#dean swoon

[hazel-eye-coffee-shop-girl-blog]

Just Breathe- Series

Good evening everyone! here is the second chapter in the Just Breathe Series. This series was inspired/prompted by the ask that was submitted by @deans-spinster-witch to read the first chapter click here for the original post. @deans-spinster-witch was gracious enough to lend her skills in ruffing out a few of the mishaps in chapter one, and I will post that updated version at some point and link it, and did the same for this second chapter. 

Here is the original ask for a refresher.

Ask from @deans-spinster-witch:

Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt.  He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from.  He realizes he loves her, but may lose her.  After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.

This second chapter is going to start with a bit of time jump, but don’t worry we got flashback a plenty to fill in the gaps. Multi POV between the main character, Y/N, and Dean Winchester, mentions of Sam Winchester. This is angst, sweet/fluffy, swearing, implied sexy times. Oh and word count is at 7,250-ish, sorry but not sorry. 

Sadly the Winchesters are not mine, but the story is so please don’t steal and post as your own. But likes, reblog, and comments are always welcome. As always any mistakes like grammar, spelling, function is also all mine, so be kind when pointing it out, I do my best. 

I would like to know if you like this chapter would you want to see a third chapter? or maybe a prequel to answer any questions you might have regarding Y/N and Dean? Let me know. 

Thank you again for reading, and you would like to send me a prompted or story idea, send it my way. 

Happy Reading

Time Jump to 4 months ahead. 

Y/N POV

Shit, Shit, Shit! Where the hell are my keys! You yell out in frustration as you move frantically around your house, looking for the one thing that you need to get to your appointment on time. Tossing the pillows from the couch, goddamn it! You were never like this, ever since COVID, your short term memory has been foggy to put it nicely. Resorting to keeping both a paper list and digital one on your phone, is your new normal. Walking into a room to do something, and instantly forgetting what you came for. Case in point, not remembering where you put your goddamn keys! 

You hate running late, you pride yourself on always being early to things, and this appointment was an important one. Walking into the kitchen, you start to look in the not so obvious places. Opening up the fridge, nope not in there. Pull open the freezer next, yep there they are, right next to the pint of mint chip ice cream that you just had to have yesterday at like 11 pm. Only to then be disappointed that you now can’t stand the taste of your once favorite ice cream, fuck you COVID! 

Ugh, seriously, you are going to be the death of me, you think. Grabbing your keys, you push the freezer door closed, and head off to the hospital for your fourth month CT scan. Locking the door behind you, the crisp air of fall hits you. God how you don’t want winter to come any sooner then it has too. Winters in Michigan can be brutal, especially on the coast line. Pulling your light jacket close to you, you quicken your pace and get into your jeep to start up the car quickly, and pull out of the driveway. Not noticing the very familiar black impala parked about three houses down. 

****

You make it with time to spare, as you wait in the waiting room after checking in, you try your best to calm yourself. Fiddling with your phone, you find that scrolling through Instagram is getting you nowhere and your emails have been radio silent for months now. Exhausted, you put your phone away, you look around the room. For mid morning it's not too busy, the daytime talkshow mixes in with the white noise of the hospital. It's so beige, beige carpet, walls, even the uncomfortable furniture is beige. It makes sense, given it's a hospital; money should be spent on actual patient care, not on the latest interior furnishings., But still, at least get some interesting artwork. Looking to the piece across from you: an abstract painting of paint strokes in grays, blues, and you guessed  it, beige.

“Ms. Moore?” The nurse's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to see her standing at the entryway in blue scrubs, dark brown hair pulled back, with a kind smile. 

“Yep” you reply to her, but you're sure she would have guessed that was you, as your head snapped at attention when your name was called. “Hi”, giving her a smile as you walk towards her.

“Hi,” she replies, “can you tell me your last name and date of birth?” She starts walking down the hallway, looking at your chart, the path was second nature for her. You rattle off your last name and birthday for her, then she stops just off from an open doorway, “right in here.” Letting you walk in first.

She takes a seat at a desk, swiping her badge to start keying in some information. “So, here for your four month CT scan.” she states, but it also feels like a question.

“Umm, yeah, it's my second one.” You reply, still getting used to coming to the doctor more than twice a year. You only ever went if you were feeling really sick. 

“Looks like the first one was clean, but we like to do a few in close succession when someone has had a severe case of covid.” she explains, her eyes are kind, and reassuring, “I am sure this one will be just as good, and then hopefully the doctor will schedule them farther apart.”

She must see the worry on your face. Not sure how to respond, you just nod your head. She takes your vitals, asks if anything else has changed since your last visit, and if there were any other concerns you wanted to discuss today. “No, I don’t think so.” 

Typing a few more things in the computer, and then swapping her badge again to lock the computer. “I am surprised your brother is not here with you today.” 

“What?” You're taken aback by this, brother, does she mean Dean? How would she know about him? Was it in your chart? You don’t remember adding him as your emergency contact.

She can tell you are put off by this. “Sorry, I should have re-introduced myself. I was your nurse when you were in here with covid.”

“Oh, yeah, sorry, I should have…”

“No, it's fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”

Thinking back to that time, she does seem familiar now, “well it's nice to see you again…” struggling to remember her name quickly, but not inconspicuously looking at her badge, “Bridget.” This gets a laugh out of her, and you do the same. “I was happy to see your name on the schedule today, and I thought you were the one with the very cute, and very attentive brother. That's why I am surprised he is not here.”

Ah yes, Dean, not being here. That is a long, long story that you're sure she does not want, nor has the time to hear right now. You give her a forceful smile, “Yeah, Dean, he has something today, so just me.”

Her smart watch goes off, and she looks at the time, “well we should get you down to CT. After your scan, we will come back here and the doctor will be with you to go over the results.” She gets up, and you follow. 

