#dean and sam fanfic

[moonlight-rider25]

Winchester Girl. Chapter 1

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

Present day, Massachusetts 11:49pm.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You glare towards him with a warning look.

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

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

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

"Pop Tarts?" You ask through a snicker.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~~

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

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

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

"Ahhhh!" 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Finns face peers up at you with a slight scowl. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Thanks!" 

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

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

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

"Fuck!" You blurt out.

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

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

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

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

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

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

 "Mommy!" 

"Right, syrup…" 

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

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

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

Sam folds the bedding up and meets your eye. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He tries to meet your eye, showing his sincerity.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

~~~~

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

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

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

"Mom?" Finn asks from the back seat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He casts you a small, meek smile.

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

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

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

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

“Please?” 

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

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

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

“Hey, come on…it’s not his fault…”

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

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

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

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

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

"Hello?..."

Tags: @nancymcl @123passwort

LMK, if youd also like to be tagged in these!

[saintfaux]

[inknopewetrust]

[goldenispunk]

[colmiillo]

me acting like I just didn't read the most filthy nasty hot smut fic of my life

[supernaturallyafreak]

Those sweet sweet innocent arms need to be wrapped around Castiel softly while he lays there dead awake staring at the wall waiting for Dean to wake up because he refuses to move in fear of waking the angry sleeper. Also I drew y'all a pic of them- do you like my editing skills?

[jellyfishhutcherson]

#NEEDTHAT

[wildwestdean]

impetus

summary: dean gets targeted by a witch while working a case, and she curses him to yearn for what he secretly loves the most. it seems to have no effect, until it's pointed out that he can't seem to stay away from you - but what happens when he tries to fight it?

pairing: dean winchester x female reader

word count: 9.4k+

warnings: violence, hunting/working a case, mentions of murders, gore, evil witches, reader and dean get attacked, swearing, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, yearning, mutual pining, idiots oblivious to their own feelings, magical curses, hallucinations, nightmares, depictions of death, depictions of drowning, fighting/arguments, heart-to-heart, confessions, use of [y/n], nicknames, mature themes

“Right, well, this isn’t creepy at all,” Dean declared, rolling Baby to a stop before switching into park. 

You both sat quietly as you surveyed the desolate building, a feeling of unease washing over you. 

“Maybe we should wait for Sam,” you suggested half heartedly. He was only down at the Sheriff’s station, and it wouldn’t even take ten minutes for him to meet you here, but you knew Dean wouldn’t wait. 

“No,” he said, confirming what you already knew. “Someone else is missing and this is our best lead so far. If you don’t want to go in, that's fine, but I am.” 

“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” you snapped, sitting up as tall as you could despite the pit forming in your stomach. 

“Awe, you worried about me, sweetheart?” Dean teased, turning to look at you with a grin; one that was effectively wiped from his face when he saw the look in your eyes. “Hey, what is it?” 

“I don’t know,” you said honestly, shrugging lightly. “I just have a bad feeling about this.” 

“Bad feeling like what?” he questioned, his brows knitting together. 

You thought about it, trying to pinpoint what it was you felt, but you couldn’t. “Just…. don’t go wandering off,” you ended up saying- begging, more like. 

“Alright,” he agreed easily. “We stick together, and we’ll be in and out before you know it.” 

“Right,” you confirmed with a nod. “Let’s gear up.” 

You exited the car as quietly as you could, making your way around to the back as Dean unlocked the trunk and propped up the panel to the arsenal.

“You and Sam better be right about this,” he muttered, digging out the box of witch-killing bullets. 

Your mind raced through the details of the case: An exsanguinated priest, a dead nun with her tongue ripped out, the president of the high schools abstinence club found without a heart, and various livestock missing various body parts - if this wasn’t a witch, you were a little scared to find out what else it could be. 

“We have to be,” you breathed out, loading your ammo. 

“Can you do me a favour and sound at least a little confident?” he asked playfully, lightly nudging your arm with his own before tucking his gun into his jeans. 

“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, holstering your own gun. 

“It’s alright,” he said earnestly, handing you your favourite knife (one that used to be his before you claimed it as your own). “I’m just not used to seeing you so spooked.” 

You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as you took the knife from him. “I’m not used to feeling spooked.” 

“We’ll make it through,” he consoled, closing up the trunk. “Just like we always do.” 

“Just like we always do,” you echoed with a nod, following him towards the building. 

The overgrowth brushed your calves as you made your way up the walk, and after a quick survey of the facade, Dean swung the door open after picking the lock. 

“Wait!” you hissed, stopping him before he entered. “Sam does know we’re here, right?” 

You watched as his shoulders shrugged before stepping inside. “Probably.” 

“That’s… comforting,” you sighed, following him across the threshold. 

The two of you did a quick preliminary sweep of the main level before making your way to the top floor, finding nothing of significance in any of the rooms. Making your way back down, you both stopped dead in your tracks as you heard a clatter come from beneath you. 

“Of course there’s a basement,” Dean whispered. “Why wouldn’t the creepy ass witch be in the creepy ass basement of this creepy ass house?” 

“How do you know she’s a creepy ass witch?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “Maybe she’s hot. Or a guy. Or both.” 

He faltered over his response, considering your words for a moment. “I’ll bet whatever tab you drink up at the bar once we end up ganking this bitch. She’s creepy.” 

“Deal,” you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 

You both chuckled, before another noise from the basement drew your attention back to the case at hand. Dean awkwardly cleared his throat before leading the way in search of the basement entrance, using the occasional noise as guidance. 

“God, I hate witches,” he muttered to himself, slapping away cobwebs as he descended the stairs. 

“I don’t think the witch put those webs there,” you said with a snicker. 

“No, they’re just the one turning this rotting corpse of a house into a lair of evil and despair,” he hissed. 

You rolled your eyes in response, unable to stop the fond smile from creeping onto your face as you made it to the bottom of the stairs. 

A muffled cry caught your attention, and Dean spared you a quick look before running in the direction it came from, you hot on his heels. Coming up on a corner, he slowed to a halt and peered around the wall. 

“It looks clear,” he decided after a moment. “Just be careful,” he added, continuing on his way. 

Upon turning the corner, you were enveloped in the warm glow of candles, which would have been nice, had it not been for the rest of the scene. An altar lay at the far wall, burning candelabras stood in each corner of the room, and the very person you were searching for was bound and gagged in a chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by a circle of candles. 

Dean cursed and muttered under his breath, surveying the room. “I’ll get him, you get the altar.“

“Okay,” you agreed, running across the room. Once you reached the altar, you couldn’t help but stare in shock and disgust for a moment as you took in the sight; all the missing body parts seemingly staring back at you from where they lay soaked in blood. It took Dean shouting your name from across the room to bring you back to your senses, and you quickly upturned the altar as Dean instructed the now freed man to get out as fast as possible and wait by the car. As soon as the contents of the altar were scattered, an ear piercing shriek came from behind you. 

Quickly whirling on your heels, you were greeted by a cloaked figure, who seemingly came out of nowhere. 

“What have you done?” she screamed, dropping her hood as she stared daggers into you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned innocence. “Did I ruin your big plan?”

“You ruined everything!” she shrieked, slowly approaching you. “You’ll pay for this!” 

“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Dean called out from behind her. 

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?! How many centuries passed by until the circumstances were right? I had it! I had it all! I was one spell away from seeing my love again!” she continued to scream, advancing further towards you as she ignored Dean.

“Back off, Grunhilda!” Dean roared from behind her, drawing his gun. 

“No!” she shrieked, barely lifting her hand in order to easily swing his gun away - and stop you from drawing your own. “You stupid little gnat. You think you can just come in here and mess with things you don’t understand? You think you can take this from me?!” 

Her shouting was drowned out by the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as your throat constricted, the air leaving your lungs and not returning. You felt your bones cracking beneath your skin as your feet left the floor, and you shared a look of terror with Dean before black began to cloud the edges of your vision. 

Without an effective weapon handy, Dean rushed the witch and tackled her to the floor, sending you crashing down. You met the concrete with a thud, and it knocked the rest of your senses out of you. You laid there for who knows how long, fighting off the waves of pain and nausea, willing yourself to move as you listened to the struggle happening a few feet away from you. 

By the time you managed to prop yourself up, Dean was pinned down as she advanced on him, and you desperately looked around for either of your guns. 

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” you heard her ask, menace laced deep in her words. “To want something so desperately, to feel that desire within your very soul?!” 

Dean struggled against her hold as you struggled to pick yourself up, to at least crawl to a weapon if you had to.

“Well you will,” she sneered, cackling to herself. “You’ll know how it feels. To have what you want the very most to be so close to you, to have it at the edge of your fingertips, only to never be able to grasp it! For it to be the only thing you can think about!”

“Shut the hell up,” Dean seethed through clenched teeth, glaring at her. 

She only stepped closer towards him, cackling to herself. “Your strongest yearning, hidden deep in your heart, will nevermore be yours to part. Be it with sun or with rain, that which brings joy won’t be without pain.” 

“You finished yet?” Dean interrupted, before he had the wind knocked out of him, rendering him silent. 

Moving as quickly as you could without being noticed, you closed in on Dean’s pistol while the witch carried on. 

“Whatever you crave you cannot say, yet you’ll seek it out be it night or day,” she continued, hovering over him. “Consider yourself lucky, you useless toad. I’ve had countless lifetimes yearning to see my love again, and I’ll spend lifetimes more. At least you only have this one measly little life to yearn for what you want.” 

Grasping the gun in your hands, you carefully rose to your feet and steadied yourself to take aim. “Man, you really do talk too much,” you huffed out.

The shot rang out just as she turned towards you, though it was silenced by a roaring wind that accompanied a bright blue light. Within seconds, everything was calm and quiet again.

Fighting every urge you had to collapse back onto the floor, you trudged your way over to Dean in an attempt to help him up. 

“God, I told you she’d be creepy,” he gasped out, groaning as he stood. 

“You want a prize?” you asked incredulously, staring up at him. 

“I wanna get the hell out of here,” he said, ushering you to take leave. “Then I want those drinks you owe me.” 

After what felt like another entire day, you and Dean had dropped the victim off at the hospital, patched each other up, cleaned out the basement, showered, and filled Sam in on everything that went down. 

“So… she cursed you?” Sam asked curiously, trying to understand. 

“I dunno. She tried to, I guess,” Dean replied nonchalantly. “But [Y/N/N] put a bullet in her. No witch, no curse, right?” 

Sam shared a brief look with you, before turning back to Dean. “Yeah, but… there was no body.” 

“What?” Dean asked gruffly. 

“The witch,” you said. “I shot, but she vanished. What if she isn’t dead?” 

“Well, I feel normal, so I’m gonna say she’s dead,” Dean declared with a shrug. “Now, can we head to the bar? I’m in desperate need of a drink… or twelve.” 

Without waiting for an answer, he quickly stood and donned his jacket before looking back at you and Sam. “You guys coming or what?” 

“Oh, do I have a choice to not go?” you asked playfully.

“You can stay if you want, but your wallet comes with me,” he replied, smiling innocently. 

“Alright, let’s go,” you said with a dramatic sigh, grabbing your own jacket. 

Not long after, the three of you were sliding into a booth in the nearest dive, enjoying the lack of people; you guys seriously needed to decompress. 

“Alright, I’ll be back,” you declared, hopping out of the booth to get the first round of drinks. 

“Make sure you get a tab started!” Dean jokingly called after you. 

You flipped him off in response, taking a seat at the bar after placing your order. While you waited, Sam watched as Dean grew more restless in his seat. 

“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” he finally asked, eyeing Dean as he fidgeted anxiously. 

“What?” Dean asked cluelessly, glancing around the bar. “I’m thirsty. She’s been gone for what, like, half an hour?” 

“It’s… barely been two minutes, Dean,” Sam informed him with an amused grin.  

“Yeah, well. I want my beer,” Dean mumbled, tapping his fingers on the table as he glanced around once more. “I’m gonna go see if she needs help.”

Before Sam could even reply, Dean was already halfway across the bar, meeting you just as you got your final drink. 

“Need a hand?” Dean asked cheerfully, his sudden appearance making you jump. “Sorry,” he added with a snicker. 

“Dick,” you muttered with a laugh, hopping down from the stool. “Here you go,” you added, handing him his beer.

“Awesome,” he beamed, taking the bottle from your outstretched hand. 

He followed closely as you made your way back to the table, handing Sam his drink before sliding into the booth; Dean followed suit, leaving you nestled in between him and the wall. 

The three of you had a few more rounds before Dean slipped away, determined to teach a lesson to the arrogant ass harassing players around the pool tables - just because you didn’t need to hustle people anymore didn’t mean it wasn’t still fun every now and then. You watched him fondly, laughing quietly to yourself as you watched him fumble around with his cue before making a terrible break. Harder than it looks, you could just hear him say. 

Your attention was turned back to Sam when he cleared his throat, and you were met with his questioning gaze. “Does he seem weird to you?” 

“Weird how?” you asked, face scrunched in confusion. 

“I don’t know, strange,” he replied with a small shrug. “Like- like antsy or something.” 

Your eyes flit back across the room to Dean, who was very much in his element as he upped his ante, before focusing on Sam again. “I haven’t noticed anything, Sammy.” 

He sighed in resignation, seeming to already know that would be your response. “It’s probably nothing, just forget I said anything,” he replied, shaking his head dismissively before finishing his drink. 

“If you say so,” you muttered quietly, sipping your drink as you cast a worried gaze across the bar, getting lost in thought.

By the time you each finished another round of drinks, Dean made his way back over to the table; much to the surprise of you and Sam. 

“Done so soon?” Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow at his brother. 

“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, sliding back into the seat beside you.

“But you only played one round,” you said quizzically. 

“So?” Dean wondered, gulping down the rest of his beer. 

“So, you usually play a lot more than that,” Sam pitched in, shifting his gaze between you and Dean. 

Dean sighed, his bottle clanging on the table as he set it back down. “Why am I getting the third degree here? I played a game, he learned his lesson, I got over it. End of story.”

“Okay, grouchy,” you snickered, ruffling his hair a little just because you knew he hated it. Except he really did love it when it was you doing it.

“Whatever, anyone want another round?” he asked with a huff, lightly swatting your hand away. 

“No, I’m gonna call it a night,” you admitted, shifting to slip your jacket back on. 

“Yeah, me too,” Sam declared, starting to stand from the table. 

Dean stood as well, assumingly just to let you out. “Alright, let’s go.”

You and Sam both stilled in your movements at his response, sharing a shocked look with each other. “You’re… coming with us?” 

“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked with a scoff, shrugging his jacket on as he looked questioningly between you and Sam. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you guys?”

“We just didn’t expect you to call it a night so early,” Sam explained helplessly. “Gettin’ old, huh?” he added, trying to lighten the mood a little. 

“Yeah, I mean, you barely even wracked up a tab!” you declared with a laugh, before grinning mischievously. “Drinks just don’t agree with you anymore, do they, old man?”

Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, fixing his collar just to busy his hands. “Okay, alright, one more wisecrack and I’m leaving you both here.” 

Despite the finality in his tone, the amusement dancing in his eyes gave him away - as did the hand he extended to you to help you slide from the booth. 

“Whatever you say, grandpa,” Sam teased, patting Dean on the shoulder before walking away with laughter in his wake. “I’ll be outside!”

You chuckled in response, and the stern look Dean gave you only made you laugh even more. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry it up, chuckles,” he chided, wiggling his fingers at you. He surveyed the bar as you finally took hold of his hand, sliding out from your seat with ease and standing before him. “Ready?” he asked, gaze turning back to look down at you. 

“Yeah, I just gotta go pay,” you replied, nodding your head in the direction of the bar counter. 

“Alright,” he said with a nod. He gave your hand a squeeze, though instead of letting go like he normally would, he held it firmly as he led the way across the bar. 

You followed along quietly, trying your hardest to not read too much into it. Though when you stood before the bar and he had yet to release your hand, you gave him a puzzled look. “Did you wanna go get the car?” you asked hesitantly. 

He looked confused for a moment, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on either, before he cleared his throat with a curt nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll meet you out there. Don’t take too long,” he rushed, giving your hand another fleeting squeeze before shuffling away. 

Strange, you thought briefly, before shifting your attention to the bartender before you. 

As you paid the tab, Dean settled into the driver's seat of Baby, and Sam watched him impatiently drum his fingers against the wheel as he hummed along to whatever song was in his head; and he couldn’t help but snort a laugh as Dean checked his watch one, two, three times since getting into the car. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Sam chided with a laugh, shaking his head. 

“What?” Dean inquired, annoyance clear in his voice. 

“Dude, please tell me you see what’s going on,” Sam pleaded. 

Dean widened his eyes in confusion, glancing around the near empty parking lot before looking back at his brother. “What’s going on?” 

Before Sam could reply, their attention was caught by the opening of the bar’s door when you emerged from the building, a grin forming on your face as you caught sight of them waiting in the car. 

Dean matched your grin, quickly reaching for the door handle and scrambling outside. “There she is!” he greeted happily, opening the back door for you. 

“Fucking idiot,” Sam muttered to himself, staring out the window with an amused grin as you and Dean settled into your seats. 

The three of you made it back in no time, and, having to settle for a single bed when first getting to town over driving for another who-knows-how-long just to find another motel, shuffled out of the car and into your shared room with heavy feet.

