#dean winchester x

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

A Shirtless Winchester

Pairing: Dean x reader

________

“Uh.” You stopped halfway into your bedroom, towel tucked under your arm around your bare body, messy damp hair down your back. You blinked, meeting a cheeky smile in return. 

Dean Winchester was on your bed, laying back, reading the romance book from your nightstand.

A very shirtless Dean Winchester.

“W-What are you doing in here? On my bed?”

“Waiting for you. For a book with such a cute cover they sure do some depraved things in this,” he hummed. You looked around and back into the hall, shaking your head. “You want to make out?”

“What?!”

“Do you want to make out?”

You stared at him, Dean putting the book down and walking over to you, tucking a finger under your chin so you looked into his eyes.

“Well?”

You inhaled and dropped your towel, Dean not breaking eye contact.

“Did that answer your question?” you said.

“It did. Posed another one though.”

“I bet it did,” you said, pushing on his chest, walking him back until he lay back on the bed. “I’m gonna close that door and by the time I turn around, those pants better be gone.”

“Or what?” he smirked as you already turned back towards the doorframe.

“You’ll see, Winchester. You’ll see.”

______

[deanbrainrotwritings]

—  i hate buffering

SUMMARY : “hey hi, could you do an imagine with Dean who is dyslexic or dyscalcic? Please I would really care <3” — anon

PAIRING :  dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), fluff

WORD COUNT : 826

A/N : title from a the devil wears prada song. ah, an imagine. I actually don’t know what the hell I'm doing, but I loved this as I started reading a Stephen King book in the semi-darkness and I kept reading words wrong and thinking about how difficult it would be to be dyslexic.

Dean heard your adorable giggle before he heard your footsteps coming closer to his bedroom. 

This new, long-term dating thing made his heart skip a few beats.

You were cute and compassionate, mostly, but there was so much to you than just that. The longer he spent getting to know you, the more you seemed to unexpectedly expose parts of yourself, like heated kernels turning to popcorn. 

He stopped cleaning the stuff in his bedside table’s drawer to watch you with a dimpled smile. He sat on the bed and you finally showed him what you were shyly hiding behind your back.

He blinked a few times, willing his brain to focus on the yellow sticky note and your pretty handwriting. He glanced up at you, your expectant gaze, the flush on your cheeks. Embarrassment flared up his neck and he panicked.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he blurted out. You tilted your head at him as your brows twitched and your smile faded into confusion. “I'm tired, I can’t focus,” he lied, rubbing his eyes.

You thought it odd, but shrugged it off anyway.

“Oh, that’s fine,” you smiled, “it says: show me your tits, cowboy.” Dean laughed softly and you slapped the sticky note on the wall above his bed as you climbed into his lap. He instantly grabbed your waist and slowly slid his hands down to your ass. “But if you’re tired, we can just sleep… after you finish cleaning this up.” You dipped down to kiss his forehead, but he searched for your lips for a real kiss that made you warm all over. 

One of his hands slowly moved up your back until he cupped the back of your head to deepen the kiss. Before you knew it, he had you laying down on his bed and impatiently moved between your legs to kiss you harder.

You laughed against his lips and moved up the bed, never breaking the kiss until your head was properly pressed into his soft pillow. His warm, calloused hand sneaked up into your tank top, slowly lifting it, distracting you by licking into your mouth.  

His soft tongue played with yours and he gently squeezed your breast, causing your breath to hitch. He pulled away with a smirk that made you feel hotter. He removed his hand from your warm flesh to kiss down your neck and your hands moved into his soft hair. His soft lips pressed and brushed teasingly against your skin, and his careful teeth grazed your sensitive flesh. He gently pulled down the strap of your top and followed the thin strip before moving to kiss your cleavage instead.

“Fuck,” you whispered impatiently, but let him do things his way despite the fire you felt on your skin from his touch and his kiss. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered warmly against your skin. You smiled and hummed softly, watching him with his greedy eyes while he grabbed a handful of your ass and slipped his hand underneath your shorts. 

“You're not wearing underwear.” His voice was low and deep, and all you could do was bite down on your lips while he licked his own and just watched you hungrily. Your heart was in a frenzy and your mind was clouded with incoherent thoughts of him. Naked.

“I pretty much told you I came here for sex, but cuddling is an option if you’re tired.” He slid his hand out from under your shorts, moved back up to peck your lips before smiling down at you cheekily. You pressed your lips together shyly and lowered your hands to his broad shoulders. 

“Can I tell you something?” He asked suddenly, pressing his lower body against yours and gently leaned on his side with his arm beside you. You tried to ignore the sensation of his body being all over your and lovingly cupped his cheek.

“You can tell me anything.” 

He inhaled and looked away from you slightly. “I’m dyslexic. I couldn’t really read your note.”

You almost blurted out really? without thinking, but this is Dean. He wouldn’t say that if he wasn’t completely sure about it. Your smile softened and he chewed on his lip for a few seconds before trying to cover it up with a seductive lick of his lips and a quick glance at yours as an escape for his confession. 

“That must make all this hunting research very difficult for you,” you considered thoughtfully. He kissed you softly to interrupt your thoughts. 

“It does…” he mumbled against your mouth and rocked his hips gently against your core. Your breath got caught in your chest.

“You’re still very good at it,” you reassured him breathlessly and grabbed at his shirt to tug it up and off his flushed body. He hummed appreciatively against your lips. “Thanks for telling me,” you murmured, teasingly nipping at his lip when he started pulling away to remove his shirt.

