#also they way it's always dean's heart that kills him !!!

[angelsdean]

when dean literally got a gay man's heart hitsssss 😭 a healthy gay heart to replace a dying gay heart 😭

[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

→ premise: all of deans life pain has always ran parallel to love. he needs them both, he needs you to hurt him and take the pain away all at the same time, turns out you were more than willing to, you may even need it reciprocated.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2.3k words, small bit of angst that turns quickly into smut | 18+, kinda switch!dean, pain kink [slapping, biting, pinching, scratching, etc], praise kink [both reader and dean], unprotected sex, small bit of choking, multiple mentions of blood & reader nearly dying

→ a/n: kinktober 08

Dean was accustomed to pain, he learned to tolerate and push through it from a young age as his father hammered into him that it was his job to always look after Sam and conditioned him to become a hunter. Love always came alongside pain in his life, losing everybody he ever cared deeply for; it happened so often that he began to associate one with the other. And so somewhere along the way he came to yearn for both pain and love as he felt they always came together. When Dean began having feelings for you, he was scared like he’s never been before. He avoided telling you for a couple of years simply because he thought if he voiced it out loud then he'd lose you like he did everyone else.

However when a demon came very close to killing you when you were being reckless, that scared Dean a hell of a lot more and in a screaming match about it he revealed his feelings on accident.

“You couldve fucking died, ya’ know that right? If me and Sam got there even a minute later you’d have been laying in my arms dead not just unconscious” when he mentions sam, he gestures towards the couch in the small motel room where the younger brother last sat. Though when he turns to look over hoping for backup he finds Sam gone, he groans out in annoyance. Sam had figured it was best to leave the two of you to your fighting alone, yes he was also upset with your careless decision but not as heated as his brother.

“Well I didn't okay? I can take care of myself. I had it under control!” you scream out, punching your words out to get your point across, flailing your arms in frustration though the fast movement aggravates your injuries making you wince slightly. Seeing you in pain makes Dean stop short for a second, a ping in his chest as his heart aches, it however only morphs into making his blood boil more when the memory of finding you beaten and bloody on the floor of that warehouse flashes in his head. “I'm sooo glad you can take care of yourself, but what about me HUH?!” He screams out, sarcasm dripping from his voice until the latter half with his question where it breaks off taking you back. Confusion crosses your face but before you can say anything back to him he continues.

“I dont know what I’d fuckin’ do without you, im so pathetically and utterly in love with you that the thought of you dying makes me wanna lie in the dirt just so i can be buried with you!” he had been stepping closer and closer as he yelled out in frustration, not realizing exactly what he just said. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline from his confession and proximity coursing through your veins.

“You love me..?” Your voice comes out softer than Dean swears he's ever heard it before and it melts all the anger out of his body. He knew there was no turning back now that he blurted that out and even though he was worried more than ever, he couldn't stand not being with you anymore. “I think i fell in love the moment i met you sweetheart” he sighs and brings his rough hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t noticed we're slowly falling from your eyes. After a long stretch of comfortable silence as the tension of the fight has dissipated you speak up.

“Would you just kiss me already ya’ idiot” you tease, smiling softly at him through your tears as you stare deep into those stupid green eyes that turn your brain to mush.

Using his hold on your face he pulls your lips against his in a desperate kiss, trying to drown out all the swarming negative voices in his head. Your soft lips mold against his perfectly and he thanks any and every god he can think of for letting him have something he knows he doesn’t deserve. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss back, the fight over your thoughtless decision not forgotten but put on the back burner. You were deans the second you told him to kiss you and if you thought you were gonna be able to continue with your bad decisions boy were you in for a surprise, he just finally got you he wasn't ever letting go now. You grab at his chest, your hands balling up his shirt as you try pulling him impossibly closer deepening the kiss. In a tangled mess of limbs and mouths still latched to one another’s you and Dean tumble back and fall down onto the rundown motel bed. Dean landed on his back in the middle cushioning your fall with you landing on top of him between his legs.

“Baby..” he mumbles against your lips making your heart skip a bit at him calling you a name normally reserved for his impala. He even squeezes your hips lightly to break your focus from the make out.

“I need you to do something for me” he groans out as the kiss heats up and your tongue slips in his mouth during his statement, your hands running all over his chest and arms. Your body was pressed up to his, hips flush against each other making it impossible for you not to feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Anything, what do you need, baby?” You question, desperate to please him and more than willing to do whatever he asks. Now Dean was well aware if he said jump you'd ask how high, he just hoped this request as odd as it was didn‘t make you run for the hills.

Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath as well as watch your face when he tells you what he needs. You open your eyes and look at him with that same sparkle they always hold when your gaze is locked on him. His cock was getting painfully hard now from the mixture of the make out session and your body so close to him.

”I- shit okay im just gonna say it uh. I need you to hurt me. I just- I need you to get the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood barely breathing out of my head” he rambles, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears with how pathetic it comes out. He silently prays you won't just get up and walk out of his life at his weird desire. He avoids eye contact when you are still silent after a minute. A fire ignites in your body and settles in your core as a million and one thoughts are running through your head at the speed of light. Every single last one however being the different things you wanna and finally get to do to Dean.

You grab ahold of Dean’s face squeezing it as you turn it so he is looking at you again. You now have a small taunting smile on your face, your nails are lightly digging into his cheeks making his cock twitch. “I can do that, but can you be a good boy?” You teasingly question as you lean up maneuvering your body so you're straddling his hips, peering down on him. The sight of you on his lap, thighs spread either side of his body and lust blown hooded eyes staring down at him knocks the breath from his lungs. It's an image pulled from his many dirty depraved dreams of you that riddled him with guilt but now it's a reality, his wonderful heaven like reality.

He frantically nods his head yes while your hand not pinching his face is working at undoing his belt.

“Gonna be such a good boy, can be s’good for you baby” he huffs out and lifts his hips to help you out as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You let go of his face and dean has to fight back an actual whine when the small sting of pain leaves with it. Though he swallows his complaint as he watches you strip yourself of your dirty still blood soaked t-shirt, going at a teasingly slow pace when you undo your own belt pulling it through the loops and discarding it on the floor besides his pants. “Come on don't be a tease sweetheart please” he softly begs as he grabs your hips, thrusting his up to grind his bulge against your core. The rough fabric of your jeans sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine as it rubs over his aching boxer covered cock. You bite back a moan and slap his chest to stop him before lifting your body up to help you rid yourself of your remaining clothes. He is not fat behind you, nearly ripping off his shirt and tugging down his boxers making his leaking cock bounce free between your bodies.

Saliva practically pools in Dean's mouth at the sight of you stripped bare for his eyes scanning over every inch of you. Your thighs spread back over his hips leaving your pussy on display for him, your slick coating his cock as your hips take up his previous action of grinding. “Such a good boy” you praise and lean down digging your nails into his sides, the pain making his eyes screw shut in bliss. Lifting your hips once again this time however sinking your pussy down onto his throbbing cock. Your slick and his precum help to aid your cunt into taking every inch of Dean's cock to the base as you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. The mixture of stinging pain and sweet praise and pleasure drown out all bad thoughts, all images that were flashing in Dean's head of your limp body unmoving and bleeding fade from his head finally, his only thought being of how good you feel.

“Mhmm~” He whines out in pleasure and surprise, the sound muffled in your mouth. Your hips immediately set into a rhythm of grinding and softly bouncing, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and his tip hitting your cervix when you bounce down. “Ah- Ahh~ fuck sweetheart knew this fuckin’ pussy feel amazing” he grunts out, his fingers holding onto your hips in a bruising grip that has your head spining. You bite down on his plush bottom lip in retaliation making a small almost growl erupt from his chest. The sound vibrates through your body to your core making your hips flatter a bit and a whine escapes your lips.

Within the blink of an eye dean has your legs wrapped around his waist when he sits up and flips your position breaking the kiss. Laying you flat on your back with him nestled between your thighs his cock still buried deep inside you. “Dean~” your whimper morphs into a wanton moan when his hips start at a punishing pace, your slick already forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock as it pounds into you. His heavy balls smacking your ass creating an obscene noise that fills the room with your moans and his grunts. “As much as i love how you sound and wanna hear it for the rest of my life baby, you gotta be quiet sweetheart” he taunts as his hand slips up the side of your body to palm at your bouncing tits. you whine out and paw at his lower stomach and v-line almost pushing him away slightly to stop his tip from abusing that one spot deep inside you. “Mm~ I can’t, it s’good, feels too good, i needa cum” you whine out your words slurring together as the knot in your stomach tightens. “Aww well don't want the staff or other guests hearing you scream my name now do we?” He questions with a small smirk that morphs into an almost slack jawed look when your nails dig into his back and drag down. The stinging pain of you scratching at his back so hard he's almost certain you drew blood makes his hips speed up even more.

“Bite down on my shoulder to muffle yourself when you cum okay baby?” He softens a bit though his hips don't slow down, you nod desperately in understanding. “That’s my good girl” he beams at you praising you in a sweet tone making your pussy clench down on his cock.

You grab at his hand that rests on your breasts and pull it up to your neck hoping he gets the message. A smile forms on his lips as what you want registered in his head, you wanted pain the same as him. Dean didn't think he could love you anymore than he did and yet as his hand wraps around your throat his heart swells, you're the same as him, you needed pain with the love and pleasure, he was the luckiest fucking man alive in this moment. He smirks and softly kisses your lips as he leans down and his cock somehow reaches even deeper inside you.

The new angle causes the knot in your core to snap and your high to crash into you, making you pull away from his mouth and bury your face in his shoulder. Baring your teeth you bite down a bit hard onto his shoulder to muffle your loud moans and cries as you cream on his cock. “Oh fuck yeah, there we go sweetheart good girl baby” he praises, his head going foggy in pain and pleasure as his climax hits him head on, spilling his cum deep inside you not caring about the loud noises that leave his own mouth.

→ a/n: as always this wasnt proofread and its late, whos shocked? anyway i got a bit carried away well more like a lot. this is only my second time writing for dean and i got excited i really like writing for him. It is however my first time writing smut for him so sorry if hes out of character.

[bettystonewell]

ANOTHER NOTCH ON HIS BELT

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Every little part of him is holding onto every little piece of her, and any other woman he’s been lucky enough to escape his life with. Even if it’s only for the night - or - Dean replaces intimacy with sex. 18+ only

Word Count: 1.2k words

Tags/Warnings: lil’ bit of SMUT, casual sex, Dean needs a hug, light angst

A/N: Summary inspired by the lyrics of the song “Tough” by Lewis Capaldi.—————————————————————Read on AO3 || Masterlist

He loves the sex. 

Needs it. 

Craves it. 

The closeness it gives him. The warmth of someone else surrounding his hardened body. Touching, feeling, writhing below or on top of him. He doesn’t care. 

Even with the scrapes and bruises he doesn’t remember which ugly bastard he ganked giving them to him, he’s not ashamed. He just wants to fill up his heart with affection to get him through the next death he knows is inevitable, no matter how hard he tries.

It’s something he can’t escape, except maybe for the night. Tonight, if he’s lucky.

As she pours him another cup, and places the pie he ordered beside his now empty plate, he pretends not to notice. It doesn’t mean he’s not watching. He just continues to hold the conversation with Sam while listening to her greet someone new.

Her voice carries like silk over the chatter of people and the ringing coming from the door. Her hands are clean, her skin soft and inviting as she pulls out her notepad and pen. 

He flicks his head up to exchange a glance, and she actually winks at him. “Can I get you anything else?” 

“Sammy?” He looks his brother’s way, but brings his gaze back to her the second he’s answered.

“Thanks,” he says and reads the badge pinned to her blouse aloud. “That’s a pretty name.” 

The girls in these dives they eat at are always perfect in his eyes. Their lives are just so, even if they don’t see it. 

No scars, at least not from weapons. Pliable flesh he can sink his fingers into. Grab, smooth, lick, taste. Sweet perfume that would fill a home he knows has things littered with the apple pie life he once thought he wanted. 

He’ll tell no one he still does.

He’ll also never tell Sam that’s the real reason he doesn’t bring them to the motel anymore if he can avoid it. It’s easier to leave them when he wakes up and feels out of place.

She walks away, back to the counter whence she came with hips that sway in time to the tick of the dusty old clock on the wall. Past the other patrons and tables full of more coffee and mediocre food. 

Chicken served in nugget form. Sandwiches lathered in sauce. It may be swill and smell closer to ass than edible, but if he plays his cards well, he’ll be devouring something far better tonight.

“Don’t wait up,” he says after downing the scalding liquid in one go. He’s done with waiting. Just needed the last boost of confidence before he goes in for the kill.

He stands up and grabs his phone. Brushes down his jacket, checking there’s nothing on it from the hunt, and looks up to the smile that caught his eye again. 

She’s watching him.

“Don’t do the hot coffee thing,” Sammy bitches, as he walks away.

But while Dean ignores him, a split second frown sours his face. He refuses to let his baby brother see the remark stings. 

It’s not about dipping his stick in the oil, but he’ll let Sam believe it is. The facade is easier than admitting the truth.

He steps up to the counter, where she’s taking some other chumps order, and raises the cup he never put down to gain her attention. There might be a suave grin thrown her way. Definitely a twinkle in his eye.

“Can I get another, sweetheart? Hot, and…just like you?” There’s a wag of his brow now.

“Sure thing, hun,” she says with a chuckle that makes her even more desirable. She doesn’t know how beautiful she is.

He wants to taste. He wants to touch. He wants her arms wrapped around him while he holds her tight. So he takes the opportunity presented to him. A brush of his fingers on hers when she hands the smooth ceramic back to him. Lingering as he gauges for any reaction. Any hint that she’s interested in being his comfort for the night.

“Thanks,” he says through a grin of goof and charm, and she smiles. Doesn’t even move her hand, and he knows he’s in with a chance.

