#dean on the other hand is heavily hinted to be attracted to sam because of his obsessive possessiveness and the siren episode | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

katymacsupernatural · 5 years ago

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Love is the Only Gold

Dean Winchester x Reader

2000 Words

Written For: @heavenandhellbingo

Squares Filled: Indra

Warnings: A little angst

The paper between your fingers was brittle and yellow with age. The words were hard to follow, written in beautiful penmanship long forgotten. Your brow was furrowed as you tried to understand the old English but it was nearly impossible.

“Find anything?” Sam asked, leaning back in his seat, closing the large book in front of him.

You shrugged. “I don’t know. This book is so hard to read that the answer could be right in front of me and I wouldn’t know.”

Sam chuckled just as Dean came striding into the small hotel room, his arms full of takeout. “How’s research going?”

“How do you always seem to finagle your way out of research?” Sam teased, taking on the paper bags from his brother, pulling out a couple of tacos.

“He does do that, doesn’t he?” You agreed with Sam just as Dean handed you your food. Rolling his eyes, he pressed a kiss to your cheek before he sank down in the empty chair beside you.

“I’m not stupid,” he chuckled. “But I still did research.”

“How?” You and Sam both asked, your mouth full of fast-food Mexican food. You had turned your chair, propping your feet on Dean’s lap, watching as he took a huge bite out of his burrito.

Talking with his mouth full, Dean answered. “At the restaurant, they were talking about the disappearings. How each woman had been at this bar the night before. The Golden Elephant. Who the hell names a bar the Golden Elephant?”

“And?” You prodded Dean on, wanting him to get to the point.

Rolling his eyes, he set his burrito down. “They all talked to the same man. He was tall and medium build with black hair and dark brown eyes.”

“So we’re thinking this normal looking man tore these women to shreds. With his bare hands?”

Sam had finished eating by this time, and he leaned forward. “Just because he’s normal looking doesn’t mean he’s actually normal. Each of the women has scorch marks on their skin. Almost as if they were burned by lightning.”

You slipped your feet from Dean’s lap, sighing in frustration. “So we know that these women were at this weird bar and met a normal looking man who could have then electrocuted them and ripped them to shreds. What type of monster does that anyways?”

“No clue,” Dean shrugged. “But I thought we could go to the bar tonight, see if he shows up. He has a type.” Dean was staring straight at you, and you immediately knew what he meant.

“Me? I fit the bill?”

He nodded, reaching out and grasping your hand. “You know I hate using you as bait. But you fit the description of the other women that have been taken. And Sam and I will be at the bar the whole time. And you’re a badass hunter who can take care of herself.”

You hated when Dean through your words right back in your face. But you knew he was right. Five women were dead, torn to bits and you wanted it stopped. Even if it meant putting yourself in harm's way. “Fine. Do I have to dress a certain way?”

“Nope, you always look good,” Dean assured you, pulling you to your feet. “Got your knife?”

You nodded, tapping the knife holster on your side. You refused to go anywhere without the special knife that Dean had given you for your birthday. It was coated in silver, with an iron handle. Enochian was etched along the blade. “Good,” he answered. “Let’s get this party on the road!”

Within the hour you were perched at the counter of the gaudy bar, sipping on a glass of whiskey. Your eyes hurt at all the gold decorations shining in the lighted lanterns hanging from the ceiling. Gold trim and paint-filled almost every available space. A large golden elephant was perched behind the bar, it’s trunk lifted proudly in the air. The entire place smelled of incense, tickling your nose.

It was not your usual type of bar, and you couldn’t wait until you could get out of there. Until you could go back and crash for the night with Dean’s arm safely around you. Instead, you kept your eye out for the man in question, wondering exactly what he could be.

You didn’t have to wait long before a man sat down beside you. He smelled slightly of jasmine and orange blossom, with a hint of musk. He had thick wavy black hair, his skin smooth, the color of an almond. His dark chocolate eyes looked you over, a hint of something almost other worldly catching you off guard. “Hi,” he spoke, his voice thick with an accent. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“I’m new in town,” you answered, wondering how he could affect you so much so quickly. You could feel your heart rate picking up, your mouth dry as his gaze stared right through you.

“I’m Indra,” he announced. “And you are?”

Your mind worked fast, trying to figure out where you had heard that name before. “Y/N,” you mumbled, your eyes widening when he reached out, taking your hand in his.

“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” he spoke, his voice captivating. “Listen, I know you’re probably not the type of girl, and I’m not normally the type of guy, but do you want to get out of here? Find somewhere a little more...private?”

You could see Sam and Dean watching you from the shadows of the back of the bar. Dean’s face was twisted in jealousy, and you didn’t blame him. This guy was smooth and captivating, and you had to remind yourself this was a job. That Dean was the man for you.

Your knife was a reminder that you could handle yourself, so you shook your head, forcing yourself to smile.

“Perfect!” He gushed, standing up, keeping your hand in his, tugging until you were standing up. The lights flickered, energy crackling from his hand, slightly stinging your hand, and you glance down at it in surprise. “You’re in for such a treat,” he assured you, his eyes flashing blue.

You glanced over your shoulder, to where Dean stood with his hand clenched. Sam was already gone, no doubt stationed outside. “Indra.” You mouthed, hoping that Dean understood you.

Expecting Indra to take you out of the front door, he pulled you down the hallway. “This is my bar,” he exclaimed. “Do you like it?”

“It’s really...gold,” you muttered as you walked by a gaudy golden mirror.

He pushed through the privacy door, into a long hallway. The kitchen was off to the left, cooks and staff bustling to keep up with the crowd. Indra pushed through the door on the right, marked private and you stepped into another world.

Bright, bold colors filled the large space. Deep red and gold curtains covered the walls. Emerald and sapphire rugs were plush, piled with pillows of the same colors. A round gold bed was perched in the middle of the room, the cover a rich brocade.

Indra finally released your hand, going over to the wooden cabinet, pouring two glasses of a deep red wine. Handing you one, he peered at the room with pride. “Isn’t this place majestic?”

“It certainly is,” you agreed, wondering if Sam and Dean would be able to find you know. Feeling completely overwhelmed.

You remembered who Indra was now. He was a deity, a god. One that used the weather as his own weapon. You didn’t remember much more than that, but knowing you were dealing with a God? It had you trembling in your boots.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Indra spoke softly, noticing how pale you had become. He took the glass, setting it back down before pulling you into his arms. “I know this is fast, but you can feel the attraction, can’t you?”

You nodded, even though the feel of his arms around you had your skin crawling with unease. “I’m going to take care of you,” he assured you, his lips ghosting against your neck. Electricity ran from his lips, traveling up and down your side and you shivered. “This will be a night you never forget.”

With his lips against your skin and his hand brushing the bare skin of your hip, you slid your hand down, reaching for your knife. You had no idea if it would work against a deity, but you had to try.

His hand moved around, cupping your butt, pulling you tight enough against him you could feel his excitement through his linen pants. Squeezing your eyes closed, you swung the knife as hard as you could, slamming it into his back.

His grip tightened on you to the point of pain, and you opened your eyes to see his flashing blue. The lights flickered in the room, thunder cracked outside. “How dare you!” He exclaimed. He pushed on you hard enough that you went flying across the room, landing on the bed with a bounce.

His eyes continued to flash blue, electricity sparking from his hands. “You dare try to kill me with that knife?” He screamed, his voice making the walls shake. You could barely hear Dean’s voice through the door as he tried to get through to you.

Indra stalked towards you, lightning shooting from his fingertips, catching the curtains on fire. You struggled to move away from him, trying to get your footing on the plush bed, but he reached down, grasping your ankle.

His hand scorched your skin and you cried out in pain, kicking out and connecting with his stomach. Growling, he flipped you over, straddling your waist. “I was going to make you feel so good before sacrificing you. But now, I just want you to suffer!”

He raised one hand, the electricity still flickering from his skin, pressing it against your shoulder. Screaming in pain, you wanted to blackout, but you knew you couldn’t. It would mean certain death for sure.

Taking both of your hands, you wrapped them around his wrist, pushing with all of your might. Your fight surprised him, and you had the upper hand for just a second. But that’s all you needed. Turning his hand, the electricity he was going to shoot you with went straight into his heart.

His eyes widened in surprise before he slumped over you. Breathing heavily, you pushed against him, and he fell off the bed, his eyes wide open and glassy. Just then the door busted open and Dean came rushing inside, his gun held high in front of him. “Y/N?” He exclaimed, rushing over to you as Sam came in behind.

“I think he’s dead,” you whispered, your shoulder and ankle throbbing with pain. “I killed a God.”

“How?” Sam asked, bending down to make sure Indra was in fact, dead.

“With his own power,” you answered, letting Dean pull you into his embrace. “He was going to burn me with lightning, and I shot it into his heart instead.”

“That’s my girl,” Dean said proudly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Now let’s get out of here and pray to Cas to come to fix you up.”

The embers of the burning curtains hit the rugs, starting the fire all over again, and you knew within seconds the whole place would be up in flames. Dean picked you up in his arms, carrying you out into the hallway. You pulled the fire alarm before the three of you raced down the hallway, exiting through the back into the clear night sky.

“Wow, who would have thought that a God would be interested in me,” you chuckled.

Dean frowned, his mouth moving silently as he prayed for Cas. “Not that I was interested in him, of course.”

“Damn straight,” Dean agreed, setting you carefully down on the backseat of the Impala as Cas showed up. “It’s you and me, sweetheart. No sparkling fingertips or gaudy gold to get in the way.”

“Amen,” you agreed, pulling him down for a kiss.

Dean/Jensen Tags: @acortez82 @acreativelydifferentlove @adoptdontshoppets @a-girl-who-loves-disney @akshi8278 @bebravekeeponfighting @bi-danvers0 @brindz30@cap-just-said-language @colette2537 @deansgirl215 @flamencodiva @hamiltrash1411 @its-not-a-tulpa @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @justanotherwinchester @just-another-winchester @karouwinchester @keikoraventeller @krys198478 @librarygeekery @magssteenkamp @misspygmypie @mlovesstories @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @mrspeacem1nusone @nothinbuttrouble2 @ria132love @ruprecht0420 @sortaathief @superseejay721517 @squirrelnotsam @team-free-will-you-idjiot @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @torn-and-frayed @tricksterdean @wonderfulworldofwinchester @woodworthti666

Forever Tags: @aditimukul @alexwinchester23 @algud @amanda-teaches @andreaaalove @artisticpoet @atc74 @be-amaziing @camelotandastronauts @caswinchester2000 @cpag7 @chelsea072498 @closetspngirl @docharleythegeekqueen @emoryhemsworth @ericaprice2008 @esoltis280 @foxyjwls007 @gh0stgurl @goldenolaf25 @growningupgeek @heyitscam99 @hobby27 @horsegirly99 @imsuperawkward @internationalmusicteacher @iwriteaboutdean @jayankles @jensen-gal @just-another-busyfangirl @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @lifelovelaughangell123 @li-ssu @linki-locks11 @littleblue5mcdork @lowlyapprentice @maui137 @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @mogaruke @monkeymcpoopoo @musiclovinchic93 @nanie5 @percussiongirl2017 @plaid-lover-bay25 @roonyxx @ronja-uebrick @roxyspearing @samanthaharper2018 @samanddeanmyheroes @sandlee44 @shamelesslydean @simonsbluee @sillesworldofwriting @sgarrett49 @spnbaby-67 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @spnwoman @superbadassnatural @thatcrazybookwormgeek @thewinchesterchronicles @vvinch3st3r @wecantgiggleitsafandom @whimsicalrobots @winchester-writes @zombiewerewolfqueen

#heavenandhellbingo #dean winchester x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #katy writes #spn fanfic #dean fanfic #dean x y/n

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lifeisdabubbles-undersalmondean · 4 years ago

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La Pomme ~ Chapter 15

Pairing: Sam x OC (eventual Dean x OC and Dean x Castiel. And I mean eventual.)

Series summary: George is a casual French-Mistake-universe Supernatural fan living in no-COVID 2020, who's life is upended when she's suddenly launched between realities, two years into the boys' past (S13E22). What begins as an insane, immersive fan experience turns into more when Jack goes missing and George offers up her AU information to help track him down. Soon it's discovered that she and Sam may actually have history. But that's impossible, right?

Word Count: 4,900

Warnings: {smut, fluff, angst, show level violence, swearing, mentions of suicide} ***Detailed warnings will be tagged for specific chapters.

A/N: Following the events of my prequel Paradise and second story From My Eyes Off. Reading those first gives context but isn’t necessary to start this one.

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George was jolted out of her unconsciousness by dropping face first down on the pine needle covered ground. Letting out a startled, painful groan she lay still for a moment, trying to pull herself out of her stupor and gather her bearings. The atmosphere was chilly and caused goosebumps on her skin, so she knew she was outside still. From listening, she could tell that there were multiple people in the same area as her; presumably more of her captures. While she could hear the faint sounds of people talking, she couldn't discern what they were saying.

She thought she heard a strained, quiet voice nearby speak to her, "George? Is that you?"

Quickly scanning for injuries, she began at her toes and mentally swept her body for pain. From being tossed on the ground like a ragdoll, her left arm and hip were painfully sore and bruised, her left cheek was sliced open under her eye, and her bottom lip was split from hitting her teeth on impact. She began to slowly pick herself up off the ground, spitting blood out as it pooled unpleasantly in her mouth. Without opening her eyes, she leaned herself up against the tree she'd landed near. Her head was throbbing and her body was sore. She opened her eyes slowly and tried to find something to focus on to prevent passing out.

