straps of his backpack. You kneel down eye level to him and peer up into his bright little blue eyes.

"It's Friday!" You cheer quietly to him. 

He casts you a small, meek smile.

“Mom, can I stay with you this weekend?” Finn asks with a slight heartbreaking frown.

“No, babe, it's daddy's weekend, you know that..” You tell him apologetically.

“Just tonight then?” he pleads. “Just to say bye to Uncle Sam and Dean?”

You sigh, unable to give him an answer you or he wants to hear.

“Please?” 

You bite back your bottom lip peering up into his sad little blue eyes.

“...We’ll see them again. We always do..” you huff in a regrettable tone.

“It’s not fair!” Finn protests angrily. “Why does dad have to ruin everything!?” 

“Hey, come on…it’s not his fault…”

You stand back up pecking a kiss on top of his head and usher him down the sidewalk towards the front of the school.  

"I'll see you Sunday!" You call cheerfully, as he angrily strides towards the front door.

You stand with your arms crossed watching, making sure he disappears between the two giant blue doors before you allow your gaze to drop.

You sigh as you regrettably sulk back towards the car, recalling what you told him; ‘we’ll see them again..’  hopefully…  

You shake the thought from your head. The sun is already beating down at full force under the bright blue skies as you pluck the doors handle and seat yourself against the driver's seat.  You turn the key and flip the AC on; its cool air blasts against your face as you shift the car into reverse.  You back out and head towards the wretched red light that never allows you a free pass. You stare off into the opposite direction of traffic and wait patiently; when your phone rings. You fish around in the passenger side seat for the vibrating brick and click the green answer button.

"Hello?..."

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