“Thanks for being you.” 

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[winchester-girl67]

Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort

Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon. 

Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"

Pairing: Dean x reader 

Word Count: 902 

Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff 

A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy. 

_____

“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!” 

Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door. 

You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed. 

The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse. 

You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again. 

You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt. 

First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home. 

Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest. 

It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture. 

Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.

You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left. 

Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow. 

Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been. 

"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features. 

His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. 

"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled." 

"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door." 

You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you. 

He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to. 

You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax. 

"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little. 

You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest. 

"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours. 

Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon. 

There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy. 

Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark. 

He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together. 

And maybe you could both finally get some sleep. 

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy

SPN: @hobby27

[castiwls]

dress - s.w

Paring; sam x reader

Prompt; 'Our secret moments in a crowded room. They got no idea about me and you'

Requested; anonymous

Notes;tysm for the request <3 they might be a bit slower over the next few weeks but they are coming :)

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

The sound of music thumped softly through the bar as the sound of laughter drifted through your ears. Your friends happily conversed between themselves as you continued to nurse your second drink of the night. It wasn’t often you found yourself in the company of so many of your friends at once but now that finals were over you’d all found yourselves finally free.

“You okay?” A hand squeezed yours under the table pulling your attention to the person beside you. You smiled squeezing Sam’s hand back. “I’m fine.” You leaned forward slightly lowering your voice. He smiled back before moving his hand to rub small circles on your thigh.

This thing between you both was new. You’d told yourself that you would wait until you’d finished college before you got involved with someone but all that had been thrown out the window the minute you’d met Sam. You’d both decided to keep quiet about your budding relationship though that was easier said than done. 

Finishing the last of his drink Sam stood from the table, his hand left your tigh and you frowned slightly at the lost warmth. “I'm gonna go grab another drink. Anyone else?” He paused for a moment and you watched in amusement as multiple hands shot in the air with various shouts of drinks accompanying them. “I’ll help.” You said standing from your seat.

Your friends quickly went back to their conversations as the two of you walked into the crowd. The moment you were far enough into the crowd you felt Sam’s hand wrap around yours as he pulled you towards a corner. “I thought we were going to the bar?” You laughed feeling your back hit the wall. Sam grinned moving his hands to your waist before leaning down. “We are, we're just making a small stop first.” 

You felt him press his lips to yours for a moment before he pulled back placing his forehead against yours. “We can’t be too long there gonna get suspicious.” Your voice was quiet as you spoke. A small shiver ran through you at the feel of his breath ghosting your lips.

“There occupied for a little longer at least.” He chuckled quietly throwing a glance over his shoulder before looking back to you. “I’ve not seen you alone all week, excuse me for wanting some time alone.” A small gasp of surprise left your lips as you felt him kiss you again. His hand moved to cup the back of your head as he moved almost impossibly closer, crowding into your space. 

After a moment you pulled back, small pants leaving your lips. “Okay. We need to actually go get the drinks now.” You grabbed his hand pulling him towards the bar. As you reached the bar he wrapped an arm over your shoulder pulling you into his side. 

A small thrill ran through you as he listed off the drinks, his thumb slowly rubbing circles on your shoulder. You threw a small glance behind your shoulder a small smile growing on your lips at the sight of your friends still just as oblivious as they’d been before. 

[deansapplepie]

deansapplepie’s Masterlist

What I’m writing ✍️

About me (soon)

Angst - 🍁 Fluff - 🪷 Smut - 🥵

Daryl Dixon

Till THE DEAD do us part Series Masterlist 🍁🪷🥵

I don’t believe in colors… (Soulmate AU) 🍁

Inherited Masterlist (Cowboy AU) 🍁🪷🥵

Everything with you, everything from you 🥵

The Spitting Image Series Masterlist 🍁🪷(?)

Can’t promise ya that, sweetheart 🍁

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I would never let you in pain 🪷

Ya look ridiculous 🥵

In your Dreams | Vampire! Daryl 🥵

Remus Lupin

Soon…

Events

Marchweres Event

@marchweres by @lazyneonrabbitt

Day 1 - 2: Full Moon, Shapeshifting, Predator-Prey (Daryl Dixon x Reader) 🥵

Day 3: The Bite, Mating Bite(Daryl Dixon x Reader)🥵

Day 4 - 5: Cursed, Finding Out (Remus Lupin x Reader)🍁🪷

Day 6: Wet Dog (Daryl Dixon x Reader)🪷

Day 7: Hunting (Daryl Dixon x Reader)🪷

Day 8: Loyal (Daryl Dixon x Reader) 🍁(?)

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Inside Man: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.2k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst, smut, fem!receiving

Summary: The gang is split into two. Sam and Cas continue to look for the cure for the Mark with the help of someone who will do anything to bring you back. You and Dean face off with Rowena but this time, you're going to show her that you're the most powerful witch there is, and damn her if she thinks she can beat you.

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

x

Dean doesn't want to talk about this inside the Bunker where you're at because he doesn't want you to know about this. He called Cas to come out right after discovering that your blue magic was pouring out of his hands last night. All three men are standing outside the Bunker while Dean tries to conjure the magic from last night.

"Okay, I can't do it now but I swear, Cas, I had her magic."

Cas lifts his hand and checks on the status of your soul which still has slivers of darkness in it.

"Her soul still isn't ready but it's almost there. It's getting lighter every day. I can only assume that since you have her soul in you and her magic is tied to her soul, you have access to her magic."