She heard the faint voice again, "George, are you OK? Can you hear me?"

"I'm getting there," She replied slowly. She'd chosen a picnic table about 15 yards away, across a circular clearing in the woods, to focus on and it was starting to work. When she finally only saw one, stationary table, she began allowing herself to consider her peripheral.

She saw that she was against a tree at the edge of a small circular clearing attached to a trail that led off into the woods in either direction. There were a few picnic tables in the area, an unused fire pit, and nothing else but trees around. At one of the picnic tables she saw a small group of decidedly boring looking people, all dressed head to toe in white, gathered around, talking in hushed tones. She noticed the woman from earlier--Duma--walking quickly away from her, toward the grouping. George still hadn't remembered if she was angel, demon, or other but from watching the show she knew it truly didn't matter; she was most likely in serious danger either way.

It was a few minutes before she remembered the voice coming from next to her and turned her head to find a familiar, smooth, 90s-male-model face staring back at her. Jack was about five feet away, also leaning up against a tree trunk. When she made eye contact, he smiled weakly, a peculiar look on his face.

"Jack!" She grinned, elated that she'd found him, as the pounding in her head eased.

"George. How did you get here?" He asked, curiously. He tried to sit up more, excited to see her, and that's when she noticed he was badly injured. From what she could see, he had a large gash on the right side of his head, his ear was covered in blood from it. His ankle looked swollen and purple, possibly broken, and the whole bottom half of his shirt was soaked from blood pouring out of a stab wound in his gut.

"Jesus Christ, Jack! What happened?!" She forced herself onto her hands and knees with a soft groan of pain and crawled the short distance to him.

"Just the usual angel hospitality," he replied weakly.

"Angels; figures. OK, Jack, you've lost a lot of blood but I need you to stay awake and focus on helping me stop the bleeding. Sam and Dean are on their way--"

"Sam and Dean are with you?" At the mention of their name, he grabbed her arm and held on tight, giving her a desperate look.

"Of course," she assured, suddenly having to swallow back tears as a rush of emotions hit her. Gently removing his hand from her arm and looking him in the eyes, she promised, "They're coming to get you, okay? We just have to try and stop the bleeding 'till they get here, that's all." She quickly yanked her Friends hoodie off, ignoring the chill that consumed her as soon as she did, and pressed it gently but firmly against his stomach wound. He let out a strangled yell and she shushed him softly.

"It's okay, you'll be okay. Dean and Sam are coming." Quickly, I hope, she added in her head.

He did not look good and she wasn't sure what to do other than apply pressure. She looked around the area futilely, knowing there was really nothing out in the middle of the redwoods she could use to help him in this situation. She froze when she noticed the group of angels staring at her intently.

"Oh, great," she muttered when one of them began walking toward her and Jack. "Don't move!" She held him down when he started trying to get up as the man approached.

"Run!" He begged with hushed urgency.

"I'm not leaving you, you nut." She grabbed his limp, cold hand and placed it on the sweater-turned-bandage pressed against his wound. "Focus, Jack. Try to put pressure on this, okay? Hey, focus!" She could tell he was in trouble. Once she got him to hold the sweater, she stood up slowly, facing the man who'd walked over. She prayed she didn't seem as nervous as she definitely was.

"What the fuck did you do to him?" She spat out uncontrollably at the smug look on the angel's face.

"Sorry about that. He struggled a bit and… well, as you humans like to say, accidents happen." The arrogant, coiffed angel stopped six feet from her and smiled. It was a fake, customer service smile that nowhere near reached his eyes, which were wide and frighteningly blank of emotion. He was about 5'11, had heavily gelled, short, black hair and a thin, perfectly shaped mustache, with tanned skin and piercing blue eyes. His stark white business suit was crisp and fashionable. "Would you like me to heal him for you?" He offered with a hint of sarcasm.

"Do not touch him." She took a shaky step toward him and tried to puff herself up a little, taking up space and making sure she was standing as much between him and Jack as she could.

"It seems my colleague was right, you certainly are an interesting… what exactly are you?" He inquired, looking her up and down.

"If you say so. But he may not have much time." He was far too happy about that and she sneered at him. She just needed to stall long enough for Sam and Dean to find them. The place had a familiar feel and with all the picnic tables and the clearly defined path, she had to assume they were still at the Trees of Enigma attraction; it couldn't be long before the brother's were able to track Jack down as they'd started to do before she got kidnapped.

"Oh you angels are real subtle with the judgement. Sorry, I'm not dressed as fancily as you, pretty boy," She crossed her arms.

"It hasn't nothing to do with the way you look, you ignorant ape," his fake initial kindness was fading fast. "I can't sense you. Why not?"

"Uh, maybe because sensing people is really fucking creepy? If any of these other angels were really your friend, they'd tell you that."

"Now you listen to me," the angel seemed a bit irritated now, and began walking briskly toward her. She stumbled several steps back before his large hand wrapped tightly around her throat. As he lifted her barely off the ground. "I'm not here for your entertainment, child. Tell me what you are and why you're here with the Winchesters before I kill you."

Ok, make that a lot irritated. George gasped for air and clawed at his arm, trying to choke out an answer. When he couldn't understand her, he set her down and momentarily loosened his grip.

"Yes?" He asked patiently.

"My… my name-" She coughed and gulped in air. He allowed her to wrench out of his grip and she bent at the waist. Waiting until she could get a slow and steady flow of air, before looking up at him slowly, she said, "My name… is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father, now prepare to die."

The angel huffed like an angry bull before back handing her so hard she fell to the ground, landing across Jack's outstretched legs. When he had no reaction to her body crashing on top of him, her neck snapped up and she saw he'd passed out.

"Jack!" She whispered nervously, trying to pull herself up. "Ah!" The angel grabbed a fistful of her long blonde hair and yanked up hard, preventing her from moving.

"Just so you know!" Everyone turned and looked at the voice that had just shouted at them from the west, 50 yards away. George visibly relaxed when she saw it was coming from Dean Winchester. "Whoever the fuck you are?"

Sam, who was close by near a tree trunk, slowly pointed a bloody finger directly at the angel who'd hit George and promised "You're gonna pay for that." He then slammed his hand down on the angel banishing sigil that was drawn in his blood on the trunk next to him. With a bright blinding blast of energy, the small cluster of angels was gone. George dropped back down, using her hands to catch herself. She, Jack, Sam, and Dean were the only ones left in the clearing.

"You GUYS!" George shouted. "He's hurt bad." Ignoring the white hot throbbing on the right side of her face, she'd crawled up to Jack's torso and pressed the fallen away sweatshirt back against his wound. It began drizzling as Sam and Dean sprinted toward them and came to a skid on their knees on either side of Jack. They both frantically began checking him over.

Sam happened to glance at George's wounds as he was maneuvering around Jack and instinctively reached out towards her in concern. She locked eyes with him and stopped him in his tracks, "Don't even think about it; he could die." She was absolutely right and he yanked his phone out of his pocket, dialing Castiel.

"He's lost a lot of blood, damnit!" Dean was seeing red; those angels were going to die if Jack did.

"He needs medical attention now. The nearest hospital is 20 minutes away and it's going to take us about that long to get to the car if we're lucky." Sam sounded scared but tried to keep it together. "And Castiel's not answering his phone!"

"He's so cold," George whimpered uncontrollably, her tears beginning to fall.

"It's just freezing out here!" Dean shouted in anger, and she could see his breath in the air for emphasis. George winced when she could hear the undeniable fear in his voice as well. If Dean was worried enough not to hide it, things were dire.

"What do we do?!" Sam nearly screamed, redialing Cas pointlessly once again.

George sat back on her heels and tried to think, but she could barely even breathe. Her stomach was twisting into nauseating knots and she felt her heart pounding. A panic attack was coming on, the intensity of which genuinely made her feel like her heart was going to explode. Her vision began to tunnel and she felt ringing in her ears. She closed her eyes so that she didn't fall over from dizziness and forced herself to take the deepest breath she possibly could. She held the breath for just a moment too long before a sharp pain in her chest caused her to release with a hiss.

Suddenly she knew where they should go.

"If you guys can get him to the car, I might know somewhere nearby we can try for help." The second George had said the words, she'd regretted it. They had almost no other choice, though, so she just prayed to whomever that they'd get lucky, just this once. Dean and Sam didn't need to be told twice. Bracing themselves in the now muddy ground, they picked Jack up gently, one brother at either end of him.

They had prepared themselves to begin the long and arduous trek back toward the car, yet when they rounded their first corner they found themselves standing in front of the emergency exit, which just so happened to lead them to the end of the parking lot closest to where they'd parked. It nearly stopped them all in their tracks but they knew Jack had very little time to survive, so they launched themselves out of the gate and across the asphalt about 50 feet to their parked car. Luckily the park closed an hour ago, so there was no one around to see the two men carrying a half dead person and a beat up George following fast behind.

When they reached the car, Sam got in the backseat with Jack carefully. George tore into the passenger's side knees first, in order to face them and help hold pressure on his stomach wound. Dean jumped in the driver's seat and roared the engine on.

"Nice job with the tire," Dean practically shouted in appreciation at her as he peeled out of the parking lot, headed in the direction she ordered.

"Be careful, Dean, it's still a donut!" Sam warned angrily.

They'd just pulled out onto the highway and Dean was gunning it, "How far?"

"Not far at all, slow down! Take the exit up ahead, to the left." She gestured in the general direction.

"Rosewood?"

"Yeah. Then take the second right. Third house, at the end of the court." In two minutes Dean had screeched the Impala to a halt in front of a large home on half an acre in Klamath. George almost cried with relief when she saw the small, stout woman with reddish blonde hair standing out front in her garden watering the plants.

"Aunt Lorna!" She leapt from the car and ran over to her, throwing her arms around the stunned woman before she could stop herself. "My God, it's a miracle!"

"I'm sorry, who are you?" The woman ripped herself away from George and took a few steps back, clutching the hose she'd had in her hand like a weapon. George kicked herself for scaring her and stepped back with her hands up.

"I'm sorry. You don't know me, obviously, but I know you. You're Lorna Iris, right? You're a nurse in Gibbousville? My friends and I need your help, one of them is hurt pretty bad."

"Worse than you?" The woman asked, looking over her bruised and bloodied face suspiciously.

"Much worse. He needs help and I don't think he'll make it to a hospital." By this time, Dean had pulled their medical supplies out of the car and was now helping Sam pull Jack out gently.

"Holy God," Lorna said, seeing the state he was in and taking a step toward him before pausing. She looked again at George. "Who are you?"

"Someone who needs your help. Please?" George begged.

Stacey, the cute library clerk, was standing in front of her, eyes cast downward. When she held her slender hands up in inquiry, George bit her lip, considering it for a moment before eventually nodding slowly. The beautiful bookworm stepped closer and gently placed her cool, silky smooth hands up under George's breasts. After attempting to cup them and failing because of their size, Stacey decided instead to rub her hands in slow circles over the soft, pale globes.

Lorna stared at her for a moment before looking back at Jack's unconscious body and then to Sam and Dean who were both looking at her with pleading eyes. She let out an exasperated breath and then nodded, motioning for them to come inside. They went with her into the house while George grabbed their medical bag and followed close behind.

______

George was inside the small library office, sitting up on the desk, back straight, chest out. Her thumbs were hooked into the fabric of her white cotton bra and black henley shirt, raising them up to her throat.

George groaned a bit; her nipples hardened under Stacey's touch. She hadn't anticipated things going this far when she agreed to flashing, but Stacey was beautiful and charming, putting her at ease quickly. There was something incredibly erotic about the whole thing, so George closed her eyes and let herself enjoy the thrill.

Her eyes flew open again in surprise when she felt a sudden, dramatic drop in temperature as Stacey's hands disappeared. George could see her breath, like a lame dragon, as she gasped in air and goosebumps covered her body. Looking around frantically, she realized she was now kneeling on the ground in some brush at the bottom of a tall, bloody redwood tree. When she lowered her shirt, she noticed on the ground in front of her was Jack. He was deathly pale, his lips were blue, and there was a large pool of blood underneath him.

"Jack?!" She gasped, reaching down to him. His skin was freezing to the touch, causing her to shiver. There was so much blood, but she touched his neck to feel for a pulse anyway. Her eyes filled with tears when she couldn't find one and she sniffled, "Jack!"

George jumped and gasped loudly as Jack's hands suddenly darted up and wrapped tightly around her throat. His eyes flew open and emitted a bright white light. A loud shushing noise filled her ears and the sound of someone shouting behind plate glass was booming in the distance. George opened her mouth to scream but stopped when Jack's face began distorting, melting and swirling grotesquely.

"WherrrRE ARe youuu?" Came a garbled call from the general location of Jack's mouth. Suddenly the fingers on her throat tightened on her windpipe when she heard a beckoning, "Georgia! GEORGIA!"

"Georgia. Georgia!" Her eyes snapped open to see Sam gently shaking her awake.

Thankful to be out of her terrifying dream, George realized she must have accidentally passed out on the couch while the boys were helping Lorna work on Jack. They'd been lucky--once again--that Lorna happened to have a small store of helpful medical supplies in house to put Jack back together and stabilize him. She didn't have any blood bags on hand but she'd been able to provide fluids and meds to help his body relax and heal.

