#can we just appreciate the lighting on Deans jacket for a moment

[shishquahcustardtree]

I’m your huckleberry 🤠 😉

[whimsyfinny]

He’s a Winchester

Chapter 4

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: It's been a long time since (Y/n) and Dean's paths have crossed. Last time they saw each other it was ‘98 and they were young and living in the moment. Nine years down the Line, their paths cross again, but (Y/n)s longest kept secret is about to become Deans reality.

Slow burn (ish), mom!reader

Warnings: language, alcohol, lots of feelings, Dean becoming a DILF

Chapter Word Count: 6338

MDNI 18+

A/N: annnnd I feel like we can get that ball rolling! Sorry guys, this should have been posted last night but my kid is sick again (germy little fuckers) so I'll post it now! Let me know if you like Deans POV and if you want more of it! Also do we prefer longer or shorter chapters? Lemme know. As always, it's only proof read by moi and my currently highly cold&flu medicated brain, so let me know of any errors. Also feedback is greatly appreciated!

A/N2: GUYS IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING but PLEEEEASE provide your age if you want to be added to the taglist and it isn’t in your blog. This story is tame now but it’s gonna get spicy, and my blog is strictly 18+. So pleeeeease save be a very long job and help a gal out.

Photos from Pinterest

New Readers Start Here: Chapter 1

Previous Chapter: Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Ice-cream went down a treat and the boys were loving every minute spent in each others presence. We were currently sitting in the window booth at the dessert parlour, my second coffee now clutched between my palms as both Levi and I listened to Dean intently. He was telling us some crazy story from his travels, and I couldn't help but smile as Levi hung off every word, urging Dean to become more animated in his narration. The crisp ring of a phone suddenly cut through the air between us and it took Dean a moment to realise it was his. After retrieving it from his jacket pocket, his eyes widened when he saw the caller ID. He mouthed ‘sorry’ to both of us as he answered the phone.

“Sammy!” he exclaimed before chewing his lip. He turned away and toward the window slightly so he didn't speak over us. Whilst Dean was preoccupied, I took the time to turn to Levi, warmth blooming across my chest at the smile that hadn't left his face.

“Hey there trouble, how are you doing?” I reached over to place my hand over his, tracing my thumb over his knuckles.

“This is the best day ever!” he said,  his voice practically bouncing with joy and excitement as he glanced at his Dean, still on the phone. “Mom, I have a dad!”

I laughed softly, giving his hand a final squeeze before letting go.

“Yes you do!”

“And he’s cool!”

I laughed again. “Very cool!”

We chatted for a few minutes whilst Dean wrapped up his conversation with his brother - Levi trying desperately to contain his enthusiasm every time his dad was mentioned. It didn’t take long for Dean to hang up the phone and turn back to face us, giving Levis’ hair a ruffle as he looked down at him.

“Hey kiddo, that was your uncle Sammy on the phone,” he shifted his gaze to mine for a moment before turning back to his son, “I’ve sorta left him hanging all afternoon, so I’m going to need to spend a few hours with him, ok?” Levi pouted, which triggered Deans’ expression to soften. He looked back at me with almost pleading eyes. “If it’s ok with your mom, I could come around later? Bring a movie and popcorn?”

Dean had barely finished speaking when Levi beamed at me and I laughed at his electric excitement. If he smiled any wider I feared he’d actually hurt himself.

“Of course, that’s fine with me.”

The boys high-fived before I gave Dean a light hearted warning look.

“But the film has to be age appropriate. Absolutely no slasher films.”

Dean held his hands up in mock defence.

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he said with a slight smirk on his lips

With that, he said his goodbyes with a pat on Levis’ shoulder and the squeeze of my hand before slipping out of the booth and out of the parlour.

Deans POV

“You have a son?!”

Sam looked just as shocked as I had felt less than twelve hours ago, his eyes wide and mouth agape.

“Yeah,” I grinned at him, “crazy, huh?”

Sam opened and closed his mouth a few times, almost getting words out before changing his mind at the last minute in favour of a different sentence. 

“Dean… You’re a dad,” he smiled in disbelief, looking over at me.

“Yeah,” I said again, feeling that goofy-ass grin reappear on my face, “it’s awesome. He’s awesome. I can’t wait for you to meet him, Sammy. He's so fucking cool.” 

“I bet he is.”

We sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, my mind creating and then recreating hundreds of new scenarios I’d never thought I’d ever imagine. That I never thought I’d even get the chance to experience. I’m a hunter. I live a wild, dangerous, unpredictable life. But I have a son. A reason to live; to take care and caution for. 

“Hey Dean…” Sams’ soft voice derailed my train of thought.

“Hmm?”

“How do you know (Y/n) is telling the truth? That this kid is definitely yours, and she’s not just messing with your head? I don’t mean to sound horrible Dean, but your taste in women can be-”

“(Y/n) can be trusted,” I cut him off, his words souring my mood slightly. I know he’s only looking out for me, but he’s always the first to question when something seems too good to be true. “You sure?”

“Yeah…” I held his gaze for a few seconds before sighing, deciding to explain further when his stare didn't let up. “We were together for almost a year. She was different. She never judged, or got angry when I was a mess after a hunt. She knows what I - what we - do for a living, and she never freaked out over it, or tried to break things off. She would just say, ‘ok, just stay safe out there’, and carry on,” I paused, the memories of our time together replaying in my mind like an old movie. I could see Sam nodding at my words, listening. So I continued. “(Y/n) had just turned eighteen when we met. I took her to prom,” I smiled at the memory, remembering the tremble in my hands as I’d driven to her parents house to pick her up. I’d never felt so nervous around a girl before, desperately trying to get a grip on my nerves the whole drive there.

“Prom?” Sam smirked, a twinkle in his eye, “You took her to prom?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“How have I never heard about this? Did dad know?”

I chewed my bottom lip, feeling the embarrassment heat my skin a little.

“Yeah, dad knew. He never met her, but he still teased me for weeks. You never knew because I never brought her ‘round, and you were determined to get into Stanford. I stayed away a lot back then, trying to work some cases on my own, to get some more experience. But… (Y/n) turned out to be a huge distraction,” we both laughed, the sound light and easy as it filled the car. I reached into my jacket and pulled out my wallet, flicking through the various cards and slips of paper until I pulled out an old, folded photograph. I passed it to Sam and he eyed it before taking it carefully and unfolded it, smoothing out the creases before studying the image. The slight furrow between his brows quickly disappeared as he looked down, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well I’ll be damned, you really did go to prom.”

He looked it over for a few more moments, taking in every detail before passing it back to me. It had been a while since I’d looked at the image, finding it hard in the past to look at (Y/n)s face and remember that I’d left her behind. But now… now I could stare at this photo all day and feel nothing but warmth. I looked down at the decade old picture, seeing the candid moment captured in time. She had her arms draped over my shoulders, her face in a contented smile as I leant in for a kiss. Her lipstick was slightly smudged and my jacket was nowhere to be seen - small signs of a night enjoyed. I remember her friend snapping the picture before running off with a giggle, passing the developed image to (Y/n) a few weeks later. It was only a few days after that I told her I was leaving, and she’d gifted it to me with a sad smile and lingering kiss. I never normally found goodbyes difficult as they were part of the job. I'd gotten used to them. But saying goodbye to her had been one of the hardest things I'd ever had to do. The promise of staying in touch didn't last as long as we’d both hoped - dad somehow commondering my phone and returning it to factory settings without telling me. I guess it was around that time she found out she was pregnant. 

The wince struck my face like a bolt of lightning, guilt and regret hitting like ice in my chest. The years she'd spent raising our kid on her own, working at the local garage in between school runs, Motocross trips and simple survival - it had me feeling nauseous. I should have been there. I've missed so much of Levi's life - of a life I could've had with (Y/n), as a family. My family. I mean fuck, I missed the birth of my son - I never got to hold him as a baby. I made him wait eight years for a hug. I made (Y/n) wait even longer, leaving her with the weight of the world on her shoulders.

Crossing my arms over the steering wheel, I buried my head between them, praying that the tight knot in the pit of my stomach would disappear.

“You ok man?” Sam asked, twisting further in his seat to face me, the well-maintained leather creaking under his weight. I raised my head.

“Yeah… and no. I feel so, so good, like I'm on top of the fucking world, but…”

“But?”

“Do you think she hates me? Resents me? For falling off the face of the earth and making her do all of this alone?”

Sam smiled, a small laugh on his breath as he leant back against the passenger side door.

“Are you serious?”

I shot him an incredulous look.

“Dude…” he started, “(Y/n) doesn't hate you. She will obviously have feelings on the matter, but I think what she's feeling right now is relief, knowing that you're here now.”

I took a deep breath.

“Do you really think so?”

“Dean, I don't think things would have gone as smoothly as you described if she held any animosity towards you. She let you take Levi for ice-cream straight after meeting him. I think that's a good sign.”

I smiled, remembering my afternoon.

“Yeah, she's letting me go over to theirs tonight for a movie.”

“I don't think she'd be letting you into her house if she hated you. I mean, in the thirty seconds I'd met her earlier, she was all kind smiles and soft edges. Definitely not giving off ‘mean vibes’. Plus…” Sam smirked slightly, drumming his fingers on the back of the seat.

“Plus?” I raised an eyebrow, turning towards him.

“There's a chance she feels the same way you feel about her. That hug you shared said a lot.”

I scoffed slightly, finding his words ludicrous.

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Dude, you've kept her picture in your wallet for nearly a decade. She was the only long relationship that I've ever known you to have, and you're worried if she hates you.”

“And?”

“When have you ever given a shit about anyone's opinion but mine and dad's?” 

His words stopped my racing mind in its tracks, making me think for a moment. My heart suddenly picked up speed, finding it hard to ignore the truth in Sam's words.

“I mean, we were great back then, but she's a totally different person now. She had to grow up fast - there's no way she's gonna put up with my shit now,” I gnawed on my bottom lip, turning to look out of the front windscreen at all of the other parked cars. “I mean, what about hunting? We have jobs to do, I can't just bail on people - bail on you. (Y/n) Doesn't need that sort of chaos in her life, not now that she's got Levi. And I won't bring the hunters life anywhere near him. Fuck, Sammy, what am I going to do? I can't stick around, but I can't leave. FUCK.”

“Dean.”

“Why does this have to be so complicated?” 

“Dean.”

“I'm going to end up ruining their lives and-”

“DEAN.”

“What?!”

“Just shut up. Do you hear yourself? You're overthinking shit that doesn't matter right now.”

His abrupt words ceased the hurricane in my brain, slowing both my thoughts and my rapid pulse. I even released the steering wheel from my white-knuckled grip. I replied to him, my voice slower and less panicked.

“But it's important, I need to figure it out.”

“It is. And you can - with (Y/n). You don't have to figure all of this out by yourself, Dean. You can make those decisions together. You guys are a team now, so you can't go off and decide these things on your own.”

I found myself nodding slowly, letting his words sink in. Taking a deep breath I leant back in my seat and ran my hands through my hair before dragging them over my face. I thought for a moment; calmer, quieter thoughts this time as I mulled over what Sam had said. He was right. I needed to talk to (Y/n) before making any decisions. Any stupid decisions that I know she would prevent me from making - like she used to. I huffed out a long held breath, twisting in my seat to face my younger - wiser - brother.

“Yeah, you're right. Look, I'm sorry for freakin’ out, I don't mean to… it's just- this is crazy. I mean Sam, I have a kid. ME. Of all people.”

Sam's eyes softened, his puppy-dog glimmer returning with a small smile. 

“It's so crazy. I mean I never thought I'd get to be an uncle! But Dean… this is something good. All the shit we've seen, that we've dealt with and put up with - you especially - you deserve this. Embrace the shit out of this.”

I returned his smile in kind, a warm, fuzzy feeling I wasn't used to filling every fibre in my body.

“Yeah, I will.”

(Y/n)’s POV

Evening was drawing in, the sun starting to set as it neared 6:30 pm. Levi was busy tidying his room as I cleaned the kitchen, the small room bathed in a pink and orange glow. The sunset was calming as night slowly crept closer, the feeling of fall crisp in the air as the sun started to lower in the sky. As I dried the final dish from dinner and returned it to the cupboard I heard a rap at the door. I'd barely acknowledged it when Levi's footsteps came thundering down the stairs.

“Dad's here!” his giddy exclamation bouncing off the walls and bringing a smile to my lips.

“Well, go and let him in then!”

He practically leapt over to the door and unlocked it, swinging it open just as I stepped around the corner. There Dean stood with a happy smile and clean shirt, leaning lazily on the doorframe. His eyes lit up as soon as he spotted Levi.

“Hey there kiddo!” Dean ruffled his sons hair.

“Hey dad! What movie are we watching?”

Dean laughed.

“Why don't you let me come in first, huh? I need to say ‘hi’ to your mom.” 

At the mention of me his eyes flicked up to meet mine, the sudden connection catching me off guard as his grin twitched upwards slightly.

Levi stepped back and let Dean in. It was a very rare occurrence for us to have a man in the house, and I couldn't stop the small flutter in my chest at the sight of Dean standing in my small living room. He dominated the space, his rugged exterior a little out of place in our domestic setting. Levi shuffled off to sit on the couch whilst Dean took a few slow steps over to me, his long legs swallowing the distance. 

“Hey,” his voice was low and soft, his smile not leaving his lips.

“Hey,” I smiled back, pulling my soft cardigan around me. I took a step back into the kitchen, Dean following suit. “Coffee?”

“Coffee sounds great,” the grocery bag he'd been carrying was placed on the kitchen counter as I filled the coffee machine with water. Watching out of the corner of my eye, Dean observed his surroundings, looking at where we lived - where his son grew up.

“Nice house,” the low softness of his voice was still present.

“Thanks - I'll give you the grand tour later if you like?” I turned the machine on and spun to face him, and I watched as he leant comfortably against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Yeah,” he said, “I'd like that.”

There was a pause in the conversation as we took a moment to look at each other. Really look, as it felt like the whirlwind afternoon we’d had took away our ability to really see each other. I'd been aware of his unchanging fashion and his handsome face, yet I'd forgotten about the soft sun-kissed freckles that dotted his nose, now fading as fall dawned and the sun weakened. I let myself reminisce over those forest-green eyes, how the swirls of jade and golden hazel had entranced me all those years ago. Given the chance, they'd succeed again. His hair was the same soft brown, memories of combing my fingers through those short strands as he slept quickly resurfacing. And those lips. I daren't look at them for the fear of staring too long and getting caught, yet the thought of that plushness against my own mouth had my own lips tingling. I tried my best to hold his gaze and when my eyes slipped to his mouth for a split second, I knew he'd seen it. 

He reached out and took my hand, his rough palms gliding gently over my soft skin and squeezing gently.

“I know I said it earlier, but it's really good to see you, (Y/n).” Deans voice stayed low, but it harboured a gravelly undertone that told me that maybe, just maybe he wanted to say something else - something more. When he didn't, I squeezed his hand back, fighting the instinct to lace my fingers with his like I used to. Like when we used to lay under the stars in the field behind my parents house and talk for hours about everything and nothing all at once. Like when he'd lay me down in the backseat of his car and make love to me in the ethereal glow of the moonlight.

“You too Dean,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. With a final smile I released his hand, my own instantly feeling cold. The bubble of warmth and familiarity surrounding us slowly dissolved, Dean eventually clearing his throat and standing up straight. He looked at me again, this time without the nostalgia in his eyes.

“Hey uh… I don't suppose you'd be ok with Sammy coming by? It's just he really wants to meet Levi and I feel bad for ditching him earlier for hours. Plus he-”

“Dean it's more than ok,” I chuckled at his pleading and his desperation for justification. “Sam is more than welcome to join us tonight.”

A tension that I hadn't noticed before was quickly released from his shoulders.

“Are you really sure? I feel like-”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Be quiet. I would love for Sam to meet Levi.”

He grinned a little at my quiet assertiveness, looking down at his boots.

“Ok, well thanks again though sweetheart. He would've suffered a fun packed night of research and cheap beer in the motel room otherwise,” his teeth flashed with his humorous grin. I returned it before a thought crossed my mind, my eyebrows knitting together.

“Wait, are you guys staying in that seedy motel across town? The one where the janitor looks like a serial killer?”

“Yeah, to be honest it's not the worst place we've stayed in. The Dahmer look-alike creeps me the hell out though.” 

I pondered for a moment, taking a lot less time than I should've before opening my mouth.

“Do you… do you guys want to stay here? I mean I have a couch and a spare camp bed. It's not much but at least you won't get murdered in your sleep. Plus I have unlimited coffee and bacon for breakfast.” 

I almost cringed as the words left my mouth, kicking myself for practically trying to convince him to stay. Dean looked a little stunned at the proposal, taking slightly longer than I would've hoped to make a decision. I could've smacked myself. “I'm sorry, that's probably the last thing you want, being surrounded by boring domestic life when you have a job to do. Don't worry about it, forget I said any-”

“That would be nice.”

“Wait, what?” 

“It would be nice to stay here. With both of you. I'd like that.” 

The relief exited my body in a poorly concealed exhale.

“Do you need to run it past Sam first?”

He shook his head.

“Nah, to be honest I think Dahmer 2.0 freaked him out the most, he'll be happy to get away.”

It took all of about half an hour for Dean to jump back in the car, drive across town to the motel, pack their things and drive back home. When he knocked on the door a second time, he had Sam on his heels looking a mixture of elated to be here and really don't want to intrude. Levi was ecstatic to discover he had an uncle as well as a dad, and I was almost grateful for the attention to be directed away from myself for once. It's always been me and him against the world, but being a single mom to a pocket tornado was hard fucking work, and it was a breath of fresh air to be able to sit down on my own couch and drink my coffee in peace. 

Dean had insisted on watching Mothra Vs Godzilla despite Levi's hesitation to watch such an old film. Dean won him over eventually with promises of ‘pop culture enlightenment’ and he now sat sandwiched between his two new favourite people - dad and uncle Sammy. The amber glow from the sunset slowly faded to indigo shadows, the only light now in the living room was from the TV and a few scented candles dotted around us. Around an hour into the film I looked over and saw Levi's head resting on Deans shoulder, eyes closed and chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths. Dean happened to glance up and our eyes locked, an adoring smile on Deans’ face as he looked between me and his soundly sleeping son. So as not to wake him, I pointed to Levi then pointed to the stairs, gesturing to Dean to carry him up to his room. He caught on to what I was asking of him and he manoeuvred his large arms under Levis shoulders and legs, lifting him with an ease I was slightly envious of. Levi was tall, much like his father and uncle, and with being tall came the title ‘big for his age’. He’d reached that point now where I was unable to lift him more than a few centimetres off the floor, and the thought sent an unusual pang of emotion through my chest. Which emotion, I wasn’t sure… Perhaps it was longing? Longing for the clock to rewind back to when he was just a few years old and I could still carry him everywhere on my hip. Maybe it was dread, knowing that he’s growing up so fast and I feel as though the last nine years have passed by in a blur, despite the fact that I’ve barely been able to keep my head above water. Or maybe, just maybe, it was simply the sight of a man such as Dean Winchester looking down at his own child in his arms with such a look of total, unfaltering adoration that my heart was swelling beyond its usual capacity for such affection.

I stood with Dean and headed up the stairs in front of him, leading the way. There were only three doors to choose from once you reached the top of the stairs; my room, the bathroom, and Levis room. And Levis room wasn’t hard to miss, with its poster of ‘types of classic cars’ pinned to his door along with a makeshift name sign that we made together when he was around five. I pushed the handle and opened the door, slipping in first so I could throw the covers back on his bed. It was a swift ordeal after Dean laid him on the soft mattress and I tucked the covers around him. We both left the room and I closed the door quietly behind me, both of us heading back downstairs quickly so as to not risk waking the sleeping kid. 

“Well, that is much easier with two people,” I said with a chuckle on my breath as I descended the last few stairs. Before I gave Dean a chance to say anything in response, I stepped into the kitchen, not wanting his reply to make that heavy pang appear in my chest again. “Beer?” I asked, opening the fridge and retrieving a cold bottle.

“Absolutely,” he stepped over to me with his hands buried in the pockets of his jeans, a lazy smile on his lips. I handed him two bottles, knowing he’d give one to Sam. Who, of which, was still sitting on the couch watching the movie. 

“So,” I started, looking up at Dean as we slowly made our way back to the living room, “how do you boys normally spend your evenings?” I tried my best to hide my almost playful smirk behind a swig of my beer. 

“Now ain’t that a question,” his expression mirrored mine as we both slumped down onto the couch again, much closer together this time now that Levi was counting sheep. Dean handed his brother a beer, barely looking at him as his eyes never left mine. “Oh, you know, the usual,” he started, leaning back against the plush cushions, one arm slung over the back rest and tauntingly close to my shoulders. 

“Oh? Feel free to enlighten me.”

“Well, it’s normally spent working on a case, so… researching lore, or on the road, or burning shit that I really hate having to burn. Maybe we’ll go out for drinks, but uh, that’s a rare occurrence.”

I laughed a dry laugh, raising my bottle.

“Amen to that, I’ve not been out for drinks in ages.  Not proper ones, at least.”

Dean looked away from me and down at his bottle.