****

The wait feels like forever, and in the small exam room with nothing to look at but an exam table -and beige walls - you were lost in your head. Worrying about what if they found something, what if you developed lesions, or anything that could compromise your health. God, how you wish Dean was here, or even Sam. Someone to hold your hand and distract you from the impending doom and dark thoughts that were creeping in. Dean would distract you with lame jokes, or stories about how Sammy was terrified of doctors. He would get you to smile anyway he could, probably go so far and raid the supplies of tongue depressors and cotton balls, saying something like “they don’t need all of them, do they?”

“Ms. Moore, how are we today?” The doctor's voice breaks up your fleeting thoughts of Dean, as if he was right there, but as soon as the man in the white coat opens the door and steps through, Dean disappears. 

“Umm, good, at least I hope so.” You reply, wanting to keep the pleasantries short, let get to the point so you can get out of here. 

He takes a look over the file, and then pulls up the scans on the computer. He seems to be taking forever, did he not look at them beforehand! Come on man just tell me already! “Everything looks good, I am not seeing any growth of lesions or scar tissue from the tube.”

Relife floods your body, letting out a sight, “oh that great news, so I am done with coming in?” you hope so, wanting to never see this place again, at least for a while. 

He turns to face you, his dark brown eyes are kind, but you can tell right away he is not going to give you the answer you want. “Not yet, but we can push them to every six months.”

Okay, twice a year, I guess that is a compromise you can take, “okay, so I will see you in the spring.” Starting to get up to leave, but he stops you.

“In two months, we can start doing six month visits. I want to see you again one more time in two months. If that scan is clean then we push them to six month visits.” He explains. 

You sit back down in defeat, you're going to be back here in two months, really! You know you can’t take your frustration out on him, he is just looking out for your health and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Okay.” Slightly defeated, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch, and sleep for the next two months away. 

Giving your hands a reassuring pat, “two months will fly by I promise. Is there anything else you want to discuss today? Still having some memory issues?”

You know that you should be honest with him, that you think you have gotten worse since Dean left, but honestly are you sure? He did so much for you in that short time, maybe, you were like this before, and he just didn’t point it out. Plus you just wanted to go home, what really could he do anyways? “Nothing new on that. I think I just need to get back to my normal routine and I will be fine.” 

Getting up from his chair, “Sounds good. I will send Bridget back in, she will get you set up for your next appointment. We will see you in two months. Have a good day.” shutting the door behind him. You're back alone in that quiet room.

Alone, you're alone, once again. You can feel the panic start to creep in. Alone, and even though the scan was good, he still wants you to come back. Alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to make stupid jokes. You did this to yourself, you know that, he would have stayed, you pushed him…

“Alright, Doctor says two months humm.” Bridget's voice breaks through. It's light and airy. Trying to make the situation as pleasant as possible. As soon as she sits down, she can tell you're not alright, “Hey, what's wrong?” She asks, setting down the chart, and focusing on you.

Feeling a tear run down your cheek, fuck why are you crying.  “Umm…it's nothing….yeah two months…” You take a ragged breath, pushing all your emotions down, down, down, to the deepest part of your soul where they should always live. You can cry when you get home. Suck it up for two more minutes!

“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on.” She is not letting you wash this away, she grabs the tissue box, and holds it out for you to pull a couple out of the box. “Your scan was clean, the doctor is just being cautious that's all.” 

“I know it's just…I really wish he was here….”

“Dean,” she replies, filling in the blanks. You nod at this, and wipe your eyes and face. “I am sure if you talk to him, he will come to the next appointment.”

Oh if she only knew, but you couldn’t lay this all out on a complete stranger. Again she just wants to do her job, and move on to the next patient, you're taking up too much of her time. “I am sure you're right.” Taking a few ragged breaths. 

She gives you a reassuring smile, and turns to the computer to book your appointment, reminding you that you can always change it to accommodate if Dean can’t make it this time. “I could tell he really cares for you. Even in the short time I saw him, he wouldn’t leave your side for anything. Practically had to kick him out every night when visiting hours were over.” Trying to make the situation light, and hopefully get a smile back on your face. 

Giving her a short laugh, “yeah that sounds like Dean.” You can see it, him waiting until the last possible second. A security guard to escort him out.

Both of you get up, and she walks you to the door, and down the hall towards the exit. Seeing you coming back around, she decides to let you in on a little secret. Stopping you before opening up the door to the waiting room she leans in slightly. “Just between you and me, I knew he wasn’t your brother.”

“What….I mean…no he is….” You stammer out, hoping that she wasn’t going to bust you for…something, you're not sure? But still not wanting to get into trouble.

“Don’t worry dear, it's fine.” She quickly replies, trying to calm your fears. 

You let out a sigh of relief, “How did you know?”

“Two things. One he just pulled on my heartstrings so much that I figured what would be the harm in him sticking around, even if he wasn’t related. Plus, if I was ever lucky enough to have a guy look at me the way he did to you, I would want him to be by my side every second.”

Her smile is contagious, and although you're still doubting that what you feel for Dean would ever be reciprocated, now is not the time to hash it out with her. “What was the second?”

“I may have heard him one night on the phone with someone, saying he couldn’t lose you, that he needed to tell you that he was in love with you.'' She says matter of factly, pushing the door open and waiting for you to walk through. 

*******

Dean POV

He watches as she pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car. He had followed her from a safe distance from the hospital to the store, and then back to her house. She didn’t notice once, even though he had taught her in the past how to spot a tail. Did she get bad news? Maybe it's the COVID that is affecting her hunter instincts? Fuck, if thats the case, what else could she be missing? Is it stupid and desperate of him to be following her, and watching from a distance? Maybe, but also not, if she is not noticing simple things like him following her. What if  Lucifer, or one of his henchmen, came after her? Anxiety just thinking of irrational attacks on you causes his chest to tighten as he pulls back into the parking spot a few houses down.