Dean opens and closes his mouth as he thinks of something to say. Sam slaps his brother's arm and Dean looks at him like he's crazy.

"Dude, this can work. If you can learn how to control this, that gives us a real shot at beating Y/N."

"I don't know," Dean sighs.

"The only way to get her back to who she was before is to take that mark off her body and shove her soul back in. All you need to worry about is her magic and her soul, and we'll worry about the Mark."

"What if she finds out? She'll kill my kids," Dean almost cries.

"If you act like nothing is wrong, then she won't know to suspect anything. Look, Cas and I will go find a way to get this Mark off. Just keep her here and keep her distracted. Tell her I'm seeing a French film." Dean still doesn't look convinced. "You said it yourself. You promised her that you'd stop looking. I never promised anything. This way, you get to keep your hands clean."

"Fine," Dean sighs.

Sam and Dean head back into the Bunker while Cas waits outside. You're still inside your room where you've been all night so Sam quickly and quietly packs a bag. He pats his brother on the shoulder as he leaves, and Dean sighs at the thought of being alone with you. He walks over to your room reluctantly because what is he even going to say? What is there to say? He stands in the hallway looking like an idiot when your door opens. His mouth goes dry when he sees you standing in your room wearing one of your most revealing lingerie sets. Your ass is on display, your nipples poke through the very thin fabric of your bra, and your skin glows from the moisturizer you just put on.

"What are you doing?" he asks with hooded eyes.

"How do I look?" you grin and turn to him.

"Hot but what are you doing?"

"I got bored and decided to try some of these on." You walk over to Dean and lean against the door frame. "Where's Sam?"

"To Witchita to see a movie."

"So, what you're saying is we have the Bunker to ourselves?"

"Yeah, I guess."

"Good."

You grab Dean's shirt and pull him toward you, and he doesn't know what to do when your lips slant against his. It's been so long since he's felt your lips on his, your body on his. You might be soulless and want to kill him but you're still you. Dean fights against himself to reject you but he doesn't. You feel too good to pull away from.

"Get in here and remind me what it feels like to have you in bed."

Dean steps inside the room and slams the door behind him. You don't care about Dean. You don't have feelings for him. What you do care about is the mind-blowing orgasm you know he can give you. Dean knows he shouldn't do this but he isn't thinking with his upstairs brain right now. He can't think about anything right now with the way you're running your hands over his body like that.

"Well? Aren't you going to touch me?"

Dean backs you up to the bed and you fall down onto it. He leans over you and decides to start from the very top. He peels off the straps on your shoulders and with each piece of new skin, he presses kisses against you, licking thin lines down your body. He reaches around your chest to unclasp your bra, tossing the offending material out of the way. He peppers light kisses around the skin of your breasts before attaching his lips to the place you need him. He wraps his lips around your right nipple while his hand pinches your left. 

One of the most sensitive spots on your body are your nipples, and the tugging of his lips and fingers sends waves of pleasure down to your core. You don't give him the noises he wants but your body tells him everything he needs to know about you. You like this but your pride won't let you tell him verbally. Popping the hard bud out of his mouth, he grins as he kisses all the way down to your panty line.

"So pretty for me. Bet you look even prettier with them off."

"Only one way to find out, Winchester."

He reaches down and unhooks the straps connecting your panties and your tights so he can remove the one piece of material that's truly in his way. He can smell just how needy you are when he slides off your panties. He likes the way your legs look with the tights and heels, so he opts to leave them on. With nothing standing in his way, he spreads your legs. He is definitely going to Hell. He shouldn't want this but he does.

"So pretty and pink," he mutters.

"Are you gonna eat me or do I have to get my vibrator to come do your job for you?"

He immediately dives right in. He hooks your legs over his shoulders so that he can have better access to your dripping pussy. He licks one thick stripe up your slit, gathering the juices that have leaked out of you. He wraps his tongue around your clit and sucks hard, causing you to let out an unexpected squeal.

"Fuck!"

He moves his tongue back down to your entrance and shoves his tongue in without warning. One hand keeps your thighs open while the other rests on your lower stomach so that his thumb can work over your clit. He licks you from wall to wall, swirling it around to taste every inch of you. His thumb rubs hard circles around your clit, feeling the small nub throb from the pressure. He pinches your clit and rolls it around between his fingers, feeling you right at the edge. He gives a single swish of his tongue, and you're toppling over the edge.

You refuse to say his name but you do moan loudly from the pleasure. Your hand flies to the back of his head, and you hold him there while you ride out your orgasm. Your legs shake from how intense it is, and he licks every drop you have to give him. When he pulls away from you, his beard is glistening with your orgasm.

"Fuck," you whisper. 

He crawls up your body and kisses you hard, shoving his tongue into your mouth so you can taste yourself on him.

"Now fuck me," you say against his lips.

"Who am I to deny you?"

He stands up to his full height and grips your waist, flipping you over so that you're now lying flat on your stomach. He pulls your hips to meet his, your ass now sticking in the air for him while the rest of your body is smushed into the sheets below. He strips himself free of his clothing and his hard cock bounces free. You peek over your shoulder to see him stroking himself, and your pussy clenches at the thought of having his cock inside you. Dean is a big man in general, and even his hand can't fit all the way around him. He might be an ass but he's damn good at sex. 

