#bidanverswritingchallenge

[lils-writes-stuff]

Fiery Bruises//Arsonists Lullaby

Sister Winchester!Oc x Supernatural

summary: Lillian Winchester is the best thing the brothers have ever had, and when she gets hurt, they won’t stop until they can fix her. 

warnings: MAJOR TW: this story has to deal with rape, sexual assault, and the trauma with those instances, please do not read if these are triggering to you. ANGST, sexual assault, cursing (maybe), mentions of murder, supernatural level gore stuff

A/N: This is my entry for @bi-danvers0​ writing contest, I hope y’all enjoy it!

Cold, cold and violated, that’s how she felt. She tightly wrapped her jacket around her body and walked down the streets of Lebanon that were lit up by glowing orange street lamps. She wiped the snot running out from her nose and wiped a tear from her cheek in the process. 

The crisp November air was enough to make anyone freeze, and she could smell the rain that was soon to come. The damp air and the cloudy night sky could tell anyone that though. Shortly after the rain would follow the snow, only making this time of year for her even more unforgettable. 

Lillian Winchester had never felt so helpless in her life.

Her boots padded against the ground softly, and her ripped jean-clad thighs rubbed together. She lightly tripped over a crack and stumbled forward, never falling to the ground, but she was glad no one saw because it was embarrassing.

 She had already felt enough embarrassment for a night. 

She stopped walking when she heard rapid footsteps behind her. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up in instinct, the voice in her head told her to run. She turned to the right and rushed down an alleyway, hoping to Chuck that it was not who she thought it was running down the sidewalk.

 “Lillian?” Castiel’s voice called to the youngest Winchester.

All night, the Winchester brothers and their angel friend had been looking for the young girl. She went out that afternoon for some alone time (i.e., a time where she could shop and be a girl and not a hunter). It was two a.m. now, and she hadn’t even called them. 

“Cas?” 

Cas let out a sigh of relief when he heard the young girl’s voice in response to him.

“Lillian, thank god, we’ve been looking for you for hours,” Cas said as he walked closer to the girl tucked into the side of a dumpster. Rain began to come down from the sky, making Lillian’s curly hair straighten out, and her clothes stick to her body. 

She quickly stood up, wrapping her arms around the angel’s neck and hugging him. She didn’t let out a cry; she couldn’t. She was too embarrassed to let her brothers or angel friend know what had happened. 

She wasn’t ready to talk about it. 

“Come on, let’s get you back.” Cas guided the dirty-blonde to the car he had brought into town and drove the two of them back to the bunker, after calling Sam and Dean to let them know he had Lillian.

 -------------------

“Lillian,” Dean breathed when he saw his baby sister enter the door of the bunker. He set down the beer bottle in his hand and stood up, walking to meet her at the bottom of the stairs.  

She gave a half-smile and a small wave to the two men who were now standing beside the war room table. 

“We were so worried, bug,” Sam said, his tall frame covering her in a hug. 

“Hey, kiddo, don’t do that again,” Dean said to her when he went in for a hug. He pulled back, placing a hand on her right shoulder, making her tense up the let out a whimper. 

His hand was placed on her shoulder as he passed by her in the store.

 “Lillian?” Dean questioned with concern as he saw the young girl’s eyes gloss over. “Are you alright?” 

She quickly snapped out of her memory and looked at the three men in front of her. But she couldn’t see their faces, because all she could see was him. 

He was the worst monster she had ever faced.

 “No.” 

-----------------

Her home was the one place she was supposed to feel safe, but everywhere she looked, all she could see was his face. He was always smiling at her and if he was there long enough, she could hear his voice whisper what he said to her.

“You want this.” 

She grabbed the trash can beside her bed and threw up in it again. 

“Cas, what’s wrong with her?” Sam asked the angel who had left his younger sister’s room minutes ago.

 “She-she uh.” Cas stumbled over his words as he tried to explain what he had found out while he was in there. Lillian didn’t speak to him, and when he would get close to her, she would curl into herself and turn away from him. And when he reached his hand out to touch her, she screamed. “I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean ‘you don’t know,’ can’t you do the mind-reading thing?” Dean asked aggressively. He wasn’t trying to be mean, but that’s how he sounded. “She said she wasn’t fine, but now she won’t even talk to us? What the hell is going on?” 

Sam let out an exasperated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He heard the scream she let out when Cas was in there, and it broke him to pieces. This was his baby sister, who was stronger than most everyone. 

She was an orphan until Dean and Sam had found her. When Dean got sent to the future where it was the apocalypse by Zacheriah, future Dean introduced him to the younger sister he found. Of course, in that future, this Lillian was half insane from the time she was in but she was all the future Dean had and that was enough for him to hold onto.

When Dean was sent back to 2009, he went and found a fourteen-year-old version of the girl he saw in the future. She was in a foster home in Dallas, Texas, and from that moment on, she was a hunter. 

Lillian peeled the white t-shirt off of her torso and looked at her body. A sports bra covered her breasts, but she could see some bruises peeking through on the top. Her left side was a giant bruise, still in the early stages, but it was dark and covered most of her side. 

When she turned to look at her other side, she could see the top of a bruise on her hip below her jeans. She slowly unbuttoned the top button of the three and pulled the top of her jeans down. The bruise was in the shape of four fingers that were pressed into her side. 

She let out a sob, and tears began to roll down her face. 

His hand gripped her hip tightly as he had her cornered behind the small department store. She kicked and thrashed, not being able to scream from the hand placed over her mouth.

She was fighting so hard, but he was a lot bigger than her. And no matter how hard she bit at his hand, kicked at his legs, or pushed at his chest, he wouldn’t budge.

It burnt where he had touched her. Not the welcoming kind of fire either, the kind that hurt, the kind you didn’t want.  

Knock knock. 

“Lillian?” Sam’s voice said through the door. “Can I come in?” 

Lillian quickly fixed her jeans and pulled her shirt back over her head. She then walked over to the door and undid the look, allowing her brother to come in. 

When Sam entered, he looked and saw the young girl sitting criss-cross on her bed. 

“Hey.”

 She didn’t respond, just kept staring at the threads of the blue blanket on her bed. 

“Hey, bug, look at me,” Sam said, trying to coax her to look at him. 

She looked up at him, eyes bloodshot and the rims of them red from tears. They were empty like she was a shell, her soul not having anything left to feed on.

 “What’s wrong?” 

She didn’t respond again, her lip just quivered, and she let out a sob.

 “It hurts,” she whimpered. Her side burned, searing hot pain, and her hip ached in so much pain. “It hurts so much please make it stop Sammy, please.” 

-----------------

“That’s all she said?” Dean asked as he stood out in the hallway with Sam and Cas. 

Sam nodded with tear-stained cheeks. All he could do was cry when he heard her plea, but he couldn’t help her because she wouldn’t tell him what was wrong. Watching her sit there and cry and whimper in pain was too much, and he had to leave the room.

 “She wouldn’t tell me why or what hurt,” Sam explained, then whipped another tear that rolled out of his eye. “I-I couldn’t sit there and watch her plea and not be able to do anything, I just, it was just-”

“No, Sam, it’s okay,” Dean stopped Sam before he could continue and try to blame himself for something that wasn’t his fault. “I’ll go see what I can do.”

“You were asking for it.” 

“This is what you want.” 

“A pretty face like yours gets this.”

 “You can’t resist me.”

 “The things that I’m-”

“Lillian, look at me.” Dean’s command made Lillian look up at him in the mirror. He stood behind her from where she was leaning against the sink in her room. 