“Can I get you anything else…?” she asks.

“Dean.” He winks.

“Dean,” she repeats, and he wants to hear it again. Underneath him. On top of him. Legs wrapped ‘round his waist as she chants it into his ear. 

He’d settle for it once if it was on her doorstep, following an ‘I had a good time last night,’ and so he’s bolder. His choice of words, just as. “Any chance you’re getting off soon?”

And she chuckles, hearty and soft. Nods her head in consideration, tongue playing with her cheek as she looks him over nice and slow. “You don’t beat around the bush, huh, Dean?” 

“Depends on the carpets,” he says. 

It’s cheesy and cringe and doesn’t even make much sense, but it works. She’s placing the pot of coffee down, leaning in closer to him, hovering over him a couple of hours later in a room that’s both foreign in foundation and comfort.

Plush bedding that’s clean. No smoke or dust or grime in sight. 

A light that never flickers and appliances that don’t buzz.

There’s a thigh on either side of him, bent at the knees just as he wanted. A sheen of sweat between. Her hands, warm and soft, creep over his skin, tracing patterns with tingles that curl his toes and tense the muscles in his shoulders and glutes.

His arms pull her down on him, pushing himself further into her. Giving her more of him, and she moans. He does, too. The squeeze of her walls on the covered tip of his dick is wonderful, but it’s the look in her eyes that does it for him. 

There’s a connection, now, even if there might be none come morning. This lust that he can mistake for adoration is what he needs. What he craves.

He’s wanted. She feels. Her body is alive, and she cries his name. 

“You like that, baby?” he asks with a snap of his hips, savouring the next sound she makes. If they go another round, he’ll do it again. When he’s alone with just his hand, he’ll chase it with the memory of her trembling lips, thighs and chest.

He’s pulling her tit into his mouth. Wide to capture as much of her smooth skin as he can. He’ll remember the saltiness, too. The way her nipple pebbles as his tongue swipes over and around it. The way her pelvis rocks.

She’s grinding down on him. Her fingers are tugging into his hair, and as her nails scrape down to the nape of his neck, he’s pulling her stomach to his. 

He’s grabbing her ass and raising it up. He’s chasing both their highs.

And when it hits, and he feels his balls tighten, and her around him, squeezing him for all he’s worth, he’s burying his nose into the junction between her hairline and ear. Inhaling the soap and shampoo. Her perfume. The sweat on her skin. He’s taking it all in and holding her tight.

In this moment, she’s his. 

The closeness she gives him. The warmth of her surrounding his hardened body. Touching, feeling, writhing on top of him.

He craves her.

He needs her.

And he’ll continue to, because it’s not just about sex. He loves the intimacy.

Read on AO3 || Masterlist—————————————————————Thank you so much for reading!

Coming soon! - Must Love Dogs - 24/01

(Dean’s POV - Humour - 900 words)

The Colonel needs to take a leak. Rather than risk the stench of dog piss in their already rank motel room, Dean, begrudgingly, obliges. It’s lucky(?) he does, because Dean will always pick up. —————————————————————TAGLIST- If you’d like to be tagged, lmk.

@globetrotter28 @ambiguous-avery @arcannaa

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Every Day That You Want

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, pre-established relationship, marriage proposal

Summary/Warnings: You have big news for Dean. News you have to tell him, wether he likes it or not. You really hope he likes it, though.

Author's Note: Kind of a prequel to another fic of mine (Still You Want Me), but can be read alone. I just love putting big scary men in normal situations.

Word Count: 2.9k

You can do this. You’ve been to hell and back, you’ve killed angels, you’ve survived at least three apocalypses, and you’ve helped raise the Anti-Christ. This should, comparatively, be easy. 

It’s not. It’s the most daunting and terrifying thing you’ve ever done. It’s just words, but you’re going to choke on them because they could ruin your life. You’ve rehearsed in front of the mirror until your voice didn’t sound like yours anymore and nothing you said seemed real. It had been like repeating the same one word over and over again, until it’s nothing but an odd sound. Until it meant nothing.

But this has to mean something. You have to be able to say this to Dean, and you have to try and not get lost in the possibilities of how he’ll respond. He won’t leave you—Dean would never leave you—but he might tell you he doesn’t want this, and then you’ll have to make a choice. You don’t want to make a choice. You don’t want to hear Dean tell you that, with the lives you lead, this wouldn’t be a good idea. That it doesn’t matter what either of you want, because this isn’t something you get to have.

You want to have this, though. You want to have Dean and the baby. You want to have him as you’ve always had him before—strong and tired, always fighting because it’s all he knows how to do, but resting his head on your chest in the dark and humming against your lips when he kisses you—but you also want to have him in this new way. Where he’d smile for more reasons than just you and Sam and Cas. Where he’d get to direct some of that undying loyalty to someone who’d never be ungrateful, who’d would see him as a hero in a way he might finally believe. 

He’d be so good at it. Dean would spoil the kid, and teach them everything he knew, and care for them more than he’d ever care for himself. It breaks your heart sometimes, how he doesn’t kill himself for Sam, and he doesn’t drink himself to death for Cas, and he tries to get better for you, but he still doesn’t really know how to look in the mirror and not see a shadow.

And this would be the piece of him that’s never been tainted. The piece of him that crawls over you in bed just to hold you, that still watches cartoons and gets excited when he sees a cool car or hears an awesome drumline. The part of him that still cares, against all odds, and cares so much you’ve been worried it would kill him. The part of him that’s so simply made of light and love, crushed under years of his soul being bruised and beaten.

A part of him that won’t break. A part of him you love just as much as the rest of his wreckage, but that you still try to tend to, because you’ll love him the same if it vanishes, but you don’t think he deserves that. Dean deserves to only have that piece of him expand, to have it absorb all the love you throw at him, to grow until he can see it too. Until he can believe it’s there.

You know that it’s all so fucking hard. That Dean will never be all light, but you wouldn’t ever expect him to be. You know that a baby won’t fix him, not by far, but you also know it will show him he can create something. That he doesn’t poison everything he touches. 

That he made something entirely good, with you.

And if he tells you he doesn’t want this, you’ll live with that. You’ve lived with worse.

But you don’t even want to try to live with it. You’ll probably have to, but you’d like to pretend you won’t. 

The most you’re daring to pray for is that he doesn’t freak out. But angels don’t really take your calls anymore. 

So you’ll just have to hope.

You’ve set this up perfectly. There’s a pie in the oven that you will not let burn. There’s bacon and pancakes on a plate waiting for him when he finally gets his ass up. You have the whole bunker to yourself, because Sam’s off to see Eileen.

You’re not allowed to tell Dean that—Sam says he gets annoying—but you will in order to get him in a better mood. Sam’s fatal mistake was believing that you wouldn’t do anything to make Dean happy. So this is really on Sam. He’s the one that introduced you to Dean in the first place. Just because you were his friend first doesn’t mean he didn’t lose your automatic allegiance the moment he said this is my brother and his brother was the hottest man you’d ever seen. 

Sam should’ve known better. His big head should’ve understood that letting you anywhere near Dean—let enough so close that you’d be allowed to fall in love with him—would have always resulted in you using his secrets against him to make Dean happy, so you could slip in the fact that you were pregnant with Dean’s baby as easily as possible. 

Like any sane person would.

Although you have been up for hours, after only sleeping two. And you might be losing your mind. But anyone would lose their mind in a situation like this. Waiting for their dumb boyfriend to wake up so they can change his life forever. 

But Dean’s still asleep. You’re starting to get worried. He usually sleeps in late, especially after hunts, but not this late. Not past noon, long enough for you to stress eat half of his pie, then make a whole second one. Not long enough for the coffee to go cold three times.

You’re about to go check on him when he appears in the kitchen door. Bleary eyes and mussed hair, his glazed eyes focusing slightly when they land on you.

He starts to shuffle towards you, and you forget everything you’d rehearsed. He looks sleepy and adorable, and you’ve seen him like this before but you’d like to see it a million times more. You’d like Dean to always drop his head on your shoulder and wrap his arms around your torso, to always slump over you with a low hum. To always kiss the crook of your neck and let out a long breath when your hands snake around his neck and your fingers tangle in his soft hair.

You could have him like this forever. 

You just have to tell him. 

“Dean-“

“Why’re you up.” He speaks against your skin, his voice slurring slightly, tugging you a little closer. “’S early.”

“It’s 3pm, baby.” You draw back to smile at him, and he just blinks at you. “You’ve been knocked out for fourteen hours.”

He shakes his head, pouting slightly as he takes your hand in his. “Nah. Doesn’t feel it. C’mon.”

Dean starts to walk away, taking you with him, and you’re snapped out of the daze.

“Wait,” You pull on his grip, and he turns with a frown. “Where are you going?”

“We’re goin’ back to bed.”

You give him an amused look, your affection briefly overpowering your panic. “We?”

He nods, tugging your hand in his until you’re pressed right against his chest. “Only up ‘cause you weren’t there. Need to get my girl back to bed, you need sleep too-“

You do need sleep, but until you tell Dean, you might as well be injecting caffeine right into your bloodstream.

“But I made you bacon-“

“Course you did.” He grins, pressing a light kiss to your nose. “You’re awesome, baby.” 

You feel your stomach flutter, and at this stage it has to only be nerves, but that doesn’t make anything easier. “Can we please eat?”

Dean hums, scanning carefully over your face. “You eat already?”

“I had some applesauce-“

“Then we’re good.” He starts to move again, and now you’re attached to him like a magnet. You couldn’t move away if you tried. “Bed.”

You’re frayed and wired and on edge, trying so hard to find the will to insist he stay and eat, but Dean’s so warm and suddenly you’re drunk on him. He’s sturdy and soft in all the right places, herding you back to bed with hands on your shoulders and mumbled praise about being his dream girl, making him bacon for breakfast and lovin’ him more than he deserves, and you wish you had enough backbone to just shout at him that he does deserve your love. He deserves whatever you can give him, including a baby that he needs to know about now before you explode.

But he gets you back into bed, splaying his body over yours and pinning you down.

“Didn’t see Sammy,” his head is buried in your chest, his voice muffled against your skin. “Where’dhe go?”

“Eileen’s.” You sigh, running your fingers through his hair. “I’m not supposed to tell you that, though.”

Dean chuckles, his hands drawing slow circles on your hips. “You’re a little backstabber, sweetheart. I’m never tellin’ you anything again.”

“I’m backstabbing Sam for you.” You shrug, smiling at the air. “I’d never backstab you.”

“’S exactly what a backstabber would say.”

You giggle. “You’re tired, Dean. Your brain’s not working right. Maybe if we get up-“

“Not getting up.” He grunts, squeezing your body. “Not until you get your own fourteen hours.”

“I’m okay, Dean-“

“No. Sleep.”

You sigh, squirming slightly under him. “You know, it’s bad for you to sleep in. It’ll mess up your circadian rhythm-“ 

Dean tilts his head up, frowning at you. “What’s going on with you?”

“I, um-“ You swallow, your whole body suddenly far too warm. “Huh?”

“You always make me sleep extra after hunts.” His voice is a little stronger, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Why’re you suddenly trying to get me up?”

“Nothing’s going on-“

“No.” Dean’s sitting up now, rolling onto his back and pulling you over his lap, his gaze stern. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

“There’s nothing wrong either-“

He says your name, squeezing your waist as he rubs his jaw. “Please just tell me. If it’s a body we can hide it, but I need to know if it’s a monster body or person body-“

“Why the hell would it be a person body-“

“I dunno, but if it is you gotta tell me, so I can grab the salt.” He cups your cheek, offering you on his charming, downright boyish grins. “I’m not letting any ghosts haunt your hot ass, babygirl.”

“Thank you.” You mumble, dropping your brow to his. “But it’s not a body.”

“So there is something.”

“Yeah.” You whisper. “But I… I’m not-“

“Hey,” Dean leans back, holding your gaze as he tucks some hair behind your ear. “Whatever it is, I don’t care. I’m helping you.”

You swallow, squeezing your eyes shut. “You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs, like it’s simple. Like this will really be that easy. “For you? Always.”

It takes deep breathes, and hands curled in Dean’s t-shirt—gripping him hard, making sure he won’t fly away or vanish into the air when you speak—but you do it. You run over your entire rehearsal one last time and let it all go, because Dean’s right here, in front of you, and you just need to-

“I’m pregnant.”

You say it, and he doesn’t vanish into nothing. Dean just stares at you, eyes wider than you’ve ever seen them, and whispers, “With a baby?”

“Yeah, Dean.” You offer him a small smile. “A baby.”

“My- my baby?” 

You open your mouth with a slight frown, and Dean’s hand flies to cover your mouth before you can speak.

“Wait, shit, I didn’t mean it like that, I’m just-“ He groans, his eyes seeming to drive right into your soul as his voice because hoarse. “You’re sure? That you’re… growing one?”

You wish you could read him better right now. You’d laugh at him saying growing one.

Instead you just nod, and it’s like something flips in Dean. He grins—wide and toothy and unrestrained—and you barely have time for the relief to hit when he’s kissing you. Long and deep and passionate, until you’re dizzy and grinding down onto him, falling over his chest and clinging to his shoulders.

“Dean,” you gasp as he dives down to kiss a line over your collarbone. “Shouldn’t we, shit-“ He starts suck on a soft spot behind your ear, and all your exhaustion is starting to catch back up with you, so everything is really just a haze. “Don’t we need to talk-“

“No,” he mutters, rutting slightly up into you and chuckling against your skin when you whine. “Just need you, baby, need to- son of a bitch!”

Dean’s yanks himself up and twists to his bedside table—his hand on your hips holding you steadily against him—scrambling around the drawers as he mutters low words you can’t hear.