“Finally,” Dean muttered with relief, shutting the door behind him as Sam took a seat. “Whoa, whoa,” Dean barked, holding up a hand. “What’re you doing?” 

Sam froze just as he sat on the bed, staring up at his brother. “What?” 

“That’s my bed,” Dean declared with a huff. 

“No, it’s not,” Sam answered with a scoff. “It’s your turn for the couch.” 

“Dude, I’m not sleeping on the pull-out!” Dean declared with finality.

“What, are you kidding me?” Sam asked incredulously. “You got the bed last time!” 

“Yeah, and I just got ragdolled by a crazy ass witch, I deserve a mattress!” Dean argued, stepping towards the bed. “Get up.” 

“No,” Sam argued stubbornly, relaxing further atop the sheets. 

“You guys are ridiculous,” you said with an exasperated sigh, walking across the room. “I’ll take the couch.” 

“Not a chance,” Dean denied, not even sparing you a glance. 

“What, why?” you asked in confusion. 

“First of all, I’m not sharing with Sam,” Dean replied, turning to look at you. “Second, you got it worse than I did. I’m not shoving you on a pull-out.” 

“Oh, please-” you started to argue, before he cut you off. 

“I patched you up myself, [Y/N]. Don’t bother trying to lie to me,” he cautioned. 

You opened your mouth to argue once more, but the look on his face stopped you short. “Whatever,” you mumbled, turning towards the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for bed. Figure this out before I get back so I can actually go to bed, please.” 

The bickering resumed as you quickly retreated, shutting the bathroom door on Dean’s disgruntled declaration of “best two out of three.”

By the time you re-entered the room, you were met with silence. Surveying the surroundings, you found Sam digging through his toiletries bag while sitting in his original spot on the bed. Your gaze snapped over to the couch, where Dean sat looking like a kicked puppy. 

“You went with scissors again, didn’t you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 

He met your gaze as Sam snickered behind you, causing his face to sour even more. “Shut up,” he mumbled before standing, bristling past you with slumped shoulders. 

You chuckled quietly to yourself and grabbed the spare sheets, quickly making up the pull-out for Dean while he got ready; hopefully he’d be a little less cranky about it all if this was at least already done. 

Once finished, you made your way over to the bed and curled up under the covers. After saying a quick goodnight to Sam, you were asleep before Dean even left the bathroom. 

Fear gnawed at Dean, his body frozen in place as a cold spread through him, panic clinging to him like ice. He tried to call out to you, but all that left him was a strangled breath as his lungs seized up. He watched as the waves carried you away, further and further from where he stood. By the time his legs finally moved to carry him closer to shore, his feet were so heavy it was as though he was wading through quicksand. 

“No, no, no,” he pleaded quietly, watching as the waters edge never grew near no matter how far he ran. 

Your voice cried out to him, surging him forward even faster as you drifted ever outwards, terror seeping deeper into his bones with every futile step he took.

He couldn’t reach you. 

He couldn’t save you. 

The realisation that you were gone caused his world to come crashing down around him as he fell to his knees. A roaring filled his ears, and he didn’t know whether it was the irascible water that held you captive or the blood racing from his pounding heart. 

As he stayed there - watching the crashing waves for any sign of you, listening for a call of his name, unwilling to move for fear he’d miss you - the water suddenly crept up around him, as if to mock him. 

The sky darkened as he let out an anguished cry, his voice blending in with the storm beginning to brew around him. Yet despite the deafening howls, he heard it clear as day: your voice, calling out to him.  

“Dean.”

The world stilled around him once more, your voice ringing out in a whisper as gentle as the wind. 

“Dean.” 

He stood, frantically searching the horizon for you. He tried to call out, yet his voice still never came. 

“Dean!” you called out, voice booming like thunder from above. 

A small hand gripped his own, pulling him so forcefully he was yanked off his feet. He let out a startled cry, a spark of lightning igniting so brightly before him that he screwed his eyes shut. 

“God dammit, Dean!” 

Another force shook him, and when we reopened his eyes, he was met with the suspiciously stained ceiling of the motel room. He bolted upright, heart hammering against his chest as he looked around. He caught your worried gaze as he wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to steady his breathing as you leaned in closer. 

“[Y/N?]” he gasped out, pushing himself further upright.

His hand reached out automatically, fingers tentatively brushing against your cheek as if to evaluate your solidity. When he was satisfied that you wouldn’t evaporate, he surged forward to wrap you in a desperate embrace; the icy grip of terror finally starting to melt. 

“It was just a nightmare, De,” you soothed quietly, tracing a hand along his back. “Everything’s alright.”

“Yeah,” he said tightly, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as he let you go. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m alright, get back to bed.” 

“You’re okay?” you questioned, concern laced in both your face and tone of voice. 

“I’m okay,” he affirmed with a nod, casting his gaze aside so you wouldn’t see the panic still swirling within him. 

“Okay,” you said softly, placing a gentle kiss upon the crown of his head before standing from the edge of the pull-out. 

Dean got up after you to grab a glass of water, his heart jumping in his chest as he remembered the sight of you being ripped away by the current. 

“Just a nightmare,” he reminded himself under his breath. “Just a nightmare.” 

Not having slept another wink after his nightmare, Dean was unsurprisingly the first one up the next morning. Taking it upon himself to get breakfast for the three of you, he found himself at the nearest diner waiting for his order. 

Drumming his fingers impatiently on the sticky linoleum counter, a burning desire to call you began to build within him. Knowing you were likely still sleeping, he decided to busy himself with a stupid game you downloaded on his phone. 

Yet the urge to reach out to you grew tenfold as he sat there, a sinking feeling that it might mean you were in danger starting to take hold of him. Just as his mind began to swirl with questions of what the hell was going on with him, he heard your voice calling his name. 

His head snapped up, expecting to see you sliding onto the stool beside him, ready to give you hell for walking here in search of him all by yourself in a random town. He figured you must’ve known he was here, and it wouldn’t have been a far walk from the motel, but it was still stupid.

Though the words died on his tongue as he realized you weren’t there, and that familiar feeling of dread trickled through him after scanning the diner and not finding you anywhere. 

Another voice called out, this time the waitress, announcing that his order was ready. He met her smiling face with nothing but confusion, her smile faltering for a moment.

“Everything alright?” she asked hesitantly.

“Huh?” he asked, before snapping out of his daze. “Oh, yeah. Just a little too early for me. Thanks-” he paused, squinting to read her name tag. “Thanks, Edna,” he charmed, flashing his signature grin as he gathered the order. 

“Anytime, sugar,” she charmed, her smile perking back up as she sent him a wink. 

With one last - albeit awkward - grin sent her way, Dean quickly left the diner; already feeling lighter for knowing he’d be back at the motel soon. His grin only grew when he glanced across the street and caught a glimpse of you staring back at him, proving that he wasn’t crazy and you really did come to meet him. 

He took a step forward, intending to call out to you, when a truck drove by and blocked you from sight. The grin was wiped from his face and the coffee tray nearly slipped out of his hand when he noticed you had completely disappeared in its wake. 

Fearing the worst once more, he scrambled into the car and quickly called you, firing Baby to life as the line rang. 

“Hey,” you answered with a stifled yawn. “Please tell me you’re getting breakfast. And coffee.” 

“Yeah, I-” he faltered in his response, having to let out a breath of relief as he realized you were safe and sound. “I’ll be back in a few, you and Sammy still there?” 

“Where else would we be?” you asked with a giggle. 

While the sound would normally bring a smile to his face, your words only caused a frown to appear. “You only waking up now?” 

“Don’t judge me,” you teased. “It’s only… ten after seven, I barely slept in.” 

“Just not used to being up before you,” he lied, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. 

“Miracles really do happen,” you joked with a laugh. “You sound weird, is everything okay?” you added, worry tinting your voice. 

“Hm?” he wondered, not processing your question right away. “Oh, no- yeah, I-... just didn’t get much sleep.”

“Right,” you said, teetering on the edge of believing him or not. 

“Really, I’m good,” he assured, sensing your apprehension. “I just gotta catch some z’s and I’ll be good as new.” 

“Okay. I’ll see you in a few then,” you relented. “Drive safe,” you added as an afterthought before hanging up.   

The line went dead as he stopped at a red light, his stomach churning as he stared at his reflection in the rearview.

“Just need some sleep,” he assured himself. 

“Dude, would you quit it with the pacing?” Sam snapped, setting his book down on the table for sheer lack of concentration. 

Dean stopped just long enough to stare daggers at his brother before marching down the library once more. “She’s been gone too long.” 

“She’s been gone an hour,” Sam informed, hands running over his face in exasperation. 

“Exactly,” Dean replied, pointing a finger at Sam in acknowledgment. “Something must’ve happened.” 

“Dude, she’s at the grocery store. With Jack. What the hell could possibly happen?” 

“I don’t know!” Dean exclaimed, arms flailing as he whirled to face Sam. “Something must’ve! She hasn’t answered my last text and it’s been-” he paused, pulling out his phone to brandish the screen. “Seven minutes!” 

“Oh, my god,” Sam groaned, tossing his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t deal with this anymore.” 

“What are you talking about? Aren’t you worried?” Dean asked gruffly. 

“No, Dean, I’m not worried! There’s no reason to be worried!” Sam proclaimed. 

“No reason? She could be dead!” Dean barked, his face taking on an expression of disbelief. 

Sam sighed as he leaned over the table, raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let me ask you this: why, exactly, do you think she’s dead?” 

“Oh, come on, Sam!” Dean grumbled. “We don’t exactly live cookie cutter lives here, you know. One minute she’s returning the shopping cart, and the next she’s got a damn knife in her back!” 

“Dean,” Sam soothed. “You know as well as I do that’s a load of crap.” 

“No,” Dean argued, shaking his head. “We don’t know that. We don’t know anything, you know why?” 

Before Sam could even respond, Dean waved his phone around before dropping it on the table. “Because she won’t answer her damn phone!” 

“Okay, this is actually ridiculous,” Sam declared. “How can you seriously not see what’s been happening to you?” 

“Knock it off, Sam,” Dean muttered, waving a hand dismissively as he began pacing again. “I’m fucking fine.” 

“You’re fine,” Sam repeated incredulously. “You’re friggin’ cursed, Dean!” 

“I’m not cursed!” shouted Dean. “Would you quit it with that crap?” 

“Right, because nothing’s been going on with you lately, right?” 

“Right!” Dean agreed with a huff. 

“You haven’t been, say, I don’t know…. not sleeping? Feeling stir crazy? Getting paranoid?”

“Sam-” 

“No, I’m serious, Dean! How can you not see this?” 

“Because I’m fine!” Dean argued, stalling his movements to gather his phone from the table.

After a few moments of silence, Dean rolled his eyes and found himself once more walking the length of the library. “Okay, maybe I’ve been feeling a little weird lately, but I’ve just been tired - and you know what? I survived worse. So yeah, I’m fine!” 

“Right,” Sam said sceptically.  “And have you… noticed when it is that you feel… weird?”

“I don’t know!” Dean announced frustratedly.

“Dean,” Sam chastised. 

“What?” 

“You’ve been feeling like this all week, and it’s only getting worse. You’ve been like this since that witch cursed you - and don’t say she didn’t. Use your fucking head, Dean! You’re cursed!” 

Dean’s jaw clenched as he tried to remain calm, taking a moment to formulate his response. “You’re insane,” he finally declared. 

“I think you’re the insane one,” Sam contested. “You were cursed to yearn for something, Dean. Only in this case… it’s someone.” 

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

“C’mon, Dean!” Sam pleaded with a laugh. “The only time you get like this is when you’re more than ten feet away from [Y/N].” 

“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean muttered dismissively. 

“You’ve checked your phone another five times since you picked it up.” 

“So?” Dean questioned, failing to resist the urge to check it once more. “I’m worried, not cursed.” 

“You’re worried because you’re cursed!” Sam argued. 

“I’m worried because I lo-” Dean quickly fell silent as the words died on his tongue, his brain firing into total overdrive as he laughed nervously. “I care, that’s why I’m worried.” 

Sam stared at his brother in total disbelief, trying to find a way to make him realize what was going on- or, most likely, acknowledge what was going on. 

Yet before the conversation could go any further, the bunker door screeched open and the sound of your laughter fleeted down to greet Dean, effectively turning his scowl into an affectionate grin. 

“Hope you remembered my pie!” he called out, marching to meet you at the foot of the stairs without so much as a glance back in Sam’s direction. 

“When have I ever forgotten?” you asked, feigning offence as you held out the bag which contained his pie.

“Well,” he started, taking the bag from you. “There was that time in Redford-”

“Hey!” you interrupted with a laugh. “I didn’t forget, they were out!”

“See, I still don’t believe you,” he teased, heading for the kitchen. 

“Believe whatever you want, Dean,” you replied playfully. 

“I’m still waiting for it, you know. You should get me two next time,” he joked, though he was partly serious. 

“Dean?” Sam’s voice tentatively called out.

“Yeah?” Dean replied hotly, keeping his back to Sam as he went to grab a beer from the fridge. 

“Who, uh… who the hell are you talking to?” he asked carefully, surveying the empty kitchen. 

“Hilarious, Sam,” he said dryly, shutting the fridge. “I’m talking to-”

His mouth ran dry as he turned around, being met with just his brother, who was staring with concern from the doorway. 

“[Y/N],” Dean finished weakly. 

“Her and Jack aren’t back yet, Dean,” Sam said carefully, as though talking to a lost child. 

“Yes, they are. They got back, she gave me my pie, we came in here,” Dean said fiercely, his confidence shattering when he went to gesture at the pie he set down moments earlier and found it to be gone.  

“Maybe you should sit down,” Sam suggested, not knowing what to do. 

“I’m fine!” Dean shouted, hovering over the counter. “I’m fine,” he repeated, moreso to himself than anything. 

“Okay, look, how about I try calling [Y/N], okay?” Sam offered, hesitantly walking further into the kitchen. “See when they’ll be back.” 

“They are back!” Dean barked, glaring at Sam. “She was just in here!” 

Sam didn’t know what to say, the fear and concern for his brother crashing down on him. 

“She was just in here,” Dean repeated shakily, meeting Sam’s gaze with confusion. 

“Dean,” Sam started to say, before the familiar tone of your ringtone came from Dean’s phone, cutting through the air like a knife. 

Dean pulled the phone from his pocket, clearing his throat before answering. “Yeah?” 

“Dean, thank god,” you cheered, sighing in relief. “Listen, we came out to a flat tire and I don’t have a spare because I forgot to fucking replace it and there are too many people around for Jack to, you know, try fixing it,” you rambled anxiously. “Can you please come help?” 

“You’re still at the store?” Dean clarified, looking up at Sam with frightened eyes. 

“Yeah, we’re stuck in the parking lot,” you told him breezily. 

“Okay,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” 

“Thanks, De!” you said happily, ending the call. 

Dean stood there for a few moments staring down at his unopened bottle of beer on the counter, trying to gather his thoughts, before finally lifting his gaze to Sam.

“I’ll, uh…. I’ll be back,” he told him, not waiting for a response before trudging out of the kitchen.

You found yourself yet again rushing down the hall to Dean’s room, his muffled yells waking you in the dead of night once more. 

He uttered your name as you shut the door behind you, and though it took you by surprise the very first time it happened - nearly two weeks ago, now - it was something you’ve almost come to expect. It was killing you, watching him go through this every night and not being able to fix it. You would sit with him, find ways to gently rouse him from his terror filled slumber and comfort him when he woke, but it never seemed like enough; he deserved more.

At first you didn’t think there was too much going on, figuring his shift in behaviour was just due to his lack of sleep. You didn’t believe Sam when he talked to you about it; Dean may have been acting a little more strange than usual, but it didn’t raise any red flags.

It wasn’t until the morning following your conversation that you noticed it, cluing in and realising how different Dean had been; how long he’d been different. The excess text messages, the increase in phone calls, the insistence on you not going anywhere without him and his exuberant reactions to you getting back safe when you did go somewhere without him, his constant questioning on where you were or where you’ve just been. Something else was going on, and you could only think it really did come down to the witch you two encountered.  So you and Sam called up Rowena, getting her take on the situation and figuring out what to do. 

Her words now echoed through your head as you perched yourself on the edge of his bed: “Magic isn’t simple. Some curses are anchored by the witch, ending whenever they were to die. But others are more complex, rooted not in the witch but the object of the curse itself, not breaking until their purpose is carried out one way or another. Perhaps if you can figure out what it is Dean needs, you can break the curse yourselves. If this carries on for any longer… I’m worried it will kill him.” 

While you ran your fingers through his hair, you decided right then and there that once he woke up, you wouldn’t leave without confronting him about it. You knew it would likely start a fight, and you felt a little guilty knowing you would all but interrogate him right after having another nightmare, but all that guilt flew right out the window the second Dean startled himself awake, the sight of his panic stricken face as he gasped for air nearly bringing you to tears; you’ve seen him like this too often as of late. 

“It’s alright, Dean,” you soothed, reaching out to him. “I’m right here, everything’s fine.” 

His gaze snapped to you, unable to hide the confusion and terror still coursing through him despite the relief he felt. “[Y/N]?” 

“Yeah, De,” you cooed, running a hand across his shoulder blades. “We’re in your room, everyone’s okay.” 

He let out a shuddering breath, hanging his head in his hands. “You’re okay,” he whispered softly. “You’re okay.” 

You sat quietly with him for a few more minutes, patiently comforting him as best as you could while you thought of how to approach this conversation. 

Clearing his throat, Dean was the first to speak again as he rose from the bed. “Sorry I woke you again.” 

The dejection and shame laced in his voice tore your heart to bits, and you had to put up a good fight to keep your emotions in check. “You don’t need to apologize.” 

“Yeah, I do,” he disagreed, trudging to his sink in the corner. 

“Dean, please talk to me,” you pleaded, watching as he turned on the water. 

You fell silent, waiting for him to deny you and brush you off again. You waited for him to say something, to do something, but all he did was stare at the running water. 

“Dean?” you asked cautiously, slowly getting up from the bed yourself. 

“I can’t save you,” he muttered quietly, his gaze on the faucet unyielding. 

“What?” you asked curiously, not knowing what he meant. 

“I can never save you,” he carried on. “You always just… slip away from me. Every time. It’s always the same.” 

“What’s always the same?” you questioned, moving closer towards him. 

“I try,” he muttered, seemingly oblivious to your presence. “I run, and I fight, and I try, but I can never reach you. I can never get to you.”

He seemed to snap out of his daze a little, moving to splash water over his face before turning off the tap. “You keep dying. I keep watching you die. I can’t watch you die again, [Y/N]. I can’t.” 

“This is what your nightmares have been?” you wondered. 

He fell silent again for a minute before meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Yeah.” 

“It’s not real, Dean,” you told him softly.

“It’s real enough for me,” he muttered, turning to face you. 

“And is this why you’ve been… acting differently towards me?” you asked hesitantly. 

He averted his gaze, hanging his head as he considered your question. “I guess,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe, yeah. I don’t know.” 

“Dean,” you scolded with a sigh, plopping back down on the bed. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on?” 

“Because everything’s fine!” he argued once again. 

“I’m not stupid, Dean!” you challenged. “I know you. I can see something's eating you alive and it’s fucking killing me to witness it. So please, tell me what the hell is going on.” 

“It’s just nightmares,” he lied, crossing his arms against his chest. 

“It’s more than nightmares!” you cried. “You’re withering away into nothing, Dean! I mean let’s face it! You’re practically a zombie nowadays with how little sleep you get, you’ve been acting like a puppy with separation anxiety, and let’s not forget how completely erratic you’ve been.”