Her hands were placed on the white porcelain as she leaned against them to keep herself steady. 

“It burns, De,” she said, not giving any more explanation to the words that were burning in her mind and the pain that was searing her side.

“What burns, Baby girl? Talk to me.” 

She shook her head, tears rushing out of her eyes. “No, no, no.” 

Dean walked closer to her when she pushed herself off the sink. “Lillian.” 

She was panting, trying to catch her breath. She crossed her arms and placed them over her head, exposing her side to her brother.He could only see a small portion of it, but Dean knew that bruise was large.

 He sucked in a breath when he saw it and quickly walked closer to Lillian so he could inspect it. “Sweetheart-” 

When he reached out for her she jumped back and screamed again. 

Dean’s heart shattered into two because now he knew what had happened.

 ---------------

“Yeah, thanks, Donna. See ya soon,” Dean said before hanging up the phone with one of the women he knew could get through to Lillian. Sam had handled calling Jody, and they both would be down to Kansas by that evening. 

Dean had red hot tears of anger rolling from his eyes as his mind couldn’t help but think of the monster that did something so unspeakable to his baby sister. She was sweet and innocent, besides killing a monster, she wouldn’t even hurt a fly. She was the kindest person anyone had ever met, and that sicko probably took advantage of that. 

There was an empty beer bottle on the table. Dean picked up the brown colored glass, inspecting it, then throwing it with all his force at the stairs in front of him. The bottle shattered and dropped to the ground. 

Sam stepped into the room quickly after hearing the sound, afraid something worse then a bottle breaking had happened. But it was worse because when he looked at Dean, he saw the face Dean got when he knew he needed to kill something that was hurting someone. But this was more personal because this was Lillian, the girl who he raised from fourteen and was practically his daughter.

“Dean,” Sam spoke softly. 

Dean didn’t look at his brother for a second. His head dropped and he sucked in a breath. He then turned to his younger brother. 

“As soon as we get a name or anything that can identify this guy-” Dean puffed his chest and took on his protective stance- “we’re going to kill this son of a bitch.”

Before Sam could have any response, Dean turned around and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Sam?” Jack’s voice said from behind the tall man. 

Sam turned around to look at the Nephilim who stood with a concerned look on his face. “Jack, uh, hey, good morning.”

 It was morning now, seven a.m. to be exact. And besides Jack, no one else in the bunker got any sleep.

 “Is-is everything alright?” The younger boy asked quietly. He could feel the heaviness in the air and he was concerned.  

“Um, no Jack, no, not really,” Sam said sadly, looking down at his jeans from the day before he still had on.

 “Why? Did you guys find Lillian? Is she okay?”

 Oh, Jack, she is far from okay, Sam thought to himself. 

“Cas found her, yeah,” Sam explained before he could go into more, heart-wrenching detail about what happened to his sister. “But she’s not alright.” 

“Maybe I can help her,” Jack perked up with a boyish, then taking off to Lillian’s room. 

“No, Jack,” Sam called to the boy who was already at Lillian’s door. 

Jack opened the door to the young girl’s room and what he saw was his first real heartbreak.

 Lillian sat on the ground beside the sink in her room. She had no shirt on, just a sports bra covering her and it looked like her bruises had grown and taken on new colors. What little mascara she had on was smudged underneath her eyes and her hair was matted together at the ends.

 She looked so broken.

 “Hi, Lillian.” Jack squatted in front of her. He had a soft smile on his face as he tried to make her feel safe. He reached his hand out to touch her side so he could heal it, but she screamed, making Jack fall back from his squatting position. 

Sam quickly ushered Jack out of the room before he could scare or upset her anymore. 

After the door to her room was closed, Jack turned to Sam with a sad expression.

 “What happened?”

 Sam sighed and looked away, trying to figure out the best way to explain the situation. 

“She um...we believe that Lillian was hurt by a man.”

 Jack still didn’t understand the severity of the situation. “But she faces male monsters all the time who hurt her.”

“No, no, uh, this is different,” Sam responded with a huff. “He hurt her...uh, sexually.” 

Then it started to click with Jack. Things he had learned from Dean about picking up women.

 “When they say no, they mean no.” 

Jack let a tear slip from his eye. 

------------------

It still burnt, the pain wouldn’t subside. 

Lillian was sitting on her bed with her knees pulled up and her back against her headboard. She had turned on her TV but she wasn’t paying attention to what was on it. Some hallmark movie playing was just background noise for her. The cherry song playing in the movie as the protagonist walked down the street of some small happy town made tears prick in her eyes. 

She stared at the screen, never once blinking as she didn’t absorb the information in the movie. His voice just kept replying in her head. Flashes of the events from the day before were going through her mind.

Her muffled screams, her tears, everything she did was no use because he wouldn’t get off of her. 

There was a light knock on her door, one that sounded nothing like her brothers or Cas.

 She stood up and unlocked the door and then scoured back to her bed, going right back into the position she had been in.

 “Hey, sweet girl,” Jody said as she entered the room softly, Donna following close behind. 

“Hiya, Lillian,” Donna greeted.

Lillian looked up, a sense of comfort from the two women forming in her. She gave them a half-smile and a wave.The two women looked at each other before they sat on each side of her on the foot of the bed. 

Outside the youngest Winchester’s room stood the four men of the bunker, anxiously waiting for a prompt so they could go kill the man who did this.

 “Hey,” Jody said, laying a light hand on Lillian's sock-covered foot. “We’re here for you.”

 And that’s all Lillian needed before she broke down. The flood gates opened and her tears and sobs came pouring out.

 “Okay, okay, shhh,” Donna said as she moved to the top of the bed to hold the fellow blonde. She reached a hand to Lillian’s face and wiped some tears from her freckled skin. 

“Lillian, if you’re ready,” Jody began, saying the last part to let her know that she didn’t have to answer this right now. “Can you tell us what happened?” 

Lillian was sucked back into her mind for a second, the events flashing in her brain. 

The four men that stood outside the room listened to the cry that was let out. Each of their hearts breaking at the sound of the sob they heard. 

“I need some air,” Dean muttered, leaving the three others and heading away from the hallway.

 “I was in the last store I was going to for the day,” Lillian began when her breathing was somewhat even. “He walked behind me, his hand grazing my shoulder and a smile on his face. He started to talk to me, and he seemed so nice, and he was cute, so I talked to him, and I flirted with him. But when I went to leave, he followed me...I thought he was just going the same way as me at first, but when he went into the same diner, I knew it wasn’t a coincidence. He stared at me while I ate, and then when I left he caught me outside. He asked me for my number, but I told him no.”

She paused and took in a shaky breath. 

“He wouldn’t let go of my arm, and I kept trying-” she punched the palm of her hand- “and trying-” another punch- “and trying.”

Her voice trailed off into a small sob. Jody and Donna both had tears running down their faces as they listened to her.  

“And then, he pulled me down an alley...and I, and-”

Jody and Donna had a fire in their eyes that was fueled by hot anger in them. They could imagine how people just passed by and did nothing, not thinking anything of it or not wanting to get involved. They saw it too often being cops, and it was sickening.

“You don’t have to tell us the rest,” Donna assured the young girl, knowing it would be too much for her to do right now. 

“Lillian,” Jody said, prompting the blonde to look at her. “What was his name?”

She didn’t want to say it. She was afraid that if she did, he would come in there and hurt her again. 

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Jody said in a comforting mother tone. “He can’t hurt you anymore, no one here will allow it.”

 Lillian nodded, feeling comfort in that. 

“Malachi, Malachi Jacobs is his name.”