“Huh...”

“What?” I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, just… I would’ve thought you’d be going on dates and getting taken out for a good time. Like, a lot. ”

I couldn’t help but scoff at his comment.

“Dates these days are few and far between. And good dates are practically non-existent,” I paused, debating giving Dean the gory details before my mouth started working of its own accord. “I got taken out the other day by a guy who drinks kale smoothies and lives in boat shoes… tried to convince me that the church he belongs to is totally not a cult. I mean, he paid membership fees. And signed an NDA. Who does that?” 

Dean held my gaze, as though searching for something that he didn’t even know he was searching for.

“You chose to see a guy like that? Dear God, your taste has changed,” his words were meant to be humorous but there was a subtle bite to them. Or maybe I'd imagined it?

I shook my head.

“No way, he was definitely not my type. It was a blind date, and if it wasn’t a blind date, it wouldn’t have happened.”

We both took a swig of our beer.

“I’m surprised,” he said suddenly, “I would’ve thought a girl like you would’ve been swept off her feet by now.”

“Oh, I was,” my words spilled out before I could stop them, “but that was nine years ago and I’m pretty sure he’s moved on.”

It took a breath of silence between us and a pitiful smile from me for Dean to catch on to what I’d said, his eyes widening slightly. He didn’t get much opportunity to reply, however, as Sam stood quickly. I’d almost forgotten he was there, but I'm glad he was as it drew Deans attention away from the red heat rising to my cheeks.

“Hey, uhhh, I’m just going to run to the car and grab our stuff,” he said, jabbing his thumb towards the front door. “(Y/n), when I come back in would it be ok if I used your dinner table to do some research?”

I nodded before speaking again.

“Yeah of course, be my guest. But isn’t it a little late to start doing all that work?”

He flashed a small, almost knowing smile to both myself and Dean.

“Not for us it isn’t. Plus I just… I just really like lore.”

Dean practically spat his beer back into his bottle.

“Really?” he asked his brother with a quizzical expression, “that’s the excuse you’re going for?”

Sam shrugged.

“No excuse. I’m just dedicated to uhhhh, to learning about… ghosts. It’s a real passion.”

“Aw geez,” Dean shook his head.

“Am I missing something here?” I spoke up finally, shooting them both questioning looks.

“Nope, just my little brother is being an idiot.”

Sam just shrugged, oozing with amusement before leaving out the front door to the car.

I blinked away the confusion, however my face must've given away the fact that I still had no clue what had just occurred between the two brothers, because Dean came to my rescue.

“Don't overthink it sweetheart, Sam's just being a pain in my ass.” 

“I don't think I'm ever going to understand the secret handshake language you guys have. I feel like you have to be part of the ‘Winchester Boy Scouts’ to get the handbook for that one.” 

Dean laughed, the sound pleasant and carefree as he drained the last few drops of beer from his bottle.

“Sam's definitely more of a boy scout than I am.”

“Whatever you say, Winchester.” 

He leant forward and placed his empty bottle on the coffee table before turning in his seat so he faced me more.

“So, apart from childcare and Scientology weirdos, what else have you been up to?” 

I couldn't stop the amusement from taking over my face at Dean's question.

“You know, you seem very interested in my life for someone who probably forgot I even existed until this morning.”

 Deans expression fell slightly and he looked away, like I’d struck a nerve. When he looked up again, there was something simmering in his gaze, and I wasn't sure if it was pain, regret, guilt, or something else entirely. When he spoke, his voice was thick and low.

“I never forgot about you. Not once.” 

My breath caught in my throat and my heart stumbled. When I opened my mouth to say, me neither, he carried on before I could get the words out.

“I tried calling in on you once.”

“You- you did?”

He nodded, slowly.

“I was near your parents' place about three years ago and I stopped by, hoping to see you again. Get your phone number and maybe stay in touch - properly this time. But when I got there, your parents didn't look happy to see me,” an almost pained laugh spilled from his throat. “Now I get why.” 

I reached out, placing my hand reassuringly on his arm. My own emotions started to spiral. Slowly at first, a combination of pure relief that Dean never forgot. He even remembered where my parents lived, which coloured me very impressed. The other emotion, which was now growing in the pit of my stomach, bubbling and burning was anger. Rage. My parents knew that Dean was Levi's father the moment I fell pregnant, and it was no secret that they held a strong dislike for him, yet I never pinned them petty enough to let their animosity towards him interfere with the chance to set things right. For their grandson to know his father, and maybe, just maybe, act like the family they so desperately wanted their daughter to have. The saddest part was that, even though I was undeniably furious with them, I wasn't surprised.

“Dean, I'm so sorry, they never told-” 

“Don't apologise for them, (Y/n). I knew from the moment I saw you today that they never passed on the message.” 

My reply was quiet, the hot fury quickly simmering down to cold disbelief towards my own family.

“You're right, they didn't.”

“They told me that you'd moved on. That you had a good job and a husband, and that… and that you resented me for leaving.”

“Fuck. Dean, none of that is true. I have a mediocre job at best, I'm certainly not married - never have been and probably never will. And Dean,” I moved my hand from his arm and slipped it into his warm palm, “I do not resent you.” I offered him a reassuring smile which he returned, tension quickly leaving his shoulders. Squeezing his hand, I continued, “If anything, I should say thank you.”

“Why would you thank me?” He looked puzzled.

“Because you've taken this surprisingly well for a man of your… calibre.”

He looked as though he didn't know whether insulted or flattered.

“Of my calibre?” He repeated, learning back slightly.

“Well, yeah. In just shy of twelve hours you found out you had a son with someone you've not spoken to in almost a decade, you met your son, took him from Motocross straight to get ice-cream, then brought a movie and popcorn around that very same evening. For someone with an entire armoury in the trunk of their car, I didn't expect… I didn't expect this… I didn't expect you.”

“Didn't expect me?”

I smiled, that warmth appearing in my chest again.

“You're a natural father, Dean. You've made everything easy today, and I'm grateful. So fucking grateful, because over the years I've spent near enough every night laying awake, imaging Levi finally meeting you. And I braced myself for every reaction - every scenario - that you could've thrown our way. So, thank you. I mean it. And thank you for believing me.”

“Believing you?” 

“Yeah, for believing me when I said he was yours. I think most guys would've demanded a paternity test, especially after all this time,” I couldn't stop myself from picking the sleeve of my cardigan, anxiety creeping in at the thought that he still might ask for one. However, Dean simply shook his head. 

“I trust you, (Y/n). I know you're not the sort of person to lie about things like that, so I believe you. Plus…” his eyes shone with something akin to pride, “ you can't tell me that he's not mine. That's a Winchester attitude through and through.” 

We shared a laugh. A light, easy laugh that had me looking at him in that overly familiar way. In the same way that would make my heart skip beats in my chest. I simultaneously felt like I knew him like I used to - that we still had that connection, that bond that made it so easy to be around each other. To feel for each other. On the other hand, we’d spent so much time apart, living completely different lives and getting by in such different ways. He'd had adventures, experiences that I would probably never be able to comprehend, and through all of that I'd been here; living in a two bedroom house in a quiet cul-de-sac in a town far too similar to Stars Hollow than I'd like to admit. I went to work, did school runs, went grocery shopping and grabbed coffee with my best friend in the same fucking café practically every day. And last I remembered, Dean was balls deep in credit card fraud. I wanted to make this work so fucking desperately that it almost hurt. I wanted Levi to have his dad around, to have those experiences boys thrive off with their fathers. I don't expect Dean and I will ever live under the same roof or even be together again, but I'm pretty damn sure that we can be friends, and that is something that would rock Levi's world.

The sound of the door opening and closing startled me from my thoughts as Sam let himself back into the house, sliding the locks and chains into place before turning to face us. He carried two duffle bags, dropping one beside the couch and taking one with him to the table, placing it down carefully so as not to make too much noise. He unzipped it and pulled out a laptop and a small stack of books, holding them up for us to see, like a prize.

“I just… fucking love ghosts,” his tone was unconvincing yet he grinned like he knew something we didn't before taking a seat and getting to work. Dean and I shared a look before erupting into laughter, trying painstakingly hard to keep quiet.

“Is your brother from a different planet? Wait no, scratch that, you're both equally as strange as each other. Earthlings or not, you're certainly cut from the same cloth.”

Dean feigned hurt with a hand on his chest yet the grin never left his lips. He muttered a few things about Sam picking his moments before standing from the couch, jabbing his thumb towards the kitchen green eyes on mine.

“Another beer?”

I felt my grin stretch further across my face, my heart doing a little dance at the way he looked down at me, like he just wanted to sit and talk about everything and nothing all at once - just like we used to. I nodded, trying not to let the way the soft glow from the candles in the room made him look like ‘a night well spent’. 

“Yeah, I'd love another beer.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 5

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[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Breaking

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Very little plot to the porn here. Rough, intense sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving) dirty talk, it's all Yvette's fault.

(x)

Summary: Y/N and Dean play some pool; who's the winner?

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Smut - this is just all smut. Very little plot to the porn here. Rough, intense sex, unprotected p in v, oral (f receiving) dirty talk, it's all Yvette's fault.

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N

Word Count: 2,510

A/N: @justagirlinafandomworld shared the pic above, and it got me immediately thinking of Dean in his fed suit, and all the filthy thoughts began swirling.

So, here ya go - enjoy the dirtiness! ����

The beautiful dividers below at the bottom were created by @talesmaniac89.

Main Masterlist || Tag Lists

“What are we doing here, Winchester?” Y/N asked once again as they stepped through the thick wooden door that led them back into the bar they’d been in earlier in the day.

Dean flicked the lights on, casting a pale bluish tint over the room from the neon sign that sputtered to life over the bar. 

“I don’t get it." Y/N exclaimed, clearly confused. "Did Warren say there was still a problem? Is the ghost back somehow? Did he see something?”

Dean shook his head as he locked the bar door behind himself, and wandered up the three stairs leading to the pool tables. 

“Nope. He’s good, very grateful that he can reopen the bar tomorrow without fear of his patrons being taken out by a homicidal ghost.”

Y/N threw her hands up with an exasperated laugh. “Then I’m gonna ask for the fourth time now, why are we back here?”

Dean started pulling the pool balls up out of the pockets around the table, and rolling them onto the red felt top. 

“I just asked Warren if we could borrow the bar for tonight. Thought maybe we could have a few drinks…” 

He gathered all the balls together at the end of the table, shaping them into a triangle with his arms before putting the rack around them and sliding them into place. “...and I thought maybe I could kick your ass in a couple games of pool.”

Y/N cocked an eyebrow at him. “K, first of all - you wish. Secondly, it’s nearly two in the morning, we are still dressed like feds, and we have a very long drive ahead of us tomorrow. But you have a sudden need to play pool in an empty, recently de-ghosted bar?”

Dean shrugged out of his dark gray suit jacket and tossed it onto one of the wooden chairs nearby. “Yeah, pretty much.” He threw her a challenging look. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? ‘Fraid you’re gonna lose?”

She rolled her eyes and walked slowly up the steps to the pool table. “Not likely, Winchester.”

Dean handed her a pool cue and a wicked grin curved his lips as she took it. “I’ll even let you break, give you a chance to play a bit before I run the table.”

"Yeah right." Y/N scoffed as she grabbed the stick and waved Dean away. “Outta the way, buddy. No crowding my shots.”

They played for the next hour or so, and found that they were very evenly matched. Whoever broke tended to run the table and it was rare that the other person even got a chance to play. 

Neither of them were really playing fair, both determined to distract the other. Y/N was amazed that she was able to play at all with Dean pulling out all the stops in order to blow her concentration. 

He was unbelievably sexy in his crisp white button down and clinging gray dress pants.  His shirt sleeves were rolled up to his elbows allowing her to appreciate the way the long, corded muscles in his forearms rippled as he held the cue in place and then drove it home, sinking ball after ball. His strong, thick fingers wrapped around the end of the stick, guiding the shot, and all Y/N could think about in those moments was how incredible those massive hands and hard fingers would feel pressed into her skin.

Not to be outdone, she made sure she was giving as good as she was getting. She innocently ran her hand down his arm as she moved past him. And while he was lining up the eight ball for the far corner pocket, she was on the other end of the table and made sure to lean forward and put her elbows down, giving him a perfect view down the front of her blouse to the top of her lacy white bra. He completely shanked the shot and the cue ball veered off to give her a clear line of sight to push the eight ball into the side pocket.

At the end of four games they were tied at two apiece. Y/N walked around the side of the table to stand close to him. She grinned up at him. “Whaddya say, Winchester? Tie breaker?”

Dean smiled down at her, a friendly challenge in his his expression. But she swallowed at the look of heat that also lingered in his eyes. “Wanna make this interesting?”

She laughed softly and swayed toward him a little. “Haven’t you been interested so far?” 

He licked his lips and her gaze fell, irresistibly, to his mouth. He shrugged. “I just thought maybe we could use this chance to finally get it out in the open.”

She frowned. “Get what into the open?”

“How much you want me.”

Y/N was silent for a moment before forcing a laugh and sputtering at him. “You’ve sure got a shit ton of hubris, buddy, if you think -”

“And how fucking desperate I am for you.” Dean cut in, his voice low and full of grit.

Y/N was silenced and it seemed as though they stared into each other for an eternity, the tension growing thick and palpable between them.

Y/N shook her head.  “I thought we agreed not to bring sex into this.”

“Into what?”

“Into this, us, our friendship.”

Dean raised an eyebrow. “I definitely don’t remember agreeing to that.”

Y/N bit into her bottom lip, trying to get her body under control while it was screaming a resounding yes, desperately trying to make her stop talking.

Her voice was soft. “It was kind of a silent agreement, I thought, because we know just how dangerous our lives are, because of how complicated everything already is, and because the last thing we need is to possibly fuck up our really good thing by sleeping together.”

Dean stepped closer to her, crowding her back, so her ass colided with the table. “I have no intention of sleeping, and if we had some kind of silent contract?...”

He brought his hands up to grip the sides of her pale pink blouse. “...how about we break it?” With those words he ripped open her shirt, tearing the fabric and scattering buttons across the floor.

Y/N gasped and then stopped breathing as he dragged his blunt fingernails down the valley between her breasts and over her exposed belly, raising goosebumps in his wake. His other hand found the zipper at the side of her pencil skirt and slowly slid it down, allowing the skirt to fall and pool at her feet.

He took a half step back so he could see all of her. “Fuck, Y/N. Say we can break it, say you want me as bad as I want you.” 

He stepped back close as he slid his hand over her satin-clad pussy, groaning at the hot, wet mess he found there. “Christ, baby, let’s break it.”

Y/N moaned deeply at the feel of his middle finger rubbing at her clit through her soaked panties. “Fuck it. Yes, Dean, god, fucking break me.”

Dean barely let the last word out of her mouth before he crashed his mouth to hers, and slipped his hands around to her back so he could unhook her bra. He wrenched it from her body and tossed it across the room. He tore his mouth away from hers so that he could slide his lips down her trembling body.

He captured her nipple between his teeth and tugged. Y/N plunged her hands into his hair as he continued to lick and nip at her skin. As he flicked the tip of his tongue back and forth against the puckered bud he pushed her panties down over her hips. They fell on top of her skirt and she stepped out of both, kicking them aside. 

Dean grabbed hold of her waist and lifted her up onto the pool table. The soft red felt rubbed deliciously against her bare skin as he pushed her back to lay across it. He pushed her knees up towards her head, before pressing them wide open, his eyes glittering at the feast in front of him. 

He turned his head so he could press his lips against her ankle, holding on to her spiky high heel to guide her foot to his mouth. Her heels were strappy and black and Dean twisted his tongue between the straps and then up her calf before turning to her other foot and doing the same. 

As he reached her knee, he began to nibble and lick his way up her inner thigh. When he reached the apex, he slid his hands under her hips and lifted her so that he could easily bury his face in her cunt and begin feasting. His mouth was luscious and felt like absolute sin as he sucked and bit and soothed her overheated pussy. 

She was moaning and writhing within minutes, yanking on his hair and staring feverishly at the look of rapture on his face as he consumed her. As he brought her to the peak, he pushed her over the edge by moaning deeply, harshly, the vibrations against her clit causing her to scream and slam her knees closed around Dean’s head. She pressed her tiptoes against the pool table as her hips spasmed, and her cunt rocked against Dean's mouth.

As she came down she was barely aware of being manhandled off the table to stand on trembling legs for a moment before Dean spun her around and bent her over the table. She laid her hands flat, her elbows bent as Dean pushed his big palm between her shoulder blades and kept her pinned there. 

She heard his belt buckle and felt the back of his hand rub against her cunt as he opened his belt and pulled down his zipper. Seconds later she heard a thick, squelching sound and cried out at the feeling of being stuffed full, as Dean drove deep and hard into her soaked pussy.

He stayed still for a minute, the wide head of his cock pressed so deep, she could feel him tight against her cervix. She tried to wiggle her ass against him, tried to move her hips to bring about the delicious friction she was craving from him, but he wouldn’t have it. The fingers on his right hand dug into her hip and held her fast. 

“Please, Dean.” She begged. “I need you, I need you so bad, fuck me, break me, I need to feel you so deep, so hard.” Her lust was making her crazy and she reached her arm back towards him, trying to feel some part of him, trying to urge him on.

Dean grabbed hold of her elbow as she reached back, and then took hold of the other one, bringing them together behind her. He folded them over the middle of her back and crushed them between their bodies as his weight held her down against the felt table top, pulling out and slamming back into her body. 

“Unf! Fuck Y/N, you’re so fucking tight, so sweet, just like I knew you’d be.” 

He pulled out of her body, and then looked down at where the head of his cock was spreading her open again. “Fucking take it, every fucking inch, I know you can do it baby.” He growled at her before he slammed deep and hard again, rocking her against the table so hard, she knew the front of her thighs would be bruised from the hard wood. 

It felt like an invasion, in the best possible sense, as though he was ripping her apart, filling her up so tight that he was leaving no room for any man to ever satisfy her again.

Yet no matter how hard and how fast, and how deep he filled her, she needed more, needed him to rearrange her insides, leave every piece of himself with her, fill her so full with his seed that she’d feel him dripping out of her for days.

“Fuck me apart, Dean. Fuck me so I can’t walk, cant move without feeling you.”

She cried out as he rocketed against her cervix so hard it hurt, but so good. “Fucking, break me, break me.” She panted against the red felt of the pool table.

Dean let go of her forearms and grabbed hold of her upper arms so he could piston his hips into her while using all his strength to slam her back against him, getting miraculously deeper and pounding into her like a machine, hammering against her until she screamed her release and went limp beneath him.

He rammed into her exhausted, boneless body a few more times, taking extreme pleasure in just how fucked out she was, how she was barely able to whimper as he finally exploded into her body with a roar.

He fell across her back, and breathed hot and damp against her neck, both of them silent for a few minutes. Finally he pulled out of her, his spent cock still twitching slightly at the sight of Y/N bent over and fucked so good, his cum trickling out of her cunt to run slick and shiny down her thighs.

He tucked himself back into his pants, realizing he’d never even undressed. “Stay there a minute, sweetheart.” He told Y/N and chuckled when all she could offer in response was a slight moan.

He ran behind the bar and grabbed a clean rag, wet it in the sink there, and then grabbed a couple of beers too. When he got back to her he used the clean cool cloth to wipe up the sticky mess on her skin and then scooped up her unresisting form and carried her over to the little, leather couch that sat in the corner of the bar.

He sat down with her in his arms and tucked her close before he pulled off her beer cap and held it to her lips. Her eyes fluttered open and she took a long drink, licking her lips when he took it away.

She reached up and trailed her fingers along his cheek, rasping her nails through his scruff. He didn’t like to see the uncertainty that was moving back into her eyes as she began to recover. She sucked her swollen bottom lip into her mouth, her expression cautious.  

“So…” Her throat was raspy from her cries of pleasure, and she cleared it before continuing. “So, what happens now?”

Though Dean was nervous too, about what the future would hold for them, he smiled reassuringly at Y/N and kissed her slowly and sweetly. 

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’d say we both won that round, which means we’re tied again.” He smiled wickedly at her and was happy to see an answering grin wreathe her face. “Meaning, we’ll have to try again and see if we can’t break it.”

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays.

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[muffinbeliever]

Neighborly Love [02]

Pairing: Coworker!Dean Winchester x Coworker!Reader

Word Count: 1131

Warnings: nothing ? trauma dumping lol but nothing that we didnt know already

Summary: Coworker!AU– Dean Winchester is the newbie around the office, and also your new cubicle neighbor. You have him all figured out from the start: a jerk, or so you think. It doesn’t help that he won’t stop flirting with you. Will Dean be able to convince you otherwise? 

A/N: oop hey guys *shyly tucks hair behind my ears* its been a while huh i was recently reminded that i actually told someone that id be posting the second chapter in december 2022 so we all know how that turned out... but anyways the only thing i can think of is #the hoes are gonna LOVE this have no fear y'all mother is here to feed you with a light chapter of lunch fluff

Masterlist | Neighborly Love Masterlist

You had just finished the fourth page of your project report, starting to double check for mistakes, when Dean cleared his throat. A quick glance showed him standing by the partition, his jacket hanging from his arm and an expectant look on his face. 