"Your turn," He ordered, then moved over so that Lorna could sit down in front of her.

"That's not necessary. I'm fine," George lied, shaking the fog of her nightmare away quickly. She actually hurt like hell all over, but it was mostly bumps and bruises; nothing some painkillers and time wouldn't heal eventually. The dream was bothering her more than her aches at the moment.

"You need stitches on your cheek and potentially some in your lip," Lorna wasn't one for bullshit and had a strong, authoritative presence. People listened to her because she always spoke like she knew exactly what she was talking about (and 99% of the time, she truly did). Lorna held out a glass and two pills, ordering, "Take two of these, turn your head to the left, and don't argue."

"Good luck with that." Sam teased, quietly. George shot him a dirty look and took the medicine and water glass from her alt-reality aunt's outstretched hand, downing them. She then turned her head to look out her aunt's large bay window into the murky darkness of the night.

"How's Jack?" She asked, straining her eyeballs to look between them as Lorna began examining and cleaning the cut on her cheek.

"He's stable but critical. I honestly didn't know if I could do much without some blood, which is what he really needs, but I got him leveled out at least. It'll probably be rough going for a few hours; the longer he makes it without coding, the better his chances of pulling through." She spoke with a kind, but matter of fact tone that one develops the longer they're a nurse.

"Thank God," George closed her eyes and allowed a few tears of relief to roll down her cheeks. Her alt-aunt kindly, yet nonchalantly wiped them away with a cotton ball and then gently turned her head back to facing forward. George could feel her cleaning the cut on her lip now and she took a deep breath to gather herself.

When she opened her eyes again, she was looking right into Sam's beautiful hazel green ones, which had been watching her with concern. Her cheeks burned red and more tears welled up. She felt she didn't deserve his concern. She'd risked Jack's life by telling that asshole angel not to heal him and having them come here: her aunt Lorna's home. In an alternate reality. There were a thousand different reasons why Lorna shouldn't have still been in the exact same house in this Supernatural reality. They'd gotten so, so lucky and it made George feel incredibly guilty.

Lorna finished cleaning and checking George's bloody lip, and explained, "good news is your lip won't need stitches. Bad news is it's gonna be irritated for a few days while it heals. Be careful when you eat that you don't bite the cut accidently because that would really hurt. Still need to stitch up that cheek." As she set to work giving George three small stitches, she also warned her and Sam that she really couldn't identify internal injuries this way and that they should go to a hospital ASAP to be safe. It was the exact same spiel she'd given Sam and Dean regarding Jack when she finished tending to him, so she knew it was falling on deaf ears but she had to try. She got up and left the room, leaving Sam and George alone for now.

"Sam, I'm so sorry." George put her head in her hands and a few more fat tears escaped.

"What do you have to be sorry for?" He was incredibly confused at her reaction. She'd handled herself insanely well considering the situation and they might not have been able to save Jack without her.

"Jack was dying and I brought you to my aunt's house. My aunt, who is a person in real life and does not exist on Supernatural the television show!" She'd dropped her hands and looked up at him with an ashamed look on her face. Her words stung him, as though she didn't consider him a real person, but he began to understand why she was feeling so guilty.

"Except she does exist here, whether 'here' is a television show or somewhere else; you saw the article about the fire. Your grandparents died after she was born. So, she exists, just not as your aunt." From Sam's perspective, she'd saved Jack's life and without her, who knows what would have happened to him; death or worse if the angels had gotten a hold of him permanently.

George got up and started pacing. "But still as a nurse? With the same married last name? Living in the same house she's had since I was 8?" George shook her head, getting angrier with herself. "What is going on? No fucking way should this have worked and you know it, Sam. What was I thinking? He could have DIED!"

"You weren't thinking," Sam grabbed her hands, squeezing them gently and stopping her anxious motion. "It was a terrifying situation--for us all--and you acted on your instincts. And they turned out to be right." He tugged on her arms just enough to force her to look up at him and he said sincerely, "just like they have been since you got here."

"Damn right." Dean had entered the room, wiping the blood from his hands with a rag. When she turned toward him, he looked her right in the eye. "I just got off the phone with Cas. The whole thing in Montana had been a trap for me and Sam. The demons found the team before Cas got there. Suzie and Garth are in the hospital, but expected to recover. Carol's dead," Dean paused in a moment of respect for a fellow fallen hunter and then stuffed the dirty rag in his pocket and walked closer to her. "You were right about it being a trap. You were right about where to find Jack. And you were right about being able to change a tire." The tears she'd been shakily holding back fell all at once as she let out an emotional laugh and closed her eyes.

They popped open again in surprise as she felt thick, strong arms wrap tightly around her. She, herself, wasn't used to a lot of hugging and she never expected Dean would be very comfortable with it, but the whole thing felt weirdly natural to her. Hugging him back timidly, she drew a familial sense of comfort from him.

"Thank you," He breathed, allowing himself a rare moment of genuine gratitude. He pulled back out of the hug and gave her a playful slug on the shoulder. "So, stop beating yourself up; you saved him, George. And you got your ass kicked doing it. I promise you now, whoever that angel fuck is, he will pay for that." Sam nodded in agreement and George squirmed uncomfortably, not used to people looking out for her like this.

Before she could argue, Lorna came back into the room with a laundry basket full of bloody sheets and rags. "Listen folks, the main house is too small for you all to sleep here. So the three of you might as well set up shop in my converted garage apartment for the time being."

Sam moved over to her and took the basket from her hands, silently offering his assistance. "Thank you. What a gentleman." She gave him a look of careful consideration. She then turned back to address them all, "I usually AirBNB it but it's empty at the moment. There's only one bedroom upstairs but it has two beds and there's a pull out couch downstairs, so it should do nicely. Enough beds not to share but if you do, I just ask that you change and wash the sheets afterwards." The three of them shared a confused, yet amused look at her nonchalant instruction. "If one of you boys wants to move the recliners here into your friend's room, you can have something comfy to sit in while you hover." She pointed to the leather rocking chairs she had in her living room as an offering and then looked at Sam again, "laundry's this way, Hon. Let's go."

Sam followed her from the room with a nod and George and Dean grabbed one of the recliners together, moving it to Jack's room. When George finally turned to look at Jack for the first time, she winced and placed a hand over her mouth. He looked like a fake cadaver you'd see on some true crime show and it startled her. She held her breath until she was sure she could see his chest moving. She gently touched his hand and was thankful to feel warmth there, calming her paranoid mind. Her heart thumped in her chest and she started crying silently again. She was just so relieved he was alive.

"Why don't you go get some sleep and I'll take first watch?" Dean placed a gentle, supportive hand on her shoulder and squeezed.

"No," She said determinedly. She just needed to be around Jack right now to feel assured that everything was OK. And sleep was not anything she was interested in after her earlier dream. "I just had a catnap, I'm good. I'm gonna stay and watch over him for a while." She gave Dean a look that told him it was pointless to argue, so he went off in search of Sam and Lorna to be shown their temporary digs.

#sam winchester fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester fanfic #sam winchester x original character #sam winchester x original female character #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic series #spn fanfiction

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bamby0304 · 6 years ago

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Touched by an Angel

Summary: There’s nothing ‘normal’ about being loved by an angel.

Pairing: Castiel x Reader

A/N: Thank you @dean-winchesters-bacon for looking the fic over!!

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Fluff.

Bamby

Angels don’t feel like humans. They don’t experience things ‘normally’. Castiel is no different, but he is different.

Just like people, angels are individuals. Sure, it takes awhile to break through a millennia of walls intended to cage them in their role as an angel of the Lord, but after you chip away at them, you can find something beautiful.

Castiel, is beautiful. You met him when he was beginning to blossom and become his own self, and you fell in love in an instant. Not with his physique, but with him. The angel. The spirit. The essence of him.

He was curious, careful, and kind. He did his best to understand everything the Winchesters showed him. His intentions were pure, even when his actions were not. After breaking down his walls to reveal the true him, it was honestly surprising to see how human angels could be.

But angels do not feel like humans.

When Castiel caught you watching him for the millionth time, he confronted you. There was nothing malicious in the way he’d asked what you were doing. He’d simply been curious and confused.

Dean had beat you to the punch before you could scramble an excuse together.

“She likes you, Cas. The girl has a crush.”

The mortification you felt was astronomical. You’d honestly wanted the Earth to open right up, and swallow you whole.

Cas being Cas, he had no idea what that meant, and that only amused Dean further. Instead of explaining things out right, Dean then spent months teasing you as he gradually hinted at the meaning. Eventually, Castiel caught on.

You’d expected him to shut you down. You expected a speech on how it was forbidden for angels to fraternise with humans in an romantic or physical way. With the expectations of nothing good looming over your shoulders, you’d dashed out of the room before Dean could embarrass you more, or Castiel could break your heart.

That night, the angel had come to visit you. That night, the world did open up… but it did not swallow you whole.

“I like you, too… I just do not understand it. Your presence makes me happy, I enjoy your company… more than I enjoy Dean’s,” he’d admitted. “But I am not human, Y/N. I do not feel the way you do. I feel the way I do.”

From that night on, Castiel and you grew closer. He visited you more than he visited the brothers. He began to walk closer to you. While away on his own missions, he would check up on you regularly through messages and calls.

Angels don’t feel like humans, but they still feel… and Castiel had fallen in love with you.

…

Sitting in the library, nose buried in a book, you felt a familiar tingle run down your spin before a warmth spread through you. A smile tugged on your lips as you looked up, turning your attention to the curved staircase.

Dean, who was sitting across from you drinking a beer while fiddling with his phone, looked up. His brows furrowed in slight confusion before he heard the bunker door creak open, followed by footsteps descending down the stairs. Turning to the war room, he watched as Castiel walked down the stairs.

Castiel’s eyes were on you as a sweet smile curved the corners of his lips. “Hello, Y/N.”

Getting up, you met him by the steps of the library. He stayed one below you as you reached for his hands, squeezing them in yours.

“How long were you gone this time?” Dean started, leaning back in his chair and lifting his feet up onto the table. “Three weeks? You two must be dying for some alone time.” He grinned.

“I have missed you,” Castiel admitted, gazing at you.

To most people, he would simply look happy, if that. But you knew him. You understood how intense his feelings were, even though they weren’t expressed as such. Angels weren’t physical, they were spiritual beings, which meant they had a hard time showing their feelings.

Dean wolf whistled, before chuckling to himself. “Don’t let me keep you two. Go take care of your girl, Cas.”

His words caused Castiel to frown, suddenly confused and concerned. “Are you unwell?” he asked you, very serious and very worried. “You did not tell me when I called you earlier this morning.”

“I’m fine, Cas,” you assured him.

“But Dean just suggested I take care of you. What else could he mean?”

Dean’s feet dropped onto the ground heavily. “Wait…” Looking over your shoulder, you watched as his eyes darted from you, to Castiel, and then back. “He’s joking right? He’s just playing dumb… right?”

After almost a year of dating Castiel, you’d managed to avoid this conversation. You’d managed to keep the workings of your relationship to yourselves. But the constant close proximity with the Winchesters meant they were bound to pick up on the strangeness of what you and the angel had.

“Dean.” Sighing, you turned to face him, keeping one of Castiel’s hand in your grip. “He’s an angel.”

“And? You’re human. Come on, you know how it works, and where things go. You must’ve shown him the ropes by now.” When you didn’t respond, his jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Hey, Cas.” Sam, of course, chose that moment to jog into the room, moving to take a seat at the table. He looked from you and Castiel, to Dean. “What’s going on?”

“I’m pretty sure I just found out Y/N and Cas haven’t… you know…” Dean lifted his hands in front of himself and slapped them together like a drunk seal.

Sam raised an eyebrow at his brother. “Danced?”

“No!” Dean rolled his eyes at his brother. “How’d you get dancing out of this?” He repeated the clapping.

“What else is that supposed to be?”

“Sex!” Dean declared.

Eyes suddenly wide, Sam’s head spun in your direction. “But… you guys have been together for, what? Ten, eleven months?”

“Eleven months, two weeks, three days, nine hours, and forty-four minutes,” Castiel noted precisely, making you chuckle lightly. “What does that have to do with me taking care of Y/N? And why are you talking about sex?”

“Because you’ve been with Y/N for eleven months, two weeks, three days, nine hours, and forty-four minutes, and you haven’t done it yet. That’s just not normal,” Dean explained.

“Castiel isn’t normal,” you countered. “He’s an angel. This isn’t even his body. He doesn’t have a body. He doesn’t have physical needs.”

“But you do,” Sam started. “You’re human. You have needs, hungers. It’s basic instinct.”

“Not for everyone. I don’t know if you’re aware of this, but not everything is about sex. Just because I love Castiel, doesn’t mean I have to want to rip his clothes off. Yes, I am attracted to him, but it is about so much more than his body.”

“So you’re telling us that you don’t need sex?” Dean was clearly skeptical.

You shrugged. “I can get myself off all on my own. I don’t need someone else to do it for me.”

“And you don’t feel anything physical towards Y/N?” Sam asked. The tone of his voice made it clear he was now trying to understand, rather than poke the subject.

Castiel looked down at you, giving your hand a squeeze as he searched himself for this feeling the brothers seemed to think was so important. “I feel deeply for her… what more is there to feel?”

His answered made your heart swell.