You spread your legs further to entice him and he takes the bait. He runs the tip of his cock through your folds before sliding himself in. He doesn't exactly take it slow, but he isn't slamming into you. Your pussy flutters all around him, and he begins to move. In and out, slowly at first. When he knows you can take more, he picks up the pace. He feels your need and lust for him even if it is only momentary, and he's going to give you exactly what you want. He grips your hips and holds you steady before slowly pulling all the way out and slamming right back in. 

"Fuck!" you scream.

He keeps the brutal pace, pounding so fast that the only thing that can be heard from inside the room is both of your pants, your drawn-out moans, and skin slapping against skin. Pleasure stems from your pussy and shoots out in every direction, numbing your whole body in the most delicious of ways.

"Fuck," you groan, "I'm going to come. Please don't stop."

"Go ahead. Come."

You clench hard around him but he still finds a way to shove himself deeper into you. He taps your g spot from behind, and the dam breaks. You and Dean come together at the same time, and you feel both of your orgasms mix together inside of you. His thrusts begin to slow down until he is finished. He pulls out of you and watches as the evidence of your activity drips out of your pussy and down your thighs. He flips down on the bed next to you, and you turn your head to face him.

"Okay, maybe you're good for one thing," you smirk.

Dean closes his eyes and tries not to think of what his brother would say if he found out about this. Sam and Cas have been driving in silence for an hour when Sam breaks it.

"Thanks for coming, Cas," Sam says.

"Of course. How is Y/N doing?"

"Not good, Cas. She's stealing power from people. That's why she wants to hunt. She's feeding this Mark with power. This is exactly what we've been trying to avoid this whole time."

Cas sighs and looks out the window in thought.

"The Mark is going to consume her from the inside out the longer she goes without her soul. We need to cure her fast. At least without the Mark, we'll be rid of our biggest problem."

"Would she still have magic without the Mark?"

"I don't think so. I think the Mark gave her magic to help feed it."

The entrance to Heaven is located at a children's park in Witchita. There aren't children playing when they get there, only two people who are pretending to enjoy themselves. To anyone else, it looks creepy because they're just sitting there lightly swinging on the swings. To Sam and Cas, it looks like two guards guarding the entrance to the castle. Sam and Cas get out and approach the two angels who stand at cautious attention.

"That's far enough, Castiel."

"Excuse me?"

"I have orders. You aren't allowed upstairs."

"Says who?" Sam asks.

"Hold, please."

A rift opens on the sandbox and the angel steps through it. Moments later, another angel comes out but it's not one that Sam recognizes.

"Hello, Castiel."

"Hannah."

Sam furrows his brow when he hears a woman's name but sees a man in front of him. He stays silent and allows Cas to handle this one.

"I swore I'd never occupy another vessel but we need to have this conversation face-to-face. What do you want in Heaven?"

"Metatron."

"Why? Is this about your Grace? Are you fading?" she asks, concerned.

"I'm fine for now."

"This is about my brother and his wife," Sam says.

"Because you think Metatron might have information about the Mark of Cain?"

"No. We know he does."

"So he says, but Metatron lies."

"Hannah, we just want to talk with him," Sam sighs.

"No, you want his help, but we both know the only way Metatron helps you is if he's free. I can't let the scribe out of his cell. Not again. He's too dangerous."

"We won't--"

"Yes, you will because you're desperate."

"Listen, Hannah, Dean and Y/N are getting worse. Y/N is the Scarlet Witch now. She's becoming ruthless and deadly. She does not care who lives or dies and that includes her children. If we don't remove this Mark from her, she will become too powerful for anyone to stop. I don't think you're understanding the gravity of the situation," Sam explains.

"I understand just fine."

"After all I've done for Heaven after all I've done for you," Cas glares.

"I'm sorry," she sighs.

"You should be!"

The door to Heaven opens and three more angels come out to back Hannah up.

"Cas, let's go," Sam says and tugs on his arm.

"What? We're leaving?"

"Yeah, we can't fight off four angels."

Sam tugs Cas back over to the car and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"So, what? Are you giving up on Metatron?"

"No, we need him. Time for plan 'B'. We break him out."

"How?"

"The only way we can get into Heaven without actually getting into Heaven is to contact someone who is already here. I know someone who would do anything for Y/N and Dean. We just need to find a psychic to make that connection, and I know who can do it."

x

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[waynes-multiverse]

Plastic Hearts – Part 6

Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader

Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.

Chapter Warnings: +18, crack, drinking & drugs, mentions of homewrecking, self-worth issues & hints of a praise kink, mean girl spirit

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: You may hate him, but you can’t deny that Dean is actually one of us. He’s just a poor, suffering artist and all he wants is some affection and praise, goddammit! Welcome back to the jungle, loves! Speaking of, I made you a playlist and will add all the songs that are either mentioned or inspired this. Enjoy this super serious piece of fiction and leave your laughs below 😉🖤

<< 5 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist

6. Pour Some Sugar On Me

A week has passed in paradise, and Dean is happy to report that he’s managed to smooth things over with the ladies. The women get along great these days; no more fights or backhanded comments in sight. They all bonded, mostly over the fact that they declared him public enemy No. 1. He’s about 90% sure they’re plotting to kill him. Dean’s fine with that, though, and prefers this arrangement over last week’s Shakespearean nightmare.

Billie forgave him after he threw some money at the problem, making her a devilish offer she simply couldn’t refuse. Since she’s not only an actor but also the wrestling coach, Dean promised her double salary. Now, she’s doing it all – like Bruce Lee. That one really sold her on it. And in all honesty, it’s not like there’s any other director out there in Hollywood crazy enough to hire a stunt double in a starring role. She should count herself lucky that he’s fucking nuts.