“Huh?” You asked, confused. You continued to proofread while you waited for his reply, your eyebrows furrowing as you tried to reword an awkward sentence. 

“I asked if you wanna get lunch,” he said. Your fingers hovered frozen over the keyboard. 

“Lunch?” You repeated, finally turning in your chair to face him properly. 

“Yeah, you know, the meal between breakfast and dinner? Eaten around midday? We get an hour off work? Which is right about now?” He teased, his green eyes twinkling with playfulness. 

“I know what lunch is.” You pretended to be annoyed to hide your amusement. “I was just processing the thought of lunch with you.” 

“Ouch,” he joked. “And here I was, doing a good deed by inviting you to lunch so you wouldn’t think of your breakup.” 

“Well, I wasn’t thinking about the breakup until right now,” you groaned. You had been so preoccupied with your report, you hadn’t given your breakup a single thought, but now, you had a whole hour to do nothing but that. 

“Then we’ll just have to go to lunch to take your mind off it,” he responded with a smirk. You debated continuing your work instead, but gave Dean’s offer a second thought.

“Beats work, I guess.” 

You saved your work and turned off the monitor before grabbing your purse. Your eyes swept the desk as you rose from the chair, and you had one arm in your jacket when you saw his grin. 

“What?” You asked, a little wary of his response.

“Nothing.” He was unsuccessful in feigning nonchalance. You gave him a pointed look.

“I…” He trailed off as he collected his thoughts. “I just think we got off on the wrong foot, and I’m hoping this lunch will be better,” he admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck and his eyes were averted, hinting towards his nervousness. You were thrown off by his truthfulness, but after a moment, you were surprised to find that you agreed.

“Yeah,” you said with a smile. The grin he returned conveyed his relief, and you swore the air felt a little lighter. “Come on, then. Part of inviting me to lunch is actually going.”

“Alright,” he chucked. “Where should we go? Lady’s choice.” 

The diner across the street was nothing special, but it was close and fast– two things you appreciated. The hostess seated the two of you upon arrival, and within five minutes, your orders were taken.

“So, Y/N Y/L/N, tell me about yourself,” Dean said, after the waitress set down your drinks. 

“There’s not much to tell,” you warned. 

“Oh?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” you said with a shrug. “When you’re an only child and both of your parents are on-call surgeons, it’s kinda lonely and boring. I read a lot as a kid and focused on school. I always went to class and ran for student-body president. Don’t get me wrong, though, I had a social life and friends. I dated a couple of boys and fooled around with a couple more, but nothing wild. And then I went to college, but that wasn’t anything wild either.”

You were quiet for a moment, giving yourself time before continuing. 

“I met Zach during the second half of junior year. We were in the same class and, I don’t know, I guess we kinda just clicked. We got coffee a couple of times and worked on a couple of projects together. Even after the semester was over, we kept in contact and eventually he asked me out and we started dating. After graduation, I got this job and he took an offer at a tech company two hours away.” 

A familiar lump began to form in your throat. “It’s been a year since then, and I thought things were going fine between us, but clearly they weren’t. And I–” 

Your vision blurred from the tears brimming your eyes. You took a deep breath. Dean offered the glass in front of you, and you sipped at it while the waitress set down your plates. Your mouth watered at the sight of the cheeseburger in front of you. 

“Anyways, enough about me,” you said, once the waitress had left. “What about you?” 

Dean shrugged in response. 

As you ate, he talked about the house fire that took his mother when he was four, leaving his dad to take care of him and his younger brother, Sam, who was only six-months-old at the time. He shared how his dad turned to alcohol after the tragedy, and how it was the cause of the car accident that killed him ten years later. Bobby, a close family friend without kids of his own, adopted the brothers right after. Dean struggled through high school and vowed to never set foot on a school campus again once he graduated. He lived at Bobby’s until Sam finished high school, working as a mechanic at Bobby’s body shop. From there, Dean bounced around, taking the odd job here and there.

You listened to his story with rapt attention, admiring his animated gestures and shining eyes as he talked about Sam, who was now in his last year of college. The brothers had remained close over the years, despite their physical distance.

“Eventually, after working so many different jobs, I had gained experience that employers valued– at least, enough to overlook my lack of college degree– and I ended up here,” he concluded with a shrug. He was relaxed against the cushion of the booth, reaching out his hand to swipe a french fry through ketchup. His fingers drummed on the table while he chewed. 

“Thanks for sharing that with me,” you said softly, offering him a small smile. His fingers stopped their tapping.

“Thanks for taking me up on lunch,” He responded, just as softly. His forearms rested against the table as he subtly leaned closer, mirroring you. The sunlight hit him at the perfect angle, revealing the flecks of gold amongst his vivid green eyes and the smaller, fainter freckles dusting his cheekbones. Your breath hitched at the sight.

The corners of his mouth slowly raised to a smile– the movement catching your attention. Your gaze lowered to his lips and you found yourself wondering if they were as soft as they looked. 

“Like what you see?” He was parroting his first words to her using the same, smooth flirtatious tone that had irritated every nerve in your body yesterday, but today, you found you didn’t mind it one bit.

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[weepinglevi]

patience is a virtue

summary: college!au. all aged up. eren and reader continue with their sexual escapades. find part one here! warnings: 18+ minors dni. dirty text messages, dirty talk. dom!eren and bratty reader (i suppose?). throat fucking and semi-public sex. (no p in v tho) word count: around 3.5k A/N: i have a love/hate relationship with this eren ahaha, he's been ruling my brainrot ever since the last part so i hope you enjoy! there will be a part three eventually, so be on the lookout for that! enjoy your read and feedback is greatly appreciated! xx

you awake to your phone vibrating somewhere next to you. the hope of it only being a one-time occurrence quickly proven to be false as it just wouldn't stop. brr-brr. a second of silence. brr-brr. pause. brr-brr.

taking a mental note to never go to sleep again without turning off your phone, you roll over to your other side and try to ignore it. you could simply answer the texts, but that meant you'd have to open your eyes. and that whoever was texting you would win this weird battle you've just come up with in your head.

"if you don't pick up your goddamn phone, i'll smack you over the head with it," sasha groans from the other side of your shared dorm, words coming slurry with her tiredness.

brr-brr.

"i could also stick it up your ass, your decision," a pillow comes flying to your head, serving as enough of a warning for you to sit up in your bed, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

"quit moaning, i'll turn it off now," you yawn, feeling around your bed for your phone, "you never hear me complaining about the shit you do in the middle of the night."

"that's because my shit is funny and not fucking annoying," she scoffs, followed by a muted thump as she is sinking back down into her pillows. sasha's way of ending the conversation.

you find your phone half-tucked underneath your pillow, the display already lighting up again. someone is desperate for attention, you think to yourself and unlock your phone with an annoyed sigh. the messages were coming from an unknown number.

thinking about your wet pussy. this is eren, btw. historia gave me your number. i told her you wouldn't mind you don't mind, do you?

in a matter of seconds, your heart is beating in your throat once more, just like this afternoon in that godforsaken computer lab. ears growing hot at his words, you could almost imagine the sound of him laughing at you again. with trembling fingers, you scroll down further.

anyway, let's do it again sometime i told you. i'll never let you forget about how you moaned my name i'm also not forgetting about how badly i want to fuck that pretty mouth of yours, so it's a win-win see ya, then

staring down at your phone, you don't know if you should answer him. and even if you would answer his texts, what the hell should you say? "fucking bastard," the words escaping your mouth before even realizing that you'd better keep quiet. the only thing that could make this situation any worse was if sasha were to wake up again.

scratch that, you think as you see eren's new messages.

how badly do you want to suck my cock? you looked really hot today, covered in my cum what, you're shy again?

there are two ways this could go: either you stand up, put on some clothes, and then go to eren's dorm to let hell rain upon him - or simply mute your phone and ignore him. deciding to go with the latter, you lie back down and save his number as "fuckhead", a small grin forming on your face. if he wants to be childish, then you can be, too.

the display still lighting up at a steady pace, you have to fight the urge to open his other messages. to physically prevent yourself from grabbing your phone again, you put your hands between your thighs and sigh. what the hell have i gotten myself into?

"so, who am i gonna have to teach some manners today?", sasha asks in the morning, "because there are only two valid reasons for sending that many texts in the middle of the night," she sits up in her bed and bends over to reach for her phone, "either someone's dead or there's a food sale."

cringing at the thought of having to read the countless other messages eren has sent throughout the night, you try to laugh at her comment, "of course, when there's food involved, you're all for it."

"girl's gotta eat," she claims, thankfully being too distracted by something on her phone to notice your strange behavior, "i'm gonna be back later than usual today, connie wants me to be his wingman again."

starting to go off on a tangent about how connie should just get a dating app already, sasha's words become more of background noise to you. you want to know what he wrote. what he has in store for you. at the same time, you curse yourself out. you're turning into a headless chicken and all of it because of eren fucking yeager?

you nod here and there, offering her a "yes" at what you believe to be fitting moments, desperately hoping she doesn't catch up on your restlessness. all the while the two of you are getting ready for the day. this goes on for a few more minutes and you have no clue what she's talking about now, so you decide to grab your phone and stand up.

"i'm gonna go for a run around campus, you want coffee?" you blurt out, interrupting her monologue. the device in your hand feels as if it's burning through your skin. slipping into your trainers, you're already halfway out the room, her perplexed "uh- yes, please," being muffled by the door closing behind you.

it's still warm outside - not as hot as yesterday, but warm enough for you to be glad to have forgotten your cardigan earlier. you let out a deep breath, trying to clear your mind. even though you told sasha you'd be out for a run, you walk at a slow pace.

some people are already wandering around campus, most of them on their way to a lecture. at this time in the morning, everyone has their heads full with their own worries so no one notices you slowly making your way off-campus.

arriving at a little park surrounded by trees, you sit down on the bench farest off. you notice your heart fluttering like the wings of a hummingbird when pulling the phone out of your back pocket. fuck him, you think once again while typing in your code. fuck him for making me feel this way.

12 unread messages.

didn't seem all too shy when i had my hand wrapped around your throat no need to play hard to get when i already had you if that makes sense? haven't fucked you yet doesn't mean i won't get to fuck you

all you want is to feel appalled by these messages. to screenshot them and send them to the dean. maybe even to his mother. sickened with yourself though, you already feel the familiar warmth creeping up your body, curling up in your abdomen.

i know you want it, too how fucking needy you were for me getting yourself off in public to the thought of me maybe you can tell me what exactly you were thinking of? gonna make sure to let your dreams come true, princess

pet names? you clench your fist at the thought of eren leaning over you, breathing the word princess into your ear. you have an inkling that he'd say it mockingly; spitting it out whilst gathering your hair in a ponytail, arching your back forcefully, and slamming his length into you without mercy.

no. you hate pet names. at least, you've always hated them.

i'm gonna find out if you're ignoring me right now remember, you're not the best actress. fucking suck at it, actually wouldn't want to be punished now, would we?

his last message echoed in your head. still coming to terms with the fact of what happened yesterday, now you have to deal with a whole new revelation: eren yeager being a cocky motherfucker pushing all the right buttons for you. even though you want to blast his ass for this, the mere thought of him being near you again is too sweet of an imagination.

you want to play this game, too. for whatever reason keep on riding this high, and you just know that no one could do it quite as well as eren can. somehow you can only imagine taking him on this ride with you, no one else.

so, in that manner you decide to ignore his messages. if he's desperate enough to keep on sending them in the middle of the night, you're sure it won't be long until he sends another text. and it would give him enough reason to try and punish you, whatever that might entail – you're excited to find out. fucking nervous, too. but then again, who wouldn't be?

you stand up and put your phone in your back pocket, a sense of excitement surrounding your steps as you turn left to make your way to the nearest coffee shop.

"something tells me you're ignoring me," of course, the moment eren's voice comes up behind you, you fucking flinch like a little bird that's been scared away, "mostly because i've seen you reading the messages, but what do i know?"

you turn to see him clutching his heart dramatically, "don't play with my feelings like this," he swoons, bringing one hand to his forehead. he's laughing again, all white teeth and bright smiles – you realize this is the kind of eren you rarely get to see. not the cocky bastard he normally portrays; right now, he seems to be a happy-go-lucky kind of guy, just enjoying himself. still, you want to show him that you can play just as well as he can.

crossing your arms in front of your chest, you slightly raise a brow, trying your hardest to not look as nervous as you feel. it's a lost cause though because you can already feel the tips of your ears glowing with heat again. can't things go my way for once? just once? you think and chew the inside of your cheek. you felt so sure of yourself just moments ago. how the hell can he have this sort of effect on you?

suddenly, his whole demeanor changes. before, he seemed laid-back, entertained by the game he played with you. now he leans forward, hands in the pockets of his jacket and an almost cruel smile forming on his lips, "don't try to challenge me in this. you'll lose."

you know that you should feel frightened. terrified, even. he's looking like a lion preparing to jump the antelope, a sense of alarming calmness around him that's causing the small hairs on your neck to stand up. but alas, the way he's looking at you seems to have the same effect on you his scent has.

"i told you not to ignore me," eren says and takes a few steps closer to you, "yet here you are, doing it again." the chuckle leaving his lips a stark contrast to his stern gaze, still trained on you. somehow, you feel awfully small again - still not frightened, though. you stare right back at him, tilting your head slightly as if you wanted to say "so what?"

"are you seriously that desperate to be punished?"

better now than never, you think and once again place a courtly smile on your lips, "seems like it."

for a split second, you see eren's smug look turn into a genuine smile. realizing that you're up for his game, he lets out a smooth whistle, "you do surprise me."

"if you wouldn't always be so full of yourself, i'm sure you'd have recognized this sooner," you can feel the confidence growing in yourself again. clinging on to it, you take a step toward him, "i'm full of surprises."

"oh, yeah? i bet you are," from the corner of your eye, you can see him lifting his hand. before thinking twice about it, you bat it away, "i'm not one for public displays of affection."

oh, it is on– eren's smirk turns into a full-fledged grin as he takes a grip of your wrist, "you sure about that?" lifting your hand to his face, for a short moment you think he's going to suck on your fingers again. but all he does is place a faint kiss on the back of your hand, "didn't seem like it yesterday."

"you weren't supposed to see."

"but i'm so glad i did," he leans forward, the two of you standing so close you can feel his breath on your face, "or else we wouldn't have this kind of fun right now."

still having a hold of your hand, he lifts his other to your jaw, gently tracing his thumb across your lower lip, "you looked so pretty in your skirt yesterday."

taking a leap of faith, you grab his hand, holding it in place and letting your tongue run across the tip of his thumb before biting down playfully. there's a hiss and then eren pulls away and grabs your arm, "come with me."

finally, you think and let him guide you to wherever he wants, let's have some fun, then.

on your way out of the park, you pass jean and marco. even though they stand to greet eren, he just raises his hand whilst not breaking his pace, "gotta go, have an assignment to work on."

"never seen you that determined, but go off," jean laughs.

before you know it, you're inside one of the countless maintenance sheds. pushing you against the wall, eren's movements seem to become more and more erratic by the second. pinning your arms over your head, he's looking down at you, breathing heavily. "you have no idea what you just got yourself into," licking his lips, he chuckles.

"oh, but i think i actually do," you smile innocently, fucking glad to have found your normal self again. admittedly, eren threw you off your game since yesterday – but it's just going to play into your hands now. he won't see it coming until it's hitting him straight in the face; that you're just as messed up as he seems to be.

"then prove it," he breathes against your ear, "tell me how badly you want it."

the stuffy air inside the dimly lit shed doesn't help with keeping eren's scent away from you. being so close to him, looking up into his shadowed face and right into his dilated eyes; you're like putty in his hands. you try to move forward, to touch him in some way because you just know that he'll feel so good under your skin.

"now now, princess," he moves even closer, wedging you between himself and the wall, "how about we learn some patience, first?"

you nod, but then grind up against his thigh, hissing through your teeth, "i worry i'll be a real handful." you know you could very well move your hands, too – eren seems to still be testing the waters as to how far he can go with you. but with him actually letting you grind on him; you decide to play into his hands.

your breaths grow quicker as you keep on, pace becoming erratic. all you want is to get rid of your track pants – come to think of it, what you actually want is eren under you whilst you continuously bounce on his cock. you want to hear him call you princess and immediately after call you his little whore because that's exactly what you are.

eren has a little smile on his lips and you know you should ask yourself why – because you're doing exactly what he has forbidden you to do – but you're too far gone. the heat growing, you feel your knees buckle but he's holding you up; one hand now resting on your waist for support. you're so close –

and then he pulls away from you, nearly causing you to topple over. chest heaving, you place your hands on your knees for balance, "what the fuck was – "

"patience is a virtue," interrupting you with a laugh, but his voice heavy with lust, "thought i might give you a lesson you're ought to remember."

you look up to see eren palming his erection through his pants, standing about an arm's length away from you, "but i have to admit, hearing you getting yourself off is fucking hot."

biting your teeth together, you straighten up and take a step toward him – only for him to click his tongue in disapproval, "you're gonna stay right there," tugging at his pants he raises his eyebrow, "i told you what i want, get on your knees for me."

"the fuck i will," you spit out and make a move again, grasping for his waistband. but eren is quick to take a hold of your hand and pushes you back to the wall, "come on, now, princess," he chuckles but his eyes are concentrated at you, "you want this, don't you?". he's asking for permission, the thought feeling very comforting to you. and also, very excited for what's about to come.

"of course, i do," you answer him earnestly, resting the back of your head against the wall, "or else i wouldn't be here."

"fantastic," he breathes, a little smile playing in the corners of his mouth, "then get down on your knees," placing his hands on your shoulders, weighing you down, "i won't ask again."

the change of tone in his voice has you nodding, slowly sinking onto your knees, you're bursting in anticipation. one hand finally pulling down his pants, he runs his other through your hair, then down your jaw until it comes to rest on your chin.

thumbing at your lower lip, he groans "do i have to be careful?"

you just shake your head no. then you break away from his gaze, fixing your eyes on the bobbing cock in front of you. it's tip leaking with precum already, you remember how badly you wanted to lick it away yesterday.

taking his cock at its base, you bend forward and slide your tongue around its head. the salty taste sending shudders down your spine, you make sure to lift your eyes again once you prepare to take it all down your throat. your other hand snakes up to his balls, slightly tugging them which earns you a moan from eren, and fuck, you're so wet at the sound alone, you let go of his cock and slide one hand down to your own center.

he gathers your hair in one hand, taking the base of his throbbing cock in the other, "bet this is what you thought of yesterday," he slowly but surely pulls your head in closer, "of how i fuck the words right out of you."

bucking your hips into your own hand, you can do nothing but whimper at his words. because yes, this is exactly what you imagined. he's only halfway in and you're already struggling to breathe, but not wanting him to stop you hold your breath and push down even further; trying desperately not to moan.

the tears in your eyes causing your vision to be blurry, you attempt to blink them away.

"shit – ", he's pumping into you now, rubbing the tears from your cheeks and then placing both his hands on your head, "you're doing so well – "

getting lost in his words, the fear of being caught is so far away; you finally moan around his cock. saliva soaking the hem of his shirt, you can't seem to take his whole length, no matter how hard you try. you're a fucking mess under him and the thought alone is nearly sending you over the edge.

he's trying to pull away now and you know he's close, so you snake your hand around his hip, hoping this is enough of a sign to him that if he dared to cum anywhere else than down your throat, you'd bite him.

"you really – " his voice is hoarse, "fuck – this is fucking perfect," he moans as he comes to the realization. leaning his arm against the wall behind you, he's fucking himself into your mouth, his panting and the sound of your choking filling the room.

you close your eyes to blink the tears away again, but eren pulls on your hair, "no – look at me."

with this the knot in your belly explodes, leaving you holding on to eren's hip as you ride the waves of electricity that are running through your body like lava.

"such a good little whore – " he's gone as well, holding your head in place as he's pumping his load down your throat, leaving you no other option than to swallow – which you eagerly do. you feel his legs shaking under your hands.

once again, eren hands you his shirt to clean your face. this time, you take it with a smile, noting that, "i still have your other one."

"don't worry, i'll come get it sometime when sasha's away," the two of you know exactly what this means – neither of you are planning on this to be over anytime soon.

"i'll let you know, then," you nod and stand up, hoping you don't look as well-fucked as you feel, and make your way to the door, "she's gone most of the time."

taglist: @jeageristbaby @icedkoffees @blondeboyfriend @peachysimp @levibasketcase @zimzalabim1110 @droolingoverfanfics

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[haus-seeblick]

Suptober Day 3: Rainbows

Title: We’ve Got Your Back, Jack

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 1,660

Tags: Mild (brief) Angst, Dean Winchester and Castiel are parents, De-aged Jack Kline (he did it to himself), Jack Kline is twelve, Fingernail painting as therapy, Claire is an excellent big sister, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Canon Divergence from 15x18 (twelve years later), Jack has a guinea pig named Nougat

Relationships: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Claire Novak/Kaia Nieves, Background Sam Winchester/Eileen Leahy

On AO3 Here

When Jack is teased at school for wearing his favorite rainbow jacket, his family comes together to help build him back up.