 -----------------

All Dean saw while he drove was red. He couldn’t wait to get his hands on the son of a bitch who hurt his baby sister. No one who hurt her ever lived. Ever. 

Sam sat impatiently in the passenger seat of Baby, his leg bouncing in anticipation. He had cried too much that day and he needed to get rid of the problem. 

Although, even if they did kill the monster, that didn’t mean Lillian’s trauma would go away.

 Cas sat in the backseat, a stoic expression on his face. He was ready to take any measure needed to make this man suffer.

 “How could someone do this to her?” Sam asked the question he had been keeping inside since they figured out what was wrong.

 Dean glanced at his brother before panning back to the road. “I don’t know,” Dean replied coldly.

“She’s just so, she’s so nice and sweet and, and-” 

Sam couldn’t wrap his brain around the fact that some man, no boy, thought he was so entitled to something that he would...ugh.

“He probably took her kindness and light flirting as an open invitation,” Dean explained through clenched teeth. “And he’s going to die because of that, so.”

 “Dean, we’re not actually going to kill him,” Cas said, but instantly regretted it after.

 “No one hurts my baby sister and gets away with it. No one.” 

That was all the answer the other two needed. 

--------------

 “Okay, here we go,” Donna said as she helped lean Lillian under the hot water that streamed from the showerhead. 

The hot water ran down her back allowing her muscles to relax. The feeling of the water and soap going across her skin made the fire go away. She felt as though she was washing away all the bruises that burned and all that would be left was the memories.

When Donna was done washing Lillian’s hair, she handed the young girl a towel and allowed her to be by herself for a little bit.

 Lillian wrapped the towel around her body, her wet hair stuck to her shoulders. She walked up to the fogged up mirror on the wall and wiped it clean. She looked at her reflection, the girl standing back looking completely new compared to the one from earlier. 

She still had the same scar on her right cheek, the same freckled skin, the same bright blue-green eyes, all the same, physical appearance. But she couldn’t help but hate her body a little more after what happened. 

It felt tainted, used, abused, and all the things in between. She looked at her bare sides and only saw the way his hands had grabbed her. She looked at her wrists and saw the way they wrapped around them and squeezed them so tight, it cut off her circulation. She looked at her lips and saw the way he muffled her cries for help.

 She let a singular tear run from her eye before she wiped them away and walked back to her room.

 After she got dressed, she sat in the middle of her bed. No voices filled her head now, but she could still feel that burning sensation in her mind. 

It was like the memories were branded in her brain. No matter how many good memories her psyche would drag up, the new ones immediately pushed them away. 

“Hey, Lillian, can I come in?” Dean’s voice came through the door along with a knock. 

“Yeah,” Lillian replied loud enough for him to hear.

 Dean twisted the knob slowly and walked into the room. It was a lot brighter than when he walked in earlier, both her lamps were on allowing a cool glow to cast across her room. 

Dean looked at the girl who sat on the bed, damp hair slowly noting together as it dried. She had one of his old henley’s draped over her torso along with a pair of leggings adorning her legs. Dean walked over to her dresser and grabbed the blue hairbrush that was sitting on top. 

He made his way to sit behind her, his right leg folding under his left. He reached up and began to gently brush the hair cascading down her back.

 As he brushed away the knots, the two of them sat in silence for about a minute. Dean continued to brush his younger sister’s hair, even though the knots were gone now. It was calming her, he could tell by how her shoulders relaxed and she didn’t tense up when he would move her hair. 

“Did you kill him?” Lillian asked, breaking the silence. She had her head resting on the arms folded over her knees, curled up in a ball.

 Dean sighed. “No, but he’ll never come near you again though I can promise that.”

 While Dean did want to kill him, Sam had come up with something better. They had Jody call one of her friends from the precinct in Lebanon and after Malachi had taken a good beating, he was arrested. And he was going to spend a long time in prison. 

Lillian felt relief wash over her. Dean saying that he would never bother her again made her feel much safer.

“Dean,” Lillian said softly. Dean hummed in response, still working the brush through her hair that matched his in color. “Do you think I deserved it?”

 Dean stopped brushing. 

Lillian turned back to look at him, tears running down her cheeks. Man, was she sick of crying. 

“Baby girl, why would you even think that?” Dean asked with a broken heart at her question.

 She shrugged, Malachi’s words ringing through her head. “He said I did.” 

Dean’s jaw locked and he ground his teeth together. “I should’ve killed him.” Lillian didn’t respond, she just gazed down to the bruises on her wrists. 

Dean took notice of how she was staring at them and grabbed her hands so that she would stop. He moved her hands to the side and placed his hands on her face gently so she would look at him.

“Lillian Elizabeth Winchester, don’t you ever believe what that monster did to you is what you deserved, okay?” Dean said sternly, but his voice was kind. “You are beautiful, kind, and deserve the world. Never believe what he did to you is what you deserve, because you don’t no one does.”

He pulled her head forward and placed a kiss to her forehead and wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her lightly not to hurt her bruises.  

 -------------------------

Dean ordered pizza that night for everyone. Jody and Donna decided to stay and hang out till the next day, deciding the harsh weather outside would be too much for them to drive in at night. 

“Is she gonna be okay?” Jack asked as they sat around the war room table eating.

 Dean had told Lillian that there was pizza but she had yet to come out of her room yet. She had moved to her bed and decided to watch the Scooby-doo marathon on TV. Dean was happy with that because at least now she had something to distract her. 

“She will be,” Jody said softly with a sigh. She would be fine, but not right now, maybe not tomorrow but she would be. 

They were silent for a few seconds as they all ate. Then Dean and Sam perked up as they saw Lillian enter the room slowly.

 Her arms folded over her chest as she walked into the room, moving over to the chair between Dean and Sam. Where she normally sat.

 “Hey,” Dean said as he watched her sit down in the chair on his right. “How ya feelin’?”

 She shrugged. “Fine.” That was how she felt, fine. Almost numb, but the memories still burned in her brain when they reached the surface.

 Sam reached with his over with his hand and placed it on her shoulder hastily, and when she didn’t flinch, he pulled her closer for a hug. She sunk into his side and wrapped her arms around his torso from the side and squeezed him tight. They both let out a soft sigh, feeling safe and sound with each other.

 Dean smiled at his two younger siblings, basking in the happy moment. He reached his hand over to the box and pulled out a large slice of pepperoni pizza, plopping it onto a plate beside it.

 Lillian smiled as Dean sat the delicious food in front of her and reached over and hugged him also. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and placed a kiss on top of her head gently. 

When Lillian pulled away from the hug, she looked at all those around her at the table, giving a gentle smile to them. “Thank you,” her voice crooked out. “Thank you guys for being the best family I could ask for.” 

While the memories still burnt in her mind and the trauma undoubtedly would never go away, she was glad she had these people. These wonderful people who made the fiery bruises and searing memories a little less painful. It was almost like they were an extinguisher for the flames that were burning her. 

Lillian Winchester may have felt hopeless for the past day, but with a family like this around her, she knew that she wouldn’t ever have to feel like that for long.   

[beanie-beebo]

I can’t do this without you.

TW: Major character death, suicidality (sorta)

Summary: The reader and team free will find themselves trapped in an impossible, apocalypse-like situation, with practically no way out. Set in season 15 during the first episode (or an AU of the finale, you choose). Inspired by listening to The Last Pale Light in the West by Ben Nichols

**********

“Dean, there’s no way we’re doing this. Absolutely not.” You said, straining to hold the buckling doors in place.