Yeah, Dean’s all about fulfilling dreams these days…

Speaking of dreams, fucking Strindberg is his model employee. She’s the first one in the gym in the mornings and the last one out at night. That woman really doesn’t have a life outside of this. It’s sad, but her sadness is good for him and this little production. It’s nice to know someone’s going above and beyond for this thing, you know? He certainly isn’t.  

Y/N’s by far the best girl he’s got in this pack of untamed wolves. She really improved herself in just one single week. He noticed she’s become friends with Legacy, which is good, too. Dean wants her to have someone in her corner to support her if he can’t always do it publicly. The two girls have been hanging out the whole week, training and giggling together. Strindberg is a smart girl – Legacy has been teaching her all the pro-wrestling moves, and now Y/N’s moves are the most convincing out of all of the women. She’s making fucking phenomenal progress.

Dean’s really proud of her – and bitter that he can’t tell her. But the fact that she’s working so hard just proves that his fucking genius plan worked. His job isn’t always a picnic because Hollywood isn’t all fun and games. Sure, there are the parties and the money and the fame and the drugs and the sex – but most times, being in this business means enduring hard work and grueling humiliation that often brings you to your goddamn knees. If Strindberg wants to be famous so bad, then she needs to pay the price.

And Dean needs to let her pay it because he pays one, too.

Y/N fucking hates him with every fiber of her being. It’s the kind of hatred that seeps deep into your bones, shatters your soul, and crushes your heart. It’s all there in her beautiful eyes every time he fucking looks at her.

Don’t get him wrong – she smiles at him, she answers his questions politely, she takes his directions, she holds his gaze… but only if she absolutely fucking has to. Otherwise, she’s completely ignoring him and giving him the cold shoulder. Bravo.

But hey, that’s the price he’s gotta pay for good TV, right? If Dean needs to be her outlet and punching bag, then he’ll be exactly that. He’s basically championing equality here. It’s not just Strindberg who has to live with the consequences of her actions. He’s taking his punishment in stride, too.

Besides, as long as Y/N hates him, it keeps her from hating Jo, so that’s progress in show biz. Dean is more or less the two women’s fluffer, keeping the flames alive outside of the ring, you know? Believe it or not, he actually doesn’t want the girls to be at each other’s throats outside of a wrestling match and is secretly hoping his crazy ploy will eventually repair their friendship again.

See? He’s a good person, after all. Give him some goddamn credit here.

Admittedly, there’s only one teeny-tiny thing that bothers him, though, and it’s that Y/N just hates him so goddamn fucking much, you know? It’s the sheer amount of hatred that truly baffles him. If Dean didn’t know any better, he’d think Strindberg hates him more than the fucking blonde. And that woman was the thorn in her eyes for almost her whole fucking lifetime.

Like, what the hell is going on? Is she projecting twenty years of resentment onto him now?  

Nah, you know what? Dean doesn’t care that she hates him. He told her not to give a shit about him, and that’s precisely what she’s doing. She’s not giving a single fucking shit about him. She’s following his directions to a tee. He’s proud of her. Really, he is. It’s exactly what he wanted.

It’s just…

Where the fuck is all that goddamn anger towards him coming from? Admittedly, that shit show last week was a lot, but he figured maybe she’d give him the silent treatment for a day or two, you know? Not a whole damn week. And she’s still not even close to fucking breaking.

Y/N’s really not giving a single shit about him.

Sure, Dean wanted to turn her into the ultimate villain. He wanted to prepare her for the role, push her, coach her, guide her, you know? But he didn’t necessarily want her to fucking hate him for it.

Fuck. He may have gone a little overboard after all. Maybe he needs to do some damage control. There are two problems that come with that, though.

One, Joanna could be watching. His deal with her kind of rides on Y/N’s constant humiliation. So, if he’s too nice to Strindberg and starts favoring her (because honestly, he should), then the blonde might walk. He does need his fucking star, even if he hates that woman.

And two, if he gives Strindberg too much praise, she might start slacking. But if he goes hard on her all the time, then she might quit. Needless to say, he can’t do the show without her either.

So, you see, the line he has to walk is incredibly fucking thin. One wrong move, and these women will fucking claw his green eyes out.

While Y/N is the model employee, Joanna is the opposite. But she’s the star, so she’s allowed. Dean’s lucky if the actress shows up only an hour late and is mostly sober. Because news flash – Barbie’s been hitting the bottle hard this week. That woman is a complete fucking mess. She also fucking sucks at wrestling. Her moves are jerky, uncoordinated, and clumsy. Probably because she’s drunk. So is he, but he doesn’t have to wrestle, so no one cares.

Dean once tried to subtly critique the blonde and was viciously told to fuck off because she just had a fucking baby and then some shit about breastfeeding, leaking, hips being in the wrong place, blah-blah-blah… He tuned out after the first few words. Since then, he leaves the training of the blonde to Billie, though.

It’s funny how the tables have suddenly turned. Joanna might be his star, but Y/N is his fucking muse. She’s goddamn shining, and Dean wishes he could tell her that and see her face light up.

But he has to play the role of the villain, too.

Dean has finally finished the pilot script for this fucking show, so Cas agreed to swing by the gym and check it out. He also knows the producer just wants to meet the girls so goddamn badly. He’s been biting Dean’s ear off the whole fucking week about finally introducing him to the women. Don’t worry, though. Cas doesn’t belong in the sleazy producer category of Hollywood. He’s just a childish idiot with a big heart who really loves wrestling. He means no harm to the women; he’s just embarrassingly fanboy-ing.