“Are you okay?” You ask, your hand fisting in his shirt once more. “I mean, I know you might have doubts about-“

You’re cut off as Dean surges back up to kiss you again, this one shorter and soft, but still firm. 

“No doubts, sweetheart.” He mutters against your lips. “And I’m better than okay. I’m fucking amazing.”

“Good.” You sigh, pulling back to scan over his face. “What was that, then?”

Dean smiles at you, and it’s… nervous. He’s almost never really, truly nervous, but this smile has no edge, no carefully designed charm. It’s just Dean, purely him, smiling at you like you’re holding his heart in your body.

You kind of are.

“I know I, uh, I don’t say it enough. You know I’m not good at saying it. But I do love you,” Dean says your name, and you blink at him. This sounds like a speech. “I love you so much it drives me insane. And I’d never want this, want a baby, with anyone but you. But, I, uh, I want all of this. Whole stupid, apple pie thing, just with you.” He takes a long breath, his eyes never leaving yours. “Marry me.”

You gape at him. “What?”

“Marry- shit, wait-“ Dean reaches slightly behind him, grabbing a small box, and pops it open with his thumb. There’s a diamond ring inside, and it looks like a real one. Not the ones you’d use on cases, that would give you a rash for a week after. This looks… carefully made.

Made for you.

“Dean-“

“Marry me?” Dean looks between your slack jaw and the box, his voice almost nervous. “Please?”

“I-“ This is going better than you could’ve ever even imagined. You’re not sure how to handle it. “I don’t want you to marry me just because you knocked me up-“

“Baby, I didn’t pull this ring out of my ass.” He drawls, his voice a little firmer. “I’ve been getting ready to ask you for months. I was going to kick Sammy out next week, make a picnic in the library-“

“Really?”

“Yeah, I-“ He frowns. “Why’d you think I was poking about your ring size?”

“I don’t, um, I don’t remember you doing that.”

Dean laughs, shaking his head slightly. “That’s good. I was worried I ruined it. I, um-“ he glances down at the ring, his face falling back to the nerves, and you realize you haven’t actually answered him yet. “I haven’t-“

It’s your turn to kiss Dean, and these words aren’t difficult to say at all. “Yes,” you whisper, pressing another, smaller kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ll marry you.”

“Awesome.” He grins, and the ring is barely on your finger when he’s diving back into you, kissing you until you can’t ever remember anything has been difficult in your life. 

You yawn right as Dean pulls away, and he chuckles. 

“You alright, sweetheart?”

You hum, nodding. “I’m good. So good. I love you.”

“I love you too,” Dean says your name in your ear, and it’s quiet and gentle. Not like a secret, but a promise. “How’s a day in bed sound? We can try and get you pregnant again.”

“That’s not how it works, babe.” You giggle, folding a little deeper into his hold. “I’m gonna have to buy you some books.”

“I’ll read them.” Dean kisses the top of your head, and you can feel his smile on your skin. “For you.”

“Thank you.”

“Course.” He sighs, squeezing your body slightly. “We’re having a fucking baby.”

“Yeah.” You smile, and there’s that piece of him, shining on the surface. All joy and wonder for something that’s really just good. “We are.”

End Note: Dean Winchester in my head this is indeed the life you live every day. Season 15 isn't real it can't hurt me.

Title from Waste by Foster the People

If you like this story, please reblog, share, or leave a comment! <3

Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

@deansbbyx @bakugotypecrashout @foolinthera1n @globetrotter28 @lordofthunderthr

@youdontknowe @nyrtopia @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @panicking-outside-the-disco @elle14-blog1

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@chi-raz @lori19 @wynnthewynnderful

[wendichester]

Hey could you do one where your Bobby's daughter but you've had a crush on Sammy since you were little your best friends and only Dean knows about your crush on Sammy and makes fun of you for it making sneaky comments in front of Sammy he finds out because of a demon and finally confesses his feelings for you as well

Ps love you stories 😘

˚⋆𐙚｡ 𖦹. demonly confessions,

summary. maybe demons aren't so bad... right? absolutely not! but kinda.

pairing. sam winchester x reader

wordcount. 791

notes. thank you so much for requesting this, sweets! hope you like it 🩷

The Impala hums as it rolls into the bunker’s garage, tires crunching softly against the concrete. You jump out before the engine is even off, eager to stretch your legs after the long drive back from the hunt. You've been living with the Winchester boys ever since your father, Bobby Singer, passed. Sam is right behind you, his hand brushing yours as he reaches to grab your duffel.

“You don’t have to carry that,” you say, even though you don’t stop him.

He flashes you that warm, dimpled smile that’s been making your heart flip since you were a kid. “I don’t mind.”

Dean saunters past, smirking like he knows every thought running through your head. “Geez, Sam, you keep being this sweet, and she might just fall for you,” he quips, his voice dripping with mock innocence.

Your face heats instantly, and you shoot Dean a glare that could probably kill a lesser man. Sam, oblivious as ever, chuckles and shrugs.

“I’m just being polite,” he says, glancing your way with a grin that does nothing to slow the racing of your heart.

Dean’s grin widens, and you know he’s dying to push further, but thankfully, he disappears down the hall before you can throttle him.

It’s always been this way. Sam has been your best friend for as long as you can remember, but Dean’s known about your crush since the day he caught you doodling “Sam + Y/N” in the margins of your notebook when you were thirteen. He hasn’t let you live it down since.

But Sam? Sam is clueless. Or at least, that’s what you think.

Later that night, the bunker is quiet, save for the sound of Sam typing away on his laptop at the table. You sit across from him, pretending to read a book, but your eyes keep drifting to him. He’s so focused, the soft glow of the laptop highlighting the sharp angles of his face, the way his hair falls into his eyes.

“Do you always stare this much?” Dean’s voice cuts through the silence, startling you.

“Dean!” you hiss, your face burning.

Sam looks up, frowning. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you say quickly, glaring at Dean, who just smirks and takes a swig of his beer.

Before Sam can ask more, the lights flicker, and a cold draft sweeps through the room. The hairs on your neck stand on end.

“Demon,” Sam mutters, already on his feet.

The fight is chaotic. The demon is stronger than expected, throwing you and Sam around like rag dolls. It corners you, its black eyes gleaming as it sneers.

“Poor little thing,” it taunts, its voice dripping with malice. “So scared your precious Sam won’t save you in time.”

Your breath catches, panic rising, but before you can react, Sam is there, slamming the demon back with a furious strength you rarely see.

“You stay away from her,” he growls, his voice low and dangerous.

Dean’s there in a flash, helping Sam finish the exorcism. The demon screeches, smoke pouring from its mouth before it drops lifeless to the ground.

When the dust settles, Sam turns to you, his hazel eyes filled with worry. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you say, though your voice shakes.

Sam hesitates, then steps closer. “It said… something about me. About you being scared I wouldn’t save you.”

You freeze, your heart thundering. “It was just trying to mess with me,” you say, avoiding his gaze.

But Sam doesn’t let it go. “It also called me ‘your precious Sam,’” he says, his tone soft but insistent.

Your mouth goes dry, and you can’t think of a single excuse fast enough.

“Y/N,” he says gently, his hand brushing yours. “Is it true? Do you… feel something for me?”

You’re about to deny it, to laugh it off, but the way he’s looking at you—hopeful, nervous, vulnerable—makes you falter.

“Yeah,” you admit quietly, your voice barely above a whisper. “I do.”

For a moment, he just stares at you, and you brace yourself for rejection. But then he’s closing the distance, his hand cupping your cheek as he looks at you like you’re the only thing in the world that matters.

“I’ve been in love with you for years,” he says, his voice trembling slightly. “I just… I didn’t think you felt the same way.”

Your breath hitches, tears pricking your eyes. “You mean that?”

He nods, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I mean it.”

And then he’s kissing you, slow and sweet, and every lingering doubt melts away.

From across the room, Dean groans. “Finally. Took you two long enough.”

You laugh against Sam’s lips, and for the first time in what feels like forever, everything feels right.

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

[castiwls]

never grow up - d.w

Pairing; Dean & sister!reader

Synopsis; Based on the song by Taylor swift

Warnings; None

Notes; This is kinda random but also ties in with my post a few days ago about being the middle child in the Winchester family :)

Masterlist

‘Your little hands wrapped around my finger. And it's so quiet in the world tonight

Dean didn’t understand what his parents had meant when they told him he would be a big brother. All he knew was that his mom had a baby in her stomach and in a few month’s the baby would come out. 

Now his mom smiled softly as she gently placed a small baby on his lap. He grinned at her from his spot on the hospital bed before looking down at the baby. “She’s so small.” He looked between his parents and his dad chuckled at his comment. “You were that small once bud.”

Dean looked at him with wide eyes. “I was?” He sounded almost astonished at his Dads comment as both his parents fell into quiet laughter. After a moment he felt something grip onto his small thumb and his attention was drawn back down to his sister.

Her little hand had wrapped around his thumb and she was now gazing up at him. “I think she likes you.” His mom whispered before pressing a kiss to his head. Dean grinned up at her for a moment before cuddling further into her chest. 

He still didn’t truly understand what his parents meant by being a big brother, but he knew that he would always protect her from this moment onwards.

‘I won't let anybody hurt you, won't let anyone break your heart. And no one will desert you. Just try to never grow up, never grow up'

“Dean. Are you awake?” Your brother let out a small groan before rolling over to face you. “Y/n it's three in the morning why are you awake?” He frowned at you before a look of concern took over his face. As his eyes adjusted to the dark he noticed the unleashed tears brimming your eyes and the way your hands shook slightly.

“I killed someone.” Your voice was barely a whisper as you spoke. Your hands seemed to shake harder as you gripped the thin sheets closer to your chest. “Someone dead cause of me.”

Dean shook his head sitting up and pulling you with him. “No. You didn’t kill someone ok. They were bitten and had fed y/n, it was only a matter of time before they turned.” He kept his voice low not wanting to wake Sam or your Dad who were both asleep across the room.

“Still. He hadn’t turned yet.” You sniffled leaning onto his chest. “Dad told me this job is about saving people Dean. How is that saving people.” Your brother didn’t say anything as he wrapped his arms around you tighter.

You were only 14, you shouldn’t have to deal with this. Hell, he never imagined that at 16 he would be spending his time cleaning guns and learning how to kill monsters. Dean understood why his Dad did what he did and he understood why he’d chosen now to start letting you on hunts but at the same time, it made him feel slightly sick.

The idea of his little sister doing this job left him with a bad feeling in his stomach (he didn't want to even think of Sam doing it) Dean swayed slightly as he tried to soothe you as best he could. “I know you don't think it now, but you did the right thing y/n. I promise.”

You nodded against his chest before pulling back and whipping at your eyes. “Come on. We need to be up in a few hours.” Your brother moved to lie down before opening his arms for you. You happily settled into his arms, feeling his hand run through your hair.

You both lay in silence for a while. The sound of his heartbeat slowly lulled you back to a dreamless sleep.

Dean closed his eyes sucking in a breath before relaxing. Life was so much easier when you were younger. If he had it his way you and Sam would never have to worry about the things that went bump in the night. He’d happily let you both live in peaceful ignorance as long as you were both safe and happy.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Of All The Places to Meet

Summary: When the reader gets into a bad accident, she doesn’t expect to meet her true mate at the same time...

Pairing: Alpha/Firefighter!Dean x Omega!reader

Word Count: 2,500ish

Warnings: language, car accident, major injury

A/N: Enjoy!

_______

“She’s fucking jammed in there good. We need to cut her out.” You blinked open your eyes slowly, very aware of how…off the world seemed. Your head was killing you, that was for sure. Something about the fact you were upside down in your car told you that had something to do with it.

Lazily you turned your head at the scent of vanilla and tobacco, humming at the pleasant smell in the otherwise metallic and burnt rubber scented air. Beside you, crawled in your passenger window on his back, laying on top of your roof was a pair of gorgeous green eyes staring back.

“She’s awake!” called the man, his attention on you the whole time. “Hey, sweetheart. You were in an accident. I’m gonna get you out of here.”

“Smell pretty,” you murmured, fighting off the urge to pass out again. “I’m gonna…”

“Miss. Miss, try to-”

Dean’s POV

“Fuck, she’s out cold again,” I said. I could see where her door was pinned against her left side. It’d be a miracle if she hadn’t shattered her hip or femur. My stomach churned once more, hands gripping the center console that was partially cracked and pushed forward. 

This was not how this was supposed to happen. You don’t meet your true mate in a goddamn car wreck when she’s critically injured. You just don’t.

And now there was another problem.

Alpha’s were notoriously protective of their mates, especially true mates. That instinct skyrocketed when they were injured, even something as small as a cut thumb.

Seeing, smelling, my true mate when she was broken and battered and hurt out of her mind?

Yeah, there was no way I was going to be able to physically get away from this little omega.

“Winchester! Let the medic get in there and we’ll work on getting the driver's door off,” called Benny. My gut said to stay but I also knew she needed someone more qualified than me to attend to her at this moment. Reluctantly, I climbed out and ran around to the outside of the car, a few guys already working on ripping the metal apart.

“She’s got the neck brace on!” called the EMT. “We’re ready for whenever she’s loose.”

Twenty minutes later we finally had the door off, a backboard slipped underneath her and she was being pulled out of the vehicle.

The EMT’s packed her up and somehow she wasn’t bleeding out. There was always the chance for internal injuries though. I wandered over to the back of the ambulance, climbing into the back much to the displeasure of the two EMT’s.

“What the hell are you doing Dean?” said Benny. I chucked my helmet at him, Benny barely catching it. “De-“

“She’s my true mate. I can’t…I need to go.” He sighed but nodded. 

“Let him ride with you. I’ll pick him up at county later. Dean?” I nodded as they started to close the doors. “Listen to the doctors and stay out of their way. That’s how you can keep her safe.”