He glared at you, jaw clenching as he decided whether or not to entertain this conversation. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t slept lately,” he admitted starkly. “But like I keep saying, I’m fine.” 

“Don’t you ever get tired of lying?” you sneered, glaring up at him. 

He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze to anywhere else as he shook his head. “No, but I’m getting tired of having this conversation all the time.” 

“Well too bad!” you yelled, abruptly standing from the bed. “Cause I’m tired of never having this conversation go anywhere! I’m tired of you brushing off the idea of you being cursed. I didn’t believe it at first either, but what the hell else could it be, Dean?” 

“Oh, come on!” he barked, running a hand over his face. “I see Sam got his hooks into you.” 

“Yeah, he did. And you need to listen to us.” 

“No, I really don’t,” he scoffed, starting to head to the door. 

“Even if it kills you?” you blurted out. 

“It’s not gonna kill me!” 

“God, look at you, Dean! It already is!” you argued, marching closer to him. “How would you feel if the situation were reversed?” 

He let out a sigh, pausing with his hand on the doorknob before turning back to you. “What?” 

“What if it were me going through all this instead of you? Would you let me get away with not even listening to you and Sam?” 

He narrowed his eyes at you, staring at you in silence for so long you expected him to turn away again. Instead, he let out a deep breath as he took a seat, gesturing for you to carry on. “Five minutes.” 

You almost went to argue before you thought better of it, knowing full well that if Dean never came around to the theory he would actually cut you off at the five minute mark. So, you did your best to recount the entire situation for him, reiterating what you, Sam, and Rowena had to say about it all in the hopes of getting through to him. By the time you finished, you knew it was well over five minutes, so you took Dean not interrupting you to be a good sign. 

“Okay,” he finally said with a small nod. “Well, I listened. Can I go now?” 

Your heart dropped to your stomach, anger and fear bubbling inside of you as you exploded. “God, you are unbelievable!”

“Well what do you want me to say?” he grumbled. “I just don’t believe that’s what’s going on.” 

“How can you not believe it?” you asked incredulously. “It’s obvious!” 

“Look, I said I don’t believe it, alright?” Dean snapped. “Why are you so hellbent on making this into some big fight? Just accept it.” 

“No!” you seethed. “I can’t just accept the fact that this could kill you. Especially not when there’s a way we could end this.” 

“No,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “You can’t fix this, [Y/N/N]. You just can’t.” 

“I can!” you cried. “Just tell me.” 

“Tell you what?” 

“You know what,” you scolded. 

“This is so fucking ridiculous.” 

“Tell me anyway.” 

“Why the hell do you care so much?” he questioned exasperatedly. 

“Because I’m fucking terrified, Dean!” you exclaimed. “I’ve watched you grow more restless and anxious every day since the night we finished that case. I’ve seen the life drain from you more and more as sleep became nearly impossible for you. And I know it’s nearly impossible for you, because I have spent the last eleven nights sitting on that bed as you got terrorised by your own mind. I don’t care if you believe in this curse or not, Dean, because I do.” 

Dean stood quietly, absorbing what you said as the severity of the situation began to dawn on him. 

“I mean don’t you get it?” you asked sadly, cutting through the silence. “If something happens to you, if I lose you… that’s not something I can come back from.” 

Dean fell silent once more, running a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, pacing around the room a little as he turned everything over in his head. 

“I’m scared, Dean,” you reiterated softly. “Please, just let us try to fix this.” 

“There’s some things I should tell you, then,” he admitted quietly after a moment of silence, taking a seat on the bed. 

“About what’s been happening?” you asked hopefully. 

He nodded, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. “Yeah.” 

“Okay,” you said, moving his desk chair to take a seat. “I’m listening.” 

He took a bracing breath, taking a few minutes to build the courage to speak. “Well, you know I’ve been having nightmares.” 

“I do,” you agreed quietly. 

“It’s always the same one,” he admitted, keeping his gaze cast downwards. “I could never figure out why. It didn't make sense to me why it was always the same thing. So I finally talked to Sam about it, and he had a pretty good theory. But, you know me. I didn’t want to believe it because it came back down to that witch and this stupid fucking curse.” 

He let out a bitter laugh, pausing long enough for you to speak up. “What did he have to say about it?” 

“I tried telling myself I was fine,” he continued, ignoring your question. “I was fine, at first. At first it was just not sleeping well… but then other things started happening.” 

“Other things like what?” you wondered quietly. 

“Like my blood feeling like it’s on fucking fire,” he muttered, wiping at his face. “And my skin feeling like it-… like it’s being peeled off my goddamn bones, and my face feeling like it’s melting… and how I get this- this bubble inside my chest that feels like it’s either gonna burst or suffocate me and how it all only happens-” he stopped in his rambling, taking a deep breath before chuckling in disbelief. “God, it only happens when you’re not around, [Y/N].” 

“I-... what do you mean?” you asked breathlessly. 

“Oh, come on, [Y/N],” he said bitterly. “I know you’ve noticed. I text you more, I’m almost always calling you. I just- I get this… this unwavering panic inside me when you’re not around. I keep-... I swear to god I see you everywhere when you’re gone. I catch sight of you across the street, I smell your stupid shampoo when I’m alone, I hear your voice when no one’s there. I had an entire conversation with you and you weren’t even there,” he carried on, shaking his head as he briskly wiped away an angry tear. “God, I’m going fucking crazy,” he added with a manic chuckle. 

“You’re not crazy, Dean,” you said gently. 

“That night,” he started, staring at the wall across from him. “She was trying to get back someone she lost… someone she loved.” 

“Right,” you agreed. 

“They used to drown them, people they accused of being witches,” he continued slowly. 

“Yeah, it was pretty common. Sink, and you were innocent. Float, and you were guilty,” you pitched in. “But… what does that have to do with this?”

“I think they were innocent,” he said simply. “Whoever she lost… I think that’s how she lost them.” 

“Why do you think that?” you asked curiously. 

Dean cleared his throat, staring pensively at his hands once more. “The nightmares. It’s always… you always drown. I keep-... I can never save you.” 

“I don’t get-” you started to say, before he cut you off. 

“It’s how she lost who she loves, [Y/N],” he said curtly. “It makes sense for me to see the one I love go the same way.” 

“I-... what?” you asked, too stunned to think of anything else to say. 

“The dreams, the hallucinations, the- the way I’ve been feeling… I didn’t want to admit it, I still don’t, but I can’t… I mean I can only ignore it for so long, right?” he said, scoffing quietly. “Especially with you and Sam breathing down my neck about it.” 

“Ignore what, Dean?” you asked breathlessly, your heart hammering in your chest. 

“You,” he muttered. “They way I feel about you. The way I’ve always felt about you.” 

You didn’t dare respond, his words ringing in your ears as he fell silent, each of you lost in your own thoughts for a while. 

“I’ve always known that I love you, [Y/N/N],” he carried on, slowly meeting your gaze with glistening eyes. “But this… this curse, this whatever it is. God, it’s just made it all so much worse, and I knew. I knew it was you that my entire being was screaming out for but I couldn’t… I couldn’t admit it.” 

“Why not?” you asked shakily, feeling your tears starting to build. 

“How could I put that on you?” he asked, a few rogue tears slipping down his face. “You said it yourself, this thing is killing me. It’s gonna kill me, unless I get what I want, and given that that’s you, I’m calling it game over.” 

“No, Dean, it’s not,” you denied with a sniffle, cutting through your own stray tears. “You should’ve told me.” 

“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, shrugging lightly as he looked back at his hands. “I told you now.” 

“Dean,” you sighed, wiping your face as you stood from your seat. “Do you trust me?” you asked, walking towards him.

“Of course I do,” he said quickly, almost offended by the question. 

“Okay, well, I’ll need you to trust me on this,” you replied, stopping just in front of where he sat. 

“Okay,” he said with a huff. 

“You gotta look at me, though,” you said, laughing softly. 

Sighing dejectedly, he slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze, a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips as he looked at you. 

You smiled softly at him, gently taking his face in your hands before wordlessly bringing your lips down to meet his. At first, neither of you really knew what was happening, and just when you thought to pull away you felt his lips moving against your own. His hands gripped your waist to hold you in place a moment longer before you each pulled away, staring silently at each other as you processed what just happened. 

“What, uh… what was that for?” Dean finally asked. 

“Well, it was either that or slapping some sense into you,” you said playfully. “Which I almost think you still deserve, because I can’t believe you honestly think I don’t love you back.” 

“What?” he asked, his grip on your waist loosening in shock before tightening once more. 

“You’ve had me since the day we met, Dean,” you told him softly, carding your fingers through his hair. 

“You actually…” he trailed off quietly, trying to focus his thoughts. “You actually love me, of all people?” 

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I do.” 

“So I- well, I guess I could’ve saved a lot of trouble if I really did just tell you, huh?” he asked jokingly, laughing tightly. 

“I’ll give you hell for it tomorrow,” you teased, half serious. “For now, how about we try getting you back to sleep?” 

“Actually,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a better idea involving this bed.” 

You couldn’t help but snort a laugh, grinning fondly at him. “Oh, really?” 

He grinned back, laughing with you before taking on a more sombre tone. “Do you trust me?” 

“Always,” you said honestly. 

“Good,” he replied with a grin, laughing heartily at the shriek you let out when he tossed you on the bed. 

He stared down at you, a look you’ve never seen before painted on his face. “What?” you asked, giggling nervously.

“I love you,” he said earnestly, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. 

“I love you, too,” you replied shyly, grinning softly. 

He matched your grin, drinking you in a moment longer before crashing his lips upon yours once more. 

When Dean woke the next morning, it didn’t take long for a grin to spread across his face as he quickly realized two things. 

The first thing being that you, the love of his life, still remained tangled up in both his arms and the sheets, sleeping peacefully atop his chest. 

The second being that, for the first time in a total of thirteen days, he was able to sleep without being haunted by his nightmares. 

He felt you stir, and his grin widened as you nestled in closer, tightening your grip on him as you slept. He planted a kiss against your temple, pulling you in close as he blissfully settled in for another peaceful rest. 

Maybe witches aren’t so bad.

tagging: @roseblue373

let me know if you'd like to be tagged!

[corinthianism]

corinthianism's fic recs

here are my personal favorite fanfics! idk how often i'll update this, but i hope you like them as much as i do :) *indicates smut

last updated: march 26, 2024

MARVEL

loki laufeyson - from the void, with love — by whirlybirbs (my fav fanfic of all time!!! i think about this fic several times in a day bro) - riptide — by starks-hero - the tailor* (series) — by birdofhermes (ao3) - time after time (series) — by goldencherriess (ao3) - a friend from work — by cozy_the_overlord (ao3)

thor odinson - god of fertility* (request) — by charnelhouse - highway don't care (but i do, i do)* (part one, part two, part three) — by spacelabrathor

peter parker (andrew garfield) - agree to disagree — by delicate-dorothea - nerdy peter (request) — by webslingingslasher - good boy x bad girl trope (request) — by webslingingslasher - hold you here, my loveliest friend* — by p3mybeloved - your friendly neighborhood sensitive spider* — by jin0 - glad you're home — by withahappyrefrain - the mechanics of a soul — by irndad - 3 is the magic number* — by withahappyrefrain - crush — by ptersparkers - as it goes — by forever-rogue - here comes the sun (part one, part two, part three) — by withahappyrefrain - stability, reciprocity, and a romance for the ages (series) — by privateanxieties (ao3 - need an account to read)

steven grant (moon knight) - hold me close — by stormkobra-5 - gift of min* — by astroboots - puzzles* — by stormkobra-5 - first time* — by luvpedropascal - domestic adonis* — by peterman-spideyparker - where it starts — by silversweetpea - fallen from heaven, grown on earth* (series) — by davosmymaster (ao3) - call me poe* — by kittyfandom (ao3) - elemental — by batsingotham (ao3) - the boy with the thorn in his side — by eating_flowers (ao3)

marc spector (moon knight) - not him — by loud-mouth-loser - it's worth it, it's divine* — by the-archxr - i'm getting to know someone — by davosmymaster (ao3)

wade wilson (deadpool) - tea and sympathy (series) — by bucketsoffrogs (ao3)

SHERLOCK (BBC)

sherlock holmes - your hidden strength — by okay-j-hannah - sublime dexterity* (part one, part two) — by daydreamtofiction - literally everything by starks-hero

SUPERNATURAL

sam winchester - playing house (part one, part two) — by uncouth-the-fifth - baby i'll stay (heaven can wait) — by uncouth-the-fifth - move over.* — by ggwritesstuff - where's your head at?* — by beau55515 - birthdays: sam winchester style* — by karleekarma (ao3) - the comforts of home — by zepskies - under the hood* — by shawslut

dean winchester - whether you like it or not — by kbeautimous (ao3) - reading you wrong — by zepskies - cherished — by thatonewriter15 (ao3) - soft touch — by wearywinchester - i love her, that's why* — by kaleldobrev - drivin' me crazy* — by lis-likes-fics

castiel - salt n' lick* — by aperfectgrace (ao3) - a bite of apple pie (series) — by ac_deanc (ao3)

THE SANDMAN

the corinthian - bring me a dream* (series, ongoing) — by placeinthemiddleofnowhere - nihil — by lis-likes-fics

dream/morpheus - sweet dreams (are made of this) — by stranger-nightmare

CRIMINAL MINDS

aaron hotchner - from eden — by heliotropehotch - gold star — by honeypiehotchner - love, an abstract concept — by luveline - honeymoon phase* (series) — by hotchsbitch (ao3)

THE BOYS

soldier boy (he's absolutely horrible but so. so. hot.) - break me down* (series) — by zepskies (go read their other stuff too!) - talk to me — by zepskies

homelander (also absolutely horrible. would sleep with him.) - if i can't have you — by watchstarscollide - milky white* — by after-witch

GAME OF THRONES

jaime lannister - i'm not made by design — by ichorai (this legitimately changed my brain chemistry)

STAR WARS

obi-wan kenobi - like turning on the light* — by full-time-make-believer (deactivated acc) (this also changed the trajectory of my life) - where it wasn't* — by 221bshrlocked - your thoughts are loud — by spidersbane - empty me out* — by 221bshrlocked - house of memories* (series) — by meshlasolus - bad idea, right?* (series) — by mischiefling (ao3) - you make me feel like dancing — by saradika (ao3) - it's a wonderful lie — by firstofficerwiggles (ao3) - temptation's kiss — by karasong (ao3) - you make my dreams* — by wickedscribbles (ao3) - like a living mirage — by karasong (ao3) - broken drought* — by rosalindbeatrice (ao3) - never grow up — by doihavetoloseyoutoo (ao3) - never ending story — by kybercrystal (ao3) - volveré* — by kxnobi (ao3)

din djarin (the mandalorian) - the savior* (part one, part two, part three) — by dindjiarin - significant — by softlyspector - touching din — by archieimagines - uncharted territory* — by pedrito-friskito - creed* — by wheresarizona - home is wherever i'm with you* (part one, part two, part three) — by saradika

DRACULA (BBC)

count dracula - the székely* (series) — by theplumsoldier

LOTR/THE HOBBIT

thranduil oropherion - a boon* (series) — by inksplots (ao3) - beauty and the beast (series) — by tamurilofrivendell (ao3)

DOCTOR SLEEP

dan torrance - of monsters and men* — by helaintoloki & obitwo - domestic life (headcanons) — by thornsinmycrown - smut alphabet* — by daincrediblegg

[writerstruggle]

summer plans be like

[moonlight-rider25]

Winchester Girl, chapter 7

⚠️Warnings⚠️ rated R, swearing, oral, smoking, unprotected sex.

Previously on Winchester Girl

…slowly walk back toward the car from Nannies plot.

A cardinal, odd for this time of year, flies overhead landing on a branch nearby ahead of you and Jenni. You cast your look towards the bright bird as it tweets towards you and smile, a sad grin towards it.

Nannie..

Behind the bird you spy two large figures dressed in casual clothes approaching you and your sister. You cast your puffy face down trying to keep the visitors from seeing your face, but your sister catches a good look, and informs you two tall sexy men are walking directly towards the two of you. After a brief moment of panic, you quickly realize; it's no strangers...

On the road from New York to Massachutes, present day.

The sun over the road is piercing directly down, and you shift a bit while peeling your coat off and placing it on the floor at your feet. Dean smiles and eyes you a bit, as you shimmy from the passengers side seat. He whistles and you shoot him a sly smirk before leaning back against the seat and pulling your phone out to see if Sam has texted you. The radio belts out some 70’s rock music as Dean taps his finger against the steering wheel.

You drop your phone beside you on the seat and stare anxiously out the window beside you.

“I don’t know how you guys can do this all the time..” You say almost to yourself as you watch the silver trail of side rails fly by the window.

“What? You used to do it right alongside us!” Dean says, peering over towards you.

“No, not the hunting..” You say still looking out at the racing pavement. “These long ass drives to and from the hunt.” You answer after a sigh. “It's so long and…boring really.” You tell him, brushing your hair out of your face.

“Nah, come on, its not that bad.” Dean smirks while his hand drops to your thigh giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“You’re just going soft on us, momma.”

You snicker a bit and roll your eyes as you watch him; one arm out on the wheel, the other placed firmly on your thigh as you speed down the highway beside him.

How many times you had pictured this very image in your mind, how many times you rode beside him trying to suppress the feelings you had towards him as he sat unknowingly, beside you. More times than not, regretting how badly you knew Sam would feel if he ever got wind that you looked at his big brother in some of the same ways you looked at him.

So much time had passed now, you wondered if things could be different between you and the brothers…

“Why don’t we stop for some grub, huh?” Dean interrupts your thoughts.

Dean pulls off the side of the highway and aimlessly drives down the unfamiliar roads in search of some food. You peer down at your phone hesitating to text Sam yet again, letting him know you’re stopping for food. You peer up for a moment spying a ‘Chik-fil-a’.

“Oh stop here! Please, I love this place!” You say giddy.

Dean turns in and strolls through the parking lot as you lock your phone. He shifts the car into park and steps out onto the hot pavement.

“God, I could really go for a cigarette..” You say quietly, flopping your purse strap up over your shoulder.

“Don’t you dare! …You know how gross that tastes?” He asks coldly.

“Oh come on, you loved it.” You say with a hushed giggle.

“..Would've been even better if your mouth didn’t taste like an ashtray.” He says opening the door for you, watching your ass as you walk past him.

Inside there's a long line swirling through the lobby to the front of the counter.

“Jesus, people and their fried chicken, huh?” He asks, peering around over the long-formed line.

“It’s like, the best fried chicken you’ll ever have…” You tell him happily.

He shoots you a disapproving look.

“Well, fast food fried chicken anyway…” You add peering up at his sparkling green eyes.

You grab him by his huge hand and lead him over to the line and read off the choices from the menu you think he'd like.

“Yeah, sure, get all of it..” he says, stirring in place a bit.

“All of it! Thats a lot of fucking food, even for you Dean!” You say with a smirk.

“Yeah well… Snacks for later..” he says while his eyes dart in every direction around him.

“Dean relax…” You try to calm him.

“...There's too many damn people around. This is why I hate these stupid food chain joints!” He says still peering around the crowd.

“...I can’t do this, you just order whatever and bring it out to the car.” He says, handing you his stolen credit card.

“No!” You say peering up disapprovingly at him.

“Come on,” he pleads, pressing the card against your hand.

“I won't be able to carry it all by myself!” You protest. “The line will move quickly, come on it's not that bad.” You say slipping your arm in through his.

You watch as his huge broad shoulders tense up as his gaze darts around the room. You squeeze his hand a bit and his eyes shoot down to you. He smiles coyly and wraps his fingers around your hand, relaxing a bit.

“If you can slay monsters….” you say quietly against his chest, “..You can deal with a crowded room of people..”

You feel him shake a bit with a chuckle, and he squeezes your hand again.

You order two meals at the counter and he grabs the tray with a scowl as you lead him over to an empty table in the lobby. You hand him his chicken sandwich and he unwraps it; unamused, rolling his eyes as he takes the first bite. You watch him, trying to bite back your smirk as you see his eyes pop up to you as he starts chewing happily.

“Well, goddamn..!” He says, with his mouth full.

“I know, right!?” You say allowing the smile to grow across your face.

He chuckles, taking another bite and you eagerly begin to dive into your own sandwich.