“Sunshine, you gotta calm down.” He moves to stand behind Cas where he’s sitting at the kitchen table and squeezes his shoulders reassuringly. There’s hardly any give; Cas is a single ball of tension.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dean sets a steaming mug of tea in front of Cas, who glares at it with such intensity that Dean’s surprised it doesn’t shatter on the spot.

“I can’t calm down,” Cas growls. “He was bullied. The sweetest boy in the world, and they made him feel small. How are you calm, Dean?”

Dean sighs and pulls up a chair. “He seemed fine, Cas. I mean, he is God. He was already talking about changes he wants to make once he comes back into power.”

Cas grips his mug and takes an abrupt, angry sip. “I wish he could make them now.”

“Me too, buddy. But he’s learning. Every shitty person he deals with, he learns something. That’s why he’s doing this whole human thing, remember?”

The kitchen’s quiet for a moment while Cas contemplates. He cups his hand over the tea, steam escaping between his fingers in lazy tendrils. “It’s just my instinct to shield him from cruelty.”

Dean nods. He scoots closer, sliding an arm around Cas’ warm, solid waist. “I know.”

Some of the rigidity in Cas’ posture softens and he leans into Dean’s side. Dean presses a kiss to his temple.

“What can we do?” Cas asks quietly. “For now. I want him to feel happy at school.”

Dean hums thoughtfully. “Not sure. The school already talked to the other kid's parents, so that part’s taken care of, and Jack said it was just the one boy. I think we just gotta be there for him. Remind him he’s awesome.”

“I just want to wear my rainbow coat.”

Dean and Cas turn around to see Jack standing in the doorway, rubbing his eye. He’s wearing the bee-patterned pajamas Cas got him for his twelfth birthday in the spring, and is cradling his guinea pig, Nougat, in one arm.

Cas immediately stands up and beckons Jack over. “You couldn’t sleep?”

Jack shakes his head, as earnest and deliberate as he does everything. He pads across the kitchen and hands Nougat to Dean before sitting down in Cas’ empty chair. It took Dean a while to get used to the guinea pig, to her sharp nails and shrill squeaks, but now he likes having her warm little body against his chest.

Cas flips the kettle back on to make Jack a cup of tea, too. “Did that boy’s teasing start with your coat?”

Jack plays with the strings on his pajama pants and nods. “I don’t understand. When he said those mean things and laughed, he felt—” Jack pauses, blinking thoughtfully at the ceiling. “He felt afraid, like he was cornered. Defensive.”

“His emotions must have been strong for you to sense them,” Cas says gently, pouring the steaming water into Jack’s favorite mug, a blue one with a big sun on the side. Dean slowly strokes a finger over Nougat’s soft brown head. His chest feels tight.

“Yes, they were. I feel bad that he’s scared,” Jack continues. “And I’m going to work on helping people like that when Amara gives me my powers again. But I also just want to wear my coat.”

He’s twelve, Dean thinks. He’s God, and he’s twelve.

“You’re gonna wear your coat, kiddo,” he says, bumping Jack’s foot with his own. “That other kid, it sucks that he’s hearing shitty stuff at home. And it’s not your fault that he took it out on you. Trust me. If you wanna go to school decked out in rainbows, we’ve got your back.”

Cas nods and crouches down next to Jack, handing him his mug. “Dean is right. Our priority is helping you be yourself and be happy during your time as a human.”

Jack shuffles his feet a little. He cups his hand over the mug just as Cas had done. “Um, in that case, can I ask something?”

“Yes, of course,” Cas says.

“Well, my friend Mallary likes painting her nails. They look so cool. But she said boys don’t usually do that.”

“And you’d like to,” Cas prompts. His eyes meet Dean’s for a moment.

Jack nods. “Rainbow.”

Dean stands up, cradling Nougat snug against his chest as the guinea pig emits a startled squeak. “Well, then, you’re gonna have rainbow nails. I know just who to call.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Claire sweeps into the house the next morning — Sunday — in a whirlwind of hair and shopping bags. Even though they heard her coming all the way up the driveway, swearing and dropping things, it’s always a shock when she bursts through the door. Kaia follows quietly, with a fondly exasperated smile on her face. She rolls her eyes at Dean and he stifles a laugh.

Claire stomps into the living room and dumps her mountain of bags onto the couch. “Hi, old men. Where’s my brother?”

“Hello, Claire,” Cas says, lips quirking. “I see you’ve come quite prepared.” He’s leaning in the doorway to the living room, arms crossed, an old t-shirt of Dean’s stretched over his broad shoulders. From his perch on the couch, Dean lets his eyes roam appreciatively; Cas has been ageing ever since he returned from the Empty a human, and the years look good on him. He even has a bit of silver in his wild hair. Twelve years together, and Dean still can't believe his luck.

“Yeah, well, Dean calls me saying my baby bro needs a confidence boost, I’m gonna go all out.” Claire starts emptying the bags onto the coffee table. “I brought every color I could find.”

As if on cue, Jack appears in the doorway next to Cas. His hair is still rumpled from sleep but his eyes are shining, taking in the rows of nail polish that Claire is lining up on the table.

“Wow, is that all for me?” He practically bounces into the room and sits cross-legged on the floor, picking up a blue bottle.

Claire ruffles his hair, disheveling it even more, and sits down next to him. “Hell yeah. And for your dads, too.”

Dean blinks. “Uh— you want us to— yeah, that idea was for Jack, actually.”

This time it’s Kaia’s turn to stifle a laugh, and Dean shoots her a dirty look. Cas chuckles and pushes off the doorframe to join Dean on the couch. He takes Dean’s hand in his own and lifts it up, lightly stroking one finger at a time as he looks at the short, blunt nails. Dean may work hard at the garage, but he’s hygienic and doesn’t bring any grease home, under his nails or otherwise.

Now, he blushes a little as Cas brushes a kiss onto his knuckles. “Dean will look beautiful. Just like Jack.”

Jack whoops and shoots Dean a dazzling smile. Dean can’t really say no to that face.

It’s decided that Kaia will paint Jack’s nails rainbow, a different color on each nail (Jack insists that some should have polka dots, too), and that Claire will do Cas’ and Dean’s. Dean tries to ask for just black, like Baby, but gets shouted down by everyone in the room and grudgingly agrees to a dark green. When Claire is done wiping down his nails and applies the first brush of color to his thumb, he has to admit it looks nice.

Jack keeps exclaiming in delight every time Kaia starts on a new color, and nearly loses it when she reveals that she got some tiny glittery stars to sprinkle on the drying polish.

“It looks like a galaxy,” he breathes, eyes wide, moving his fingers gingerly in the light from the window. Dean glances at Cas, who’s getting his nails painted a holographic blue, and is surprised to see a bright sheen in Cas’ eyes as he watches Jack. He’s smiling softly. Dean reaches over (careful of his own drying nails) and lays a hand on his shoulder. Together they watch their kid — sort of God, sort of not — reclaim his happiness one sparkly fingernail at a time.

Once everyone’s clear coat polish is dry (Dean had no idea there were so many steps involved), they take a bunch of pictures to send to Sam and Eileen. Dean almost considers hiding his own hands, but Jack’s gazing at him so excitedly that he splays them on the table next to Cas’ without a second thought.

They do look cool. Sam even says so in his text, after a string of heart-eye emojis.

Claire and Kaia head out after lunch (Cas quietly packs up about half of the nail polish they brought, pressing it into Kaia’s hands to take back home with them). Jack spends the rest of the afternoon picking out a suitably colorful outfit to match his nails at school tomorrow.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“This was a wonderful idea, Dean. Thank you,” Cas says that evening as they’re back at the kitchen table, Cas nursing his usual mug of tea and Dean packing Jack’s lunches for the week. “He was so happy. I hope he’ll be okay tomorrow.”

Dean slides the last sandwich into the fridge and lays his hands back on Cas’ shoulders. They’re warm and pliant tonight. He digs his fingers in, leaning down to kiss Cas’ cheek.

“He’ll be okay. He knows we’ve got his back.” He’s quiet for a moment and runs a hand through Cas’ thick hair, following a silver strand with his shiny-green thumb. “That counts for a hell of a lot.”

Cas twists around, covering Dean’s hand still on his shoulder with his own and gazing up at him. “You are a good man, Dean Winchester. A good man and an excellent father.”

Dean sucks in a big breath. “All right, sunshine. That’s about all the feelings I can handle today.” He grins down at Cas, though, just to assure him he’s fine.

And he is.

[lovingrosewho]

Fake Dating (pt. 1)

Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4 // Part 5

Hello again! I’ve been really busy with this one, I was bored/tired of not finding a lot of tropes involving Crowley that were SFW, so I decided to write my own :-) This has pretty much every major trope I can think of; Winchester!reader (although it’s not specified and you can decide that), fake dating, sharing a bed (sort of), lack of heat, etc. Maaaybe the last chapter will be NSFW but I haven’t decided that yet (if you have any thoughts or suggestions on this I’d appreciate them a ton) anyways, I’ll shut up now and let you read, PLEASE, if you have any feedback it’s gladly welcomed! I lately realized that I put a looot of dialogue into fanfiction and perhaps not enough context, so I tried to fix that <3 Usual disclaimer: English is not my first language, bla bla bla :-) Ly!

MULTICHAPTER

Pairing: Crowley x Reader

Rating: T. I guess fluff/crack?

Word count: 1.2k

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester need your help with a case, which involves pretending to date the King of Hell.

Warnings: mild innuendos, summoning?

“Nuh-uh, I’m not doing it” you declare turning your back on the boys. Dean runs to you and gently grabs your arm without you stopping.

“(Y/N) come on, you’re the only one who can do it” he begs, which gains a sigh from your mouth and you finally stand still, tilting your head at him as a prompt to keep talking “It’ll just be a couple of hours, just until Sammy and I are able to get to the house and hide from those two jackasses before they get there”.

“Are you actually asking me to have dinner with a couple of psychos... pretending to date him?” you question Dean sincerely, a look of concern and disbelief plastered on your face. Said petition, coming from the most protective Winchester brother, was a true surprise.

“You know I wouldn’t be doing it if it wasn’t our only option. (Y/N), please” he supplicates one more time.

It had all started when Sam and Dean screwed up at catching the shape shifters you were after, it was a simple job, but of course, they went in guns blazing, walking into a trap, a set-up, and when they realized, the monsters were gone. Funny enough, they turned out to be quite the art collectors, which seemed logical, given the circumstances under which they were killing and stealing from. But who could possibly know a pair of loonies like that? Even better, be friends with them? Exactly.

The King of Hell.

It wasn’t as if Dean were asking the world from you, it was a simple date. A risky one, sure, but you’d had it worse and with far worse men. The plan was straightforward, you entertained the shifters pretending to be Crowley’s girlfriend, whilst Dean and Sam got to turn down the security system of the house and hide, surprising the shifters the moment they entered.

“Fine” you mutter after a few minutes considering your possibilities. Dean immediately lifts you up the ground and kisses you all over the cheeks and forehead repeating again and again a series of ‘thank you’. You sigh for what seems to be the eleventh time this day and follow Dean towards the dungeon where Sam is waiting with the ingredients. You nod over at him to let him know you’re ready.

“Et ad congregandum, eos coram me” Sam proclaims as the blood from his ripped open palm runs across the dagger and through his fingers, dripping inside the summoning bowl.

A strong tug shakes the earth beneath you, and a low thunder sounds in the distance as the King of Hell himself, presents before your eyes.

Crowley looks directly ahead at the three of you, and then brings his gaze down, rolling his eyes in annoyance at the sight of the devil trap.

“Hello, boys” he salutes politely “(Y/N)”.

Your legs falter at the sound of your name in his voice, his lips savoring each and every syllable as your core twitches and you’re forced to bite your lower lip down not to hum in response. You had always been attracted to him even if you didn’t know how to act around him, it wasn’t as if they taught you in any manual nor hunter school how to make a move on the King of Hell.

“Aren’t we a little past the whole devil trap deal?” Crowley asks bringing you out of your musings “What is it that you want this time?”

“The shape shifters you were talking about the other day, the art collectors” Dean starts and is interrupted by the demon.

“What about them?” Crowley says with a bored look until his glare lands on yours. You arm with courage and mentally scold yourself for being such a nervous fuss, giving a brave step forward and speaking.

“We need your help to trick them” you tell him and catch an interested shine in his eyes.

“And why exactly would I help you with that? Mind you, they’re my personal acquaintances, very important, and very dangerous acquaintances” he exclaims, his stare not dropping yours “What’s in it for me?”

“A date with me and the three of us not kicking your delicate ass” you declare, crossing your arms in your chest, trying to maintain your tone neutral and your mind in place. Crowley’s eyes finally leave yours to roam throughout your body.

“Threatening, aren’t we, sexy?” he speaks at you, clicking his tongue. Dean takes a step forward, demon blade in hand and angry stare, you stop him right in his tracks grabbing him from the hem of his jacket and yanking him back again “Lucky for you, those shape shifters have been meddling in a... particular, and highly important, business of mine, so, I’ll gladly help”.

The three of you stare blankly at him.

“Just like that?” Sam asks him, which causes Crowley to roll his eyes once again.

“I’ll happily deny until you have something else to offer if that’s what you want, Samantha” he affirms and causes the youngest Winchester to frown in response and raise his arms in surrender.

“So it’s settled then” you declare, exhaling a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“Text me the details, will you love?” Crowley pronounces softly. You nod quietly and walk towards the devils trap to free him, but when you’re near enough you trip over some ingredients that were still on the floor, breaking the seal either way. Crowley catches you and holds you tightly by the waist.

“Eager much, (Y/N)?” he purrs in your ear and you feel yourself melting at his touch, but you readjust just fine and separate from him when you catch sight of Dean beginning to sense something odd. Crowley raises an eyebrow at your impassive glance, but says nothing, instead, to your surprise, he brings out your cellphone from his suit jacket.

“How did you...?” you start, looking into the side of your jeans you thought you had it in.

“Not so hard to pickpocket you, darling” he expresses, curiously eyeing you “I have very talented hands”.

You gulp as you turn to stare back at him, just to see him typing something on your phone, his smug smile not going unnoticed by you.

“I guess I do affect you at some level, don’t I?” he mutters so only you are able to hear him. You stay still, not saying a word, biting your lip down as he handles back your phone to you, his fingertips delicately brushing your hands, vanishing the moment the electronic touches your palm, the lights of the archive room seeming to fade at the singular contact and light up again when he’s gone. You check your phone to see what he did, the words “My King” read on the top of the screen and the number “666” at the center. You roll your eyes and put your phone back in your pocket.

“And? What’d he do?” Deans asks expectantly. You make a dismissive gesture with your hand.

“Nothing. It’s done” you declare turning to the Winchesters, proceeding to leave the room with both brothers looking at each other like questioning, what did they just miss?

Part 2

MASTERLIST (If anyone would like to be tagged you’re free to tell me! <3)

[bloodsigilsandpie]

A Turn of Events

I’m not going to stand back and let my emotional support characters be treated like that.

Here’s something that I’m pretty sure cannot possibly be worse than what was aired.

wc: 556

Part 1 of Chapter 1

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |  Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7

He could feel the rebar inside him. The blood had started to seep through his jacket. He managed to keep his voice steady, “Sam. I don’t think I’m gonna be able to move.”

“Dean? What-” Sam moved closer and realized what had happened.

“All that and a rusty nail takes me out, huh?” He let out a dry laugh that sounded more like a wheeze.

“Wait, Dean, hold on.” Sam stepped back and started looking around for something, anything that would help.

“Sammy, stop. It's okay. It’s gonna be okay. You-”

“No. It's not! It's not, Dean! We’ve been through too much for me to be okay with this! And stow that ‘let me go’ crap. This isn’t over.” Sam turned around, ignoring Dean’s strained breathing and called out, “Jack? Jack! Jack, can you hear me? Please, we need you!”

They heard a light flutter of wings and Dean felt a hand on his shoulder. With a small flash of white light Dean was healed and brought down from the wall.

“Jack!” Dean gasped as he looked at the boy standing next to him.

“Hi Dean, Sam. I was going to meet you in the bunker but I guess we’ll do this now.” He took a deep breath and walked over to one of the nearest crates, confusing the Winchesters who were surprised he even showed.

“Amara and I got to spend some time together and we came to an agreement. She decided it would be better if instead of the ‘Light and Darkness’ both existing in me, it would be better with her.”

“Wait, you mean she is now her own… ‘being’ and you're...” Dean waved his hand vaguely at Jack.

“Just me. Well, not yet. She’s still here. We have some things to get done first. But when she does leave I’ll be just, me, Jack. Still a Nephilim, though. I can't really go on without my grace. She said I deserved a life. And a childhood.” he finished with a smile.

Sam returned the smile but they still had a few questions, “Wait, what do you mean stuff? Do you need anything from us?”

“Yes, actually we do. First we need to stop over at Hell.”

Dean took a moment to appreciate how casually that sentence could be thrown into their conversations before asking, “Can you maybe give us more details kid?”

“We’re going to see Rowena. She found an ancient book that might have something about putting the Empty back to sleep.”

Dean’s face fell at the mention of the Empty. “You’re putting the Empty to sleep… forever?”

“Yes. That’s what I need you for. We made a deal that said we would put it to rest as long as we get some angels in return, you know with Heaven slowly dying and everything. And a few demons- Rowena’s request. But it won't give up Cas. So one of you will have to go in and pull Cas out while the other helps Rowena with the spell.”

Sam felt his heart lighten for the first time in maybe years when a light that had been gone a long time returned to Dean’s eyes as he asked, “We’re bringing Cas back?”

“Of course. I am god for now. What else would I do with all this power?”

“Well, let’s go to Hell then!”

(ᵖˡˢ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵘⁿᵈᵉʳ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵘᵗ)

First of all, I didn’t get the ending I wanted, or even one I could tolerate, so I’m writing my own.

I see many people are doing whole rewrites and I can’t wait to read them. But I just want to see the boys have peace and not send the message that you have to die for it. You can have a good life no matter what you had to go through in the past. There is always hope.

So I’m going to fix this clusterfuck of a finale and write a season 16. It’s just going to be TFW 2.0 and their extended family (ᴮᴱᶜᴬᵁˢᴱ ���ᴬᴹᴵᴸʸ ᴬᴵᴺ’ᵀ ᴱᴺᴰᴵᴺᴳ ᵂᴵᵀᴴ ᴮᴸᴼᴼᴰ. ᴺᴼᵀ ᴵᴺ ᴹʸ ᵂᴼᴿᴸᴰ!) doing regular things with maybe an occasional decapitation.

Only fluff. Pure domestic fluff. No pining. No hurt without comfort. No angst. My babies are going to be happy. I promise. And I’m not leaving till I wrap this up with a fucking bow.

This is just part one of the first chapter because I am incapable of writing more than 500 words in one post. I’ll be posting at least twice a week and the whole fic will be on AO3 once finished.

If you want to be tagged in my season 16 fics please let me know.

[riddleblack246]

For @scoobydean and @destielsecretsanta2020

“This could be nice for Jack.”

“’My First Christmas’. Cas, this is meant for babies.”

“It’s still his first Christmas with us.”

“That mean we should get one for you too?”

“If you’d like.”

Read below for some Team Free Will 3.0 holiday head canons~!

After everything goes down with Jack makes use of his new abilities, Sam and Dean are much more willing to fight to keep him with them. He initially wonders if it is because he’s “useful” to them now. The brothers promptly inform him that no, it’s because this is the first time where they can all feel safe enough to take a breath. Sure, they’re still hunters. But after everything they’ve been through, they all deserve a chance to enjoy life without constantly looking over their shoulders. And so Jack stays.

As promised, he brought back those that were loved and lost. Obviously everyone is relieved and thankful, but that is most clearly seen in the return of Eileen and Castiel. Sam and Eileen are quick to pick up where they left off. Castiel, however, is a bit more hesitant. He didn’t expect to ever see Dean again. He truly thought he wouldn’t have to know Dean’s feelings and when he confessed, he felt he could live with that. But now he’s suddenly back in this world, aware of his existence and the knowledge that he told the man he’d been in love with for over a decade how he felt. But Dean doesn’t allow him to panic for long. Enveloping Cas in his arms, he’s squeezing the angel’s vessel so tightly that he can barely get out the words. Nonetheless, he does and finally returns the sentiment that Castiel never expected to hear.

“I love you too, Cas.”

And now to dig into holiday centric joys!

By the time Christmas rolls around, the bunker’s primary couples have developed a sense of routine. Eileen has finally moved in and Dean and Castiel have eased into a comfortable romantic domesticity. And for the first time in a while, there are no hunts to investigate or major threats to take on, and the Winchesters found themselves able to celebrate the holidays in a way that they hadn’t had a chance to in some time (save for the Mrs. Butters stint).

On the first of December, Dean sits down in the library and begins to make a list, trying to figure out exactly what was expected of a traditional Christmas. When Sam catches him, he expects scoffs of disagreement or just bored indifference. Instead, he supplies the idea of inviting some people to the bunker.

“What, Sammy? You want to throw a Christmas rager?” (The statement does earn him an eye roll)

“No. I just thought it might be nice. See everyone together.”

Neither of them explicitly say why it would be nice, but they know the relief that would come with seeing each person they never expected to see again. Dean tasks his brother with making a guest list and sending out an e-mail to those on it (because Dean draws the line at trying to make actual invitations).