And if you think Dean’s being a little harsh by calling the rich boy an idiot: Cas just landed his fucking chopper in the goddamn parking lot – right between the burning trash piles.

However, it’s fucking script day, so Dean’s in the best mood. He’s so fucking excited to show the girls his vision. He poured his blood, sweat, and tears into this manuscript. And now, he gets to hear his praise – the ultimate reward of every artist. It will be a fun, drama-free day.

As Dean cheerily leaves his office with a stack of freshly printed scripts, he finds Cas already on the bleachers, chatting vividly with the women. Only Strindberg is in the ring, working her ass off like usual. Cas, on the other hand, sits right between bombshell Joanna and… Meg.    

Oddly, Dean gets the strange choice. Wolf lady is weirdly fascinating.

“Ah, ladies! I see you’ve already met our producer, Cas Novak,” Dean smiles charmingly. There’s always a bit of brown-nosing involved with producers. That’s part of the job, too. “Just so you know, he writes your checks, so be nice.”

“Girls, it’s fine,” Cas soothingly swoops in, chuckling. “I don’t like to talk about money. I’m a patron of the arts. And wrestling is an art, despite my mother’s opinion… which is wrong.”

Oh yeah, did Dean mention that Cas is financing this whole thing with the allowance his mother grants him? Yup. Dean might be an even bigger idiot since he agreed to this insane deal.

“Dean, I gotta tell you – I love the casting. Even Ms. Serious over here,” Cas tells him enthusiastically and nudges Meg.

Oooooh. The producer shouldn’t do that, or Meg might bite him. Dean knows. She bit him three days ago. Apparently, he moved his hand too fast or some shit. Yeah…

“So, what kind of moves have you girls learned? Where’s Freeman, by the way?” Cas aims his last question at Dean.

Shit.

“Uh, change of plans. Freeman sadly didn’t work out, but, uhm, Billie here has actually been training these girls,” Dean feigns a wide smile and slings his arm around the stunt woman, pinching her in the hip until she starts smiling, too. It’s not that goddamn hard. Seriously, what’s with these women? “She’s fantastic.”

“Uh, does she have any wrestling experience?” Cas warily arches one eyebrow.

“I’m right here,” Billie grits through her teeth.

“Well, alright,” Dean grunts and rolls his eyes, dropping his grip on the stunt woman. “Fans might tune in for the moves, but they’re not gonna stay unless we give them what, ladies?” He’s such a good fucking teacher, isn’t he?

“Blood!”

“Tits!”

What the–

These fucking women…

“Storytelling, ladies. Storytelling,” Dean emphasizes. It’s like they don’t wanna be taught, you know? “Alright, script time! Shiny and new!”

Strindberg, who hasn’t shown any interest in schmoozing the producer this entire time, suddenly perks up at the mention of a script. She really is Dean’s favorite. And this is the perfect opportunity for some damage control.

“Okay, I’m just gonna cast as we go along, yeah? Starting with…” Dean feigns a pondering look around the bleachers. “Y/N!” He hears her footsteps in the ring behind him and bites back the smile as he faces her. “Ah, there you are.”

She leans coolly against the ropes in her tiny leotard and smiles, “Yes, anything you need, boss.”

See? She’s doing everything she’s supposed to do, saying all the right things, being perfectly pleasant, but she still fucking hates him. It’s so fucking weird. He can’t explain it. She’s driving him nuts. And oh God, she’s so fucking hot with that hatred in her eyes. He’s getting hard every time he looks at her. Seriously, sometimes a tiny glimpse is all it really takes.

Dean then snaps out of his stupor and subtly clears his throat, “Uhm, yeah, I need you to read stage directions.”

“Oh.” Her face falls, and the little smile is gone. “Sure.”

Look, it’s the best he can do for now without Barbie losing her shit. Dean did write her a part, though. He wrote her a fabulously long monologue. He’s sure Strindberg’s going to love it.

While Y/N isn’t necessarily thrilled to play the narrator, she still gives it her all and enthusiastically reads his directions. Dean also picked her because she’s got the nicest voice of them all, and there are tons of stage directions. He can’t even listen to the other women sometimes. They’re like white noise to him, you know?

“The year is 1999,” Y/N begins to read as everyone has gathered to listen intently. “Nuclear war has reduced the Earth to a smoking ruin. Lost tribes of women wander the land, scavenging for water, food, and an even scarcer resource – men.”

Dean notices how Y/N’s head tilts slightly at that but tries not to take offense to it. It’s a fucking good script. Honestly, this script is his best work since Blood-Dye, which was a horror movie about a vampire using his victims’ blood to tie-dye shirts. Of course, fucking Strindberg, the theater nerd, wouldn’t get it.

Y/N clears her throat lightly and then continues, “For the privilege of breeding with civilization’s last male specimen, women wrestle for domination. Welcome to the ultimate catfight. Welcome to the world of GLOW."

See? It’s fucking fantastic.

The script then plays out, he’s casting the women along the way in their respective roles, and everyone seems interested, including Cas. By the second act, though, they start to lose a little energy during the underground bunker scene. And by act three, they finally reach Y/N’s part.

“Boom! A massive explosion shakes the walls of the Uterus Cave, and in walks… Cuntar, the man-eater and a vision of hideousness,” Y/N reads, her brow furrowing a bit.