“Castiel isn’t human, and I had to learn what it meant to be with someone who isn’t like me. It’s different. We’ve been together for eleven months, two weeks, three days, nine hours, and however many minutes, you don’t think I didn’t question the fact we hadn’t had sex? You didn’t think I thought it was because he just didn’t want it with me?” Castiel stepped up behind you, taking your hand as you went on, “I don’t feel the need to ask him to give me something that he’s not into. I don’t need him for that. I’m a hunter, I’ve learned how to please myself perfectly. But I still want to be with him. I’m not gonna give up what we have because of sex. How shallow would I be if I did something like that?”

Staring at the screen for a moment longer, Dean then pulled back to look up at you. “So… you two are in a relationship, and love each other, without getting naked?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re okay with that?”

Leaning back into Castiel, you smiled and nodded. “Yes.” You looked up at your blue eyed angel. “Very.”

“Okay.” Dean nodded sharply, leaning back in his chair again.

“Okay?”

He shrugged at you. “I’m not gonna pretend I understand it, but I’m not gonna judge you guys. You’re both happy, you’re both my friends, you’re both comfortable with whatever the hell you’ve got going on. So, yeah, okay.”

Your smile grew as you looked from Sam and Dean, seeing the acceptance in their eyes. Considering they were the closest thing to family that you had, it meant a lot to know they weren’t going to judge what you and Castiel had.

“Okay then.” Tugging on Castiel’s hand, you began to lead him out of the library. “We’ll see you guys, later.”

“Where are you going?” Dean called.

“To my room,” you answered. “For alone time.”

“But you just said-” Before Dean could finish, you and Castiel had already disappeared down into the hallway that led to your room.

Once in your room, you closed your door and turned to the angel, smiling brightly. “I really missed you.”

Stepping closer, he raised his hand to caress your cheek. “I missed you.”

The brush of his lips against yours was light, but warm.

It had been weird for Castiel, at first. He really didn’t feel any need for anything physical, but just like the scenario you’d explained earlier, he got joy out of making you feel nice.

Sex really wasn’t something you thought to explore, but there were other experiences, other things, you and Cas enjoyed.

“Can I touch you, now?” he asked, barely pulling away from you.

Leaning in closer to him, you nodded. “Yes.”

It was both cool, and warm. You shuddered at the feel of his grace gliding along your skin delicately. It was like invisible tendrils were stroking you tenderly, carefully, lovingly. It made you feel light, like you were floating in the ocean, drifting off peacefully.

There was nothing sexual about the experience. It went further than that.

Castiel had once explained that touching you with his grace was the only way he could feel you completely. The only way he felt connected to you without the boundaries of his vessel.

“I love you,” he murmured against your lips as the flutter of his grace continued to surround you.

Angels don’t feel like humans, but they still feel.

Bamby

#castiel fanfiction #castiel fic #castiel x reader #castiel x you #castiel x y/n #touched by an angel

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bre95611 · 6 years ago

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Dean’s Biggest Fears

So while writing part 2 of my meta series about Anna, Cas, and Dean in season 4, I wrote a meta within my meta. I was rewatching “Yellow Fever” for the series and realized there’s just way too much content to try and put in one small section. So I cut a lot of it. And then the amazing @theirprofoundbond read through what I had and suggested that I just bite the bullet and make a mini-meta about just what all I dug into about “Yellow Fever”. So now, here we are!

There is another amazing meta the @drsilverfish wrote about the queer reading of this episode and I highly recommend you all check it out. You can find it here.

“Yellow Fever” is a treasure trove of subtext, showing everything that Dean is afraid of. Textually, it’s all fairly common fears, albeit some a bit more exaggerated than others. I believe it is important to look in to why the fears that manifested, did. The Sheriff, shown as a germaphobe before he develops symptoms of ghost sickness, is later shown using steel wool to try and clean his arms, showing us that the ghost sickness feeds on fears that are already there! Because of this, “Yellow Fever” gives us wonderful insight into the inner workings of the most emotionally constipated man ever. We can use this episode to find out what Dean is truly afraid of.

Chronologically the fears get worse, so we can see subtextually what Dean’s worst fear is, as the sickness progresses.

The episode opens on Dean running from the cutest little dog ever. We know, looking back on the episode as a whole, that this happen when Dean’s time is pretty close to up, maxing out the ridiculous factor of the manifestations of his fears. The further in the sickness he gets, the less mundane they seem. We also know that he was hallucinating then, perceiving that cute dog as a Hellhound, a point that is shown through the mirroring of the scene in season 3 when he is being chased through the woods and us hearing the snarling of a Hellhound. SO, the very first manifestation the audience sees of Dean’s fears is something that has to do with Hell. The biggest fear Dean currently has is Hell. What happened when he was there. What HE DID while he was there. It is shown time and time again throughout this episode.

Backing up to when Dean is first infected.

The first fear we see chronologically is the teenagers! Going off the inference that the sickness triggers your worst fears the closer to death you are, we can take this as a manifestation of Dean's least pressing overarching fear. So what do the teenagers mean?

Dean wants to walk on the opposite side of the street because of the teenagers. This man that has been to Hell and back, kills the things that go bump in the night, is scared of the youths. (Any New Girl fans?) This strikes me as a representation of his lost childhood. Dean never got a chance to be a teenage burnout, at least, not in the same way as a standard teenager. Yes, he dropped out, but not because he was partying. Because his DAD. Because of the lifestyle they had to lead in their line of work. So he is afraid of not having had a normal childhood, afraid of his dad’s influence on his life during his formative years.

Next is the snake!

I’m not going to go in to much detail on this one as its heavily mentioned in the above meta. (Seriously, go read it.) But just so we’re all on the same page, it’s the D. Dean is afraid of the D. Afraid to acknowledge his attraction to men. This establishes Dean's closeted sexuality as the most pressing fear thus far.

Dean driving like a grandma is hilarious. When Sam mentions he is going the speed limit. And then he passes the motel they are staying at because he isn’t going to make a left hand turn into oncoming traffic. “I’m not suicidal!” I think what we can take from this is Baby is his HOME. And Dean is afraid of doing something to damage that home. This ties into the teenagers bit as well, in regards to his childhood. That car has been more of a home to him than any other building throughout his life. And that love for Baby was definitely established during those formative years, the initials, toy soldier, legos in the heat vents, all things that happened when his DAD was driving (do we sense a theme yet, kids? It's all John's fault). Recently having lost that home, when he went to Hell, he feels that fear a little stronger, knowing how much it hurts to lose Baby, and not wanting to experience that again.

The scene where Dean states he didn’t go to their room because of it being on the fourth floor is lovely for giving us the gift of the “Eye of the Tiger” blooper, but other than that, it doesn’t serve much else of a purpose, besides reinforcing the fear of heights Dean has, something the audience is already aware of due to the fear of flying. However, I do think it’s humbling almost that this larger than life, macho dude is scared shitless of heights, such a common fear. I believe it also serves the purpose of believability for the GA, presenting another common, meaningless fear amidst the subtext.

Next we see where Dean’s hallucinations start.

This screams fragile masculinity. The fear is essentially that he isn’t allowed to feel fear, or any emotions for that matter. This is another fear that has a link back to his childhood, especially his dad’s role in that upbringing. John raised him as a soldier, masculine to a fault. No “softer” emotions are allowed, real men don’t cry. So the words in that book are taunting him and his conditioned inability to show his softer side and experience a full spectrum of emotions and reactions. John raised a man, not a baby. This manifestation also doubles as showing us the overlap in Dean's closeted sexuality and his militaristic upbringing. It makes a connection in the viewership's minds between the way Dean was raised and the reason he is literally in Narnia. I think it's moments like these that have created the "John Winchester's A+ Parenting" tag on AO3.

The creepy lumber yard is just that, creepy. I really can’t think of ANY other way this could be read, but by god did I try. The gun though! Another one that gives me a fragile masculinity feel. Considering this episode is fairly logical in it's order of the fears, that view is on track. This is a portrayal of his fear of being pigeon-holed into his father’s alpha male plan for his life. Guns have a very phallic feel to them as well, so something that as well, a continuation of that childhood/sexuality overlap. Afraid to act on his bisexuality and pursue men.

The CAT!

OMG one of my favorite scenes in the show cause god bless that prepubescent scream Jensen manages to pull off. But I think this is another one that hints subtextually at bisexual Dean. Cats are typically treated as a more feminine pet, so Dean is afraid to embrace his more feminine qualities, embracing his emotions, chick flicks, etc. More literally though, a euphemism for vagina is pussy. So maybe this is a manifestation of his fear of only ever being with women and not being able to experience things for the first time (Coughcoughseason10coughcough).

Next we have him freaking out about the badges. The fake FBI badges. Flustered Dean is just a cutie. Fear of getting caught being someone he’s not though? Fear of not being himself??? FEAR OF STAYING IN THE CLOSET.

Yellow Eyed Sam was creepy and made me very uncomfortable. But here is our first manifestation of his fear of Hell. AND his fear of losing Sam to Ruby. It ties in directly to his confusion over what to do in regards to Sam and everything that happened with Ruby during his time in Hell. Sam is telling Dean how he’s going to go back to Hell. Which we have established is WAY up there in Dean’s list of fears.

After that, we have Dean hallucinating Hellhounds coming for him followed by the Sheriff showing up and having black eyes. Guys. Dean hated Hell. He REALLY doesn’t want to go back, I can’t stress this enough.

Final thing we get is Lillith. Now drsilverfish’s meta has a really great queer reading of this scene. I absolutely love it. But another way that scene could be read is DEAN IS SCARED OF GOING TO HELL AGAIN. Like seriously guys, it’s at the forefront of his mind constantly. He is terrified of HIMSELF and what he did there. When Dean asks why him, Lillith says Dean knows why and that he should listen to his heart. Queer reading, Dean likes dudes. Non-queer reading though, he liked torturing souls in Hell, he was good at it. And that is something he doesn't know how to deal with. He’s afraid to be that guy again (which makes what Cas asks him to do in 4x16 even more fucked up, but that's for another time) and he’s confused as to how to move forward with that sort of knowledge about himself.

Summary of Yellow Fever, Cause I know I just threw a lot at you:

Dean’s fears are 3 pretty neat and tidy categories.

From least to most on a fear level:

1. Childhood/Daddy Issues

Dean fears what the loss of his formative years mean for him now as a grown man. He fears how the lost childhood, and what was basically the norm for him and his family due to his dad’s influence, has affected his development into an adult. This is the least pressing fear, as it is something Dean has been dealing with basically since he was a kid. I feel a lot of the initial introspection he might have had would have come into play back when the show canonically starts, with Dean having to face Sam, the biggest reason Dean didn’t really have a childhood.

2. Dean’s Closeted Bisexuality

There is a lot of bleed from Daddy Issues into this category, because of the influence John obviously had on Dean’s view of masculinity. The only reason this doesn’t rank number one in this episode is because its something Dean has been dealing with for a lot longer, and thus had time to adjust.

3. Hell

Dean is terrified of Hell. He’s afraid of what he did, who he is, who he became, and more than ANYTHING, he’s afraid to go back. This one gets top rank due to how fresh in Dean’s mind it is. At this point in the timeline of the show, Dean’s been topside for months at most, if not only weeks. We know he has been struggling to sleep and up until now hasn’t talked about it at all. The end of this episode is the first time we find out that Dean tortured souls in Hell, too. It puts repeat viewers in a cool situation where we see all these things Dean does in early season 4, desperately trying to save everyone he can, to make amends for what he did under Alastair’s tutelage. And it allows us to see early signs like the Lillith scene that depict Dean’s fear that all of this is happening to him because he was a bully in Hell, because he enjoyed hurting people. The layers of this show. Geez.

So hopefully here soon I will be able to get it together about get part 2 of the series finished soon. If you would like to read part 1 you can check it out right here, and I’ll update this one with links as I finish more of the series. Once again, thanks to @agusvedder for the gifs! I appreciate you!

Thanks everyone for reading! Let me know what you think!

#spn #supernatural #supernatural meta #spn meta #spn 4x06 #spn yellow fever #Dean Winchester #my meta

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coffee-obsessed-writer · 6 years ago

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Just a Little Patience

Dean Winchester x Reader

A/N: This was written for @cole-winchester ‘s Writing Prompt challenge (congrats again babe!!). My prompt was: “Falling in love with you wasn’t a part of my life plan, but I don’t regret that I did.” I also used the song, Patience by Guns ‘n Roses as inspiration and some lyrics are used within the fic.

Summary: Dean showed up at the bar Y/N worked in one night with his brother, and from there, she and Dean became quick friends who had a growing attraction. However, her life was complicated by a wedding ring and absent husband. When he finally returns, Y/N begs Dean to leave and never come back. But what happens when fate seems to intervene and gives them both signs that they made the wrong choice?

Warnings: Married!Reader, slight hints of verbal abuse, language, some angst

Words: 6.7K

SPN Tags: @sorenmarie87 // @soythedemonqueen // @kazosa // @lefthologramdeer // @grace-for-sale // @rockyhorrorpictureshowstyle // @geeksareunique // @moonchild-shoshanna // @tiquismiquis // @mrsbarnes-rogers // @yorkeylover // @fictionalabyss // @gettinjoyful // @teller258316 // @spnhollis // @sweet-things-4-life // @hobby27 // @sweetlythoughtfulbird // @theoriginalvicki // @dreamchester67 // @xxwarhawk // @babykalika2001 // @negans-wife // @superwhovianfangirl81 // @toobusynerdfighting // @vickyfarley // @missihart23 // @letsby // @hyphymanatee // @ravenangel33 // @thewinchesterchronicles // @wayward-gypsy // @closetspngirl // @fatestemptress // @rebelminxy // @22sarah08 // @witch-of-letters // @cole-winchester // @rainflowermoon // @adoptdontshoppets

SPN Tag list is open! Let me know if you want to be added or removed!