~~~~

Soon, you’ve both devoured the amazing fried chicken sandwiches and make a stop in the bathroom before heading back out to head home. You stare towards the mirror fixing your hair on top of your head in a bun, and search through your purse for a piece of gum, or mint, or anything to make your mouth not taste like fried chicken…and cigarettes. All you come up with is a travel size bottle of kids bubblegum mouthwash and decide, it's better than nothing. You take a mouthful and swish it around a bit before spitting into the sink and adjusting your shirt and jacket again before walking back outside.

Dean waits, leaning against ‘baby’ as you stride towards him with a smile. He eyes you devilishly, as you strut slowly towards him, swaying your hips a bit more than usual. You approach him and cock your head to the side watching him eye you before peering down into your purse. He watches you as you pull out the almost new pack of cigarettes and hand them to him.

“Here…no more ashtray mouth.. I promise.” You say pressing them into his big hand.

He stares down at the little red carton and smiles, quickly glancing back up watching you inch away towards your side of the car, and reaches out catching your arm with his. He pulls you back towards him and grips you by your waist, setting his big plump pink lips on yours. You reach up and caress his strong broad neck with your hands, while sucking at his thick velvety tongue in your mouth. He pulls away with a curious look on his face.

“Is that..bubblegum?” He asks through a snicker.

You allow a laugh to spill from your mouth as you break from his grasp and trail around the front of the car and open the door.

“Not bad.. " he says from the driver's seat. He leans in beside you.

“You uh, gunns let me taste it again?..” he says, reaching for your face with his huge hand and pulls you towards him.

You press against his chest, leaning into him and he groans happily beneath you.

“So, how about that rain check…” He says with a thick smirk as you push him away.

“I’m sure ‘baby’ has had her fair share of romantic encounters.” You tease him, “Besides, car sex is the worst.”

“It’s not that bad, it's actually pretty roomy back there..” he says nodding towards the back seat.

“Oh good!... Just add another reason not to! You say sarcastically. “...Just another notch on your dash!”

“Please, like I would do that to ‘baby’.” He says low with a smirk.

You smile a bit peering at your phone in your hand reading 1:23pm on the screen.

“That, and I’de probably have run out room already….” He adds licking his lips seductively with a chuckle.

You reach over and playfully jab him in the thigh with a scowl on your face.