He should be a man and go up to you, talk to you, and see you face to face. He missed you, your smile, your laugh - fuck, everything about you. He knows he screwed up. As soon as he did what he did, he wished he could have taken it back, but the damage was done. He kept saying it was for the best, that you would forgive him, and move on. But you can’t forgive him unless he stops being a little stalker and owns up to what he did.

Flashback to the night of the big blowup. Dean POV

Standing there, staring down the closed door, you wish right now you had superpowers to see through the door and see if she’s alright. Hell, you don’t need to be a superhero to know she’s not. You're just wondering what brought this on. “Y/N, come on, talk to me” you plead, softly knocking on the door. “I am sorry…I don’t mean to…” your rambling stops when you hear soft sobs from the otherside of the door. 

“Just go away Dean!” She yells between sobs. “I can’t breathe with you here… I can’t…”

You grab the door knob, fear and pressure weighing down on you to get to her, to hold her.  Most importantly, to make her understand that your overbearing protectiveness is coming from a place of needing to be in control, that you care for her, and need to protect her “Y/N, please just open the door, let's talk? I promise I will ease up, I can do better.”

You can hear her give a small laugh at that, you're about to question her on this when your phone goes off. Screw it, let it go to voicemail, she is more important than anything else. “I am not giving up on you, on us. You have to come out eventually.” 

Your phone stops ringing for a second and then starts back up again. What the Hell? “You should answer that, Dean.” She states without hesitation, but  with an undertone of sadness. 

Letting out a sigh, you turn around. “Fine if you want to talk via phone, fine.” Walking away from her door into the living room, you pick up your phone from the coffee table. To your surprise it's not her name across the screen, but Sam’s. “What?” you bark out in frustration, not really wanting to talk with him right now. 

“Dean, back off.” Sam says matter of factly. No pleasantries, just straight to the point. 

“She called you? Why?” Confused as to why she is including Sam on this.

“She just needs some space, Dean, I think it's time you come back. Jody called and…” Sam calmly says, trying his best to diffuse the situation from the other side of the country. 

“No, Sam, I am not leaving her! I can’t lose her again, I won’t… I love her, man…”

Your back is to the hallway, so you don’t notice Y/N standing there, listening, hearing  what you should be confessing to her and not your brother. You don’t see her wondering why can’t you just say what you feel? Why can’t you just let down your guard with her and tell her?

*****

The slamming of a trunk pulls Dean back to the present, and he looks up to see you carrying an arm load of groceries. Of course you would do it in one trip. He shakes his head, remembering that you never like to take more than one trip from the car to the house. Your logic always being, as you told him, I am a single girl, I can do it in one go. He watched as you held the screen door open with your butt, as you switched all the bags to one arm so you could open the door with the other. Looking away once you're inside, Dean notices it’s about 20 minutes since you pulled in the driveway. Had you been sitting there this whole time? You have only gone to the hospital and store, but still your energy must not be back to what it used to be. 

Maybe he should check, make sure you're doing okay. Look in the window really quick. Getting out of the car and walking the short distance, he looks over to your car to see that you still had some toilet paper and paper towels in the back seat. Knowing that you would be back, he decides to help you out. Opening up the door as quietly as possible he grabs the items, and takes them up to the door. Putting them in between the screen door and main door, he turns around to leave.

His eyes look in the kitchen window, to see you putting away your items. Your back is to him, so you don’t notice. You seem lost in your own world, on auto pilot putting things away. Dean takes a moment to appreciate that he can see you up close. His eyes scan the room, noticing the post-it notes all over. He never remembers you having so many of them before. He can’t read what they say, but they are everywhere; on the cabinets, counter tops, table, Was your memory getting worse? 

Panic, and anger - at himself more than anything -  sets in.

*******

Y/N POV

“I love her Sam, I am in love with her…I can’t…no I won’t lose her, I need to tell her how I feel…”

“You don’t love me, Winchester” your voice stops Dean from rambling on the lies that you know, in the end, he doesn’t mean.

Dean turns to see you standing there, your eyes red from crying. But you're not crying now; no, now you  look  pissed, like you want to kick some ass - and Dean’s is the closest one. “Got to go Sam.” Dean quickly says, ending the call. “What do you mean I don’t love you. Of course I do, I….”

You hold up a hand, and stop Dean from saying anything more. “No, you don’t. People like me, we don’t have sexy knights to save us. To fall in love with us, to whisk us away, and want to play house with.” Determine to get this all out, to get your point across and make him accept reality. 

“We are your best friend, the girl you call on Friday nights when your date falls through, or you strike out with the bartender. We are your ‘wing woman’, we pick you up, dust you off, and send you back out into the world. We build your confidence up, while we sit on the sidelines alone.”

“Y/N that's not true…” Dean starts to protest.

“Let me finish, I have to get this out.” taking a breath, you can see he’s hurt, that he wants to argue, to explain his side. “Yes, you care for me, but you don’t love me, and you're not In love with me. You're in love with this idea of a life outside of hunting, you love the idea of playing house.” Closing the gap between you, even though you know better than to get  this close to him. You're playing with fire, but you're desperate to feel him. 

“You're right, I am in love with the idea of an apple pie life. But I want that life with you, no one else.” Dean interjects before you can shut him down, shut down what is going on between you two before it can even start. 

Taking a chance, he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest and places it over his heart. “Can’t you feel my heart? It’s racing for you. It always has, it always will.”

 Feeling the softness of the white t-shirt between your fingers, you take a breath and inhale the smell of him. “Sooner or later we both know this won’t be enough, that I won’t be enough.” You talk to his chest, not wanting or able to look him in the eye, your voice low and shaky. “You're going to leave me, sideline me, and only blow through town when you need something.”

“That's not true! You have always wanted your own life. I always wanted to protect you as much as I could. The things that Sam and I deal with, the people and monsters we hunt, if anything ever happens…you are a vulnerability that they will exploit. I know it.” 

“Maybe. Even more reason why you have to go…and never come back…” Glancing up to see the gut punch you just delivered written on his face. You try to take a step back.