I nodded as they shut the doors, my focus going to the woman strapped to the stretcher. She looked so broken, covered in blood and scrapes.

I squeezed her hand, a gentle twitch of her finger in my palm. 

“You’ll be okay, Omega. I promise.”

Reader’s POV

You blinked open your eyes slowly, grateful this time you were right side up. The bed was soft and warm even if your body felt achy. A buzz was thrumming through your veins as you looked down, the drugs in your system keeping you calm as you took in the sight. 

Your entire left leg was bruised. Literally every spec of skin was bruised. 

And then you saw the monstrous contraption encasing it, pins holding your thigh in place. Beeping rang through the room as your heart rate shot up, eyes fixated on your wiggling toes.

“Okay. Okay, I can still walk,” you breathed out, inhaling deeply. “Hopefully.”

A wave of exhaustion hit as the door opened, an Alpha!nurse walking inside. “Well good evening Y/N! How are we feeling?”

“Shitty.” You frowned and closed your eyes again.

“Do you remember what happened?” he asked, checking the monitors and then bending your arms. 

“Uh. I was driving on the highway and then I woke up here,” you said, nose twitching. “Something smelled pretty.”

He just hummed and checked your leg that wasn’t secure, offering you a smile. “I’m going to check a few things and then I’ll bring the doctor in.”

An hour later you were laying back in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying to wrap your head around everything the doctor had said. Intensive physical therapy would be needed for months and even then your leg may never be a hundred percent again. You had a concussion and wouldn’t be able to drive a car for six months most likely. You’d need to take a leave of absence from work. Although that one might not be that bad actually considering how stressful it’d been lately.

On top of all that, apparently there was some creeper Alpha firefighter hanging out in the waiting area. 

Waiting for you.

Because your day hadn’t been unsettling enough as it was.

Before long you were fast asleep, hoping that tomorrow you’d wake up and find out this was just a nightmare.

“Good morning Y/N!” said your nurse, Alfie. You twitched your eye, not deterring his chipper mood one bit. “Feeling any better today?”

“We’re going to have problems if you’re always this bubbly when I wake up, Alfie,” you grumbled, sighing as pain shot up your leg. “If you could just do me a favor and cut off my leg, that’d be appreciated.”

“Oh, don’t be drastic, Y/N. I know the doctor wants to wean you off the pain medicine as soon as possible but it shouldn’t be that bad.”

“Did he shatter his femur yesterday? No? When he does he can talk to me about taking away my pain meds,” you said, hitting the button for morphine but nothing coming out. “Alfie. I need something.”

“The doctor gave strict orders to have you on only over the counter-”

“It fucking hurts!” you shouted, surprised at how agitated you were. Normally you were always kind and polite to strangers. But this? You were in pain and you didn’t have the patience to be a socially acceptable human being today.

Alfie looked sympathetic but his reply was cut off when a man with disheveled hair and dirty clothes came barging in the room. Strike that. The creeper Alpha firefighter that was stalking you outside was suddenly barging in the room.

“What are you doing to her?” he spat out, venom in every word. You could hear him audibly growl as he stalked over to Alfie, the poor Alpha shrinking back like he was an Omega cornered in a dark alley.

“Hey! Get out of…” you paused when you caught his scent. The heart rate monitor beeped dangerously fast, both of them turning to you. The scary Alpha firefighter suddenly made you calm, his scent giving off clear signals.

Relax Omega. You’re safe and protected.

“You can’t be in here,” said Alfie as he got his wits back. He grabbed the firefighter, shrieking when the man growled so loud it sounded like he’d gone feral. 

“Alfie’s right,” you said, pain filling your heart as you breathed deeply. You had no idea who this Alpha was but you knew his instincts were in overdrive. “You’re filthy and this is an ICU. Go home and clean yourself up. Come back this afternoon and we’ll talk then. That’s an order, Alpha.”

“Yes, omega,” he said softly, nodding once. “Are you okay?”

“Later, Alpha.” He apologized briefly to Alfie before leaving, Alfie relaxing when his scent went with him. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. I don’t know how you got him to believe you like that. He was this close to snapping.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s my true mate.” Alfie raised his eyebrow and cocked his head.

“We can do a blood test. And make him take one too before we let him back in. On second thought, that’s absolutely happening.”

You raised a hand, wincing as pain pulsated through your leg. “Tell him I asked him to please take the test so he doesn’t take it out on the staff. Please.”

“Will do.” He paused as he exited the room. “I’ll talk to the doctor about your pain meds, see if we can make the steps down not so drastic.”

“Thanks Alfie.”

You were tired when you woke up after lunch and physical therapy. So much so you could barely open your eyes. You wouldn’t think you could be all that physical with a damn broken femur but after they moved and worked you to the point of shouting, you’d changed your mind quickly.

A large, calloused hand stroked your cheek, wiping away a stray tear that fell. The air smelled sweet, like pine and vanilla. “Omega. How can I help the pain?”

“You being here helps,” you murmured, his long fingers brushing away more tears. You squeezed your eyes when pain ripped through you. “They say I don’t need the morphine but I only can sleep today when I’m exhausted from the pain. I don’t know how I’m supposed to get through this.”

“With me, Omega. I’ll talk to the doctors. You were injured only a day ago. They must  have missed something if it hurts so badly.” He bent down and kissed your temple, your eyes fluttering open. “Please don’t worry. I’ll be here for you every step of the way.”

You stared up into his green eyes, surprised to find him smiling at you. “Why are you so handsome?”

“Makes up for my lack of singing ability,” he chuckled. He brushed your hair behind your ear, his scent coming off in powerful waves to soothe you. “I’m sorry for scaring you earlier. I know you don’t quite know me but I was one of the responders to your accident and when I scented you…my instincts went a little crazy.”

“It’s alright,” you whispered, a flash of pain rising up again. “Can you find the doctor?”

“Yes Omega,” he murmured. “Try to rest.” He got up from the nearby seat and hummed. “I’m Dean.”

“Y/N,” you said, shutting your eyes once more.

“I’ll make it better Y/N. I promise.”

Two Weeks Later

“Hey,” said Dean when he entered your hospital room. “I heard you’re getting discharged today.”

You grumbled from bed, wearing one of his fire station hoodies. He pulled the curtains open, smiling wide as you tugged the hood up. 

“Aren’t you excited to be getting out of here?” He had a point. You were happy to be leaving, with some pain medication too. But your leg was still incredibly fucked and you couldn’t go back to your apartment. Not when it was on the third floor. Dean luckily lived in a ranch style but you hated imposing on him.

“I wish I didn’t have to move in with you.” His smile fell as you groaned. “I meant like this. Because I’m hurt and can’t be alone. I wish we could be like a normal pair of mates.”

“Hey,” he said. He sat on the edge of the bed by my good leg, lightly stroking over the bonding gland in my neck. “We are normal. We just need to practice a bit more patience than other true mates.”

“You mean how I can’t have sex for months until my leg is healed. It’s going to drive both of us crazy to wait.”

“We can bond, just without the knotting. We’re already scent bonded and as long as we don’t stay away from each other for too long-“

“You mean an hour tops? You’re stuck by my side for the next three months minimum. I might not walk correctly again. I might always-“

He put his hand over your mouth, annoyance rising in your veins. 

“I’m your Alpha, even if you don’t bear my mark yet. I never want to hear you say you think I’m stuck with you. Being with you is the only thing I could ever want. We will figure this out and I will not mate you until you are fully recovered. Am I clear, Omega?”

The use of your title from his lips sent fuzzy, calming feelings throughout your body, your head nodding without thinking. Large fingers gently stroked your cheek, a soft hum escaping him.

“Are you ready to go home with me?” 

“Okay, Alpha. You can take me home.”

“You all set?” asked Dean later that evening. You were in bed, leg propped up on some pillows. Dean had spent the day with you, helping you get discharged and set up his house so it was a bit more friendly for you to get around in. 

“As good as I can be,” you said, watching him disappear into the closet, returning in a fire station shirt and a pair of skinny black joggers. “You have work?”

He chuckled and shook his head. “No, no. Just getting comfy for the night. I can order us some food. I’m sure you’re starving.”

“A little,” you said, Dean sitting beside you, urging you to curl into his side. “Thank you for helping me that day. The accident.”

“It’s my job, sweetheart,” he said, pressing a gentle kiss to your temple. “I’m just happy you’re still here. You got lucky.”

“Hell of a way to meet your mate.” He hummed, quietly stroking your bare arm with the tips of his fingers. “I’m really glad I’m not doing this on my own.”

“You’ll never be on your own ever again, Omega. I promise.”

“I know, Alpha. My leg might never heal the same way but at least I got one good thing out of this situation.” He smiled, brushing your hair behind your ear. “This comfy ass bed.”

He rolled his eyes with a smirk, kissing the top of your head before he got up. “Alright. With that, I’m off to go be your manly Alpha and hunt down some food for us.”

“You mean order takeout?” you teased. He tossed a pillow at you, laughing lightly.

“For that I’m ordering pineapple on the pizza.” You dropped your jaw, Dean laughing a bit harder, his scent the calmest you’d ever smelled it. “I’m kidding. I’m not deranged.”

“Good cause true mates or not, that is not happening,” you said. 

“Glad we can agree on it,” he said. “What about a supreme?”

“Now we’re talking,” you said. He left the room with a nod, returning a few minutes later with a soft smile. “What?”

“Nothing. Just really glad to finally have found you. It’s…easy with you.”

You knew what he meant, patting the spot next to you. He returned to your side with a smile, pulling you to rest against his chest. His scent filled the air, a relaxed cozy feeling settling in your bones.

“Yes, yes it is Alpha,” you said, taking a deep inhale, exhaling slowly. “It absolutely is.”

________

[zepskies]

OMG I KEED A PART 2 TO SAM HAVING A CRUSH ON DEANS GF

Like idk maybe say Sam didn't listen to Dean and tried making a move on reader? Like ofc he wouldn't ever do that *I don't think* but in this hypothetical scenerio it happens

Hey hun!

Oooof, that's hard. You guys really like this angsty love triangle stuff, huh? 😂 I genuinely think Sam would rather saw off his own hand than hurt Dean that way. But this is like, the only thing I could think of on this one. 😅

See this imagine for context: You are Dean's one exception.

Pairing: Dean W. x Reader, one-sided Sam W. x Reader Word Count: 1,100

Imagine: Sam crosses the line.

Goddamn witches.

That's the last coherent thought Sam has, before his mind is no longer completely his to control.

Well, it's still his mind. His body. But the careful door in his mind and in his heart, reinforced with steel and chained shut with titanium, combo-coded, locked and loaded, now has broken hinges.

Thoughts he hasn't allowed himself to think for months are pried open, with a sick kind of enjoyment in pain.

You're his brother's girl. Sam can't help but love you. He wants you. And now, he might be able to have you.

The witch is dead, but the spell she just hit Sam with remains. He's not dead, so that's a plus.

"Are you okay?" you ask him, slightly breathless. You're the closest to where he's sprawled on the ground, so you go to him. You touch his arm, and he can't help but clamp down on your hand. He looks at you with the thinly veiled eyes of a hunter as he smiles. Because your concern reaches the deepest parts of him.

"I'm fine," he says.

But Dean reads the hunger in his brother's eyes. He's subtle in the way he grasps your shoulder and Sam's (noticeably tighter).

"But what happened? How do you feel?" you ask, trying to take stock of what you're all dealing with here.

"I uh...feel fine, actually," Sam says. He rolls his shoulders. His gaze focuses on you. Dean holds him back from getting off the ground.

"Get the book. See if there's a way to fix this," Dean tells you without taking his eyes off Sam.

Sam tilts his head at Dean, the beginning of an angry frown on his lip as you rush away to find the witch's spell book.

"What's the matter, Dean?" Sam asks. He doesn't bother to lower his voice. (He literally doesn't have a filter anymore.) "Afraid of what might happen when she actually has the chance to choose?"

Dean's lips purse as his eyes darken. "This isn't you. And when you wake up from this, you're either gonna hate yourself for even thinkin' what you're thinkin', or you're gonna have one hell of a headache."

Sam stares back incredulously. He scoffs. "What're you gonna do, kill me?" They both know that's not happening.

But that's also when Dean knocks him the hell out.

When Sam wakes, it's to you stuffing tissues in his bloody nose. He groans a bit. He looks at you and still wants. But when he looks down at himself, he's in the bunker, handcuffed to the war room table.

You look worried for him as you go back to your side of the table with the book. Dean is oddly nowhere in sight. Sam thought he'd be watching you (and Sam) like a hawk.

"Dean'll be back in a sec. He's trying to get ahold of Rowena," you supply. "But how're you feeling? What's the spell doing to you exactly?"

Sam rolls the kinks out of his neck and removes the tissues, even though his entire face radiates with pain. His brother once promised to break his nose, and he did just that.

"Basically? I think it took away my inhibitions," he replies. More like threw them in a blender and put his deepest, headiest desires into overdrive.

You frown. "Like a really bad bender, or a truth serum kind of thing? But why would he punch you out for that?"

Your gears are turning rapidly, weighing out all the options. You always were smart. Sam leans forward slowly. Noting your thread of wariness, his face softens. He doesn't want to scare you...

He sighs. "Listen...there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while now."

He reaches out a hand. You're looking at him in frozen surprise. His curled fingers brush your cheek. He leans in toward your face.

But you flinch and pull away.

"What the hell are you doing?" you ask.

Sam should've known, but it still hurts him. His jaw clenches. The spell takes away his self-preservation, however.

Just as he might've tried with words to finally confess the depths of his heart, the door creaks open.

The sound of Dean's heavy boots approaching makes him flinch. But Sam looks over with an unrepentant stare.

Dean glances at Rowena, nostrils flaring. "Fix him." He gestures at Sam before he joins you on your side of the table, resting a protective hand on your back.

