#SPN Reader Insert

[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...

Pairing: Baby!Dean x reader

Word Count: 4,500ish

Warnings: language

“Nice job, Sam,” you said, Sam sighing in relief.

“I think she was trying to hex me before I put her down,” said Sam, shaking his head. You hummed, glancing around and pursing your lips. “Where’s Dean?”

“We split up. I thought he came back to you,” you said.

“I thought he was with you,” said Sam. You both took off in opposite directions, combing through different rooms of the house. You were in the kitchen when you heard a baby start to cry somewhere. You opened a door and saw it go down to a basement. You had your gun out, following the sound as it got louder, finding an infant shouting it’s head off in the middle of the room.

“S’okay, baby,” you said, shoving your gun away and picking him up off the cold floor. “You’re alright. The witch is gone and...”

You noticed a lump of clothes nearby, Dean’s navy jacket and his gun in the pile. You stared at the six month old in front of you, wet green eyes staring at you.

“No, baby. No, you aren’t...” you said, the baby scrunching up his face before he was crying again. “Dean?”

He stilled for a moment, recognizing his name but he started crying again and burrowed himself into your jacket collar.

“Okay. It’s okay. We’ll fix it Dean. Stop crying baby. We’ll fix it.”

“Sam,” you said, sitting in the backseat of Baby with Dean an hour later, Sam trying to install a baby seat in the back. “Sam! Hurry up!”

“What?” said Sam, glaring at you, Dean shouting even louder. “Dean! Stop crying!”

“Don’t shout at him, he’s a baby,” you said. “Get that damn seat together so he can get some sleep.”

“He’s shouting his head off and it’s not exactly helping,” said Sam, fiddling with a strap. You managed to get Dean in a diaper, any attempts at finding an adult stuck in that tiny body not resulting in anything beside Dean recognizing his name. “Put him in some clothes. He’s probably cold.”

“Well hand me the bag with the onesie’s in it then,” you said, Dean yelling some more. “Dean, baby. Please calm down.”

“I got it,” said Sam, clipping something in place. He took Dean from you and got an earful, Sam strapping Dean in as he kicked his legs. “Dude. Relax. Here.”

Sam leaned into the front seat and grabbed a bag, shoving a little blanket over Dean and tucking it in, Dean calming right down and conking out like a light.

“Finally,” said Sam, grabbing the bag and shoving it in the back. “Let’s get home so we can get this figured out.”

“Hi Dean,” you said softly the next morning, Dean grabbing his toes in the makeshift crib you’d made out of a laundry basket. “Good morning.”

He scrunched up his face as you caught the smell, wiping at your nose.

“Okay so you’re really like a baby,” you said, picking him up and setting him on your bed. You got a towel under him and some wipes, gagging when you plucked off the diaper. Dean wasn’t crying so far which was an improvement but he got red in the face when you tried to put a fresh one on. “Dean, you have to wear it.”

He tried to pout and you sat next to him, running a hand over his head.

“Agg!” he said, kicking his feet.

“Are you an adult in there?” you asked. Dean seemed to ignore you, staring up at the ceiling. “Or do you really think you’re a baby?”

“Neither,” said Sam, knocking on the door frame as he came in. “I figured out the spell. He’s a baby in most senses of the word. He likely only remembers us as family and that we’ll take care of him. But he’s not arguing that he doesn’t want to wear a diaper because he’s adult Dean. He just doesn’t want to wear one right now...I think.”

“How long is he going to be like this?” you said, Dean grabbing hold of your finger and sucking on it. Sam swallowed and stared at his feet. “Sam.”

“...Six months,” said Sam.

“Six fucking months!” you said, Dean dropping your hand and starting to cry. “Sam we can’t take care of a baby for six months. We’re damn hunters.”

“We’ll have to figure something out,” said Sam.

“I don’t know how to take care of him though,” you said. “I can change a diaper but I don’t know how to feed him or-”

“We’ll buy some parenting books I guess,” said Sam, staring at Dean. “I have some other news you won’t be happy about.”

“What?” you said.

“Jody called. She needs backup on a hunt,” said Sam.

“One of us has to stay here with him,” you said.

“Can you stay?” said Sam. “I ran out this morning and got more stuff for Dean but...he doesn’t cry as much around you.”

“Fine but if I call you better answer your phone. Better yet, give it to Jody, she was a mom,” you said.

“I know,” said Sam, walking inside, putting a hand on Dean’s head. “Be good for Y/N. We’ll try to figure out how to make this as painless as possible.”

By the time you got Dean in a diaper and a onesie, Sam had already headed out. You carried Dean on your hip to the kitchen, finding the jars of baby food and instant formula Sam had bought, Dean giggling as you sat him in a high chair at the counter.

“Well you sound like you’re in a better mood,” you said with a smile, picking up the different jars, finding some sweet potatoes and swirling it up before you set it in front of Dean. You turned around and grabbed a frozen breakfast sandwich from the freezer, tossing it in the microwave.

“Afba agah uf,” said Dean. You turned around, Dean staring at the jar and then you.

“I’m so sorry, you can’t feed yourself,” you said, shaking your head as your grabbed the little spoon and held it to his mouth. “Go ahead, Dean.”

Dean shook his head, pointing at the sandwich you were making.

“No, that’s adult food Dean. You can’t have that,” you said. Dean blinked at you slowly and you swore you saw an eye roll in there. “Dean...are you really a baby?”

He shook his head again, your eyes wide.

“Okay. After breakfast, I’m going to look into that spell Sam found some more. Maybe he missed something,” you said. Dean stared at you, blinking a few times.

Then he spit up all over himself.

“Did you just throw up?” you said, Dean shaking his head again. “Do you have any idea what I’m saying?”

Dean shook his head, patting his hand on his tray.

“Oh course not. Well...might as well feed you like this in case you make another mess.”

“Dude,” you said, Dean giggling on the floor of the bathroom. “You got potato in my hair. I don’t even…”

Dean laughed as he looked up at you, shirt covered in baby food.

“I’m glad you find this hilarious,” you said, peeling off your shirt. You grabbed the little tub meant for washing babies one and under and filled it with warm water. Dean wasn’t sure what to make of it when you sat him in it but he started splashing and he had a big smile on his face.

You used way too much soap, accidentally squirting an adult size amount in your hand but Dean didn’t mind that you had to dump out his soapy water for fresh. When you finished with him, you wrapped him up in a big towel, Dean leaning back in the thing and practically falling asleep on the bathroom floor. You kept an eye on him as you took a quick shower, Dean still passed out once you took care of yourself.

“I really hope this doesn’t take six months.”

Dean’s POV

Pretty much the only reason I wasn’t shouting was because it freaked Y/N out. I’d tried earlier in the day to make her understand that I was a full fledged adult trapped in an infants body and she’d almost caught on but she misunderstood. Throwing up was inevitable with how awful that baby food crap tasted and now we were back to square one.

I didn’t want to act like a baby. I didn’t feel like a baby. But stuff just happened on its own. One minute I’m sitting there, the next I’m wrapped up in a towel in the bathroom with no idea what happened in between.

Y/N was drying herself off after her shower, giving me cautious glances every few seconds while I sat there. Fuck, this was awful.

“What’s with the grumpy face?” she asked, kneeling down next to me. “Do you have to go potty? Do you want your diaper on again?”

Diaper? I’d worn a diaper already? Oh hell no. I was not dealing with that for a day let alone six months.

“Okay, okay,” she said, shushing me and picking me up. I tried to squirm but she sighed and started to walk out of the bathroom and to our room. She threw her towel down on the bed and put me on top, moving around the room before she pulled out a baby shirt. It wasn’t a onesie at least but I would have preferred something with less fire trucks.

She set it it down next to me, cocking her head before she ripped off the tag and undid the bottom clasps, a sigh out of me making her smile.

“Well they didn’t have any black or flannel so we had to settle for the trucks. Unless you wanted kittens and puppies,” she said with a smile. I shook my head, Y/N, laughing. “I know, you want some clothes on. One second little dude.”

She turned around again, dropping something on the other side of the bed I couldn’t see.

Next thing I knew I was being picked up by the legs and when I sat back down, there was something soft there.

“I am not wearing one of those!” I shouted, the words translating to some sort of very loud and high pitched shriek. Y/N blinked a few times and rubbed her ears. I yelled at her again that at least I had control over that function thank God. At least I was pretty sure I did.

“Do you think this is fun for me?” she said, hands on her hips. “Please stop screaming at me. I have to do this.”

She sounded so...off. So already beaten down. I closed my eyes and relented. Maybe after a little while she’d figure out I didn’t need it and we’d figure out some kind of bathroom signal.

God this was going to suck.

Eight Hours Later

“Dean, you haven’t gone to the bathroom all day,” she said, cocking her head at me after dinner, kneeling next to the crib she was forcing me to sleep in. “Are you sick?”

I grumbled at her, trying to say I really had to take a leak and she hadn’t gotten a single message that I was this close to losing it.

“Do you have a fever?” she asked, putting her hand on my forehead. “Sam bought one of those baby thermometers I think.”

“I need to take a piss! That’s what’s wrong!” I said, glaring at her as she stood up.

“Again, screaming does not help,” she said, looking around the room. “Just...stay right there. I’m gonna go see if it was the food I gave you.”

She walked out of the room and I about lost it. I couldn’t get out of this damn thing without help and I was not going to…

“You’re fucking kidding me,” I said, glaring at my lap. “Stupid infant body and I only went because my body forced it and Y/N! Get me out of this thing!”

Y/N came rushing back in at my screams, frowning when she saw how mad I was.

“Oh, you went!” she said. “Maybe you were just shy.”

“Shy my ass!” I shouted, pointing at my lap, instead whacking myself in the leg.

“You’re a very angry baby,” she said, picking me up and moving me over to the changing table she set up. I was glad to be out of the wet one but I most certainly was not going back in one.

I kicked when she tried to move me again, hitting her in the face.

“Ow. Dean,” she said, holding her hand over her nose, pulling it away and a little trickle of blood coming out. She wiped it away with a tissue but more came out.

And for some reason I had to start sniffling. Of fucking course. Did I feel bad? Yes. But it was not a cry worthy occasion and now she was picking me up and telling me it was okay.

“Calm down. It was an accident,” she said, rubbing up and down my back. “I still love you, Dean.”

I leaned back as best I could to look at her, Y/N smiling at me.

“I’m gonna take care of you,” she said. “Just like I know you’d take care of me if I got stuck as a baby.”

“Y/N,” I groaned.

“Okay, okay. I know the diaper pisses you off. How about we make a deal? Daytime, no diaper. I’ll take you every couple of hours to the bathroom. But if we have to go out or at night, you have to wear it, just because you might have to go and I can’t get you to one in time,” she said. “First accident though and it goes on all the time. Agree?”

I nodded, that plan sounding much better.

“I wonder how much of you is an adult in there…” she said. “You can hold it I’m guessing...maybe that’s why you hated your baby food.”

I made a face, Y/N laughing at me.

“Okay. As soon as your teeth come in, you can have some fruit and other stuff,” she said.

I frowned, rubbing my hand up to my mouth, wincing when I realized she had a point.

“Don’t worry babe. Your teeth will start to come in soon I’m sure.”

“Sup Dean?” said Sam, smiling at me when he finally came home. I wanted to yell at him to go give Y/N a break but I hadn’t quite figured out how to spit out the pacifier in my mouth yet.

“Oh, let him watch his cartoons. He’s starting to teeth and that pacifier is his new best friend,” she said.

I narrowed my eyes at her, Y/N giving it right back.

“Is that a potty face?” you asked. I shook my head, Sam wearing a big smile. “Don’t get your hopes up. Being able to hold it and an affinity for pie flavored foods are the only adult things I’ve been able to concretely confirm.”

“It’s only been a week,” said Sam, sitting down next to me. I rolled my eyes, trying to shift away but he pulled me into his lap. “You hanging in there?”

“I hate this. I hate you. I hate everything,” I mumbled under the pacifier, Sam chuckling as he bounced me on his knee.

“He doesn’t like that,” said Y/N, Sam pulling me off his knee to lay back in lap instead. “So how was the hunt?”

“A pain. I’m glad to be back,” said Sam, stretching back on the floor.

“Uh, be careful with him,” said Y/N.

“I’m just taking a quick nap,” said Sam.

“She’s worried about you crushing me, doofus,” I mumbled, Sam sighing as he sat up with me. He picked me off the ground, way higher than Y/N did and I instantly clung to him. The pacifier fell out of my mouth when my jaw dropped, something I’d have to try to remember, and Y/N was instantly over.

“Give him here,” she said, Sam handing me off, Y/N bending down to grab the pacifier and give it back to me. “He got scared. New stuff you have to go slow.”

“He knows I wouldn’t hurt him,” said Sam.

“He knows but...like he goes full blown baby sometimes and you have to slow down. Most of the time he’s just grumpy and wants to watch TV,” she said. “There��s a learning curve to him.”

“Sorry,” said Sam. I sighed when Y/N handed me back but then I sort of liked it, getting to be tall again. “So...what do you do for fun, Dean?”

“Seriously? Jackass,” I mumbled, Sam tickling my stomach.

“That’s a cute little sound,” said Sam, cocking his head. “You smell funny.”

“He needs a bath,” you said, sitting on the couch. “Would you mind giving him one?”

“No!” I shouted, shaking my head, spitting out the pacifier again.

“Uh, does he not like baths?” asked Sam.

“No, it’s one of the few things he likes actually,” you said. “Do you want me to show Sam first?”

I sighed but nodded. Y/N needed the break and it wasn’t like I hadn’t done all this crap for Sam when he was little.

Ten minutes later I was in the tub, surprised at how gentle Sam was.

“Does he sleep through the night?” asked Sam, wiping a cloth down over my hair.

“He does. I don’t,” you said.

Oh boy. This again.

“Trying to research still?” asked Sam.

“Yeah. I’m paranoid something’s going to happen to him all the time and it’s my fault he’s stuck like this. I shouldn’t have let him go off by himself,” you said.

“Stop being stupid. I’m a grown man, or at least was. We did that hunt exactly how we were supposed to. By the way, I’m fine. I’ve started to figure out his crawling thing so don’t worry about me,” I said.

“What the blabbering little guy just said,” said Sam.

“You understood me?” I said, Sam seeming to ignore the comment. “Oh. You said blabbering. Don’t mind me. I’ll just sit here and make squeaking noises for your entertainment.”

“Someone is talkative today,” said Y/N, a relieved little smile on her face. “I’m happy Sam’s home too. But we should get you out before you get too pruny. Sam, you can learn the joy of getting him into his pajamas.”

“Oh, I can’t wait.”

The Next Day

“What happened?” said Y/N. Good. She was home and she could yell at Sam properly.

“He had an accident and then he started yelling and he got even louder when I put him in a diaper. He hasn’t been quiet since,” said Sam.

“Dean, I know we had a deal but you had an accident. I think you’re too little to-“

“It was his fault,” I yelled, pointing at Sam. “He forgot to...I will destroy you both if you-“

“When’s the last time you took him to the bathroom?” she asked Sam.

“I don’t know,” he said.

“Has he gone since I took him at breakfast?” she asked. Sam looked away and thankfully Y/N was getting with the program. “You have to take him Sam. Of course he had an accident. His bladder isn’t as big as yours.”

“I don’t get why he just doesn’t wear the diapers,” said Sam.

“I will kick your ass when I’m big again Sam,” I growled, Y/N settling me on her hip.

“He doesn’t like them and you upset him. This is a baby but it’s Dean too. If there’s a shred of adult in there, we’re going to try to make him feel like himself,” she said.

“Best fucking girlfriend ever. I so owe you,” I said, leaning down to give her a hug.

“Well...don’t piss on me again,” grumbled Sam.

“Maybe now you learned your lesson.”

Three Months Later

“Hi Dean,” said Y/N when I crawled over. “What’s up?”

“Guess what I figured out how to do,” I said, grabbing her leg and standing up, able to take a few shaky steps on my own before falling on my butt. “I’m mobile.”

“Well look at you! You’re growing up all over again,” she said, scooping me up to sit in her lap. “We made it halfway there. Just another few months and you’ll be big again.”

“Trust me, I’m counting the days. Figuratively I mean since telling time is a bit hard right now but you know what I mean,” I said, Y/N humming. “Uh oh. That’s the bad hum.”

“Don’t worry, Dean,” she said. “Sammy’s just checking on a last ditch effort. I’m not getting my hopes up is all. Besides, you and I are going to have my favorite thing right now.”

“It’s nap time,” I said, grunting when I started to get carried. “At least this part isn’t too bad.”

Something was off when I woke up twenty minutes later. Y/N had her head in her hands and was crying on the bed.

“Sam,” she said into her phone. “You said six months.”

“Rowena is going to work on a counterspell to get it to reverse back,” he said.

“But she only has three months left or else he’s gonna he a baby permanently. I don’t want to raise my boyfriend. I’m barely keeping it together,” she said.

“Rowena is the best witch there is. She’ll figure out what the other witch did,” said Sam. “Just try not to let Dean see you upset or he’ll think something’s wrong.”

“Too late for that,” she said, moving her hands away, looking over at me with a sigh. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“So I’m fucked,” I said, trying to cross my legs in the crib but making no progress. “Fuck.”

“Dean,” she said. She picked me up and gave me a hug, wiping her face off when she pulled back. “Don’t worry. I will always take care of you. Big or small.”

“I really hope Rowena can figure this out.”

Three Months Later (Almost)

“Big day today Dean,” said Y/N, rubbing her hand over my head.

“Yeah. In about an hour I’m a baby for good and I’m sort of thinking that means I’m going full baby mode and I’m gonna forget everything and everyone and how to even talk…” I said, Y/N shushing me.

“Don’t cry. I hate seeing you cry,” she said. “And if things go south today...don’t be scared because we got you.”

“How’s he holding up?” asked Sam, Y/N giving him a sad smile. “He has to understand if he’s so upset.”

“I know. I know part of him is an adult in there,” said Y/N. “Rowena’s in the library sweetie and she’s going to keep working as long as we got left.”

“I think I’ve got it,” said Rowena, rushing into the kitchen. “I need materials though.”

Sam took off with her, both of them taking far too long in my opinion. Y/N eventually plopped me down in the high chair in the library, Rowena shoving a mixture in a bowl at Y/N.

“He has to drink it,” she said.

“Dean, don’t throw this up,” said Y/N, tilting the bowl, some of it dribbling down my face. “Get a damn bottle. Now!”

“Come on. At least a sippy cup, not the stupid bottles again,” I grumbled, Y/N taking one from Sam, pouring the slop inside and twisting the cap on.

“For once, do not fuss with this thing,” she said, putting the bottle to my lips. I wanted to scoff at her but she squeezed it and liquid flooded my mouth. It tasted awful and she just kept squeezing more in, forcing me to swallow. I drank most of the bottle down as a timer went off, all three of them jumping about a foot back.

I peeled open an eye, bottle hanging from my mouth and ass currently sat on the floor and pieces of broken high chair.

“Dean?” asked Sam. I spit the bottle out and stood up, blinking down at myself.

“Excuse me but I’ve had to piss the last two hours,” I said, moving past them all for the bathroom, ripping the obnoxious baby outfit off and sitting down. “Oh, I never thought I’d be so happy to be using the bathroom again.”

Reader POV

“Hey, Dean?” you said, walking into the bathroom, Dean currently walking around the space in a pair of boxers, happy as could be. “You doing okay? All adult in there again?”

“Yes. Thankfully,” said Dean. “I’m just enjoying things like brushing my own teeth and shaving and oh yeah, I can actually talk again.”

“So how much-”

“I understood everything. I acted a lot like a baby whether I wanted to or not but I understood it all,” said Dean. “Thank you so fucking much for not making me use the damn diapers.”

“Well...I figured there was some of you in there,” you said. “Sorry about the bottles. And baby food. And pacifier. And the onesies.”

“Eh, they grow on you,” he said with a shrug. “I wasn’t a very well behaved baby.”

“You kept out of trouble for the most part,” you said, wrapping your arms around him, so glad to have him back to his normal size.

“I want a burger and steak and sweet potato fries,” said Dean.

“Okay. You can have all that,” you said with a laugh. “You can even drive to the store if you want.”

“Oh, I am looking forward to it.”

[supernaturalfreewill]

"Hey! That's my shirt!" Dean said, watching you slip the soft cotton of his t-shirt on over your head. It swallowed up your frame and left you with slightly tousled hair.

You bit your bottom lip and grinned at him. "So?"

He sat up in bed, the sheet still swirled around his hips. You let your eyes wander over his strong chest. "So, that's why all my clothes keep disappearing. Do you have that green flannel too?"

"Maybe," you smiled innocently. "You like how they look on me anyway," you said, revolving in place so Dean could see just how his t-shirt brushed your thighs from all angles.

He sighed and clicked his tongue. "I can't argue with that... but I would like them back eventually."

You shrugged, carefree. "You can file your complaint in the suggestion box," you said cheekily.

Dean chuckled. "Oh yeah? Where's that?"

"Oh, it's that gray bin over there by my desk, next to the recycling can..."

"Alright, that's enough sass. Gimme back my shirt and get back in bed!" Dean demanded through more laughter, reaching for you. You tried to dart away, out of reach of his long arms, but he was too fast and soon tugged you back into the bed right on top of him.

[sams-sass]

Remembrance of Things Past

Hi!!

I actually wrote a Dean fic...like what? I hope you enjoy! Special shout out to all my bunker babes for the confidence boost!!

Warnings: Langauge, smut, a wee bit of heartbreak?

Summary: You and Dean find each other again.

_____________________________

The motel door slammed shut behind Dean’s back, loud and heavy. He turned to face you; his eyes were emotionless, and his jaw tightened. 

“So you’re not coming?” He asked you. 

“Please, Dean…I can’t,” You said softly. 

He ran his hand down his face and nodded, looking at the wall before connecting his eyes to yours again. 

“Well, that’s just great, Y/N.” His voice was like venom. 

“Try to understand…I just…I can’t watch…” Your voice betrayed you, breaking as the lump in your throat grew. 

You stepped toward him, taking his leather jacket into your fists as you pressed your body against his. You leaned your forehead against his cheek, inhaling his intoxicating scent. He pushed your hands off him, shaking his head and stepping away. 

“You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to fuck with my head.” He spat. 

“It’s too much.” You whispered, crossing your arms over your chest and squeezing yourself. 

“And how the fuck do you think I feel? It’s too much for you? I’m the one who made the deal. I’m the one who's gonna-” Dean stopped, leaning on the small desk in the corner and hanging his head. 

You stepped toward him again, raising your hands to lay on his back. Dean instinctively moved away from you, jolting his body to the side to avoid your touch. You held your hands up for a moment before lowering them again, and this time, Dean let you touch him. Swallowing thickly, you ran your hands over his jacket, trying to calm the situation as best you could. 

“I’m sorry.” You said finally, speaking loud enough to know he would hear you. 

“I would stay for you.” He mumbled. 

At that moment of rare fragility, you knew you had broken down at least one of his walls. The truth was, you didn’t care about him opening up to you. You didn’t need to hear him say how he would stick it out until the end or move heaven and earth to be by your side when the time came. You knew this. You knew he would extend a devotion to you that you weren't giving him, and you hated yourself for it. Your hands slipped under his jacket and the fabric of his shirt. His back was warm as you ran your touch over his freckled skin. A ragged and heavy breath left his lungs. He glanced up at you, making eye contact in the mirror. His body turned to face you, your hands now resting against his bare stomach. Placing his forehead against yours, he closed his eyes. 

“Please stay.” He whispered. 