Dean won’t let you go, bringing a hand around your waist, holding you. “What?! No! I won’t cut you out of my life. I now know I was stupid for ever doing that. For letting you live alone, or at the very least, not in the same state as the bunker.” He practically commands, with no hesitation. How could you think he would ever agree to this?   

“Y/N, I need you in my life. You can’t deny that there is something between us.” His words are sweet, his voice is low as he leans into you. His breath fans over your face, as his hands caress your cheek. “Please, I need you.” 

His lips are so close to yours, that if you lean ever so slightly, you would finally know how soft his lips are. Would they fulfill your fantasies? God, maybe you should live in this fantasy for as long as you can, screw being logical. Let it be a future Y/N problem, present Y/N wants to know what it's like to be wanted by Dean Winchester. “I…Dean…”

*******

 Y/N and Dean POV 

“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice pulls him from the memory of that night, and he looks to see you standing at the door, one hand holding open the screen door. 

Oh fuck, well, this wasn’t the plan at all. Giving her a smile, “Hey Y/N, I was in the neighborhood…thought I would…”

“So you're stalking me now?”

“Hehe, no, I said I was in the neighborhood, wanted to see how you are…you look good.” He says, letting his eyes look at you. You did look good, but tired, your eyes didn’t shine like they normally did before; the spark, the hint of twinkle is gone.

“Liar, I look like shit, but thanks.” You quip, knowing that you don’t look good at all. Wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans, you opted for comfort over trying to impress anyone. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” You say, giving him a fake smile and turning to walk back in the house. 

“Umm…Y/N, I could, I mean Sam could use your help with something, he knew I was going to be passing through and wanted me to stop by and ask for some help.” Quickly thinking on his feet, he creates an excuse. He didn’t want to leave yet, this is the most he has talked to you since that night. He would be damned if he was going to let you leave so soon. 

You turn back to look at Dean, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Sam had your number, and you were still speaking to the younger Winchester - he didn’t break your heart and live up to everything you knew would happen. “Why didn’t he call me?” You question, wanting to make Dean work for it. He wasn’t getting in that easy!

He takes a few steps towards you, “well, like I said, he knew I was in the area.” One step lower from you, his green eyes lock with yours, silently pleading with you to let him in. “He wanted me to pick up a lore book on Pixies, and said you had a copy that we don't have in the library.”

“Fine, come in. I will go grab it.” You reply, turning away from him, letting him catch the door before it slams in his face. 

Dean shucks off his jacket and boots, and looks around while you go back to find the book. He can now see the post-its in detail, reminding you where your keys, jacket, bag should be put. Making his way to the kitchen, cabinets are labeled with what should be in them: dry food, dishes, silverware. Daily schedule on the fridge. “Having fun snooping?” Your sarcastic tone has him turning on his heels to see you standing in the doorway with a book in hand. 

“Umm…sorry…” he says sheepishly, hating  that he got caught. He can see you're not amused, and he is really going to have to lay on the charm to win you back. 

“Yeah, well at least I am keeping the post-it company in business. Here is the book.” You say handing it to him.

Dean takes it, and looks at it, giving it a nod, “Thanks, yep this is it.” 

“Okay, well, you better get going, since Sam is in ‘desperate’ need of it and all.” Your voice is flat, not in the mood to deal with him. “You know where the door is.” You add, just turning that knife even deeper. 

“Look, Y/N can we talk?” Dean can tell you're not your usual self, and he really wants to get you back.

“Oh now you want to talk? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk for four months. Didn’t want to talk when you woke up the next morning regretting that kiss, regretting what we said to each other, the promises you made.” You snap at him, the frustration building in you. Why does it always have to be on his time? God you were just getting over him, right?

“I know. I was a jerk, it was a dick move, and I am sorry.”

“You're sorry, really?That's all you have to say?” Turning away from him, just looking at him and his sad puppy dog face, you want to smack him. Fuck, you want to hit yourself for being an idiot that night. 

******

“Dean…please…I…” You have to keep strong, tell him to go, you know this won’t end well.

“Please Y/N, You're the only good thing I have in this world, I can’t lose you.” Not waiting for a reply, his lips find yours. 

They're soft, perfect, molded to fit yours, and gentle, Dean doesn’t force his way. Pulling away, when your lungs start to burn,you lock eyes with him. Lust blown, his lips slightly pink. No words are exchanged, you silently say everything you need to him at that moment, and he seems to understand. Bringing his hands to cup your face, he goes back in to kiss you more, letting his tongue swipe across your lips. You allow his tongue to dance with yours. 

Fumbling your way to the couch, Dean falls back first, and you do your best not to land on top of him completely, giggling at the state you're both in. Dean looks up at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, and looking up at you lovingly, “God, I love that laugh of yours.” He says, pulling you down on him. Letting you feel what you're doing to him. 

“Dean, I have to be crushing you.” You protest, trying your best but failing at getting out of the vice grip Dean has on your hips. 

“Nope, You're staying right here.” He says, as he starts to pepper kisses down your neck. 

******

“Dean, I begged you to leave! I knew you never wanted me! And yet like an idiot, I fell for your charm and under your spell.” You grit out, turning on your heels and walking away from him. Fuck, you can’t keep doing this! 

“I did ... .I do ...Y/N look at me” Dean pleads, setting the book down he follows you to the living room, grabbing your hand. “Please, let me explain.”

Turning around, you pull your hand back. His touch, like fire, like touching a hot pan. “You know, I thought for a split second you were telling me the truth. That you wanted me like I have always wanted you.” Pain radiates through you, your voice seems to be stuck behind a lump forming in your throat. God, you want to smack him, but at the same time, kiss him.

Dean’s speechless, trying to work out how best to tell you what he was thinking in that split second when he woke up in your arms that day. For one second he felt total bliss, that everything was falling into place; then reality of his life came back into focus.

“I know, it wasn’t my finest hour.”