“Uhg, Dean! Gross!” You tell him through clenched teeth.

“Oh, come on, it's a little funny..” he adds, still chuckling.

You roll your eyes and purposely ignore his hand extended out towards you to hold.

“Really, Y/N?” He says reaching out to grab your hand again. “...Stop it! Come here..”

You cross your arms stubbornly and look out your window, side eyeing him a bit as he sighs and retracts his hand finally.

Dean huffs before starting the engine and rolling out of the parking lot heading back towards the highway.

‘I refuse to be a notch on your dash, Dean Winchester… …run out of room already, jesus christ… …like I'm just any other booty call… I'll show you…

Looking over at the man who's made your chest tight and your legs weak for far too long. His perfectly chiseled jaw and neck bulged over his huge strong broad shoulders. He's so goddamn handsome, you can't even stay mad at him as he stares out the window in front of him, unbenounced to the devilish idea brewing in your mind.

“...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it that way…” Dean adds peering through his rear mirrors as he merges.

You peer over to him with a softened look and wait for him to meet your look. He turns his head a few times from the road and back to you, a smile growing wide across his face.

“What?” He says completely clueless.

You scoot over towards him trying to hide your grin from his view. You glide your hand up under his shirt, across his huge chiseled chest…

“..Hey, oh…

You caress his neck tenderly, peppering hot wet kisses along his broad neck and shoulder.

“Aw shit, Y/N..” he grunts, sucking a deep breath in.

You suck a bit at the nape of his neck moaning against his skin.

“I’m not a notch, am I?” You ask teasing a bit.

He hums a bit with laughter for a second before replying.

“You’re something alright..”

You gently bite his soft skin against his shoulder and he winces. You continue to press a soft kiss against his bite mark and trail more kisses up his neck under his ear.

“What am I to you Dean?” You ask in a ragged whisper in his ear.

“You’re fucking perfect..” He says before turning towards you and colliding his lips with your for a second.

You pull back in fear he must be swerving and look out towards the road. You trail more hot wet kisses up and down his neck, lapping at his ear lobe a bit as he groans happily.

“...Do I need to pull over?..” He huffs leaning in against you.

“Uh, uh…” You groan against him. “..Don’t you dare… Just don’t kill us..” You add trailing your hand down to his waist.

Dean groans happily as you pluck your mouth from his neck and gently pry open the front of his jeans. He adjusts his pants and scoots down a bit while you gently pull back his taunt cotton boxers and his huge hard cock springs free. He grunts a bit as you take it in your hand and run your tongue across the top of it, you hear him hum happily as you wrap your hand around his pulsing shaft and circle your tongue around him. You wrap your lips around him and suck him into the back of your mouth, Dean's hand reaches down and caresses the back of your head.

You bob up and down with your mouth and hand running your tongue up and down his huge hard shaft.

“Uhhg, Y/N!” He grunts above you.

You move faster stroking and lapping at him under you, growing wet with anticipation that one wrong move and you'd both be toast, going 80+ down the highway.

You feel him tense as he enjoys the pleasure you're giving him. You pick up your pace and coil your hot wet tongue around him as he thrusts up towards you, almost ready to explode down your throat. You flick his pulsating tip with your tongue as you stroke him as fast as you can. He thrusts up towards you, grabbing at your bun as you suck eagerly feeling the warm white milky substance burst from his tip. You keep your head over him, still stroking as he bursts between your lips exploding with moans and groans from above. You finally sit back a bit breathless and he beams a giant grin at you.

“Are you kidding me?” He says through heavy breaths.

You wipe at your mouth sure you're covered in…everything currently.

“I was missing out on that all these years?!” He says a bit louder, adjusting his pants and pressing the gas all the way to the floor.

“Oh my God, Dean!” You say bracing yourself against the seat.

“Oh no…I uhg… I need to taste that pussy…” he says with a giant grin as he speeds down the highway weaving through cars.

You lean your head back against the seat cackling to yourself as you watch the speed gage hit 90, 100, 110, while he seamlessly weaves through cars, vans, trucks, and 18 wheelers. He spies the next exit and hits the exit ram, still going 80.

You grip his thigh with your hand and laugh against him as his eyes dart across the road looking for a hotel, motel, anything he can take you to and lay you down in.

“...You sure, it's still a hard no to the backseat?” He asks.

You giggle leaning against your door as he pulls into a hotel parking lot.

“I always thought back roads were kind of romantic…” You say through fits of laughter spilling from you.

“Really!?” he asks, surprised.

Not waiting for a reply, Dean speeds off towards a darkened ‘dead end’ and backs into it.

You hop over the back seat leaning up against the back passenger's side door, still giggling as you take off your jacket, boots, and jeans. Dean jumps out from the driver's seat and throws his jacket in on the front seat before shutting the front door.

He opens the back door and grins at you, before standing up and making sure no one else is around. Just the trees and nature on that dirt road, to hear the screams Deans about to pry from you.

He then climbs in towards you and shuts the door behind himself as he holds himself hovering over your half naked body. He meets his lips with yours and you eagerly swallow down his flavor as you caress your hands up against his face, down his neck, and through his hair.

“You sure you're okay with this?..” he asks in a low gruff voice.

“Well…no..but I guess it’ll have to do now wont it?” You say grinding against him.

He pulls his face away from yours and nestles it down in the crook of your neck. A heavy sigh comes from him as you caress the back of his head while his eyes meet yours meaningfully.

“Y/N…it doesn't have to be like this..” he says softly.

You reach up and caress his soft jaw where the stubble is growing in.

“Dean, I wouldn’t have hopped in the back if I didn't want this..” You say softly against his lips, still stroking his strong brave jaw.

He captures your lips in his mouth and tenderly devours you. You climb over his lap and straddle him, plucking his gray tee up over his head. Dean's lips trailing down your cheek, neck, shoulders, and chest. His hand slides up under your tank top and he gently grazes his huge rough fingertips against your soft belly, then around to the back of your bra.

“Y/N…” He groans against you. “Just say the word and I’ll stop..okay?”

You hold his face in your little hands and peer into his eyes as you nod. But you know there is just about nothing in this world that will make you want to stop. The feeling of this giant amazing perfect man you're sitting half naked on top of, who you've longed and lusted for, for so long…no way in hell are you letting him stop…

You grind against his lap and he groans as your tongues combine. His huge hot fingertips pluck the dainty black bra down off your shoulders and his warm calloused palms begin kneading at your sensitive breasts. Your hands caress around the back of his neck and gently comb through his hair. His mouth trails down your neck and begins lapping and pressing soft hot kisses on your hard pink nipples as you groan above him, clutching at his head while you gasp.

You feel his hand softly creeping down your stomach and between your thighs while his tongue circles around your breast still. His huge fingers rub gently against the thin fabric between your legs and you moan out as his touch ignites a fire within your core.

“Jesus, you're soaked Y/N…” He says with a devilish smile.

Dean plucks the thin damp fabric of your lace undies and you feel the iron hot touch of his fingertips against your wet aching core. You bite back your lip and his mouth reaches up to yours, capturing your moans as he gently slips his fingertips in between your slick folds.

“Dean!” You moan against him with a huff.”

“I love it when you say my name.” He says, smiling against your lips before you pull away, arching your back; forcing his fingers in deeper.

He curls his fingers up into you, in and out as you moan louder. Dean grips your ass and holds you still against his lap as he steadily glides his hand in and out against your sensitive bud.

“God damn, you are so sexy, you know that?” Dean groans between kisses.

You feel your stomach coil and tighten as your high begins to rush through you so quickly. You brace your hands against his shoulders digging your nails into his damp soft skin as you vibrate in pleasure on top of him.

“That's it momma, cum for me…” He says in a husky tone.

After waiting so long for this to happen, you can’t allow it to be over so fast. You don’t ever want this feeling to stop, but Dean's fingers pry your high from you regardless of how hard you try to fight it.

“FUCK DEAN!” You yell out.

You cling against him, your breasts against his face as your insides swirl with intense pleasure while he fingers you to your edge.

“STOP!” You cry out abruptly.

Dean pulls you back as you moan against him. His face; ridden with worry and regret as you capture your mouth with his.

“Stop?!” He asks breathless.

“I..I don’t want…” He clutches your waist in his huge knuckles.

“I don’t want to cum yet…” you say in a ragged voice panting.

He smiles and flips you onto your back against the seat of ‘baby’, you reach down and eagerly try and pluck his hard cock from his pants as he leans over you planting hot heavy kisses down your neck and shoulder.

“Well, I do..” He whispers against you.

His pulsing member in your hand ready for you as he presses a long gentle kiss on your lips, he pulls the wet cotton of your panties aside again and gently presses his huge hot tip against your entrance. You groan against him, gripping the soft back part of his neck, your eyes flutter as you feel him, pressing within you. Dean captures your mouth with his and sucks the moans escaping your throat as he presses himself completely inside you. You grind up against him already feeling the pleasure coiling up again in your stomach as you moan against him.

“Y/N!” Dean groans against you.

Suddenly, your phone buzzes in the front seat of your pants pocket.

You wrap your legs around Dean who leans down against you as your stomach flutters and your legs quiver. You pant against each other in a sweaty heap in the back seat while your phone rings out.

“Let it ring!” Dean groans.

(Finn!) You think to yourself as you push him off of you with a sigh and reach over the seats scrambling for your phone.

Dean reluctantly sits up panting when you see Sams name flashed on the screen. You swallow hard before putting the phone to your ear…

“Hello!” You say swallowing back a huff.