“I love you…so much. But I can’t watch you die.” You answered, feeling him pull away again. 

Dean took both of your hands into one of his, yanking them from under his shirt but keeping you close to him. He looked deep into your eyes, his sage ones glassy and red. 

“Thanks a lot, kid.” He said, his voice coming from low within his chest. 

He walked away from you, pulled the door open, and stopped in the doorframe. You watched as his shoulders moved with heavy breaths before he turned back around. He crossed the motel room in three giant steps and grabbed your face between his hands. His lips attached themselves to yours before you could even breathe. His kiss was full of passion and fear. You could feel the vulnerability in every swipe of his tongue. He dug his hands into your hair, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You wrapped yourself around him and clung onto the last thing you would carry of him. Committing every breath, taste, and moan to memory as you let yourself fall into him just one last time. 

Suddenly, he stopped. Leaning his head against yours once again. You both held each other in the silent space momentarily before his broken, husky voice whispered. 

“Don’t forget me.” 

You nodded your head, feeling your chin begin to quiver. He was gone just as fast as he had come back to you. The door slammed on its hinges, and you were utterly alone. 

Two Years Later

The warehouse was void of life as you expertly moved around the halls. You rounded the corner, pulling the gun closer to your chest and breathing. A soft shuffle made your hair stand on edge. Leaning against the wall, you ventured a peak into the next room. A tall man stood with a gun of his own, his brown jacket grazing against his jeans as he crept around toward the back of the room. You held in the gasp that filled your lungs, closing your eyes and mentally cursing yourself. You could run for it. Fly as fast as your feet could take you towards the exit. You could wait him out. Or you could…and before you knew what you were doing, you walked into the room.

“Sam?” You said, disbelief in your voice. 

He whipped his head around, aiming his gun perfectly at you. A look of shock, confusion, and anger crossed his face. 

“Y/N?” He asked, lowering his gun quickly. 

You smiled at him, feeling years worth of memories swarm you in an instant. Your eyes began to fill with water when you heard the cocking of a gun. A cold shiver ran down your spine, your palms suddenly getting clammy. You let out all the air in your lungs. Every fiber of your being told you not to turn around. Don’t look. You held Sam’s eyes with your wide stare for a beat too long. Don’t you dare look. For the love of god, just run away. If you look at him, it’s all over. You turned slowly. 

Dean’s chiseled face sat emotionless, his gun mere inches from your head. You felt your mouth go dry, desperately trying to swallow saliva to keep yourself from coughing. Sage eyes locking with yours for the first time in so long. You almost cried out in joy. Your mouth opened and closed again. Eyes blinking and heart racing, you wrapped your hand around the gun as well, stepping towards him as he lowered it to his side. You were so close to him, his face impassive as he looked down at you. Your chest was just a breath away from his. His body was stiff and unmoving. Slowly, you tilted your head back to look at him better. He glared down at you with hard eyes.  

“Dean.” You said, trying to keep your voice as steady as possible. 

“Y/N.” His voice was low and rough. 

You let go of the gun and stepped back, nervously scratching behind your ear. The awkward feeling settled over the three of you thickly. 

“So…you’re also after the ghoul,” Sam said, shoving his hands into his pockets. 

“Yeah, been trailing it for a few days now,” You said, keeping your eyes on Sam. 

You missed him—sweet and soft, Sammy. You missed how he would gently knock on your door in the morning. You missed his warm scent when he placed his arm around your shoulders and pulled you close after one too many beers. You missed how he always remembered to put precisely 2 and 1/2 teaspoons of sugar into your coffee. While researching, you would look up and swear you saw him sitting on the end of your bed with his nose in a book. You had almost forgotten how tall he was or how his dimpled smile could make you forget about the world momentarily. You missed your friend. 

“Well, we’ll take it from here. Thanks for the interruption.” His voice spoke. Your eyes slowly shifted to Dean. His angular face was stoic and harsh, the sporadic lighting of the warehouse casting shadows on the deep contours of his cheeks and nose. 

To say that you had missed Dean in the same way that you had missed Sam would practically be an insult. It was more than just missing him. It was a deep and guttural longing that had you curled under the covers, unmoving and unfeeling for days after he left. There was no way to decide what you missed most. Was it his warm breath against your back on slow mornings after a hunt? Lips and hands drawing an absent pattern across your sore muscles and tired skin. Was it his long fingers intertwining through yours as the Impala tore down a dirt road, the sunlight bouncing off its black paint? Or perhaps it was how his expressive jade eyes would always find yours first. On every case. Every hunt. Every monster. Those earthy pools of warm waters full of lilypads and speckled flowers holding your gaze, reading your mind, and drowning your sorrows. Or it could be when he smiled with his eyes—saying your name and touching your face with the tips of his fingers? Maybe it was the nights where you gave yourself to him and he you? Minds fold to the intensity of the body's pleasure. Arms and legs wrapped around each other so tight, as if the other person would explode into a thousand pieces at any moment. With hungry lips and a thirsty tongue. Allowing all to be explored. All to be sacrificed and exposed. Although you couldn't pinpoint it, you knew it was when he told you he loved you. When he dropped the act and let himself feel the world. In those moments, he could choose to feel the bad. The ache. The hurt. But he would choose to feel you. To tell you he loved you. The soft words in your ear, his breath playing with your hair gently. His hands circling your wrists, feeling your quickening pulse against his skin. 

“I-” You started, not knowing where you were going with your sentence. 

“You what?” Dean cut you off. “You wanna work this together? Like old times?” He asked, his voice full of anger and hurt. 

“Dean…” Sam tried to calm his brother down. 

“No, Sammy. I want to hear what she has to say after all this time.” Dean's voice shifted to one of controlled arrogance. But you knew him. You knew how much pain he was trying to mask. 

“Look, I know you hate me. To be honest, I hate me too sometimes…I had no idea you were going to be here. Honest.” You said, holding up your hands and stepping back when Dean approached you. 

“Right. So, like I said, we’ll take it from here.” Dean said, pointing his finger between him and Sam. 

Suddenly, you felt angry. You didn't know where it was coming from, but you saw red, and your “calm, cool, and collected” attitude began slipping away. 

“What? No! I was here first. I was the one who found this place by myself, might I add. The only reason I even got distracted was because of Sam’s huge, clunking feet.” You argued. 

Sam tilted his head, letting his face fall into one you had seen so many times before. The bitch face. 

“You know, you could always be a brat when you wanted to,” Dean said, stepping towards you. 

“I recall you liking that, Winchester.” You countered, stepping towards him, too. 

“Funny.” He said, his voice dropping deep within his chest. “I don’t recall much.” 

“Neither do I.” You practically whispered. 

“I thought I told you not to forget.” He said with authority. 

“And I thought you would have learned a long time ago. I don’t always follow your orders.” You retorted. 

In that moment, you saw something pass through his eyes. A memory long forgotten and put away resurfaced. His cheeks flushed slightly. His eyes lowered to your breasts, holding his gaze there for a beat before following the curves of your neck to your mouth. Your lips parted, allowing a small breath to escape. Dean sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, dragging his teeth across the plump flesh before it popped back out. Pink and wet. 

“Come on, Sam. I could use the sleep anyway.” And with that, they were gone again. 

Because of your little production with Dean, the ghoul was long gone by the time you found its hideout. You repacked your car and slammed the trunk, throwing out every curse word you knew into the windshield as you drove away. You rolled your window down and let the night air cool your heated flesh. The moonlight couldn't hide the memories that saturated your mind. It was as if double doors opened, and everything you had put behind you came raging into focus. Hearing his thick voice say your name made your time with the Winchesters play out in front of your eyes. You and Sam reading over books at a diner table, plates and cups littering the space. You and Dean counting down before jumping into the swarm of vamps together. Sam’s hair blowing in the passenger seat. Dean’s groggy voice in the morning. Dean holding Sam’s shoulders as he has yet another vision. Dean smiling at you, a smear of blood covering his freckles. Dean clanking his beer against yours. Sam laughing over the jukebox of some dive bar. Dean pulling you close and burying his face into your hair after a particularly long hunt. Sam pushing you behind him as the wendigo approached. Dean slipping his fingers under your shirt, tickling your skin. Dean sneaking into the shower with you when you were trying to keep your relationship a secret. Dean whispering “I love you” for the first time in an empty field under the stars. Dean running his fingers through your hair while a movie played on the T.V. Dean giving your hand a squeeze before charging at a ghost. Dean holding your face in his hands, blood spattered across your skin. Dean pulling you into him in his sleep. Dean stitching up your wounds in the motel room. Dean kissing you in the back of the impala. Dean. Dean. Dean. 

Fuck! You slammed your car into park and charged into your motel room. Your fingers ran through your hair frantically as your heart rate picked up. Your feet paced quickly across the room, heavy breaths pulling in and out of your lungs. Just as you were about to collapse, a knock on the door stopped you. You knew it was him. You closed your eyes and swallowed down your anxieties. 

You opened the door to his angry face. 

“How did you find me?”

“I remembered you liked the nicer things.” Dean pointed to the motel sign. 

You nodded, pursing your lips together.  

“Tell me what happened,” Dean instructed. 

“You know what happened.” You said around a sigh. 

“Ya know…I thought I did.” His arrogant voice was back. “But the more I think about it, the more it doesn't make sense,” Dean said, coming close to you. 

“I think you and I have had enough for one night.” You said, trying to close the door. 

Dean’s open palm stopped the door from moving further, “I’ll say when I have had enough.” 

“Dean-” You began to protest again. 

He pushed into the door, crowding your space and entering your room. 

“Come on in.” You mumbled sarcastically. 

“I don’t know what you think you are going to solve by bothering me.” You tried to play annoyed. 

“How about the fact that it came out of fucking nowhere?” Dean said, holding his arms out to his sides. “I mean really. One day you are telling me you love me and that you can’t imagine your life without me, and the next-” Dean stopped himself. 

“I’m breaking your heart.” You filled in the rest. He nodded, holding your gaze as he did. 

“It’s like I said, I couldn’t watch you die.” You responded as emotionless as you could. 

“Bullshit. I gave you an out in Lincoln. I told you to go. I told you to get as far away from me as possible. To live your life and leave me to suffer the consequences of my actions. And you stayed. You said you would never leave me. And not two weeks later…your fucking gone.” He dropped the arrogance, his voice now full of confusion and anguish.  

He was right. That is precisely how it played out. 

“Tell me what happened.” He asked again. 

“I did.” 

“You didn’t,” 

“Dean” 

“Y/N.”

There he goes again. Saying your name with that wicked tongue. 

“Please-” Your voice breaking. 

“So there is more?” Dean asked, stunned. 

“I can’t.” You whispered. 

“You can.” There was no anger now. His shoulders dropped, and his face was left full of despair. 

Dean crossed over to you, took your wrists within his hands, and pinned you against the wall. He looked deeply into your eyes, searching for an answer. 

“Baby, tell me what happened.” He said one last time. 

“It was the angels.” You finally relented. 

“What?” His brow furrowed, and his eyes moved quickly between yours. 

“Well, one angel. Zachariah. He spoke to me.” You felt the tears fill your eyes. “He told me they would save you if I left. They said you would be spared from hell, but I had to leave. I had to get away from you.” You let the truth lay in front of him for the first time. 

“The angels? Why?” He was wide-eyed and horrified. 

“I don’t know. They said that if I left, you would be saved. I was so desperate, Dean. I was so scared you were going to die. I didn’t know what to do. So I left. I left like a coward, and I knew the only way you wouldn't come after me was if I broke you.” You breathed. Although it killed you to tell him, there was a sense of relief finally telling the truth after all this time. 

Dean stared at you, his face difficult to read. You let your eyes fall on his lips, plump and slightly agape. You felt his hands tighten around your wrists, and it shot you back to the last time he held you like this. You could hear the soft rain on the window and smell the coffee going cold on the nightstand. The skin of your neck tickled, remembering his hot breath groaning in your ear. Your fingers could practically feel the cheap comforter, his hands holding them down just like they were now. You bit down on your lip as you remembered the way he pushed into you, slow enough to tease but fast enough to make your legs shake. 

“Why didn't you come back after?” He finally asked, breaking you out of your memory.

“Because they lied to me. You still went to hell. How could I ever face you? How could I ever expect you to look me in the eyes again after I abandoned you? I can barely look at myself. I left you, Dean. I loved you so much. You were the air that I breathed. And I just fucking left. I could never ask you to understand.” You explained, your voice sounded wet from the tears. 

“Y/N…” He spoke, his body pressing into yours harder. 

You inhaled sharply, arching your back and allowing your head to loll back on your shoulders. Dean licked his lips, leaving a wet sheen on them. 

“I don't understand.” He said softly. 

“Understand what?”

“Why would they want you to leave? Why would it matter if you were with me or not?” He asked with a furrowed brow. 

“Because we knew you would never say ‘yes’ to Michael if you were clamored on to some chick.” A voice suddenly spoke. 

You and Dean broke apart, both clenching when startled. A man with balding grey hair stood in a black suit, a smile that made your mouth curl sat on his face. 

“Zachariah,” Dean practically growled. 

“Good to see you, Dean.” 

“Wish I could say the same.” 

“Well, now you know the big secret.” He said, shrugging his shoulders and turning down the corners of his mouth. 

“I always knew you were a son of a bitch, but now you’ve gone too far.” Dean stepped toward him, you could feel the hate in his voice. 

“You lied to me! He died anyway!” You screamed, coming to stand next to Dean. 

“No. No. I never lied. I said we would save him from hell, which we did. You simply heard what you wanted.” He said nonchalantly, as if he was describing what he ate for breakfast.

“That’s called manipulation, dick.” You shot back.

“Oh! Fiesty.” He held up his hand, pretending it was a claw. 

“I am going to say this one time.” Dean started, his arms pushed you slightly behind him as he moved toward Zachariah. “If you ever step foot near her again, I am going to rain down a world of hurt on you that you cant even imagine. You do not come near her again, do you understand me? Whatever you want to do to me is fine, but you leave her alone. All this bullshit, Michael, Lucifer, angels, demons, that’s your shit to clean. Not hers! And since Michael still wants to wear me like a fucking sock puppet, I suggest you listen to me and back the fuck off!” Dean thundered. 

You stared with eide eyes as he got closer and closer to the angel. Your breathing quickened and you nervously swallowed. You sat in a silent panic for his safety. 

“I may not have much in this world. Nothing but left overs from my father and his neverending crusade. But I have her. And I will die before I let you or any other winged bastard breathe near her again.” Dean’s voice was unnerving and low. 

“Jeez, give it a rest. When did we put on lifetime?” Zachariah asked without trying to hide his disdain. 

“Make your jokes, but don’t forget that I specialized in torture.” Dean practically whispered. 

Your heart skipped a beat, what? 

“Well, I do not pretend to know about coitus as I find it repulsive, but I have heard make up is the best!” Zachariah said with a gross mocking tone. 

“Don’t you fucking-” 

Zachariah was gone before Dean could finish his sentence. 

“Shit!” Dean yelled. 

His back was still to you. The air in the room was so thick it felt difficult to breathe. Your skin warmed under the tension. Just as you were about to speak, he turned. His face was hard and determined. You both stared at each other for a moment, trying to read the other person's mind. Dean acted first. He practically flew across the room back to you. His hands dug into your hair harshly, pulling your head back as a shocked moan left your mouth. Your mouth opened to his before he even kissed you. All teeth and tongue. Both relinquishing control and fighting for it at the same time. 

You and Dean had shared many kisses in your relationship: passionate, quick, raw, emotional, fast, and slow. This was different. It felt like an ache. It felt familiar and foreign at the same time. He kissed you like the ocean raged when a storm descended upon the land. His lips were out of rhythm and timing, but they still hit exactly where they needed to be. And like the warmed waters fueling the storm, you found yourself trying to grind your pelvis desperately into his, seeking any friction. 

Keeping one hand on the back of your head, he hooked his other around your thigh, yanking you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist, grabbing onto a fistful of his hair for yourself. He groaned into your mouth, twisting his tongue around yours. 

“I missed you so much.” You mumbled against his lips. 

“You’re the only thing I want.” He answered, pushing your back against the wall. 

His head dipped down. You squeezed your thighs around his waist as his teeth nipped at your neck and breasts. Using his hips and the wall to hold you in place, he undid the buttons of your shirt, opening it before taking your breasts in his hands. His thumbs stroked just above your bra while his mouth continued to suck and nip at your neck. He grabbed onto your hips again, his fingers digging into the globes of your ass. He threw you down on the bed, quickly crawling on top of you and reattaching his lips to yours. You undid the button on his jeans, hearing the sharp hiss as you palmed him through his boxers. He grabbed your hand and pulled it out of his pants, grabbing your other hand and pinning both above your head. His mouth found yours again, his teeth sinking into your bottom lip, pulling on it harshly.

“Don’t move.” He commanded. 

He left your hands above your head as his body lowered down yours. Teasing you by keeping his lips just hovering over your skin. His pointer finger dipped below the waist of your jeans, running it across your belly slowly. Your body was almost squirming as the anticipation built within your core. Your fingers twisted together when he opened the button on your jeans and yanked them down your legs. His mouth moved over your thighs, his hot breath fanning your skin. His teeth playfully pulled on your panties. His tongue teased you through the fabric. You lifted your head to look at him. God, you had missed this. That soft brown hair is just asking to be pulled. Those green eyes rolled back in his head as he decided he couldn't wait anymore, yanking your panties off you and taking you into his mouth. His freckled nose scrunched when he knew he had found a particularly good spot. And, of course, that mouth. Those lips and tongue, tasting every part of you. Dean ravaged you. Hooking your legs over his shoulders and lapping at your entrance, sucking and licking your clit. His breath was heavy, and his eyes closed. You were sure no one could paint a more beautiful image than Dean Winchester between your legs. 

Your first orgasm came quickly, taking both of you by surprise. Dean held you down with one forearm across your hips as he continued. Your hands were wrung together. You wanted to touch him so badly. Your body rapidly built up another orgasm. Dean kept you on the edge for this one, extending the pleasure but building the tension. By the time he let you tumble, you were covered in sweat and practically begging him. You couldn’t stand it anymore, and your hands flew to his head, yanking on his hair as your orgasm released throughout your body. He held you through it, moaning around your cries of pleasure. 

He came back to you, face to face. “I’ll let you have that one.” He said with a crooked smile. 

The tone shifted then, and a new reality settled over the two of you. Dean’s eyes softened to your favorite shade of them, the green grass of the first cold morning in fall. Fresh dew lay in a wet blanket over young blades, their mossy color diffused by clouds against the low-hanging sun. 

“You know I never stopped loving you, right?” You asked, running your fingers over his arm. 

“I do now.” He answered, pushing your hair away from your forehead to kiss your hairline. 

“I love you, Y/N. I’ve always loved you. When you were gone, no matter how hard I tried to deny it or how much I shoved it down, it was always there. You were always my girl.” His voice was thick with need and emotion. 

From that moment on, the night felt different. It was more than a reunion. It was more than hashing out old times. It was a vow. You both knew that marriage was not exactly in the cards for hunters, but this night was as close as the two of you would ever come. Words that should have been exchanged in a ceremony were written on each other's naked flesh with wet tongues and eager lips. Names that should have been signed on a document were inked onto each of your hearts through the whispered pleasure filling the air. And oaths that should have been pledged for all to hear were found in the dilating pupils of your locked eyes. 

Slow and passionate kisses turned heavy and deep as you recommitted yourselves to each other and your relationship. Dean's hands touched every part of you, dipping into all your crevices, tracing every scar and freckle. You tasted him, feeling the thick drag of him through your mouth, holding onto his deep groans of ecstasy. He pushed into you, spreading your legs with his before looking you in the eye as he filled you completely. His perfect rhythm brought you to your peak, grasping at his back and shoulders. You found yourself on top, rolling your hips over his, watching his teeth bite into his tongue to keep himself from crying out. His eyes open, showing his blown-out pupils, all traces of morning dew gone. Dean’s hands pressed into your hips so hard, moving you with him as he neared his own peak. Face to face, his fingers dragging down your back, you both fell together. 

Tangled in limbs and sheets, you let your beating heart slow to an average pace. Dean dreamily traced a pattern over your arm, occasionally kissing your forehead as dawn began to break. You didn’t say it and he didn’t ask, but you were never leaving his side again. Finally feeling safe in the arms of the man you loved, you let your eyes drift closed for a moment. You heard his breathing become slow and even, knowing he was also falling asleep. You smiled, healing yourself in the light of a new day before closing your eyes and sailing into a restful sleep.

Tagging: @thinkinghardhardlythinking @watermelonlipstick

[arjwrites]

The Space Between- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: GN!Reader breaks their arm on a hunt and needs a little assistance. This is a Dean version of my other fic Close (Sam x Reader), as requested by @the-scream-story !

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: Injury, nudity, strong references to sex. MDNI!

A/N: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE! I had so much fun writing this. This is officially the end of my writer's block- I am back in business, baby. I hope you all enjoy!!!

“DAMN IT!” Your voice echoed out of the bathroom from behind the closed door, punctuated with the contents of your toiletry bag crashing to the floor. Instantly regretful of your outburst, you prayed that no one had heard your voice above the dull whir of the bathroom fan and the rushing water cascading against the floor of the tub. The last thing you wanted was for one of the boys to come try to play the knight in shining armor to your damsel in distress.

After making some brief mental calculations, you figured Sam would still be out grabbing food, leaving only Dean in your shared motel room. There was no way he heard you, and even if he had, you doubted he would stir from his current position. When you had headed in for your attempted shower, the man was already reclined in a chair, beer in hand, and engrossed in some sub-par TV show. 

Attempted truly was the best word to describe the shower experience so far. Last night’s hunt had landed you with a broken arm, and a long wait at the ER had delayed your return to the motel into the wee hours of the next morning. At this moment, it was 4am and none of you had slept. And you, covered in a mix of dirt, and blood (yours and the creature’s), figured that a quick shower would be the best catalyst for sleep. 

But twenty minutes had passed since you had holed yourself up in the bathroom. There were several obstacles that sat between you and a warm, clean nap. Your dominant arm was confined to a cast, providing a myriad of challenges. First was getting off your clothes. Next was wrapping your cast with the ziploc bag and duct tape combo you had armed yourself with. Then was navigating your shower routine, somehow shampooing your hair and scrubbing blood off your body with your weak hand while trying to keep the other clear from the water. 

It was an impossible task, but asking for help was not necessarily your forte. Plus, you felt horrible having kept the boys up all night because of your injury. Of course, they waved you off, used to the sleepless nights, taking the late hours in stride and going about their usual post-hunt routines (Sam’s supply run and Dean’s beer and motel TV marathon). Though neither of them would ever admit it, you could see the exhaustion radiating off their every movement, and the guilt ate at you. The last thing you wanted to do was to ask either of them to do you any more favors.

But your hopes of soldiering on independently were crushed in an instant. In a valiant effort to singlehandedly take off your shirt, the tight fabric had become twisted over your head, covering your eyes and trapping your free arm against you. And when your balance was thrown off, you stumbled back, foot catching the shower curtain and bringing the tension rod down with a decisive bang. Shit. There was no way Dean hadn’t heard that. 

Your suspicion was quickly met with a firm knock on the bathroom door. 

“You alright in there?” Dean���s voice harbored no sign of annoyance, simply concern. So after a few deep breaths and a moment to wriggle your head free from its trap, you conceded to what seemed to be your only option.

“Dean, can you come in?” 

Nothing could have prepared Dean for the sight behind the door. There you sat, in a pile of shower curtain and shampoo bottles, one arm pinned to your head and the other pinned to your chest. The shower, still running and void of its curtain, had started to spray down on your fully clothed body, adding insult to injury. Dean’s mouth gaped open for a moment, searching for the words, eyes blinking as he took in the scene.