You laugh at this, you think!? “What is there to explain? We kissed, had a pretty good makeout, groped each other over and under our clothes, but then we both agreed to take it slow. Right?” You ask for confirmation, even though you remember it all too well.

“Yes, but, Y/N, if you just let me…” Dean stumbles to explain.

“But then, I wake up the next morning alone on the couch with a note that says, ‘Hey, Y/N, Sorry, Sammy needs me, will check in soon.’”

The space between you two is nonexistent. You're trying to find anything in those green eyes of his that will refute anything you just said. Anything to explain that you're overreacting, but there is nothing. He has no rebuttal, because it's all true. He walked out on you, like his father did to him and Sam all the time. The worst part was, Dean had Sam to lean on; you were left with no one.

“Like I said, not my finest hour…” he mumbles out.

“Not your goddamn finest hour?ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you yell, slamming your fists into his chest and pushing him away.  It does nothing to move him, and takes all your energy out of you. You stumble a bit, then lean back and sit on the arm of the couch.

“Hey, Y/N, please, calm down.'' His voice is heavy with concern, and he tries to help you up so you can sit on the couch.

“Don’t…touch…me…” You cough out. Needing water, you look to find your water bottle is nowhere. “Fuck….I…” You keep coughing, and try to get up.

“Water?” Dean questions. You nod, and try to get back up. “No, sit, I will go get it.” He tells you and quickly goes to the kitchen, and is back with a glass of water in seconds.

You down about half, the cool water helps calm you and your coughing fits. “Thanks” you mumble, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he ‘saved you again.’ You don’t look at him as you sit down the glass and avoid him at all costs.

Dean takes this as his opportunity to tell you his side. Sitting on the coffee table so he has direct eye contact with you, he reaches for your hand. “Please, Y/N, I am truly sorry. I know I was a jerk for leaving you like that, and for never calling or coming back.”

You stare him down, not  giving him an out on this one. “Go on. You will hear no objection from me on this one.” You reply.

Dean lets out a small sigh that clearly said fuck, alright here we go. “I was fucking scared, okay? I woke up, saw you in my arms, and for a split second I felt like I was home. My first thought was, this is perfection. No monster, no running the roads, crappy dinner food, and sketchy motels.” 

He leans towards you, putting a hand on your knee, and lightly runs his hands up and gives you a knowing smile. “The perfect, sexy, beautiful, girl in my arms, that I can’t wait to wake up and…”

You stop his hand from getting too close to what both you and him want to touch. “Not so fast  Winchester.” Knowing if he keeps going, you are definitely going to end up in a very compromising position. “No, I bet your first thought was, oh fuck what the hell did I do, and how the hell do I get out of it.”

“No, will you let me talk?. God, I see COVID can take your memory, but not your self-hatred or inability to butt in.” 

You hold your hands up in a fake defense, “Please go on.” You quip back, leaning back into the couch. 

Dean shakes his head, at least you’re sassing back, that is a good sign. “I got up, was going to start coffee for us, and while I was in the kitchen, Sam did call…

*******

“Hey Sammy,”

“How’s everything Dean, you kinda left me hanging? Did you and Y/N talk?” Sam asks, feeling like a schoolgirl catching up on the latest gossip between you too.

Dean takes a quick peek into the living room to make sure you're still asleep. “Yeah, everything is good. We talked and I think we are going to take things slow.” Dean explains, as he starts to make the coffee, he recounts most of the conversation between you two. Not all the details though, he wants to keep the really good stuff just for him. 

Sam lets out a sigh, “That's good, I am happy for you both. But now I hate to ask.”

“What is it?”

“Look, I know you still want to take some time, until Y/N is fully healed, but Jody could really use your help. There is something in South Dakota that is running amuck, and she’s worried that Claire is going to try and tackle it herself.”

Oh Claire, how she reminds Dean of himself sometimes, headstrong and just ready to fight anything that wasn’t human. She is a good hunter, but she is young. “Umm…yeah…I am sure I can make something work….”

“Thanks Dean, I am sure it will only be a day or two, and then you can get back to Y/N. I will call Jody and tell her to expect you.” Sam says.

Saying their goodbyes, Dean hangs up the phone, and has to hold back from throwing it across the room in anger. Fuck! Not two seconds, and he’s already been pulled back into the madness. How is he going to explain this to her? She won’t believe him, she will be heartbroken again, think it's her fault, and say that she told him. 

Seeing no other solution - or maybe it was that he didn’t want to wake you and see that pain in your eyes - he takes the cowardly way out. 

*****

“So you went to help Jody, a friend of mine. And didn’t think I would understand?” You question him, after he explains the conversation between him and Sam. 

“Yes…I guess I figure you would just see it as an excuse I came up with to leave you. Which it wasn’t, by the way.”

“But you said you would call, check in. But you didn’t! You couldn’t have been helping Jody this whole time? And even if you were, could you still have called!”

“I wanted to, but as I was driving away, I kept thinking about what you said, that you felt like an afterthought, that I blow through town whenever I need you. Take what I need and leave you with nothing.”

“So you figure, prove me right by ghosting me? Well, thanks Winchester, real fun.” You spit sarcastically, giving his knee a not-so-playful slap and getting up from the couch. “The door is still where you left it, you can see yourself out.” Fucking asshole. I need to get those locks changed tomorrow. You think, making your way to the kitchen to get some more water, to do anything but sit there and keep listening to him.

“Y/N, please. I am sorry, you're not an afterthought. The more that I kept driving, and the longer I pushed off calling you, it made it harder to call you. Because I knew as soon as I did I would lose you.”

“Funny, because the second you left, you lost me Dean. God, I woke up that morning and was devastated. Do you know how much I hate feeling like that?” Not needing him to answer, you lean up against the counter crossing your arms around yourself. Feeling the tears start to fall, you might as well go all the way. 