*Gifs not mine, credit to owners.

The whiskey burned as it tore down his throat that was already raw from the screaming match, he had with Sam earlier. But Dean didn’t care. He slammed the glass to the bar and motioned for another. The bartender gave him an uncertain look, but Dean’s expression demanded more.

“Just leave the damn bottle,” he growled and didn’t give the man a second glance as he made a hasty exit to the other end of the bar.

Dean poured his own shot from the bottle and tossed it back, filling the glass again before he could even finish swallowing the last one. Getting shit faced drunk was high on his priority list, and he couldn’t care less what the bartender, or other patrons, or even his little brother thought about it. For once, this bout of drunkenness wasn’t caused by a hunt, the fight with Sam or even the death of someone close to him. This time, it was all because of a woman.

She had been the frequent cause for so many of his internal debates of right versus wrong in the last few months. Y/N wasn’t anything he expected yet turned out to be exactly what he had been looking for without even realizing it. He’d gone for so many years happily meeting women and spending a night, two tops, with them. Then, Y/N came along and threw all that on its head.

For a girl he never even kissed, Dean felt like she ruined him for anyone else. He hated her for it at first, because when it was time to walk away, he couldn’t until she screamed at him that he had too. She was messy, had far too much baggage and “not their kind of problem” problems. She was nothing Dean needed to get involved with. Yet, there he was; neck deep and hopelessly addicted to someone he had seen, spoken too or touched, in months.

Three shots later, and Dean was starting to feel no pain and he slipped off the stool and started singing along badly with The Allman Brothers that were playing on the jukebox. He left the bottle behind and stumbled around the nearly empty honkytonk, scanning the faces of those still there, and realized it wasn’t at all where he wanted to be.

Not this bar, not in this part of town. This was her bar. How did he allow himself to end up there? Dean ran a hand over his mouth and down the stubble on his chin. His eyes were tired, and he wanted another shot. He squeezed them shut for a moment, and her face immediately floated into his mind’s eye.

That image combined with the whiskey brought a lump into his throat as he leaned against one of the support beams. Dean pushed off, headed back towards the bar and blindly groped for a stool. He tried to shove it all back down, but that never really worked, not where she was concerned.

As the last notes of Ramblin’ Man died away, the jukebox played a cruel joke on the world’s most dangerous hunter, as the soft, melodic notes of Patience by Guns ‘n Roses started to play. He listened as best he could, feeling each line of the song and realizing that it was a sign. In his drunken state, he considered for a moment that he had played it and forgot. It was their song, after all.

He thought back to the night after the concert, he found her at the bar and wanted to talk about what had happened. She avoided him for most of the night until he finally cornered her. But before he could even begin, she started to cry. Her face that night was a mess, mascara-streaked tears had painted her cheeks, while her wet eyes implored for him to… Go? Stay? He didn’t remember right then, but they were silently pleading with him to somehow save her. He turned and left, but it crushed him to do so.

Now, here he found himself in her bar, a place he swore he’d never end up in again. Especially not after she told him to leave. He was drinking again, heavily. Not because he needed too, but because he missed her so damn much, and hadn’t seen her in more than six months. He just wanted one night where he didn’t feel anything at all.

So why did his highway hypnosis bring him there when he set out in the opposite direction? How did he end up a bottle of Jack deep before he even realized it? Sure, some time had passed, but not so much that she could be erased from his memory. Nothing could do that, and he tried. He had promised himself, and Sam, that Y/N was in his past, he wouldn’t go back and stir it up all again. That was what he fought with Sam about, and now he was here. Dean ignored the little voice that told him he needed to let go and took another shot.

Now that song was playing, the one that told him he was right where he should be, despite not really setting out to be there. Or did he?

The room was hot, and you felt a sticky layer of sweat coat your skin the minute you fell onto the stripped-down bed. Beside you, your husband snored relentlessly in the nearly pitch-black room. There would be zero chance you’d sleep, especially with him going on the way he was. Though, you were still glad he’d finally fallen asleep. He’d been worse than usual, not so much with the drinking, but with his overall behavior and hostility. So, when he finally closed his eyes for the night, relief washed over you.

When work, or the lack thereof, got worse for him, you would suffer for it. Martin had never laid a hand on you, but there were a few times that he had approached you in a manner that made you flinch and feel a ripple of unease settle into your gut. That day had been bad, as had most of the days that came before it. It had gotten so bad, however, that you had to get someone to come in and cover your shift at the bar. That meant no tips, which meant less money, which just caused another argument.

You rolled onto your side and tried to get comfortable as the mass of flesh and bone beside you took in another loud inhale of air up through his nostrils. This time it made him cough, which shook the entire bed frame. A flash of anger made you sit up and swing your legs to the floor. You bit the inside of your lip, forcing yourself to use all your willpower just to fight the urge not scream at him to shut up. The anger quickly wanted to turn into tears because it just brought up everything again; all the issues you’d been having with him ever since…

You breathed through the emotion, trying to find a calm place so you could think without breaking down. Mostly, you were afraid to wake Martin. Carefully, you got back out of bed and quietly rifled through your dresser until you found a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. Being as dark as it was, you didn’t realize what you had put on until you were sitting in the car and seeing its reflecting in the rearview mirror.

When you caught sight of the shirt itself, the big GnR logo across your chest, this feeling of nostalgia clamped down on your heart. For the first time in months, you allowed yourself to speak his name out loud.

“Dean…”

You allowed yourself a moment or two, just to linger in everything that name stirred inside you. But, only a moment.

Still afraid Martin would wake and find you in the driveway, you turned the ignition and pulled out, not hitting your headlights on until you were far down the road from home. The further you drove from home, the freer you started to feel. Almost as free as you had felt with Dean. He was firmly on your mind now, and you didn’t care. You had spent the better part of the last six months doing everything within your power to forget him and even pretend he never existed.

When you met him, Martin had been gone working for weeks at a time. You took extra shifts at the bar, and even the nights where you weren’t working, you were there. Dean and his brother had come in one night and dominated the pool table for most of the evening which annoyed you to no end because you had to listen to the regulars complain. The next night, they came back, and you just happened to be off shift. When they went for the table, you stopped them and challenged them to a game. Winner takes the table, loser must buy the next round. Dean won, and you gladly bought him a round of drinks, then another, then another.

It didn’t take more than ten minutes for you to become hopelessly charmed by the stranger with the green eyes wearing the blue Henley. For the next couple nights, Sam and Dean Winchester showed up religiously at around nine. They would drink, shoot pool and close the bar with Dean in the corner seat just chatting you up about movies, tv shows, and music.

He never tried to make a move on you once he noticed the wedding ring on your finger, but it also never stopped him from making you laugh and being sweet as hell every night he came in. It didn’t help that Dean was mysterious, and endlessly interesting. He had a way of teasing you that both made you blush and infuriated you. He wasn’t threatening, but you could see how he could be intimidating, or even scary, if provoked. Everything about him was just what you needed… he was everything Martin wasn’t.

At the end of each night, they would leave, and you would go home to an empty house and stare at the ring on your finger. You knew Martin was gone for a purpose, the work was hard to find, and he had to take it where he could. It wasn’t the distance or the loneliness that bothered you, it was him. You’d been falling out of love for a while, and meeting Dean was the realization of that. Still, you didn’t know Dean completely, and you were a married woman, so you tried to put as much distance between you as possible. Somehow, Dean always found his way through it and straight back to you.

You allowed yourself to continue down memory lane as you navigated your car down the blackened roads that lead to nowhere in particular. There was no destination in mind, just the need to drive and listen to loud music. Flipping on the radio, you hit ‘scan’ so the tuner would find something that actually came in clear. The mountains didn’t always allow for the best signal, but the tinny sound of Zeppelin’s Whole Lotta Love seeped through the intermittent static.

Your fingers tapped along on top of the steering wheel, as more winding roads brought you down into the valley. When you approached the next stop sign, you realized you had no idea where you were. There was no one behind you, and you didn’t know how to decide which way to go. On the radio, Zep faded away and a soft whistle faded in. You swallowed thickly and recognized the song immediately. Your right hand touched against the logo on your shirt before your fingers curled around the material and clenched at it desperately.

A pair of headlights eventually pulled to a stop behind you and beeped the horn, giving you a nudge to decide which direction to go. Without thinking, you turned right and fell back into your memories.

It was another night at the bar. You were working and chatting with Dean, when the small radio playing next to you let the listeners know they had a chance to win tickets to see Guns ‘n Roses final tour, live. Dean’s face lit up and he whipped out his cell phone. He grabbed the number and dialed frantically as his tongue darted out nervously over his bottom lip; making him look like a giddy child.

“I got this… I so got this—“ he mumbled and suddenly inhaled sharply when the phone stopped ringing and he heard the voice on the line.

You watched him as he got more and more excited upon realizing he had been the winner of the tickets. The pure joy that was etched across his face was infectious. When he hung up, with the confirmation he could pick up the tickets at Will Call, he came around the back of the bar, and swept you up into a big bear hug, lifting your feet off the ground and swinging you back and forth.

He must have felt like he crossed the line because he put you down quickly and bashfully went back to his stool. Neither of you spoke about it, but for the moment his arms had been around you, you felt intoxicated by his proximity. When he put you down and moved away, you had a sudden urge to pull him back and make him hug you again.

“Sam’s gonna hate this,” he chuckled nervously, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “He will not enjoy this at all.”

“Not his cup of tea?”

Dean snorted a laugh and wiped at the drop of beer left on his lip. “Not even a little.”

You started drying glasses, so you would have something to do other than be affected by his touch. “Well he’s just gonna have to suck it up, isn’t he? No way you can waste that other ticket.”

“Oh, no worry there darlin’,” Dean winked and sipped at his beer. “Because I think you should go with me instead. Wouldn’t kill me to have a night away from that gasbag over there.” He motioned over his shoulder towards Sam, who was playing pool and chatting up one the female customers.

You shrugged and tried to play off your simultaneous emotions of excitement and disappointment. “I can’t go with you, I have to work.”

Dean wrinkled his face and rolled his eyes. “Bullshit. Here, watch this… Hey, uh, Mario, right?” he called to the other bartender and waved him over.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you asked nervously. “Leave Mario alone.”

He ignored you. “Hey, Mario… you working tomorrow?”

Mario shrugged and shook his head. “No, why?”

“You wanna work so this one can go with me to a concert?”

He considered it for a moment and shrugged again. “Why not, could definitely use the cash. I’ll work your shift Y/N.”

Dean’s expression shrugged right along with his “I told you so” shoulders and hand gesture.

“Dean, I can’t—”

“Because of that,” he asked quietly and looked down at your ring.

“Well, yeah.”

“We’re friends going to a concert. Totally platonic, promise.”

He picked you up the next day at six, and the moment you slid into the front seat of his ’67 Impala, you thought you may just be a little in love with him already. Dean drove fast and played his music loud. The rush of adrenaline and excitement that coursed through you felt intoxicating. HE was intoxicating. Dean directed you to the cooler in the back seat, and when you opened it up you couldn’t help but smile. Inside was two six packs of beer and to subs wrapped up from your favorite sandwich shop.

When you arrived at the venue, the parking lot was full of tailgaters --people drinking heavily and pockets of different Guns ‘n Roses songs blared from every direction. The weather looked threatening, so you and Dean sat in the front seat of the Impala, shared the beer and food, and talked until it was showtime.

It was raining by the time you made it to Will Call, and at a near downpour by the time the band took the stage. Neither of you cared. For the next few hours, you drank, sang and danced in the rain. It finally stopped and gave way to a starry filled sky just in time for Axel Rose to transition into the familiar whistle of Patience.

As he sang it, Dean’s hand found his way into yours. When you looked up at him, his eyes were still straight ahead, watching the concert and mouthing the words along with the song. He must have felt you staring at him because when he turned to you, was when you were struck by the realization you had growing feelings for him. STRONG feelings

All the people around you seemed to fade, and it was just you and Dean left standing on that lawn. The song was playing solely for the two of you, but even that felt far away. Your heart was pounding out of your chest, as his hand gripped yours tighter. There was so much electricity in that moment, so much heat between you, it was as if there were invisible forces pushing you towards each other, despite knowing it was wrong.

Dean wanted to say or do something, it was written all over his face. You wanted him to say it, too, but you knew it would lead to something that could only end badly.

“Don’t,” you whispered, which he somehow heard over the crowd and music. “Please, Dean…” You looked away from him, casting your eyes to the ground.

His finger lifted your chin, forcing you to look at him again. He still held your hand, refusing to let it go. As the lyrics came through the speakers, he smiled and used his grip on you to pull you into his arms as he sang along, just loud enough for you to hear him.

“I sit here on the stairs 'Cause I'd rather be alone If I can't have you right now, I'll wait dear, hmmm mmmm….

He hummed along for a few more bars before picking up the words again.