“Look, I need your help. Please don’t be weird about it. Can you just help me get this shirt off and then I’ll just wrap the cast and hop in-” Your nervous rambling was cut off as Dean lifted you from the floor and sat you down on the closed toilet seat. 

“Sweetheart, you’re not doing this by yourself. You’re gonna mess up that cast and I am not going back to that goddamn hospital.” You cringed at the memory of the long hours you, Sam, and Dean had spent under those horrible fluorescent lights. Though his remarks dripped in frustration, nothing about his appearance did- his eyes and lips were graced with the softest echoes of a smile.

You mumbled a few protests but Dean had already set right to work. In a few, swift movements, he had popped the shower curtain back into place, pulled it aside, plugged the drain, and shifted the source of the water down to the bathtub spout. When the water began to pool in the bottom of the tub, he turned back to you. 

“Dean, I really don’t need you to do this. I’ll be fine if I can just get this damn shirt off,” you huffed, punctuating your complaint with a few pulls at your restraint. This was exactly what you had feared, and it made it all the more embarrassing because it was Dean. You felt vulnerable and looked ridiculous, and here he was cleaning up your mess and drawing you a bath? Your nerves wound tightly in your stomach as Dean lowered himself to sit on the lip of the tub across from you. The tiny motel bathroom left little room between the two of you, and your knees brushed against each other in your seated positions. 

“You’re hurt and I’m helping you. Take it from me, you don’t need to pull the tough guy routine all the time. It’s not gonna help anyone.” It was as if the intensity of his eye contact had taken hold of your entire body. You were frozen in front of him, caught off guard and melting quickly as warmth swelled in your heart. This felt different than the usual Dean. In a way, him helping you in your vulnerabilities seemed vulnerable of him, too. And there was no denying your feelings for the man. In the short few years you had hunted with the brothers, you had developed a soft spot for the older Winchester that you had vowed to never let see the light of day. But your heart was beating hard and fast against your chest, because here he was, right in front of you, reaching in to unbutton your shirt…

You shook the thoughts from your head, recognizing the tenderness of the moment. Off came your shirt, which Dean haphazardly folded and placed on the counter. The intensity that buzzed between the two of you raged on unencumbered for a while. It made you nervous to look at him even a second longer, so you turned your gaze to your jeans, working at the button with your free hand. Dean sat back, letting you work for a moment, before stepping in to help and to dissolve the tension with a joke. 

“This might be the longest it’s ever taken someone to take their pants off for me,” he chuckled to himself as he popped the button free with ease.

Your head snapped up to him, your expression tinged with annoyance, but Dean didn’t miss the blush that tinged your cheeks and the smile that threatened to breach the surface. He knew you were unhappy with the situation, a bit anxious and uncomfortable, so he figured he would do what he did best- crack a few jokes. Plus, he had come so close to kissing you right then and there that he needed a way to distract himself. 

Dean always knew how to make you laugh. It was one of the things you liked most about him. So any nerves you had about being naked in front of Dean Winchester were easily melted away because you couldn’t help yourself from laughing the whole time. Like head-thrown-back, full-body-shaking laughter. What had started as a challenging and tense situation had boiled down to just simply hanging out with Dean. 

He had lowered you into the tub, you clinging to his arm for dear life, until you were sat down, the bubbles in the water providing you just the right amount of coverage to make you feel even more secure. Once you were settled in, Dean took a step back, sitting down to let you get to work. He knew you would want to retain a bit of independence, so he let you work on scrubbing whatever you could with the arm you had, only stepping in when you needed his help. The time was filled with conversation about the previous hunt, wonders about what Sam could possibly bring back for food at this hour, and plenty of shared laughter at Dean’s jokes. 

“So I see you don’t have a lifeguard here at your beach,” Dean said, taking on a dramatic tone as if he were playing a character. 

“Dean, what are you-” 

“No, no, no. You’re supposed to say, ‘I’m not at the beach, this is a bathtub.’” He wagged a finger at you as he corrected your response. 

“What the hell are you talking ab- Oh my God! DEAN!” Realizing the origin of the joke he was making, you used your free hand to splash him with the warm soapy water. But you couldn’t even feign frustration- your laughter gave you away. 

Things continued on like this for a while- you and your washcloth scrubbing dirt and blood from every corner of your skin, Dean cracking jokes, and occasionally stepping in to offer a hand.

“Look, let me do your hair for you. How the hell are you supposed to do that with one hand?” Dean interjected as you attempted to lather shampoo in your palm. 

He kneeled on the floor next to you, taking the bottle into his hands. As he worked, you took time to notice the sensations around you, to ground yourself in the moment. You watched soap bubbles take flight as you moved through the bath. You felt the warm water lapping at your skin, and the gentle circles Dean’s fingers made on your scalp. You could smell the clean scent of the soap that filled the tub, the floral perfume of the shampoo, both mixed with something you could only describe as Dean. He smelled like some combination of the beer he was drinking, his usual cologne, and the lingering sweat and dirt of the day’s hunt. Rarely were you close enough to Dean to be able to smell him, but whenever you did, you relished in the moment. But at this particular moment, his proximity was drawing all of the nerves back into your system. Dean was hovering over your naked body- you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as he worked his fingers through your hair. Beyond feeling his touch on your skin, you felt as if you could feel him- his presence, his essence. It was so intimate, so romantic, that your heart swelled and your mind raced to a million and one places. Nevertheless, you remained anchored in the bath, the water and bubbles serving as a shield and the only thing that served to separate the two of you. 

When you were finished, all the suds rinsed off your body leaving you squeaky clean, you weren’t sure how to feel. Dean had slipped out of the room to grab you a towel, and though you remained in the tub filled with the warm water and the air hung hot and heavy with humidity, the lack of his presence still made the room feel cold. Sitting alone with your thoughts, even for such a brief moment, you had realized the extent of your feelings, the irreparable mark Dean had left on your heart. In your head, you rifled through a library of moments you two had shared, picturing this morning’s events sliding into place on the shelf as the newest edition of the series.

Stepping back into the room with the towel, Dean handed it over to you before plucking the plug from the drain and helping you rise to your feet. You braced the towel underneath your broken arm and used the other to wrap it around yourself, hoping to restore even a shred of your decency- though there was little point in that anymore. Now there sat a power imbalance in your relationship with Dean- he had all the cards in his hands. So when you stepped out of the tub, you stood square in front of him, determined to level the score somehow. 

You lingered for a moment, both of you locked in an intense stare, feeling goosebumps radiate your entire body. At first, you attributed these to your drastic change in body temperature since stepping out of the water, but when you noticed a similar sensation rising over Dean, your perception shifted. Dean cleared his throat.

“So, uh, you want me to help you get dressed?” Dean rubbed at the back of his neck to settle the hairs that had been raised under your intense look.

“Not really.” You murmured in response, looking to him through lidded eyes. The unusual burst of confidence in your system inched you closer and closer, until there was nothing that separated the two of you but the thin towel you had wrapped around your frame. 

You channeled every ounce of what you were feeling into your gaze, praying Dean could read your thoughts through your eyes as if you were an open book. When he reached a hand up to cup your face, you knew the message was received. With a slowness that was almost painful, he leaned his forehead against your own, drawing his lips nearly to yours before rerouting them to your cheek, just slightly above their initial destination. After planting the softest kiss, his lips lingered, hovering ever so slightly above you. Dean was in limbo, as if he couldn’t decide whether to pull away and return to safety, or lean in to seal the deal. But you made the choice for him when your hand snaked around the back of his head and pulled him down to you, closing the gap between your lips. 

The kiss was everything you had hoped it would be, and yet, nothing you could have ever imagined. Dean was soft and gentle, so cautious of your injury, but you could feel the intensity so thinly veiled below the surface. The energy flowed from both of you, as if you were cautiously exploring something so new and dangerous, yet so incredibly desirable and magnetic. Something needed to break the seal, to throw your cautions to the wind.

You wanted to kiss Dean Winchester forever, and he shared the sentiment. So the only thing that could break you two away was the brief moment when you took a calculated step back. Confusion twisted into Dean’s face, before melting away into desire when you let your towel fall to pool at your feet. He took his own step back, reaching behind him to turn the lock on the bathroom door, before closing the gap between you- the very last time there would ever be space between you and Dean Winchester.

[castiwls]

Hii

I was wondering if you could so something with a dean x reader where one of them gets attacked by a djinn and their fantasy involves the other person?

djinn - d.w

pairing; Dean x fem!reader

synopsis; A Djinn's coma causes Dean to come to a realisation

warnings; none

notes; Idk how i feel about the ending of this one

masterlist

Dean groaned as he squinted at the light snaking through the gap in the curtains. Throwing an arm over his eyes he turned pulling the covers up with him. How much did he drink last night? He hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years.

Deciding sleep was the best idea he pulled the cover higher and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for a few minutes as he lay still, his head still throbbing. 

“Dean. Come on you need to get up. You're going to be late.” Someone reached over and pulled the cover down despite his protests. A hand shook his shoulder briefly before he felt a dip in the bed. The hand which had previously been in his hair moved upwards and began carding through his hair slowly. “Dean, come on.” 

Dean frowned slightly. He knew that voice. “Y/n?” He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the person beside him in slight shock. You smiled at him, your hand continuing its movements. “You need to stop drinking at night.” Your voice was still quiet but there was a hard edge to it. “You promised you’d stop.” 

What was going on? This wasn’t normal…at all. Sure you’d been on his case about his drinking habits for ages but you’d never been this nice about it. Normally you’d just make some snarky comment about how he was drinking himself to an early grave before pushing him to bed.

He rubbed at his eyes sitting up slowly. He slowly took in his surroundings as his body seemed to finally wake up. This wasn't the motel. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on you. You looked…different.

You looked happier. The stress lines which seemed to be prematurely forming were gone and those dark bags which seemed a constant under your eyes were gone. Satisfied that he was up you stood from the bed. “You have an hour till you need to go.” 

Dean frowned clearing his throat. The headache seemed to be subsiding. “Go where?” At his words, your frown deepened. A look of concern crossed your face. “The garage. You said you would cover a shift for Bobby remember?”

Dean quickly nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry just not with it this morning.” You shook your head before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking out of the room. 

Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the affection. While he couldn’t lie that he enjoyed it, the action also caused warning alarms in his head.

You and Dean weren’t a thing. You’d always just been his best friend nothing more. He slowly stood and walked over to the drawers pushed up against the wall and pulled a few open till eventually he found his own stuff. He’d never seen this house before in his life yet as he looked around the room it seemed that he had lived here for a while. The bedroom alone had pictures dotted around, things he had no memory of.

The last thing he remembered before waking up here was being in a barn on a hunt with Sam and the real you. He rubbed his neck as he racked his brain. What had you all been hunting?

Suddenly it hit him. A Djinn. “Fuck. Fuck.” He kicked the leg of the bed in frustration. That son of a bitch had managed to get the jump on him. He needed to get out of this dreamland fast. 

After calming himself down and getting dressed Dean made his way through the house. As he’d gotten dressed he’d been thinking of a plan. He had to wake up his actual body somehow and then get out of the barn. So far though he had no idea how to do that.

His only hope was that you and Sam would realise that he’d been grabbed and go after him. 

After a few moments, he found himself standing in the doorway to a small kitchen. At the sound of his steps (fake), you turned to face him. “There’s coffee in the pot.” You gestured to the counter beside you before you went back to cooking. 

Was this really his fantasy? Yeah sure, maybe his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic but he didn’t realise they went this far. While he knew he had to wake up part of him didn’t want to. For the first time in years, you looked calm. You seemed the happiest he’d seen as you moved around the kitchen, humming softly.

“So, um.” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter. “Any plans for today?” He cursed himself internally at how awkward he was being but he had to at least act like he had an idea of what was going on.

You pursed your lips for a moment before coming over to him. You stopped in front of him before speaking. “Not much. Probably just more wedding planning I guess.” You shrugged not noticing his expression. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask if you were happy with the quote for the venue. They need a response by tomorrow.” You stepped back before reaching for two plates from behind him.

Dean stood still as he digested what you had just dropped on him. You were getting married. To him. 

“Uh yea. Yeah, it was nice.” He nodded. You smiled as you turned with two plates. “Great I’ll call them later.” 

Dean followed behind you as you walked over to a small table. He was getting married.

What else was different in this ‘fantasy’

You frowned stepping over a pile of you didn’t even know what. “He has to be here somewhere.” You whispered as Sam shone the flashlight around the old barn.

“Over there” Sam shined the light to a corner of the barn. You could just make out the shape of a person strung up. You and Sam had managed to get rid of the Djinn relatively easily, the hard part was finding his hideout. The creature hadn’t exactly been willing to talk.

You’d only managed to figure it out due to Dean mentioning to you before he left that he was going to a barn a few miles from the motel.

You both rushed over and began to untie him. “Dean! Hey Dean.” Sam shook his brother harshly for a moment. Dean let out a quiet groan before his eyes slowly opened. “Wha-where.” He stumbled over his words for a moment before rubbing at his eyes.

Y/n crouched down beside Sam and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you ok?” 

Dean nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet stumbling slightly. You quickly reached out to steady him. Dean’s eyes flew down to where your hand rested on his arm.

His heart picked up slightly at the touch before he cleared his throat and looked back up to where you were looking back with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat trying to push the woozy feeling in his stomach away.

As the three of you walked back to the car he found his gaze falling on your left hand. Dean had never been one for marriage or even crushes for that matter but for the first time in his life, he felt himself longing for something which seemed so far out of reach.

[winchester-girl67]

Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort

Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon. 

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"

Pairing: Dean x reader 

Word Count: 902 

Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff 

A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy. 

_____

“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!” 

Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door. 

You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed. 

The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse. 

You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again. 

You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt. 

First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home. 

Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest. 

It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture. 

Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.

You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left. 

Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow. 

Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been. 

"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features. 

His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled." 

"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door." 

You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you. 

He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to. 

You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax. 

"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little. 

You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest. 

"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours. 

Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon. 

There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy. 

Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark. 

He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together. 

And maybe you could both finally get some sleep. 

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

[lenavonschweetz]

Hunter Insert

Dean Winchester x Reader

Synopsis: You really didn’t mean to, but somehow you’d stumbled upon something called Tumblr - and in turn fanfiction. You may or may not get addicted to reader inserts featuring your favorite teammate. You may or may not get caught.

Warnings: Smut, second-hand embarrassment, adorable Dean, fanfiction cliches, fanfiction cliches turned on their heads, fluffy smut.  It’s ok (and quite adorable, honestly) to laugh during sexytimes.

A/N: This is just a reworking of one of my most popular Bucky x reader fics!  Tweaked for the Supernatural world and storyline. No Beta, so be kind!

You’d had a thing for Dean Winchester for longer than you could remember.

It probably all started when you met Sam Winchester at school.  The tall goober took to you immediately.  Your calming presence and warm smile lured him in and you became fast friends, giving Sam a bond he hadn’t felt in a long time.  You were the only one he trusted enough to tell the truth about his family and their business.  He spoke of his older brother with bucket loads of admiration, though he would never admit it to the man in question.  When he told stories of their shenanigans back in the day, his eyes would light up but then his smile would fall just as quickly when he also recalled his father.  You fell in love with the idea of a man glorious enough to make even displaced, ‘unwanted’ (his words, not yours), and jaded Sam smile like the kid he never got to be.

They say reality never lives up to the stories, but lord almighty were they wrong.

You first met Dean when the business of his dad’s disappearance was in full swing.  A regular weekly movie night at Sam and Jessica’s place having turned tense when an unknown figure had broken in.  You remember your eyes had wandered to his dark figure, speaking to Sam in hushed tones, head reeling as you realized this was the man who haunted your dreams. The infamous older brother and monster hunter, Dean Winchester.

You hadn’t believed in love at first sight, but the way his impossibly hazel eyes made your heart clench… Well, there was no denying this is exactly what was happening.  

After Jessica had died you sat out the first leg of their search for their father, wanting to let them catch up.  It wasn’t until after their father was long dead, and the apocalypse was well on its way that you joined back in - or rather, were dragged back in.  Being the only woman currently in Sam’s life - though platonically, of course - the universe seemed to have it out for you and after having to save you from demons at least twice, the brothers claimed teaching you how to defend yourself and dragging you along with them would be safer than leaving you to whatever fate there was to be had.  You even became an incredibly capable hunter.  Though this was all after Sam had effectively ended the world with a demon lover who screwed him over, Dean died then came back thanks to the help of an angel - Castiel - who joined in your asinine little game, and the apocalypse really started.  Because life with the Winchesters was never simple.

And through all your years together, there was always the looming reality - or rather, fantasy - of the Supernatural books by Chuck Shurley.

At first, the fans were harmless.  There was the convention incident where reality and fantasy got a little too close, but Chuck assured you he was going to stop writing the books.  

He lied, obviously.

Still, the fandom was mostly benign - and rather small, actually, with only some fanatics here and there. Although perhaps your favorite attention to come from the ‘fame’ was from Tumblr.

Folks from all over the world posted about the boys - or rather their ‘fictional’ counterparts. Artists’ work would pop up from time to time, usually of the boys, but yours were there - even if they were pretty scarce. 

The art was amazing.  Some funny comics, some lewd drawings, some gorgeous renders - all talent.  But somehow, from Chuck’s descriptions of you and the boys, these artists rendered the most flattering, wonderful, and accurate works.  It was incredibly humbling and awe-inspiring all at once.  It even got you to start reading the books!

And you couldn’t blame them for the way the brothers were almost always shirtless or naked. They were like Greek statues, for God sake!

Your character was pretty popular, up until Chuck’s latest book where he started hinting at your little crush on the older brother.  Thank God the boys never read them, or you’d be in deep shit.

Some users sided with you “she’s only human! And he is just so…well, look at him!” Lewd pictures were attached to that post.  Others condemned you. “Seriously? How could he ever notice someone like her? #DeanDeservesBetter” “What’s Chuck thinking?”, “Worst.  Ship. EVER!”

Those stung, you’d admit. But if growing up in the 21st century taught you anything, it’s that fans were only jealous and no one was safe. You could ignore the hate though.

What you couldn’t ignore was the fanfiction.

Oh goodness, the fanfiction.

What seemed to be most popular were the reader inserts with your gorgeous teammate, and you didn’t mind indulging in them one little bit. Some were sweet and cute, others left you dashing for a cold shower after. It stunned you that these writers were able to capture Dean’s mannerisms and personality so well! And these works were just so addicting!

It became a daily thing, finding a new fic, and reading it in the safety of your room where no one could see or judge. You read reader inserts, stories with original characters, and may or may not have found a guilty pleasure in a teensy bit of Destiel (who could deny the two perfect specimens would be hot as hell together?? But you would never tell them).  You steered clear of the Dean x Lisa fics, though, like your life depended on it.

That was one torture you just couldn’t expose yourself to.

Then you stumbled over the one that changed everything. A new fic by one of your favorite authors that featured Dean (of course) and…you. It was a prompt you hadn’t read before, one where the two of you had to share a motel room with only one bed and things got hot and heavy. Your heart raced as you indulged in this fantasy, thinking of all the times you had to share a room with your teammates, though there was always more than one bed. You had never shared with Dean, as he usually bunked on the couch while you and Sam each bunked alone, but a girl can dream can’t she?

And dream you did.  Especially with Dean’s constant flirting and sexual innuendos.

The story became a constant thought in the back of your mind and when Sam hangs back at the bunker and leaves you and Dean to take on a duet hunt together, you felt your heart stop. At the motel when checking in, you were given one room and your mind ran ramped.  Had he read your phone’s history? Did he find your Tumblr? What if he had read the sinful story you’d found and wanted to live out the fantasy with you (another of your favorite prompts). The thoughts had you following silently behind your partner, heart racing as he smiled at you while his deft fingers unlocked the door. Steeling yourself as you walked inside behind him, you dropped your bags and spun around to find… 2 beds.

Oh.

Well, you supposed your dirty fantasies were just that; Fantasies.

----------

The night crawled on with no notable incidents -unfortunately-, and when it was finally time to call it a night, you both fell into your own beds.

Sleep evaded you for hours. The thought of that perfect body lying just feet away from you swam in the back of your mind. You could easily get up, crawl into bed with him, and make all your dreams come true. The fantasies that filled your head made you anything but tired.

Well, that, and the fact that Dean was snoring like a mother fucking buzz saw.

Your wide, dry eyes stared up at the ceiling as the loud rumbles filled the room. Dean had come a long way - with your help - and no longer had nightly episodes or memories of hell. Of course, they still happened on occasion, but they were a rare occurrence now.  The hunter often found himself sleeping soundly through most nights, including this one.

He was the only one who would, it seemed, as you tossed and turned, doing your best to tune out the irritating sound. You put earplugs in, then headphones playing music, then even tracks of white noise.  A forest, a stream, the ocean each one louder than the last.  They all usually knocked you right out on a hunt.

But Dean snored over all of them.

You did your best to ignore it, you really did, but when he rolled over onto his back and started with a newfound volume, you’d decided you’d had enough.

“Dee.”  You say lowly, hoping that he’ll sleep through the disturbance, but that his subconscious will hear his name and disturb his sleep just enough that he’ll shut the hell up.

The resounding snort proves that theory wrong.

“Dee!”  You snap, louder now.  Nothing.  “Dean!”

A few moments pass…

Nothing…

Maybe it worked!  Maybe-

Yeah, no,  there he goes again.

Groaning loudly, you sit up and reach for your phone.  Fine, if his hard-sleeping-ass can sleep through all that, then he could sleep with the light from your phone filling the room as well.

You open your favorite app, the blue screen greeting your tired eyes.  Switching over from the homepage feed, you type ‘Dean x reader’ into the app’s search bar and your screen is immediately flooded with fic after fic.  Pursing your lips, you decide to narrow your search.  It doesn’t seem like you’ll be falling asleep any time soon, so what would the harm be?  You let your thumbs fly over the screen’s keyboard.

Dean x reader smut.

Happy with your amendment, you hit ‘search’ once more and decide to take a walk on the wild side.

Immediately, your screen is flooded with sin and you bite back a smile.  With your screen’s light as low as it’ll go, you click on the first story and settle into a comfortable position, facing away from Dean and the window as you immerse yourself in the fic.

You’ve probably been reading for about an hour or so when your bladder decides it’s time for you to get up.  Sighing quietly, you leave your phone on your pillow, creeping through the silent room.  As soon as you’ve taken care of business and washed up, you tiptoe back to bed.  As you all but fall into the sheets, feeling like you can finally sleep, you realize your phone is not where you left it.

Hell, it’s not even in the bed.

Sitting up in fright, your eyes dart across the room and the sleeping man in the bed opposite yours.  When you see the dimly glowing screen on the bedside table, you sigh in relief, telling yourself that your sleep-deprived brain probably just didn’t register you putting it away.  Locking the screen with sleepy eyes, you drift off to sleep with visions of Dean trailing kisses down your neck flitting behind your eyes.

----------

The morning comes much too quickly for your taste, but you push yourself out of bed to face the day ahead.

You grab your bag quickly, packing up all your belongings as you and Dean prepare for your hunt.  He’s uncharacteristically quiet this morning, barely meeting your eyes as you two embark from the motel room.  Shrugging it off, you follow behind him and before you know it, the two of you are standing before the doors to a known haunted office building.  It’s far too early for anyone to be there, so breaking in is easier than you’d expected and the two of you don’t run into any trouble as you make your way to the top floor.