The response is overwhelmingly positive and soon enough, they’re fielding constant texts from Garth, asking if it would be okay to bring his kids, and e-mails from Donna, offering to bake a multitude of requested holiday treats. 

Amidst holiday planning, the group allows themselves to give into expectations of the season. Jack and Castiel are largely in the dark of what is or isn’t part of the holidays and while Dean, Sam, and Eileen aren’t the most immersed, they do have an idea of what is to be done and are admittedly eager to dive in.

One of the first things on Dean’s list is to decorate a tree. He even insists on cutting one down himself, as aside from various times he had to cut and sharpen his own stakes, it’s something he’s never had a chance to do. Sam, reluctant to join him, tells his brother to have fun. In the spirit of “giving”, Dean bring Cas and Jack along, assuring Sam and Eileen that they’ll “be a while ;)”. They return some hours later with a tree that rivals the Rockefeller Center and relief in the fact that they have two celestial beings to transport something of that size. Decorating it is another story.

After digging through the bunker and finding that, no, the Men of Letters did not hoard Christmas ornaments or wreaths or any such things among their piles of artifacts and cursed objects, the groups decides to get a little shopping done. They initially hit a big box store for a bunch of basics - lights, tinsel, various colored balls (Dean makes several jokes about this), but as the month goes on, all of them are guilty of picking up random items to decorate with while out.

Eileen delightedly shows her boys a Christmas pyramid she bought and is quick to tell Jack that he can’t light it whenever he wants, as forgetting about it could result in burning down the bunker.

Sam buys all of them advent calendars, each dedicated specifically to every member of the bunker. Dean doesn’t comment on Sam’s shift toward the holiday spirit, not only because he’s happy that his brother has allowed himself to be more joyfully invested in things, but also because every day for the month he gets to appreciate a new and weird specialty bottle of hot sauce. Sam’s own contains different types of tea, Eileen’s has jam, Jack’s has little LEGO figures, and Castiel’s has coffee.

Jack nearly gives Dean a heart attack one morning when the man wakes up to find a nutcracker as tall as he is in the crow’s nest. Jack tells him all about finding it in a shop he and Castiel passed when getting supplies and insisting that it was a perfect thing to have for the bunker. Dean looks to Castiel and knows the angel would have been too soft to say no. Then again, he knows he would have been just as guilty.

Castiel begins buying ornaments for people in the bunker. Even with Dean teasing him about it, he does buy a “my first Christmas” ornament and puts a photo of Jack inside that Eileen helped him print out. He finds that he is particularly fond of ornaments that contain photos and begins to buy ones for that explicit purpose.

Dean doesn’t necessarily have a type of decoration that he finds himself buying outside of what they have, but he is fond of the lights. He usually insists they stay on as long as allotted, urging whoever is the last to go to bed to turn them off (though it’s usually himself).

When it does snow, Dean is eventually irritable about it with Sam and Eileen in a similar boat, though to a lesser degree. Shoveling snow out of the way of the bunker’s entrance is a pain in the ass and none of them love the chore of getting treads on their respective tires. But seeing Jack’s fascination with it - and realizing that it’s his first time encountering snow, they find themselves softening.

After getting help in clearing access to the bunker, the group spends much of the day outside. There is an unspoken agreement that they want Jack to experience all the great enjoyments of snow and it honestly brings out the kid in them too. They build a mediocre snowman (Sam takes the heat for his poor artistic skills), make snow angels (the jokes about Castiel doing so get old within five minutes), have a snowball fight (Eileen is fucking ruthless and not above putting snow down jackets), and creating makeshift sleds to race. The sledding is what ultimately makes them go back inside. Garbage can lids are hard to steer and after Dean eats it by running into a tree and loosing a tooth, even Cas fixing it doesn’t resolve the choice to go in. Nonetheless, the accident doesn’t stall the mood, as Dean insists on introducing Jack to one more awesome component of the Traditional Snow Day - the hot chocolate at the end. Said hot cocoa almost results in a fight when, after Dean makes enough for all of them, Castiel reluctantly admits that he doesn’t care for it, and Dean and Jack nearly come to childish blows over who gets his mug. Later that evening, Castiel makes sure to thank Dean privately for allowing Jack to have it. ;)

Now, when it comes to cooking, Dean likes to consider himself pretty well-versed. Baking is another story. The preciseness that’s required is what gets him. Sure, he can be meticulous, but he’s always been more of a “little of this, a bunch of that” kind of guy over exact measurements, which leaves a lot more room for error when it comes to baking. But after going on a “Gilmore Girls” binge with Castiel (the couple constantly debates the superior show of the former and “Dr. Sexy, M.D.”), he can’t help imagining a scene of tenderly showing Cas how to roll out dough and mussing some flour in his hair and watching the angel lick the spoon in a way that borders on pornographic. The day after watching, he’s searching for cookie recipes and telling Castiel to dig out some aprons.

As is the Winchester way, this expectation does not come to fruition. Cas, as he thought, didn’t know a thing about cooking or baking. But Dean pictured being able to guide him, to do all the romantic shit you see in Hallmark movies. Instead, the angel is complaining about not being able to just will the baked goods into existence, standing in the way when Dean needs to get any kind of ingredient, and getting flour on every fucking surface in the kitchen. Things reach a boiling point when Cas pulls the cookies out of the oven, sans oven mitts, and for a brief moment, Dean’s brain operates on a panic reflex and snatches the tray from his hands. The result is their hours of baking scattered all over the floor, a dented baking sheet, and second-degree burns on the hunter’s hands. He’s huffing and cursing and he fully expects Cas to scold him and point out the obvious fact that he’s an angel and such temperatures have no effect on him. But instead, he watched Castiel pulled his hands from the faucet (having immediately shoved them under there after he burned himself) and tenderly brushes his finger tips over the wounds. Dean feels the familiar sensation of healing flesh, something he hasn’t felt in a bit and he’s silent as Cas brings the newly healed skin to his lips and presses a kiss to his palms. The irritability baking had brought them is gone. Dean lets Cas wave the kitchen clean and they decide to just go out and buy Christmas cookies instead. Later that evening, Cas’ lips taste like ginger and Dean finds that the reality is way better than the fantasy.

They ultimately end up hosting the party that started their shift into the Christmas spirit a few days before the actual holiday. After all, they know most of their friends prefer flying over driving and it might be a lot to ask them to come out on the actual holiday. But their concerns of traffic and irritated guests soon fly out the window in the face of so many familiar… well, faces. Hugs never stop coming and despite everyone’s claim that gifts would not be necessary, everyone knows that’s bullshit and a pile beneath their ridiculous tree grows with every teasing comment and expression of happy holidays.

Speaking of the tree, Castiel is quite pleased with his holiday crafting and the other members of the bunker share that sentiment. Since the angel discovered the photo-insert ornaments, he had taken it upon himself to spend random periods during the month finding photographs of each important person in their lives that he could and putting them into such items. Everyone takes joy in searching for their own picture. Claire comments that he picked a terrible one of her, but Cas hears her quietly asking Dean if she could take it home with her, as it features her and Kaia pressed close in a hug. Charlie adores her’s and insists that she wants to make the same craft, but only if they do it together. Everyone quietly appreciates the ones made for those that aren’t present to appreciate them. Jack ensures that Mary’s ornament has prime placement. Eileen hugs Sam when she catches him looking at Kevin’s for a while. Dean makes a point to kiss Castiel privately after finding Bobby’s nestled among some tinsel. Everyone agrees that their the best decorations in the place.

Hunters and those that know them have never been known to operate on a normal schedule, so it is nearly three in the morning before the bunker clears out. Some have elected to drive home if the trip was relatively easy. Others have settled into the many spare rooms that the bunker holds. Once all the gifts have been opened, the eggnog’s been drunk, and everyone has eaten their weight in treats, only Dean and Cas remain in the quiet bunker. They sit together in the library, positioned on one of the many extended seats they’d brought out to fit their guests. The lights of the enormous tree are still on at Dean’s request and Castiel can’t help staring at the way the different colors still look so beautiful on him. He glances up at the other decorations strewn about. The bows, the poinsettias (Garth had brought something like ten of them), the holly, the- He spots a familiar item of decor. He’d seen Sam and Eileen equally position themselves under it in wait of their partner, always stopping them with the insistence that a kiss must be administered before they continue on their way about the bunker. Lazily, he nudges Dean and points to the archways between the crow’s nest and the hall that leads to the bedrooms.

“Is standing beneath that a requirement for kissing?”

Dean follows his finger and huff out a laugh. Even though they hadn’t been dating long, they’d been together for so many years that he knows the angel is teasing. He turns to meet his eyes, smiling at the way the lights almost change them from blue to a rainbow of color.

“What, you want to kiss under the mistletoe? Now?”

For a moment, it seems as if he’s considering the offer. But instead, he shakes his head and reaches a hand up to cup Dean’s cheek. He knows that he could have kiss Dean under there the same way Eileen and Sam do. But he knows they’re different. Dean is a lot of thing and as much as he would deny it, one of those things is private. Their relationship is simultaneously new and so so ingrained into their life. Affection was always something there, just beneath the surface. And while he had the thing he desired for so long, that doesn’t mean he feels the need to push Dean into a realm of affection that just isn’t fitting of who they are together. Leaning forward, he captures Dean’s lips in a kiss. He tastes like eggnog and candy cane.

Castiel understands all the more that happiness is in the being. And he no longer fears his joy. Because he can’t imagine being happier than holding Dean beneath these lights and knowing that they still have tomorrow and so many days to come. There is no better present than that.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

The Musician Next Door

[Close enough for me, Gif credit to @jensenacklescious]

Square: Vancouver ( @supernatural-jackles tell a story bingo)

Pairing: Jensen x Reader

Summary: The reader is an extra on Supernatural, and has a musical talent. But little did she know her music attracted the attention of her neighbor.

Warnings: Nothing bad, just fluff, sweet music (I recommend searching on YouTube to listen to while reading), and some comedy.

Word Count: 1,860

Main Masterlist

Bingo Masterlist

Mobile Masterlist

A/N: A small teaser of a possible series I have in mind thanks to Jensen’s recent Instagram post. But this is not going to be the series, it’s something similar. But still, I hope you like it. :3

~

She’s always wanted to come to this city. Well she’s always wanted to go to Canada, Vancouver was just the plus side.

And, an ever more plus side was the job she managed to grab. An extra on her favorite show. Supernatural.

Sure it was its last and final season and they were finishing up but with having a limited number of extras due to the pandemic she was one of the few they needed.

She drove down the towns streets, seeing it’s lights shimmer in the night. Making her smile softly at the scenery. Another reason she loved Vancouver. It was such a beautiful city.

She got to her apartment complex, the same one her friend lived in. And she learns quickly who her neighbors are.

After getting rather bored on day 3 into quarantine, she looked at her music set. She knew how to play piano and guitar.

She turns on the electric piano, picking the grand piano setting she begins to play with a few keys. Playing nonsense sounds, but a pleasant melody.

She then began leading into one of her favorites. Her favorite anime show, Inuyasha, playing his lullaby piano song.

Playing at the pace of the song, relaxing as she continued to play. After finishing one verse she began singing lightly with the music.

She began to slow the music as it came to a close. She paused for a brief second before playing more.

She began to play Beethoven’s Moonlight Sentra first movement. And blending the end of it with Supernatural’s Dean’s Family Dedication Theme song.

A tear slipping down her cheek as she remembers this is the last time the show will air. She knows how it will end. They all knew. She doesn’t like it, but she didn’t voice it.

She finished the song with a nice peaceful and gentle end. Till her phone buzzed.

“That was beautiful sweetheart, can I make a request?”

The number belonging to Jensen Ackles. Her heart fluttered in her chest. Turns out he was her neighbor. Who would have thought she had an audience of one listening.

“Sure, what would you like to listen to me play…or attempt to play?” she texts back.

She saw him read it quickly before seeing the jumping three dots, showing he’s typing something.

“I am working on a song for my second album, if I send you a sample of it, could you try to bring it to life on the piano?”

Her heart rate skyrocketed. A song that hasn’t even been released yet, but also still in the works she was going to listen to.

“Sure, let me see what you got.” She texts.

He sent her the audio file to her phone promptly, playing it on her headphones, she can hear the notes coming to her.

Giving it a few play throughs, listening intently to the notes on the guitar, his words being sung. She looked at her keys on her piano and began playing around. Until she found the right notes.

Learning the piano, she didn’t learn the traditional way. She taught herself. Just messing around on the family’s grand piano, she learned the simple twinkle little star. Then an armature Amazing Grace. She had an ear for music, she let the music flow through her like wind blowing through her hair. The way the breeze felt on her skin. Making music felt like that to her.

She began playing the song, even singing the song to help her timing with the next verse and the next verse after that.

Once finished, she noticed it had gotten late.

“It was nice playing for you Jay, but I need to head to bed.”

“Okay, goodnight. Sleep well.”

 All throughout quarantine she had been playing with her instruments. Entertaining Jensen mostly, but it also relaxes her.

But on their first day on set, after being tested and gotten the okay to head on the sound stage for blocking she went to see Jensen.

Seeing him and Jared walking together to the sound stage, she couldn’t help but chuckle to herself at how much like brothers they were.

“There she is the little musician next door.” Jensen says, coming to her, wrapping an arm around her.

“He told me you play piano, do you really?” Jared asked.

“I do a little bit; it’s been a while.”

“Well, it’s like riding a bike. You never forget. You were so good.” Jensen comments.

“Aw, thanks Jay.”

“Got any new songs to play tonight or…can I make a request again?”

“You can always make a request. Besides, I was writing this song and I just need to get the notes right, the words right and then I’m posting it to my YouTube Channel.”

“Doing YouTube now, huh?”

“Yeah, I’m trying it out. I can’t seem to enjoy a single day job I get. I enjoy jobs like this. Acting, where I can tell a story. Writing, where I can create the story. Music, just creating good sounding, relaxing and calming music.”

“You are such an amazing creator; I think you’ll do great as a YouTube creator.”

“You think so?”

“Totally, right Jare?”

“For sure, hey, do vlogging, give us a behind the scenes.”

“I’m not sure about vlogging, that requires being in front of the camera.  And I’m so camera shy.”

“Yet you’re an extra on Supernatural.” Jensen smirks.

“Okay, maybe…I don’t know what it is. But I just don’t want to vlog, okay.”

“It’s okay.” Jared says.

 Later that day, she can’t get her thoughts together back at the apartment. She paced back and forth. From the kitchen to the balcony and back around. She was beyond distracted.

“Jay, are you available for hanging out for a little. I can’t focus.” She texts him.

A moment passes when she thought he might have been busy.

“Yeah, just had to get a pizza out of the oven. Want to come over and just chill for a bit?”

“Sure, I just can’t focus on my music right now.”

“It’s fine. Come on over.”

Putting on her shoes she walks over next door to Jensen’s apartment.

Knocking on the door she hears his dog barking.

“Quiet Icarus.” She could hear him beyond the door shushing his dog. Making her chuckle.

“Hey,” he says opening the door. “Come on in.”

She enters, taking her shoes off at his door.

“Want some pizza?”

“Sure,”

Jensen grabs two plates out, giving each two slices of pizza. And walking over to the couch. Turning on his apple tv.

He turns it onto Netflix, Orange is the new black.

But halfway through his second slice he notices she’s not paying attention to the tv. But instead is looking outside. Eating in silence.

“What’s on your mind?” he asks kindly.

“A lot. Stuff going on at home. This whole YouTube thing being real, I just don’t know what I’m doing anymore. It just seems like I’m just going with it.”

“Nothing wrong with going with the flow. But, this stuff at home, how bad is it?”

“It’s nothing bad, I can handle it. it just takes a lot of mental power to get myself past it. You know.”

“For sure.”

They sat back in silence.

“Here, how about we go for a little walk on the town. That should help relax you a bit.” Jensen suggests, as he finishes his pizza. Y/N not even halfway through her first slice.

“Where to?”

“Nowhere, just out for a little relaxing walk. Come on, and grab a jacket it’s supposed to be a little chilly.”

 Jensen may not have had a destination in mind, but he knew one place that would help her relax.

The ports, anywhere where there was ocean. He noticed in her posts on Instagram, when she’s at a tropical beach she looks relaxed and at peace with everything. And she knew deep down, once she saw the sun setting by the waters and seeing what they were walking up towards, she knew that he knew.

She felt herself calm at the sight.

“See, you look relaxed already.”

“Thanks Jay, I really appreciated this.”

“It’s not a problem.” he says. Leaning kissing her atop her head with an arm wrapped around her shoulder.

“That jacket’s not warm enough, is it?”

“No, not really.”

A small shiver shook through her as she said that.

He chuckles. “Lets get you home and warm you up.” he says, leaning in, pecking a sweet kiss on her cheek. A centimeter too close to her lips.

Y/N looked up at him with a smirk.

“What was that?”

“It was a kiss, why…”

“You were a bit close to my lips Jay…are you trying to tell me something?” she gives him a playful smirk.

“Okay,” he rubs the back of his neck. “I may like you, since the first day you and I met on set. You kind of took my breath away.”

Her heart pounded in her chest as her face heated up at the comment. Making Jensen smile with a chuckle.

“I, uh…I like you too Jay. I thought it might be a crush thing but, it just wouldn’t shake. I really, really like you.”

Jensen had a smile that went from ear to ear. He brought her in a tight embrace, holding her close.

“I know what you’ve been through. And I want to be there for you, to help you through it all.” He says.

“Thank you Jay, I want to be there for you too.” She says.

She pulls away slightly to look up at him. She could see his eyes glide down from her eyes to her lips as he slowly leans in. Planting a soft kiss fully on her lips.

Their lips moving in a soft dance with each other, his tongue grazing her bottom lip silently asking for permission. She parts her lips at the right moment to allow him in and dominate her mouth in the kiss.

Just when their kiss grew hungry, and their skin began to heat up at the attraction and arousal.

“Finally!”

They pulled away, stunned at the exclamation. Seeing Jared walking down the sidewalk, facetime on revealing Misha.

“It’s about time you two got together!” Misha shouted on the phone.

Y/N’s face heated up once again, hiding against Jensen’s chest. Jensen chuckling.

“Yeah, finally you two can stop with the longing stares and the…does she like me? Does he like me?” Jared says.

“How’d you know we came down here?”

“I didn’t, I saw you and I saw her, and I couldn’t help myself.” Jared smiled.

The couple chuckling.

“You two were being such idiots.”

“Well, we can be idiots together, now, do you mind?” Jensen says.

“Oh, right, get back to making out with your girl. See you two on set, you better have hickey’s to show for it!” Jared shouts as he walks away.

Jensen and Y/N just rolling their eyes, giving each other a quick chaste kiss before walking back to the apartment.

Only he walked back with her to her apartment and sat with her as she played her music, even joining in turning it into a sweet duet.

~

a/n: What’d you think? Let me know, feedback is always appreciated.

~

Dean/Jensen Girls:

@pandazombie69, @luci-in-trenchcoats, @supernatural-jackles, @becs-bunker, @jayankles, @winchesters-favorite-girl, @mlovesstories, @akshi8278, @flamencodiva, @megzdoodle, @anotherspnfanfic, @misfit0118, @shawnie74, @missmemoire09, @racetrackheart, @spnbaby-67, @moonlight-on-her-skin, @backseat-of-deans-67chevy, @salt-n-burn-em-all, @lyarr24​

~

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[rowyn-writes]

Cinnamon and Sugar

Chapter Three

Warnings: language, fluff, mentions of a toxic relationship, small angst

Characters: Dean, Reader, Benny Lafitte (mentioned only)

Pairings: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.8k

Dean let you sit in his car until the rain let up a bit. "God, I hate the rain." He grumbled.

"I love it." You whisper, your eyes wandering the parking lot. "When I was younger, and there was a thunderstorm, me and my siblings would make a fort and huddle underneath it together. We loved it when the power would go out. We would light candles and grab flashlights and play board games in the dark. Sometimes Andrew would read to us. But uh - it would be scary stories," You smiled. "He would scare the ever living crap out of us. Lena and Josh would would cuddle into my side, no matter how much I hated it, they would still do it."

"You really love your siblings." Dean noted, swallowing hard, memories of Sam flooding his head.

"I do." You nodded. "They're all I have. Sure, I have my parents, but it's not the same, you know? Growing up, my siblings and I fought like dogs and cats, but we knew each other better than anyone, even our parents. Even when I go months without seeing them, when we all get together, it's like we're still little kids, ya know? We goof around, we argue, we joke. It's like none of us ever grew up."

Dean stayed silent for a moment, and you weren't sure if your message was getting across. "Look, I know we don't know each other very well, but what I'm trying to say is, call your brother. I don't know what happened between you two, but it's obvious that you love him. You shouldn't waste all your time worrying about whether you should contact him first or if he's angry with you. Time is a precious thing and people often waste it."

"Damn, you're wise." Dean gave a quiet chuckle. "But you're right. I will call him soon, I'm just not ready yet." And with that, the Impala was enveloped in silence again. That is, until Dean's stomach let out a loud rumble. "Sorry," He apologized with a sheepish grin.