“Well, I don’t see any other way out of this, (Y/N)! We played all of our cards already, it’s over.” Dean said.

You looked up at Sam beside you, pleading for him to see through his brother’s nonsense. Through his gritted teeth, he gave you a defeated expression. No, this couldn’t be it. You glanced to your right at Cas, who displayed a similar face.

“We are not giving up. What the fuck happened to Butch and Sundance, huh? This isn’t the Team Free Will I know.” You retorted.

“Well gee (Y/N), what the fuck do you expect us to do? Cas has no juice, Jack is dead, and every being that has had it out for us is between us, and this door!” Dean said.

You paused for a moment.

“We fight.”

“How?!”

You quickly assessed the decent sized mausoleum you were too busy to take in at first glance. It was fairly new aside from some dust settling from the commotion outside its walls. You were practically buried in your deathbeds after Chuck had unleashed his wrath. The only weapons you had were the ones you could carry, some cement slabs, and maybe some rope dividers attached to metal posts. There were two doorways. One being blocked by a large pile of trees, the other by the boys and yourself. Thankfully, there weren't windows low enough for anything outside to reach. Nor were they large enough for a full body to squeeze through. By one of the nearest windows, was a vent. Likely leading to another room or the roof.

“We escape.” You said, still looking up.

“Not sure if you’ve noticed (Y/N), but we are surrounded by a sea of monsters.” Cas said.

You looked to Cas, whose eyes were currently shut. You practically bored holes into his sides until he looked at you. He arched an eyebrow until he followed your gaze up to the vent.

“And how the hell are we supposed to get up there?” Sam asked.

“I mean, Sam’s tall, but not that tall.” Dean said, causing Sam to roll his eyes.

Your eyes trailed down to the above-ground graves which thankfully weren’t flat slabs on the wall.

“We climb.” You said.

“Couldn’t we just use that rollaway platform over there?” Sam asked, nodding his head to something behind you.

You looked to where Sam was referring to, wanting to smack your head out of sheer ignorance. “I didn’t even- Does it go that high?” You asked.

“One way to find out,” Sam said. “Could you go grab it? We got the door.”

You nodded and rolled the ladder over to where the other three were positioned. Upon looking up, you realize the ladder could work, only that it was a few feet too short.

“Well, beats climbing.” You said. “How are we going to close the gap?”

Everyone paused to think. You looked over to the rope barriers stashed in the corner of the doorway. You held them up and tested their strength. Satisfied, you showed the boys. The only problem that remained, was the door.

“The only thing is…” You nodded your head to the doors that were surprisingly still standing.

Dean held out a hand and you handed him the rope barriers. In a swift movement, he stepped away from the doors and created a makeshift barrier with the door handles and the steel barrier posts.

“Ladder; now!”

Your heart pounded in your ears as you all sprinted up the fifteen foot ladder, almost causing it to topple over at least twice. At the platform you froze, realizing you forgot your link to the vent down below. Sam began punching the vent, seemingly already having a plan in mind. Beneath you, the doors threatened to fall off their hinges with each pounding. 

“Does anyone have something I could bash into this vent with?!” Sam asked.

“Your shoe?” Cas said.

“Wait Cas, let me see that angel blade.” Sam said.

After a few seconds of tinkering, Sam finally began to hastily unscrew the vent lid with the blade’s tip. Your palms began to sweat as you heard a hinge break off the double doors.

“Sam hurry!” You said.

It was like a domino effect. In the matter of seconds, you all began to hear the sound of metal popping out from the door frame onto the tiled floor. The droning masses outside were now more prominent.

“Sam!” Dean yelled.

The last screw had dropped. “Got it!”

Sam hoisted himself into the vent with a leap and held out his arms for everyone else to be pulled up. As Dean got into his brother’s grasp, the blocked doors flew to the ground. The ladder shook violently as monsters began to throw themselves upon it. Your stomach sank as a vampire flashed its teeth not far from the platform. 

“(Y/N), come on!” Dean yelled over the roaring noise.

You turned around, failing to notice before that you were the only one remaining on the platform. You looked back to the monsters on your tail; they had caught up. You weren’t going to make it. Tears stung your eyes as you glanced back at the men you had grown to love.

“(Y/N) jump! ” Sam screamed out.

What was even the point? You closed your eyes and waited for the inevitable. Three arms tightly gripped into your underarms and you suddenly went flying upwards unexpectedly. ..Then it was dark. You blinked until your eyes adjusted to Dean’s ass, practically in your face. You were moving forward, being half dragged in what you realized was the vent. You blinked again. There was a pale light, and a roof under your feet. Dean forcefully turned you around and got down to your eye level before taking your face in his hands.

“Never do that again. Do you understand me?!” Dean said angrily.

All you could do was stare at the stupid freckles that littered his cheekbones and the tears that threatened to fall from his eyes.

“What were you thinking?” He asked, softer this time.

“Uh.. guys?” Sam interrupted.

Dean turned around, allowing you to see Sam in plain sight. You followed his eyeline to the rumbling vent you had just exited. You were royally fucked.

“Was this the only way out?” Cas asked, still composing himself.

Suddenly, you felt claws dig into your leg and you yelped in surprise. Without a second thought, you shot behind your back with the last silver bullet you possessed. You silently thanked whoever was on your side, as the apparent werewolf was shot in the heart by chance.

“Cas, behind you!” Dean screamed.

Who you thought was Sam, was suddenly lunging at Cas, almost pushing him off the side of the building. You called out for Cas and began to run beside Dean until your attention was brought to a plume of monsters from a previously unseen vent. You looked back to Dean, who was currently unsheathing some sort of sword. You bit your lip and turned your back to them, knowing Dean had it covered.

As soon as you turned your head, you were face to face with what appeared to be a man, until his mouth enlarged to the size of his face. With Dean having the only sword, you headbutted the leviathan and sent it off the roof. Sharpened tips then tore into your shoulders, causing you to yell out in pain and side swipe whatever was beside you. You couldn’t even take a single breath without being pummeled. It wasn’t long before you were flat on your back, the air knocked almost completely out of your lungs. Your vision slightly wavered as a woman with black eyes smirked above you. 

“Last straw, kid.”

Your insides were both tight and on fire at the same time as blood began gurgling up your throat and into your nose. You could have sworn you were done for. That was, until a blade poked through the demon’s chest from its backside. Her body glowed and flickered momentarily before being roughly pushed to the side, revealing Dean. A mix of tears and blood began to pool in your eyes in relief. He gently raised you to a sitting position and gave you a once over. You nodded in reassurance. Slowly helping you to your feet, the two of you ran back towards the vent as Cas handled the last of the escaped monsters.

You were torn. The real Sam was nowhere to be found and your great plan had you all trapped on the roof of a mausoleum. It had to be your way.

You both tried to hack away at as many heads and grabbing arms from the vent as you possibly could, but there were just too many. Despite the adrenaline coursing through your veins, you were beginning to grow exhausted.

Suddenly, Dean dropped beside you, millions of claws and teeth clinging to his flesh. Your stomach dropped. He cried out in pain as he tried to free himself from their hold; you physically jolted yourself back to the present. As they began to drag him into the vent, you dropped to your knees and gripped him tightly even though you were outnumbered. 

“Dean!”

“(Y/N), we both know how this ends!” He said.

“This is not the end!” You cried, using the chimney as leverage.

Right before your eyes, his face quickly paled. You gritted your teeth and screamed Cas’ name into the cold air. After a series of thuds, the former angel was instantly by your side, hacking at anything that poked out of the vent. All the while, you kept a firm hold on Dean. You glanced down at his face, which now held a weak, pained expression.