Once there, you put your plan into motion, Dean taking a defensive position as you sneak into the manager’s office.  You find the haunted artifact like you’ve done a million times before, and you note the sudden shift in the air once you touch it.  It’s almost too quiet as you do your work, but by the way Dean hasn’t even flinched in his spot is a good indicator that things are - miraculously - still going as planned.

Finally, your work is done - the artifact turned to ash and the ghost successfully placated.

----------

You don’t allow yourself to breathe until you and Dean walk into yet another motel, this one only a few towns over from your rendezvous point with Sam.  You’d spend the night here before making the remainder of the journey in the morning.  Exhaustion hits you like a freight train as you trudge to the room, and you find yourself hoping against hope once more that your favorite fics may come to life.  But when your eyes fall on two beds once more those hopes are dashed.

“You can take the king,”  Dean says, and you suddenly realize those are the first words he’s spoken to you all day aside from the business of the break-in earlier.  There hadn’t even been one famous Dean innuendo all day.  “I’ll take the queen.”

You raise your eyebrow at that but don’t argue, even though you know damn well that the man who is almost twice your size probably needs the larger bed more than you do.

No more words are passed between the two of you as you prepare for bed, each taking their turn in the bathroom and shower before turning the lights out and settling down to sleep.  It doesn’t take long for sleep to tickle at your eyelids, but it’s chased away almost instantly when Dean’s buzz saw snores kick to life again.

Groaning quietly, you toss a pillow at the human-grizzly bear before rolling over to grab your phone and headphones from the bedside table.  He continues, of course, and you go to your favorite app once more.  Using your phone this late at night and right before you sleep is bad, you know, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with that man rumbling only several feet from you.

You open a new fanfic, this one’s warnings staring you down as you read “smut, language, NSFW gifs” and you can’t fight back the smirk that plays on your lips.  Again, you roll onto your side, back towards Dean, as you get to reading.

You know your breathing has picked up pace as you get past the fic’s casual banter between friends and the sexual tension sets in.  Your legs squeeze together of their own accord, your chest warming in arousal as you envision Dean speaking to you the way he’s speaking to Y/N in this fic.

Within a few minutes - and a few lines - the sexual tension explodes into a full-on kiss, the smut slowly building as a result.  You scroll quickly, devouring every detail before your fingers slow as the top of a gif comes into view.  It’s sinful, to say the least.  You watch the way the man’s hips swivel into his lover’s, her head thrown back as he buries his head against her throat and himself deep into her.

Your lip is back between your teeth and you can’t bring yourself to scroll on just yet.  Instead, you let yourself take every detail in as the image loops, again and again, your arousal growing with every second.  Oh, what you wouldn’t give to have Dean moving against you that way.  His heavy breath fanning over your collarbone as he grinds against your most sensitive skin.  You have to bite your tongue so as to not moan into the silent room.

Wait…

Silent.

You realize at that moment that the violent snores from the other side of the room have died completely, silence overtaking their absence.  A silence that has you tentatively glancing over your shoulder and only to immediately regret it.

Even in the dark, your eyes find the hazel ones that are only inches away.  Hazel eyes that are damn near swallowed with lust.

Oh.  

Oh, Jesus.

“Whatcha lookin’ at, Kiddo?”  His deep voice rumbles in the quiet room, sending your heart galloping as you jump up to sitting, desperately burying your phone against your breast in an effort to hide its contents from him.

“Nothing.”  You say, your voice scarcely above a whisper.  You don’t miss the smirk on his face and frantically reevaluate the past several minutes in your brain.  When had he woken up?  When had he snuck up behind you?  How much had he read over your shoulder?

“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.”  He says, teeth dragging over his lower lip and it seems for a moment that he’s debating on whether or not he wants to take this any further.  When he speaks again though, he makes his choice very clear.  “Looks like you’re being a very bad girl.”

The room is so fucking quiet that the lump that you gulp down is painfully audible.

He didn’t just say that…did he?  You chuckle humorlessly, trying desperately to break the obvious tension and play off of the joke he is so obviously playing on you.  Dean makes comments like that all the time.  That’s just how he is with you!  Any moment now he’ll chuckle like he always does.

But then he doesn’t laugh with you.  Just stares as he scoots closer on his knees until his frame is right against the bed, pulling you by your thighs until he’s encasing you - palms on either side of your legs that are now thrown over the side of the bed.

You’reDreamingYou’reDreamingYou’reDreaming…

“That…that was too far, wasn’t it?”  He suddenly asks, rocking his weight back on his heels.  Bless him, he looks so uncharacteristically shy and you must look completely dumbfounded.  He waits with bated breath as you open and close your mouth uselessly, desperately searching for words.

Finally, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind.

“Did you just quote the fanfiction I read last night?”  OH MY GOD, you mentally scream.  Why the fuck would you expose yourself like that?? What if he just thought of that himself??

But then what if he didn’t?  Because that line had definitely stuck out to you when reading the night before…and suddenly, you remember why it had.  That was the last line before you left your phone to go to the bathroom.  The last line you’d read with tired eyes before you set your phone down, unlocked, on your pillow and - ohmygod!

“You read that!?”  You screech, gripping your phone tighter.  You gasp so hard you damn near swallow your tongue.  “You put my phone on the bedside table! Dean, you totally snooped while I was peeing!”  Alright, you could’ve kept that bit to yourself.

He’s biting that damn lip again, and you know he can tell that’s exactly where your eyes are zeroed in on.

“Maybe?”  He says, voice small as he admits his secret to you.  “I didn’t mean to!  I just…I woke up when you shut the bathroom door, and the screen was shining right in my face - I just-I got up to lock it so it wouldn’t bother me, but then I saw what you were looking at and…”  He clears his throat.  “Y/N, I…were you reading porn…about me?”

Your face is no doubt a thousand degrees of embarrassment.

“It’s not porn!! It’s fanfiction, and-”

“It literally talks about me fucking you.”  He deadpans, eyebrows raised.  “In explicit detail.  It’s porn.”

You’re silent for a few moments, staring him down as you wait for him to back down.

Of course, he doesn’t.

“Ok, fine!  It’s porn, are you happy?”  You huff, crossing your arms and finally ditching your phone to the pillow beside you.  A sudden terrifying thought causes you to freeze. “So…are you going to tell Sam?”

“Why the fuck would I tell him?!”

“I don’t know!”

“Do you honestly think I’d tell him something so personal?!”

“I don’t know!”  You repeat, floundering as you toss your hands up before crossing them again in a pout.  “It’s embarrassing.  You know I tend to jump to the worst-case scenarios…”

“Y/N, I would never out you like that.”  You would have to be blind to miss the way his eyes drag over you in your nightclothes, and you are suddenly very aware of your lack of bra and just how cold it is in the room.

He seems to notice too, his eyes zeroing in on your breasts and the way your nipples are pressing against the soft fabric encasing them.

“Do you…do you want me like that?”  He asks, his voice dropping back into the husky tone it had been before his awkward detour.

“No, Dee, I was just reading porn of you for the fuck of it.”  He chuckles at that, his palms coming to rest on your thighs as the embarrassment between you two eases - making way for a choking tension.

“Really?  Ah, well, then I guess I can just go back to bed, then.”

“Don’tyoudare!”  The words are out before you can stop them, but at this point, you don’t much care.

“Oh?  Then what should I do?”  His hazel eyes are dark, gazing at you from below thick lashes as his hands creep higher up your thighs, pushing your oversized t-shirt up to expose the soft cotton covering you from his gaze.  “Should I do this?”

Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as he leans forward, lips pressing against the soft skin on the inside of your thigh.

“Oh, please.”  You beg, arms falling at your sides to support you as his mouth grows closer to where you really want him.  Only he doesn’t quite reach, his eyes twinkling playfully at you.

“Words, Y/N.”  He grumbles lowly, splayed hands pushing your legs wider to give himself better access to your heat.

“Dean, please-”  A squeal escapes you when his teeth drag across your hip bone.  “Put your mouth on me.”

Nothing you’ve ever read could’ve prepared you for the way Dean touches you.

He moves slowly, his palms running from your inner thighs to behind your knees to pull your legs over his shoulders.  The movement has your stomach flipping, eyes never leaving his as he drags his tongue up the material hiding your core from him.

He chuckles at your moan, eyes batting as he presses the point of his tongue against your clit beneath your panties.  To be honest, you’re not sure which one of you is enjoying this more what with the way his fingers tighten against your legs, his eyes closing in concentration as he laps at you.

In your wildest dreams, you never thought Dean would be touching you like this - at least not outside of the fiction you were reading.  But, oh, is he touching you - playing you, more like it, plucking your strings until you’re practically singing for him.

You could cum just like this, light pets of his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, but then he’s tugging the panties from your form, diving right back into your bare skin and you’re keening at the contact, your fingers knotting in his long hair.  He groans in response to your moans, forearm flung lazily across your hips to keep you still as he wreaks havoc on you.

You open your mouth, ready to chastise him but the words instantly make way for cries as he finally swipes his tongue through your folds - fucking you with his mouth as he watches your form writhe.

“God, you taste amazing.”  He moans, and you have to hold back a giggle.  “What’s so funny?”  Do you admit that you’d read him saying those very words far too many times to keep count?

But then he’s pulling away, leaving you whimpering at the precipice of release and the sight of his strong torso being revealed to your ends any thoughts you may have had.  Especially when he reaches down and rids you of your own shirt, kissing across your collar bones once they’re exposed.

“You got any protection?”  He asks suddenly, teeth scraping at your throat and you are suddenly aware of the fact that this is real life, not a fic, and wow you’d lost count of how many bareback smuts you’d read.

Not that the thought of Dean cumming inside you wasn’t the hottest thing ever, but the idea of pregnancy was something you didn’t even want to entertain at the moment.

So, begrudgingly, you pushed him off gently, bending down to rifle through your bag - hey, it never hurts to be prepared.  You roll your eyes at his chuckle as you bend over, shaking your exposed backside at him - where he has taken your seat on the mattress - before rising to hand him the small, metallic square.

He toys with it for a few seconds, watching as you stand with a lip tugged gently between your teeth and your eyes flicker to the semi-hard shaft against his thighs. Long fingers enter your line of sight, coming to cup himself, stroking a few times as you watch him.

“See something you like, baby?”  He asks, free hand coming up to run his thumb against your lips.  You nod slowly, shivering at the new pet name, eyes never tearing from where he teases his cock.  You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, Dean’s thumb accidentally catching where it had been against your lips and then he’s growling and pulling you to him.

Your lips crash together, a flash of pain as your teeth clack momentarily, but you’re far too lost in Dean’s intoxicating proximity to care.  He seems to share the sentiment as your hands weave through his hair, pulling him closer as he moans and strokes himself faster before you straddle his strong thighs.

You consider grinding down against the taut muscle momentarily, but then Dean’s rolling the condom down his shaft, his knuckles brushing your folds as he does and all you want is for him to fill you up to the brim.

The desperation is clear on your face, wrapped in hooded eyes and a deep flush as you inhale deeply every time Dean’s knuckles brush you.

“Oh, my god!”  You huff, getting ever so impatient.  He chuckles at your tone, tugging you higher on his lap so that - finally - you’re aligned.  A brief moment passes as you two eye each other hesitantly, your nerves on fire as you consider what it is you’re about to do.  

You’re about to fuck one of your partners, one of your best friends…the man you’ve been fantasizing about for years.

“Ready?”  He asks softly, testing the waters as he runs the head of his cock through your lips.  Any hesitation you may have had melts with the shiver that travels your spine, and then some when Dean growls as you bare your nails into his shoulder blades.

“Dean, I swear to god, if you don’t fu-ck me!”  You squeal the tail end of your sentence, Dean’s own groan disappearing into the skin of your shoulder as he slides home.  Pain and pleasure flood your senses and suddenly you are highly aware of just how long it’s been.

“Shiiit,” Dean sighs at the tight fit, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and holding you still as he struggles to hold himself off.

It’s been a while for him, too.

“Jesus, you’re tight.”  He hisses between his teeth, his brow as scrunched as yours no doubt is at the moment.

“And you’re huge.”  He laughs then, the movement of his abs against your sensitive skin enough to have you sighing.  “I, uh, think you’re good to move.”  You say quietly, testing this theory with a slight brush forward of your hips.  When delicious friction reaches your clit at the action you moan lowly.  “Oh, yeah.  Very good to move.”

And move he does, giving you a few moments as he slowly builds up the pace before falling back and letting you take the reigns.  Your hands find his strong pecs as you fall forward at the sudden shift, and a shit-eating grin crosses your face.  Dean misses this, however, as his eyes are screwed shut with pleasure.

“Fuck!”  He groans when you begin to rut against him, dragging your clit against his adonis belt as his cock head catches against your insides perfectly.  He doesn’t seem to mind this change, panting openly and quite vocally.  Well, that is until his hands find your thighs and hold on tight.  “Shit, slow down, baby…I don’t know how long I can last if you keep that up.”

You’re about to apologize, a flush very evident on your skin before Dean is manhandling you onto your back, your legs cast wide in his grasp.

“Let’s slow things down a little.”  He teases, kissing your nose as you giggle and let him set the pace.

When he does, it’s dizzyingly slow, his teeth dragging against your skin as do his fingertips and after a few minutes of sinfully slow rocks of his hips, he is very quickly stringing you towards the edge.

“Dean,”  You whimper, your walls beginning to flutter around him.  The groan that milks from his chest is nothing short of sexy and you return one of your own.  His name becomes a chant on your lips as pleasure rushes through your bloodstream, your nails digging into his taut back and after a few more thrusts of his own, he’s emptying inside the condom.

The high fades slowly, your skin buzzing in sated pleasure as a lazy smile takes place on your face.  Dean is quiet, almost shy as he retreats to the restroom to clean himself and dispose of the condom.  You snicker quietly to yourself at the thought that this detail is often left out of the fics you read, but the pleasant ache between your legs certainly isn’t.

“Well,”  He says as he returns, slipping under the covers with you.  As you shift, something digs into your side and when you bring the offending object above the covers do you realize that your phone had remained in the sheets that whole time.  You hand it off to him as he tugs you closer, waving him to put it on the bedside table.  “Aren’t you glad I decided to snoop?”  He teases as he takes the contraption from you.

“Yeah, Yeah, Dee.  But not as glad as I am that we can save on rooms by just booking us one bed from now on!”

You both chuckle at the jest, your giggles soon dying into labored breathing as your energy drains quickly against the warmth of Dean’s body wrapped around yours.  Your eyes drift shut of their own accord, not noticing how Dean hesitates at placing your phone on the charger…again.

“Hey, baby?”  He asks hesitantly, his eyes widening as he scrolls through your Tumblr feed and exposed to all sorts of sin.

“Hmm?”  You hum, sleep tickling at your mind.   That is until your eyes fly open wide at his following question.

“What’s Destiel?”

FIN

[doctorbitchcrxft]

It's The End of the World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine) | Castiel x Demon!Fem!Reader

Pairing: Castiel x Demon!Crowley's Daughter!Fem!Reader

Warnings: general demon snarkery, canon violence, canon gore

Word Count: 8503

A/N: Request fulfilled for this nonnie! I hope this makes your week a little better, sunny!! it sort of turned out to be a rewrite for Abandon All Hope 5x10 and and The Song Remains the Same 5x13. enjoy, kids!

Songs of the fic !

It’s The End of the World As We Know It (and I Feel Fine) by R.E.M.

Roll the Bones by Rush

Too Sweet by Hozier

Dream Girl Evil by Florence + the Machine

Dirty Diana by Michael Jackson

Take My True Love by the Hand by the Lamplighters

Queue up your favorite music streaming service and listen while you read along, if you'd like!

General Writings Masterlist

“Are you sure you want this?” you asked, stepping closer to the man before you, heels crunching the gravel beneath them.

The man nodded. 

“Use your words, darlin’.”

“Yes,” he replied. 

You grabbed his neck to pull him down to kiss you, but he shoved you back. “Whoa, whoa, whoa, wh— what are you doing?”

“What, you didn’t think we were just gonna shake on it, did you?” you grinned. 

“Oh,” the man replied. He hesitantly leaned back down toward you, and you tilted your chin up slightly to kiss him. 

When you pulled away, you wiped his spit off your lips— he’d been a horrible kisser— and turned away. “See you in ten years.” You closed your eyes and reopened them once inside your father’s mansion. 

The Louboutins he’d gotten you clicked across the marble floors leading down the hall to his office, and you wanted to be anywhere other than reporting to him. However, since Hell was in shambles, here was one of your only options. You knew you’d inevitably be taking a trip downstairs soon enough to speak to your accomplices. 

“Ah, (Y/N/N), welcome back,” your father said. “Business seems to be as usual.”

“Always,” you sighed. “Let’s skip the pleasantries, though. Given I’m doing your job for you, I don’t exactly have time to chat.”

“If you want to keep your position, I suggest you keep the attitude to a minimum,” your father argued, effectively silencing you. 

“Whatever,” you replied. “What do I have to do?”

“I need you to get the Winchesters here,” he stated simply. 

“What?!” you exclaimed. “What could you possibly want with those idiots?”

Your father took the Colt out of his desk and placed it in front of him. “They need this. I intend to give it to them.”

“And how does that help us?” you asked. 

He looked at you strangely, as if it was obvious. “They need it to kill Lucifer. We need them to kill Lucifer so he doesn’t kill us.”

“I mean, sure, but why are we relying on them to get the job done?” you scoffed. 

“They’ve got an angel on their shoulder. I’m sure they can handle it,” he responded. 

***

Hell was completely in chaos. There was no corner you could go to without bloodshed happening in front of you. Therefore, you and your allies decided to meet in the most inconspicuous of places: a coffee shop. In fact, it was one another one of your allies ran; it was covered in enochian symbols to keep angels from getting too close or hearing something they weren’t supposed to. 

“So, what is he just on vacation?” you asked, taking a sip of your latte. 

“Apparently, he’s got something set up in Carthage, Missouri,” your friend, Fallon replied. “Whatever it is has the reapers so excited they came running to me with information. I swear, they haven’t been this uppity since they dropped the atom bomb.”

“Oh, great,” you sighed. 

“Lucifer’s following is getting shaky, too,” your other friend, James, chimed in. “We’ve started spreading the word that he’s gonna kill us when he’s done with earth.”

“Wait, they didn’t know that before?” you questioned. 

“They seem to be on a need-to-know basis,” he shrugged. 

“Typical,” you snorted. “Any word on the Winchesters?”

Fallon smirked. “Word on the street is their little angel friend has been trailing you.”

“I thought so. He’s not exactly subtle,” you laughed. 

“Be careful tonight,” she warned. “They’ve got a little blonde friend who’s planning on showing up.”

“Great,” you rolled your eyes. “I’m sure the lumberjacks won’t be far behind.” A sigh tore through you. “I swear, if they fuck this up…” 

“I’m sure they will, (Y/N). They don’t exactly have a track record that suggests otherwise. Does Crowley have any sort of… insurance in place?” James questioned.

You bit the inside of your cheek. “It’s my father we’re talking about. I’m sure he does; probably involving a desert island and mai thais. And I’ve got some of my own.”

“What’s that smirk for?” he asked. 

“That angel fella. What’s his name?” 

“Castiel, I think,” Fallon answered. 

“Think he’s into demons?” you grinned broadly. 

“(Y/N), you’re fucking crazy,” she scoffed. 

You leaned back in your chair, feigning offense. “What? I can be very persuasive.”

“Yeah, I know, but… I mean, have you ever tried it out on an angel?” You shrugged. “Never had the opportunity.”

“That is a huge risk, though,” James pointed out. “You realize how sideways that could go?”

“Obviously. I’m bored, though. Business is slow, my dad’s a fucking idiot, and Lucifer’s gonna kill us all. Why not fuck an angel while I have the chance?” you replied. 

Fallon shook her head. “Good luck with that, lover. I’ll see you when I got something else you can use.” She headed to the back of the shop near the restrooms and disappeared under the cover of the shadows. 

James patted you on the shoulder to say goodbye. “Let me know when they’ve got the Colt. I’ll keep a tail on them when they do.”

“Thanks, love. See you around.” You walked out the front door of the café knowing the angel was near. You could almost feel the light emanating off him. 

You lead him to a clearing in the woods outside the small town you’d met your friends in. “I know you’re there, angel,” you almost spat out the words, but you tried to keep your voice sugary sweet. 

You heard a flutter of wings behind you. “Hello, (Y/N),” the angel’s deep voice rumbled. 

You turned to face the voice, and you couldn’t lie, he was incredibly attractive. “Y’know, if I wasn’t so disgusted by your existence, I’d find you pretty hot.”

“Is that supposed to be flattering?” Castiel asked, cutting his eyes at you and cocking his head to the side. 

You smirked. “You’re kinda funny for an angel.”

“I do not believe we have senses of humor,” he responded, seeming confused. 

Crossing your arms, you shook your head and rolled your eyes. “Why are you following me?”

“Crowley has something that belongs to the Winchesters,” Castiel replied. 

“And that concerns you, how?”

His expression remained deadpan. “I don’t have to answer to you.”

“Just making conversation,” you returned. “I’m assuming the cavemen in question are heading to my father’s house as we speak?”

Castiel nodded. 

“And I’m guessing they’re gonna try and kill him?” He nodded again. 

“I don’t think it’ll be in their best interest to do that,” you said evenly. 

“And why is that?” Castiel asked. 

“Because my father wants to help. And so do I,” you explained. 

Castiel furrowed his brows at you. “Why?” he grumbled. 

“Personally, I’m not interested in being turned into minced meat by the man in charge,” you snickered.

He seemed confused. 

“What, you didn’t know? Or is your face just… permanently ‘deer in headlights’?” you taunted, circling him. 

“Why would Lucifer kill his own kind?” the angel asked pointedly. He followed you with his gaze as you walked by turning his head.

“We’re not his own kind, genius. He’s a disgruntled frat boy with serious daddy issues, and we’re just the sorority girls he fucks over repeatedly trying to ignore his own problems,” you explained. 

“Lucifer knows he won’t win, correct?” 

You scoffed mockingly. “You wanna tell him? ‘Cause he firmly believes he shall inherit the earth.”

“I would rather not cross paths with Lucifer again. And I’d rather you change your tone when you speak to me,” he replied, his much taller frame intimidating you slightly. Still, you held your ground.

“Whaddya say we work together?” you asked, coming to a stop in front of him. “Y’know, you scratch my back, I scratch yours?”

“What could a demon possibly offer me?” he grumbled. 

“I can think of a few things,” you smirked. 

Castiel furrowed his brows once more, and you could see the smallest bit of lust in them. ‘Gotcha,’ you thought. 

“I know demons,” you explained. “I know how we work. I also know how to kill us. And Hellhounds adore me. I could be a valuable asset in the undoubtedly stupid plan you and the Winchesters are gonna go through with after tonight.”

He seemed hesitant, but you could tell you had him on the hook. 

“Whaddya say?”

***

Much to your surprise, Castiel had agreed to allow you to help them with their mission. However, the Winchesters clearly weren’t aware of that fact.

Your shoes clicked across the concrete as you headed toward the gates where the Winchesters and their friend Jo had just put down two of your father’s servants. 

“It’s a shame,” you said. “We just got the driveway pressure washed.” 

The two brothers were clearly surprised to see you, and the taller one squared his shoulders at you, holding out his knife. 

“Relax, would you?” you said evenly. “And put that thing away. Follow me.”

You turned on your heel and lead the duo into your father’s home. 

The heavy doors closed with a thunk behind the brothers, and you continued down the hall toward your father’s office. He’d apparently been expecting you, as he was sitting behind his desk with a cocktail in hand looking bored. You stood off to his side, leaning one arm on the back of his chair. 