"Don't worry about it." You shrugged. "It looks like the rains letting up. Do you want to come inside and I can fix you some food?"

"Oh, I don't want to impose." He shook his head.

"Nonsense. You gave me a ride home, this is the least I can do."

Dean silently debated whether or not he should take you up on the offer, but ultimately agreed, seeing as he was starving. By the time you were under cover, you were both soaked.

As soon as you opened the door to your apartment, you were met with a warm blast of heat. A pleasant shiver ran down your spine.

You began to click your tongue, calling out for your moody cat. "Storm, c'mere buddy." Your cat glared at you stubbornly from his place on the window seal. You rolled your eyes, slipping off your jacket and hanging it over the back of the chair.

"Sorry," You apologized to Dean. "My cat's being a little bitch." The man let out a laugh at your comment. "I gave him a bath and clipped his claws yesterday; now he's pissed at me."

"How in the hell do you cut a cat's nails?" He questioned, his eyebrows furrowed.

"Very carefully." You noticed that Dean was shivering. "Let me grab you a towel. I think I have some of my exes clothes. You're about the same size."

He was going to object when you silenced him with a look. You went to your room and began rummaging around in your draws, eventually finding a pair of black sweat pants and a grey hoodie.

"Try this," You said, handing Dean the clothes. "They should fit. You can change in the bathroom; it's the first door on the right."

While Dean went to change, you did the same. You exited your bedroom dressed in a pair of black leggings and a UK sweatshirt.

You noticed that Dean still wasn't out yet, so you went to start some food. You contemplated on what you should cook before ultimately deciding that mac and cheese would do. It was a comfort food, after all.

It would take a bit longer than usual, since you were making it from scratch, but Dean had said earlier that he had nowhere to be.

"Smells good in here." Dean noted when he walked out of the bathroom. Seeing him in Michael's clothes made your heart stop for a second, and not in a good way.

Dean and Michael had many similarities, the hair color, height, demeanor, etc. And you didn't want to be reminded of that man.

"Thanks," You said nonchalantly. "It's nothing special, but I thought you'd like it."

"So," Dean started, leaning against the counter. "This is a nice little set up you've got here."

"It's not much, but it's home." You shrugged as you stir the pot of noodles. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Storm sneaking around the corner of the kitchen, hoping for some food or a treat.

"How long have you lived here?" Dean asked.

"About five years." You informed him. "Ever since I turned eighteen I've been living on my own."

"How come?"

"You know the thing parents always say? 'As long as you live in my house, you follow my rules'? Well, I didn't like their rules so I got myself this apartment and I've lived here ever since."

Dean snorted. "Yeah, my old man was like that too. I actually did the same thing as you did. 'Cept I came back 'bout a week later." He laughed. "I was too dependent on my dad and brother. I have never lived alone before then; and to be honest, I hate living by myself. I still do."

"You never got roommates?"

"I had a few. There was Mick and Cas. Of course, I can't forget Benny." He grinned. "But they're all gone now."

"Benny?" You mumbled. "As in Benny Lafitte?"

"Yeah, why? You know him?"

"Do I?" You rolled your eyes. "That idiot's my cousin."

"Really?" Dean said excitedly. "I haven't heard from him in ages, how's he doing?"

"He's loving by the coast, and the last I heard, he met some girl named Andrea and he is head over heels in love."

"That's great." Dean smiled. "I really happy for him."

"Yeah, I expect to get an invitation to his wedding so enough. The way he talks about her, you would think he's known her his entire life."

"That's sweet. Benny seems like the guy that falls hard after one date."

"Oh yeah, he definitely is." You giggle. "He calls me after one date and says, 'Y/N, I think I'm in love. If I sent you a picture of a wedding ring, would you look at it and tell me what you think?'"

"No way!" Dean laughed.

"Yes! I had to talk him down from buying an engagement ring! I told him to wait for a year and a half, and then revisit the subject of marriage. Times almost up and he's still fawning over her. But I'm happy for him, he definitely deserves this."

You sprinkled bread crumbs on top of the Mac and cheese before popping it in the oven for a few minutes.

"You put break crumbs on your mac and cheese?" Dean questioned.

"You don't?"

"Never tried it." He shook his head.

"You caveman." You sighed. "I will just have to train you." Dean gave a harmonious laugh, which, in turn, made you laugh as well.

You grabbed a towel and pulled the mac and cheese out of the oven. You scooped some onto a plate and handed it to Dean. Both of you sat down at your small kitchen table and began to dig in.

"Oh my god." Dean said, his mouth full with food. "That is the best mac and cheese I've ever had."

"See? Told you it would be good."

"I'll never doubt you again." He mumbled as he shoveled more into his face.

You ate in a comfortable silence until there was a knock at your door. "I'll be right back." You told Dean as you opened the door.

"Mr. Pierce." You said nervously. "What can I help you with?" You knew what he wanted. And you sure as hell didn't have it.

"You're behind on rent, Y/N. I need the money, or I'll have no choice but to evict you." You felt your heart drop to your stomach.

"I-I don't have it right now. My hours have been cut and I-"

"I'm sorry, Y/N. You're a good girl, but I need someone who will lay rent on time every month. I really hate to do this, but I want you out in two weeks."

"I-It's okay, Mr. Pierce," You assured him shakily. "I understand." And with that, he was gone. You gave a shaky breath as you leaned on the door.

"Y/N?" Dean called, approaching the living room. "What's going on? Are you okay?"

"I will be." You nodded.

"What happened?" Dean questioned gently.

"I just got my eviction notice." You deadpanned. Dean's mouth popped open in shock. "I have to be out in two weeks."

"Crap, sweetheart. I'm sorry. What are you going to do?"

"Couch surf for a while, maybe? I know Jo will let me stay with her for a couple of days, but if her landlord catches me there, he'll throw her out too."

"What about your parents?"

You gave a cold laugh. "No, they'll never let me come home. I would stay with my older brother, but he's overseas right now. So honestly, I don't know what I'm going to do."

Dean stayed silent for a moment before speaking up. "You could come live with me." He suggested.

"Dean, I really appreciate the offer, but I can't impose on you like that."

"It's okay," He assured you. "I have an extra bedroom. And it's not imposing if I'm asking. Besides, like I said before, I hate living on my own."

"Dean, we barely know each other." You tried to reason.

"Hi, my name is Dean Winchester, I'm an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach, and frisky women." You let out a loud laugh. "There, now you know more about me."

"Dean-"

"Just think about it. If you can't find anywhere else to live, my door's always open. I have to go, but here's my number," He said, writing down his phone number on a sticky note. "If you need anything, call me." Dean gave you a small smile before he walked out the door.

You flopped on the couch, staring up at  ceiling. Storm jumped up on your chest, purring loudly. You gently scratched his back. "What should I do, Storm?" You asked. "Would you want to live wYou flopped on the couch, staring up at  ceiling. Storm jumped up on your chest, purring loudly. You gently scratched his back. "What should I do, Storm?" You asked. "Would you want to live with Dean? You seemed to like him." Storm gave a tiny meow, his eyes closing shut. "Real big help there, buddy."ith Dean? You seemed to like him." Storm gave a tiny meow, his eyes closing shut. "Real big help there, buddy."

.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.

Tag List:

Cinnamon and Sugar Tags

@vicmc624 @lovememisha @supernatural-jackles @laycblack

Dean Tags:

@akshi8278​

And if anyone else wants to be added to any tag list, let me know!

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Home Bound (Part 1)

Summary: Dean wakes up in the middle of nowhere Colorado late one night during an ice storm, shoulder dislocated and with no idea how he’s back from the dead. His one and only thought is to keep himself together in order get home to the bunker and figure out what the hell is going on...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,400ish

Warnings: language, angst, injury, mention of character death, mourning, supernatural events

A/N: Written entirely in Dean’s POV. Enjoy!

______

“Ow,” I said quietly to myself. It was dark, middle of the night, and naturally raining. It was cold out, colder than it had been the last time I could remember being out at dark. It must have been winter now which meant it’d been at least a few months. Chuck was dead. Not that he would have brought me back. It must have been Jack. But why bring me back and not the others was interesting.

Cas and Sam were more like fathers to him than I was. I loved the kid, he was family. But I fucked it up a bit too much. He’d always been a scared kid with a million reasons to do the wrong thing and somehow he’d stayed good. I nearly killed him more than once. Nearly did it for what happened with mom. It was an accident and I’d almost pulled the trigger.

“Sorry, Jack,” I mumbled, holding my dislocated shoulder as I walked along the side of the road. “Should have brought back somebody else.”

I took a deep breath, coming up to a telephone pole. I needed to get the arm dealt with and forget about why I felt so crappy. I stopped when I got there and took off my belt, wrapping it around my bicep. I stood back against it and reached behind with my good arm and caught the end of it. 

“Okay, okay, okay,” I said. I made sure my back was as flat as could be and my left arm had room to move. “Okay.”

I yanked the belt hard in front of me, shouting as my arm moved back into the socket. I groaned and let go of the belt, slumping down and grabbing my shoulder, taking big inhales of air.

“That’s better,” I said, closing my eyes for a beat. I knew I had to get up again and off the wet grass. It took a moment but I opened my eyes again and got my belt back on. My hand went back to my arm but it was a dull ache now and I could live with that a lot easier. There was still nothing around but dark road, prickly icy rain and trees. “Jack. Show up already.”

I spun around, rain bouncing off the pavement. I’d probably walked two miles from the field I’d woken up in. It wasn’t where I’d died, that was for sure. 

“Maybe I’m actually dead,” I said. “That would make sense...but my shoulder wouldn’t be dislocated if that were true. Fuck, get your ass down here kid. What the Hell is going on?”

It was quiet as I stepped back onto the side of the road and kept walking along. There hadn’t been a single car so I was probably out in the middle of nowhere. If Y/N or Sam or anybody had done anything, I’d assume they’d be waiting for me. Not to mention how Sam was standing right beside me when Chuck threw out that force blast thing or whatever it was. He would have died too. Cas had already been gone but he knew it would happen for the plan. Y/N was a damn idiot and did my part of things. She was so fucking stupid. She should have...

“We both knew that neither of us were walking away from that fight. But I didn’t want to have to watch you die and now...I told you not to get in front of me and you died for it. So thanks for that.”

I clenched my fists, wiping off my face. I shook my head. I could be upset later. Something was going on. Something brought me back. The other crap I’d deal with once I knew what the hell was happening.

After another ten or so minutes there was a rumble behind me. I glanced back over my shoulder and turned up my jacket collar, hearing the car slow as it got closer. I kept walking when the lights hit me and cascaded along the road. 

“Hey,” I heard when the car came to a crawl beside me. I kept my head low and heard the car stop. “You need a ride or something?”

“I’m good,” I said.

“You know town isn’t for like, ten miles right?”

I stopped and looked inside the car. There were three guys in there, all around my age, two of them bigger looking. 

“Come on.”

“I like to walk,” I said, taking a few steps.

“You’re gonna be a popsicle,” the driver said. “You ain’t even-“

“I’m not looking to be in Deliverance tonight so get lost,” I said. I heard him park the car and I frowned when he got out. “Leave me alone.”

“Sorry but no. Me and my friends ain’t gonna hurt you. I don’t know what’s going on with you but you are not alright. It’s freezing out. I don’t know how you got out this far on your own-“

“Fuck off,” I said. The other car doors opened and I took another step away. No way could I take all three with a bad arm. 

“He looks upset,” said the one from the backseat.

“Hey. I’m Sam and-“

“Sam?” I asked, the driver nodding.

“Yeah. I’m Sam and these are my buddies Jake and Austin. What’s your name?”

“Dean,” I said, debating taking off into the woods.

“Why don’t you let us drive you into town, Dean? It’s not safe to be out here in the dark on your own.”

“I ain’t getting in a car with people I don’t know,” I said. 

“This guy. Geez,” said Jake, arguably the largest of the three. He stepped over and grabbed my arm, pulling me towards the car. “You better not be some psycho axe murderer.”

“Where’s his axe then, genius?” said Sam. “Come on, Dean. At least ride with us for a minute to warm up before you walk again.”

I shrugged off Jake, glaring at him, hoping he got the picture to back off. I reached behind me and was grateful to still find my small pocket knife in the jacket pocket Y/N had sewn in.

“He’s probably on drugs, Samson. Let’s get out of here. I don’t wanna ride in a car with him either,” said Austin. 

“Dude. Just chill. Obviously something happened to this guy,” said Sam. He turned back towards me and I narrowed my eyes.

“I appreciate you trying to help and all but let’s go our separate ways,” I said.

“Could you take a hint? You look like you got your ass kicked. Come on before we all freeze,” said Sam. 

“Whatever,” I mumbled. Knowing I had the knife made me feel a bit better about the situation anyways. I got in the back beside Jake, Sam waiting a moment before he was driving again. They ignored me for the most part aside from Jake who gave me an occasional side eye in the back. We drove for close to twenty five minutes at a good speed and I realized why he made such a fuss about giving me a ride.

“I’m still hungry,” said Austin from the front.

“Mac’s is open,” said Sam. He drove down a quiet little main street and turned to the right, an all night diner with bright lights filling up the dark night. He parked and they all got out, Sam nodding for me to follow. I stretched my arm as I shut the door behind me, still trying to figure out where the hell I was. “Dean, come on. S’on me.”

“I should really get going,” I said.

“Come on. Least you can do for getting my backseat soaked,” he said. I rolled my eyes but followed him over to the door, the other two already in a booth. I sat down beside Austin, Sam taking the spot across. A waitress came over, all of the men rattling off dishes without even looking at a menu.

“Who’s your friend boys? Better looking than you three put together,” she said with a soft little smile.

“This is Dean. He’ll take a burger with tomato soup and grilled cheese. Extra hot,” said Sam.

“I’ll grab you a dish towel from the back. Your hair is dripping,” she said to me. I nodded and tried to wipe the water away that was soaking down my neck and into my damp shirt. She was back quickly with a few beers and a towel for me, the other three chatting about some basketball game or something.

“So how’d the hell you get all the way out there?” asked Austin. I set the towel down on the booth behind us, swallowing as I sipped from my glass of water. “You didn’t walk all the way from Jefferson did you?”

“Guys. Dean’s having a rough night. Let’s not play twenty questions with him,” said Sam. He gave me a smile and it reminded me of Sammy for a split second. I closed my eyes, an overwhelming urge to start freaking out hitting me. It wasn’t later yet. I’d learned nothing and there wasn’t any time to be wasted getting upset.

“Your girl break up with ya and leave you on the side of the road? I bet that’s it,” said Jake. 

“Dude. What’d I just say?” asked Sam.

“Well he’s upset and pretending not to be,” said Jake.

“She was in an accident. She and my brother, my family. I just needed to walk,” I said. They all stared at me and I was tapping my wet boot on the ground, wanting to get some food in me and get the hell out of there.

“I’m sorry man,” said Austin. “You okay?”

“Need to get home is all,” I said, taking another sip of water.

“Where’s that for you?” asked Sam.

“Lebanon,” I said.

“Where’s that?”

“Kansas.”

“You’re in Colorado right now you realize,” said Jake.

“Lay off,” said Sam, bumping his elbow into Jake’s ribs. “Hey. I uh, I got a spare cot in the garage if you want to crash there tonight. It’s not pretty but it’s warm.”

“I gotta go home,” I said.

“Well you’re not gonna get far in an ice storm on foot in the middle of the night.”

I shook my head and was silent the rest of the time we waited for the food to arrive. Sam looked at me every so often but the three of them left me out of the conversation which I was grateful for.

Forty five minutes later Sam had dropped Austin off at home and it was just the two of us in the car. He looked in the rearview and I sighed.

“My place is just around the corner,” he said.

“Why are you so-”

“Cause my fiance died last year and my family’s been through hell long before that. I get it. You don’t want to talk, that’s fine. But you need food and a roof over your head at the very least. I was way worse than you pal. Without those two, I wouldn’t be here anymore. So do you really want out of this car or do you want a warm bed for the night?”

“I’ll be gone before you get up,” I said. He shrugged and drove down the street for a ways, making a few twists and turns, eventually stopping at a modest little cottage style home. I got out after him, following him into the dark house. He flipped on a light and cut through a hallway, opening a door to reveal a semi-full garage.

“Cot is on the shelf. You can take the couch in the living room if you want but you seem to bite my head off at every little thing so you can decide,” he said. He started to leave and I shut my eyes.

“Sam,” I said. I turned around and he gave me a careful smile. “Why would you let a stranger stay in your house?”

“Cause I remember Dean Winchester. Rugaroo. Kansas City. House with the blue front door,” he said. “Saved my parents lives. The ride and meal was cause I’m a nice guy. You can stay in my house for saving my parents.”

“Losing your fiance, that really happen?” I asked. 

“Yeah. Really fucking sucks,” he said. He pulled the garage door shut and showed me where to put my boots and jacket. He left for a minute and returned with some dry clothes. “Bathroom is right there.”

“Thanks. Samson,” I said as he tossed a blanket on the couch for me to use. He stood up and his eyes looked sad when they caught mine. “Sorry for being a dick.”

“You’re grieving. You have a right to be a dick,” he said. “Stick around in the morning and I can help you get home. You don’t got much for cash from the looks of it.”

I nodded and he left, pattering around in a room down the hall for a few minutes before it got quiet. I went to the bathroom and put on the dry clothes, hanging mine in the shower and hoping they’d be better in the morning. I washed off my face and found some pain medicine in the drawer for my shoulder, throwing it back before I planted my hands on the counter and took a shaky breath.

“Later,” I said, running my hand over my face and leaving, going back to the couch. I laid down and pulled the blanket over myself. It was warm and smelled nice, something Y/N would like probably. “Jack. If you brought me back, I could do with a talk right now buddy. I’m not mad, I promise.”

The house remained silent and I rolled over to my side, face jammed against the cushions. I wasn’t sure what was going to be waiting at home but I was starting to doubt whether ‘later’ could last until then.

_________

A/N: Read Part 2 here!

[supernatural---imagines]

Christmas Lovin’ (Sam Imagine)

You and your boyfriend finally get some alone time on Christmas eve for the first time in a long time and you’re very grateful for it. Smut and Fluff! (Smut between * if you want to avoid) 

"Caught us a case!" Dean chirped as he busted into the bunker library where you and Sam were chatting over some coffee. He pulled out a chair beside his brother and set the news paper in front of him.

"Dude, it's Christmas eve. Can't we just sit this one out? I don't want to be in a smelly motel eating take out on Christmas Day." You explained before even glancing at the case.

"Come on, since when have we celebrated Christmas?" He asked, looking to Sam to back him up.

"Exactly. We don't" You looked at them both, they stared blankly at you. "Since I've been with you guys the worlds been ending every freakin' Christmas and this year.. we're not busy! So let's celebrate it"

Dean took the paper back off his brother and glanced over the case again. You could almost see his thought process on his face as he re-read the lines, trying to fathom which type of monster it was before he'd even done any investigating.

"That does sound nice y/n.. turkey, egg nog, the whole nine. But there are people dying." Dean said with a frown.

"Why don't you go?" Sam suggested. "Bring Cas or Jody.. we could do with some alone time."

"I bet you could" Dean wiggled his eyebrows at Sam, provoking a giggle from you. "Ok, I'll phone around." He stated after a nudge to the ribs from his brother ended the joke.

-

You waved your goodbyes to Dean from the bunker door as he set off to meet Jody and Claire for the hunt. You charged down the stairs past Sam like an excited child and waiting for him at the bottom jumping around.

"Wow I didn't realise how much you hated Dean" your boyfriend joked. You grabbed on to his jacket and pulled him towards you.

"You know I love that pain in the ass.. but I'm so happy to have you all to myself." You pushed Sam'a jacket off his shoulders and he caught the twinkle in your eye as soon as it appeared. He Smirked before leaning down to your lips and capturing you in a kiss.

“I like your thinking” He chuckled as he picked you up and set you down on the world map table while sucking on your neck. Your fingers bunched in his hair as you guided his face back to yours and pushed your tongue into his mouth as the lust took over. 

 * 

He tugged your shirt off over your head between kisses and fondled your bra-less chest with his large hands. He pulled his own shirt off and dropped it at his feet. You admired his body, tracing your hands over his torso. You skimmed over his collar bones and his tattoo before feeling his pecks and finally landing on his abs. He pushed you back onto the table and took your jeans off, before settling his body back over yours and kissing you messily.

His hands traced over your figure and landed in your underwear. His middle finger found your entrance and you lifted your hips up into it as he slid it in as encouragement. He slinked it in and out getting you ready, before he plunged a second finger in and started working you in a circular motion. You groaned in pleasure, begging for more. He angled your body back up-right where he met you with an intense kiss, before he tugged you down off the table and flipped you over. One hand was on his belt buckle fondling with his jeans, and the other was guiding your head down to the table. With his jeans round his ankles and his dick in his hand, he kicked your legs open for him and dropped your panties to the floor. He paused at your entrance with the tip barley in when you sank backwards down onto him, moaning out as he filled you. He leaned down over you with one arm propping himself on the table and the other hand on your hips for grip as he pumped into you. 

“Is this what you had in mind?” He smirked. You nodded in response. 