“I’ve got you Dean, stay with me.” You whispered softly, tears beginning to well up.

You looked up at Cas, who had miraculously trapped the monsters for the time being. He panted and looked at Dean, and then you, sorrowfully. You quickly turned your attention back to Dean, whose eyes were now shut.

“Dean, hey! Wake up.” You yelled, shaking his limp body roughly.

His facial expression was peaceful, too peaceful. You felt for a pulse and was momentarily frozen by his stillness.

“NO, this is not happening. Damnit Dean, wake up! ” You cried, shaking him harder. 

Even with the muffled sounds of monsters below you, all you heard was silence. Your throat hurt and your ears began to ring as Dean’s limp body lay loosely in your grasp.

Still I see a faint reflection

And so by it, I got my way

The song lyrics cut through the eerie silence like a hot knife through butter. The ringing had stopped, but nothing remained besides Cas and the lifeless body below you. Your eyes never strayed from his closed ones, the ones you would never see staring back at you again. No. You listened, for anything. A chirp of a cricket, a sigh of relief, a woodland creature crunching in the grass below. 

Nothing.

There was nothing.

In my hands, I hold the ashes

In my veins, black pitch runs

In my chest, a fire catches

In my way, the setting sun

Dark clouds gather 'round me

Due northwest, the soul is bound...

...There's a light yet to be found

The last pale light in the west

A/N: Writing on mobile sucks ass, especially if you copy and paste from another source. 1/10 would not recommend. Save yourself the frustration.

Anyway, I kinda teared up writing this (especially the first draft). So sorry for the pain. 😅

Thanks to @bi-danvers0 for the challenge!

[kyber-kisses]

FAm!

FaM!

This was so fucking good that I can’t even come up with proper words- like it have me whiplash! Every time I think my writing is decent I read yours and it’s like a gift from the gods. How do you do it?!

Every single word pulled me in, the way you describe things so well, *chefs kiss*

And I loved how your casually wove the song lyrics into it instead of just pasting them, it fit together so brilliantly holy shit. I could practically feel Deans love for her pouring out of my damn screen.

Thank you so much for joining my challenge! I’m already looking forward to the next one! You did brilliant my friend!🥰🙌🥰🙌

Good in Goodbye

Day 1 of Kinktober: Beach Sex

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: This is my piece for @bi-danvers0 challenge, based on that Moon Song (pieces of the song will show up). Congrats for your milestone, honey! I can't wait to be celebrating another one with you.

It's also my entry for kinktober. I can't believe it's already October! And the divider was made by @talesmaniac89 !

Get spooky... Wait, not yet. Get wet now. ;)

Summary: You, Dean, and the beach. Make good use of your last night together.

Warnings: dirty talk, public/beach sex, p in v, unprotected sex, smoking!dean (yep, that's a warning), a bit of angst, fluff, and then porn

Dean Winchester wasn’t good at letting go. Leaving was easy — not having a home since he was four taught him a few tricks — but he was never one to let anything go. There was a big difference between those two easily misplaced definitions.

“What do you mean by last night here?” 

You crossed your arms, watching him shrug with disbelief. He was leaning against the car, cigarette in hand, and moonlight on his face. The close, familiar noises of the river and the dancing leaves were the only sound between you two.

A little of your hair flew in your face as he answered: “You know I move around a lot because of my dad's job.”

“And he just tells you that you're gonna leave in twenty-four hours!? No warning or anything?” Your voice was high pitched. How could John just blatantly do something like that? His son was 21. He deserved more than a simple pack your bags, we’re going in the morning.

“Sometimes the job takes longer; sometimes it doesn't.” He shrugged, not visibly sharing your indignation. It almost seemed like he didn’t care at all. It only made you more irritated. “I mean, we spent a month here. It's a long time for me.”

“Why do you seem so okay with this?”

Dean pursed his lips, avoiding your eyes.  “I'm used to it.”

“Used to leaving people you care about behind?” Your voice weakened a bit. A greyish fog left his lips after another drag. The smoke in the air couldn’t hide his shame, reflected in a skeptical look that lifted your tongue in a silver scream that was directed by and into him. 

He knew you hated it when he smoked near you because of your nasal problems, but the vicious habit eased his anxiety from time to time. Right now was a perfect moment for a little help. The fact that you didn’t even call him out on it was proof that he was fucked up enough to need it, too. 

He sighed. ‘’It’s complicated, Y/N.’’

You shook your head, turning away from him. “You know what? Nevermind. I thought you — We had something that made it at least hard for you to leave.”

“Whoa, whoa. It's not like that. I never said I wanted to hit the road.” Dean threw the cigarette on the grass and stepped on it, grabbing your arm gently in the process. Whatever he did, he couldn’t walk away with you thinking that he felt anything but the four-lettered word he never got to say before you. “I don't have a choice.”

You moved your body to face him again, now closer than before. It was a welcoming gesture as his warmth travels onto you through the cold night. His hand slipped over your arm to find your hand, and you interlocked his fingers to bring him near. “I could talk to my parents.”

“Your parents hate me.” Dean chuckled, wrapping his free arm around you.

“Meeting you with no pants while you tried to sneak in my room wasn't a good impression.” You nodded, a slight grimace on your features. “Neither was the bad boy persona.”

Dean smirked. “You love it.”

“Yes, I do.” You got on your tiptoes quickly only to press a peck to his lips. Dean put his hands on the back of your neck as he tried to deepen the kiss, but, much through his mumbled dissatisfaction, you pulled away. You grinned. “What if you came to live with me when I go to college? It's just a couple of days away.”

He offered you a loving gaze along with a melancholic smile. “You know I can't. My dad and Sammy need me.”

Both of you were quiet after that. You wanted to be mad, to scream your lungs out at him and point fingers until this despair dissolved into a fury, but you knew that wasn't on him. Dean's strong sense of family was one of the things that made you fall for him, after all.

Your frown melted into a content expression. “You know what? We deserve a decent goodbye. Let's go to the beach.”

Dean arched his brows. “We have a lake right over here.”

“A cage will never be a bird's home, and a lake will never be a beach.” You beamed. The Winchester rolled his eyes despite the stubborn smile on his lips.

“Shut up.”

A FEW MILES AWAY

You were in front of his green eyes, getting rid of your clothes between amused glances under full lashes and sweet giggles. The taillights of the car burned bright. He was standing next to the right one when his palm accidentally rubs there. They were hotter than hell, but Dean still granted you a few seconds before pulling away, too mystified by how you looked as if it was the first time he had seen you — or any other woman — naked before.

Something about endings always evokes similar, lingering emotions to their beginnings. 

You nodded at the sea. “Come on, cowboy. The beach is waiting for us. Why are you still wearing clothes?”

Then, you grinned at Dean as if you had invented smiling only to give them to him.

It's cold. He had never been to an actual beach before, and there were no towels in his dad's car — it was definitely going to end up drenched. 

The Winchester took an advance on rationality for once, trying to control his reflexive erection. Your nipples were hard. It was cold. First time on the beach in the car, things could happen, and in John's car nonetheless.

Nipples. Cold night. Beach. Car.

Nipples. Night. Beach.

He was long gone as soon as he placed his eyes on you, wasn’t he? It was so obvious. He wondered if you could tell how totally whipped he was for you.

“Dean?”

“If we end up getting sand or whatever in us, that's on you.” He pointed at you, eyebrows slightly raised as Dean started to get rid of his jacket. 

You winked at him, wearing nothing but a cheeky grin. “Relax, pretty boy. You'll only be getting inside someone tonight.”