Rowena shoots him a droll look. "Only because you asked so nicely."

"I don't need fixing!" Sam argues, glaring at Dean. His voice echoes on the bunker's walls. "You're just afraid of what happens if she knows the truth!"

Your eyes widen further. You look from Sam, to your boyfriend. Dean's jaw is clenched tight.

"Okay, what the fuck is going on?!" you ask in earnest. Dean meets your gaze for a moment, his face tense. His reluctant eyes communicate to you things you never knew. Things that clog emotion in your throat. Dean turns back to Sam.

"Don't do this, Sammy. It don't end well for you," Dean says.

"Like hell," Sam retorts.

"Okay, sleep now, dear," Rowena says. And with a wave of her hand and a haze of violet, Sam's world once again blackens.

When he next wakes, he's in his own bed. Not restrained. He indeed has a massive headache, and it's hard to breathe through his still broken nose. He groans and turns, and his brother is there.

When the overwhelming guilt sets in, Sam knows he's himself again, with all the careful walls around his heart put back in place. Rowena must've broken the spell when he was unconscious. Dean can see the truth in Sam's eyes.

"There he is," Dean remarks dryly. "Our giant Jekyll and Hyde."

Sam inhales deeply. "Dean..." I'm sorry doesn't quite cut it.

"She knows," Dean says, after a moment. "Obviously."

Sam nods, swallowing past a lump in his throat. He hesitates to ask the next burning question, because part of him knows the answer.

"It doesn't change anything."

Sam's head turns at the sound of your voice. You stand in the doorway, with your arms crossed despite the disheartened look on your face. Your eyes meet his, steady and sad, but firm.

"I know," Sam says, with a small, self-deprecating smile. "I'm sorry...for all this."

"It's not your fault," you reply. Spell or no spell, the way he feels is not his fault.

You step into the bedroom and go to Sam's bedside, laying a hand on Dean's shoulder. That hand smoothes up his neck, and your fingers briefly thread into his hair. Another silent conversation passes between you and Dean, the way only lovers that close can accomplish.

After a beat, Dean nods and gets up out of his chair. He thumbs at your cheek; it's both an answer to your unspoken request and an endearment. Then he pats Sam's shoulder before he leaves you and Sam alone in the room.

Trust. That's what that is. Dean trusts you, and now that the spell has worn off, he trusts Sam again.

Sam meets your gaze. As awful as he feels, he still loves you. He knows you know by the way your gaze meets his.

All he wants to do is touch you.

To apologize, and to touch you.

He hates himself.

You shake your head. "I love you, Sam. As my friend. My brother."

"I know," he nods. "I'm sorry."

"You don't have to be sorry," you reply. "You just have to respect that."

"'Course, I do," Sam nods again. You would've never known, if not for the damn spell.

You surprise him by taking his hand. Yours is soft and warm and kind.

Always kind...

But never truly his to hold.

AN: GAH! The Angst. You could bottle it. 😩

Want to know what that conversation was like between Dean and the reader after she "found out?"

Read It Here: You and Dean talk about Sam's feelings.

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[s0urw00lf]

I don’t wanna live forever

Part two

Pairing: Dean Winchester x reader

Summary: Y/n is having a hard time coming to terms with her feelings for the guy she’s supposed to feel nothing more than a friendship with, so instead of confronting those feelings she runs away, which proves to be a mistake for her and him.

Warning: angst, heartbreak, fluff, sad angry Dean because he’s a warning in itself

An: this is my first Dean Winchester fic so i hope it lives up to your expectations. Also this is gonna be a two part series because i got carried away with setting up the plot for this. If you like this flick and the way i write i am taking requests for Sam, dean and cas so feel free to make some. Anywho love ya and i hope you enjoy.

Dean Winchester is the epitome of a girls dream guy. He’s smart, tall, and strong. Not to mention those pretty green eyes that scream ‘walking sex god’ or that cheeky ass smirk he wears when he knows he’s got a girl in his clutch. But thats not what made you fall for him, not the only reason at least. Dean Winchester has been your best friend since you both could walk. Being left to take care of Sammy while your mom and john were out hunting all through your childhood up really sealed your fate, you saw all of his most vulnerable moments and you knew those moments he needed you to break down those walls so he wouldn’t self destruct. But also you saw how much he loved, and how he fought for the people he loved, but he wouldn’t let anyone give that back to him. And thats why you loved him. Because you knew that just like him you’d do anything for him at any moments notice. You’d kill, you’d torture , you’d die If he needed.

So as you sat at a bar sipping on your martini watching dean flirt with the pretty curly headed bartender with a short skirt, your heart felt heavy within your chest and your stomach completely empty despite the large bowl of fries you were sharing with Sam. The feelings that surged through your body weren’t anger, or hatred. It was sadness and longing, knowing that even though you loved everything about that man, even though you knew him better than anyone else. Better than himself. He’d wouldn’t see you how you saw him, and no matter how much you hated it, you couldn’t hate him. Not one bit.

“Y’know if you sulk any harder people are gonna mistake you for a grounded teenager” an amused voice spoke from beside you. Your gaze broke from dean and turned to his brother, “shut up Sam” you said nudging his shoulder softly. A smile crossed the younger winchesters face, “he’s just looking for a distraction” he muttered to you, diverting his gaze over to his brother letting a frown overtake his features. Sam knew how utterly in love you and his brother were with each other, i mean anyone could see it. Except for some reason you two.

“Yeah well sleeping with a random person isn’t exactly what id call ‘a distraction’” you said bitterly, immediately feeling bad even though dean was nowhere around to hear. Sam shook his head at just how blind you were, “ i just don’t understand why he wont open up to us.” You said trying to keep your voice steady, stirring your drink around with your straw “He knows that we know how much loosing john is affecting him. Hell he’s not the only one fucking dealing. We all lost” she said trying not to let the tears forming in her eyes fall. Sam sighed “thats just how he is. It’s how he’s always been. The strong one” he said looking at his friend solemnly.

“Well it’s bullshit and he knows it” you said slamming your hands down on the table as you stood up. “Im going back to the motel” you muttered grabbing you coat from the back of your chair and trying to keep your tears at bay. Sam grabbed your wrist stopping you. “You want me to walk you?” He offered softly. “No it’s fine, i’m fine. I just need some time alone if thats okay” you said. Sam nodded letting go of your wrist, you gave him a hug and a kiss on the forehead, a habit you’d formed when he was only two years old. And with that you exited the bar, not sparing a look in deans direction. You couldn’t stomach it. What you missed was the longing and worried look dean sent you as he weakly excused himself, and made his way over to Sam and began his interrogation.

While you walked your brain was racked with all of these intense emotions. But the most prominent thought was how much it was killing you. Given you’d known that Dean wasn’t the relationship type, i mean the ratio of his hookups to relationships says enough in itself. But you’d grown up together, you knew how much dean craved to be held and loved by a woman, and you were hoping by chance he’d let it be you. But as the months turned into years and years turned into a decade, you were tired. Tired of loving someone who only thought of you as a friend. Tired of loving someone who would shamelessly flirt with other women in front of you, no matter how deeply in love you showed him you were.

By time you reached the motel you’d had your mind made up, you’d apologize to the boys later but you had to go. And you knew that if you told them in person Sam’s puppy dog eyes that always worked and deans broken expression would’ve coaxed you back in. So there you are packing your bags (not that you had much to pack) and hopping into a car you’d managed to break into and Hotwire and began your way to Bobby’s.

When you arrived at Bobby’s he was shocked to see you but ultimately let you in. “Y’look like shit” he greeted looking you up in down taking in your puffy eyes. You laughed “good to see you too”. Bobby looked behind you, curiosity etched into his face “where are the other two idjits?” He asked. Your once happy expression dropped, replaced by a guilty look and you avoided his eyes as best you could. Bobby took a step forward, now concerned “peanut where are the boys” he asked a little more demanding this time. Tears pooled your eyes for what felt like the 100th time that day. “I- i left them in Wyoming” your voice broke as tears began to cascade down your face. “I didn’t tell them, they would’ve convinced me not to go” you explained. Bobby stared at the girl not sure what to do about the girl he saw as a daughter crying so freely in front of him. “Why’d ya leave? Somethin’ happen?” He asked leading you to the couch and taking a seat himself.

You shook your head “no… no nothing happened. I just couldn’t watch it anymore.” You muttered playing with your fingers in your lap trying to put your feelings into words. Bobby watched intently, and he swore he could almost see the cloud of thoughts above your head. It took about five seconds for it to click. Dean. “S’this ‘bout dean?” He leaned forward. You hesitated, finally looking up to meet them and eyes before you nodded. “It was okay before, i mean I’ve had feelings for him since we were 14 so i learned to tune it out mostly. But as we get older its just go hard, i mean I’m 26 now and I’ve seen him during relationships and hookups and its not effected me until now.” You explained, Bobby didn’t say anything, knowing that if he said the wrong thing you’d probably run up to your designated room and act like the conversation never happened.

“i think because i realized just how far id go for him, and with the way things are heating up that flame seems to grow more and more every hunt. But he doesn’t see it, he doesn’t see the raw and utter devotion i hold for him. He doesn’t see how i run off every guy because i know they wont be like him. He doesn’t see how much it hurts me to see him happy with someone else, even if it’s just for a night. And it hurts Bobby, it hurts like hell to love someone who only sees you as his best friend that much” you finished. By that point the tears were streaming down your face and he could hear the heartbreak in your voice. Bobby stood up trying to keep his own tears at bay as he watched the young girl break down in front of him, he grabbed you by your wrist pulling you into a bone crushing hug as you sobbed into his shirt. The two of you stood like that until your sobs subsided, leaving you with sniffles every few seconds.

Bobby pulled away and grabbed your face “you are a smart, strong, beautiful young lady. And after all you’ve been through you deserve all the love in the world, and if dean can’t see that then he’s more of an idjit than i thought” he joked. A small laugh passed your lips and suddenly the need for sleep hit you like a ton of bricks. Bobby seemed to take notice because he sent you on your way upstairs to your room and you made no effort to fight sleep any longer.

just downstairs Bobby pulled out his phone that saw tht he had 14 missed callers from Sam and 27 from dean. He calculated how angry you’d be at him for making the decision he was about to but he’d deal with your anger over heartbreak any day. So he pressed the call back button and listened to the dial tone until deans voice replaced the noise

“Is she with you” he asked urgently, Bobby noted the sound of deans engine in the background as well as Sam asking if it was Bobby that called.

“Yeah she’s here, and you’d better have a damn good excuse for her showing up the way she did” Bobby said in an authoritative tone.

“I’m not 100% sure but i have a theory” dean replied with a distracted tone. “I don’t care what you do or don’t have. You get here and you fix it you understand boy?” “Yes sir” dean answered. Bobby then hung up, dean knew he was in deep shit if he couldn’t make things right with you

[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

[jessjad]

Rightfully deceived

Epilogue

Summary: When a marriage promise forces Y/N to step up for her younger sister, she gets something she always wanted. But when the truth comes out, her new husband Dean is not so happy about the mix-up. Will she loose it all? Or will she be surprised in the end?

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 1079

Warnings: none really.

A/N: I hope you all had wonderful holidays and a good start into the new year! 😁 And here is the end of my story. All mistakes are mine! Enjoy!

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

One year later...

It was late November again, a bitterly cold wind was blowing across the country and the first snow had already fallen. A sight that always made Y/N wistful. She looked out the window across the white fields and icy trees to the horizon, behind which the sun had now almost disappeared. The orange-red light made the snow sparkle. Her mom had loved winter, which made the memories of her death bittersweet.

A lot had happened in the last year and Y/N had often wished she could exchange a few words with her mom, ask her for advice or just hug her. She had been the good soul of her clan and had cared for everyone. A trait that the young woman hoped she had inherited. But there was no way to talk to her anymore and so Y/N had to do a lot of things alone for the first time.

It had often been difficult or even frightening, but Millie had always been by her side and supported her from woman to woman. But not just her. Dean hadn't left her alone anymore either. Although it wasn't always that easy for him too. But each situation had strengthened their relationship more and more.

When Y/N thought of her husband, she couldn't help but smile. She had loved him for so long and her heart almost burst with happiness because Dean had also loved her before. Even if it took him a long time to realize it. And he had tried to explain it to her over and over again. The Alex incident had been followed by many long nights of conversation. Honest, open hours full of feelings and affection. There had been days when she no longer believed that this was even possible.

The door behind her opened and Dean walked in, carrying some firewood under his arm. As soon as he saw his wife standing at the window turning to him with a loving smile, he had to smile too. What kind of year had it been? It had had its ups and downs and often wasn't easy, but they had persevered through everything together.

It had shocked his clan when Dean had shot Alex. Many people didn't understand it at first, but there were enough witnesses on the tower who could confirm the necessity. But it probably hit Cassie the most. In the days that followed, she seemed completely different. She had withdrawn and appeared thoughtful. After about four days, she had sincerely apologized to Y/N and Dean for her behavior and told them that she couldn't stay here any longer.

Y/N had reacted to this with mixed feelings. After all, Cassie hadn't tried to drive her away or kill her. And even though she was offended by her behavior, his wife had shown compassion. In the end, she could understand what it was like to be in love with someone for a long time without those feelings being reciprocated. But Cassie couldn't stay any longer and so they let her go.

"You okay there, my love?" asked Dean as he put more firewood on the fire.

"Yes, yes. It's just this time of year and the snow." Y/N answered and turned back to the window.

Dean stood up again and came over to her. He put his arms around her from behind and looked out into the wintry world with her for a while. He knew that it made her a little melancholy, but that also passed.

"I just prefer summer." she turned around in Dean's arms. "Especially when you're on the high seas."

He had to chuckle at that and hugged his wife a little tighter.