“Oh, uh, you read Cuntar,” Dean tells her, and she fucking beams at him. He’s never been happier this whole week.

Y/N then hops into the middle of the ring and joyfully begins to act with her heart and soul, “I am Cuntar!”

“Dear God, she’s even more disgusting in person,” party girl gasps loudly.

Y/N cocks her head at the brunette behind her right shoulder, her finger pointing at the script. “Oh, where does it say that?”

“Oh, uh, it’s right there… where I’m ad-libbing,” Ruby taunts her in true mean-girl fashion.

“C’mon, stick to script,” Dean reprimands Valley bitch sternly and hopes it’ll suffice. It’s like a fucking circus with them.

“Uhm, actually, maybe we should take a break,” Cas suggests with a throat clear.

“We’re almost done,” Dean huffs and throws his hands up. Can they just get through this thing once? They’re fucking ruining his vision. Except for Strindberg – she’s awesome.

“Yeah, I actually have a big monologue coming up,” Y/N adds excitedly. She’s so cute. Thank God for Strindberg. At least one of those ungrateful bitches is trying to help him here.

“I could use a break,” Jo pipes up and passive-aggressively bumps into Strindberg’s shoulder in passing while Y/N glares into the back of the blonde’s head.

Yeah, that’s been going on the whole week, too. If these two idiots were men, they would’ve already beat the shit out of each other in the parking lot and then called it even over a beer, you know? But oh no, women need to hold onto their rage for as long as fucking possible because God knows it’s so fucking healthy.

Following Joanna’s lead, the rest of the women exit the ring until only he and Strindberg are left. Their gazes meet briefly, and it almost looks like she’s holding an ounce of sympathy for him, but not even a second later, she breaks eye contact and slides wordlessly out of the ring.

See? She doesn’t give a single shit about him.

Scratching his jaw, Dean finally exits the ring as well and settles on the bleachers next to Cas, swallowing down his pride. In his periphery, he’s still observing Strindberg, however, as she sits down cross-legged in a quiet corner of the gym and thoroughly studies his script while the other women are goofing around. His heart swells.

“So, what did you think, Cas? Great, right? And you can be totally honest with me,” Dean grins broadly. He knows it’s a fucking amazing script and can’t wait to get praised for it. A shining red cherry atop his fabulous sundae is all he wants.

Cas scratches his throat, head bobbing, “Yeah, uh, it’s great, Dean. There is-… There’s, uh, so much about this that’s working.”

“Well, you hired me to do a different kind of wrestling show,” Dean winks, his cheeks blushing pink as the heat rises.

“Mission accomplished,” Cas chuckles and rubs his mouth. He then lets out a small sigh, “Hey, uh, you know what? Let’s take the rest of the day off, alright? Have some drinks.”

“Drinks? What? Why?”

Uh-oh.

“Yeah, let’s not… Let’s have a welcome party,” Cas announces loud enough for the girls to hear, who come running like coyotes and flock around the producer. “I mean, you and I have known each other for twenty years. Some would even say I’m your closest friend and like family–”

“You’re not…”

“–but they’re all new, you know? Let’s get to know each other. Who wants to go to Malibu, huh?”

“I do!”

“Yes!”

Dean sighs deeply on the inside, hiding his misery. He knows what it means when a producer invites you for fucking drinks at their mansion. His script sucks – according to their shitty opinion, at least.

The women chatter excitedly now, planning outfits and make-up. Most of them have probably never even been to Malibu. Dean hates driving there and is annoyed Cas is making him take an hour-long trip through LA traffic just to tell him the producer doesn’t like his script. Why can’t he just do that now? Fucking politics.

The women are thrilled, except for Strindberg, who’s still showing no interest in either the producer or the party and quietly sneaks into the changing rooms.

Cas was able to take one more person in his chopper and picked Joanna. Dean’s glad because he didn’t want to drive that annoying woman and knows she hasn’t exactly made friends with the other girls. She’s more of a lone wolf, mostly because she bites everyone that comes close. Funnily enough, though, all the girls love Meg.

“Dean! Wait!”

As Dean strolls across the parking lot to the Impala, his ears instantly perk up when Strindberg’s sweet voice sounds behind him like a siren call. He stops and glances over his shoulder to see her come running after him with his script in her hand. His heart warms and enters into a direct competition with the glowing California sun.

Once the young actress has caught up to him, she finds his eyes, “Uh, can I ask you a quick question?”  

Wow. That’s the first time she’s speaking without being spoken to. Maybe the bit of damage control was enough and finally earned him some forgiveness.  

“Sure, sweetheart. Shoot,” Dean smiles widely at her. The blonde bitch has already left with Cas, so he can finally be as nice as he wants and enjoy the warm sunshine on his skin. Life is good.

“So, uh, how important is it that we all go to this thing? Because I was thinking I should probably go home and work on my lines, you know? See if I can go off-book by tomorrow,” she explains.

Oh Strindberg, you little nerd...

Regardless, Dean feels flattered that she’s excited about her role and is already giving it her all. At least she appreciates his hard work, even though Dean knows she’s not a fan of his script, either. He could tell by her various facial twitches while she read his stage directions. Nevertheless, she’s still loyal and protecting his vision. It makes his heart dance with pride – and his dick, well, don’t ask. The poor fella is suffering terribly.

“You don’t wanna suck up to the producer like your pal Joanna?” Dean smirks tongue-in-cheek, lifting an eyebrow.  

Y/N matches his smile a little, recognizing it as harmless teasing. “Uhm, kinda trying to keep a safe distance from my pal Joanna these days.”