He hustled to take off every piece of clothing after that, almost falling in the process. You laughed softly at his behavior, Dean was so adorable in his own butch way. How were you going to spend your days without his dumbassary?

Fortunately, your calamitous thoughts were interrupted by him. Finally throwing his underwear away, he licked his lips as he glanced at you. Dean grabbed the opportunity, approaching your nude figure only for you to run away with a chortle. 

“Y/N!” Dean shouted, your response being an even louder laugh. He tried to run quickly as if he was chasing a monster while you got closer and closer to the ocean. He knew that would be his end if you got there; you were a good swimmer.

That was the boost the hunter needed to go faster. It was still strange; his toes in the sand. Dean had never gone to a beach before which was probably why he was looking around instead of chasing his naked, adventurous girlfriend, but hey. He got to see your ass from behind, and he could almost feel his fingers touch you. If only the Winchester was used to running on the sand — that was difficult as fuck, as if every little grain of sand was glued to his feet. It would be nice if he could sit and enjoy it, but not now. 

The hunter ultimately put his hands on his prey, grabbing your elbow to pull you to him. You were the opposite of scared when your chest shook against his, a clear signal that you were caught. Pearly whites shone brightly under the pale moonlight, cheeks dimpling with joy. If there was one thing Dean could count on, it was the secondhand happiness he could feel simply from being close to you. 

And the hardness you often made present in his cock.

You bit back your smile, eyes focused on him. Dean was always gorgeous, and natural light was really a great look on him.

Yours and Dean's feet were in the sand, that exact spot where the bold, yet shy waves touched the bare sand before going back to the ocean. He pulled you to him, your bare breast pressing against his, while his semi-erect cock touched your belly. A quiet moan left your lips.

“Let's get in the water,” you said in a low tone, grabbing his wrist and guiding Dean into the shallow tidings of the greater sea. The water was a little cold, but nothing near freezing as he would have expected. The ocean slowly covered yours and Dean's bits as you walked deeper, and the Winchester took this opportunity to look around.

The beach was really different from any other thing. The sand was lighter with a bunch of coconut trees that surrounded the place that he was trying really hard not to make a joke of. The water that embraced him was a pleasantly gauzy kind of delicate that would change with a simple sleight of hand. He liked it.

Besides, the moon glistening bright had a certain charm, and the naked woman in front of him was even more stunning. Yeah, he absolutely loved beaches.

“Enjoying the view?” You claimed his attention back to you. Your finger lingered on his tattoo while you looked up to him with a grin. “I said you'd like the beach.”

Dean could look to the moon or the sea, but he preferred your wide eyes. “I think there's something else here that I'll like even more.”

“Yeah? I wonder what it is” Your palm met his chest as if you wanted to memorize what his heart had felt like before he broke it himself.

“That hot ass smoking woman.” His hands held your waist and pulled you to him, water swirling as his hardness was pressed against your stomach. 

“And what would you like to do with her, amor?” Your nickname for him rolled off your tongue, and Dean was about to moan for that. He always got turned on when you spoke another language, especially with that fucking accent.

He didn't want — or have — time to waste. Dean slid into your pussy in a swift movement, groaning in relief when his cock was embraced by your wet walls. You arched your back towards him. 

“Get inside her tight pussy.” He leaned in, kissing your earlobe and starting to move at a quiet but steady pace. “Fuck her really nice and slow, take my time.”

“Wh-What if she wants it faster?” You moaned, both in pleasure and dismay. Dean chuckled — your impatience was so entertaining.

“She will. My girl likes it rough and fast, but, you know, she loves to tease me.” His voice was gruff as usual. You couldn't help but bite your lip to suppress a whine as Dean kissed your jaw. “Might as well tease her too, huh?”

“Dean…”

“You look so good, honey. Getting all worked up for me on the beach, right in the open where anybody could see us.” Dean pulled his face away for a mere moment to observe the surroundings, soon nuzzling back into your neck. “Don't care. They should know you are mine.” He groaned before sucking on the tender place of your shoulder. A disgusting thought of you with someone else invaded his mind. Dean grabbed your hips tighter and thrust into your cunt deeply. “You are mine.”

“I'm yours, Dean. Always,” you assured him. The green-eyed man didn't have time to doubt the blatant lie because you let out a needy cry. Nothing else was worth his attention. “Now man up and fuck me faster.”

“Whoa, sweetheart. Only because of your attitude, you won't get it fast.” Dean gave you a lopsided grin, hips moving painfully slowly. All of his hard dick filled your tight cunt, hitting the G-Spot only for a moment before leaving again. That wasn't what you needed because, for as much as you loved it, you were getting closer to your orgasm with each pound. “You're gonna come like that, feeling all my cock inside your needy pussy slowly, and you'll love every second of it.”

Shamelessly, you whined: “Dean! Amor, please.”

“Not fair, Y/N.” Dean grunted, grabbing your ass. You knew how messed up he got when you begged, like every instinct inside him functioned purely to give you what you wanted while simultaneously getting a boost from his girl craving him. Your pulse was high, bottom lip jutting out. All of your body screamed for more of Dean. You held onto that feeling, speaking through your quick breath:

“Please, amor. Dean, fuck me hard. Fill me up, please. Dean, I need your cum. Please.”

All he could think about now was you, your pussy, and fucking you rough enough to be all but destroyed for any other man but him to touch. He wanted you to be his forever. Dean would be the one leaving, but God, you were the one who came running like some strong wave and got him hungry, broke, and desperate for a bone or offering. He could worship you forever. His hips were suddenly moving by themselves to give you both what you craved so much — each other.

“God, I love your dirty mouth. How you feel around me.” Your moans divulged how good he was taking you. Dean'd trade any good, old rock song for that. He amped up the pace, faster and deeper — just how you liked it. Neither of you cared about the saltwater cloaking you. “You gonna take all of my cum, Y/N? You gonna cum for me? Come all over my cock?”

You were pulling him closer with your small hands, and it meant so much. You were pulling him, pulling on his heart like the marvelous moon pulled on the sea, and both went to their goddesses without any questions.

That full bellied moon, she's shining on Dean when he parted his lips, eyes closed through a scream of your name as you did the same with his. You catch a glimpse of true stars when both of you come. In the barely cold water, your bodies were hotter than the sun behind the moon, tangled together as the ocean embraced you — ultimately calm.

“I love beaches,” he breathed out, exhausted and satisfied for the next few minutes. Dean laid his eyes on you, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk. You giggled, happiness sparking your body like a firecracker.

“I love you.” You smile at him, all the light-hearted emotions suddenly as bright and high as the moon.

Those words didn't leave him often, but it seems natural now: “I love you, too.”

It's not just typical words between lovers; it's a silent prayer — don't forget about me.

Don't let me go when I'm gone.

I will not let you.

Dean Winchester isn't good at letting go. Yes, he can push things away, but it's gravity: they will always come back. 

Still, he's good at pretending. Half of his job is about it, anyway, and he's good at what he does. When Dean pursed his lips and looked forward in the Impala's passenger seat, not even Sam noticed he was sad, and, if John did, he didn't mention it. He wiped his face and looked away.

If Dean looked into the car's mirror, he could still picture you hugging yourself as he left you on the porch last night. So, the hunter didn’t look, even when an inner and desperate urge begged him to as if the need to hurt himself was as necessary as breathing. He just kept his green eyes on the road, saying nothing like he usually did when things broke — either a toy or himself. He would fix it alone. 