Y/N had accompanied him on many business trips and in May Dean had extended the business trip by three weeks and had taken her to France. Also so that he could show her the stars on the open sea on clear early summer nights.

"We can do that again next year." he replied, which earned him a beaming smile from his wife.

"But you know it won't be as easy as this year, right? After all, we're not alone anymore."

Dean smiled now. "Which probably makes it even nicer." He gave her a quick kiss on the lips and let go of Y/N to go to the second door in the bedroom, which was open a crack and gave a small glimpse into the room behind it.

They had had to switch bedrooms three months ago and had now moved into a larger room because they simply needed the extra space. And they were also closer to Sam and Millie, who had finally gotten married in July and were now overjoyed themselves.

"How is he doing?"

"No! Stop, Dean! You're gonna wake Connor up!" Y/N whispered loudly with a chuckle as she saw how Dean attempted to open the door a little further.

"He'll be fine." He replied, but hesitated for a second before he opened the door a little more.

Y/N came over to him and both looked to the small bed in which their son lied and slept peacefully.

Dean pulled Y/N to his side and she hugged him back. He placed a kiss on her hairline, enjoying the warmth she gave off. The last year had so many firsts for them and sometimes he couldn't believe how happy he was now. Dean looked at Y/N and knew that she was a big part of this and he would do anything to not lose her again.

"He has your eyes." The woman said lovingly.

"And he has your nose." Dean countered with a smile.

"Come on. We should let him sleep as long as he does so calmly and peacefully." Y/N said and turned away from the door again.

Dean did the same. "You're probably right." But his wife couldn't go far before he took her back into his arms. "Actually, I was thinking about something." Dean grinned.

"And what is that?" although Y/N already had an idea.

"I'm sure Connor would like to have a little sister." he wiggled his eyebrows and Y/N laughed. She pressed herself a little tighter against him and looked at him lovingly.

"I'm not sure if it will work that quickly, but we can practice anytime if you want." Now she wiggled her eyebrows and Dean laughed.

"That's sounds like a solid plan to me, sweetheart." Dean agreed and begann to kiss her with all his heart.

A/N: And now we're truly at the end here. I'm a little sad now, tbh. 🥹

It has been such a ride and I wanna thank all of you who have joined me on this. And I want to thank everyone who left me feedback or reblogged my story. I was so overwhelmed with the responses and I felt so blessed. I appreciate you all so much! 💜 And I hope we see us again in february to my new story. 😁

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@thebiggerbear

[s0fter-sin]

one of my favourite aspects of supernatural that you very rarely see in paranormal shows is that sam and dean are already versed in the world they live in. there’s no sudden discovery of ghosts and demons and now they have to learn about them along with the audience; they are born into it and already know all about it. it allows the audience to follow their personal story instead of also trying to figure out this new world and its rules

the first season is full of knowledge we never see them learn; “w*ndigoes are in the minnesota woods or- or northern michigan. i’ve never even heard of one this far west.” […] “great. well then this [his gun] is useless.” (1x02), “you don’t break a curse. you get the hell out of its way.” (1x08), d: “it’s a god. a pagan god, anyway.” […] “the annual cycle of its killings? and the fact that the victims are always a man and a woman. like some kind of fertility right.” […] s: “the last meal. given to sacrificial victims. d: “yeah, i’m thinking a ritual sacrifice to appease some pagan god.” (1x11)

almost every episode in the first season is a monster they’ve faced before that they then explain to the audience in a way that should feel patronising; like it’s the same speech given over and over again but instead, the audience almost feels included in the knowledge. it’s stated with such an innate confidence and comfort in said knowledge that it feels like we already knew it too; “spirits and demons don't have to unlock doors. if they want inside, they just go through the walls.” […] “the claws, the speed that it moves; could be a skinwalker, maybe a black dog.” (1x02), “it's biblical numerology. you know noah's ark, it rained for forty days. the number means death.” (1x04), “no no no, not the reaper, a reaper. there's reaper lore in pretty much every culture on earth, it goes by 100 different names.” […] “you said it yourself that the clock stopped, right? reapers stop time. and you can only see 'em when they're coming at you which is why i could see it and you couldn't.” (1x12)

they already know and, at least in the first season, already have what they need to kill whatever they’re hunting; already know to salt and burn bones for spirits, fire for a w*ndigo, exorcisms for demons, a silver bullet to the heart for shapeshifters. there’s only three times in the entire first season that they run into something new to them; 1x14 when sam gets his first vision that leads him to another psychic, 1x16 when dean calls caleb for help on the sigil he put together and he tells him about daevas, and 1x20 when they find out vampires are real- and they only don’t know that bc john thought they were hunted to extinction and not worth mentioning

(there’s also technically two half instances if you count one of them knowing something the other doesn’t - sam figuring out the tulpa in 1x17 and dean already knowing about the shtriga in 1x18 - but those still rely on sam and dean having prior knowledge)

even when they’re uncertain about facing something, it’s not bc they don’t know what it is; it’s precisely bc they know what it is and acknowledge that it’ll be a difficult hunt (“i don't know, man. this isn't our normal gig. i mean, demons, they don't want anything, just death and destruction for its own sake. this is big. and i wish dad was here.” 1x04)

so much of the tension in paranormal shows typically comes from the main character(s) not knowing what is happening to them/the people around them and having to find out how to resolve it. supernatural is unique in that it operates more like a police procedural. the tension comes from solving the clues and identifying patterns to figure out who (what) the killer is and intercepting before they can take another victim

it’s such a different tone to go for when compared to other shows that came both before, during, and after its run. it sets sam and dean on even footing with each other since they both have the same knowledge going in, and it puts them in a place of authority usually reserved for an outside character

the shows i compare spn to most is charmed, buffy and teen wolf; every main character in those shows are brought into the paranormal world knowing nothing, putting them on the same level as the audience, and they have their mc interact with others already knowledgeable about that world in order to overcome their problem/monster of the week. the audience organically learns about this new world as the characters learn about it. it’s a sound writing strategy that prevents “as we already know”-style exposition but something that complicates it is if your world building isn’t unique or intriguing enough, this slow introduction can become boring

we’ve seen shows like these before; sitting through the same tropes of characters learning to use their powers, struggling with no longer feeling normal/relating to the regular world around them, and not knowing how much they can trust the people already involved in this new world gets repetitive. all three shows eventually reach the same level of comfort with their new world that spn starts with but if the characters aren’t enough to draw you in, you can end up dropping it before they reach that point (and often, before the overarching plot can really kick in and evolve the show beyond the villain of the week format)

it’s the superhero origin movie in tv format; dragged out and overplayed. dropping the audience into an established world of course comes with its own problems but you also have the benefit of pre-existing established character dynamics that let the audience slot in like they’ve always been there instead of just getting to know all the characters while the characters also get to know each other

sam and dean already knowing about the supernatural lets the audience immediately get to the core of the story; the conflict between sam and dean, the search for their father, and the mystery of what killed their mother

[thewulf]

Pretty Girl || Aaron Hotchner

Summary: So, the request/idea is an Aaron Hotchner x F!Reader where the reader is actually a criminology or psychology professor and is good friends with Spencer... Read Rest Here

A/N: Loosely based on one of my favorite story lines because I sat here for an hour trying to come up with a good enough story that’d stump Reid and failed. Mosely Lane. Doesn't get fluffy until the end. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Y/N

Word Count: 5.4k +

Dismissing the class for the weekend you sat back at your desk in the front of the auditorium strumming away at the keyboard. You heard the clapping before you saw him. Eyes crinkling a touch you smiled brilliantly at your longtime friend.

“Another excellent lecture Professor.” He grinned at you.

“Spencer!” You laughed shooting out of your seat hugging the tall lanky man tightly, “To what do I owe this visit to?” You asked after breaking apart from the hug.

His face shifted from one of joy to a downcast expression, “I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t serious.” He sighed taking a seat on your desk, “We need some help.”

You nodded listening, “Go on.”

He looked down as if he was ashamed to ask for help. As if he should’ve been good enough to solve it. But nobody was perfect. Sometimes cases can get away from you. You’ve had it happen once when every decision you made was the wrong one. It was always awful when you realized you might’ve made a mistake that got somebody killed.

“Kids. They’re just kids.” His voice wobbled as he looked back up to you. You felt your heart clench at the voice crack, “Another child was found off the Potomac just north of here.”

Your cocked your eyebrow in curiosity, “A local case? How many children?” You asked quickly hopping from professor to profiler in your mind.

He drew a deep breath, “Ten.”

Your eyes widened, “Over how long?” That was a lot of murdered kids. Who in their sick minds could do something like that? You’d been around a lot of sick people in your years in criminology, but this was already coming to the top of the twisted pile. Killing kids was another level of sick you despised coming across.

“A year and a few months.”

Your eyes bugged even further, “Christ.”

He nodded solemnly tossing the case file down on your desk. He watched as you meticulously poured over everything the team had put together in two weeks. You hummed and hawed as you fingers ran across the pages. Reading everything.

“These poor babies.” You let out an equally defeated sigh looking at the pictures of the mutilated bodies of the innocent.

He hummed in agreement, “We can’t figure it out. Another girl just got abducted in the same way the last boy was. We just found his body. I’m missing something here. I can’t see it.” You looked up at him. He looked utterly defeated. Tired eyes gave way to the lack of sleep he’d been getting. Messy hair and wrinkled clothing also adored his figure.

“I’m in. Let’s go.” You shoved your laptop in your bag before closing the massive case file to read in the car.

He gave you a confused look, “Right now? Don’t you have to teach?”

You nodded, “I’ll cancel it. Let’s go. Time is ticking for the girl. First to the office.” Hurriedly, you stood next to him eyeing him to lead the way. He nodded seeing your seriousness, You followed him all the way back to Quantico after calling your Dean. It had some perks, being the Director of Criminology at Georgetown. It almost made you giggle it sounded so ludicrous.

You flashed your badge having consulted on a few cases for different departments of the FBI. Security let you through in a flash. You’d never worked with Spencer on an actual case of his. Hell, he’d normally figure it out before he’d ever dream of pulling an outsider into the team. But even he knew he was missing something. A puzzle piece he couldn’t seem to find. That’s when he thought of you. His longtime friend from postgrad. The two of you were ostracized early in your studies. You for being an incredibly intelligent female and him because he was a know it all. The two of you found each other and the rest was history. You stayed in academia while consulting on the side and Spencer went the FBI route. Luckily, you’d stayed in touch through all the years. You found it easy to love him as a friend once you knew how to deal with the boy genius.

“Team, this is Y/N. Y/N, the team.” Spence said quickly once he all but yanked you into the large conference room on the floor. Your eyes glossed over each of them quickly before falling to the one on the end. Tall, dark hair, dark eyes, and a smoldering look? Whew, he was just your type. He’d make you nervous. You didn’t see a ring on his finger as you scanned him from head to toe quickly.

You nodded bashfully. You could lecture hundreds of students but the eyes of six profilers right on you was rather intimidating, “Hello.” You nodded quickly walking over to the white board that listed intricate details of the case you hadn’t skimmed across in the file.

“Director of Criminology at Georgetown?” The handsome man stood next to you. A quick nod before turning your eyes back to the board.

“Yes, sir.” You cringed at your own voice sounding so unsure of herself. That wasn’t like you, not at all.

You noticed the hard stare turn to curiosity for a second before the stoic gaze returned, “Aaron Hotchner, BAU Unit Chief.”

Ahh, the infamous Hotchner. You had to admit it was almost fun putting faces to the names you’d heard from Spencer throughout all the years. At no time did he mention that Hotch was as striking as you’d found him to be. It never crossed your mind to find them online. It seemed too invasive on Spencer’s life but now you were second guessing that decision.

“Nice to meet you Agent Hotchner.”

He wasn’t being unfriendly, but he certainly wasn’t warm. You could tell he didn’t want you here but agreed out of necessity. They weren’t able to save the seven-year-old boy and Aaron was sure as hell not going to let the little eight-year-old girl meet the same fate because of pride. Even though it stung.

He didn’t reply though, only giving you a quick nod. He stood there rereading the same damn sentences he’d read over a thousand times over the last week.

“This is the order they were taken and killed?” You pointed to the wall seeing the boy-girl pattern curiously.

“Seven-year-old boy and then an eight-year-old girl every time. Over and over.” It sounded like the case had depleted him entirely. Haunted eyes scanned over each of the children’s faces. Helpless. All looking eerily similar too each other.

“And you all interviewed 21 suspects in northern Virginia.” You stated more than questioned as you looked up to the curious eyes. They were expecting you, but they weren’t expecting you.

The blonde woman nodded with a gentle look settling on her face, “All dead ends.”

“Can I read their case files?” You asked ready to spend the next few hours scouring over the notes. Maybe a fresh set of eyes could pick up on something they’d missed.

She nodded running out of the room to grab them. Spencer watched you before joining you at the table as you read through the entire file from where you left off in the car. You thanked JJ when she set another

“Y/N will stay here with Reid. The rest of us, we’re heading back out.” Spencer nodded reading what you were. Still not seeing anything. He watched as you scrunched your eyebrows and highlighted certain words on the page. Gray Honda. Black scooter. Pink bike. What were you onto? What did you see? He wracked his brain as you worked seamlessly between pages.

You read over the next potential suspect. He must’ve heard the small gasp escape from your lips. As he immediately urged you to go on by asking, “What is it?”

“The Darcy’s. We need to go back. There’s something here Spence.” Your finger held over a simple line in the interview. One that’d been glossed over. A seemingly useless detail in a sea of muddled mess of facts and fiction.

He shook his head not getting it continuing to urge on with his eyes, “He messed up. He slipped up and said gray.” You started reading from the transcript, “He said, ‘I took the car out for a spin at that time.’ And then JJ asked, ‘What kind of car to you drive Mr. Darcy?’ He responded, ‘A gray… shoot I mean black Honda Civic. Sold the gray one last year to a family member.’”