“You know, I never wanted to be that girl, who cried over a guy, who refused to do anything but sleep on that goddamn couch for two months because it was the last place I felt safe, and whole, and seen. I could still smell you on the pillows and blanket.” 

Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face. Taking another ragged breath, you work up the courage to tell him what you know he should know, but that you're scared to say out loud. “But the thing I hate the most, the one thing that makes me want to scream…is that I still love you.” You laugh at this. Its fucking absurd. Trying your best  to stifle your laughter, but it keeps bubbling out of you in frustration and disbelief 

Dean’s not sure how to react. On the one hand, you say that you still love him, but on the other hand your laughing like the fucking Joker. “Being in love with me is…funny?” he tentatively asks. Taking a few steps towards you, but not closing the distance. 

Wiping the tears from your face, you admit quietly, “yes, because I know, no matter what, I will always let you back in. I guess I am just a masochist that way. I would rather have you in my life, and be heartbroken, than to not have you and still be heartbroken.”

Shaking your head, in disbelief that you actually said those words out loud, and to Dean no less. You look up to see him watching you, waiting. “God I am pathetic…you really should not have saved me that night…” you mumble the last part to yourself. Pushing yourself off the counter, you turn away from him, to straighten up the non-existent mess on the counter. Shit, should not have said that. 

“GOD DAMN IT Y/N!” Dean’s yell booms, causing you to turn around to see Dean seething with rage.    Taking the last few steps towards you, he pulls you into a vice grip of a hold. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me? Do you?” He commands, shaking with hurt and pain. 

He’s not angry at you, he's angry that you don’t understand how much you mean to him. That you hold your life as something subpar. Pulling away slightly, he lets go so he can hold your face in his hands. “Please don’t ever think or say that I shouldn’t have saved you that night.” His green eyes, glassy with tears about to be shed, bore into yours. “You are the only good thing in my life, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain your trust back, and that my life is messy and chaotic, but please…please….don’t ever think I would regret saving you that night.”

You nod your head in response. “Okay” you whisper, “I promise.” You were taken aback by his outburst; Dean has never raised his voice to you, or looked this broken. Then again, you’ve never been this broken, or joked about that night before either. It was a topic that neither of you ever really discussed, more of an unspoken bond between you two.

Relief seems to wash over him. His hands fall from your face, his arms wrapping them around your waist, not wanting to leave the closeness of you. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and this may be pushing my luck. But can I kiss you?” Giving you a half smile, hoping that will seal the deal.

“Fuck, there’s that Winchester charm,” you joke, smirking as well. Screw it, it's been four months without those lips. You lean in and kiss him. Letting your lips dance with his for a bit, you pull back, “just as good and I remember.” you say cheekily.

“So, should we go make some new memories on that couch of yours?” Dean gives you a wink, walking backwards towards the living room, his arms still around yours.

You have no choice but to follow him, nodding. You know that you have a lot of work to do getting over your own insecurities and self doubt that Dean will get tired of you, or that he will regret being with you. You need to have faith in him, and in yourself, that you are worthy of a happy life with him; whatever that looks like.

[thatsprettylane]

I think it’s important to have crushes on less than perfect looking people. To see someone who’s a little bit ugly and be absolutely smitten, to be charmed by the strange as well as the beautiful. To nod at beauty standards and then pull out your bucket of weird little men and women with big noses and various freaks and say, “I also think these belong on the list”.

[alwayshinny]

Hinny ♥️ - The Chronicles of Harry J. Potter's mind

She's Ron's little sister 😡

She's Ron's sister.😠

She's Ron's... 🫤

She's... 😵‍💫

She's so beautiful. 😍

Shit, she's looking my way. WAIT. DID SHE JUST WINK AT ME? 😳

Stop staring. Look somewhere else. Fuck, I think Dean noticed... Awkward... 😬

Okay, try to act cool. Stand against the wall, cross you arms, and look nonchalant, like you don't care. 😎

*stubbles with hand placement and footing* 🫨

Ginny: "Hi Harry"

tries to cover his dopey smile but ends up swooning instead. 🥴

[jdmorganz]

THE WALKING DEAD: DEAD CITY S01E03 - People Are a Resource

[exdeputysonso]

Wise Blood (1979) Press Photos

[transthatmasc]

AU picture of Castiel in one of those pairs of little kid elastic strap fairy wings— like the sparkly kind — with Claire in a matching set with the biggest smile on her face

[coleydc58]

I am utterly lost. And delighted.

January 4, 2025

[getting-grimey]

Jeffrey Dean Morgan attends the AMC Networks' 2023 Upfront.

[forthecriminallyinsane]

I am telling you this now, because...I always wondered, ever since… I wondered what it could be, what-what MY true happiness could even look like. I never found an answer. Because the one thing I want..it's something I know I can't have.

But I think I know-I think I know now: happiness isn't in the having. It's in just being. It's in just saying it. I'm saying, I know.

I know how you see yourself. You see yourself the same way our enemies see you. You're destructive and you're angry and you're broken. You're You're "Daddy's Blunt Instrument". And you think that hate and anger, that's-that's what drives you. That's who you are.

It's not. And everyone who knows you sees it. Everything you have ever done, the good and the bad, you have done for love.

You raised your little brother for love. You fought for this whole world for love. That is who you are.

You're the most caring man on Earth. You are the most selfless, LOVING human being I will ever know.

You know, ever since we met and ever since you pulled me out of Hell, knowing you has changed me. Because you cared, I cared. I cared about you. I cared about the whole world because of you. You changed me.

I love you.

@godmademelookgay

[omnis-immundus-spiritus]

my sister is a makeup artist for music videos and films, and a director was like "can you make our lead actor CW Channel Handsome?" and you know who was in that man's moodboards. Can you guess.

[claymoresofinfamy23]

Good afternoon tumblr! I thought I’d grace your dash with the cutest Dean Winchester photo I have ever seen

I think the owner is here on tumblr, so credit to them, but ahhhhh he looks so damn cute!!!