Everyone has had their share of blue hearts, and you know it. A heart isn’t a heart until it’s broken. At least you know you have a working one as you watch the back of the car disappear into the horizon. 

And Dean has left some girls before, but those broken hearted lovers have nothing on him. Not after this. The never mending broken bone.

Dean's sweetheart: @akshi8278 (DEAN'S TAGLIST OPEN)

Hunters: @demonhunterbarbie @bi-danvers0 @emilyshurley @diabetes-03 (ALL SPN WORKS TAGLIST OPEN)

Kinktober Taglist: NEW&OPEN!

[herstarburststories]

Good in Goodbye

Day 1 of Kinktober: Beach Sex

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: This is my piece for @bi-danvers0 challenge, based on that Moon Song (pieces of the song will show up). Congrats for your milestone, honey! I can't wait to be celebrating another one with you.

It's also my entry for kinktober. I can't believe it's already October! And the divider was made by @talesmaniac89 !

Get spooky... Wait, not yet. Get wet now. ;)

Summary: You, Dean, and the beach. Make good use of your last night together.

Warnings: dirty talk, public/beach sex, p in v, unprotected sex, smoking!dean (yep, that's a warning), a bit of angst, fluff, and then porn

Dean Winchester wasn’t good at letting go. Leaving was easy — not having a home since he was four taught him a few tricks — but he was never one to let anything go. There was a big difference between those two easily misplaced definitions.

“What do you mean by last night here?” 

You crossed your arms, watching him shrug with disbelief. He was leaning against the car, cigarette in hand, and moonlight on his face. The close, familiar noises of the river and the dancing leaves were the only sound between you two.

A little of your hair flew in your face as he answered: “You know I move around a lot because of my dad's job.”

“And he just tells you that you're gonna leave in twenty-four hours!? No warning or anything?” Your voice was high pitched. How could John just blatantly do something like that? His son was 21. He deserved more than a simple pack your bags, we’re going in the morning.

“Sometimes the job takes longer; sometimes it doesn't.” He shrugged, not visibly sharing your indignation. It almost seemed like he didn’t care at all. It only made you more irritated. “I mean, we spent a month here. It's a long time for me.”

“Why do you seem so okay with this?”

Dean pursed his lips, avoiding your eyes.  “I'm used to it.”

“Used to leaving people you care about behind?” Your voice weakened a bit. A greyish fog left his lips after another drag. The smoke in the air couldn’t hide his shame, reflected in a skeptical look that lifted your tongue in a silver scream that was directed by and into him. 

He knew you hated it when he smoked near you because of your nasal problems, but the vicious habit eased his anxiety from time to time. Right now was a perfect moment for a little help. The fact that you didn’t even call him out on it was proof that he was fucked up enough to need it, too. 

He sighed. ‘’It’s complicated, Y/N.’’

You shook your head, turning away from him. “You know what? Nevermind. I thought you — We had something that made it at least hard for you to leave.”

“Whoa, whoa. It's not like that. I never said I wanted to hit the road.” Dean threw the cigarette on the grass and stepped on it, grabbing your arm gently in the process. Whatever he did, he couldn’t walk away with you thinking that he felt anything but the four-lettered word he never got to say before you. “I don't have a choice.”

You moved your body to face him again, now closer than before. It was a welcoming gesture as his warmth travels onto you through the cold night. His hand slipped over your arm to find your hand, and you interlocked his fingers to bring him near. “I could talk to my parents.”

“Your parents hate me.” Dean chuckled, wrapping his free arm around you.

“Meeting you with no pants while you tried to sneak in my room wasn't a good impression.” You nodded, a slight grimace on your features. “Neither was the bad boy persona.”

Dean smirked. “You love it.”

“Yes, I do.” You got on your tiptoes quickly only to press a peck to his lips. Dean put his hands on the back of your neck as he tried to deepen the kiss, but, much through his mumbled dissatisfaction, you pulled away. You grinned. “What if you came to live with me when I go to college? It's just a couple of days away.”

He offered you a loving gaze along with a melancholic smile. “You know I can't. My dad and Sammy need me.”

Both of you were quiet after that. You wanted to be mad, to scream your lungs out at him and point fingers until this despair dissolved into a fury, but you knew that wasn't on him. Dean's strong sense of family was one of the things that made you fall for him, after all.

Your frown melted into a content expression. “You know what? We deserve a decent goodbye. Let's go to the beach.”

Dean arched his brows. “We have a lake right over here.”

“A cage will never be a bird's home, and a lake will never be a beach.” You beamed. The Winchester rolled his eyes despite the stubborn smile on his lips.

“Shut up.”

A FEW MILES AWAY

You were in front of his green eyes, getting rid of your clothes between amused glances under full lashes and sweet giggles. The taillights of the car burned bright. He was standing next to the right one when his palm accidentally rubs there. They were hotter than hell, but Dean still granted you a few seconds before pulling away, too mystified by how you looked as if it was the first time he had seen you — or any other woman — naked before.

Something about endings always evokes similar, lingering emotions to their beginnings. 

You nodded at the sea. “Come on, cowboy. The beach is waiting for us. Why are you still wearing clothes?”

Then, you grinned at Dean as if you had invented smiling only to give them to him.

It's cold. He had never been to an actual beach before, and there were no towels in his dad's car — it was definitely going to end up drenched. 

The Winchester took an advance on rationality for once, trying to control his reflexive erection. Your nipples were hard. It was cold. First time on the beach in the car, things could happen, and in John's car nonetheless.

Nipples. Cold night. Beach. Car.

Nipples. Night. Beach.

He was long gone as soon as he placed his eyes on you, wasn’t he? It was so obvious. He wondered if you could tell how totally whipped he was for you.

“Dean?”

“If we end up getting sand or whatever in us, that's on you.” He pointed at you, eyebrows slightly raised as Dean started to get rid of his jacket. 

You winked at him, wearing nothing but a cheeky grin. “Relax, pretty boy. You'll only be getting inside someone tonight.”

He hustled to take off every piece of clothing after that, almost falling in the process. You laughed softly at his behavior, Dean was so adorable in his own butch way. How were you going to spend your days without his dumbassary?

Fortunately, your calamitous thoughts were interrupted by him. Finally throwing his underwear away, he licked his lips as he glanced at you. Dean grabbed the opportunity, approaching your nude figure only for you to run away with a chortle. 

“Y/N!” Dean shouted, your response being an even louder laugh. He tried to run quickly as if he was chasing a monster while you got closer and closer to the ocean. He knew that would be his end if you got there; you were a good swimmer.

That was the boost the hunter needed to go faster. It was still strange; his toes in the sand. Dean had never gone to a beach before which was probably why he was looking around instead of chasing his naked, adventurous girlfriend, but hey. He got to see your ass from behind, and he could almost feel his fingers touch you. If only the Winchester was used to running on the sand — that was difficult as fuck, as if every little grain of sand was glued to his feet. It would be nice if he could sit and enjoy it, but not now. 

The hunter ultimately put his hands on his prey, grabbing your elbow to pull you to him. You were the opposite of scared when your chest shook against his, a clear signal that you were caught. Pearly whites shone brightly under the pale moonlight, cheeks dimpling with joy. If there was one thing Dean could count on, it was the secondhand happiness he could feel simply from being close to you. 

And the hardness you often made present in his cock.

You bit back your smile, eyes focused on him. Dean was always gorgeous, and natural light was really a great look on him.

Yours and Dean's feet were in the sand, that exact spot where the bold, yet shy waves touched the bare sand before going back to the ocean. He pulled you to him, your bare breast pressing against his, while his semi-erect cock touched your belly. A quiet moan left your lips.