Said woman take it slow and things will be just fine You and I'll just use a little patience Said sugar take the time 'cause the lights are shining bright You and I've got what it takes to make it…”

You stayed that way through the rest of the song, only releasing each other to applaud along with the rest of the crowd at the end. The show was over shortly after that, as you moved along with the herd of concert goers, Dean jumped out of line to buy one of the last shirts that was left. “Here, you’re soaked through. This way you won’t freeze,” he winked, and wrapped an arm around your shoulders, guiding you through the mass exodus towards the parking lot.

The Impala rolled up to the front door of your house and that’s when you knew it was all over. Martin’s truck was parked in the driveway, and Dean seemed to realize exactly what that had meant, too. There were no lights on inside, which meant he was most likely sleeping, but a bolt of fear still ran through your heart.

“I—I better go, the old man is home,” you said, trying to sound cheerful, but neither of you believed it.

Dean was quiet, staring straight ahead and clearly trying not to say more than was necessary. Eventually, he looked your way and forced a smile on his face.

“Yeah, I see that.”

“Thanks for the concert, and the shirt,” you said and reached for the door handle. Before you could, he reached out and grabbed your wrist gently to stop you.

“Y/N…”

You froze and when you turned back to him, there was a dreamy, wistful light in his eyes which made your entire body weak for him.

“I, uh, I don’t want you to—”

“I don’t want to go either,” you said quietly, cutting him off but unable to look him in the eye. His fingers interlaced with yours, and that invisible force was there again, just pushing you closer.

If not for the light that flipped on inside, you would have kissed him them. But then the front door opened. You forced his hand from yours and jumped out of the car before you lost your nerve to and without saying goodbye.

You didn’t realize you had pulled over to the side of the road, until a car buzzed by you far too quickly, rocking yours from the force with which it passed. The song was still playing but nearing its end and you suddenly wished you could start it over and relive that night of the concert. When that light came on, you should have kissed him, then told him to keep driving and never stop.

Somehow, in the span of a week and very little physical contact, you’d fallen head over heels for a man you barely knew who had stellar taste in everything and whose intense gaze made you feel like the only woman on Earth.

When the guitar finally faded out, and a slew of commercials took its place, you put the car back in drive and merged back onto the road. Doing your best to leave memories of Dean Winchester behind.

The pain that tore through Dean’s head was nearly as painful as the memories that ripped his heart to pieces the night before. He sat up on the motel bed and wondered how he ended up there. The last thing he recalled was sitting at the bar with a nearly empty bottle of Jack and that song on the jukebox.

That fucking song.

A knock at the door confused him further, as he scanned the room for any signs of Sam but saw none. He stumbled towards the door and tried to read the name of the motel off the fire exit map, but age had worn most of the letters away. The door wasn’t chained, so he attached it, then opened it just open to peer one untrustworthy eye at whomever had come knocking.

The man looked familiar, but in his current state, it escaped Dean on where he knew him.

“Yeah?” he asked, his voice rough with whiskey and sleep.

“Dean… it’s me, Mario. Came to check up on ya buddy. You hit the bottle hard last night my friend.” He raised up the white, grease-stained bag of food and smiled. “Can I come in? I brought breakfast.”

Dean squeezed his eyes shut and recalled a very blurry memory of Mario helping him off the barstool. He closed the door, unchained it and let Mario in, snatching the bag of food the moment the man walked through the door and spying inside it.

“Hope you don’t mind that I stopped by. I was going in to open the bar and wanted to see if you were alright.”

“You’re the one who got me in here last night?”

“Yeah. You had passed out on the bar top, man. Mumbling Y/N’s name and slurring the words of some song. I felt bad for ya, couldn’t get your brother to answer his phone to come get you, so I got you a room and here you are.”

Dean paused as he unwrapped the sausage sandwich and hash browns, “Thanks, I appreciate that.”

“Of course, Y/N would kill me if I didn’t. I offered to call her for you, but you were adamant that I didn’t. What happened? You guys were friends, right? I mean she used to talk about you all the time.”

“She did?” he asked before devouring the food, trying not to sound overly excited.

“Yeah, she, uh—” he stopped when his phone rang from his pocket. He pulled it out just enough to see the number and jumped up from the chair he’d just sat on. “Oh damn, I really gotta go. My boss is waiting for me at the bar. Glad you’re alright man, enjoy the grub. Your car is parked around back, by the way. I left the keys on the nightstand.”

“You drove my car?!” Dean asked with a bit of angry induced panic.

“Had to get you here somehow. Got my sister to follow me over and bring me home. Sorry, I gotta run, it was good to see you though,” Mario smiled but was happy to leave quickly when he realized Dean was upset about the car.

Dean finished the food and went to check on his baby and grab his duffle bag, before going back to the room and taking the longest, hottest shower of his life.

Two hours later, Dean had left the motel behind him, firmly pointed in the direction of home. Sam was off helping Eileen with a case in Idaho and pissed at him anyway. There was no other cases on his radar, so he figured home would be his best option.

As he put more miles between him and the small mountain town Y/N lived in, without looking, he rifled through the box of cassette tapes at his side. Not caring what he found, he shoved the first one he grabbed into the tape deck and slammed on the breaks when he recognized the opening licks to Reckless Life off the G N’R Lies, album. The song piped through the Impala’s speakers, making his jaw clench in frustration. He knew what he had to do, and if he fought it any longer, he would finally go insane.

“Sonofabitch!” he yelled and slammed his fist down on the steering wheel. “Fuck this,” he growled and sharply turned the wheel, spinning Baby around and pushing the gas pedal straight down to the floor.

The sun was nearing noon and the heat of the day was stifling as he guided the car up to her house. He fully expected to find her car in the driveway but wasn’t sure if it would be alone or not. To his surprise, her vehicle was gone, but Martin’s was there.

Dean realized that he didn’t care, he needed to see her. He needed to know if the months of pining for this woman had been worth it… was she worth it? He wanted to touch her; kiss her at least once. If it earned him a punch in the face from her husband, so be it. Dean knew he wasn’t normally the kind of man that would purposely break up a marriage, but he also knew he’d hate himself if he didn’t at least try.

He didn’t know what he was doing, exactly. Dean moved on instincts alone when he got out of the car and slowly approached the front door. He figured they got him this far in life, why not just follow them now. He didn’t know what he was going to say to her husband. Hell, he didn’t even know if they were still together. The only thing he did know was that her image wasn’t going away, and he needed to see her.

Every step he took, a different reason or thought barreled through his mind as to why he shouldn’t be doing this.

She doesn’t know about your life… what if when you tell her she freaks and runs… and this is all for nothing?

What if she’s happy with him now?

What if you misread the whole situation, you jackass?

What if, what if, what if…

Dean was so lost in thought, he didn’t hear her car pull up into the driveway or the door closing behind him.

You pulled into the driveway, and your stomach bottomed out at the sight of the Impala on the curb. At first you thought it was a dream, or the ghosts of things past coming back to haunt you. But seeing Dean slowly approaching your front door, caused you to realize it was real, and freeze completely. A swirling eddy of thoughts and emotions rushed through you so fast, you could barely understand any of them… scared for what was about to happen, delighted to see him, terrified of Martin’s reaction, curious, enamored, excited, petrified… Finally, once you were able to move, you got out of the car and started to approach him.

“Dean?”

He stopped at the sound of your voice, and when he turned around, it was as if no time had passed at all. A smirk twitched at the corner of his mouth and you noticed his hands nervously clenching and releasing.

“Hey.” His voice was deeper and raspier, his face looked drawn and tired, but there was the same wanting need burning in his eyes, getting more intense the longer he held your gaze.

“Hey,” you replied in more of a squeak, than an actual response. “What, uh, what’s up? Why are you here?”

“Well, oddly enough I ended up the bar last night. Had one too many and, uh…” he paused and chuckled sheepishly, “guess I tied one on. Mario got me to a room to pass out in.”

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, killer hangover, but,” he smiled and shrugged, “you know how it goes.”

You nodded but didn’t know what to say. You were fighting the urge to get any closer, to spark the conversation as to why he was really there. You thought maybe if you could keep it to friendly banter, you’d be able to watch him leave without it sparking any trouble with Martin. It may have worked, if he hadn’t noticed the shirt you were wearing.

Dean swallowed thickly and tentatively took the last dozen steps to close the gap between you. “You still have it.”

“Of course. I couldn’t ever part with it,” you smiled softly and pulled at the hem. “It was a great concert.”

“I was on my way home, Y/N,” he said, his voice shaky and nervous as he suddenly changing the subject. “I was headed home, running home actually, away from this damn town and that fucking bar. I was leaving without seeing you or causing you any trouble. Hell, I didn’t even mean to show up here. I was in the area for work, and somehow…”

You couldn’t help but chuckle and recite that infamous line from Casablanca. “Of all the gin joints in all the towns in all the world… he walks into mine,” you mumbled, but he heard you and nodded.

“Yeah, exactly. What sort of threw me, even more, was when that song came on the jukebox. Then when I was driving home, I pull out any old random cassette just to kill the silence and it’s ones of theirs,” he said and motioned to your shirt.

You tried to stifle the emotion that was building, as you recalled your own night before and hearing the song, seemingly random on the radio. But there was nothing random about that at all.

“Dean… I—”

“Just, let me finish, okay? My life is messy, and sort of going in one specific direction. There’s a plan, here, and it doesn’t include a whole lot of people that stick around. Its full of crazy coincidences, and lots of… scary things. I have no right to be here, to be talking to you in front of the house you share with your husband, but yet, here I am. Because I’m selfish, and I couldn’t leave without telling you—”

“Telling me what, Dean?”

“That, I’m pretty sure I’m love with you. The simple fact that I don’t know what you thought that was back then, friendship or something more, or that I’ve haven’t kissed you yet… it makes no sense. I just know that the time I spent with you at that bar, and at the concert… it won’t go away. YOU won’t go away.”

His declaration was shocking at first, but then, it wasn’t. Not really and mostly because, that’s exactly how you felt. There was no rhyme or reason for it. You spent a week of nights just talking to this stranger, getting wrapped up in his wit and charm. That moment you had at the concert cemented it, you felt something for him that you shouldn’t. Because you “belonged” to someone else, you didn’t allow yourself any more time to ponder what could have been with Dean. But now…

“Look, Y/N, I know there’s a lot—”

The front door crashed open cutting off his thought, and Martin stalked outside in nothing but a pair of jeans looking like a man crazed.

“Where the fuck have you been?” he roared at you, completely ignoring Dean standing there. He barreled towards you, a thin layer of sweat immediately forming on his head as the hot afternoon sun blazed down on everyone, heightening the atmosphere already heavy with excitement.

Dean seemed stuck in place, watching Martin come at you like a bull towards a Matador. It was when Martin’s hand grabbed your upper arm, that he sprang into action. Martin’s grip on your arm sent a bolt of pain down to your hand as you tried to wiggle free of his grasp, causing you to yelp with pain.

“Man, you better let her go,” Dean warned, finally earning a bit of attention from your husband.

“Who the fuck are you?!” Martin yelled, let go of you and tried to cock his arm back to punch Dean. Before he could even swing his arm forward, Dean popped the much larger man in his jaw, causing him to stumble back away from you. Dean stepped in front of you, protecting you from being grabbed again and clenched his fist in anticipation to swing a second time.

“I’m the guy she’s leaving with, that’s who,” Dean growled.

You grabbed a handful of his shirt and buried your face into his back. His shirt was sweaty, and he still smelled faintly of whiskey, but you didn’t care. At that moment all you wanted to do was go with him and never look back. But you couldn’t without standing up to Martin first.

Dean tried to stop you, but you ignored his attempt. “Martin, I’m sorry. I… I can’t do this anymore.” You looked at Dean briefly and was encouraged to continue just from the look of relief on his face. “I don’t love you anymore.”

“But you love him?! This is the same guy, isn’t it? The one you cheated with when I was gone!” Martin was making his way back towards Dean, ready for a second chance to fight.

“Yes and no. I never cheated on you, but yes, I met him at the bar and he became my friend. I never slept with him, never even kissed him. But I fell in love with him anyway. I’m sorry, Martin…”

He stopped coming towards you and Dean and laughed. “You know what, take her. She’s been nothing but a pain in the ass since I met her. I should never have come back to this shit town. Do you know what I left behind for you, you bitch? I left a good job and a good woman.”

You and Dean both were taken aback by that last part, but you didn’t even care. “Well then, I guess nothing’s stopping you from going back there then, is there?”

Dean slipped his hand into yours, just like he did that night at the concert and squeezed it tightly.

“Go fuck yourself, you whore,” he spat and shook his head. “This, this is mine, along with everything in it,” he motioned back wildly towards the house. “Car, too. So, if you leave, you leave with the shirt on your back and nothing else.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Fine by me. This shirt, this is my most prized possession anyway.” You turned to Dean and thought about kissing him right there, but you didn’t want your first kiss with him to be around your soon to be ex-husband. Instead, you simply asked Dean. “Ready?”

He didn’t say a word, only led you away from Martin and towards his car. As he pulled away from the curb, you silently said goodbye to the life you felt so desperately trapped in and didn’t feel one ounce of regret for it.

The first mile or two, both of you were completely silent. Dean moved the car into an empty parking lot of some closed-down supermarket and turned off the engine. The second he turned to you, you moved across the seat and exhaled nervously. His expression softened and his mouth relaxed into the hint of a grin.

“I thought about you every day,” he said, barely above a whisper.

Dean’s hand lightly brushed against your cheek, before lowering his lips towards yours. There had been so much anticipation for this moment on both parts, he didn’t want to rush it. His mouth hovered over yours, barely grazing against you, and when they finally came together it wasn’t anything like you imagined.