“Wh— It’s Crowley, right?” Sam asked, trying to appear strong despite his clear disorientation. 

“So, the Hardy Boys finally found me. Took you long enough,” your father smirked. 

“I thought I told you to put that knife away,” you said, referencing the one in the taller man’s hand. 

Your father pulled the Colt out of his desk drawer and placed it down in front of him. “This is it, right? This is what it's all about.”

“What the hell is this?” Dean questioned gruffly. 

“Do you know how deep I could have buried this thing?” Your father waved his hand, and the doors behind the Winchesters slammed shut. “There's no reason you or anyone should know this even exists, except that I told you.” Sam scoffed. “You told us.”

“Rumors, innuendo, sent out on the grapevine,” he returned. 

“Why? Why tell us anything?” 

Your father picked up the gun and pointed it at Dean. “I want you to take this thing to Lucifer and empty it into his face.

“Uh-huh, okay,” Dean deadpanned, “and why exactly would you want the devil dead?”

“None of you are that quick on the draw, are you?” you snickered. 

Dean looked confused. 

“I’ve already had this conversation with your Heavenly lap dog. It’s about survival.” You stalked around the two boys, who were clearly a little intimidated by you. “Lucifer isn't a demon, remember? He's an angel. An angel famous for his hatred of humankind. To him, you're hideous, unwashed miscreants. If that's the way he feels about you, what do you think he thinks about us?”

“But he created you,” Sam noted. 

“Well, that’s a nice sentiment— parental love, and all that— but to him, we’re just servants; cannon fodder.” You came to a stop beside your father again. 

He spoke up to finish your explanation. “If Lucifer manages to exterminate humankind, we're next. So, help me out, huh? Let's all go back to simpler, better times, back to when we could all follow our natures. I'm in sales, dammit! So what do you say if I give you this thing, and you go kill the devil?” He held out the Colt, handle first, to Sam, who hesitantly stepped forward to take it. 

“Great,” Sam said, looking down at the gun in his hand. 

“Great,” Crowley nodded. 

“You wouldn't happen to know where the devil is, by chance, would you?” he asked. 

“He’s got an appointment in Carthage, Missouri on Thursday,” you explained. “I’d be more than happy to escort you.”

Dean laughed. “No offense, sweetheart, but I don’t think we’ll be needing any help from you.”

“Oh, you don't?” you scoffed, eyebrows raised. “Your friend Cas seems to think I could be useful. In fact, he’s already agreed to let me come.”

Dean shook his head. “No. No fuckin’ way. Why the hell would he tell you that?”

“Trust me,” you replied, “you two troglodytes are chum in the water for whatever Lucifer’s got camping out over there. You’re gonna want another great white on your team.”

“Oh, and, uh, excuse me for asking, but aren't you kind of signing your own death warrant? I mean, what happens to you if we go up against the devil and lose?” Dean questioned. 

“Number one, he's going to wipe us all out anyway. Two, after you leave here, I go on an extended vacation to all points nowhere. And three, how about you don't miss, okay! Morons!” your father roared, his gravelly voice thick. You tossed the bullets at Sam and Dean, giving them no time to recover before you disappeared. 

***

A flap of wings behind you told you that Castiel had actually shown up to your planned meeting. 

“I’m surprised to see you, darlin’,” you said, turning to face him. 

“You demons are so peculiar with your terms of endearment,” he replied, voice rumbling deep in his chest. “But yes, as much as I’m unhappy about it, I am here.”

“Your boys seemed a little off-put by you putting your faith in me,” you smirked. 

The angel became defensive. “I am not putting my faith in you. You are simply convenient.”

“Wow, you really know how to make a girl feel special,” you snickered. 

“This banter is exhausting, (Y/N). What is your plan?” he questioned.

“All business,” you sighed mockingly. “Well, I’m not gonna put myself in the Winchesters’ line of fire. Or yours, for that matter. What I will do is jump in to keep the other demons at bay and help you find Lucifer.”

Castiel nodded, his face as stoic as always. “I will be with the Winchesters. We will meet you in Carthage, and you need to help us get into the town. I am sure there will be demons guarding it.”

“Naturally,” you replied. “You realize this is a huge risk for me, right?” 

“I am aware. It’s a risk for me, too,” Castiel cut you off. 

“But you’re not going against your own kind. I could lose some serious street cred,” you said sincerely. 

“I did,” he said simply. 

You turned back to him. “But the angels didn’t kill you when you did. You just got sent away. I’d be tortured. Forever, potentially.”

“No one is forcing you to help us, (Y/N),” Castiel replied dryly. However, he did seem to feel slight sympathy for you. That was overshadowed, though, by his disdainful stare.

“My father is,” you said.

“Crowley?” 

“The one and only,” you snickered. “If I had it my way, I would’ve fucked off to somewhere in the mountains and raised a couple goats when Hell went to… well, hell.”

“Why didn’t you?” Castiel asked pointedly. 

“What difference does it make why I didn’t?” you snapped. “My point in bringing that up is to tell you not to pretend we’re the same in this situation. I have a lot more riding on the line than you do. You may wanna start being a little less of a dick to me.”

“Are you, a demon, sincerely going to call me out on an attitude problem?” Castiel grunted. 

“Yes,” you replied. “If I’m telling you your attitude sucks, then it must really fucking suck. Just… don’t treat me like the scum of the earth, okay? I didn’t ask to be a demon.”

“Well, you must have done something to get yourself sent to Hell to become one,” the angel responded. 

“I didn’t, actually,” you stated. “My mother was a human. She got pregnant with me, and I became my father’s right hand man when she died.”

“You’re a natural-born demon?”

“Are you dense?” you scoffed. “That’s what I just told you.”

“I’ve never heard of one before,” he said, ignoring your flippance.

“I’m the first. Which, again, adds to the danger. I’m the demon-equivalent of a nephilim, and everybody wants me. That’s not me being cocky,” you explained, “that’s just me stating the facts. Everyone jockeying for power down in Hell wants me on their team. And I stayed loyal to my father. Which has made quite a few demons wanna put my head on a pike on their front lawns.”

“If you have all these powers, why haven’t you used them on me yet?” he questioned. 

“You’ve got a pretty face,” you said coolly. “I’d hate to make a mess of it.”

***

The next day, you waited near the outskirts of the town for the 1967 Impala and the band of misfits that would be accompanying it. 

“Hey there, (Y/N),” a voice said behind you. 

“Jesus, James!” you squeaked. You turned and shoved his shoulder. “You scared the fuck out of me. What are you doing here?”

He didn’t seem as happy to see you as he usually was. “I wish you wouldn’t’ve come,” he told you. 

Your expression hardened. “Why…?”

“This isn’t gonna end well. For anyone,” he replied, equally as cryptically.

“Stop talkin’ like Shakespeare. Spit it out,” you snarled, getting angry. 

“Meg’s here. With the Hellhounds. This isn’t gonna end well if you help them,” James explained. 

“What the fuck, did you help her, or something?” you asked. 

“No, but your dad’s got me directly in cahoots with her. I’m gonna have to duke it out with you since you’re here,” he replied. 

You nodded, understanding why he was behaving so strangely. “We’re not leaving here till one of us his dead, huh?”

James nodded. You knew you couldn’t hug him since you were likely being watched by some of Lucifer’s followers, but you gave him an empathetic look knowing he didn’t stand a chance against you. 

“Don’t go easy on me, love,” you told him. 

“Ditto,” he replied, a smirk tugging at the ends of his lips. 

He rushed you, and you dodged him easily. The two of you sparred for a few minutes as your thoughts spiraled downward. James had been your friend for centuries, and he was one of your father’s most devoted followers. He was a low-level crossroads demon, and his powers were nothing against yours. With your telekinesis and ability to manipulate light and energy, he could’ve been on the ground within ten seconds. 

“This is definitely a hell of a way to go,” James grunted as you threw him back to the ground. 

You panted, “It’ll give you a cool story to tell in… whatever’s after this.”

Your friend seemed to get sad at that. “I’m not sure there is anything after this.”

“Well, I’ll see you when I see you, J,” you said, tears rimming your eyes. 

“Don’t cry for me. I’d rather you than Lucifer,” he assured you, letting you shove him to the ground one last time. 

Your lip trembled as you held your hand up at him, and he closed his eyes in preparation for the blow. The most merciful way you could think to kill him was with a blinding light emanating from your hand that immediately disintegrated his essence. Tears finally fell from your eyes when the light dissipated, and you could see your friend’s limp body lying on the ground. 

Collapsing to your knees, you held James's cold hand.

A voice came from behind you. “Who is he to you?”

‘Castiel,’ you realized. “My best friend,” you sniffled. “He was, uh, my guy on the inside.” You stood from the ground but refused to face him. 

“I’ve never known a demon to cry before,” Castiel said, his voice sounding genuinely curious and sincere. 

You sniffed again. “I told you. I’m half-human. I can feel differently than other demons. Where are the others?”

“We passed you when you were fighting with your friend,” the angel explained. “We should go talk to the reapers. They’ll know where to find Lucifer and give us some information as to what’s going on.”

“You do that,” you replied, facing him once you collected yourself. “I gotta go check on something.”

He looked at you curiously, but said nothing before you disappeared. 

“Come on, boys. My Father wants to see you,” you heard Meg saying as you approached. 

“I think we'll pass, thanks,” Sam replied. 

“Your call. You can make this easy, or you can make it really, really hard,” she cooed dangerously. Meg had always been a true pain in your ass. 

Suddenly, a gunshot rang out. You heard a Hellhound whine as you rounded the corner onto the street where the Winchesters were facing off with Meg.

“Run!” someone screamed. 

You saw the hounds heading after the hunters, and one of them pulled Dean to the ground. He screamed in agony as it slashed at his leg. 

“Dean!” the blonde from your father’s mansion cried. 

“Jo, stay back!” he told her. 

Suddenly, a sharp whistle broke through the air. You’d learned at a young age to communicate with Hellhounds, and your whistles could almost hypnotize them. Being a crossroads demon certainly meant having a strong relationship with the creatures, too. 

Everyone’s heads turned to you, including those of the hounds. You walked forward calmly and called the dogs to your sides. 

“Run,” you ordered the hunters. 

They all listened gladly and sprinted away as Meg lunged at you. You couldn’t simultaneously control Meg’s hounds and fight her, and the hounds went back to their original mission. You threw Meg against the wall of a shop, and she retaliated by causing a telephone pole to nearly fall on you. There was never a window of opportunity wide enough to enable you to summon energy to smite her with the many telekinetic bl0ws she threw at you. You continued to grow angrier and angrier as time went on, and the two of you continued to fight, and Meg had apparently grown tired of your battle. She disappeared from view, and you panted laboriously when she’d gone. 

You turned to the shop the Hellhounds were lunging at the doors of. 

As much as you weren’t thrilled about helping people that were unkind to you— namely, Dean— you called the dogs off. The Hellhounds were always terrifyingly beautiful creatures, in your opinion. 

Their ears perked up at your whistles, and you called them to your side. 

“Hi, boys,” you said, stooping down to them. You pet one’s fur, and he nuzzled into your hand. You walked over to the splintered telephone pole Meg had brought down on you with the dogs hot on your heels and broke off a large piece of it. Throwing as hard as you could, you sent the dogs after their new chew toy. 

Dusting your hands off, you made your way over to the shop the hounds had been chomping at the bit to get in. When you threw the doors open with your powers, you were met with guns and angry voices. 

“Whoa, whoa!” you snickered, holding your hands up in surrender. “I come in peace.”

Dean and Sam reluctantly lowered their guns but didn’t seem pleased to see you. 

“I just saved you from those mutts. Maybe a little appreciation would do?” you smirked. 

“This is not the time for you to be a smart ass,” Dean grunted. He tossed a look over at the blonde woman on the floor bleeding profusely from her side. There was no doubt in your mind that she’d been attacked by a hound. 

“Can you… help her?” Sam asked. 

You shook your head. “No can do. I’m a demon. None of the powers we were gifted can exactly be used for truly benevolent reasons.”

“Great!” Dean threw his hands up sarcastically and ran them over his hair, pacing back and forth. “Alright, we gotta get them the hell outta town.” He was referencing the two women on the floor. The older one muttered encouraging words to whom you assumed was her daughter, and you looked on sadly. 

“Won't be easy,” Sam noted.

“Stretcher?”

“I’ll see what we got.” The younger brother started off, but the blonde stopped him. 

“Can we, uh, be realistic about this, please?” she said through labored breaths. “Ah—! I can't move my legs. I can't be moved. My guts are being held in by an ace bandage. We gotta—we gotta get our priorities straight here.” She tried to offer a sad smile. “Number one, I'm not going anywhere.”

“Joanna Beth, you stop talking like that,” her mother told her. 

The blonde turned her head toward the woman weakly. “Mom, I can’t fight. I can’t walk. I can’t move. This is it for me.”

“There is… something I can do,” you said. 

All of their heads turned to you, but Dean seemed to catch on to what you were implying faster than the rest of them did. 

“No. No way in hell, bitch,” he asserted. 

“Okay, first of all, watch how you speak to me.” You flashed your eyes red to get the point across, which Dean seemed to be slightly afraid of. “Second, do you have any other plan? You heard what she said. Your angel friend is locked up with Lucifer god knows where, and I can’t heal her. What I can do is put her out of her misery, and we can get out of here before those hounds get bored of their new chew toy.”

The blonde’s mother was horrified. “No! I— I won’t let you.”

“Mom, please,” the girl on the floor begged weakly. 

“No!” her mother argued, tears streaming down her face. 

“Look, these guys need to move on. I’ll only slow ‘em down, and you know they won’t leave here without me,” she continued. 

“No, no! That’s not—”

The blonde cut her mother off. “Mom, this might literally be your last chance to treat me like an adult. Might wanna take it?” She smiled sadly up at her. 

Her mom held her close, sobbing. 

“I’ll give you some time to say your goodbyes,” you said, turning away. You waited by the shop doors looking for unexpected visitors or for the Hellhounds to come back. You watched the sun set while Sam, Dean, and the girl’s mother all exchanged their final words. 

When you turned back, the blonde’s mother was on the floor with her. 

“All of you need to leave. Any one of you in this room with me will die if you don’t,” you urged, looking at the girl’s mother. 

“I will not leave you here alone,” the woman told her daughter. 

“Mom, no,” the girl cried. 

You remained stoic despite the pangs going through your chest. “Are you sure?” you asked her. 

She nodded at you and smiled at her daughter. “Just make it quick. For both of us.”

You nodded and turned to the Winchesters. “Get outta here.” 

Both men looked like they wanted to protest, but they decided against it. As soon as you were sure the two boys were out of danger, you raised your hand toward them. 

“Goodnight, guys,” you told them. 

The woman smiled at you and closed her eyes, leaning into her daughter and kissing her hair. “I will always love you, baby,” she told her.

Energy surged from the world around you into your extended hand producing a blinding white light that engulfed the room. When the light dissipated, both women were gone. “Good luck to you both,” you told them. The afterlife was no party; that was for certain. 

You walked out of the shop and down the street where the boys were waiting for you. “C’mon,” you urged them. “I’ll get you guys as close as I can, and then, I’ll go find Cas.”

Sam nodded, but Dean’s mind seemed elsewhere. Still, the two followed you down the street. 

You could feel the light radiating from Castiel and followed the feeling to a farmhouse at the edge of town. It was a peculiar feeling, though; most angels didn’t feel warm when you were near them. Their energy had always felt cold and unforgiving, even more so than demons. 

You pulled the boys down into a bush with you, and the three of you peeked over the tops of the leaves. Dozens of men stood in the field, attention on something you couldn’t see through the darkness. 

“Demons,” you whispered. “He’s here.”

You could feel Lucifer’s horrible presence. His presence felt like Hellfire scorching your skin the closer you got to him. 

“Don’t miss,” you told Dean, referencing the Colt he was brandishing. He nodded at you, and you made your way around the field and into the farmhouse where Castiel’s energy emanated from. 

Something else was here, too, though. You had to guess it was Meg; she’d always had a particularly close relationship with Lucifer. What sounded like flames crackled from upstairs, and you figured they had Castiel trapped in a ring of holy fire. 

You crept up the stairs, praying Meg couldn’t hear your footsteps over the roaring fire. 

“You seem pleased,” you heard Castiel say. 

“We're gonna win,” Meg gloated. “Can you feel it? You cloud-hopping pansies lost the whole damn universe. Lucifer's gonna take over Heaven. We're going to Heaven, Clarence.”

“Strange, because I heard a different theory from a demon named (Y/N),” Castiel said. 

Meg scoffed. “You don’t know (Y/N). Or Crowley.”

“They believe Lucifer is just using demons to achieve an end, and that, once he does, he’ll destroy you all,” Castiel continued. 

“You're wrong. Lucifer is the father of our race. Our creator. Your god may be a deadbeat. Mine? Mine walks the earth.”

You used your powers to break a pipe off the wall and slammed the back of Meg’s head with it. She fell forward into the fire, and you held her screaming, writhing form down for Castiel to walk over. 

Once he was free, you shoved Meg fully into the circle to trap her there. 

“Hello, (Y/N),” the angel told you. 

For the first time since you’d met him, you cracked a genuine smile. “Hello, Castiel.” Remembering your mission, your disposition became serious once more. “C’mon, we gotta get the boys. Something’s wrong.”

You and Castiel teleported to where the Winchesters were being held captive by Lucifer near the mass grave he’d created, and the angel held a finger to his lips to silence them. You let Castiel steer you where he needed your power to transport the boys. Once the Winchesters were delivered back to their friend Bobby’s house safely, you and Castiel regrouped in a clearing in the woods nearby. 

“I can’t fuckin’ believe the Colt didn’t work,” you grumbled, running your hands through your hair in frustration. “Of course he’s one of the only five beings in the universe that thing doesn’t work on. Did you know?” You wheeled around to face Castiel. 

He shook his head. “I wish I had. It could’ve saved Ellen’s and Jo’s lives.”

You looked up at the stars; unobstructed by city lights or trees blocking your view as a heavy silence settled over you and the angel. “What’s Heaven like, Cas?” you asked. 

“What?” he questioned. 

“What’s it like?” You turned to face him, pulling your attention from the stars above. 

“It’s… nice, I think,” he said plainly. 

You snorted. “ ‘Nice’? That’s all I get?”

“Why do you want to know?” Castiel asked, furrowing his brow at you. 

“I wanna know if I sent that mom and her daughter to a good place,” you answered. 

The angel seemed to marinate on that information for a moment, and you could see empathy flash across his face. “It is different for each person. Everyone has their own personal definition of ‘Heaven,’ and that is what awaits them at the end of their lives.”

“Did you like it up there?” you asked, turning your attention back to the stars. 

“I didn’t like anything before I came to Earth,” Castiel replied. 

You tilted your head to the side and faced him again. “Really?”

He nodded. The starlight caught his eyes, and your gaze softened, righting your head. “What is it?” he asked. 

“Your eyes are really blue,” you told him. 

He looked confused. 

“They’re pretty,” you said. 

Those blue eyes searched your face. “I think the correct response to that is ‘thank you’,” he replied. 

You nodded, cracking a small smile and looking away from his intense gaze. “You’re welcome. Lucifer tell you anything worth noting?”

“No,” he answered, starting to walk around you. “I did find a particular distaste for car rides, though.”

You laughed, circling him just the same. “They’re the worst.”

Then, he abruptly stopped. “Why are you being so kind?”

You stopped, too, confused by his question. “What?”

“I mean, you’re a demon. It seemed you hated me when we first spoke,” Castiel explained. “It seemed your motivations were purely self-serving; like your father’s. And yet, you showed concern for Ellen and Jo. You saved Sam and Dean from the Hellhounds. You saved me. Why?”

You looked to the ground. “I don’t know,” you answered honestly. “The… human side of me always confuses the fuck outta me. I do my job, I play the part, but I… love humanity. Sure, they’re horrible to each other sometimes, but so are demons. Their full range of emotion is so complex. I just— they fascinate me. And sometimes, I wish I had a life as little as theirs.”

When you looked back at Castiel, he was staring down at you with such intensity it felt like he was staring straight into your soul. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” you told him. 

“Why?” Castiel asked, his expression unmoving.

“Because I don’t know what it means.” 

He stepped closer to you, and your breath quickened. The angel slid his hand along your jaw and tilted your face up to his, kissing you with a fever. He grabbed desperately at you, and you, at him. When he broke away, you were dumbfounded. 

“I learned that from the pizza man,” he told you. 

You didn’t quite understand what that meant, but you laughed all the same. 

***

The next time you saw Castiel, he informed you there was an angel he needed help handling. 

“So, what’s your deal with this chick?” you asked him. 

“Heaven had her imprisoned, and I heard the angels talking about how she’s free,” Castiel replied. 

“Is she a major player?”

He gave you a strange look. 

“Is she a big deal,” you clarified. 

‘The only way she got out was if someone let her out. So, yes, she’s becoming one,” the angel nodded. 

“And why do you need me?” you asked. “Seems like a family dispute to me.”

“Because you’re stronger than I am. And you’ve proven you’re trustworthy.” Castiel grabbed your hand to bring you along to wherever he’d determined Anna was. 

Unfortunately for you, he was right. You were trustworthy. As much as you started hanging around him for "insurance," he was becoming a true ally you couldn't double-cross.

“Hello?” the woman called into the darkness. “Who’s there?”

You stepped out into the flickering light. “Hi there.”

She jumped back in surprise. “Who are you?!”

Castiel stepped out from behind you. “Hello, Anna.”

Anna turned to face him. “Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say the Winchesters don't trust me.”

“They do. I don't. I wouldn't let them come,” Castiel replied, beginning to circle her. 

You followed suit, walking in the opposite direction. 

“And why is that?” she questioned, continuing to face Castiel. 

“If you're out of prison, it's because they let you out. And they sent you here to do their dirty work,” he responded. 

She folded her arms across her chest. “And what makes you so sure?”

“Because I've experienced…” the angel trailed off, searching for the words, “heaven's persuasion.”

“You mean when you gave me to them,” Anna clarified. 

Castiel sighed. “That was a mistake. Anna, whatever they sent you here to do—”

She cut him off. “They didn't send me. I escaped.”

“Darlin’,” you chimed in, “Heaven’s the supermax prison to end all supermaxes. Seriously, how’d you get out?” While she was distracted trying to answer your question and keep her focus between both you and Castiel, you used your powers to draw the knife she was hiding in her jacket and pull it around the back of her body to keep her from noticing it was missing. 

“Castiel can tell you,” Anna replied evenly, “I’m not one to underestimate.”

You hummed. “So, if you’re not on team ‘god’—” you used air-quotes mockingly— “then what do you want?”

“I want to help.”

Castiel scoffed. “You want to help?”

“Yes,” she nodded. 

“Then what are you doing with this knife?” You came to a stop in front of Anna, dangling it with a mocking pout on your face. 

She seemed startled that you’d noticed it. “I'm not allowed to defend myself?”

“Against whom?” Castiel pressed. “That blade doesn't work against angels. It's not like this one.” He drew his own long blade that came to a pointed tip. “Maybe you're not working for Heaven, but there's something you're not telling us.”

Anna took in a shuddering breath. “Sam Winchester has to die. I'm sorry but we have no choice. He's Lucifer's vessel.”

You laughed. “He’s not the only one, doll.”

“What, that guy Nick?” she scoffed. “He's burning away as we speak. No. Sam is the only vessel that matters. You know what that means? If Lucifer can't take Sam, his whole plan short-circuits. No fight with Michael, no Croatoan virus. The Horsemen go back to their day jobs.”