“Let's get in the water,” you said in a low tone, grabbing his wrist and guiding Dean into the shallow tidings of the greater sea. The water was a little cold, but nothing near freezing as he would have expected. The ocean slowly covered yours and Dean's bits as you walked deeper, and the Winchester took this opportunity to look around.

The beach was really different from any other thing. The sand was lighter with a bunch of coconut trees that surrounded the place that he was trying really hard not to make a joke of. The water that embraced him was a pleasantly gauzy kind of delicate that would change with a simple sleight of hand. He liked it.

Besides, the moon glistening bright had a certain charm, and the naked woman in front of him was even more stunning. Yeah, he absolutely loved beaches.

“Enjoying the view?” You claimed his attention back to you. Your finger lingered on his tattoo while you looked up to him with a grin. “I said you'd like the beach.”

Dean could look to the moon or the sea, but he preferred your wide eyes. “I think there's something else here that I'll like even more.”

“Yeah? I wonder what it is” Your palm met his chest as if you wanted to memorize what his heart had felt like before he broke it himself.

“That hot ass smoking woman.” His hands held your waist and pulled you to him, water swirling as his hardness was pressed against your stomach. 

“And what would you like to do with her, amor?” Your nickname for him rolled off your tongue, and Dean was about to moan for that. He always got turned on when you spoke another language, especially with that fucking accent.

He didn't want — or have — time to waste. Dean slid into your pussy in a swift movement, groaning in relief when his cock was embraced by your wet walls. You arched your back towards him. 

“Get inside her tight pussy.” He leaned in, kissing your earlobe and starting to move at a quiet but steady pace. “Fuck her really nice and slow, take my time.”

“Wh-What if she wants it faster?” You moaned, both in pleasure and dismay. Dean chuckled — your impatience was so entertaining.

“She will. My girl likes it rough and fast, but, you know, she loves to tease me.” His voice was gruff as usual. You couldn't help but bite your lip to suppress a whine as Dean kissed your jaw. “Might as well tease her too, huh?”

“Dean…”

“You look so good, honey. Getting all worked up for me on the beach, right in the open where anybody could see us.” Dean pulled his face away for a mere moment to observe the surroundings, soon nuzzling back into your neck. “Don't care. They should know you are mine.” He groaned before sucking on the tender place of your shoulder. A disgusting thought of you with someone else invaded his mind. Dean grabbed your hips tighter and thrust into your cunt deeply. “You are mine.”

“I'm yours, Dean. Always,” you assured him. The green-eyed man didn't have time to doubt the blatant lie because you let out a needy cry. Nothing else was worth his attention. “Now man up and fuck me faster.”

“Whoa, sweetheart. Only because of your attitude, you won't get it fast.” Dean gave you a lopsided grin, hips moving painfully slowly. All of his hard dick filled your tight cunt, hitting the G-Spot only for a moment before leaving again. That wasn't what you needed because, for as much as you loved it, you were getting closer to your orgasm with each pound. “You're gonna come like that, feeling all my cock inside your needy pussy slowly, and you'll love every second of it.”

Shamelessly, you whined: “Dean! Amor, please.”

“Not fair, Y/N.” Dean grunted, grabbing your ass. You knew how messed up he got when you begged, like every instinct inside him functioned purely to give you what you wanted while simultaneously getting a boost from his girl craving him. Your pulse was high, bottom lip jutting out. All of your body screamed for more of Dean. You held onto that feeling, speaking through your quick breath:

“Please, amor. Dean, fuck me hard. Fill me up, please. Dean, I need your cum. Please.”

All he could think about now was you, your pussy, and fucking you rough enough to be all but destroyed for any other man but him to touch. He wanted you to be his forever. Dean would be the one leaving, but God, you were the one who came running like some strong wave and got him hungry, broke, and desperate for a bone or offering. He could worship you forever. His hips were suddenly moving by themselves to give you both what you craved so much — each other.

“God, I love your dirty mouth. How you feel around me.” Your moans divulged how good he was taking you. Dean'd trade any good, old rock song for that. He amped up the pace, faster and deeper — just how you liked it. Neither of you cared about the saltwater cloaking you. “You gonna take all of my cum, Y/N? You gonna cum for me? Come all over my cock?”

You were pulling him closer with your small hands, and it meant so much. You were pulling him, pulling on his heart like the marvelous moon pulled on the sea, and both went to their goddesses without any questions.

That full bellied moon, she's shining on Dean when he parted his lips, eyes closed through a scream of your name as you did the same with his. You catch a glimpse of true stars when both of you come. In the barely cold water, your bodies were hotter than the sun behind the moon, tangled together as the ocean embraced you — ultimately calm.

“I love beaches,” he breathed out, exhausted and satisfied for the next few minutes. Dean laid his eyes on you, wiggling his eyebrows with a smirk. You giggled, happiness sparking your body like a firecracker.

“I love you.” You smile at him, all the light-hearted emotions suddenly as bright and high as the moon.

Those words didn't leave him often, but it seems natural now: “I love you, too.”

It's not just typical words between lovers; it's a silent prayer — don't forget about me.

Don't let me go when I'm gone.

I will not let you.

Dean Winchester isn't good at letting go. Yes, he can push things away, but it's gravity: they will always come back. 

Still, he's good at pretending. Half of his job is about it, anyway, and he's good at what he does. When Dean pursed his lips and looked forward in the Impala's passenger seat, not even Sam noticed he was sad, and, if John did, he didn't mention it. He wiped his face and looked away.

If Dean looked into the car's mirror, he could still picture you hugging yourself as he left you on the porch last night. So, the hunter didn’t look, even when an inner and desperate urge begged him to as if the need to hurt himself was as necessary as breathing. He just kept his green eyes on the road, saying nothing like he usually did when things broke — either a toy or himself. He would fix it alone. 

Everyone has had their share of blue hearts, and you know it. A heart isn’t a heart until it’s broken. At least you know you have a working one as you watch the back of the car disappear into the horizon. 

Dean's sweetheart: @akshi8278 (DEAN'S TAGLIST OPEN)

And Dean has left some girls before, but those broken hearted lovers have nothing on him. Not after this. The never mending broken bone.

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Hunters: @demonhunterbarbie @bi-danvers0 @emilyshurley @diabetes-03 (ALL SPN WORKS TAGLIST OPEN)

Kinktober Taglist: NEW&OPEN!

[kyber-kisses]

Oh this was so good! You tied this story together so heckin well! And it flowed so good- like I don’t even have words- just AHHH!

Fiery Bruises//Arsonists Lullaby

Sister Winchester!Oc x Supernatural

summary: Lillian Winchester is the best thing the brothers have ever had, and when she gets hurt, they won’t stop until they can fix her. 

warnings: MAJOR TW: this story has to deal with rape, sexual assault, and the trauma with those instances, please do not read if these are triggering to you. ANGST, sexual assault, cursing (maybe), mentions of murder, supernatural level gore stuff

A/N: This is my entry for @bi-danvers0​ writing contest, I hope y’all enjoy it!

Cold, cold and violated, that’s how she felt. She tightly wrapped her jacket around her body and walked down the streets of Lebanon that were lit up by glowing orange street lamps. She wiped the snot running out from her nose and wiped a tear from her cheek in the process. 

The crisp November air was enough to make anyone freeze, and she could smell the rain that was soon to come. The damp air and the cloudy night sky could tell anyone that though. Shortly after the rain would follow the snow, only making this time of year for her even more unforgettable. 

Lillian Winchester had never felt so helpless in her life.

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