His head cocked, “A gray Honda Civic... oh, shit.” He dove into the papers finding exactly what you were looking for, “The interview with the witness who found the body. She spotted a gray Honda along her route.”

You nodded, “She thought it was odd because it was so early in the morning. Nobody is ever out.”

“We need to call Penelope.” Spencer gaped.

He pulled out his phone, “Garcia, who did David Darcy’s sell his car to last year?”

She hummed, “Well hello to you too! Give me a second boy genius.” You heard her typing away through the speaker phone, “Looks like it’s Mike Darcy. His brother.”

He looked at you with nothing but approval. He knew you were good at your job, but this was exceptional. You’d pieced it together so easily he was almost embarrassed he hadn’t caught that himself, “What do you have on him?” He asked. Again, silence with more typing before another really long silence and the faintest gasp.

“Garcia?” Spencer was finding it rather infuriating he was the one on the other side. He was the one who couldn’t seem to piece it all together. It wasn’t like him.

“He lost his entire family in a car accident two years ago. His wife and two children.”

He was shaking his head know all too well the aged of those two children, “An eight-year-old girl and a seven-year-old boy?”

“They don’t call you boy genius for nothing right?” Her laugh sounded strained but relieved. It wasn’t an easy life. Often times so much harder than you could ever dream of. The horror of humanity never ceased to amaze you in the worst ways imaginable.

“Thanks Penny. We gotta call Hotch.” Reid’s eyes were huge before as he dialed his boss’s number, “Hotch, you’re never going to believe this.” He walked off spouting off everything you’d just concluded. Letting out a huge sigh of relief, you listened to your friend off in the distance. It had to be the brother. That had to be the missing puzzle piece.

You felt somebody watching you as you cleaned the files up. You’d begged Spencer to let you go but he straight up refused. Hotch wanted to talk to you or some bullshit like that. You’d, very reluctantly, agreed.

“We looked for days.” His voice sounded harsher. A bit meaner than it did earlier. You turned to meet his eyes that looked how his voice sounded, unhappy with you.

“Just needed a fresh set of eyes was all.” His eyes didn’t change. His state only seemed to harden as he took you in.

“Thank you. She was found safe.” It sounded as if it was torturing him to give you the thanks.

You nodded quickly turning back around to clean the mess up, “Anytime.” He didn’t look bad by any means. Must’ve been a pretty easy arrest. You’d seen Spencer at his worst after unsub’s had been confronted. It was inevitable when you hunted the worst of humanity.

“We won’t be needing your services any longer.” Your heart both sped up and dropped a little at that statement. He didn’t like you. Plain and simple. Had you done something to piss him off? Upset him somehow? You ran through the events of the last few hours and came up miserably short. You’d just have to ask Spencer later.

Before you could respond though an older, almost more intimidating than him, woman walked into the room shaking her head, “That’s not what we agreed on Aaron.” She turned to smile at you, “Erin Strauss, BAU Section Chief.” She walked over to shake your hand eyeing you up. You’d were curious to what she was thinking as she approached you.

“I didn’t agree.” He all but mumbled out. That didn’t sound like the intimidating man that had just tried to put you in your place moments before.

“One vote matters more.” She turned to him. She must’ve given him a look you couldn’t see because he mumbled an agreement. It was surely a sight to be seen. Spencer would eat this one up later. Your longtime friend loved gossiping even though he’d never admit to it.

“That was impressive.” She kept sizing you up, profiling you. She wasn’t shy about doing it either. She’s the big boss and she knew it, used it.

“A new set of eyes can do wonders.” You’d downplay it, for Aaron’s sake. Not that he deserved any of your mercy at this point. He hadn’t exactly been the nicest too you.

She nodded quick, “Sure.” She didn’t have the time to go back and forth with you, “You teach close?”

“Yes I do. Georgetown.” You kept it short and sweet not bothering to elaborate with details she clearly didn’t care about.

A smile broke out on her face, “Dean Willow is a dear old friend of mine. I’ll give him a call. We may call in the future. That is if you want.”

She was giving you the option now, “I would like that. Real world examples are invaluable for my students.” You could’ve sworn you heard a scoff from over her shoulder.

She smiled though, “Wonderful. I’ll give him a call later. Nice to meet you Doctor?” She questioned trying to find out more about you.

You nodded giving her the confirmation you too were one, just like Reid. He wasn’t the only one with a PhD, “Nice to meet you as well Erin.”

She walked off quickly leaving you alone with Aaron. Instead of chatting with him you turned back to the table trying to finish what you’d started long ago, cleaning the damn table up.

“You have no right.” His voice was much louder, much closer now.

Heart hammering in your chest you had to be strategic here, “It was an offer.” Your voice was soft, too soft, and gentle for the moment. You hated confrontation this aggressively, it always seemed to get the best of you.

His lips pursed as he considered his words, “Stay out of the way.” Was all he said before walking out just like Aaron. Yikes. That couldn’t have gone worse.

You’d been called back for almost every local case and even a few further away ones that needed urgency on the clock. That’s where you’d seemed to thrive when the clock was ticking. It never seemed to get better with Aaron. He was cold with you. Never downright mean but brushing the line that he knew he couldn’t cross. Still, you’d never seemed to grow to dislike the man. Spencer let it slip that he felt like he let the entire team down when I came in and solved a case in hours.

You knew how finnicky pride could be. You knew just how dangerous that emotion could turn out to be. You’d let it get the better of you a few times. That was the difference between life and death though. The difference between bringing a family back together or giving them the worst news of their lives. So, you’d give Aaron a pass even if he didn’t really deserve it.

You’d also grown to adore his team. You’d made sure to ask Spencer time and time again to confirm that you weren’t overstepping but he shook it off each time telling you that he enjoyed having you on some of the cases. It brought him back to the fun they had in post-grad all those years ago. Naturally, you’d gravitated towards your friend during the cases you’d been asked to join. Aaron’s eyes always seemed to be glaring at you whenever you caught him. You had a sneaking suspicion you didn’t catch him nearly as often as you did.

Spencer would always just tell you that it was just Aaron. But it had been months now and he was still as ice cold as he was on day one. One by one you’d become close with each of the other members but never dreamed of approaching him. He’d let you know just how much he disliked you. You’d gotten the message loud and clear.

A call came through in the dead of night waking you from the light sleep you were in, always ready, “Hello?” You sounded groggy.

“Y/N. It’s Strauss. Another abduction. Fifteen-year-old girl this time.” She didn’t elaborate waiting for your response.

You sighed, “Why is it always children? I’ll be there in forty.”

Sleepily, you drove into Quantico. You were delighted to see you were the last on there, the team already at work. Yawning you slipped into the conference room greeted by a rather

“Y/N! You’re here. I was getting nervous.” Emily smiled patting your shoulder before moving over next to JJ.

Derek laughed, “Pretty boy was just about to call.”

You grinned looking over at Spence, “Sorry guys, the apartment is closer to Georgetown than it is here.” Your commute was just under an hour. Forty minutes if you pushed it.

“We’re just glad you’re here.” JJ chimed in patting the seat next to her, “We think we have a lead, come take a look.”

Hotch watched in awe as you moved to sit next to her. You’d seamlessly integrated yourself as a semi-permanent member of his team. They’d all seen you an integral member to specific types of cases. Cases that had time constraints. And unfortunately for you that seemed to be child abductions more often than not. Had he been too harsh on you? Was he doing it to protect his team that didn’t even need it? He had a sinking feeling he already knew the answers to those questions, and it wasn’t going to be what he wanted to hear.

He continued to watch as Rossi joked with you, Reid smiled far more often than he’d been used to, Derek already gave you the nickname ‘pretty girl’ to match Spencer’s own pretty boy. You brought ease and order to the team. You took the stress and siphoned it out of a situation. Even Aaron had to admit you were a hell of a profiler. He wasn’t blind either. He found you exceptionally beautiful. A detail Spencer conveniently left out.

He knew he might’ve already burnt that bridge with you though. He’d been nothing but an ass to you. You’d never snapped back though. Always taking everything in grace. You knew the pecking order and it wasn’t up to you to dismantle that or shake up the status quo.

Spencer noticed Hotch’s apprehension to his friend. Spence felt awful that his boss had yet to warm up to you. You were nothing but kind and incredibly good at your job. A combination that Hotch was usually a sucker for. Was his pride really that badly wounded?

He heard you let out a string of cuss words seeing the pictures of the last crime scene. Brutal. Absolute brutality. Whomever was doing this to children was beyond help.

“Jeeze Y/N, you kiss your boyfriend with that mouth?” Derek smirked laying it on thick. That comment brought Hotch right back into the present far too curious to hear what you had to say.

You threw your head back in laughter, “Hardly Derek. Between the teaching, directing and this. I don’t have the time to go meet anybody.”

Derek’s eyes flicked to Hotch’s so quickly even you didn’t catch it, “Who says you haven’t met him already?” Your eyes found his, a fiendish persona reveled in your bashfulness after tops of your cheeks turned a twinge pink.

You couldn’t let him win like that. Not with all those eyes listening in to the conversation intently, “In your wildest dreams Morgan.” A wink sent him into a fit of laughter. He too loved your ability to give and take. Knowing how to play along with him seamlessly.

Hotch coughed drawing all those curious eyes back to him, “Let’s get moving. Reid and JJ head back to police station and update the chief on the latest. Emily and Rossi go update the family. Morgan and Y/N you’re with me. Unsubs house.” You gave him a twisted look. You’d never been with him, and you’d certainly never been to an Unsubs residence while on a case. You were a profiler. A professor. Not a cop. Not comfortable with confrontation your heart was already picking up the pace just thinking about it.

“I don’t think this is a great idea sir…” You’d managed to mumble out once most of the team had cleared the room. You were sure your nervousness was full front, and center displayed across your facial features.

He cocked his head studying you again. Always studying you. Always on guard around you, “I think it is.”

You cursed under your breath almost embarrassed to admit it to him, “I’ve never done that before, going to an active scene.”

He shrugged loosening his gaze a smidge for the first in front of you, “First time for everything. You’ve been through the training in the last few months. You can do it.” He nodded eyeing the door but making sure your head was in it before he left. Last thing he needed was you not 100% ready and getting injured. He knew you were ready for it though. He’d had a daft curiously of how you’d handle that type of pressure.

The three of you sped to the crime scene. Morgan forced you to sit up front by diving into the truck and taking the entirely of the back seat up shooting you a sly grin before shutting the door. You felt the weight of the bulletproof vest

“Stay behind me, pretty girl. We’ll go room to room on the main level.” Derek spoke with conviction once the three of you made it to the front of the home. Your heart was hammering so hard you could hear the blood echoing in your ears. Focus. You could do this. Aaron believed you could.

Hotch nodded, “I’ll take upstairs. Listen to Morgan.” He ordered before nodding at Derek. All hell broke loose as you went room to room clearing. Before you heard the gunshots upstairs. Morgan rushed upstairs with you behind him. Hotch stood with his gun pointed at the now deceased unsub who had a shotgun in his own procession.

“The girl. Where is she?” You asked turning away from the blood spatter that laced the wall behind the body.

“Go, find her.” He barked turning away from the kill. You prayed that was something you never had to do.

You ran out downstairs searching. It wasn’t until you found the basement door that you flew down there. A strangled gasp came from your throat as you spotted the girl in the corner on a bloody mattress. You shuddered at the thought that it wasn’t only her blood coating that mattress.

“Hotch! Morgan! She’s down here!” You bellowed out dropping the gun immediately and softening your expression after witnessing the shaking, bound girl. She’d been beat up. Quite a few times by the look of differently faded bruises littered haphazardly around her hardly dressed body.

You unzipped your jacket clutching it in your hand. Putting your hands up you dropped down to your knees keeping a distance away letting her know you weren’t a threat. You put your hands up, “Hi sweetheart. My name is Y/N. I work for the FBI and we’re here to help you. Can I bring you this jacket to cover up?” You asked her in your most gentle voice. Like you were talking to the most helpless soul on the planet. She might’ve been at that very moment.

Aaron and Derek watched from the stairwell as you stood up walking over to her with slow small steps. Once you reached her you dropped down again, “Is it alright if I touch you? What hurts the worst sweetheart?”

She shook her head before breaking. Breaking down completely. The tears turned to ugly sobs. She reached out for you, and you grabbed her quickly. Pulling her right into your embrace. She fisted your shirt like her life depended on it unaware of the two men watching the scene unfold before them. They’d called for an ambulance and just had to wait. But you were there for her. He felt a light flutter in his stomach as he watched you caress her face and play with her hair. Whispering in her ear and hold her tight. You were a natural. Aaron could see it plain as day now.

Slowly her harsh wails turned to strained tears. Almost all her energy depleted as she leaned on you. You wrapped your jacket around her small frame to cover whatever decency she had left. The poor babies life was over as she knew it. Her life was going to be an uphill battle from this point going forward. Your heart shattered as you brought her back into your chest. Whispering those sweet reassurances to the utterly broken girl sitting in your lap.

Once the ambulance took her away Hotch turned towards you observing once more. Your usually chipper grin was downturned. It had affected you more than he had sensed. It was hard. Impossible sometimes. And this was a good outcome. An exceptional one even.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked finally letting that guard down.

You nodded so softly he didn’t know if you truly meant it or not, “Yeah. I just… I’ve never done that. Spence always told me stories, but I guess… I don’t know.” You sighed at a loss for words.

He stepped forward placing a hand on your shoulder this time, “It’s okay. It’s difficult. We all know. But think of the good you’d done. You were there for her when she needed it most. We didn’t train you for that. You’re just a good person. Don’t let this job ever take that away from you.”