There wasn’t fireworks or electric sparks flying everywhere. That had already happened the night you met him. This was more of a reassurance; proof that this man was meant for you, and you for him. Dean kissed you softly, his lips parting only briefly but he didn’t rush it. Your patience had paid off and now you had all the time in the world; no reason to hurry anything along, except your slow burning need to feel more of him.

You positioned your hand on the back of his neck, which encouraged him to part your lips with his tongue. The more your mouths merged together, the more he tasted like mint and coffee, and easily felt better than anything had ever felt in your entire life. Dean’s hands traveled roughly down the length of your side, only pulling away from your kiss to slide himself closer, guiding your hips so you were now straddling his lap in the front seat of the Impala.

“Worth the wait?” you teased before kissing him again.

His hand tangled up in your hair, pushing your mouth deeper onto his. When you were able to come up for air again, he smiled as if still living in a dream. “So fucking worth it.”

“Dean, there’s so much we don’t know—”

“I know, and we will. We will figure it all out. Right now, all I know is that falling in love with you wasn’t a part of my life plan, but I don’t regret that I did. I don’t regret anything. I hope you don’t either.”

“Never,” you replied wistfully.

“You say that now,” he teased, but there was fear in his eyes.

“I will say that always. I knew I was in love with you by the second day I knew you. I just thought it was a crush since you were the first guy that was kind and made me laugh, that didn’t just hit on me or grab my ass. You made me feel so much just by talking to me, laughing with me. That concert, I wanted to kiss you, tell you to keep driving… but I got scared.”

“I wish you had,” he rasped and cupped your cheek with his hand. He slowly guided your face to his, allowing your lips to engage each other again. This time it was even harder to break away and you nearly weren’t able too. Cooler heads prevailed and eventually, you climbed off his lap, leaving him very clearly affected.

“That hotel you stayed at… think your room is still available?” you asked cautiously. “I mean, we don’t have to rush anyth—”

Dean started the engine and peeled out onto the road, roaring down the pavement and straight back to where he woke up that morning. You couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh at his reaction. As his one hand rested on the wheel, directing the Impala down the highway, his other arm wrapped around your shoulder and pulled you in.

“Patience is great and all, but I’m done waiting, now that I actually got you,” he said and kissed the top of your head, before putting his eyes back on the road.

You buried yourself into the crook of his arm and rested your hand on his thigh. You didn’t care what came next, you were pretty damn content right where you were and had no plans on going anywhere.

#cole winchester writing challenge #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester angst

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reddeaddamnation · 6 years ago

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Imagine: Being Sam and Dean’s sister and having a crush on Castiel

“C’mon, Sam, it’s obvious!“ Dean exclaimed rather loudly and looked at Sam, who only scoffed. “You can’t be serious right now.“ he answered “Cas? And Y/N? I can’t imagine it even in a million years. I mean...she’s so...“ Sam bit his lip and raised his eyebrows, looking for the right words to picture his older sister. “Reckless?“ Dean hinted with a scoff ��Temperamental?“ Sam shrugged and put his hands in his pockets. “And he’s so...“ this time Dean cut him off “Yeah, yeah. He’s a nerdy angel, but okay, just because you can’t picture it doesn’t mean it isn’t possible! I mean, I can’t believe you haven’t noticed! Like that one time when he, oh, so heroically backstabbed the demon that held her by the throat?“ Sam scoffed “He’s done that for us a million times.“ But Dean continued “Or when he held her hand while she was hanging from the 10th floor of the apartment building? And I was wondering why they hardly looked at each other without blushing afterwards. Y/N didn’t want to say what exactly was said back there.“

“Dean! He pulled you out of hell! He saved us countless of times!“ Sam yelled. “Yeah, but, when she sprained her ankle last month, Cas practically didn’t leave her side. When would he do something like that for us?“ the older sibling scoffed “And the way they blush when they have to sit near each other during research.” Sam still couldn’t believe it. Y/N having a crush on Castiel of all people! “Believe me, Sammy.” Dean continued “Opposites attract and me, of all people, understand these things. And their little games are seriously getting on my nerves.” Sam looked at him surprised “What do you mean?” The seriousness on his brother’s face almost scared him “I say we finally set them up on a date if they don’t want to do it themselves.”

“What exactly did you have to call me here for again?“ Castiel asked in his usual annoyed tone and his expression said exactly how displeased he was when the Winchesters called him from heaven. At 11 at night. But that expression softened when he looked at Y/N and he cleared his throat, looking away from her awkwardly. Their relationship was rather strange. He refused to believe he was in love and she did everything in her power to ensure her brothers don’t notice her crush on the angel. She sometimes even acted mean and arrogant! Well, Cas thought, she sure has inherited more qualities of one brother more than the other. She had Dean’s personality and Sam’s intellect, making her a perfect combination of the two. But words, describing her as ‘perfect‘ or ‘amazing‘ and ‘beautiful‘ made Castiel’s mind drift off elsewhere and he blushed more than needed, so he tried to avoid thinking about them.

“We think...“ Sam stuttered, trying to find the right words and avoiding the angel’s gaze, “We think a demon is behind the disappearance of several people here.“ Dean continued with an awkward smile stretched across his lips “We called you here to...“ Dean stuttered “To help us kill it.“ Sam finished the sentence. Both Castiel and Y/N raised their eyebrows at them “As far as I know...“ Castiel started “You never called me for an ordinary demon?“ Y/N pushed herself off the desk she was leaning on “Yeah. What’s so special about this one that we have to call Trenchcoat over there to help us?“ she eyed them suspiciously. Yes, this little scene was enough to explain their relationship “We’ve never had problems with dealing with one demon. Where did you find him anyway? I was with you the entire day. I thought we were staying here for the night and leaving“ Dean turned his attention to her now and cleared his throat “Well, change of plans. This one is too powerful.“ he exclaimed confidently and maybe suspiciously cheerful. “We’ll need Cas’es help.“

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, her eyebrow still raised, but closed it soon after. “Alright. Where do we start?” she finally asked, pacing around the room. “Me and Sam are going out to ask some witnesses! You two stay here and...uh...research stuff.” Dean grabbed Sam by the elbow and with a final awkward smile, he started pulling him towards the door. “Wait, you didn’t even put on your disguises!” She yelled after them, but just then, the door of the motel room was slammed shut and only muffled voices were heard. Angry ones at that. Castiel and Y/N stared at the door for awhile, until the angel sighed heavily, his hands in his pockets “Alright. What do you suggest we do?” he asked, still not looking at her. “Those two are up to something.” Y/N answered “Well, since we have no leads on anything, I plan on taking a break from these two and their shenanigans.” she grabbed her purse from the nightstand by her bed “I’m going to the bar. You coming? First round’s on me.” Castiel looked at her with surprise and hoped he didn’t say anything embarrassing, so he only answered her with the word “Yes.”

The bar wasn’t far from the hotel and there was nothing to worry about in case they were attacked. It was an ordinary bar in the middle of nowhere with old, shabby furniture, wooden tables, a bartender who stared at everyone suspiciously and a waitress who, Y/N was sure, did more for her clients than just serve drinks. After all, Y/N was armed with a pistol in her purse and an angel was with her, so they would watch each other’s backs. It was two hours past midnight and the two of them never stopped talking about anything they found interesting. At first, it seemed they were both on the edge in one another’s presence and for a half an hour just stared at the floor awkwardly, but after several drinks, they loosened up and chatted and laughed at the thousands of stories Y/N told and the memories they all shared.

“I haven’t told you about the time I literally bitch slapped a demon chick in front of three others and my brothers included.“ Y/N spoke proudly “Her face was priceless, especially when I told her off after. Let’s just say she will remember it all her miserable life in Hell and learn her lesson not to mess with my brothers. Especially Sammy.“ She took a swing from her fourth glass of gin and somewhat had started slurring her words by now. Castiel wasn’t far behind. He drank glasses of whiskey one after the other and he, himself, started feeling the alcohol doing its magic on his body. He was staring at her adoringly and in a way he would find unacceptable and inappropriate if the circumstances were different.

“Who taught you to drink like that?“ she asked with a playful smirk stretched across her lips, downing the last of her drink and motioned to the waitress to order a new one. “Oh, well...“ Castiel stuttered and blushed, shuffling in his seat awkwardly. Y/N leaned back on her chair and crossed her legs on the table. His eyes lingered there for several moments “You know...“ she spoke, making him tear his eyes away from her thighs “I wonder how much of a bad influence Dean must be if he can corrupt an angel.“ she laughed playfully. Castiel joined her “Well, he is something.“

Their new glasses of drinks came. “I’m only kidding, Cas.” she smiled and removed her legs from the table, ignoring the glare the waitress gave her. “I actually...” she blushed slightly, but never shifted her eyes from his “I like you, Castiel. It’s not just the gin talking. I liked you for a long time. Just too proud to admit sooner...” she scoffed at herself This was the moment they were both waiting for... In the blink of an eye Castiel was next to her with angelic speed and she only had time to gasp, before his hand wrapped around the back of her neck and pulled her in for a kiss.

“I swear I’ll kill them both if this doesn’t work!“ Dean threw the room keys on the desk and sat on his bed. “I don’t know, Dean. You know how she tends to be.“ Sam shrugged “Proud till the end.“ Dean glared at him “Then all my hope is in angel boy.“ Sam sighed and raised his eyebrows, walking over to the window and looking at the dark parking lot in the back of the motel. Suddenly he froze in his spot, staring with disbelief somewhere in the distance. “Hey, Dean...“ he called, sounding almost frightened “You should see this...“. Dean blinked at his brother and stood up to see what surprised his brother so much. When he saw what Sam was talking about, everything started going black for him. “Seriously?!“ he yelled “The Impala?!“ Sam suddenly burst out in an uncontrollable fit of laughter, holding onto his stomach “Not my baby! I’ll kill them!“ Sam wiped a stray tear from the end of his eye and looked at his brother amused “Wasn’t part of the plan, huh?“

Y/N didn’t know for how long their kiss continued, but surely didn’t want it to end. When Castiel pulled away, he was smiling a mysterious smile and Y/N scoffed “Okay, let’s say you feel the same way, then?” she asked playfully. “Well, I’d say it’s obvious.” he answered, scoffing “And I think I know why your brothers were acting so weird earlier.” Y/N downed her drink in one gulp and cringed slightly as the liquid burned her throat “I figured. Only they’re able to come up with such shenanigans. And as thankful as I am, I think we should pay Dean back in some way.” She looked at Castiel with half lidded eyes, which were shining with mischief. “You...have something in mind?” the angel asked and in the next moment she raised her hand to silence him and slurred in a drunken way with a lazy smile “You know what would really make him mad?” she asked and let out a light laugh “Let’s have...sex in his car.”

#supernatural #supernatural castiel #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel x reader imagine #castiel imagine

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miss-spnm0mma · 7 years ago

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Love Her Madly

Dear God, I’m the worst at challenges. But you never know till you do one! This is my (late) entry for @grace-for-sale ‘s 666 follower celebration challenge! It’s not the best fic I’ve ever written, I basically pulled most of this out of my ass at like 3 am two nights before the original due date, then just finished it tonight because I, very sadly, had my boyfriend break up with me a few days before the extended due date..I’ll probably be inactive a little bit like I was before to try and get myself together, but I’ll be back, I love y’all too much.

So I’ll stop rambling and let you get to reading!

Characters: Dean x reader, Sam, Jack(mentioned)

Words: 1,879

Warnings: Fluff, somewhat mentions of sexual activity

Tags: @grace-for-sale @sparklingcas @splendidcas @impalaimagining @supernaturallymarvellous @livelovelike555

IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE TAGGED(or untagged) AT ALL PLEASE LET ME KNOW

Feedback is much appreciated!!

You let out a sigh as you pushed the door of the bunker closed with your foot. “Boys, I’m back with the food! Come and get it!” You descended the stairs, trying desperately not to drop the drink tray in your hands. As you carefully placed the bags and tray down on the table in the library, Sam and Dean walked into the library with defeated expressions. You started to pull the food out of the bags while watching the brothers. They threw themselves down onto the chairs and let out a sigh. “Still no luck finding Jack?” Sam shook his head as Dean ran a hand down his face.

“We’ve been searching for hours. My eyes hurt from staring at a screen for so long; I don’t understand how you do it, Sam.” Sam rolled his eyes at his brother and accepted the chicken salad and drink from you with a smile.

“We’ll find him, don’t worry. Sometimes it’s best if we take a break. So eat up, you can look again after your stomachs are full.” You slid two burgers and a drink over to Dean and he looked up at you, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Extra bacon?” You gave him a wink as you pulled out your own burger and plopped yourself on a chair, putting your feet up on the table.

“Extra bacon.” Dean unwrapped one of his burgers and took a bite, letting out a moan.

“God damn, you’re the best, y/n.” You let out a short laugh as you take a bite of your own. As the three of you ate in silence, you noticed that Dean kept looking up at you. You glanced up at him, catching him staring and smirked when a light pink dusted his cheeks, knowing he got caught. He looked away, letting out a fake cough, crumpling his empty wrappers and standing up, mumbling something about going back to work on finding Jack. When he left the room, you turned to Sam.

“What’s up with Dean lately?” Sam’s eyes flicked up at you and shrugged.