“Y/N, I’m so sorry, I just…

Your mind races, unsure of what you're hearing…

"Sam?..." you ask swallowing back the breathlessness in your voice

“...Y/N…Finns gone!”

~~~~

Massachusetts 7 years ago.

Nannie..

Behind the bird, you spy two large figures dressed in casual clothes approaching you and your sister. You cast your puffy face down, trying to keep the visitors from seeing your face, but your sister catches a good look and informs you that ‘two tall sexy men’ are walking directly towards the two of you. After a brief moment of panic, you quickly realize; it's no strangers.

You wipe at your face, sniffling the crying voice back down your throat, trying to compose yourself as best you can while Jenni seductively tosses her hair back over her shoulders and adjusts her big new fake boobs. Sam and Dean tower above the two of you as they creep closer. You decide now is not the time to make a bigger deal than you’re sure Jenni already will, so you carefully reach for Sam and hug him before he has much of a chance to see your tear streaked red face.

“I’m so sorry Y/N,” Sam mumbles quietly against your head.

You try desperately to blink back the tears that are welling up in your eyes yet again and pull back before wiping at your face with a forced smile.

“It's alright..” you tell him sniffling. “..She's not suffering anymore so..” you take a deep sigh and try to nod reassuringly in their direction.

Jenni elbows you a bit, stirring anxiously staring up at the two men before her. You cast her a glare before turning back towards them and clear your throat a bit.

“Sam, Dean, this is my sister Jenni…” You tell them through a strained fake pleasant voice. “Jenni, this is my…Sam and Dean… Who I lived with out in Kansas…” you tell her with a warning look.

Jenni reaches out and shakes both their hands with fluttering flirty eyes as you try your best to hide the eye roll on your face. Dean scoffs a laugh as he eyes Jenni up and down a few times, and you stir anxiously watching your sister show off her new boobs to the boys.

“...Now I see why you stayed out in Kansas..”, she tells you with a saucy grin, eyeing the boys.

You suck your cheeks in against your teeth before shaking your head as you watch your mother stumble over towards the group.

Sam notices your eyes gloss over in fear as your mom walks towards you, Sam turns his head with you, spying the thin lady with sunken cheeks, carrying her black heels flung over her shoulder towards him. He peers back at you with a grin before back towards her and extending his arm out to her.

“...Mrs. Y/L/N, Hi! I’m Sam, it's nice to finally meet you.” He says calmly, addressing her.

You mom stops; eyeing the tall man before her, his hand outstretched towards her.

“...The fuck?...Who?!..” She asks with a scowl on her face.

“Mom!” You spat towards her.

She peers at you through thin slitted eyes, wavering in place as she sizes up Sam.

“This is Sam! Who I stayed with in Kansas, you’ve talked to him on facetime countless times..” you tell her coldly.

“Oh!” She says with an eye roll, “Well excuse me! Hi Sam! Nice to finally meet ya!” She says still not shaking his hand.

She waveres in place for a few moments, watching you and Sam stand before her, your face stricken with horror and embarrassment, while Sam politely smiles.

You flash Sam an apologetic look, Dean and Jenni in their own conversation on the other side of you, presumably about Jenni’s new boobs or something pathetic.

“Well, Sam…” You mom says dropping her hand holding her heels to her side. “Can I bum a smoke?” She asks nonchalantly.

“Mom! He doesn’t smoke, you know this!..” You tell her with a warning tone in your voice.

Sam smiles anxiously towards you and tries to reassure your mother he has none before she disregards him completely and informs you she’s heading off downtown for the evening. You smile your best fake face towards her as she waltzes off, wavering back and forth as she does.

You sigh a deep breath of relief as Sam turns towards you with a snicker.

“I’m so sorry…about her…she's…”

“No! Don’t apologize, I know… I mean, I get it..” Sam tries to reassure you.

You shake your head a bit peering up at his glimmering green eyes as he smiles back down at you.

“Yeah…We’re kind of a three ring circus over here..” you tell him with a disappointed look. “...Kind of why I never brought you here…” You add.

“Oh, come on, it's not that bad…” He tells you with another smile.

You cross your arms over your chest and dramatically cast your look over to Jenni and Dean who are getting along far better than they should be, especially at a funeral!

“Yeah… sure…” You tell Sam with a faint smile.

The two of you pace slowly towards the road lined with fewer cars than earlier, catching up on details from each other's lives over the past three months. Neither of you daring to utter any mentioning of the fall out, break up, the end of whatever it was you both never cared to put a label on… or dared to. Regardless, you both knew to stare clear of the subject. You informed him on law and order reruns and doctor’s visits while he informed you of hunts he and Dean had successfully taken care of; ghouls, a coven of witches, vampires and the like.

Finally after some very slow walking towards your car, he finally dared to mention the unmentionable.

“I should have come with you..” Sam says with a huff shoving his hands deep into his jean pockets.

“Sam, it's fine..It wouldn't have changed anything..” You tell him peering down towards the pavement.

“I know but… I should have been here for you..” he says, while you avoid his look.

“It’s fine, I’m a big girl..” You say staring off in the distance.

He blinks rapidly as you finally meet his eye, and your breath catches in your throat a bit knowing he feels to blame for the wedge that was created while you two were apart.

“I belong here..” you tell him regretfully, watching his eyes fall a bit, confirming his greatest fear.

“..I’ve got my mom to look after, and… I gotta figure out what I’m doing with Nannies stuff and the house…” You tell him apologetically.

Sam stares back off into the distance over your car, wiping his huge hand across his mouth as he shakes his head understanding your words…

You’re not coming back.

“I’m sorry Sam.” you tell him with a heavy sigh. “..You didn’t deserve…”

Dean's voice booms from across the cemetery cutting you off.

“Sammy!” he shouts, pacing swiftly towards the two of you.

Dean leans over the top of ‘baby’ looking towards you and Sam. He clears his throat a bit then smirks as his gaze steadies on you.

“So, when ya’ coming home?” He asks all too joyfully.

You blink a long regrettable pause and open your eyes peering back up at Sam. His look reassures you he understands the answer, but it doesn't make the words any less difficult to get out.

“..I’m not…”

[mind-empty-just-fictional-people]

Too Many Beds

main masterlist | supernatural masterlist 

summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again

pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader

rating: R for language

word count: 2.1k 

warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad

timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one

author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol

You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family. 

When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.

So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).

“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.

“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”

“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”

“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”

There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.

“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash. 

“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.

You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.

“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”

“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.

“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints. 

**

“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.

You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”

“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.

“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.

“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”

You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”

“Understood.” He nodded.

You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.

“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.

“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”

**

You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping. 

And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation. 

As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face. 

“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.

“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”

“I thought it looked familiar.”

He rolled off of you and out of bed. 

You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.

“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”

“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.

**

You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!? 

It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since. 

But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.

Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example. 

**

“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.

“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied. 

You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!

“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.

“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile. 

“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you. 

God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.

**

It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake. 

“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.

“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”

You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.

“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.

**

“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”

Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message. 

“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.

Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound. 

As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.

“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”

“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you. 

You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.

“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”

“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face. 

“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”

“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”

“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him. 

“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”

“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…” 

You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips. 

“That,” Dean finished his previous statement. 

“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”

“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.

You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly. 

“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered. 

“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”

“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”

Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.

You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again. 

“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”

You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”

“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”

“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.

“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”

As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.

“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”

“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed. 

“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.

“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”

“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”

“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”

“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.

“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”

“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.

[zepskies]

IF I STAY - Part 1

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus-Sized!Reader

Summary: Your dream is to work with kids as an elementary school teacher. Dean is well on his way to becoming a firefighter, keeping things light and “strings unattached” as he goes. After a one-night stand you never saw coming, you and Dean are forced to deal with the consequences…and figure out if the connection between you is worth fighting for.

AN: Yes, here’s another firefighter AU! Based on a request from one of my lovely Patreon members: @redhoodieone. She requested pretty much all the major beats of this story, so hopefully I did her request justice! This is also partially inspired by Fools Rush In, a beautiful movie with Salma Hayek and Matthew Perry (Rest in Peace, King).

Song Inspo: “I Can’t Help Falling in Love” by Elvis

Word Count: 8.7K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, thick thirty, hints of body insecurity, but also body appreciation, angst, and hurt/comfort.

❤️‍🔥 If I Stay Masterlist

Part 1: Fools Rush In

Slowly, your eyes slide open into the waking world. Your head is resting on something warm, firm…and a little sweaty. You pick your head up, despite the disorienting, muddy feeling of a slight hangover.

A groan bubbles in your throat. Your gaze travels downward, and you realize that what you’re looking at is more of a who.

Your eyes widen. Oh…my…God…

Not only are you very naked, but your firm pillow is too. It happens to be your best friend’s brother.

Yes, holy fucking shit! You slept with your best friend’s brother.

Biting the inside of your lip, you can’t help but take him in, here in the raw light of day as he lays peacefully on his back. His head lolls to the side on your usual pillow. Your eyes roam over the bow of his lips, the dark eyebrows, lightish brown hair that's softer than it should be between your fingers.

He’s painfully handsome. There’s a slight hesitation in your touch, but you softly trace the cut of his jaw and the stubble spread across it. That roughness feels familiar, and not just under the pads of your fingers, though the thought makes you blush. You begin to remember the night before, almost like a movie reel through your mind… 

Ooooh, right. That’s what happened.

It starts at Sam Winchester’s joint bachelor-bachelorette party at a nice hotel downtown. He and Eileen aren't the "strippers and coke" kind of party couple. They're more the "wine and brie en croute with pickled olives" on the expensive crackers you can't afford—kind of couple.

They look perfectly in love, if a bit long-suffering while Dean gives a hilarious, somewhat inappropriate, but still ultimately heartwarming toast to their happiness. After lowering the glass of champagne from his lips, his gaze catches on yours in the crowd. You suck in a subtle breath. 

Technically you’ve met him already, being one of Eileen’s bridesmaids, but there’s something about his green eyes that pin you to the floor. When he hands over the mic to Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, his head turning away from you to offer her a smile breaks the spell. It allows you to breathe.

Dean later finds you by the bar. You’re drinking a rum and coke with your slice of cake, trying not to get a single crumb on your dress. You've put a lot of work into affording it, let alone fitting in it. He leans his elbows casually on the counter and looks over at you.

“Hey, how’s it going?” he nods at you with a smile, subtly taking you in first. Then, his eyes go to your plate. “Ooh, red velvet. Gotta get me some of that.”

You smile back at him. “It’s pretty good.”

“Yeah, looks good in your hand,” he says, adding a teasing wink for good measure.

You don't know why that does it for you, but a half-flattered, half-nervous laugh tumbles out of your mouth. Sam has warned you before about Dean. Apparently his older brother is a bit of a flirt; a ladies’ man.

A man whore, are the words Eileen used.

You’re honestly surprised he’s talking to you when Eileen’s other bridesmaids, Lisa and Jo, are sipping martinis together down at the other end of the bar. Guess they didn’t want cake.

They look beautiful in their lithe, strapless little cocktail dresses. You’ve had to give up chocolate, bread, and cheese for three months straight to fit into this dress, something slinky and red that drapes over your thicker, curvy figure. But you’re proud of the fact that you’re letting yourself eat cake tonight, even though you’ve often felt like Mrs. Doubtfire while standing for pictures next to Lisa and Jo.

They’re Eileen’s friends, not so much your crowd. No matter how much you’ve tried to get to know them while helping the wedding planning in whatever way you can, you still get a high school clique vibe from the women, if with more “polite smiles.” Then they’ll typically go back to talking about crystal centerpieces—or whatever in-depth conversation they were having before you were there. 

But right now, Dean’s focus is on you. When he asks you more about yourself, you tell him about recently earning an elementary education degree.

“Ah, but you already knew that, because Sam told you we graduated college together,” you realize, with warmth tingeing your cheeks. That subject came up pretty quickly when he introduced you to his brother.

Dean’s smile confirms your suspicions, so you just keep filling the silence on reflex.

“Well, I actually just started teaching my first ever semester of second graders. They’re a bit of a handful, but overall, they’re really sweet.” Your smile falters. “Except for this one kid who likes to put little tacks on my chair. He’s kind of a menace, but I think if I bribe him with enough lollipops, he’ll give it a rest. I mean, it’s a behavioral issue and I should probably call his parents. But it's kind of hard to tell them their son is trying to make my ass into a pincushion."

Dean's laugh comes out in a sharp burst, like he wasn't expecting what just came out of your mouth. You didn't either, honestly. You giggle more out of embarrassment, ducking your head.

"He’s in second grade, you know?" you say, in between laughter. "I don't think that little footnote needs to end up on his permanent record. But then there's Micah. He's so friggin' smart. He can read at the fifth grade level already. Can you believe that? And I know I'm not supposed to have favorites, but his grades on his spelling tests get him a spot in the comfy bean bag chair pretty much every Friday. Honestly, I think that's what I like about working with kids. I get to see that spark on their face when something just finally clicks for them. Their little faces get all bright and happy and…ugh. God, I'm sorry. I'm rambling, right?”

You stop yourself with a hand sliding over your mouth, not quite covering your smile of embarrassment.

Dean’s grin just widens, making the corners of his eyes crinkle. 

"It's okay. I kinda like it," he teases.

You duck your head, biting your lip against a groan. He chuckles and reaches out for your hand, earning your nervous glance. He quirks his head.

“Hey, you're passionate about what you do, helping kids. That's nothin' to be ashamed of,” he says, brushing his thumb over your hand. “But sweetheart, I gotta ask. Am I making you nervous or something?”

God, yes, you think, especially at that sweetheart thing. It’s making your heartbeat tick up a syncopated rhythm, but you shake your head, biting the straw of your rum and coke.

“No, not at all,” you say, in a hopefully “breezy” kind of way. You touch your fingers to his wrist. “Tell me about you though. Sam mentioned that you’re a firefighter?”

“Ah, yeah. Firefighter in training,” he says, with a more genuine smile.

He just started at the Fire Academy, and he tells you about all the drills he’s had to learn and all the training he’s had to do to be able to keep up with his classes. You subtly eye him while you sip at your drink, and you notice the crisp cut of his buttoned-down shirt and leather jacket, the definition of muscle across his thighs under the slacks, even while he casually sits.

Your gaze subtly travels down his long bowed legs, smart dress shoes. His cologne is woody and masculine, but not overpowering; maybe bergemot and sandalwood. It pleasantly wafts under your nose every time he gestures with his hands while he talks.

“Aw man, I can’t hold out anymore. I think I need to get me some of that cake before it’s gone,” he says, getting up from his chair.