“Even if you could…” Castiel trailed off, “kill Sam, Satan would just bring him back to life.”

“Not after I scatter his cells across the universe,” Anna stated almost immediately. “They'll never find him. Not all of him.”

You waited for Castiel to answer. 

“We'll find another way,” was all he could manage to say. 

“How's that going?” the redhead pressed. “How's the Colt working out? Or the search for God? Is anything working? If you want to stop the devil, this is how.”

“The answer's still no, because Sam is my friend,” Castiel said plainly. 

She seemed taken aback. “You've changed.”

“Maybe too late, but I have.”

You tsked. “You’re breakin’ my heart, Cas.”

Your friend ignored you. “Anna, we've been through much together, but you come near Sam Winchester, and I'll kill you.” 

The woman’s eyes widened a moment before she decided it best for her to disappear. 

“Well, that’s fuckin’ great,” you commented, slightly exasperated. “I’ll get my friends on the lookout for the bitch. If she even sniffs close to Sam, I’m on it.”

“What is he to you?” Castiel asked. “Given your motivations, I’d think you’d agree with her.”

You turned to face him. “Well, things change. And if this kid is important to you, then he’s important to me.”

***

After thoroughly briefing your allies and your father, you ventured to the Winchesters’ motel room. You scrunched your nose up at the foul scent of molding carpet. “Ugh, you guys live like this?” you snarked, looking around in disgust. 

“And what the fuck are you doing here?” Dean questioned. 

“Dean,” Castiel warned, “I asked her to come.”

The older brother scoffed. “You did? Why?”

“I’ll need her help in case things go wrong.”

“What are you talking about?” you asked. “I thought you just needed me for the summoning ritual.” 

“Well, I thought that was all I needed you for, too,” the angel sighed. “That was until I found out she’s in 1978.”

“Why would she be in 1978?” you asked. 

“Yeah,” Sam replied, “I wasn't even born yet.”

“You won’t be if she kills your parents,” Castiel stated. “Anna can't get to you because of me. So she's going after them.”

“Take us back right now,” Dean ordered, bracing himself. 

You scoffed. “And deliver you right to Anna? We should go alone.”

“No, no, no, sister,” the older brother argued. “I don’t trust you with my parents or Cas alone.”

“Why not?” you fired back. “It’s not like I saved you. Twice.”

Dean shook his head. “No. No way. They’re our parents. We’re going. Little help here, Cas?”

“It's not that easy,” the angel said calmly. 

Sam jumped in, saying, “Why not?”

“Time travel was difficult even with the powers of Heaven at my disposal.”

“Which got cut off,” finished Sam. 

“Which is why we need her,” Castiel nodded to you. 

You sighed heavily. “I don’t know, Cas.”

“Oh, since when are you two on a nickname basis?” Dean gestured between the two of you. “And, what, you’re like a Delorean without enough plutonium?” 

“I don't understand that reference,” the angel said dryly. “But I'm telling you, taking this trip, with passengers, no less—” he shook his head, “it'll weaken me.”

Dean walked up to Castiel trying to get him to meet his eyes. “They're our mom and dad. If we can save them, and not just from Anna. I mean, if we can set things right, we have to try.”

Castiel shook his head, but then, started to busy himself packing up a duffel bag with holy oil, his angel blade, and other angelic knick-knacks. 

“Ready?” he asked when he was finished packing.

You nodded, grabbing both his and Sam’s wrists. 

“Whoa, whoa, what? Is she coming?” Dean protested. 

“Uh, yeah,” Sam snorted. “She helped us out a lot, Dean. And Cas needs the… juice, or whatever.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Sorry, I’m not crazy about having a demon near our parents.”

“Well, get on board,” you said dryly. "Let’s get this over with.”

When you opened your eyes again, you turned to see Castiel collapsed next to you and bleeding from his nose. 

“Cas?” you asked worriedly, bending down beside him. 

Sam and Dean made their way over to you. The younger asked, “Did we make it?”

Dean pointed to the car driving down the street. “Unless they're bringing Pintos back into production, I, uh, I'd say, ‘yes’.” 

“Uh, guys? Little help, here?” you remarked, gesturing to the collapsed angel beside you. 

“I'm fine,” Castiel assured you. “I'm much better than I expected.”

You tried to help him up, but he ended up spitting blood and passing out. 

“Great,” you huffed. “C’mon, help me get ‘im in a motel somewhere.”

***

With Castiel comfortably tucked in the bed of the honeymoon suite, you bid the boys goodbye and good luck on their mission. 

“Wait, you’re not coming with us?” Dean asked pointedly. 

“I think you kids can handle yourselves,” you replied. “I need to make sure he doesn’t die.” You gestured to the unconscious man behind you. 

“Sure, sure,” Dean sarcastically said. “And I’m just supposed to trust that you’re not stabbing us in the back, here?”

“Look, if it wasn’t for me, you’d be dead. And without my help getting here, so would he.” You nodded your head toward Castiel. “So lay off me, would ya? And tell that angel bitch to suck my dick.”

Dean tried to resist laughing at your comment and covered it up with an uncomfortable cough. “Fine. If we get stuck here, though, know I’m killing you first.”

“Deal.”

Dean and Sam left with Castiel’s duffel bag, leaving you to take care of him. This was a first for you. You’d never nursed anyone back to health; let alone an angel. 

You sat next to him and gently smoothed your hand over his delightfully fluffy hair. Castiel stirred, the ends of his lips pulling into a smile, but he didn’t wake. You repeated the action, which seemed to soothe him, and eventually, his arms wound around your waist. He buried his face in the hinge of your hip, and you froze in shock. Unsure of what to do, you just continued to play with his hair while he slept. 

***

Castiel slept almost completely through the first day. Despite going stir crazy with no one and nothing to entertain you, the thought of leaving never crossed your mind. 

You sat across the room from him, simply staring at him and memorizing his features. He was frustratingly beautiful. Something about him had you captivated, and you weren’t sure you enjoyed the feeling. 

Every once in a while, Castiel would shift in his sleep. Each time he did, you got excited; hoping he’d wake up. When you realized he was still soundly asleep, you mentally scolded yourself for allowing yourself to become at all invested in the well-being of the angel. 

When he did wake up, he groaned. 

“It lives,” you snickered, your sock-covered feet kicked up on the desk and arms folded across your chest. 

“Good morning,” Castiel’s deep voice rumbled. 

“It’s three in the afternoon, dude.”

He perked his head up, his hair messy. “Oh. Really?”

You nodded, smirking. “Sit up. I gotta show you something.”

Castiel seemed confused. 

“Again with that deer-in-headlights stare,” you sighed sarcastically. “You said you didn’t get Dean’s Back to the Future reference. Now, I’m making you watch the movie.”

The two of you sat beside each other with your arms crossed over your chests and legs outstretched in front of you. Your backs were against the situationally-dissonant heart-shaped headboard, adding an extra layer of school-girlish, giddy discomfort. 

This feeling was entirely foreign to you. He was such a warm light that it almost felt as though the side of you closest to him was burning. The most startling part of it all, though, was you felt awkward. You never felt awkward or unsure. And yet, the angel beside you had you questioning every slight move you made. 

His eyes were firmly glued to the television, and you found his endless curiosity adorable. “He’s aware that she’s his mom, right?” Castiel asked you. 

You laughed, throwing your head back against the headboard. “Yeah, he is. This movie’s weird. Cult classic.”

“We shouldn’t be watching this, then,” he said plainly, looking for the remote.

“What, why?” You held the remote out of his grasp. 

“Because cults are bad, (Y/N),” he replied. 

You shook your head, still smiling widely. “Not a real one, Cas. It’s just an expression. I think it means something like it’s critically a bad movie, but a lot of people really like it.”

“This nomenclature is awfully confusing,” he said, sounding slightly disheartened. 

You giggled. You giggled. You surprised yourself with the laugh that escaped you. Never in your hundreds of years of existence had you giggled at anything; much less an angel. 

“You are fascinating, did you know that?” Castiel asked you, searching your face. 

You tilted your head to the side. “I— I am?” ‘Oh, great. Now, I’m fucking stuttering,’ you thought. 

He nodded, leaning his head toward yours slowly. You allowed his lips to meet yours, and you kissed him back with a fever. His hands pushed you down onto the bed, and yours wound themselves in his hair. He held himself up with one arm and rubbed circles on your stomach with the other. 

When he pulled back from you, you were completely flustered. 

A smile spread across his face. A wide, genuine smile; one that you mirrored. You pulled him back down to you with your hands on either side of his face and rolled yourself on top of him. 

***

The last few days with Castiel had been wonderful. You were incredibly grateful he’d asked for your help with getting back to 1978, and even more grateful that you met him. 

On the fifth day of being in 1978, Castiel’s disposition changed. 

“What is it?” you asked. 

“Something’s wrong,” he replied. “I feel… my brother’s here.”

“Uh, which one?” you questioned, popping up from the bed in worry. 

“Michael.”

“Fuck, dude, we gotta get outta here, then,” you said. You moved to grab his wrist. 

“Wait!” Cas urged. “I don’t— I don’t think I’m strong enough to do this, (Y/N).”

“Yes, you can. You have to. C’mon. I’ll help, okay?” you pleaded, holding both his hands. 

He nodded trepidatiously but allowed you to begin getting you both back to the future. 

***

You and Castiel appeared just behind Sam, and he caught sight of your reflection. 

“(Y/N)? Castiel?” he breathed out. 

You helped a stumbling Cas over to the bed in the room. 

“You son of a bitch. You made it,” Dean chuckled, wrapping Cas’s free arm around his neck. 

“I— I did? I'm very surprised,” Cas grumbled earnestly before collapsing on the bed in front of you. 

“Well, I could use that drink now,” Dean told his brother. He quickly fixed one for each of you, much to your surprise. You were a bit taken aback when he held one out to you. 

“Really?” you asked him, hesitantly taking it. “You didn’t… poison it or anything, right?”

He chuckled. “No.” He raised his own cup to his lips. “Well, this is it.”

Sam’s eyes flicked to yours, confused. “This is what?”

“Team Free Will. One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six bucks to his name, a literal demon, and Mr. Comatose over there. It's awesome,” the older brother remarked. 

“It’s not funny,” Sam said.

“I’m not laughing,” the other man replied. 

“They all say we'll say yes.”

“The angels?” you asked. 

Sam nodded solemnly. 

“It’s getting annoying,” Dean grumbled, taking another swig of his drink. 

“What if they’re right?” Sam worried aloud. 

You shook your head. “They’re not.”

Both men turned to you. 

You shrugged, a deadpan expression on your face. “If Mr. Comatose can genuinely crack a smile, then anything’s possible.”

Both brothers looked confused, but you just snickered to yourself and downed the rest of your drink. 

[justwhisperingfantasies]

Memories Part 1

Characters: Dean Winchester x Female Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel. Mention of other SPN characters.

Warnings: near-death experience, language, angst (kind of), cute dean, fluff (kind of) not exactly cannon.

A/N: This is my first ever fic post. Please go easy on me. Hope you enjoy

Summary: You've had your memory wiped and sent off to your death. Sam, Dean, and Cas save you just before it is too late. the guys struggle with being strangers to you after all the years you have shared. You are forced into a life-altering dilemma.

Word count: 3,142 words

************************************************************************

This is it. This is how I die. You thought to yourself.

After all the hunts, all the monsters, all the bullshit. 

You hear the door being kicked down as you think about everything you would have done differently.

"CAS! Get over there she needs you!"

You feel arms wrap around you and then lift you as you slip into the darkness.

************************************************************************

You wake in a panic on a strange bed. Sitting up to examine your wounds, but there's none to be found. What the hell?! I should be dead. Was it all a nightmare? It couldn't have been, It felt so real! Where the hell am I? You scan the room and notice there is a small writing desk in the far left corner. A sink with a mirror above in the far right corner. A  door that was halfway open in the middle. Nothing fancy.

"(y/n)"

You turn your head in the direction of the voice. Your eyes find a man with dark messy hair, a lighthearted expression, and the bluest eyes you've ever seen.

"(y/n), Everything is alright. Don't freak out. My name is Castiel. I'm here to help. We are lucky we found you when we did."

"Umm.." just as you were about to blurt out every question that came to mind his cell phone started ringing. He gave you a soft smile and answered it.

"Dean..... Yes, she's alive... Yes, I healed them all…..  She seems to be okay. Maybe a bit confused... Sitting in the spare bedroom looking at me like I have 3 heads..... Well, I haven't gotten a chance to explain everything.... okay, see you soon."

All these thoughts and questions are swirling in your head, but you've lost the ability to talk.

"Before we get into it, do you need anything? Thirsty? Hungry? Bathroom?" Castiel asked, putting his phone away.

You Shook your head no, still at a loss for words.

"Alright then, like I said. My name is Castiel. I'm an angel..."

You laugh out loud at the world angel. "You're an angel?! Like an angel of the lord?"

"Well yes, but exactly." 

"You're an angel? And you came to save me?"

"Yes. As I was saying, we are here to help you."

"We?"

"My friends and I."

"Let me guess they are angels too." You say rolling your eyes. "Look, bud, I've seen some crazy shit in my life, but angels?!"

"With all the crazy shit you've seen in your life.." He mocked you. "Why are angels so hard to believe?" He asked with a smile on his face.

"One, I have no idea why this is so amusing to you. Two, if you are an angel of the Lord." You mocked him right back. "Then where is he? What kind of god would let there be so much evil and unnecessary death in the world?"

He chuckled "I didn't say he was a good person or that he even cares, but I know he does exist."

"Then he's not much of a god now, is he?" you were starting to get very annoyed. "okay, I believe you or whatever, can we just get to the point? Why am I here? How did I get here? Where is here? And how do I get home?"

"Well, I could have started explaining everything  if I didn't get interrupted." He stated. You couldn't tell if he was being an ass or if he didn't banter well. You made the gesture of zipping your lips. You probably wouldn't believe anything this psycho said. but you might get another good laugh. "You see (y/n) we have met before. we had this same conversation already."

"Wha.."

"Ah, I thought you zipped it?" He teased smiling 

RUN!! Your mind screamed at you but found yourself compelled to keep listening.

“Three months ago you were captured by the British men of letters,” The confusion must have shown on your face. “It's a hunting organization. They conducted a brainwash memory wipe experiment on you. Then forced you to work for them. We spent countless hours searching and trying to track you, but with your brains and their technology, it was impossible.” 

You looked up to find guilt in his eyes. You quickly looked back down as you crossed your legs and started fidgeting with your hoodie sleeve. 

“You started asking too many questions. They decided you weren't worth the risk. So they mind-wiped you once more, then sent you to your death.”

“The vampire nest,” you interrupted, an apologetic grin on your face.

“Yes. There weren't just 6 vampires living in that nest. There was about 20. You are an excellent hunter, but you couldn't handle 20 vamps that also had a heads up.”

“But how did you find me?” 

“We got a call from one of them, he explained everything and gave us your GPS information.” He explained. “Do you remember anything before the vampire nest mission?”

“Sort of. I know that I had been working for them for a while, but I don't remember the group name or any of the individuals’ names. I didn't even question it. It's like I just knew I had a mission and it had to be completed. Seems pretty damn stupid now.” you confessed as you got on your feet and started pacing near the bed. 

“y/n, you were brainwashed you can't blame yourself. They programmed you to listen not to question things.” 

“Yeah, I guess. Still, I feel so stupid. But why me? Why am I so special? Why does an angel and his friends care so much? Why would a British hunting organization come for me?” you were a good hunter sure, but not the greatest.

He was just about to answer when the sound of a familiar voice made you stop in your tracks.

“CAS?!” You had heard it earlier just before you passed out. 

“In Here” Castiel yelled back with a smile 

You heard heavy boots rush down the hall. 

You jumped at the door slamming against the wall as two brawny men bursts in. Relief washed over their faces the second they saw you.

The shorter of the two looked at Castiel for reassurance. 

“Dean. She's alright, Just confused, and maybe a bit nervous.” He had noticed your telltales signs. 

Dean looked back at you raising his eyebrows like he was waiting for your confirmation.

“Very confused, but physically I feel fine.” 

He rushed over to you, and before you could react, you were in his embrace. You were resistant at first, but the feeling of his arms wrapped around you made you feel at peace. You inhaled deeply as the sandalwood, vanilla musk that had a hint of leather and gunpowder swirled around you. It's like you could feel the anxiety drain out of you. And you couldn't help but hug him back,

“I'm sorry," he said as he untightened his arms. “I'm just really glad that you’re okay.” a touch of pink on his cheeks as he stepped back a little. 

“It's alright” you smiled at him. You were more mad that it ended rather than it happened, but there's no way you would admit it. “So Castiel, an angel of the lord. (you pointed at Cas) Dean is a strange guy who likes to hug. (you then pointed at Dean) And?.” you pointed at the towering man. You saw the hurt in their eyes even though they all tried to hide it with a smile.

‘I’m Sam.” he introduced himself. “The giant with great hair.” his smile got a little bigger. 

“Gotcha” you giggled. Your laughter eased the tension in the air a little bit.

“You got to be hungry. Let's go find something to eat,” Sam said, gesturing to the door.

“I am starving. Lead the way, Bunyan.” your lips twisted into a teasing smile. This whole situation was so weird. You actually trusted these 3 strangers. Well, they did just save your life you argued inside your head. There was more to it than that. You could feel the love and care they had for you.

He chuckled as you guys walked out the door.

Dean walked over and shut the door. “Well, it's nice she still has her banter, huh,” he said, smiling.

“Yes. although it does hurt when she looks at you like a stranger…” Castiel's words stung, but Dean knew they were so freaking true.

“We are going to fix all that. I talked to Mick on the way over. He was getting on a plane. He said he would call when They landed. That was about an hour ago. So I guess we just hang out and get tortured until he gets here.”

“Sounds great,” Castiel said sarcastically. “Dean, I don't mean to be the “Debbie downer”, but with all the crazy she's been through do you think there's a chance she doesn't want it fixed?”

Dean shot Cas a bewildered glance.

“Think about it. If you got rid of all your bad memories and bullshit, would you want it Fixed?” The sadness showed in Dean's eyes. “I'm not trying to be an asshole. Just looking At the situation and all the options.” Castiel explained. 

“Yes! I would fix it in a fucking heartbeat. I wouldn't trade my Good memories for anything.” Dean exclaimed. He couldn't help but feel hurt. He and (y/n) had some great memories. It would kill him if she chose never to get them back. “I'm gonna grab her some clean clothes. Betcha Sammie is gonna make her favorite,” he said walking towards the door.

************************************************************************

You followed Sam into the hallway. It was brighter out here with a blueish tile halfway up the wall. The upper half was a painted white drywall. All the doorways were accented with a pretty white brick.

“What the heck is this place?” you have never seen anything like it.

“Did Castiel get to the men of letters?”

“Yeah, well, the British ones.” 

“ Well, there was an American chapter too.”

“Was?”

“From What I read, back in 1958, some experiments they were doing went wrong and killed most of them The survivors were never seen again. This was their bunker. Dean and I are legacies Apparently.”

He led through a doorway that opened Into a big, beautiful library. Your eyes went wide. So many books, So much lore, and kick-ass swords on display. 

“Yeah, you always did like this room .” He said with a smile. 

“It's beautiful! I get to borrow all your books right? “

he chuckled, “I'm Pretty sure you've read most of them. 

You laughed “Too bad I can't remember any of it.”

“Shit, I'm sorry. “ he said as he closed his eyes and shook his head

“Don't worry about it, big guy. I'm just giving you shit.”

He started walking in the direction of another doorway.

“So I was thinking of making your favorite, but I can make something quicker. I'm sure Dean and Cas wouldn't mind going out even if that's what you want.”

“I can…”

“You can let me make you something.” he cut you off in a teasing tone.

You rolled your eyes “ Fine, Just whatever is easier for you. Although it would be easier if we just went out.” You had a tough time with letting people take care of you. 

You have a look around the kitchen. It was nice, very spacious. A bit dull compared to the library though. No cabinets, they had a decent-sized island with shelves under it. A baker's rack on the far side. They had a walk-in pantry and tons of fridge space. Okay, this kitchen was pretty badass you admit to yourself. The best part was the coffee machine. A Bella Pro Series Combo. It Makes a pot of coffee on one side and espresso drinks on the other. You always took coffee seriously, but you would never have thought that these guys would. 

“Do you mind if make a cup?” you asked as you walked up to the machine. 

He smiled. “Should have known. Have at it, But just a heads up you will probably be making more than one.”

“Eh, I'm okay with that. Do you want one?”

“Oh my God, yes!!” 

His reaction made you chuckle “I wouldn't peg you guys as serious coffee people.”

“We aren't really. Dean bought that for you a couple of years ago. He said he got tired of you complaining about the old one.” He smiled.  “Dean and Cas are probably gonna want one too. It's been a while since we had your coffee.”

You look up to see Dean walking in. You make eye contact and he grins from ear to ear. His bright green eyes filled with love. Your knees go weak and you can't help but mirror his smile. 

“Hey, bab…. err (y/n) I got you some clothes so you can clean up,” he said still smiling. You traded him the clothes for his coffee. Which he immediately put to his lips and sipped. “Mmmm. God I missed this.”

“So (y/n) how does (your favorite food) sound?” Sam asked. You didn't want to burden him but he just seemed so excited to make it for you. 

“That sounds amazing.” You smiled 

“Dean can show you around and I'll get started.” He said pulling food out of the fridge. 

You turned to Dean. He pointed at the extra coffee sitting on the counter “Cas.? You nodded. He picked it up then nudged his head toward the doorway and started walking. You followed. 

“How ya feelin?” He asked as you guys walked into the library. 

“ I told you I'm feeling Fine. Nothing hurts, no holes.” 

You guys walked over to Castiel. He was sitting at the first of two long wooden tables. He had a laptop in front of him and books open on both sides.

“Here bud.”  Dean handed the coffee over. 

Castiel looked up from the book in his hands. His eyes flashed to you then back to Dean. Dean smiled and nodded his head.

The excitement showed on Castile's face. “Thank you!!”  you grinned. 

Dean started walking again. You followed him into the next room. There was an open staircase on the opposite side and a huge table in the middle. As you pass the table you notice the top is a screen-like world map. He noticed you looking at it. “Sam seems to think it's some kind of radar. We can't figure out how to get the damn thing on though.” you nod as he leads you up the stairs.

“Well I'm glad Cas got you healed up, but I wasn’t asking about your physical state. You almost died, had everything healed, met an angel, and were told that you have a past life you can't remember. On top of that, you have two creepy guys smiling at you and telling you they're so glad you're back.”

“Eh, another day in the life.” you joked trying to avoid your emotions.

He could read through your bullshit. “ Seriously, I know I'm a stranger in your mind, but I’m here if you need to talk.”

“Thanks. I appreciate it. All of it.” you gave him a half smile.

Topping the stairs he pointed to a door. “And here you will find an exit on your right” he gave you his best flight attendant voice.  Of course, you laugh. How could you not? He was so adorable.

He turned around still pointing “Down there's the uh dungeon slash storage.” he turned back and started walking “Our room is this way.”

“Our room?!” you raised your eyebrows

His body stiffened a little “ roomsss. I said our rooms.”

“Oh. my bad.” 

You continue down the hallway. “Here is the infirmary. We mainly use it for storage. You walk a little ways more. “Sammy's room”  he was sorta distant now. Was he really that offended that you misheard him? Right after Sam's room, there's a doorway. “ At the end of the hall, there's a stairwell” Little ways more. “This is my room.” he clenched his jaw after he said it. The hall continues but there's also a hallway on the right. He pointed down the hall you are in “man cave, another bedroom.”