“I don’t know. Did anything happen between the two of you that I don’t know of?”

You thought back to all the hunts you’ve been on and all the time you’ve spent together. You shrugged to yourself and crumpled your own empty wrapper. “Unless I was cursed by a witch and don’t remember anything, no. I’ve noticed he stares at me when he thinks I’m not paying attention. And if I do catch him, then he leaves without saying anything. He has been getting very protective of me on hunts recently as well, even though he knows I’m fully capable. He won’t talk to me about it; he practically ignores me when I try to talk him about it.” You saw a twinkle of realization in Sam’s eyes as his lips flipped up into a knowing smile. You narrowed your eyes at him as he stood up, the empty container in hand. “Sam..what do you know.”

He shook his head and started to walk away. “I’m not getting in the middle of this. I’m going to get some rest before trying to look for Jack some more. Goodnight, y/n.” You stood up and yelled out his name but he just put his hand up and waved. You let out a frustrated groan as you threw yourself back in your seat. You grabbed your drink and sipped on it slowly and thought about Dean. You couldn’t deny that you felt a pull when you were around him. You found him very attractive but who doesn’t? He always knew how to make you laugh and smile, even on your worst days. You let out another groan, sucking down the rest of your drink and stood up. You stopped at the kitchen to throw away the trash before heading to Dean’s room. You weren’t going to leave there till you got some answers as to why he’d been acting the way he was.

When you got to his room, you stopped for a moment, your heart starting to pound in your chest. You took a deep breath and knocked on the door waiting for him to let you in. After a few minutes of silence, you knocked again. When you still didn’t get an answer, you went to knock again when the door swung open. The two of you stared at each other. His hair was messed up like he had been running his hands through it and his lips were parted in surprise. You blinked at him a few times before letting out a fake cough and putting your hand down. “Um, can I come in? We gotta talk.”

Dean nodded and turned around, walking over to his bed and sitting on the edge. You watched as he ran a hand through his hair before letting out a breath and walking in, closing the door behind you. You stood in front of his door, wondering how you were going to go about this. Dean looked up at you; his green eyes darted across your face, waiting for you to speak. “What is it that you wanted to talk about?”

You looked down at your feet for a moment before looking back up at him. There was something in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place, but it was that something that you wanted to figure out. “Are you okay?”

Dean looked at you with a confused look. “If you’re talking about not being able to find Jack, I don’t-“

You took a step towards him and laced your fingers together in front of you. “It’s not about Jack.”

Dean turned himself on the bed so that he was facing you. “I don’t know what you mean.” You took in a breath as you walked closer to the bed and sat on the edge, right in front of Dean. Your knee was brushing against his and he looked down at them.

“You’ve been acting weird lately, Dean. Sam and I have both noticed it. You are very protective of me on hunts, to the point that you won’t let me go on solo hunts anymore. I’ve been catching you staring at me when you think I don’t know. I just, I’m worried that I might have done something wrong or you don’t trust me anymore.”

Dean ran a hand down over his mouth and looked into your eyes before looking away. “You haven’t done anything wrong, y/n.”

You place your hand on his thigh and he looks down at it before glancing up at you. “Then what is it, Dean?” He let out a sigh and placed his hand on yours, rubbing light circles on the back of your hand and looking back down.

“It’s just... I don’t know.” You put your other hand over his and gave it a squeeze.

“Dean, you can tell me. If it’s something I can help with, I will.” He looked back up at you and reached out with his free hand and cupped your face. You studied his face as he watched you. His cheeks were tinted pink making you aware of the amount of freckles he had dusted all over his face. His lips were parted slightly, making you bite your lip. Good god, he was more gorgeous than you originally thought, especially this close up.

“Sweetheart, if you keep looking at me like that, I am going to fall more in love with you.” Your heart stopped at his words. You parted your lips in surprise at his confession, not knowing what to say. “You don’t have to love me back, hell I don’t expect you to even like a broken man like me, but if you are okay with it, I am going to give you my heart.” You searched his face, trying to find any hint that he was joking. But as you looked, you found nothing but truth. The two of you stared at each other, not wanting to move or talk, fearing that it might all be a dream.

After a few minutes of listening to each other breathe, you let out a small laugh. “I thought you hated chick flick moments...” Dean’s face broke out into a smile as he let out a laugh of his own. He pulled you into his lap and cupped the other side of your face, bringing your lips mere inches from his.

“If you tell Sam about this..” You looked at Dean through your lashes and gave a small smile.

“What are you gonna do? Sew my mouth shut?” Dean’s mouth cracked up into a smile, showing off those handsome wrinkles in the corners of his eyes

“Stop talking now.” Your eyes fluttered shut when his lips finally connected with yours. It felt as though there were fireworks going off in your stomach. You ran your fingers through his soft hair, pulling him closer to you as you cherished the moment.

It was a good few minutes before the two of you finally broke apart, breathing heavily as you tried to catch your breath. When the two of you opened your eyes, you both let out a laugh, not believing that this was real. You reached up and wiped a little bit of your nude lipstick off the corner of his mouth before pulling him in for another kiss. You let out a squeal when Dean flipped the both of you, your back bouncing on the mattress. You let out a small laugh as he nuzzled his stubble covered cheek on your neck before peppering kisses across your jaw.

After spending the entire night with Dean, you walked into the kitchen, wearing nothing but a pair of panties and one of his old t-shirts. You had put your tangled hair in a messy bun and pulled ingredients out to make breakfast, before starting a pot of coffee. Sam walked in, hair still messy from sleep before stopping in his tracks. When you caught him staring, you raised an eyebrow at him. “Good morning, Sam. Sleep well?”

He groaned and threw himself down on one of the chairs at the table. “Not with all the noises the two of you were making last night. Next time, could you possibly keep it down?” You snorted out a laugh as you placed bacon down in a pan.

Dean walked in and headed straight for you. “No can do, Sammy. Smells good sweetheart.” He wrapped his arms around your waist and kissed your shoulder. You pushed him off when you heard the coffee pot go off and walked over to make three cups. You handed Sam his first, he smiled in thanks before taking a long gulp. You turned to Dean and handed him his. He took it, placed it on the counter and pulled you in for a kiss. You smiled and kissed back, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck. You heard Sam whisper “get a room,” before you broke apart and handed Dean his coffee again. He winked at you before taking a sip of his coffee and sitting down. You were all smiles as you finished making breakfast for the three of you. A perfect way to start the day.

#courtney writes things #fanfiction #supernatural #dean x reader #fluff #Grace's 666 Challenge #my entry #dean winchester #grace-for-sale

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randomfandomimagine · 7 years ago

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Ironic Halloween (Supernatural Halloween Imagine)

Characters: Sam and Dean Winchester

Fandom: Supernatural

Categories: Reader Insert, Female!Reader, Halloween

Title: Ironic Halloween

Requested by @imaginehuntress:

Going on a hunt with the Winchesters and needing to dress up for a Halloween party. To get into a targets house.

For once, we weren’t resigned with the repetitive job. This case was quite fun because of the fact that it was Halloween! I couldn’t really say my hunter friends thought the same, though.

Dean sighed next to me, obviously not too content with having to dress up. Sam seemed almost as resigned, despite the fact that I was quite enthused for Halloween.

I knew they were secretly enjoying our cover. Or at least Dean might.

“You look really handsome, boys” I teased them a bit as we walked to the house.

“Shut up” Sam grumpily replied.

It was hilarious, because we had to get the costumes they had left in the closest store. And leaving it last minute, we had to resign ourselves with the crappiest and most cliché Halloween costumes ever.

I was wearing a black gown and pointy hat that were supposed to resemble those of a witch. At least I covered my face in some make-up to look more the part, otherwise it would be too dull.

Dean was wearing a black and red cape and a fake set of teeth, pretending to be Dracula. Luckily for Sam, they didn’t have any clown costumes, or otherwise Dean might have teased him about it.

The younger Winchester, on turn, was disguised as a werewolf. Which was quite ironic, since they had hunt werewolves in the past. Come to think of it, Dean disguised as a vampire was also very ironic. And me as a witch, of course.

I started laughing under my breath, slowing my walking pace as it was hard for me to hide it since I found it so funny.

“What are you laughing at?” Dean threw his hands in the air in frustration.

“How the tables have turned” I mumbled, looking from one to the other.

“Y/N, I’m really not in the mood” Sam’s voice came muffled behind the werewolf mask.

“In other circumstances, I would be hunting your asses” I made a pause that I used to smirk smugly at them. “Mister vampire and werewolf”

“Right back at ya, witch” Dean said, putting emphasis in the last part, probably to subtly and jokingly insult me as well.

“You’re enjoying this, Dean” His brother complained, angrily taking off his mask.

His face was all sweaty, and his long hair was sticking to his skin. It seemed like he was breathing just then that the mask was off as well.

“Nah” Was all the older Winchester said, but I could notice a hint of an amused grin twitched in the corner of his lips. He was secretly enjoying this.

The nerd probably thought dressing up as a vampire was kinda cool, not to mention a change from the usual boring work. And sure, he was ‘ironically’ appreciating Halloween.

Not to mention he was loving seeing Sam so resigned wearing a stupid werewolf mask and matching costume. And he did comment on how attractive I looked dressed as a witch when I tried the costume on back in the shop. Dean was having a blast.

We finally arrived at the house and rang the bell, waiting for them to open. And hoping we could blend in and they’d let us in.

“Was this necessary?” Sam scowled at me, frustrated as he fixed his costume.

“How do you expect to get into a Halloween party otherwise?”

“Isn’t it great that it so happens that people are living here and they decided to celebrate a Halloween party the exact day that we need to get into the house for a case?” Dean mumbled, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

“It is, actually” I teased him, nudging him in the ribs.

He just sent me an unamused glare that made me laugh.

When the door opened, the girl –who we supposed was the host –didn’t even blink as she stepped to the side and motioned for us to get inside. She surely assumed we were there for the party like everyone else.

Everything was working according to plan.

Not to arise any suspicion to ourselves, the three of us separated to explore different parts of the big house. I went on to the second floor with Sam while Dean blended in the first floor where the party was taking place. Surely, the noise of the loud music playing and the kids shouting and laughing would drown out the noise of the EMF detector.

I went to one of the rooms, trying to block out the racket from downstairs. I could have sworn I heard something coming from inside that bedroom. A… moan? Could it be a ghost? A spirit?

Gulping in anticipation, I slowly reached out to get ahold of the doorknob. I took a deep breath and prepared to turn it, clutching my iron ring in my finger. When I started turning the knob, the entire door shook as though it had been aggressively hit from the inside.

My stomach turned with the thought that the ghost foresaw my intentions and was warning me.

Braving up, I slowly turned the doorknob. Then, when it was completely turned, I yanked the door towards me to open it and get it done and over with.

BAM!!

Something heavily fell on me, scaring the crap out of me and making me scream in horror. My heart raced inside my chest, my breath became elaborated gasps as I recovered.

I was thrown to the ground as whatever was inside that room hit me and fell limply on top of me. I landed on my back with a thud and craned my neck to see what had made me totter.

“What the-?” An unknown voice exclaimed in outrage.

What had pushed me to the ground wasn’t a ghost. It was people!

A couple of teenagers. By the looks of it, they were making out inside that room, probably leaning on the door being too focused in their passion to notice I was arriving and swinging the door open.

They were definitely disheveled and blushing, all heated up.

“Get the hell out of here!” I shouted at them, so angrily that they immediately obeyed.

“Y/N!” Sam called me as he ran to my aid. “You okay?! Did you find anything?”

“I’m okay” I sighed, resigned as he took me by the arm and pulled me to my feet. “And no, I didn’t find anything. It was a false alarm”

My friend sighed under his mask and took it off, combing the long hair away from his face.

“I couldn’t find anything either” He pursed his lips together in annoyance as his green eyes pierced me. “Let’s wait to see if Dean did”

I nodded, looking over to the staircase where he should show up from at any moment. We had agreed to meet up here in fifteen minutes, which had allegedly passed.

Indeed, soon enough he came by jogging up the stairs.

“Anything?” He asked us, staring in expectation.

“A whole lot of nothing” I shrugged, slapping my hands against my sides in defeat.

“It could have been a Halloween rumor” Sam rolled his eyes sassily. “Just a stupid horror story without any true bases”

Dean gave us the most annoyed look he could manage and slowly saved the EMF detector on his back pocket, thoroughly pissed off.

“Let’s get the hell out of here”

“Best thing I heard all night”

“Who wants pumpkin pie?” I teased, watching Dean’s expression.

He stopped walking and looked over his shoulder to me, glaring intensely. Even though I could have sworn he whispered a low ‘me’ before he faced his back to me.

As we left the party behind, walking the dark streets, we pouted and grumped.

What a waste of time!

“Great, all was for nothing” Sam huffed, taking his mask off and fixing his hair.

“Not for nothing” Dean grinned at me, a mischievous twinkle in his green eyes. “We could go trick or treating”

“Yes!” I exclaimed, extremely excited about this.

We both looked at Sam, wondering what he thought about Dean’s idea. He shrugged, completely resigned and defeated.

“What the hell, let’s do it” He said as he shoved the mask back on his head again.

#halloween #imagine #oneshot #supernatural #supernatural imagine #supernatural oneshot #spn #spn imagine #spn oneshot #reader insert #sam winchester #dean winchester #sam #dean #halloween imagine #halloween oneshot #spn halloween imagine #spn halloween oneshot #requested

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