You’re a bit disappointed that he’s leaving, until he stops short.

“You want another piece?” he offers, gesturing at your empty plate that’s been resting on the counter.

You blink in surprise, but you shake your head. “Oh, no. I probably shouldn’t.”

“Why not? It’s a party,” Dean reasons. His grin is too damn infectious. It has you smiling, and begrudgingly agreeing.

Not only does he bring you more cake, but you watch him eat three whole slices before he asks you to dance.

The rest of it flashes through your mind like strobe lights—the way he’d started small and respectful with his larger hand closed over yours and the other along the curve of your waist. He guided you closer and closer, until you were turned around into his arms, and you could feel his warm breath on your neck.

You felt his lips teasing your skin. Then those hands tantalizingly drifted down your every soft curve, as if showing you a preview of everything he could do to you, and every way he’d make you come apart. You believed him.

And when he whispered in your ear, asking if he could take you home, you let him.

You let him drive you in that big black piece of history he drives. Used to be my dad’s car, he said. A Chevy something. You couldn’t really remember much when his hand was drifting up and down your thigh like that.

His presence burned hot at your back when you two eventually got to the front door of your apartment, your hands just barely shaking as you got the key in. Twist and click—

He waited until you flipped the lights on. Then he turned you around slowly in his arms and pulled you in close, all the while asking you with his eyes and raised brows. This okay? You want this?

“Do I still make you nervous?” he asked, his lips twitching at a smile when yours do.

You nodded, uttering a small giggle. “In a good way.”

That was when he finally kissed you, hot and slow, like he meant to devour you whole. He moaned at the taste of you, at the feel of your ass squeezed in his hands. You clung onto him strong, breathing into his kiss and trying to meet every single demand of his lips.

It soon became a fiery tear to your bedroom, one lamp flicked on, hot breaths and nice clothes crumpled to the floor. You didn’t feel self-conscious even once when he guided you under him on the bed, because he wasted no time in taking you apart, inch by inch.

His lips kissed and licked and sucked a burning trail down your neck, over your collarbone and between your breasts. You felt his hardened length trapped between your bodies while his hands explored you, teasing your breasts and sensitive nipples, and he mapped his way down with his lips.

You explored every part of him you could—every dip of muscle, firm shoulders and the slopes of his back, and then back up to tangle in his hair. Your heated gasps and whimpers filled the room when his sinful mouth found what it was looking for between your legs.

It wasn’t often that you had a strong pair of shoulders to rest your thighs on, but Dean’s grip was hard enough to leave deep fingerprints of pressure on each thigh while he slipped his tongue through your folds and feasted on you.

“D-Dean, oh God,” you gasped. Every sound you made was a sensuous symphony in his ears, washing over his skin and making the well of his desire churn hot in his lower belly. He had to roll his hips into the mattress for some relief for his aching cock, even while he moved his mouth up to your clit, circling the swollen bud with his tongue. He had enough room to slip two fingers deep inside your sopping wet channel, exploring you deeply, stroking and twisting to find what you needed.

Your thighs trembled and squeezed tight on either side of his head. When he sucked your clit tight between his lips, you uttered as gasping moan as that coil snapped its release. Your inner walls fluttered around his fingers. Yours clenched tightly in his hair, threatening to rip out a few strands.

Dean stroked you all through your first orgasm, giving slower licks to your clit. He seemed to sense when you couldn’t handle anymore though. You tugged more sharply on his hair, and he finally pulled away, moving back up your body to gauge your reaction.

You’d collapsed boneless against the bed, but you still managed to smile up at him as you caught your breath.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked. But his self-satisfied grin almost made you laugh. You took his glistening face between your hands and pulled him down for a grateful kiss.

After a moment to savor your lips, he broke away for a second to catch his breath himself. You stroked his back all the while.

“You know, for a minute down there, I thought you might not let me come back up,” he teased.

You choked on a laugh, covering your face in embarrassment.

“Honestly wouldn’t have minded if you did suffocate me,” he chuckled, accompanied by a slap to your left ass cheek. You squealed, and blushed hotly at the way he was grinning down at you.

“Ready for more, baby? Or you want to call it a night?” he asked. His tone was playful, but it was actually a serious question. You blinked in surprise. You’d never had a guy be this, well…generous, and not expect anything in return, especially not for just a hookup.

But you shook your head and sat up, slipping a hand behind Dean’s neck. After a beat of hesitation, you guided him down to you for a slow, sensuous kiss.

“No, I don’t want to call it a night,” you whispered. Your hand drifted down his bare chest, and lower still. You showed him just how well you could return the favor.

And now, come the morning, you’re blushing down to your neck as each scene flashes through your mind. You feel the ghost of his hands all over your body, and how you’d never quite felt quite as bold and sexy and beautiful with a near stranger as you had with Dean effing Winchester. Your best friend’s brother.

You begin to worry your bottom lip with your teeth. How the hell are you going to tell Sam? Especially after he warned you about exactly this. Plus, there’s a reason you don’t typically do the one-night stand thing, and this has the potential to become something very complicated.

You know what, it’s fine! you think. We’re two consenting adults. We’re both single. And maybe…maybe it could be more than a hookup. Maybe we can see each other again, see where it goes.

“What’re you thinking so hard about?” Dean says, his voice croaking with sleep.

You look down at him in surprise. His eyes have cracked open and he has your hand captive, stopping you from continuing to idly trace patterns on his bare chest. You smile in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” you say. Again, you bite your lower lip. “Um, good morning.”

“Morning, sweetheart,” he grins lazily. “You sure wore me out last night.”

Your smile becomes more genuine, even if you turn your face away somewhat shyly.

“Aw, don’t do that,” Dean says. He slides his hand up your arm and behind your neck, tangling into your already tangled hair when he guides you down to his lips for a kiss. “You were awesome.”

You giggle against his lips. “Really?”

“Hell, yeah,” he says, kissing you again.

You shake your head a little. “You were…”

Amazing. Unbelievable. Probably the best night I’ve ever had.

“Perfect,” you decide. Because it’s the truth. The word comes out of your mouth before you can filter yourself though, making you pause. Dean does too, but after a beat, he slowly smiles.

“Oh yeah?” he asks.

You lick your lips, and you nod. “Definitely.”

“Well, then,” he says. His hand moves down to squeeze your hip. “You down for a repeat performance?”

You smile. “Only if I get a turn.”

Bracing your hands on his chest, you slide your thigh across his lap so you can straddle his hips. Dean grins and goes along with your idea. He gets a nice healthy handful of your thighs and helps settle you on top of him. But first, he reaches over into your nightstand drawer and finds another condom, ripping it open with his teeth.

Just like you did for him last night, you take the packet, as well as his generous length in your hands. You gently stroke him to full mast, smiling pleased at his groan of pleasure. Then you carefully fit the condom over him.

“You’re so gentle with me,” he teases. 

“Just returning the favor,” you quip, just before you position him at your wet entrance. Slowly, you sink down over his cock.

You both moan at the feeling of him stretching you again, warm and thick and fitting perfectly nestled deep inside. There had been moments last night where he wasn’t all that gentle, actually, but his passion had only spurred yours on more. You know you’ll probably find fingerprint marks on your thighs and ass, but it’s fucking worth it, you think, as you begin to bob a rocking rhythm that serves you both.

Dean arches his back underneath you, his knees coming up to press against your ass.

“Goddamn, baby. Givin’ me quite a show,” he says, in a panting voice that’s deep as sin.

You utter a breathy laugh.

Dean means it though. He’s enjoying the way you brush your hair out of your face, your beautiful tits in his face while you truly let loose for him. He guides you by the stronghold he has on your hips, his fingers pressing into your soft flesh as he ruts up into you, meeting your thrusts.

Your breath quickens, your nails digging into his chest on reflex, and your heart races as that delicious pleasure builds. But when Dean snakes a hand between you and further parts your folds to massage tight circles over your clit, your vision flashes white. You utter a scream of pleasure on his name, your inner walls choking him tight as you throb around his cock. His release hits him like a goddamn freight train.

“Aw, fuck,” he grunts.

He slams your hips down hard, making your thighs slap against his. A ragged groan escapes him in a rush. His hands move to your thighs just under your ass, where his fingers press into flesh hard enough to leave forensic ID, giving him leverage to bury himself deep into your pussy as he spills a hot release into the condom.

Goddamn…

He can almost imagine that he’s coming free inside you, that you’re milking his cock for every drop, until there’s nothing left for him to give.

The thought surprises him. It almost takes him out of the moment, honestly. That’s not a thought he’s ever had before—not with a woman he barely knows (which is most of his hookups, if he’s honest).

In that delicious, fractious moment just after it hits, it’s like those few seconds are suspended in zero gravity. Your arms are shaking, and your forced to collapse against his chest. Dean welcomes you there for a little while, letting you come down while he smooths a hand over your hair.

Though he can't help the urge to let his big hand drift down over your dewy skin, down the gentle slope of your back and over the curve of your generous ass. He gives one cheek a teasing slap. The sound echoes in the room.

"Goddamn perfect ass," he says roughly, smirking at your squeal. You end up grinning hard against his neck.

"'S that my new nickname?" you quip.

He chuckles deeply, moving you along with his chest. "Hell, sweetheart, if you want it to be."

Eventually, you lean back to give him a smile and one last kiss before you pull away from him. You slip off his lap to find your robe, at least. You definitely need a shower.

“So I’m thinking, after we get cleaned up, I could make us some breakfast,” you offer. “Or if you want, maybe we could go somewhere. I know a little diner down the block.”

“I like the sound of food,” Dean agrees with a smile. Ge reaches over for his phone on the nightstand, to check the time. His eyes widen. “Oh, shit.”

He has to get his ass over to the Fire Academy. He has class in barely twenty minutes.

He tears out of bed and nearly trips on the coiled sheets.

“Sorry. Gonna need to take a raincheck,” he says. He hurries to find his clothes strewn all over your bedside floor.

“What’s the matter?” you ask with wide eyes. You cross your arms under your breasts, but it’s more like you’re hugging yourself over your robe. You watch him tear through your bedroom in a tempest of movement.

Dean spares you a glance, but not much else as he yanks up his slacks and belt and dress shirt.

“Gotta get to class,” he confesses. Thank God he has his uniform in the trunk of his car for exactly these kinds of emergencies. He grabs his phone, wallet, and keys, and quickly kisses you on the cheek. He gazes down at you apologetically. “Sorry I gotta cut and run, sweetheart, but it’s been fun.”

Your smile barely reaches your eyes. He’s pressed for time, but he still notices.

He slows himself down and cups your cheek. “Hey.”

He gets your pretty eyes looking up at him, and he gives you a real kiss, nice and slow. He cradles your cheek and brushes his thumb across your skin.

“Thanks,” he says. His now familiar grin manages to make you smile. “And I mean that.”

You shake your head at him. “Okay go, Mr. Future Fireman. Be safe out there, okay?”

He gives you a playful salute. “Yes, ma’am.”

You can’t help but laugh. This guy’s too much. But you don't think you've had this much fun having sex in...

All right, let's not put a timeframe on it.

You watch him leave your apartment, even though you have a sinking feeling in your chest. You knew this was just a hookup for him, for both of you. Part of you just couldn’t help hoping that it could’ve led to something more. 

Dean means to call you.

He really does.

After that truly awesome, you shook me all night long, kind of a night, he thinks about you more than he’d like to admit over the next few weeks. However, he finds himself locked into his training. He’s so close to finishing strong and earning his badge, he just can’t afford any more distractions.

Still, he should’ve known that Sam would find out—either through Eileen, or through you directly. He also should’ve expected the way his brother let him have it.

“And you didn’t even fucking call her. See? This is why I don’t set you up with any of my friends anymore,” Sam bitches at him from his side of the small two-seater dinner table. They still share an apartment, though in just a month and a half, Sam’s going to be moving out. He and Eileen already found a house that they’re moving into after the wedding.

“Look, I was going to call her, man. They’ve just been bustin’ my ass at the Academy!” Dean argues.

“Bullshit.” Sam levels him with the same finger that holds his beer.

Dean’s brows raise, high and annoyed. “Oh, really?”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. Because if you really liked her, respected her, and respected me, you would’ve made the time,” Sam says.

That falls heavy between the brothers for a moment while they eat their pizza.

“Look, I know her. She doesn’t do hookups that often, which means…she probably liked you,” Sam adds. “And honestly, when are you going to give it a real try with someone? You can only visit that free clinic so many times.”

Dean shoots him a glare. He’s had a clean bill of health from said clinic for six months straight.

“Jesus Christ. Enough, all right?” he grouses. “What’re you, Mom?”

“I’m just saying,” Sam says, lowering his crust to the plate. He levels his brother with a more earnest look, lightening up from his anger. “Look, if it’s about what happened to Dad—”

“What, you mean the way he drank himself to death after Mom died?” Dean says. His voice cuts through whatever softball glove Sam is trying to handle him with. “You think that’s the kind of thing I should be looking for in my life?”

“Oh, and what, do you think I’m making a mistake marrying Eileen?” Sam counters.

Dean sighs, shaking his head. “Damn it, don’t put words in my mouth. That’s not what I’m saying, it’s just…I don’t know. Maybe that kind of life—the house, the wife, the 2.5 kids and the dog. Maybe that’s just not my life, okay?”

Sam gives him a long look. He lets go of a deep breath, and he shrugs.

“Okay,” he says. “If you think hooking up night after night for the rest of your life is going to make you happy, then fine.”

Dean nods, glad that they can put an end to this little After School Special.

“Okay.”

Still, he can’t finish his third slice of pizza. He keeps picturing your face when he left you that morning. No matter how you tried to hide it, he still saw the tinge of disappointment in your eyes. It brews something uncomfortable in his stomach, and a sting in his chest.

You’re eating lunch alone in your classroom, finally on your break, when an unfamiliar number flashes across your phone screen. You look down at it in confusion, but with all the caterers and florists and things you’ve helped Eileen with on the wedding, you figure it could be important. You pick up the call and greet whoever’s on the line.

“Hey, sweetheart. How are you?”

You drop your ham and cheese on your keyboard, gaping in surprise.

“Dean?”

“Yeah, it’s me,” he chuckles slightly. “Sorry, I know it’s been a minute.”

You frown, because you’re confused more than anything.

“Yeah, like almost a month,” you reply. You put the call on speaker so you can grab up your sandwich and quickly brush off the crumbs from your keyboard. You struggle to say something cool, clever, sexy even. “I’m okay. Just, um…what’s up?”

Smooth, real smooth. You cover your eyes with your hand.

“Nothin’, I was just thinking of that night,” he says. “I had a good time.”

Your frown deepens, despite the beginning of a blush warming your cheeks. If he’s calling you just for another hookup…

“So I just thought maybe you and I could do something again. Maybe you wanna come over my place this time.”

And there it is. You deflate at his words, shoulders sagging. The "convenient booty call" proposition.

“I could make us some burgers, toss in a couple of beers and a movie night,” he adds.

That part throws you though, you’re not going to lie. What, is this a Netflix and chill situation—with a side of fries?

You consider it. You weigh pros and cons at a frightening speed in your mind, almost like Sherlock Holmes contemplating the layout of a dead body and deducing within moments that his wife committed the murder, despite the man no longer wearing a ring.

You want to let yourself be bold and spontaneous and carefree...but it's just not who you are at your core. You're a planner, a cautious person who looks three ways before crossing the street. Letting Dean take you home that night was certainly one of the most spontaneous, wild things you've done since your friends took you out to a strip club after you aced your final round of exams back in college.

(Sam hadn't been there that night, but he did get an embarrassing drunken text from you at 3:00 a.m., along with a few shame-ridden pictures fueled by questionable substances. Yes, he still had the evidence.)

You just don't know if it's smart to let yourself hookup with Dean again. Mostly because you know your heart has the tendency to get attached, no matter how much you warn it not to.

“You know, Dean, I’m pretty busy with my job right now. I just started here a couple of months ago, and I think I just need to focus on that right now,” you say. Part of it isn’t a lie, even though your soft heart is stinging.

“Ah, okay. Yeah. I get that,” he says. You hear his disappointment too. “But I just need to say, I really am sorry for not calling you sooner.”

Your lips tug at a smile. “It’s okay, Dean. Look, you’re Sam’s brother. I just feel like, maybe it’s better if you and I stay friends.”

“Friends, huh?” Dean says wryly. “I’m sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have three rounds of steamy hot sex with any of my friends.”

Your blush comes swiftly again, burning in your cheeks.

“Be that as it may,” you say, “I just don’t want to do anything that will distract from Sam and Eileen’s wedding.”

“Oh, I’m a distraction, huh?” Dean says flirtatiously. 

You begin to smile in earnest. “I think you know damn well what you are, Dean Winchester.”

His deep chuckle practically resonates through the phone and into your chest, going straight down to your pussy. You clench on nothing just at the sound of his voice, making you cross your legs under your skirt. Dear God…

How are you supposed to be even remotely normal around this man now? 

But for Sam’s sake (and your own), you’ll have to try. 

Two months later, Dean has taken Sam’s dating advice to heart. A week or so after you turned him down, he ran into Lisa Braeden, Eileen’s Maid of Honor, while he was at the grocery store buying beer and Twizzlers. She was a smart, sharp, sexy brunette. A yoga instructor, he soon found out. So he took a chance on asking her out. They’ve been going slow and steady ever since. 

Dean hasn’t heard from you since the rehearsal dinner, but he sees you again at his brother’s wedding. All the bridesmaids are wearing long, royal blue dresses that drape off the shoulders and hug the bust and waist, flaring gently at the skirt. Lisa and Jo wear it beautifully, their hair perfectly smooth and coiled. 