“Man cave, No girls allowed?”

“Ehh usually not, but I guess you're cool enough” Finally some of the tension eased. And he turned down the other hall. There was a door on the left. “This one is yours”.

You walk up to the door and hesitantly open it. As you turn the light on your jaw drops. It's a totally different vibe than the rest of the bunker. the floor was a wooden panel. The walls a soft white with a clock on one and art on the other, a King-size bed in the middle that had white bedding with navy blue sheets and accent pillows. There were two nightstands on each side.  A navy blue dresser sat on the same wall as the door with picture frames all along the top of it. You walked over to look at them. You picked one up, it was a young couple holding a newborn baby in the hospital. You didn't recognize them. 

“That's your folks and you.” Dean was watching you while leaning on the doorframe 

“They look happy” You picked up the next one a young couple standing with arms around each other, next to a black car. It kinda looked like you and Dean. You looked up at him asking the question with your eyes.

“Yeah, that's us when we were 17,” he reassured you as he walked over “and this is us about 2 years ago.” he pointed to a picture of him kissing you on the cheek. He pointed at another. “This one is right after you. me. and Sam finished our first hunt together. We were 22. Sam was 18.” you were in the middle of them, blood splatters all over the 3 of you. You blinked back tears. “I took this one not too long ago.” it was of you and Cas making silly faces. He pointed to one of you and an older man. “This is Bobby Singer. He was a great man. Kinda a father figure to all of us.” the last one was a group shot. Cas, Sam, Dean, (with his arm around you) Bobby the man Dean just told you about, but he was in a wheelchair, and two blondes you did recognize. You pointed at the older blonde woman and looked up at Dean. “That's Ellen, she was like your crazy cool aunt, and Jo (he pointed at the younger one.)  was like your little sister.” A tear had managed its way down your cheek. Dean wiped it away. “It's gonna be ok. We have a way to fix your memory if that's what you want.”

************************************************************************

[lucidlivi]

Fur and Fate

Requested: @deans-spinster-witch

Tag List: @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @perpetualabsurdity @antisocialcorrupt @heavenlyackles @anixiiee @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @k-slla @alternativeprincess @spnbaby-67 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @hzllxhoundxx @kmc1989 (I have my tag lists all messed up lol I'm very sorry if I missed you!)

Warnings: PTSD, Violence, Language, Service Dog Use, Trauma, Demonic Possession

switching point of view will be indicated with italics

*I just want to state a disclaimer that I am not an expert on PTSD or Service Dog Use, I did consult with someone who knows more than I do in order to write it to be more real/fair representation!

I took a deep breath trying to calm my erratic heart rate. I stared at the hooded figure walking in the grocery store parking lot. I felt a nudge against my hand, then another, a little more forceful this time.

I looked down just in time to see my service dog Sammy nudging me with his nose, trying to get me to walk away from the window. He puts his paw on my leg, trying to give me a forceful push.

I let Sammy lead me away from the window to one of the aisles. I once again tried to calm my breathing. I was trying to remember the mindfulness exercises that my therapist had taught me, but I was already spiraling at this point.

I shut my eyes tight trying to block out the images of that fateful night.

"goodnight mommy." I whispered as she tucked me in.

"goodnight my love."

"mommy?" I called before she could leave.

"yes my love?"

"when's daddy coming home?"

At eight years old I didn't understand that Daddy left for good and he wasn't coming home. He didn't love us anymore.

"I don't know my love, let's just try to get some rest." Mom said kissing my forehead once more.

I pulled the blanket up to my chin, giving my mom one last smile. I saw her switch on my night light as she exited my room. I never had a problem falling asleep. I was out within minutes, dreaming of princesses and unicorns.

I jumped hearing a loud thud coming from downstairs. I sat up rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

"mommy?" I called out in the darkness.

I heard more thumping coming from downstairs. I got up, grabbing my unicorn night light, before descending down the staircase.

"mommy?" I called again.

I walked in to the living room, seeing a man standing over my mom. He wore a black hooded sweatshirt so I couldn't see his face.

"baby run!" I heard mommy call out weakly.

I couldn't run.

I felt like my little legs were glued to the spot.

I watched in horror as the hooded figure stabbed my mom with a knife. I felt blood splatter on my face as the figure yanked the knife from her body before plunging it back in. In an instant mommy was thrown against the wall, and her body became engulfed in flames.

"mommy no!" I cried.

I'll never forget what happened after, and to this day, nobody believes what I saw.

I backed up in fear, my back hitting the bookshelf. I watched the hooded figure turn around, giving me a chance to look at his face. I tried to get a good look at him, but the only thing I saw were his eyes.

Black, and not just the irises.

No, the entire eye was pitch black.

He stared at me giving me a sickly sweet smile.

"I'll be back for you."

Those were the last words I heard before the figure disappeared.

I sat frozen in fear until I was being pulled out of the house by police officers.

I knew my mommy was gone.

I lived every day in fear of the man, his words haunting me.

I was asked to come to the police station to make an id on the suspect police were sure committed the crime, but it wasn't any of the men they brought in.

I didn't see black eyes.

Of course nobody believed the testimony of a terrified eight year old.

Mom's case ran cold, and was eventually forgotten about altogether.

Not by me though.

I felt like any day the man would be back for me.

I got the hell out as soon as I turned sixteen.

I've been living on my own since.

I eventually met a friend who told me to seek out therapy.

PTSD is what they call it. It stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was the poster child for it, it seems.

I witnessed my mother being murdered by a black eyed man.

I couldn't go out anywhere without feeling like I was going to run in to the man with black eyes. I feared for my life every second of every day.

I felt exceptionally triggered any time I saw a person with their hood up.

I felt paws digging in to my leg again. Sammy was pushing on me, alerting me that I needed to sit down so he could help me. I sat down, leaning my back against the shelf. Sammy climbed on to my lap, and leaned in to my chest, putting pressure on me. I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing tightly.

I worked on controlling my breathing, reminding myself that I am safe. It took awhile, but I eventually calmed myself down with deep breathing exercises. Sammy, noticing I was much calmer now licked my face before climbing off my lap.

I got up stretching my muscles. I was always so exhausted after an episode.

I just wanted to pay for my groceries at this point and go home. I grabbed my basket that I had dropped in my episode. I went to turn around, accidentally clamoring in to a hard chest.

"oh gosh, I'm so sorry." I heard a deep voice say.

I looked up, my eyes landing on the most beautiful man I had ever seen.

Green eyes pierced my own, as I gazed at his facial features. Freckles dusted his nose and cheeks. He licked his lips, bringing my attention to them.

"no, I'm sorry I wasn't watching where I was going." I managed to squeak out.

I was weary of most people, but this man seemed gentle, and harmless. I couldn't deny there was something about him that just seemed safe.

"are you okay?" the mystery man asks.

I chuckled softly.

I don't think I even knew the meaning of being okay.

I haven't been okay in awhile.

I was about to respond when Sammy went over to the mystery man, sniffing him, before nudging his hand. Sammy was specifically trained not to do this when he was working, but for some reason he really wanted attention from the mystery man.

"well hi buddy." the man said leaning down and scratching under Sammy's chin.

Sammy's tail wagged with delight. It seems that Sammy thought he was harmless too.

"I'm sorry, he doesn't ever do that, he's trained not too." I said, my cheeks going red.

He probably thought I had no control over my service dog.

"oh, should I not be petting him? I apologize, I didn't know." the man said standing up quickly.

"no, no its okay, he likes you." I laughed as I watched Sammy lay down so the stranger could scratch his belly.

"well I would love to know his name, and yours?" the man asked, once again giving Sammy the attention he craved.

"I'm (y/n), and this is Sammy." I said.

I watched the strangers eyes light up with amusement.

"Sammy huh? I have a Sammy too."

"you have a dog named Sammy?" I asked.

"well he's sort of like a dog, doesn’t sit or stay very well." the stranger answered, making me confused.

"Dean, what the hell I've been...." I heard a voice start to say but he tapered off when he saw me.

"meet my Sammy." the stranger, who I'm now learning is named Dean says with a laugh.

I saw the other man roll his eyes in annoyance.

"Hi, I'm Sam." He said shaking my head.

"(y/n)." I answered returning his hand shake.

Sammy didn't brush against his hand for a pet. It seems that he only did it for Dean.

"I should uh be going gentleman, sorry again for bumping in to you Dean." I spoke grabbing Sammy's leash.

I never stayed in one place for too long, it was far too risky.

"It was my fault." Dean was quick to defend.

Sammy nudged Dean once more earning a scratch behind the ear.

"see ya Sammy, take care of your mom." Dean said giving Sammy one last pet.

I smiled at the pair, heading to the front to pay for my groceries. I was relieved to see that the hooded figure was gone. I put my groceries up to scan, glancing around furiously at my surroundings.

It was something ingrained in me to do. It was my flight or fight response.

I had to make sure I had a way out of every situation.

I took note of all of the emergency exits.

I handed the cashier my money, quickly collecting the bags in my arms. I grabbed Sammy's leash heading towards my pickup truck. I saw Sammy stop abruptly, his hackles rising to signify something wasn't quite right. I glanced around the parking lot, but nothing caught my eye.

"what is it boy?" I panicked.

Sammy started to whine, putting his head in the crook of my knee to push me towards the truck. I felt my heart start to race. I quickly got in the seat, allowing Sammy to jump in beside me. As I started the truck I saw a figure illuminated in the headlights. I felt fear course through my body.

It seemed like the figure was staring directly at me.

I put a hand in Sammy's fur trying to calm my heart rate.

I saw the figure step closer, the light illuminating more of it's features. I felt my heart sink to the bottom of my chest.

Black Eyes.

"no, no." I started to cry.

He had found me.

I jumped as a hand started banging on my window. I snapped my head to the side seeing Dean standing there. I quickly turned my head back to where the black eyed man stood but he was now gone.

"(y/n) are you okay?" Dean asked opening the door.

I felt the air leave my lungs as I stared at the empty spot. I felt like my chest was burning from the lack of oxygen. Sammy noticing my breathing become heavier made his way to my lap, putting pressure against my chest. I dug my fingers in to his fur trying to calm my erratic heart rate.

"you saw it before didn't you?" Dean asked, voice laced with concern.

"my.mom." I managed to choke out between heavy breaths.

Dean ran a hand down my back trying to help me calm myself. I would've thought it a sweet gesture if I wasn't completely losing my shit right now.

I didn't know what got me more scared, the fact that it found me or the fact that it was real.

I wasn't crazy, at least I got that closure.

I buried my face in Sammy's fur going through my deep breathing exercises once again trying to calm myself. It felt like hours but I was finally able to slow my breathing down to an even rhythm. I looked over to see Dean still sat with me.

"that thing killed my mom, and now I think it wants to kill me." I voiced my concerns.

Dean gave me a look, like he knew more than he was letting on.

"it's called a demon." Dean spoke.

A demon? I didn't know what I expected but it certainly wasn't that.

"like one of those things from hell?" I scoffed.

"exactly that, look I know it sounds crazy but I can help you." Dean said.

"you're right you sound completely crazy." I growled looking at him.

I thought Dean looked gentle and safe but in reality I didn't know him at all. He could be insane for all I know. He was sounding that way with all this talk about demons.

"look you don't live in the world you think you do, okay, there are things out there, things that you wouldn't think exist but I promise you they do." Dean said.

"Dean I really can't do this right now." I said trying my best to leave the situation.

"you know in your heart that this is something more, you just don't want to believe it." Dean said adamantly.

"please, let me go." I cried.

"that's why you told the police a black eyed monster killed your mom." Dean spoke not daring to look me in the eyes.

"how the hell do you know that?" I growled, suddenly fearful of this stranger.

"I read the police report." Dean said looking suddenly guilty.

He's read about me.

He knew me.

I thought running in to him was fate, but that wasn't the case at all.

It was planned.

"go to hell Dean." I spit at him.

Dean sighed backing away from the truck. I slammed the truck door, leaning my head on the steering wheel. I sobbed, feeling like the world was slowly closing in on me.

Dean was right.

I knew this was something more.

But a demon?

No.

It can't be.

Can it?

Plus who the hell even was this guy?

He read my file.

Was he a detective?

Why help now?

Surely detectives don't believe in demons.

I pulled out of the parking lot, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out.

Dean

"way to go genius why'd you bring up the police report?" Sam asked stepping out of the shadows.

"I don't know, I was trying to help." I said running a hand through my hair.

I didn't know why this girl was having such an effect over me.

Maybe I did.

"Dean, we had a plan why didn't you stick to it?" Sam grumbled.

"you didn't exactly follow through to your part either, considering the bastard got away." I growled at my baby brother.

"Dean, I get you want to help this girl but..." Sam started but I cut him off.

"Sam, that's just it, you don't get it! I watched mom die, okay, I know the pain she feels every single day. I watched her die and there was nothing I could do." I yelled, feeling the emotions wash over me.

"Dean you were just a kid, what were you supposed to do?"

"I couldn't do anything then, but I can do something now."

Sam nodded his head in understanding.

I had a good feeling this demon could lead us to the yellow eyed demon that killed mom.

I expected to meet her, I planned it.

I knew she could help us catch this thing.

I didn't expect her to tug on my heart.

Sam and I hopped back in the impala driving back to the motel. I couldn't shake this feeling like something bad was going to happen. Although lately I felt that way all the time. It was like I was living in a nightmare, and no matter how hard I fought I just couldn't bring myself out of it. I threw my jacket down angrily.

"I feel like this bastard is always a step ahead of us." I growled, crashing on to the uncomfortable bed.

Sam was about to respond, but we heard a light scratching on the door.

"what could that be?" Sam wondered aloud.

"one way to find out." I said grabbing my pistol.

Sam grabbed his, slowly opening the door.

I was shocked to find Sammy. I looked around, noticing (y/n) wasn't with him. I felt fear in the pit of my stomach. Sammy was whining, circling around.

"I think he wants us to follow him." I said to Sam.

Sam gave me a look of concern before nodding his head. Sammy started to walk away, Sam and I hot on his trail. He led us down the road to a worn down apartment complex. I instantly noticed her truck. It was still running, and her groceries were on the ground.

"Dean this doesn't look good." Sam said noticing the scene too.

Sammy whined, pawing at my leg. I bent down wrapping my arms around him.

"I promise boy I'll find her." I said giving him a hug.

Sammy wiggled out of my arms, going towards a door and starting to paw at it.

"I don't like this Dean." Sam warned as I walked towards the door.

I ignored him, hesitantly trying the handle. It was unlocked.

I swung the door open, but the room was pitch black, leaving no visibility.

"Dean." I heard her voice say.

"I'm here, where are you?" I asked whipping around in the darkness.

I heard a sickening chuckle as the room illuminated. (y/n) stood in the corner, but I could tell it wasn't (y/n).

"leave her body now." I growled, as her once beautiful colored eyes flashed black.

"I don't know what you're talking about Dean? It's me."

"leave her body." I growled once again.

"or what? I mean you can't kill me, no because that would mean she'd die too, and you don't want that do you Dean?" the demon taunted.

the demon was right.

If I tried anything she'd die too.

"besides, I can help you."

"yeah like I'm stupid enough to trust you." I growled as the demon possessing her body started to circle me.

"I mean if you don't want to know why your mom died I guess that's your loss. I can tell you though, this one, her daddy made a deal he couldn't cash, and would you believe he traded the lives of his wife and his daughter, what kind of a man does that? I mean your mother wasn't innocent either."

I felt my blood boiling in anger.

"you don't know what the hell you're talking about." I spit.

I tensed as the demon came up, using her hand to rest on my cheek.

"oh but I do."

I grabbed her by the throat, pinning her to the wall. It hurt me to do, but I had to remind myself she wasn't herself right now.

"shut up, and let her go." I growled.

"you know you're hot when you're angry."

In a split second she had her hand on my throat throwing me to the ground. I landed with a thud, causing her to laugh.

"oh Dean this is just too easy."

"where's the yellow eyed demon." I growled.

"in a place you'll never find."

"so he's sending you to do his dirty work, is that it?" I growled.

"kind of like that, but we all have our own personal vendettas."

I could see out of the corner of my eye Sam drawing a devil's trap. I needed to lure her out there.

"let her go, or else."

"or else what, you can't kill me, I thought we were past this."

It was now or never.

I stood up slowly as she paced around me.

"you're right, I can't kill you, but that doesn't mean I can't trap you."

As soon as the words left my lips, I tackled her body out of the door, right in to the trap. I moved out of the way as the demon stood up angrily, unable to move.

"what did you do to me?"

"it's called a devils trap, and now we're going to make you leave whether you want to or not." Sam growled.

I started reciting the latin words that would exercise the demon from her body. I felt a pang of guilt as she thrashed around with each word I spoke.

I spoke the final line, and the demon left her body, causing her to collapse to the ground. Sam took the book from my hands reciting the next part of the exorcism to send the demon back to hell where it belongs. I ran into the devils trap picking up her body, just as Sam spoke the last line sending the demon back to hell.

"Sam get me a cold washcloth." I yelled cradling her limp body.

Sam ran inside the apartment, returning quickly with what I asked for. I put it to her forehead dabbing lightly while shaking her awake.

"come on, wake up." I pleaded shaking her harder.

Reader

"I won't take your life, just your soul."

I could only remember those words being spoken before I awoke with a jolt. I touched my body making sure I was still alive, and most importantly still me. I glanced up seeing the concerned eyes of Dean.

"Dean?"

"Oh thank god you're back." He sighed in relief.

I tried to sit up but it felt like my joints were on fire.

"Easy, you'll be sore for awhile, I uh kind of had to tackle you." Dean said rubbing his neck nervously before helping me sit up.

"what the hell happened to me?" I asked.

Dean explained everything.

Demons, possession, exorcisms.

It would have been pretty unbelievable if I hadn't just lived through it. He explained the deal my father made.

A deal with the devil.

I couldn't believe that my mom was gone because of him. I just hoped wherever he was, he was paying too.

Dean explained that he saw his mom die at the hands of a demon too. I felt my heart sink as he explained that he's spent all this time looking for the thing that killed her.

I gazed at him, seeing the broken person that lay underneath this tough facade.

Dean watched his mom die too. He was just as broken as I was.

I put my hand to his cheek gently caressing it with my thumb.

"Dean, you saved me."

"I had a little help." Dean said glancing towards the truck.

Sam opened the door, allowing Sammy to run out into my arms. He was wagging his tail like crazy, licking over my face.

"I missed you too boy." I smiled hugging him tightly.

Sammy jumped on Dean causing Dean to chuckle. He reached down scratching him.

"I guess it was a little bit of fur and fate." I whispered biting my lip.

"fur and fate huh?" Dean whispered, suddenly much closer than before.

"I didn't really believe in fate, but then again I didn't really believe in demons either." I said.

"and what now?"

"now, I believe I want you to kiss me." I whispered taking in his intoxicating scent.

"I can do that." Dean whispered leaning in.

I don't know if it was fur or fate, but whatever it was, I was thankful.

and for the first time since I was eight years old, I felt okay.

Author Note:

I'm sorry it took me so long to finish! I really hope you liked it! I'm forever grateful for all the love!

xoxoxo

Liv

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Husband Effect

Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff

A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!

__________

“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”

“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”

“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”

“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.

“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”

“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.

“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.

“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”

“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”

“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.

“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”

“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”

“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”

“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.

“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”

“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.

“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”

“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”

“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. 

“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.

“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.

“Please hurry Sam.”

One Week Later

“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”

“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”

“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.

“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”

“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”

“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”

“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said. 

“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”

“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.

“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.

“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”

“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”

“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away. 

“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”

“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”

“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”

“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”

“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.

“I promise, Y/N.”

“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.

“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.

“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”

“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean. 

“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.

“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”

“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”

“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”

“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”

“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”

“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“

“I do feel loved,” said Dean.

“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.

“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”

“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.

“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”

“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.

“Cool with it?” you asked.

“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”

“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.

“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.

“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”

One Year Later

“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day. 

“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”

“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”

“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.

“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.

“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”

“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”

“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”

“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.

“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.

“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”

“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.

“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.

“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”

“You got something special planned?” you asked.

“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”

“You read my mind.”

[supernaturalfreewill]

Dean's mouth was hanging open as he stared at you across the room. He watched you swipe a hand across your eyes and flick the gore off your fingers down onto the floor. "Oh shit. Oh my God. I'm so sorry," he said in a rush. He crossed the room toward you and looked you up and down. You were completely covered in blood and guts; vampire blood and guts. Dean stared down at the weapon in his hand, agape. "I didn't realize that would happen. I didn't know it would—would—"

You wiped at your mouth and spit onto the floor. "—explode him all over me?" you finished for him.

"No," he said, shaking his head. His green eyes were wide. "I'm so sorry," he said again. "Uhh—here—" He hurriedly tugged off his flannel and handed it to you with an apologetic look.

You mopped at your face, wiping the gore off as best as you could. Your eyes met Dean's again. "You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner. At least."

He nodded, giving you a boyish smile. "Does it help if I tell you how badass you look, even covered in—"

You held up a hand to stop him and squeezed your eyes closed.

"No—yeah, okay..." he muttered.

"Get me to a shower. Now," you said, thrusting his shirt back at him.

"Yeah, you got it," he said. "Uhh—you know maybe we should walk? Baby's upholstery, you know?" You glared at him and your eyes seemed to smolder. "Yeah, you know what? You're right. It's fine. I'll just clean it after—yeah... my bad. Let's just get you to the hotel and—yeah..."

Prompt: "You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner."

[theycallmequeenie]

Charmed One X Gabriel Crossover

Master List

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine:

A/N: Hey all here is part Nine of the Supernatural Charmed Crossover fic, and this one may have some triggering content to some readers, so reader discretion is advised, Talk of unaliving oneself on purpose. As always if you have issues reading anything with trigger warnings but wish to stay up to date with the story please message and I’ll send you a quick summery of this part of the fic. Any Gifs used are not of my creation as I don’t know how. If you are the maker of any Gif I used and want me to add credit to the post just let me know and I’ll tag you as the creator/ owner of said gif. Happy Reading.

Gabriel wanted nothing more than to love on her and make her feel safe, but his efforts were going unanswered as he could feel Y/N putting her walls up and trying to shut him out of her mind as she did when she wasn’t dealing well with something that was bothering her. He knew all he could do was just be there for her and try to comfort her. 

He let out an unconscious sigh and kissed her forehead and gently held her to him. He hid his surprise at her allowing him to pull her closer to him because he honestly figured that she would pull away from his touch. He noticed her silently crying even though she was doing her best to conceal it. After burying his face in her hair, he allowed himself to do the same.

Neither of them had allowed themselves to just process the reality of the events of the day. Y/N had gone from alone in the word to having three sisters, a brother-in-law, two nephews, and a little one of her own on the way that could potentially take her life as she was giving life to the little one. They were suffering from information overload among other overwhelming emotions.

They stayed like this for about an hour, silently weeping and clinging to each other trying to comfort each other and come to terms with everything that had transpired. They separated just enough to see the other’s faces, Gabriel looked concerned, and Y/N looked heart broken. There was a question burning into his mind, but he was almost too afraid of the answer to ask it. The operative word being almost. He needed to make sure his fears were just that fears and not his instincts raising red flags.

Gabriel gently cleared his throat and began to speak in a soft loving tone, “Babes, I have a question that I have to ask, and I know it’s going to probably upset you, so I need to you promise me you won’t run on me again.” He paused and waited for a response from Y/N, which he got in the of an ‘ugh’ expression on her face and a reluctant nod. He steadied himself and looked deep into her eyes and spoke in an unfamiliar serious tone, “Y/N, did what almost happened tonight the result you were looking for?”