“You like that?” He asked as his movements got faster and you began to feel yourself starting. He took his hand from your hip and found your throbbing clit. “Do you like that?” He repeated himself sternly as he began to gently rub your clit. 

“Y-yes” you stuttered, barley able to speak with the pleasure that was coursing through your veins. His thrusts got faster as your climax began to build and your walls clamped around him. You moaned face down on to the table as you reached your peak, Sam allowing you to ride it out on his cock before he pulled out and you felt his liquid all over your back as he finished on you. 

*

Hours later you were in the make-shift living room that you had put together one boring weekend. You were laying on Sam’s chest on the large black couch where he was stroking your hair as you watched a Christmas movie together. 

“Hey, it’s past 12. Merry Christmas!” You chirped, tilting your head up to look at Sam. A grin spread over his lips as he looked at the excitement on your face. 

“Can I give you your gift then?” He asked.

“Yes please” You giggled. You sat up off him and watched him as he left the room, to return seconds later with a small gift bag. He sat down beside you and handed you the gift shyly, nervous of how you’d react to it. You launched yourself into him hugging tightly round his neck, bursting with appreciation even before you knew what was inside. 

You opened up the gift bag and laid your eyes upon the long red jewellery box. You gingerly took it from the tissue filled bag and opened, gasping when you saw the beautiful necklace with a diamond pendant hanging from it. 

“Oh my god..” You whispered. He beamed as he watched your face light up with happiness, he lived to see tat look on your face.  You handed him the box and turned around for him to put it on you. His hands that were hours ago so rough on your body were delicately placing this necklace around your neck, barley brave enough to touch your skin. He clasped the necklace around your neck and placed a gentle kiss on your shoulder, before you lay back onto him. He wrapped his arms around your waist and cuddled you tight. 

“Thank you so much. It’s just gorgeous.” You blushed looking down at the necklace. 

“Of course. I’m glad you like it.” He placed another kiss to your temple before giving you a tight squeeze. 

“Guys?” Dean called through the bunker earlier than expected. You sat up and you both looked at the door waiting for him to appear with an explanation. 

“In here!” You called back. Dean came waltzing through the door with not a mark or scratch on him, he definitely hadn’t been hunting. 

“What happened?” Sam asked as he slid the beer cooler over to his brother who was now sitting in an arm chair beside the couch. 

“Well I got there and it had already been taken care of by another hunter. Paper was a week old.” He explained.

“Yeah.. about that”He bowed his head, trying to hold his laughter in.

“What are you talking about?” You asked him. 

“I planted that paper and that case to get Dean out of here for a few hours so I could have you to myself. I knew he’d be back in time for Christmas to celebrate with us anyway.” He explained. Dean started at you both blankly as you attempted to old back laughter failing miserably. “No harm done?” 

“Definitely not.” You chuckled before Sam pulled you into a side hug and kissing your cheek. Dean took a swig of his beer, faux annoyance painted on his face as he averted his gaze from you both. 

“OK kicking me out for a few hours, fine. But at least dispose of the evidence.. I don’t want to come home to your underwear in the main room. That’s our place of work you animals.”  

Your face turned red with embarrassment and Sam dropped his head awkwardly, he looked down at you and gave you a little squeeze. 

“Not so funny now, eh?” Dean chuckled. You threw a pillow at his head for his irritating cockiness. 

“Shut up and watch the movie” You smiled as you sunk bank into Sam. You looked over at Dean who was kicking his boots off ready to settle, and Sam’s warm arms around you made you feel so secure. This was the first Christmas in years you all had a moment to breathe, and you couldn’t have been happier than in this moment. 

[kyber-kisses]

All The Comforts of Home

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: mentions of torture, blood, cursing, spn level gore (but there’s fluff!)

Bad Things Happen Bingo

Square filled: Nightmares

Summary: After the Reader is taken, Sam and Dean come to the rescue but it doesn’t take long for Dean to see that something isn’t right.

A/n: I’m back at it again with Bad Things Happen bingo! Anyways hope you enjoy and feedback is greatly appreciated!

Four weeks.

That’s how you had been missing. That how long Dean had been tearing up Colorado looking for you. Four weeks of total panic and fear as he chased leads back and forth across the front range.

It took four weeks before he finally found a solid lead, one that was currently tied firmly to the chair in front of him and his brother, coal black eyes boring into him as if trying to kill him with just a look.

But all Dean felt as he looked down at this lowlife demon was hot rage, everything in his vision going red.

“Is she alive?” His voice sharp as he gripped the blade tightly in his hand, jaw clenched.

“Is who alive?”

Dean let out a light huff as he shook his head. Did this demon really think playing dumb was going to work on him? “Y/N. Our friend.”

The demon only shook his hanging head, leaning against his restraints. “Y/N, I Don’t know no Y/N.” His answer unfortunately getting him a solid fist in the gut from Dean, doubling him over in pain.

“Try again.”

A sly smirk crossed the demons features as it leaned forward further, eyes suddenly bright. “Aw, does the great Dean Winchester have a girlfriend?”

A low growl rumbled in Deans throat as he swung the chair next to him around, sitting down harshly in front of the vile piece of crap he was working with. “Focus right here-“ he knocked his knuckles against the underside of the demons chin, forcing him to look up. “Right here, or I’ll shove this blade into your goddamn neck.”

The change was almost instant, because it was a universal truth at this point that the Winchester brothers were things monsters told their children about at night. The beasts under your bed. In other words, you did not mess with them if you wanted to keep living. And truth be told, as Dean sat there, he never thought he’d seen a demon crack so quickly. For a second he almost believed it was a poor innocent person he had bound in rope.

“She’s-shes Alive.” It panted, still gasping for air from Deans punch. “She’s our newest pet.”

“Where is she being kept?”

“In the town.”

Growing impatient, Dean drew his hand back before driving the blade into the demons thigh, it’s eyes once more going black as it screamed.

“What town?!”

“Sterling! She’s being kept in Sterling!”

“Sam check for any demonic signs in Sterling.” Dean spoke over his shoulder, eyes still glued to the demon slowly falling apart in front of him.

“On it. You want me to load the stuff into the car?”

“Yeah, I’ll be out as soon as I’m done with this guy.” Slowly rising from his seat, Dean flipped the knife in his hand, pushing the old chair back into its proper spot.

“You gonna let me go now?”

Dean shot the demon an amused look, tilting his head ever so slightly. “You do know who your messing with right? You think I’m gonna let you go? Especially after you took someone I care about?”

“I told you where she was! Now let me out!” The demon barked, rocking forward in the chair in an attempt to get closer to the Winchester. He didn’t get very far before Dean swiftly plunged the blade into his jugular, the point of impact sparking before fizzing out.

“Yeah, not gonna happen buddy.” Shaking his head, he pulled the blade out before wiping it on the sleeve of his canvas jacket. Dean pocketed the weapon before grabbing the last of the duffel bags and heading out the door after his brother.

You were alive. He was going to find you and he was going to save you.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Brave. It was a silly word the longer you thought about it. It meant ready to face and endure danger and pain while showing courage. You were never that while hunting. You were never “ready” for pain and danger. You just barreled through. That’s how the job got done. Bravery never had anything to do with it.

Sam and Dean constantly said you were one of the bravest and toughest people they had ever met. . . But you didn’t feel that way. Not now at least. If anything you were the furthest from it.

The only way you could properly describe your holding cell was that it was clear that it had once been an old meat locker. Massive hooks hung limply from the ceiling, and the cold cement floor beneath your bare feet was stained dark in multiple areas. When you were first thrown in here you had tried everything in your power to get out, and when that didn’t work you changed tactics, doing everything you could just to stay warm in the freezing cell, from push-ups to jumping jacks and everything in between.

But soon the days began to feel longer and with it you began to get weaker. The demons holding you here barley fed you, and even when they did you ended up puking half of it right back up anyways.

Then there was the issue of the demons themselves. You didn’t know how many there were, only that when they came they had a different face each time. They’d slink into the room with their black eyes and bag full of knickknacks and that’s when the real fun for them would begin.

Letting out a deep sigh you curled in your toes, hoping it would generate some warmth, resting your head against the yellowing tile of the walls. Your body felt as though it had been bruised in every corner. Your legs felt shaky and you already knew they could not support your own body weight. Even your head felt heavy. The real pain came in waves though. Just when you thought the soreness was beginning to subside another bolt of pain shot up your spine. Your back arching as the pain rushed through your body like an ignited fire, your eyes squeezing closed as your face contorted.

You didn’t know exactly what they were doing to you, but what you did know was that you had never experienced such pain in your life.

You could feel your head spinning as you leaned forward, grabbing fistfuls of hair. You pulled on it in a futile attempt to direct the pain away from the rest of your body. Thankfully after a moment it began to work and you dropped your hands once more, ignoring the tremble in them.

Pain. You had been experiencing it for so long now that you couldn’t even remember what it was like to not feel it.

Tucking your legs closer into you, you curled back up in the corner you had grown so familiar with, resting your head against your inner forearms as you let your fingers tangle in your hair.

You just wanted to go home. You didn’t even know why the demons wanted you in the first place. You weren’t anything special.

Head still in your arms you felt the first pricks of tears in the corners of your no doubt already red eyes. But that’s all that happened. You were to dehydrated and tired to actually cry.

Home. Just think about home.

You could feel sleep slowly beginning to take you when you heard the first gunshots echo down the hallway beyond your four cold walls. Suddenly alert you picked your head up, eyeing the door wearily. A moment later another set of shots was heard, this time much closer and you could feel your heart rate increase.

The muffled sound of boots striking concrete echoed down the hallway, and before you could come up with a proper plan, there was another bang and the massive metal door was kicked open, your reflexes making you scramble back in fear.

“Y/N?!”

Dean entered the room like a living storm, gun still raised in defense as he scanned the room. Only lowering his weapon when his eyes found yours. His heart instantly breaking off into little pieces at the state of you. You were covered head to toe in bruises and cuts. Your skin dirty and smeared with blood.

“Y/N-“ he breathed out again, tucking his gun back into his waistband as he quickly crossed the floor towards you, shedding his jacket as he did. “Sam, I found her!” Being as gentle as he could, he wrapped the canvas material around your shoulders, kneeling down to do so.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, Yeah. Sam and I came to get you out of here. How does that sound?” Giving you a small smile he smoothed back your hair, getting the stray pieces out of your face.

“Good.”

“Okay. Can you walk?”

“I-I think so.” You nodded, bracing one hand on the wall and grabbing Deans outstretched palm in your other, slowly pushing yourself up onto wobbly legs.

“There we go. That wasn’t too fast was it?” Dean questioned, keeping a hand on the base of your back to keep you steady.

“No.”

Taking a deep breath, you took a step forward- only for your legs to quickly buckle underneath you. Fortunately Dean was quicker and his own knees bent as he wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping you from falling.

“Okay, alright. Take it slow.”

“Dean, how is she- Y/N!” And just like his brother, Sam was suddenly at your other side. A look of concern filling his features as he helped support you.

“We gotta get her out of here. Get her some place warmer than this freezer.” Dean sighed, adjusting his grip on you as he looked down at you.

“Here, I got her. You go ahead of us and make sure we cleared this place out.” Sam nodded, watching as his brother hesitated before agreeing.

“Okay, okay. Y/N, I’m gonna pass you to Sam. That alright?”

“Mhmm.”

Slowly unwinding his arm from his waist, he allowed you to fall into Sam’s arms. Only pulling his gun back out once he knew you wouldn’t drop.

“Alright, and up we go.” With one swift movement Sam hoisted you up into his arms, cradling you close to his massive frame. “This okay, Y/N?”

You let out a small groan before replying with a soft yes, all the sudden movement quickly reminding you of how sore you were. How battered.

You just wanted to go home. You just wanted everything to go back to normal.

You wanted to feel better.

*. *. *. *. *. *.

The motel room was quiet as Dean and Sam helped stitch you up. Quiet to the point in which neither of them were bold enough to say anything in attempt to break it.

Dean would have preferred driving through the night to get back to the bunker, but you deserved to sleep in an actual bed and not in the back seat of Baby. So instead the three of you found yourselves at some dinky motel right off of 36 and just outside Atwood Kansas.

“I’m sorry if this hurts.” Dean sighed, threading the needle through what he guessed was the eighth gash he had worked on since they began patching you up.

“I’m fine.”

At your words, both brothers paused their work to share a concerned look. Ever since they found you, you had been repeating those two words like a broken record, your voice monotone and calm.

“You don’t look fine.”

“Dean-“ Sam sighed a warning as he finished bandaging your calf, dropping the extra materials back into the first aid kit.

“What? I’m just stating a fact.” Dean shot back, still focused entirely on the gash on your shoulder blade, his fingers working gently to finish the stitches.

He didn’t mean to snap. Really, he didn’t. He was just worried. Really, really fucking worried. It was clear that you were anything but fine. You barley spoke and if he was being completely honest, when he looked at you it was like looking at a husk. You weren’t yourself. He was hoping that once they got some food in you and some sleep you might slowly come back to them, but you didn’t.

“It hurts.” You mumbled suddenly. Your words making Dean pull his hands away from his work in fear that it was his doing, before he realized you were talking about your actual injuries.

“I know, Sweetheart. I know. Those painkillers Sam give you kickin in yet?”

“I think so.”

“Well those things will conk you right out. You should sleep like a baby.” Dean let out a light chuckle as he finished his work. The snapping of the first aid kit  telling you he was done.

Running a hand through hair you could still feel it was damp from the shower you had taken earlier to clean the blood and dirt off of you. It felt good to be clean, but you still didn’t feel right. You still didnt feel like you. As you stood up Dean was at your side once again, helping you across the room towards the bed.

That was another thing. From the the moment they found you Dean had been a constant. Never wavering from your side unless you were taking a shower or going to the bathroom. All he wanted to do was help, and you gladly let him. The comfort and safety he gave off being greatly welcomed after four weeks of pure agony.

“You need Me or Sam to get you anything?” He asked lightly after helping you get situated on one of the motel beds.

Fidgeting with the hem of the shirt Dean had lent you, you shook your head. “No. I’m okay. Thank you though.”

“Okay. You promise you’ll tell us though if you do?”

“I promise.” You nodded, giving him the faintest of smiles as you did so. The action being enough to give Dean some relief, even if only for a moment. You were still in there.

“Alright, get some sleep. You need it.” Leaning down he pressed a gentle kiss to your hairline before retreating back to the table Sam was seated at. Before his butt had even hit the chair he could see that you were already out. Your eyes closed as you pressed your face into the pillow.

“I’m worried about her.”

“I know, Dean. So am I.”

Prying open the cap to his beer, he leaned back in his seat. “She’s the strongest person I’ve ever met, Sam. I’ve never seen her like this.”

“Well being tortured doesn’t exactly leave one walking away with good memories, Dean.”

At the word torture Dean felt himself flinch. His stomach rolled at the mere thought of some creature carving into you. He should have taken his time offing each one of those demons, drawn out their suffering a little longer because of what they inflicted on you.

“She didn’t deserve that.”

“You’re right. She didn’t. But at least she’s alive. I know she’s not okay, but we need to give her some time. Let her heal.”

“God, I know. I know.” Setting the beer bottle back down, Dean ran his hands through his hair. “I just want her to be okay.”

There was a moment of silence before the younger Winchester spoke up again. “You should tell her.”

“Sam-“ Dean warned, lifting his head from his hands to glare at his brother.

“I’m serious. When she gets better you should tell her how you feel.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Shaking his head Dean pushed himself out of his seat before grabbing his duffel and heading towards the bathroom to change. Doing anything to avoid the topic at hand. “Just go to bed, Sam.”

*. *. *. *. *. *.

Dean didn’t sleep in a bed that night. Usually he bunked with you but he was afraid he might nudge or kick you and hit one of your bruises or stitches, and he decided against sharing a bed with Sam because the giant took up most of the bed anyways. So instead he wrapped himself in one of the spare blankets usually hanging from the foot of the bed and slept between the two mattresses. Sure he could have taken the couch but it was too small for his 6’1 body, plus he wanted to be close to you in case you needed something. Sam insisted that you would be fine, but Dean refused. The hunter not going to bed until the little neon clock on the nightstand blinked 1:30 AM.

He had maybe been asleep half an hour when things took a turn like he had been fearing. A loud scream from your lips suddenly pierced the still air of the motel room, sending both boys upright as they whipped their guns out from beneath their pillows. There was a sharp thud as you fell off the other side of the bed and Dean was on his feet in seconds, eyes wide and alert.

“Y/N!”

Peering through the dark room, he could see your silhouette scramble back until your back hit the wall with a sharp thud.

Nightmares. That was the only thing that could come to Deans mind. It was the only thing that made sense in the otherwise safety of the motel room. Tossing his gun onto Sams bed he quickly vaulted over the mattress dividing the two of you, sinking to his knees in front of you as he wrapped his hands around your wrists.

“Y/N! Y/N, it’s me. It’s Dean.”

“No! Don’t- don’t touch me!” You screamed, flinching away from Deans desperate touch. At this point Sam has gotten out of bed, flicking on the bathroom light so they could somewhat see. Your eyes were wild, and your breathing was fast and shallow. Your whole body trembling with uncontrollable fear.

“I’m not going to hurt you.” Dean spoke gently, sliding his hands from your wrists and into your palms. It was only when your eyes finally met that he scooted himself behind you and pulled you between his legs, your back resting against his chest as his arms wrapped around you. “Listen to me. You’re safe and they aren’t going to hurt you again. I’m here now. Trust me, I won’t let anybody hurt you.”

Dean almost expected you to launch yourself out of his arms in panic but you didn’t. Instead he felt you slowly begin to relax in his hold, tears collecting on the sleeve of his Henley as you let out a breath. “I-“

“It’s okay.” Dean shushed you, pulling you further into his lap as he let you calm down. “It’s okay, I’m here.”

“Dean-“ Sam began only to be waved off by his brother.

Cradling the back of your neck, Dean allowed you to rest your head in the crook of his, the hunter placing a soft kiss to your shoulder as he smoothed your hair.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It was a nightmare. We all get em.”

“No. I’m supposed to be brave, but I’m not. I’m not brave.” Your sobs coming back as your fingers twisted into the fabric of Deans Henley, using it as somewhat of a lifeline.

“Woah, don’t say that. That ain’t true at all.” Dean quickly interjected, pulling back to look you in the eyes. His hand moving from the back of your neck so he could thumb away your tears. “You’re the bravest person Sam and I know, and the strongest.”

“It’s a lie. Those demons broke me, Dean.” Shaking your head you ignored the crack in your voice. “They broke me.”

“No. No they didn’t.” By this point he had your face cradled between his two hands as he looked at you fiercely. “Sure, they may have put a few dents in ya, but they didn’t break you. You’re like polished freakin steel. It’s gonna take a lot more than a few low level demons to bring you down.”

Your lips parted as you tried to find words, but none came. The man had stunned you into total silence. . . So instead you found yourself leaning forward once more to wrap your arms around him again, the hunter not hesitating to return the gesture. The breath from his lips lightly tickling your neck as nestled against it.

“Thank you.”

“You don’t need to thank me.”

“But I want to. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you and Sam.”

Even if he denied it later on, you could feel Dean smile against your skin. “Let’s get your back to bed.”

“Only if you promise not to sleep on the floor.”

“Sounds like a good deal to me.” Adjusting you in his arms, Dean picked you up off the rough carpet of the motel room floor, before softly depositing you the nearest bed. Sam was already back asleep by the time Dean turned the bathroom light back off.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?” Dean hummed, sinking down onto the mattress besides you.

“Why did those demons take me?”

There was a pause before an answer came through the dark between you. “They were trying to use you to get to me.”

“. . . Why?”

Another pause.

“Because you’re my weak spot.” Dean swallowed, feeling the next words crawl up his throat with a vengeance. “Because I’m in-love with you.”

The silence that followed made Dean want to jump out the nearest window. For a moment he thought you had fallen back asleep and he let out a sigh of relief, but then he heard you suck in a breath.

“Don’t play with my emotions, Dean. That’s not funny.”

“I swear to you, I would never joke about something like this. I’m in love with you and I have been for quite some time.” Even in the dark Deans hand found yours, the hunter tangling his fingers in your own.

“. . . I- what if I don’t believe you?” You spoke softly.

“Then I’ll just keep telling you until you do.”

“Im just kidding, I believe you. . .But don’t let that stop you.”

“Oh?”

“I love you too.”

“That’s nice to hear.” Dean let out a relieved chuckle at your words, rolling over to loop an arm around you.

“Okay, as happy as I am for the both of you, would the two of you please shut up and go to bed? There’s still one person in this room who is trying to sleep.”

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[fandomout]

Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference - After he left you stranded Part 2

Part 1 Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference- He leaves you stranded (Gender Neutral Reader)  

I don’t own this gif, but all I know is it’s from tenor.

This takes place a around season 5 and 6 just for reference as to some things said and Castiel makes appearance. Angst/Fluff.

“You fucking asshole! You fucking suck!” Although you felt a little better, you looked like a crazy person to the people passing. You covered your shoulders in hopes to lessen the bumps that textured your skin. You were lost in your thoughts when you collided into a body. You looked up to see, but you were barely able to make out their face. Tears were blurring your vision. You wiped one of your eyes, which gave you enough visibility to make out Castiel. You didn’t even bother wiping the tears and simply asked him, “What are you doing here? Did something happen? Are you okay?”