Tag squad! (Lmk if you wanna be added or removed)

@claymorexpunisher @deanwinchesterdaily @supernaturaldaily @ghostsam

[twisted-ivy]

The lips, the teeth, the tongue… I really don’t need to say anything else 🫠

[of-fandoms]

you mean to tell me people choose their favorite character based on how attracted they are to them? not because they feel kinda connected to them due to similar experiences and/or actions? or just because they think the character is the most interesting out of the bunch?

actually insane

[offorester]

[coleydc58]

A co-worker sent me an email including this image. "Pretend I bought this for you," she said. I am adrift, bereft without the glut of constant publicity that was present a year ago. My adult side is blissful and happy that those creative ones have a rest period. My inner teenager is going through withdrawal.

[bettystonewell]

Dean in a tux for starters ❤️ But then you’ve got him referencing the movies and still bringing his charm even as a teen. He’s corny, and he’s cheesy and you’ve just captured him perfectly for me. You now what I want though, as always, I need more!! Although you know, maybe this is the reader from your Xmas stories?? Hmmm. Yep. That’s my head canon now, and this is how they started ❤️

Just like the movies.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Based off of the Imagine: Dean taking you to prom.

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: Cuteness overload, sweet young!Dean, so much FLUFF!!!

Song Inspo: Fade into you - Mazzy Star

AN: Just something that came to me and for the fact i wish Dean got to experience some normalcy in his life. 🥲😭 Also for the sake of this fic the reader is Bobby’s daughter… I hope you enjoy 💕

Masterlist

You stood in front of your floor-length mirror, repeatedly smoothing your hands over the invisible wrinkles in your dress, examining your lightly curled hair and the little makeup you’d applied with a scrutinising eye and a nervous pulse in your chest. 

You looked okay, right? Nice? 

Your pink-beige dress sat strapless on your chest, cinched complimentary at your waist, and floated softly at your ankles. It wasn’t anything expensive; in fact, you’d felt a little embarrassed when you purchased it from a thrift store, eyeing solemnly as some of the girls in your year confidently walked into the classy boutique across the street.

It wasn’t like prom was a huge deal to you. To be honest, you hadn’t even planned on going at all. Although you attended high school, your heart was never fully in it. How could it be when your life outside of it was a living nightmare? Being the daughter of a hunter, you knew and had seen things only the kids in your school had watched in the movies. Because of this, you could never truly fit in, never speak of this heavy weight on your shoulders to anybody, and be believed or not called “crazy” or a “freak”.

The only person you could talk to about it was your best friend, and that’s because he’d grown up in the life too. However, he only came to stay with you and Bobby twice, maybe three times, out of the year. Ironically, he was also the person who had convinced you to go to this stupid dance too. He’d only attended the last few weeks of school and already had the place swooning. Guys wanted to be him, and girls wanted to date him. Which is why you had been taken by surprise when he’d asked you to prom. 

At first you thought he was joking; you knew he’d had a load of offers already from much more capable candidates, but when he told you he’d turned them down, you then thought he was just being nice because no one had asked you, which bothered you more somehow. A pity ask was worse than not being asked at all. But then you remembered Dean would never be so cruel; he was genuine and kind and had been your best friend for years. His ask was bonafide, and it terrified you. 

You’d never had the opportunity, or at least the untainted desire, to be like all the other girls. It was just mentally impossible. Knowing what you knew, boys, proms, and which skirt went with which shirt were all a farce in comparison to what was really out there. 

But because you were still a teenager and not a robot with no emotions, and maybe due to the devastating fact you had developed a teeny tiny crush on your best friend, you had said yes, and now here you were. 

Dean had wanted to do it all properly too, and even though he was technically staying with you at Bobby’s, he’d left the house and given you a time of 6 o’clock to be ready by. He was a dork, but a sweet one at that, and a part of you believed even he wanted to experience some normality for once.

You heard the knock at the door from your room upstairs, and your pulse quickened and hands grew clammy. Not long after was the call of your name from your father, and you took one last look, deeming yourself presentable enough; Dean had seen you in much worse conditions, and you made your way to the stairs. 

You could hear Dean and Bobby’s muffled voices below, as well as Sam’s, chiming in every now and then. Of course John was absent; he dropped the boys off and would disappear for days, weeks, like he had done this time, at a time leaving it up to you and Bobby to entertain them. Not that you minded, of course; you loved the two brothers like they were family. 

With one last deep breath, you took your first steps. The sound of your heels clicking loud enough against the wood to draw the attention of the three of them. Sam’s smile was instantaneous, whilst Bobby and Dean looked on in shocked surprise. You could detect a glimmer of pride in your father’s unusually watery eyes as you made your descent, yet Dean remained motionless, almost in a trance-like state. It made you nervous. Did he think you looked ridiculous? He was only accustomed to seeing you dressed as your usual rugged, rural-looking self. 

Though you could say the same for yourself. Dean was dressed in a simple black tux, but it fit him like a glove. He’d even gelled his hair to the side, accentuating this more dapper appearance. He looked amazing. Handsome.

“Y/N, you look stunning darlin’.” Bobby said once you reached the bottom step, his voice cracking with emotion. Dean still stood unblinking just behind. 

“Don’t tell me you’re getting all soppy on me now, old man.” You teased, but your heart was swimming with warmth at his words. He huffed out a chuckle and shook his head, but you took his hand in yours and settled him with a grateful look. Not only for his words but for him allowing you this. 

“You look amazing.” Came Sam’s response as he stepped up beside Bobby. You were beginning to get a little flustered at all of the attention and compliments, not used to receiving so many in the space of a few minutes. 

“Thank you, Sammy.” You ruffled his hair, to which he batted your hand away with a grumpy frown. It was still crazy to you that he was almost at eye level with you now, despite being 4 years your senior. Then the clearing of another throat had you looking in their direction. Ah, he was alive. 