Your mouth almost dropped as listened to him. He was always a man of so few words this felt like an all on speech for you. So long was that hard gaze you grew to expect over the last few months and was replaced with something much softer and kinder. The look he gave him other agents. The ones he’s known and worked with for years. Maybe Spence was right, maybe he was warming up to you a bit.

Things had been going well. Another month had passed, and you’d been called on for few more cases. You’d refused pay simply because you came and went as you had time. You called it tunning up for your professorship.

Aaron had completely warmed up to you over that time. You were still terribly timid around him. Old habits died hard with you. But he was trying. Making small gestures when you were around. Getting you coffee, holding open the door for you, smiling a little bit more.

It wasn’t lost on the team. They’d seen the change even if you refused to. Spencer constantly bugged you about it once Morgan put a big in his ear. Planted a seed that bloomed in that beautiful brain of his.   

Aaron had a scowl on his face watching you and Spencer joke around in the conference room. Why weren’t you even remotely like that with him?

“You could just tell her instead of shooting daggers at Reid.” Derek clapped his bosses back cracking a smile at him.

“She doesn’t like me.” The scowl dropped as he turned towards his agent.

“So, you think. More intimidated by you than doesn’t like you. You were kind of an ass there for a while.” Derek egged his boss on. It wasn’t often he was able to get under his skin.

Aaron rolled his eyes, through gritted teeth he answered him, “I know Morgan.”

“Why were you anyway?” He asked, digging for more and more. The true king of gossip at Quantico.

He shrugged, “To protect you guys. She was an outsider. We didn’t know anything about her.”

Derek let out a laugh that even drew your attention away from Spencer and over to them. Giving them a sheepish wave, you looked away back to Spence quickly. Aaron’s hard eyes turned soft made you feel a certain type of way. He was back to being that handsome man you first laid eyes on. A man who seemed so far out of your league it was laughable.

“Whatever you want to tell yourself boss man. But we both know that’s not the case. It’s okay to have feelings after Haley. It’s been years Hotch.” Morgan squeezed his shoulders urging his friend on, “I’m going to go grab Reid. Go apologize and tell her how you feel. You might be surprised. Go be happy instead of being jealous.”

He mumbled something incoherent but didn’t stop him. Spencer gave Derek a knowing look. You waved him off turning back to the case you were reviewing. It wasn’t a moment later the same chair Spencer

“I’m sorry.” He spit it out certainly not afraid to beat around the bush with it.

Tilting your head to the side you asked, “What for?”

“Being an ass your first few months here.” Again, he was com

You were a bit stunned, “Oh, thanks. I’m happy to be here.”

“You are an exceptional profiler Y/N and an incredible asset to this team. You’ve got a heart of gold. You work with victims better than anybody I’ve seen. Do you know how heartwarming that is to witness? You’re a natural with it all. So, I’m sorry. I’m so happy to have you here.” He let out a breath after airing it out there.

Your heart rate sped up to that rapid rate that made you feel almost uncomfortable, “You mean it?”

“Every last word.” He looked at you expectantly. It could go either way. Either really good or horrifically bad.

You gave him your first genuine smile. One he’s seen come out for everybody else except for him. Until now, “Thank you Aaron. That was very kind.”

He nodded, “Of course. It’s the truth.” You could tell he wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

You felt a weird surge of confidence brush over you, “For the record. I’ve really enjoyed working for you. With you. I’ve learned a lot.” You too wanted to say something more, but the words were impossible to think of.

The tension was thick. But Aaron decided to cut it. Throwing caution to the wind, “Since you technically don’t work here I don’t think what I’m going to say next is really crossing the line.” He breathed taking a second before gathering the courage he needed, “You are absolutely beautiful Y/N. Inside and out. You’ve been chipping away at my heart ever since you stepped into this world. You are exceptional. I like you. Way more than a boss should. Way more than a friend should.”

Your mouth did drop this time. That was everything you wanted to hear and exactly what you expected not to hear. He liked you? You’d thought back on the month and didn’t see the signs. It seemed so obvious once he spoke it so clearly.

You started giggling at the hilarity of it all.

“What?” He asked smiling, easing back in his chair feeling eased by the lightness of the room.

“I can profile everything but my own damn life.” You kept giggling only to be stopped when he grabbed your hands.

“You’re even prettier when you laugh like that.”

Your blush was mad by now, “Thank you Aaron.”

“Would you let me take you out sometime? On a date? A proper one. Where we get dressed really nice. I’ll take you to a fancy restaurant. All that jazz.”

You smiled even wider, “If that’s really what you want.”

Squeezing your hand as a confirmation he nodded, “Pretty girl, it’s all I want.” His grin was everything as you both sat there smiling at each other like two lovesick fools.

Permanent Taglist (Message me or comment below if you want to be added!): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556

Request Taglist: @evansflowers

[calibrationneeded]

John dehumanizes Sam and Dean in different ways, but both in the way a solider would to keep a “level” head in a situation, which I think makes a lot of sense, as John was a marine.

Initially, he seems to view Sam as someone might view the “good side” in combat, something that needs to be defended even if it means laying down your life, but there’s no actual emotional connection, a soldier who loves this country doesn’t necessarily love the people. Later on after the demon blood incident it’s like a switch is flipped for John, and all the sudden he sees Sam almost as a traitor who needs to be taken out. It kind of makes me think of in zombie media when a character is turned and another one kills them without hesitation because it doesn’t matter if they used to be their loved one, they have to kill them for the greater good.

With Dean, he treats him kind of like a subordinate or fellow officer. He cares about him, but in the throes of what he sees as battle, if his comrade is taken out, he can’t always stop to save them, he would have to do what’s best for the greater good in the situation. He would feel sad if Dean died, but he would justify it by saying that, that’s the way war is, and that Dean was a martyr (as if Dean chose to be in John’s Sudo army). I think this is also why John is so aggressively hard on him because he doesn’t see him as his son, he sees him as a soldier who needs to be harped on.

This is also reflected in the canon because there are several times where a character will assume that Dean was in the military, and he will answer along the lines of that he did serve, but he’ll be vague. To be perfectly honest, Dean did essentially serve when it comes to the emotional toll, but he was never in an actual military position. 

“Even extreme grief may ultimately vent itself in violence--but more generally takes the form of apathy.” -Joseph Conrad (Heart of Darkness, 1899.)

[my-proof-is-you]

We Can’t Be Friends

Sam x Reader One Shot based on this request!

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

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

You

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

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

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

”W-What?” You questioned. 

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

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

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

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

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

Three Weeks Later

You

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

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

This person was not Sam or Dean.

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

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

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

“Who are you?” You demanded, unflinching.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sammy.

We.

Vacation.

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

Sam was dating her. 

Sam

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

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

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

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

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

Danielle wasn’t you, though. 

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

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

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

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

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

”Yello?” Dean answered on the second ring.

”Is everything okay?” Sam asked.

”Yeah…why?”

”Where’s Y/N?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yep, all good.” 

You

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

“What?” You asked, feigning innocence. 

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

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

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

“Or something,” you muttered. 

“Y/N,” he said, staring you down. 

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

“Yeah,” he replied with a shrug.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

”Yeah. Oh.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Until now, that is.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It wasn’t.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You scared me,” he said quietly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I made a mistake,” he said quietly. 

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

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

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

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

He swallowed, his soulful eyes meeting yours. 

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

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

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

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

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

Sam 

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

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

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

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

”Dean—“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Being together was worth the risk.

Forevers:@divadinag @lynne1993 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​  @onethirstyunicorn @sammykb1994 @lilulo-12 @mellorine-paprika @tranquility-or-chaos @collette04 @hoboal87 @chevyharvelle @miraclesoflove @defenderrosetyler @babypink224221 @calaofnoldor @beatifuldisaster018 @coffeebooksandfandom @supernatural3002 @lainxcas @mylovelydame21 @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @lovely-lynns-likes @ppeachygemss @screechingartisancashbailiff @metalfangirl @vicmc624 @polina-93 @hobby27 @sexyvixen7 @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad @lyarr24 @amelia-song-pond @donnaintx @spnbaby-67 @traceyaudette @gh0stgurl @fiftyshadesgrl @tapedeck-hearts @lacilou @foxyjwls007 @stoneyggirl2 @kr804573 @cumuluscranium

[wandering-winchesters]

Wreckage

Summary: The things you see as Dean is taken by the hell hounds. Trigger Warnings: Mentions of gore, blood, death and rather emotionally tough to read.

The world shattered around you in that single, agonizing moment. You had been fighting with everything you had, your heart pounding in your chest, adrenaline surging through your veins. But it hadn’t been enough. The instant the Hellhounds appeared, a sickening dread settled in your stomach, because you knew what was coming. You knew what was about to happen, and there wasn’t a damn thing you could do to stop it.

You had seen Dean face death before. You’d fought side by side with him in battles that seemed impossible, and you’d always made it out, always found a way. But this time, there was no way out. This time, it was different. This time, it was the deal coming due—the deal that Dean had made to save Sam, the deal that had a countdown ticking louder and louder until it finally hit zero.

When the Hellhounds lunged, everything went into slow motion. You screamed his name, lunging forward, trying to get to him, but it was like moving through quicksand. You weren’t fast enough. You weren’t strong enough. And you had never felt so utterly helpless in your entire life.

The first hit was enough to knock Dean off his feet, and the sound that escaped him—a guttural, agonized cry—cut through you like a knife. You watched, horror-stricken, as the invisible beasts tore into him, ripping at his flesh, dragging him down. His blood sprayed across the floor, vivid against the dark, and you could see the pain in his eyes, the terror as he fought against the inevitable.

“No!” The word tore from your throat, raw and desperate, but it didn’t stop the onslaught. You were on your knees now, reaching out, trying to get to him, but it was too late. It was already too late.

The room was filled with the sound of snarling, growling, and Dean’s broken cries of pain. You wanted to close your eyes, to look away, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t leave him, not even for a second, not even in this final, horrifying moment. You had to be there, had to bear witness, even as it tore you apart.

Dean’s body convulsed under the weight of the Hellhounds’ attack, his blood pooling around him, soaking into the cold, unforgiving floor. You could see the fear in his eyes, the desperation, and it killed you because there was nothing you could do to save him. You had failed him. You had failed him in the worst possible way, and the realization crushed you, suffocating you with its weight.

Your breath came in ragged gasps, each one a struggle as if the very air around you was too thick to breathe. You couldn’t feel your limbs anymore; all you could feel was the overwhelming agony that seared through your chest, burning with a pain that you knew would never leave you. It was the pain of loss, of watching someone you loved die in front of you, and being utterly powerless to stop it.

Dean’s eyes locked with yours in those final moments, and the look he gave you—it broke you. There was a plea there, a silent, agonized plea for help, for it to stop. But there was also something else—something that would haunt you for the rest of your life. It was acceptance. He knew he was dying, knew this was the end, and there was nothing you could do to change it.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice choked with tears, barely audible over the sounds of death surrounding you. “Dean, I’m so sorry…”

But he couldn’t hear you. The Hellhounds were relentless, their jaws clamping down on him with brutal finality. Dean’s body jerked one last time, and then he went still, his eyes staring up at you, empty and lifeless.

The room fell into a deafening silence, the Hellhounds retreating into the shadows as quickly as they had come. All that was left was the mangled, bloodied body of the man you loved. And the crushing, suffocating void that now filled your chest.

You crawled to him, your hands shaking uncontrollably as you reached out to touch him, to feel the warmth that was already fading from his skin. The blood coated your fingers, slick and warm, and it made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn’t stop. You needed to hold him, to touch him, to make sure this was real and not some horrific nightmare that you might wake up from.

But it was real. Dean was gone. He was gone, and you were left in a world that suddenly felt cold, empty, and devoid of all meaning.

The tears came then, hot and unrelenting, streaming down your face as you cradled his lifeless body in your arms. You couldn’t speak, couldn’t form the words that might bring him back. All you could do was hold him, sobbing brokenly as the reality of what had happened crushed you under its weight.

Everything inside you screamed at the injustice of it all. Dean had been the strongest person you knew, the one who always found a way, who never gave up, no matter the odds. And yet here he was, torn apart by forces that you couldn’t fight, that you couldn’t protect him from. You had never felt so utterly, completely defeated.

“Please,” you whispered, your voice hoarse and broken, a desperate plea to whatever higher power might be listening. “Please, bring him back. Don’t take him from me.”

But there was no answer. No miracle. Just the cold, empty silence of a world that had lost one of its brightest lights. A world that had lost Dean Winchester.

The minutes stretched into hours, or maybe it was just seconds—you couldn’t tell anymore. Time had lost all meaning as you sat there, holding onto Dean’s lifeless body, your tears mixing with the blood that stained the floor. You couldn’t let go, couldn’t move, couldn’t even breathe without feeling like your entire world was collapsing in on itself.

Dean had been your anchor, the one who kept you grounded, who gave you strength when you had none left. And now he was gone, ripped away from you in the most brutal, heart-wrenching way possible. The thought of a future without him, of a life where he wasn’t there by your side, was more than you could bear. It felt like the world itself had ended, and all that was left was an endless, suffocating void.

You weren’t sure how long you stayed there, clutching onto Dean’s body, praying for something, anything, to bring him back. But deep down, you knew it was futile. Dean was gone, and with him, a part of you had died too. The grief that consumed you was unlike anything you had ever felt before, a black hole that threatened to swallow you whole.

And as you finally, reluctantly, pulled away from him, your hands shaking, your heart shattered beyond repair, you knew that nothing would ever be the same again. Dean was gone, and with him, your hope, your strength, and your reason for fighting.

The world had become a darker place, and you were left alone to navigate the wreckage, forever haunted by the memory of the man you loved, the man you couldn’t save.

The world had become a darker place, and you were left alone to navigate the wreckage, forever haunted by the memory of the man you loved, the man you couldn’t save.

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