“What I am doing here is that I heard your cries of distress. Also, I was wondering who you were referring to.”

“Don’t worry, I wasn't talking to god, or you, or some angel...just the world...Me and Dean got in a fight.”

“I did see a glance of that interaction, my apologies.”

”You didn’t mean to...Wait, you came because I was crying?”

”Yes. I was wondering what trouble there could be that would make you cry. Through most of our encounters, you’ve seemed very level headed and calm, so it had to be of importance...Well, I assumed.”

“Sorry to disappoint. It’s just relationship drama.”

“Disappointment doesn’t correlate to me and your situation. It wouldn't make sense.”

“I don’t mean it literally.”

“Ah.”

“I’m sorry. You came for nothing.”

“He left you here. Why?”

“Cleary, he doesn't care...enough...if at all.”

“But, you are in a relationship. Are you not? Why would he leave you here if he cared?”

“Hell if I know.”

“Anyway, it is not for nothing that I came. I can provide comfort.”

“I really don’t need it. There’s nothing you could say.”

“But, you need it.”

“There are more important things...you probably need to get back to your war, right?” He replied with a heavy sigh and the words, “I could use the break.”

“Let’s talk about you. It would make me feel better if you felt a little better.”

“How can I feel better?”

“Just tell me how you feel about the war. How’s the war going? I’m sure that’s a stupid question, but I thought it was better than not asking anything. I know we don’t pay enough attention to you on the personal level...I’m sorry we haven’t been able to help you. I’m sorry you have to kill your brothers and sisters…”

“Thank you...You are the only one whose expressed concern to me…It’s simply terrible at all times.” You put a hand on his shoulder and keep walking. ”So, where are you going?”

“I don’t know.”

“I can take you back to where you were residing.” Castiel reaches forward to take your shoulder, but you move back from him before he gets the chance. He furrows his brows and tilts his head at you. A look of pure innocent confusion.

“No. I will tough it out. If he’s just gonna leave me here, I’m gonna make my own way. I refuse to be helped.” 

“Why?”

“For some dignity or pride with a hint of stupidity because it's cold and gonna be a long walk.” 

“I could take you to the motel, and you could call it your way. You are exercising your resource, i.e me.”

“No, Cas. I don’t want to take the easy route. He thinks he can control me and make me feel worse? Nope! I’m gonna get there on my own, and he can't say anything. He doesn't deserve the satisfaction. I walk for me and me only.”

“I do not understand. I do not understand your desire to take the difficult path.”

“Sometimes it’s...it’s worth it. The hard way has its moments. Plus, Cas, you shouldn't have to take me.”

“I want to.” A blast of light strikes before it starts pouring rain. You continue on your pace, unwavering. 

“Has your plan changed?!” Castiel yelled over how loud the rain was.

“Nope! Well-I think I’m just gonna walk all the way to the motel we were at! Get my things and get out of there!”

“That’s a bad plan!”

“Best one I’ve got! I only have $20 on me, and I left my stuff in Dean’s car!”

“You’re going to get sick!” He says, but it gets muffled by the sound of thunder. 

“What?!”

“I said you’ll get sick!”

“So be it! I’ll live!” 

“I should head back!” He looked regrettable because he doesn’t want to go. You give him the best smile you can muster and give him a hug along with the words, “Thank you for being here for me although unintentional!”

“I express my appreciation to you asking about me. Hope you have safe travels; however, unlikely I think it is right now!” You laugh a bit at his words. You weren't sure how to respond, but it didn't matter. You never got the chance to as he flew away. You feel a bit better having talked to Castiel. You're thankful for the rain sympathizing with you, and you think you’ve stopped crying. Determined, you walk all night until you get to the motel at about 6:30 am. You were lucky enough to find someone to check you in. With a very hoarse voice, you say, “Can I get the room key for 321 B? I lost mine.”

“I can't just let you in, lady.” He says firmly.

“You saw me come in with those two big guys.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You leave your hand out ready, but he continues to say, “Still...I can't just give it to you.” You reach forward frustrated and grab him by the collar. You take out the $20 from your pocket. 

“Listen, bud-You either take my $20 and give me the key, or I take the key, forcefully. Your choice.” He reaches for it desperately and hands it to you. You open the door, and you see both Sam and Dean still asleep. You quietly get your things, and you head back to the clerk. He moves to the wall, scared. You put money on the table. 

“Give me a room for one.” He taps uneasily, but does as you say quickly. 

“Thank you.” You go to your new room. Immediately, you head for the water and chug it down earnestly. You sneeze three times in a row and wipe your nose. You change your clothes into warmer attire, which ends in pj’s. You get over to the bed and cover yourself in the blankets. You feel some kind of warmth reach your body, but you can't help still feeling cold. You grab tissue next to yours and have to keep blowing mucus out of your body. 

“Gret.” You said nasally. “I’m fucking sick.” You shrug and close your eyes as your weak and tired body won’t allow anything else to happen.

No One’s POV

Dean wakes up to being shaken harshly. He pulls out his gun from under the pillow and says, “What?” His eyes meet Sam’s, and Sam asks, “Where’s Y/N?” Dean puts his gun down; After sitting up, he tries to respond before he cuts himself off and remembers everything from last night. “They’re somewhere...”, He says pursing his lips and starts putting his clothes back on. 

“Somewhere?”

“Yeah.” He says and puts on his boots.

“What happened?”

“Why are you asking?”

“Clearly, something happened because you won’t give me a straight answer. Where are they?”

“I don’t know.”

“What?!”

“We got in a fight...”

“And?!”

“And I...left them.” He said softly that Sam couldn’t hear.

“What?”

“I left them at the bar.” He said firmly.

“You’re such a dick! Fucking asshole! They're not here! Something could have happened to them!”

“I know! I know…” Dean stood up and looked around the room. His eyes landed on the couch where their bag should be. His mouth became very dry, and his heart panged. “Oh god…” He whispered. 

“What?” Sam asked as he looked in Dean’s direction. As Sam came to the same relaxation, he clenched his jaw, and said, “You really fucking suck!” Dean just walked over to his keys on the counter and headed out the door. Sam hurriedly got his jacket and followed after. “Where the hell are you going?”

“The bar.”

“I doubt they're there.”

“What makes you say that?”

“It’s not like they can stay there all night. It was raining last night too. They can't just sit outside the bar like they’re living there.”

“You don’t know. They could've stayed put.”

“They didn’t get fucking lost! And they’re not some child! You left them there! Left your s/o there!” Dean can only clench his jaw and start the car. As they arrive at the bar, they ask anyone around, but no one knows where they’d gone. Dean got back into Baby and he jerked the steering wheel angrily. “Dammit!...” He let out a breath. “Where would they go?”

“Somewhere to sleep?” Sam tells him with a shrug.

“How’s that work?”

“What do you mean?” Dean gestures to the back where their jacket was. Sam picks it up and looks inside of it to see their phones and wallet. “Great! Just great Dean! You left them without anything! There is no way of finding them.”

“Sam, can you shut the hell up?! I know I messed up! I know I'm the fucking asshole that left his s/o stranded in the rain! I’m fucking selfish!-” He stopped for a moment and his eyes became teary. He looked out the window for Sam not to see him, and in a weak voice said, “Something could have happened...” Dean held the steering wheel until is knuckles turned white. Sam looked at him sympathetically and said, “I’m glad you know. Look, Let’s head back to the motel.”

“What?! We can't just-”

“If you were upset enough to leave them, I know they're more upset. They didn’t try to contact me or anyone, so chances are they figured it out...I mean if nothing happened...They’ll probably be stubborn enough to get back on their own. The bar is far from the motel on foot, but they probably walked, D.” As Sam and Dean pull into the motel, Dean paces around in nervousness. Having done so for about 2 minutes, his eyes end up landing on the small frame of someone by the vending machine. He looked down to their shoes to see the wrecked combat boots he’d been seeing for the longest. He basically jogged up. Sam followed slowly in confusion. Dean’s eyes met their face, and he fully ran over to them. He scooped them in his arms. His arms wrapped over their waist. 

Your POV

Dean let out a shaky breath and smiled. With teary eyes, he reached to cup your face. You moved away from his touch and took yourself out of his embrace. 

“Y/N-”

“Sam, how are you this morning?!” You asked. You were not going to just let him off the hook. While he looked worried, you remembered how unimportant you seemed last night, so you ignored him. In your peripherals, you could see Dean licked his lips nervously. 

“Better. Now, that you're no longer missing. We-” Sam replied and was cut off by Dean saying, “Where the hell were you?!” You ignored his worry and responded, “Sam, you didn’t have to worry. I just got another room for myself this time around.”

“We went everywhere looking for you. Glad you're safe.”

“Than-Achoo!” You put your nose on your sleeve. Dean reached over in calmer composure to grab your arm and tell you, “Come on, red nose, we’ll get you better.” You pulled away from him. You looked toward Sam and said, “I’m gonna get myself something warm and sleep a bit more. I had a loooong night.” You couldn’t help being a little shit since you felt it was owed to you for the shitty night you had before. You padded Sam’s shoulder and told him, “I’m gonna head back to my room see you later.” before you left towards your room. With a heavy heart and footsteps, you were in the need to feel some kind of better since being sick didn’t help.  When you got into your room, you went into the bathroom to take a look in the mirror. “Oh. I do look terrible.” You turned on the showerhead and walked back into the main space only to see Dean. You gave him one more second until you averted your eyes and resumed ignorance of his existence. You were getting clothes when you heard the shower turn off. You rolled your eyes and were making your way back to the bathroom when Dean blocked your path. You sighed heavily and threw you clothes on the couch. You walked back over to your bed, curled into the blanket and tried to get back to sleep. You felt his eyes on you, but you refused to look at him. You felt the bed starting to dip, and you couldn’t help state, “Don’t.”

“We’ve got to talk…” He said delicately. You sat up and looked at him as he shifted nervously in a way that made you just want to go hug him. Instead, you stayed put and found the words, “Talk.” slipping past your lips.

Part 3  Dean Winchester Imagine/Preference - Making up after he left you stranded (Gender Neutral Reader) Part 3

Hope your day got better

[onfreckledwings]

hoping you’ll see (what your love means to me)

15x20 fix-it songfic. shameless feel-good fluff. because our babies deserved the world.

When Dean dies on a Thursday in November, Cas is there to welcome him at the proverbial pearly gates. Sort of.

He can’t really even call it a gate. It’s blue skies, sloping mountains, pine trees, and open fields. The sun shines more brilliantly and warmer here.

The air breathes cleaner; the breeze is cool and languid.

He doesn’t realize he’d been walking until he comes to a stop, dirt swirling around his legs. Nothing hurt: not his hip, not his knees, his back, or chest.

Nothing.

“Well at least I made it to Heaven,” Dean murmurs to himself. In the next moment, Harvelle’s appears a few yards away.

“No way.”

He walks the short distance before standing in front of the bar, and he’s smiling so wide and he can feel his laugh lines on his cheeks and the crinkles of his eyes.

Harvelle’s Roadhouse

The same neon lights in the windows, the same sign. Everything is exactly the same.

“Hell yeah,” and then he’s walking up the porch and has a palm on the door before he stills.

Dean shuts his eyes briefly before opening them with a silent chuckle. He knows who’s there. Even before he turns his head.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turns around to see Castiel standing a few yards away.

He feels his face cracking from smiling so wide, and he feels his eyes stinging with tears behind them. He faces Cas fully now, hands shoved into his pockets, and begins to walk towards him.

He ducks his head, almost shy, and glances up at him through his eyelashes. “Castiel,” he greets with pressed lips, eyes gleaming.

Heaven is strange, he thinks. He feels no sense of unease here. No nerves, no jitters. He only feels contentment. Peace. Joy.

Cas tilts his head in that fucking adorable way he does, and Dean can feel something behind his ribs melt. He stops when they are a few inches apart.

Cas’s eyes are bluer than Dean has ever seen them. Moss green and ethereal blue.

Sky and Earth.

The wind gusts gently around them. The blades of grass dance.

Cas lifts a hand and places it on Dean’s left shoulder. Cas’s shoulder. Dean smiles a small, watery thing.

“Are you...real? How-” and Dean trails off. He somehow already knows the answer. Cas squeezes his shoulder and smiles.

“Yes. It’s me.”

Dean’s eyes well up and his nose starts to tickle. He looks up to the sky and wets his lips in that way he does to hold tears at bay, before meeting blue again.

Dean reaches between them and grips Cas’s always-crooked tie. Cas looks confused at first, maybe even a little scared. But when Dean’s free hand comes to cradle the side of Cas’s neck and lets his fingers brush the strands of thick hair at its nape, Cas’s face smooths out and he stands a little taller.

One lone tear breaks free from the corner of Dean’s eye, and Cas’s thumb is there to catch it as he sweeps it over his cheekbone before cupping his jaw.

Dean tugs him close before snaking his arms around Cas’s waist under his trench coat and hugs him close, face buried in the angel’s shoulder. He melts when Cas envelopes him, cheek resting against his crown, hands rubbing soothing patterns against Dean’s back.

“You’re early,” Castiel whispers.

Dean gives a small chuckle. “Yeah, well...I’m a dumbass.” And then he’s inhaling slow and deep against Cas’s skin. Cas smells like sweet summer rain, the crisp air of fall.

He smells like Cas.

“And I missed you,” he murmurs against the warm swath of exposed skin on the angel’s neck before pressing a feather-light kiss there.

Cas seems to melt at the contact and grips Dean tighter. Dean feels fingers card through the short strands of his hair and Cas’s other hand comes up to cup the back of Dean’s head.

“I missed you too.”

Something occurs to Dean then, and he lifts his head to meet Cas’s eyes. His hands travel up Cas’s arms until they rest on his shoulders.

“Hang on...how did you get out? How did you get here?”

Cas simply smiles and gives Dean a knowing look. “Jack may have had something to do with it.”

Dean unfurls a bark of laughter from his chest before grasping that tie again.

“That’s our boy.”

Cas smiles again, and Dean thinks he’ll never ever tire of seeing it.

His eyes flit between Cas’s and his lips and back again, and he flattens his free palm on Cas’s chest, just over where his heart would be.

“Cas,” he begins, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, “about what you said..before you left-”

“You don’t have to say anything, Dean,” Cas offers quietly. “I don’t expect-”

“Well that’s good,” he cuts Cas off, “‘cause I wasn’t really plannin’ on talkin’. I’m shit with words.”

Cas blinks quizzically. “Wha-” but he trails off when Dean grazes the stubble of his cheeks with the soft pads of his thumbs.

Dean starts to tremble slightly when he cups either side of Cas’s jaw again.

He dives in.

Their mouths slot together perfectly; Cas’s is warm and soft and pliant, and Dean brushes his tongue against the crease of Cas’s lips, and Cas lets him in.

Dean knows then that he’s in Heaven.

*

Everyone’s here.

Dean’s eyes scan the entire barroom from the table where he and Cas sit: at the bar, there’s Ellen, Jo, Ash, Bobby, and Karen discussing their hunting glory days. Charlie and Kevin are huddled with their laptops at one of the booths (because there’s WiFi in Heaven, apparently), and are probably discussing the latest sci-fi series or some other nerdy thing.

John and Mary are sitting at one of the candle-lit tables, holding hands and murmuring in each other’s ears that is always met with soft laughter.

Rufus is there too with Aretha at one end of the bar, Johnnie Walker Blue in hand. Dean doesn’t think he’s ever seen the man smile the way he is right now, so earnest and genuine.

Missouri and Pamela sit at the table nearest to Dean and Cas, talking about when Pamela séance’d Cas after Dean was rescued from Hell.

“I think he was just trying to show off in front of his boyfriend,” Pamela teases with a laugh as Missouri drops her face in one hand.

“Good Lord,” she marvels. “Some first impression there, Castiel. Burning out a woman’s eyes? Oh!”

Cas ducks his head. “It was an accident, I assure you,” and Dean can’t help but feel a little bad for the guy.

Pamela pats Cas on the back. “All in the past, sweetie. No harm done. Well, no permanent damage anyway,” and then tilts her head back in laughter. Dean can’t help but snicker.

Everything is fucking perfect.

Contentedness blooms in his belly, warming his insides until he feels like his body is humming. Everybody he has ever loved and lost in one room.

Sam, Eileen, and the others will be along, Bobby had said. And he feels complete peace knowing that Sam is in good hands, and that they will take care of each other until their times come.

Dean sits back in his chair, glass of wine in hand. They’re a bottle and a half in, celebrating Dean’s arrival, and his head is buzzing in the best possible way.

He glances at Cas from across the table through his eyelashes.

His trench coat, suit jacket, and tie are all draped on the backrest of the chair, because we gotta get you out of this holy tax accountant get up, man, and if he’s honest, Dean wants to feast his eyes a little.

Cas’s white shirt is unbuttoned at the neck, and Dean’s mouth goes a little dry at the naked dip of his collar bone. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, and Dean marvels at the ripples of muscle and bone in the angel’s forearms, his fingers itching to touch.

Dean smiles. His cheeks are warm, and something curious blossoms behind his ribs.

“Dean?”

He snaps out of his trance and meets Cas’s eyes. “Hmm?”

“Are you alright?” Cas asks, and Dean realizes that he’s been caught staring.

Dean smirks. “Mhm. Jus’ enjoyin’ the view.”

Dean almost dies (again) when Cas blushes and ducks his chin with a roll of his eyes.

Yeah, he can get used to this.

The jukebox in the corner starts playing a new song, and Dean straightens in his chair with a wild grin.

“Oh hell yes,” he shouts with a slap to the table, wine bottles and glasses clattering. “I love this song. C’mon Cas, you’re dancin’ with me.” He stands and reaches for Cas with an outstretched hand.

Horror flashes across the angel’s face. “Dean, no. I’m a terrible dancer. I couldn’t-”

“Well, that makes two of us then” he says and grabs Cas’s hand and pulls him to his feet. “Come on. My ‘got-dead’ party, my rules.”

Cas groans and throws his head back with a grimace as he lets Dean guide him to the dance floor. “‘Got-dead’ party? Really?”

“Yeah, yeah, shhh,” Dean smirks as he turns to face Cas. “Here, lemme lead.”

Dean clasps Cas’s hand with his own and draws them to his chest, his other hand wrapping around his waist coming to rest on his back. Cas’s free arm mimics Dean’s.

Attached at the...everything.

Their mouths are inches apart, and Dean’s bowed legs go a little weak as he stares into Cas’s eyes. The lighting in the bar changes to ambient, almost candle-like glow.

Lying beside you, here in the dark,

Feeling your heartbeat with mine.

Softly you whisper, you're so sincere;

How could our love be so blind?

They sway somewhat in tune with the rhythm, but Dean’s a little wine drunk and accidentally steps on Cas’s toes. More than once.

“Sorry,” Dean giggles—giggles?— and lets all of his weight lean into Cas, who accepts it willingly. Dean’s lips press against his temple, and Cas hums appreciatively as Dean starts to sing low into Cas’s ear.

We sailed on together,

We drifted apart,

And here you are, by my side.

So now I come to you with open arms,

Nothing to hide, believe what I say.

So here I am, with open arms,

Hoping you'll see what your love means to me,

Open arms.

“‘s how I feel about you, you know,” Dean murmurs as he nuzzles the bolt of Castiel’s jaw. “I’m not good with words, but..,” Dean slurs and sucks a gentle kiss into his neck. “This could totally be our song.”

“Dean…” and Dean pulls back slightly at the crack in Cas’s voice. Tears spill over from those cobalt blues, and Dean’s thumbs are quick to catch them as he frames Cas’s face.

“Hey, hey. None of that,” he says through a smile, licking his lips. “You’ve got me. You always have. And I’ve got you, so…” he smiles and presses the softest of kisses to Castiel’s mouth before resting their foreheads together.

They never stop dancing.

Living without you, living alone,

This empty house seems so cold.

Wanting to hold you,

Wanting you near,

How much I wanted you home.

Now that you've come back,

Turned night into day,

I need you to stay.

“I love you,” Castiel says, and he brings their joint hands to his lips and presses a kiss to Dean’s knuckles.

Dean squeezes his eyes shut and nods knowingly. It may be a little easier to accept love up here, but sometimes old habits die hard. Even in death.

“Me too,” he murmurs, and he wraps his free arm even tighter around the soft, curved line of Cas’s waist for emphasis.

So now I come to you with open arms,

Nothing to hide, believe what I say,

So here I am, with open arms;

Hoping you'll see what your love means to me,

Open arms.

As the song ends, Dean thinks maybe this could be his forever. Surrounded by family, both given and chosen; blissful in his angel’s arms. The love of his life. The one who has saved him more times than Dean can count. At utter peace knowing that Eileen will take good care of Sam, and he looks forward to the day when they can all be together once again.

Until then, he’ll take this. The life he’s always dreamed of but was too scared to hope for. A life of love, warmth, comfort, and peace.

A life after death.

And he’ll think, maybe, just maybe, he deserves it.

fin.

@blacklightguidesnic tortured me this morning and put this incredibly soft scene in my head. here you go ♥️