Y/N went pale at the question. She honestly hadn’t thought that her needing time alone to digest everything could have been perceived as her trying to get killed. She had a deep frown on her face as she herself ran through all the questions she assumed Gabe had running through his mind and thought a few of her own. Was this a subconscious attempt? Did she actual do that hoping for that outcome? She shook the thoughts and questions out of her head. 

Y/N’s face went emotionless as she started to speak, “Okay never mind the implied gaslighting in that question. How could you ever think that?” Her voice was gentle and soft her tone was one of disbelief. There was no sign of anger from her. “Gabriel, I would never do anything that would take me from you. Earlier I just wanted a few minutes of solace to cope I didn’t plan to end up on top of the Golden Gate. Mind you that view was gorgeous.” She added the last bit in an attempt for levity.

It fell flat. This was one time Gabriel wasn’t in the mood for jokes. Shaking his head he pressed the issue with a flat, “That wasn’t an answer, Y/N, that was avoidance.” Gabe wasn’t backing down on this. He had to know for sure.

Y/N let out an exasperated sigh, “No Gabriel. What happened, almost being smited, was not the end game earlier. There are you satisfied now?”

Y/N got off the bed and started pacing the floor of the room and hugging herself. Trying to calm her nerves. She couldn’t figure out why she was so upset by his question. So she decided to try again to change the subject, “Can we please just decompress and listen to Phantom of the Opera?” 

Gabe knew what she was asking. Phantom was her comfort movie. Has been as long as he’s known Y/N. Against his better judgment he nodded in agreement and snapped his fingers turning the tv on as it started playing the opening to the movie. He pulled back the covers and patted the bed silently asking her to join him. 

She did thankful for him letting the subject drop. She didn’t need the added stress right now anyway and they both knew that. She’d had enough of that for one night. She clung to Gabriel desperate for comfort.

Gabriel held onto her and did what he could to comfort Y/N. It started out with him humming along to the opening then he was softly signing along and by the time the movie ended he had been singing gently to Y/N in Enochian lulling her into a soft sleep.

To Be Continued… 

Part Ten

 @disfunctionalcellmembrane  @misskitty1912-blog

[arjwrites]

˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖ my masterlist ˖°.𓆩♡𓆪 .°˖

about/rules

requests: closed (but not for long!)

100 FOLLOWER EVENT: REQUESTS OPEN <3

100 follower event masterlist

SAM WINCHESTER X READER

Close- fluff, fem!reader Summary: Reader breaks her arm on a hunt and needs some somewhat intimate assistance. Who does she ask for help but Sam Winchester, with whom she shares a silent, mutual pining????

Take A Picture, It'll Last Longer- fluff Summary: While hunting with the Winchesters, you had picked up a disposable camera to capture some memories. Each photo represented an important point in your collective journey- all the while, hinting at a budding connection behind the scenes. 

Close Behind- angst, gn!reader Summary: You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to Sam- and that scares the hell out of him. Based on the song “Close Behind” by Noah Kahan. 

Heaven Hellbent- angst, fem!reader Summary: When a hunt goes wrong, Sam discovers a secret you've been keeping for years. Part 1 of the series! DEAN WINCHESTER X READER

Back on the Beach- fluff, angst, gn!reader Summary: Reader and the Winchesters find themselves at the beach for a rare day off after a long string of difficult hunts. Something about the special day changes things forever.

Bless the Broken Road- angst, fem!reader Summary: A glimpse into the broken road that led Dean Winchester to you. Based on "Bless the Broken Road" by Rascal Flatts.

Times You Threatened to Kill Dean Winchester- fluff, angst, gn!reader Summary: A brief account of all the times you wanted to kill a certain hunter.

The Space Between- fluff, a little bit of spice, gn!reader Summary: Reader breaks their arm on a hunt and needs a little assistance. Dean version of Close (Sam x Reader)

In The Stillness- angst, fluff, fem!reader Summary: A glimpse into the ways you've impacted Dean Winchester CASTIEL X READER

Numb- angst, comfort, winchester sister!reader Summary: Reader is Sam and Dean’s sister. After a series of unfortunate events, she finds herself separating from her brothers to deal with her own shit the only way she knows how. Castiel, however, has a few things to say about it. 

Saving Grace | Part 2- gn!reader Summary: Cas is hurt after a hunt, and when he's hurting, you're hurting. Sometimes even an angel needs a helping hand.

Saving Grace Epilogue- gn!reader Summary: Ways the world has softened since uniting with your angel. Can serve as an epilogue or stand alone!

Lessons on Humanity- gn!reader Summary: Human!Cas arrives on your doorstep in need of a helping hand. Taking him under your wing, you offer him more than he bargained for.

GABRIEL X READER Long Day- gn!reader Summary: After a stressful day, a familiar face pops in for a visit. With snacks.

CROWLEY X READER coming soon (leave a request!)

[castiwls]

the prophecy - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'please change the prophecy'

Requested;anon? (i can't see the req in my inbox so if it was you and you didn't req on anon pls lmk)

Notes;so sorry this took so long <3 p.s reqs and inbox are open again :)

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

Love had always been a complicated thing. It seemed to come easy enough yet slip away even easier. Sam knew falling for you could be a fatal mistake for both him and you, yet he did it anyway.

He ignored that voice in the back of his head which picked and picked at him about how asking you out would only end in heartache. How being around him put you in danger, how simply knowing his name placed you in danger.

The voice continued to nag at him every waking moment. It reminded him constantly that every day could be your last, that when you met your end it would be his fault.

“Sam.” A hand on his chest pulled his attention from his thoughts. Your smile was bright as you lay on your side gazing at him. Pushing yourself up you lent your head on your hand. “What’s wrong?” 

He stared at you for a moment before shaking his head. “Nothing. Just can’t sleep.” He spoke quietly. You hummed quietly looking at the wall for a moment. “Really?” You looked back to him moving now to sit up fully, crossing your legs under you.

You knew him too well. Taking one look at him was enough for you to know that something was up. That the voice inside his head was winning again. 

“I’m fine. Seriously.” He sent you a weak smile reaching out to place a hand on your thigh. 

“No. No your not.” You shook your head. 

He let out a quiet sigh before moving to sit up against the headboard. He would never admit to you how he really felt. Admitting it would only make it real and he was determined to prove those thoughts wrong.

He was determined to keep you safe. To break the pattern.

He opened his arms reaching out for you. Taking the hint you moved into his arms, falling back against his chest your legs tangling with his. “I’m not gonna die.” You whispered after a moment.

Your words caused his breath to catch in his throat. His arms which were wrapped around your middle instinctively squeezed you closer. “Don’t say that.” He mumbled pressing his face into your hair. 

Ice-cold fear ran through him as he tried to calm his breathing. People had said that to him before. Most of those people ended up dead.

Sam had never asked for much in his life. Food, a warm place to sleep, all the normal things anyone wanted. His wishes had always included someone who could give him that love and affection he craved so desperately and now he had that the thought of losing it left him frightened in a way he’d never been.

“I mean it. I’m not going anywhere.” You turned your head slightly, moving your arm back to gently cup his face. “Promise me…promise me you’ll stay.” He stared down at you, eyes wide like a child who was afraid of the dark.

Accept it wasn't the dark he was afraid of.

“I promise.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut holding you impossibly closer as you gently stroked his cheek.

Maybe you were right. Maybe you were the exception, you would be the one who stayed. You’d be the one who he managed to keep safe. He knew nothing was for certain, no one could tell the future. 

[winchester-girl67]

Cravings (Part 2)

Summary: Post-claim, Dean and the reader enjoy a lazy day at her place when she tells him that she wants to bite him back.

Part 1

Pairing: Alpha!Dean x Omega!reader, Baker!Dean x pregnant!reader

Square: True mates @spnaubingo​

Word Count: 3,529

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, non-traditional true mates, pregnant reader (Dean is not the father), unplanned pregnancy, pregnancy cravings, morning sickness, mentioned/implied one night stand, mature themes, smut adjacent touching/kissing/cuddling, implied smut, light/brief smut, language, mostly fluff

A/N: For those of you who wanted more of these two. Sorry this took so long, I haven't been able to write much lately. Also written for @spnaubingo​. Enjoy!

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"Hmm, you like that?"

"Oh my gosh... Yes, Alpha. Harder!" You ordered and he happily obliged.

Then you whimpered, your foot jerked and Dean froze, "Are you okay, Y/N? Is it too much?"

"Don't stop," You sing-songed and he chuckled between purrs as he continued to circle his thumbs. "Right there, so strong, Alpha. I love you."

"Wow, you're really enjoying this," he hummed, taking pleasure in giving you pleasure.

"Mhm," you nodded, "I can't remember the last time someone massaged my feet. This feels A-MA-ZING!"

Your hums started to vibrate in your chest, you couldn't remember a time where anyone had been this attentive with you. Your eyes watered a little but you were too content to let the tears fall.

The pregnancy had your feet and ankles so swollen already and you didn't even have to say anything for Dean to notice. One of the many benefits of your new bond. He just felt what you felt and vice versa.

Even during Dean's rut -which only lasted a couple days, just long enough to get you both out of spending Christmas with family- when he mated you for the first time, he was tender and loving. You tried to present for him but he flipped you over onto your back, wanting to feel every inch of what was about to be his. Forever. Every promise of what your future together held.

Then he bit and you were claimed.

That was near two weeks ago now and Dean hadn't spent a single night at his house since. All that was left was to officially move him into your house and make it a home.

There was really no reason to wait, no second thoughts on the claiming from either of you either. Dean agreed to move since he knew moving a pregnant omega could be upsetting and enough had already changed quite quickly. He was just happy you accepted the change; having an alpha in your life, in your house, when you said you never wanted one.

Dean was different, though. He wasn't your typical breed, you would've thought alphas like him didn't exist anymore; if he wasn't currently digging his fingers into your flesh in the most pleasurable -non-sexual, for the most part- way right now.

You didn't have to let him claim you, because he would never force you, and he was determined to show you he loved you endlessly for it. For choosing him.

Your house was also slightly bigger and had your scent infused into the walls and carpeting. It wasn't a hard sell to a rutting alpha at the time. Plus, this way he would be able to sell his house to his brother who'd been searching for a home for a while with his mate. They were trying to expand their family themselves, but hadn't had much luck lately.

Dean talked about his little brother a lot but you hadn't met him, or Jess. Sam and Dean planned to move over his stuff soon though, so you'd get to meet them then.

You were nervous because Sam wasn't apparently all that thrilled about you joining their pack without being introduced to you first. Dean explained that it had less to do with you and more to do with his dating history. Dean's past with omegas rivalled yours with alphas. Apparently the wrong omegas take advantage of tender alphas.

He was your forever. You wouldn't do anything to hurt him, you were a team, a partnership and you're supposed to build and grow together not tear each other down. Sam would see that when he met you.

Dean's hands slid up your legs, his strong fingers massaging the muscles of your calves and you felt like you were melting back into the couch. All you could think of was watching him make bread yesterday at the bakery. The way he folded and kneaded the dough in front of you. Except now you were the dough and his palms gripped and molded the soft flesh of your legs.

You never wanted this to stop.

You didn't even notice when you completely sunk onto your back, lengthways, until Dean's hands slid higher up your legs to your hips as he crawled over you. One of his palms felt the skin of your inner thigh as he pushed up your maternity dress with the other, revealing your swollen belly.

"Fuck. You're a sight, sweetheart." He sighed happily, sitting between your legs and holding a palm on your bump.

The pup rolled and Dean followed the movement until he felt a little kick on the side of your stomach. He purred so loud you almost thought he was growling, if it wasn't for his almost unbearably sweet scent -it was a far turn from the salty musk when you first met him, he was happy now- and he bent over you to place a kiss to your belly, below your navel and to the side. You loved him like this, already bonding with the pup as if it were his own.

As far as you both were concerned, the pup was his now; blood had nothing to do with it. His claim included every extension of you, you could feel it. You were a family.

Gosh, he was a beautiful man. If more alphas were like him, less omegas would feel the need to suppress their natural cycles. You often wondered how nobody snatched him up before you did. You were beyond thankful no one did.

"You're carrying high," Dean determined, feeling up your stomach with both hands.

"And," you laughed and caught his wrists as he roamed higher up your dress towards your swollen breasts.

"That means, it's a girl." He smiled softly and leaned over you to kiss you on the lips as he held your ribs. You hadn't found out the pup's gender yet, you wanted to be surprised. "I fucking love you. So fucking much. Fuck."

Tears welled in his forest green eyes and he swallowed his purrs with his emotions. He cleared his throat and kissed you again. His mouth hugged your bottom lip with a quiver and his tongue licked the tip of your nose when he pulled away. He didn't like letting you see his emotions get the best of him and he was trying to distract you, but with the bond you felt everything he was feeling. Fear and excitement but mostly a need for comfort, a reassurance in your new bond.

You tangled your fingers in his soft hair and moved his head to the crook of your neck, where your mating gland was. He turned his face and pressed his nose to the claim, inhaling and fermenting your bond instantly with a single scent.

A calm rushed over him and you tugged him up by his hair for a needy kiss. Dean groaned, his chest heating and lungs rumbling against you with a violent, growling purr.

"Alpha," you whimpered against his lips, wanting more of him.

He gave 'alpha' every meaning of the word.

Instinct took him over and he pushed your dress up your chest, exposing your breasts. His lips found your puckered flesh as he massaged the tension from your sensitive mounds.

Forget dough, you were putty in his massive and capable hands. His fingers worked every inch of you like he read your mind. But you still whimpered, needing more.

"I know, Omega, I know." He cooed, "I got you, baby. It's okay."

He tugged your panties down your legs, throwing them aside to the floor and slotted himself back between your thighs. His sweatpants, still separating your skin from each other and you snapped at him.

Dean laughed and leaned over to kiss you again.

You scented him and your teeth ached with a need to claim him -which you still hadn't done, it didn't need to be done to cement the bond and alphas typically didn't like to bear a claiming mark- but you refrained, now wasn't the time. You didn't want him to reject the claim, so you'd bring it up when your heads were clearer.

You clenched your jaw shut instead and enjoyed his touch.

After your little romp in the living room, you watched Dean make dinner as he strained the pot of spaghetti over the sink.

"D," you said, "you do know that carrying high doesn't mean anything, right? It's an old wives' tale. We could still be having a boy."

"I know," he shrugged, rinsing off the pasta and shutting off the element to the stove, turning the second one down to let the tomato sauce simmer. "I just have a gut feeling."

You knew Dean wanted a girl, a little princess to spoil rotten, but you wouldn't be heartbroken if you got a little prince instead. Either way, you could always try again for the one you didn't get. You always wanted to fill your home with lots of pups, eventually move out to the country with a picket fence, a big yard for them to run wild in and a long driveway to learn how to ride their bikes.

It was a dream you gave up on long ago but Dean revived it just by being himself.

"How much do you think I eat?" You gawked at the super-sized bowl of pasta Dean served you.

You were a little over five months pregnant, but it was still a lot of food.

"The pup needs the nutrition. Just eat what you can." He said and kissed your forehead.

Dean spooned some sauce on top of your mountain of spaghetti, holding the lid of the pot under the spoon as he did so. You beamed up at him, getting butterflies like the first day you knocked on his door and padding away to the table with your bowl of pasta like a trophy.

Dean was the real trophy, but you liked the food, too.

He served himself next, using a plate instead because he liked to cut the noodles. You told yourself it was because he was a baker, not a chef; a real chef would never cut spaghetti. You liked the bowl because it made less of a mess when you twirled the noodles onto your fork.

Dean joined you at the table and hummed around his food, clearly happy with his recipe. You, on the other hand, thought something was missing after your first forkful. It just tasted off.

"Something wrong with the food, sweetheart?" He mumbled, slurping bits of spaghetti back into his mouth that tried to escape as he spoke. "Want me to make you something else?"

"No, no," you waved him off, the man was catering to no end when it came to your cravings. "It's just missing something."

You padded back to the adjoined kitchen and Dean studied you as you searched the cupboards, not really even sure yourself what you were looking for.

Until you found it.

You made your way back over to the table with your prize in hand. A clear plastic case, housing round, golden-wrapped, hazelnut and wafer chocolates. Dean stared with a grin plastering his cheeks as you unwrapped three of them and stuck them on top of your pasta mountain.

The chocolate immediately started to melt in the heated tomato sauce and it smelt heavenly. Your mouth watered and you sniffed the air above your bowl.

"Mmm," Dean hummed hesitantly like he wasn't sure if that was going to satisfy you or make you sick, but he didn't stop you.

You twirled equal amounts spaghetti and melted-chocolate-meatball onto your fork, shoving it into your mouth before it fell into your lap. You chewed for a moment -watching Dean take another bite of his chopped meal and swallow- before you decided you couldn't and spit it back into your bowl.

"Yuck," you groaned, wiping the taste from your tongue with your palm. "Ugh. Sorry, D, I can't eat this."

That was not heavenly tasting, it was disgusting.

"That's all right, tell me what you want instead and I'll make it." He said, standing from his seat to give you a peck on the cheek and clear away your plate when you heaved at the smell.

Morning sickness never really went away, it just got sneakier.

Your tastebuds were off today and Dean made a series of your favourites, which you ultimately couldn't eat, before you settled on toast. After your first slice, though, you followed your nose and let the pup tell you what it wanted, that included toast with a dollop of honey and a mashed banana spread.

Dean reheated his meal, finally content you had something to eat and smiled at his happy omega.

After dinner, you crawled into your king-sized bed to watch a little TV comfortably with your mate. The nest of blankets and pillows had only gotten bigger with the addition of Dean's bedding -which he'd been slowly moving over a little at a time, same with his clothing, which packed the walk-in closet full of flannels. The rest of his stuff was left waiting for Sam to come by to help, although you suspected most of Dean's furniture would be left behind for his brother, who was living in an apartment at the moment and didn't have a lot of furniture to begin with.

You snuggled into Dean, barely giving him any room to get comfortable and threw your leg over his, pushing your knee into the space between his thighs so your hips hugged his leg. Dean was used to being used as your body pillow by now and he purred, nuzzling the top of your head. He flipped on a baking competition show for some background noise and you placed your hand over his heart to feel the strong thump against your palm.

A calm washed over you that you knew came from him and the claim and you lightly scratched your nails over his ribs lovingly. Your alpha was content and you fucking loved being able to feel every emotion without having to scent him like before. That being said, you still loved the sweet, warm scent of him when he was truly happy.

You slid your hand under his shirt and palmed the love handle above his hip. Squishy, warm flesh filled your palm and you dug your nails in possessively. Dean growled when you gripped a little too hard. He was all muscle but he didn't need to be sculpted with rock hard abs to prove it, he was soft and hard in all the right places and you loved his tummy.

"You okay, Y/N?" Dean asked and stopped purring.

You realized he was probably picking up on a little insecurity coming from you. You didn't even notice that was what you were feeling until he asked. Something was on your mind though.

"D, do you think we're true mates?" You asked, nuzzling his scruffy chin with your nose.

"Honestly, I don't know." Dean wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you to lay half on top of him.

You tried to adjust your swollen belly so you weren't making him uncomfortable but he just tugged you back in closer. Your leg still nestled between his but your bump now pressing into his hip.

"But," you started but stopped and instead laid your head on his big shoulder.

"What is it, sweetheart?"

You couldn't hide anything off feeling with this bond, that was going to take some getting used to.

"What if another omega comes along and they're your true true mate, meanwhile you've already claimed me?" You muttered, brushing your fingers over his unmarked mating gland.

Typically only omegas bore the claim, but you would've liked him to have one, too. A mark that meant he was yours.

"I. Love. You."

"But-"

"No buts. It's a fairytale, Omega." He growled, not liking your implication.

You pulled your hand away from his gland and wiggled your hips until he released you and let you roll onto your side, facing away from him. It didn't happen often, but you didn't like when he took that tone with you.

The alpha tone.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, I just don't want you ever to think I'll leave you, for any reason. I love you, that means something to me." He sighed and rolled over to tuck you into his chest as he spooned you from behind. He kissed the crown of your head and wrapped an arm around your waist to keep you grounded to him. "I mean, it's a little ridiculous to think that an alpha and omega will find and make each other happy just because it was meant to happen and they're instantly attracted to each other. If true mates are real, and that's a big 'IF', it's just about compatibility but even compatible people need to put work into their relationship. There's zero guarantee of a perfect romance, no matter what, and just because you're true mates, doesn't mean you'll make each other happy. A neglected mate is a neglected mate, despite the amount of stars that had to align in order to pair them together. So let me ask you this, are you happy with me, Omega?"

"Absolutely, I am." You sniffled and found his hand on your waist, sliding your fingers between his large ones. "Are you happy with us, Alpha?"

"Incredibly so." He kissed down your cheek and nuzzled your claim, teasing it with his teeth. You shivered and purred softly at his nips. "Then to answer your original question... because I'm happy and I know we'll never give up on each other even on our worst day, despite our imperfections, and because I am truly, deeply, helpless in love with you. Both of you." He moved your entwined hands to rest on your bump, "Yes, I believe that makes us true mates... And it doesn't hurt that you smell so good."

"I wanna bite you," you breathed.

Dean laughed hard and his chest shook against your back, "What was that, my little Omega?"

You hardly felt little these days, being practically swollen everywhere, but you liked the way he saw you.

"I want to claim you, too." You explained and turned in his arms to face him.

He brushed the hair from your cheek behind your ear, "We're already bonded, Y/N, it won't change anything if that's what you're thinking. The bond only cements feelings that are already there and links us together through our emotions, we already have that."

"I know, but- I just always told myself that if I was claimed, I would claim my alpha back." You said, wetting your lips and circling your fingertips over his gland again.

"You want to claim me, for the sake of claiming me?"

"I want to claim you because when you marry, you both wear rings." You murmured, placing small kisses over his gland and trying to entice him.

"We could just get married-"

"Is my big alpha afraid of a little bite?" You chuckled against his skin and you felt him flush against your lips.

"Pfft, no." He said unconvincingly.

"I'll make it enjoyable," you promised, pushing him onto his back and crawling on top of him. "You won't even feel it."

It wasn't a lie. If you claimed him the same way he claimed you, it would feel like a pinch at most. You nipped at his neck and felt a nervous shiver race through his body, your teeth nibbling his flesh.

"I won't do it if you don't want me to." You kissed the burning skin covering his mating gland and he shuttered again.

"I want you to claim me, Omega." He said and you met his gorgeous, green eyes. Then he teased, "Just, please, be gentle. It's my first time, sweetheart. But I trust you, baby."

He pushed his sweatpants down and your nightie up to your hips, then rocked into you and before long, you fell into him and bit. Your claim marring the perfect, freckled skin of his neck beautifully.

You licked at the mark as you laid on top of him, satiated as you cleaned away the few drops of blood despite the gross copper taste on your tongue. He'd done the same for you with your claim, something in the saliva of alphas and omegas help it heal quicker and not get infected.

You hummed against him, your belly pressing into his and your breasts flattened against his ribcage. Both your chests rumbling with a harmonized purr.

None of this was in the cards for you, not if you thought about it months ago. It's incredible how much can change in such a short amount of time.

"I still wanna marry you," Dean murmured in your ear.

His nose trailed down to your neck and buried into your scent. Dewy skin making the smell stronger as big hands roamed up your nightie and over your bare back. He held you to him gently like you'd float away if he let go, or pop if he held too tight.

Dean was a gentle giant of an alpha and he was all yours.

"Okay."

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Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

Cravings: @hogwarts--imagines