“Wow. I mean. You look beautiful.” Dean finally stumbled out a little breathless. You felt your cheeks flame and prayed to God it wasn’t too noticeable. You bit your lip and ducked your head shyly, but also covertly to stop yourself from smiling so wide. 

Bobby gave Dean a pointed nudge, eying the corsage he’d purchased whilst you got ready, subtly hinting at him to give it to you. Dean’s eyes widened briefly, and then he took a step closer to you, making you look up. 

“I got you this.” He began and pulled the beautiful, pale pink flower, similar in colour to your dress, from its packaging, and your heart skipped. “It’s tradition, right?” He chuckled. “At least it’s what they do in the movies.” He mumbled, more so to you, and you giggled as he smoothly slipped it on your wrist. 

You admired it for a moment before looking back at him. “Thank you, it’s perfect.” Your words seemed to appease him, as the smile he gave you was dashing. 

“Alright, you two.” Bobby announced, forcing you to look over at him. “I’m not really worried about a curfew. I know you two are smart and wouldn’t do anything stupid.” He pointedly looks at Dean when he says that part, more so as a warning. “But be careful and, more importantly, have fun.” Now that was aimed at you. 

You and Dean both nod before you give Bobby a hug and Sam another teasing ruffle of his hair. 

“C’mon!” You hear him whine as you turn and make your way with Dean outside. Thankfully, he helps guide you in your heels with a hand on the small of your back as you walk the short distance across the rocky gravel toward Bobby’s car. 

“Ah! Allow me.” He intercepts your attempt to open the passenger side door, his voice mockingly posh as he gives you a curtsey and an amused grin. You can’t help but laugh and echo him before you slip inside, mindful to tuck your dress in before he closes the door for you as well. 

He’s quick to round the bonnet and slide in behind the wheel. When he looks over at you, his eyes are alight and shining with something you can’t decipher. But it warms you in a way you’ve tried so hard to ignore. 

“You ready?” 

“Let’s do this, Winchester.” Your grin mirrored his, and no sooner was he putting the car in drive and peeling out of the driveway. 

Despite your initial nerves upon arrival, the idea of seeing your peers, and them seeing you with one of the most sought-after boys in school, was terrifying in itself. Yet, Dean had quickly made you forget all about them and instead you found yourself actually enjoying the night. 

You’d danced until your feet were sore and laughed until your stomachs hurt, all the while forgetting your individual demons and the dark reality that awaited you beyond the doors of the gymnasium. For a moment, you were just a teenager attending your senior prom with the boy you liked. Even if he didn’t know that. 

The lights in the room suddenly dimmed as a slower song echoed from the DJ set up on the stage. So far it had been mostly the pop hits of your generation, along with some 80’s throwbacks thrown in there, meaning there was minimal touching between you and the green eyed boy. Just wacky dance moves that had sure given you some odd looks and disapproving stares. Not that you took any notice. 

However, assuming Dean had had his fill, you made a move to sit back at the table you’d commandeered at the beginning of the night, only to be stopped by his hand on yours. 

“Where you goin’?” Dean asked with a glint in his eye and a teasing smile on his lips. You fumbled slightly with your words, the look in his eye intense as he watched you, having your stomach doing somersaults and your heart fluttering uncomfortably. 

“I didn’t think… It’s a slow one. Kinda boring.” You pointed out with a nervous chuckle, as if that were obvious. 

“Maybe so. But don’t I at least get one slow dance at my prom with my date?” He raised a brow, his expression serious. You gaped at him dumbly for a moment before a giggle bubbled in your chest. 

“Dean, you barely attended a full two weeks, and you hated this school. What’s gotten you so dedicated to its traditions?” You teased, and then, with a gasp of surprise, you were suddenly twirled into his arms. You were toe to toe, faces inches apart as you slowly looked up into his eyes. You felt the warmth of his hand spread across your lower back, your own instinctively gripping onto his shoulder as his left hand remained clasped in yours off to the side. 

“What?” He questions your shocked expression and leans in close, his lips beside your ear. “Just doing what they do in the movies.” Dean mumbles with a smile in his voice, and you bite your lip at the scent of his cheap cologne, which somehow works with his own musk, invading your senses. His closeness releasing a swarm of butterflies of nerves and excitement. 

“Just like the movies.” You repeat as you pull back to look at him. He smiles down at you, not teasingly so, and void of any humour. It’s soft and warm as he begins to gently rock the two of you in time with the gentle melody of Fade into You. You feel your cheeks burn at the intensity in his eyes, wondering if he felt it too. The spark of electricity conducting through his touch, the buzzing in your mind anytime he was close, and the flutter in your chest whenever your eyes connected. 

You decided to ignore the warnings in your mind, the protector of your heart, and the insecurities battling to take over. Instead, you slid both of your hands around his neck, stepping impossibly close, the subtle action not lost on him as he rested both hands on your waist, guiding you into a slow circle on the dance floor.

When you looked into his eyes, you saw adoration, but you also saw conflict, a brief moment of uncertainty flickering in his jaded eyes before he defeated his inner battle and slowly leaned down to press his lips to yours. 

Your eyes widened in surprise at the initial contact but were quick to flutter shut at the softness caressing your own, slowly, experimentally, as if this had been something he’d wanted to do for a very long time. Everything around you seemed to disappear, fading into a blur of stillness, leaving just you and him in a moment you knew you would treasure forever. 

When he pulled away, his cheeks were slightly pink and pupils blown, eyes filling with doubt and apology.” I'm sorry.” He worried, seemingly shocked by his own actions, and you shook your head in dismissal, your grin unstoppable as it spread across your lips.” 

“Don’t be.” You told him and watched as he relaxed a little. “Just like the movies.” You whispered, and the two of you lit up with laughter, only to come back together in the sweet moment of something unspoken but with a mutual understanding.

AN: I hope you guys enjoyed this one, just a little something sweet for the end of the week lol 😅 Let me know what y'all think?