But when you step out into the hall outside the church ballroom to join them, Dean actually pauses in what he’s saying to his brother. He nearly double takes when you enter his line of vision—mostly because he hasn’t seen you in a dress since that night. You were sexy as hell then, a lady in red. 

Today, you’re absolutely stunning. 

After greeting Sam with a warm hug, you turn to him with a nervous kind of smile. “H-Hey, Dean.”

With that, he snaps out of it. Dean smiles, eyes crinkling, and goes over to give you a hug as well.

“Good to see you,” he says, trying not to inhale too much of your nice perfume. It’s even in your hair.

“You too,” you reply. Your smile is a little brighter, more genuine. Though there’s something behind your eyes that he can’t quite place.

What he doesn’t notice is the way Lisa is watching you and her boyfriend, a hint of suspicion on her face.

You do though. You pull away from Dean and assemble into a line with Lisa at the helm. As the Best Man, Dean stands with her, followed by Jo and Brady, another one of Sam’s buddies. You and Benny bring up the rear. Benny’s dad used to work with John, Sam and Dean’s father, on the police force.

According to Sam, John Winchester worked a beat for twenty-six years before his liver finally gave out on him. Dean almost went to the Police Academy to follow in his dad’s footsteps, but Benny, already working his way up to Lieutenant, suggested Dean become a smoke eater instead. The suggestion stuck.

Benny Lafitte is slightly shorter than Dean, but just as broad-shouldered, his auburn beard neatly trimmed. Even though you might’ve thought he was rough around the edges at first, his kind blue eyes spoke the contrary. He offers you his arm like a gentleman.

“Well aren't I lucky, getting the prettiest girl on my arm,” he says, with a charming smile.

You smile, and even begin to blush at the way he subtly takes note of you from head to toe.

“Well, thank you. You’re very handsome yourself. Although, hold on.” You slip your arm out of his for a moment so that you can fix his tie. It’s slightly crooked. You make sure that it lays flat under his collar, smoothing down all the edges and picking off any small dust particles that landed on his collar. Benny watches you with an indulgent smile.

“Am I good?” he asks.

“Very,” you reply.

“I appreciate it, thank you,” he says. You don’t know if he means to sound flirtatious, but his voice is a deep drawl that washes over you pleasantly. You find yourself blushing down to your neck as you slip your arm back around his.

You also don’t notice how Dean glances at you and Benny over his shoulder.

As much as you love Sam and Eileen, it’s difficult for you to keep your mind from spinning into fractals as the ceremony goes on. You can’t help but glance at Dean. He stands there behind Sam dutifully, but you see brotherly pride in Dean’s eyes, in his smile. It makes you smile too. You too love Sam like a brother, and it brings a well of happy tears to your eyes to watch him have his moment with his new wife.

It just also reminds you of what you need to do.

After the ceremony ends and the bridal party files out behind the bride and groom, you excuse yourself from Benny apologetically. You wait until Lisa and Jo go off to take pictures with Sam and Eileen, and you grab Dean’s wrist, pulling him aside.

“I need to talk to you,” you whisper.

Dean gives you a confused look. “They’re gonna need us for the pictures.”

“I know, but this is important,” you say. Your voice trembles with nerves, and so do your hands. Dean notices, frowning in concern. He grasps your arm to try and steady you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Just come with me,” you implore him. You take his hand and lead him into the women’s dressing room attached to the church sanctuary you all just came out of.

Dean raises his brows at the mess you and the rest of the bridesmaids have made of the room—pantyhose and makeup and clothing litter the floor and most available surfaces, while leftover breakfast sandwiches, grapes, salami, and cheddar cheese cubes are splayed out across one of the vanity counters. Dean is tempted to steal a morsel, but he focuses on you first.

You close and lock the door, which makes his brows raise high again. You know he has a girlfriend now, right?

“Uhh, look, I’m not sure what’s going on here, but—”

You heave a sigh. Again, you take his hand and guide him to sit with you at the vanity. The old stools squeak, the overhead lights a bit too bright. This is not where you want to do this, but you can’t hold it in anymore.

“Dean, I’m pregnant,” you confess.

He freezes. His breath stills in his lungs. His eyes slowly widen as the words click in his brain.

“What?” His head tilts, as if he didn’t hear you right.

You squeeze his hand; to ground him or yourself, you’re not sure.

“I’m about two months pregnant. I found out last week.”

Dean swipes his free hand over his mouth while he tries to compute. He squeezes your hand, tighter and tighter. He points to himself.

“It’s…it’s me? It’s mine?”

You give him a weary smile. “You’re the only one I’ve been with in the last few months. It could only be you.”

Oh fuck. The man’s face begins to pale as he descends into shock.

“But we…I used a condom,” he reasons. “All the—all the times!”

You bite your lip. If you weren’t freaking the fuck out yourself, you’d probably be laughing right now. Granted, you’ve had a bit more time to process this than Dean.

“I know, I was there,” you reply, releasing yet another sigh. “One of them probably broke. That’s all I can think of… Honestly, Dean, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I just didn’t want to disrupt the ceremony or cause a scene before the wedding. But now you know.”

Dean falls silent then. He hasn’t let go of your hand, which you think is a decent sign. He’s likely forgotten that you’re still holding it as he stares off into the middle distance for several seconds.

Eventually, he shakes his head and returns his gaze to yours. He looks uncertain, his handsome face the true epitome of holy fucking shit.

You know the feeling.

But he asks the most important question.

“What do you want to do?”

Briefly you close your eyes as you take a breath. You squeeze his hand before you let go of him.

“I’ve thought about this a lot, and…I’m keeping the baby,” you tell him, though you raise placating hands. “I don’t want money, or anything like that. I just wanted you to know that it’s yours. How much you want to be in his or—or her life, that’s up to you.”

Dean takes a beat before he answers, but you don’t have to wait so long holding your breath.

“Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll help you. Don’t worry,” he says.

And just like that, all the time you spent giving yourself pep talks for this, telling yourself that you’ll need to be strong no matter what he says, all of it crumbles into relief. Your lower lip trembles, and your body shudders as you break into tears. You try covering your face to hide your shame, but Dean grasps your shoulders.

“Hey, hey. It’s all right,” he says. He tentatively pulls you into a hug. “It’s gonna be okay.”

You nod into his dress shirt, probably staining him with your running makeup.

“Thank you,” you whisper. “Thank you so much.”

He holds you a bit tighter in response.

You and Dean agree to keep this to yourselves for now, at least until Sam and Eileen get back from their honeymoon. It’s difficult to explain why your eyes are all red and your makeup is smudged, but you promise Sam that you’ll tell him later. You know it’s pointless to lie to him though. As a lawyer, his bullshit meter is far too high.

However, you also know that he’s half guessed it by the time you all make it to the reception. When you and Dean came out of that dressing room to join the bridal party for pictures, you're sure that you looked emotionally wrecked. Dean had looked pale as a sheet, his body coiled and tense, as willing himself to seem normal. Sam had clocked both of you with a raise of his brow, but he didn't say anything then, especially after you gave him a pleading look.

While Eileen greets her family without him for a moment, Sam pulls you aside. He notes your glass of diet coke, in a moderate sea of guests drinking champagne and cocktails.

“Are you okay?” he asks knowingly.

Tears well up in your eyes again. You don’t know if it’s your damn hormones going haywire, or just the way Sam asks you, with the love of a friend in his eyes. He squeezes your shoulder gently, prompting you with your name.

“Yeah, I think I will be,” you say.

"Is it the same reason you're not drinking?" he asks. "You and Dean earlier..."

You hesitantly confirm with a nod. Sam blows out a harsh sigh, raising folded hands to his mouth as he processes. You begin to look around on reflex, trying to see if anyone's watching you and Sam have this conversation in the middle of the reception. To your relief, everyone around you seems occupied with drinks, hours d'oeuvres and conversation.

“What did he say when you told him?” Sam asks. His gaze is firmer. You get the idea that if he doesn’t like what you tell him, then he’s about to go grab his brother by the ear himself.

You grab his wrist and give a placating squeeze. “He said he's going to help me, be there for me.”

“Damn right. So will I,” Sam nods, and glances back at Eileen, his new bride, with a smile. “We both will.”

“I know,” you nod as well. “I’ll be okay, Sam. You don’t have to worry so much. Just enjoy your wedding day. It’s the only one you’re gonna get. Well, you know…hopefully.”

You tease him with a wink.

Sam laughs, cupping your cheek. He kisses your other cheek.

“I love you, you know that right?” he says.

You give him a trembling smile through your tears.

Meanwhile, Dean has a beautiful woman in his arms. He turns Lisa on the dancefloor, trying not to trip on his own dress shoes, all the while knowing that his brain isn’t here in his body. It’s across the ballroom, watching you talk to Sam. Dean can tell that he knows, just in his Big Bird body language. He’d also recognize that accompanying Bitch Face anywhere.

“Dean, what’s wrong,” Lisa asks him, and not for the first time. She’s getting annoyed, he can tell. She finally looks over to where he keeps glancing, and she notices you with a frown. It’s also not the first time she’s caught him staring at you tonight.

“What was that earlier in the dressing room? She didn’t really get food poisoning, did she?” she asks pointedly. “What, did you two used to date or something?”

He gives a wan smile. “Yeah, kinda. We…had a thing once.”

“What kind of thing?”

Dean closes his eyes and tries to keep himself calm. He’s pretty sure if he tells her the truth right now, she’s going to find the nearest cocktail and dump it over his head.

But shit, here it goes.

“Well…”

After a long day at school, you drive over to Dean’s apartment. You’d agreed to meet there and wait for him to get off his shift at Firehouse 83, where he just started as a full-fledged firefighter on probation. When he gets home, he’s supposed to go with you to an important appointment with your OB-GYN. 

You were hoping he’d already be done with work by the time you got to his place, but Lisa's there to open the door for you. Apparently, he’d already given her a key.

Moving kind of fast, but okay, you think. A second later, you could’ve rolled your eyes at yourself. Pot, kettle, me. Got it.

Lisa greets you with a “polite” smile at best, but she does offer you water at least. You really can’t blame her for not liking you though. She found out her boyfriend got another woman pregnant right before he started dating her. Really, she has more balls than you for staying with him. You wouldn't put it past Dean to somehow have smooth-talked her into giving him a chance.

Or she really loves him. The thought sobers you as you lower yourself down to the couch beside her. Both of you sit there in silence for a moment, trying to figure out something to talk about.

“So, you’re what, six months pregnant?” she asks.

You correct her in thinly veiled annoyance. “Three months, actually.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry,” she says. “I don’t know why I thought it was six.”

You have a feeling her awkward chuckle is fake, however. She knew good and damn well that you’re not six months pregnant. In her eyes, you must be the size of a parade float. 

“If you want, I can recommend a holistic diet to help you get your body back after the baby’s born,” Lisa offers. “No pills, no chemicals. Just good clean weight loss.”

You feign interest. Honestly, you’d like her to cram that offer right up her hooch.

“I can even give you a discount if you want to try out yoga,” she says. “It’s low impact, but you burn plenty of calories. I have a beginner’s class, not too strenuous. Even my least flexible clients manage to do the poses.”

Is that why Dean likes you? Because you’re bendy? Bet if I sat on you, you’d pop like a fucking balloon.

You hide all of these thoughts behind a “polite” smile of your own.

“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you reply. It’s non-committal enough, but hopefully it’ll get her off your back.

No such luck.

“You know, maintaining a healthy diet is really important for the baby’s health too,” Lisa adds. “It’s not just about avoided raw fish and dairy products. Oh, and processed food is obviously a no-go. Like, I’m sure you haven’t been hitting Taco Bell and all that stuff, right?”

As a matter of fact, you’ve been eating clean since long before you got pregnant. Not that it’s any business of hers whether you enjoy the occasional quesadilla or not.

Your temper snaps at its leash. You open your mouth to reply, when the front door unlocks and opens to Dean, stepping in through the threshold.

Thank God, you and Lisa both think. She gets up quicker from the couch than you, greeting her boyfriend with a kiss. You avert your gaze while you begin to get up yourself.

Dean reaches out to help you, grasping your arm in support. You shoot him a smile.

“I can still get up by myself,” you snip.

“Yeah, all right. Just in case,” he says with a smile. “Ready to go?”

“Oh, yeah. Let’s rock and roll,” you say, trying to hide your worsening mood. You’re exhausted, and irritated, and probably more than a little hangry. Except now, the idea of food just has you feeling guilty for even being hungry.

“Bye, hun. Hope you have a good appointment,” Lisa says, giving your shoulder a pat. You give her the most genuine smile you can muster as you thank her. It's possibly that she's one of those women who don't realize when they're being cunty, but you find it highly unlikely. She's too smart for that.

You follow Dean out the door and over to his car, big and black and sleek as you remember. You settle into the passenger seat with your arms crossed in silence. Dean switches the cassette to one of his favorite Led Zeppelin albums, though he notices your grumpy face.

“Something wrong?” he asks.

You give him some side-eye, but you’re reluctant to say anything. You just shake your head. As irritated as you are, you don’t want to be the friend who badmouths his girlfriend.

God, are we even friends? You wonder. Or am I just his knocked-up baby momma?

And again, you realize that this whole situation is probably hard for Lisa. You just don’t know if she’s jealous, or if she just…doesn’t like you.

“I’m okay,” you tell Dean.

He raises a skeptical brow. Looks like Sam isn’t the only one with a finely tuned bullshit meter.

“All right, how about this,” Dean says. “Let’s grab some burgers after this, huh? From your favorite spot. Shake Shack, right? Side of fries, frozen yogurt. I think I’ll get chocolate this time… Hmm, I doubt Lisa will want anything. She’s gone on an all-vegan kick or something.”

For one shining moment, you were happy and touched at his consideration. But now your body stills in your seat when you remember Lisa’s words. Tears well up in your eyes with a hot sting, and a sob escapes your throat.

Dean is cut off from thinking about getting extra bacon on his burger. He looks over at you in alarm. “H-Hey, what’s the matter?”

You scoff at him through your tears. “Are you kidding me? I can’t eat burgers anymore, Dean. I was already fucking fat. Now it’s just gonna get ridiculous.”

“What?” Dean’s brows knit together in confusion, along with his deepening frown. It gets worse as he tries to watch the road ahead, while at the same time, watching you continue to crumble.

“And after the birth, I’m just going to be an even fatter slob who can’t take care of her baby,” you sniffle and weep, trying in vain to wipe your eyes and get ahold of yourself.

Dean grits his teeth, his jaw twitching. Fuck it.

He turns the steering wheel sharp enough to startle a gasp out of you.

“Dean!”

He pulls the car over onto the side of the road, ignoring the honking SUV behind him. He shifts into Park and shuts off the radio—a big red flag, in your opinion. He’s upset too, and fucking serious, more so than you’ve ever seen him. You stare back at him with wide eyes.

“I’ve never once heard you say that you’re fat,” he says.

You blink at that, but eventually, you’re able to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth. You wipe the remnants of tears from your cheeks. Your face is already hot from your upset, now tinged with embarrassment.

“You haven’t known me very long,” you say quietly.

It doesn’t help. Dean’s jaw ticks again.

“Well, I’ve never thought it. Not even once,” he says. His jade green eyes are firmly set on yours, and he gestures between you and him with a pointed finger. “The reason you and I are here right now, is because the minute I saw you, I wanted you.”

One corner of his lips kicks upwards. “And that night, you didn’t disappoint.”

Your mouth falls open slightly. You don’t know how to respond, but you do know that a full blush is warming your face and neck. His words have power, and unbidden, they bloom a similar warmth between your legs. You swallow a bit nervously as you bite your bottom lip.

Dean glances down at your mouth when you do. He can remember what your pretty mouth did for him that night. Oh, he remembers all too well. He even had the shade of your lipstick streaked across his skin until he showered up at the firehouse.

He locks that all away when shifts the car back into Drive. If you’re going to make it to this appointment on time, he needs to get going.

And you both have to leave whatever that was right here by the side of the road.

AN: Woo! 😮‍💨 Yep, this is only Part 1, friends. Lisa is a bit different in this. My take was that without Ben in her life, she might be less mature and a bit more catty. As we get into Part 2 I'll leave it up to you to decide why she decides to stay with Dean, and perhaps more importantly, where the reader and Dean can go from here as co-parents. 🤔

If you enjoyed Part 1, please let me know!~

Next Time in Part 2:

“Hey, you okay?” you say, resting a gentle hand on his arm.

Dean shakes his head. “Look, I…I’m sorry for tossing a giant friggin’ monkey wrench into your life. I know this hasn’t been easy for you.”

If possible, your heart softens even more. You slide your hand down to grasp his.

“Dean, this baby wasn’t planned, but he’s not a mistake,” you say. “I don’t regret anything.”

Dean stares back at you incredulously. He can’t believe you could really say that to him. He doesn’t know what to say. He only knows what’s in his mind, and what he feels compelled to do in that moment.

He leans over and kisses you. It’s a firm meeting of his lips to yours, and achingly familiar.

⋆˙⟡ Keep Reading: Part 2

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[jibberjibbsart]

Supernatural “Power Hour” Part 11

Hm that monster isn’t native to Gravity Falls 🤔

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[colmiillo]

"I notice i start getting nauseous in the morning and my period is a week late"

Girl i need to fantasies with a hot man that i don't have a chance on, not with a baby,please kill that thing

[calibrationneeded]

So this is the “pilot episode” for a comic I’d like to keep adding onto just for fun, the basic premise is that it’s a post canon fix it comic about Dean discovering who he is outside of his macho persona while also repairing his relationships and building new ones.

It is a Destiel fic but it’s gonna be a slow burn because Dean has decided he can’t talk about his feelings until all his emotional issues are resolved (spoilers that’s not how things like that work).

I also plan on peppering in some lore explaining how Cas got out of the empty, how they ended up with a house, and who is currently God in universe. I’m not sure when I’ll get to work on another installment but hopefully it won’t be long because this has been an AU rolling around in my head since 2020