“Don’t overthink it, Y/N,” Dean encourages her and shrugs his shoulders, “It’s just a party.”

“Last time I went to a party with Jo, I slept with her husband,” she retorts and shoots him a raised look.

“Right, uhm, well…,” Dean splutters and scratches the back of his neck, mixing in a few clearing coughs. “Lucky for you, the wimp’s not invited this time, so come on, Strindberg, you need some fun. Do you need a ride? You can ride with me.”

Oh God, Dean needs to stop before he becomes the desperate attention whore.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll take my car,” Y/N casually wipes his offer off the table and starts rummaging for her keys in her purse.

“Hey, Y/N! Can I ride with you?” Donna comes jogging up to them with a bright smile.

“Yeah, sure,” Y/N replies happily, the women instantly linking their arms and starting to stroll to the yellow Golf Cabrio, ignoring his existence.

Is Dean fucking invisible to everyone? What about his praise? What about his reward, huh? Strindberg is still his favorite, though. That’s probably why her rejection hurts so much.

“Hey boss, can I ride with you?” Billie approaches him, grinning.

“Sure,” Dean replies with a small sigh of frustration and opens the passenger’s door for her. The other girls have already left, squeezing themselves into party girl’s limo.

“Great,” Billie sneers before her expression darkens, “Then we can talk about how you didn’t write me a part in your jerk-off space opera.”

His smile falters, broad and proud shoulders slumping. “It’s a post-nuke dystopia, thank you very much,” Dean snaps defensively.

Their glaring contest only gets interrupted when Jailbait suddenly runs up to the Impala and tries to slide into the backseat.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa… what are you doing?” Dean stops her from touching his Baby and grabs her wrist before it reaches the door handle. How come all these women want to hitch a ride with him, but the one woman he actually wanted to take rejected him? It was supposed to be his fucking happy day.

“There wasn’t enough room in the limo,” Jailbait explains, shrugging. Dean should probably also stop calling her that. Her name is Claire; he remembered it. “Also, can I just say that this script was your best work since Blood-Dye,” she informs him enthusiastically, her eyes wide and full of admiration for his genius. “It has the surrealist quality of your early works but with a more subversive message about the limitations of feminism and nuclear power.”

A wide and cocky smile shapes on his lips as Dean glances at Billie. “See? She gets it.” He then nods approvingly at Claire, opening the backseat door for her. “Alright, kid. Get in.”

And that’s why Jailbait is still around and is his second favorite. Who else would pour some sugar on him otherwise, huh? And Dean’s fucking weak and needs praise, too.

So, shitty Malibu party here they fucking come.

7. Another Brick In The Wall

See? Dean’s every writer on tumblr 😂 Ready for your first Malibu producer party tomorrow? 🥳🍾

Plastic Hearts Series: @spnexploration @jessjad @siospins2 @mrsjenniferwinchester @akshi8278 @xlynnbbyx @wayward-dreamer @foxyjwls007 @smellingofpoetry @justrealizedimmascifygurl @ladysparkles78 @leigh70 @4getfulimaginator2022 @globetrotter28 @b3autyfuldisast3r @deansbbyx @yeahmynameiscool06​ @luci-wiggles​

[notinthislife50]

Chapter 28

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You reached the roadhouse, slipped quietly in and packed your bag, and left no word to anyone. You thought that by moving here,  you would have a better life. But this was something you couldn't get your head around.  You uncovered your bike, jumped on it, and disappeared from everyone.

You sat on the chair screaming,  though your voice was not heard, your body sat silently, calmly, and sickeningly admiringly watching the man pacing in front of you.

“Let's be nice to our guest darling,” The man smiled at you,  caressing your cheek.

“Castiel, brother“ he welcomed the man,  who was standing in a circle of fire.

Castiel looked at you "Y/N,  I am here with the Winchesters” but no emotion came from you.

“You won't get much out of her” Lucifer smiled “I've had a few months to work my charm on her, ” he grinned at Castiel,  walking behind you and placing his chin on your head, rubbing his hands up and down your arms. Making you sneer in disgust inside your head.

“You can't have her or Sam Winchester” Casitel stated, “ I am not going to let you have any of them.”

Lucifer turned you to face him and held you in his arms,  as he leaned in to kiss you he heard a voice yell “Hey!”

You both turned and saw Sam “You wanted to see me?“ he commanded.

“He came,” you gleefully looked to Lucifer.

“Sam,  no need for weapons here,  we won't hurt you, we love you” Lucifer tried to diffuse him and pushed you towards him. As you stretched out your arms to embrace the man, a voice came from behind you.

“Yea, but maybe I kill her” Dean grabbed you pointing a gun to your head, then at Lucifer and pulled the trigger, causing Lucifer to drop to the ground.

"You won't kill me,  you love her too much “ you laughed turning to face Dean,  your eyes turning black. "And guess what,  you didn't kill him either,” You smiled wide.

Dean tried to comprehend your words for a second then he heard Lucifer cough “Okay owww, where did you get that?” he asked, rising to his feet.

“Don't feel too bad Sammy,  the colt can't kill me. I'm one of the only five things it can't kill” Lucifer said turning to face him “ But I knew you weren't going to make it easy for me and just say yes “ he stood looking at Sam “ I mean, even after I got you the perfect wife"  he looked over at you winking.

"You see I may need your permission to be my vessel,  but I certainly don’t need hers to sire my children, shame though the girl is spitfire really put up a hell of a fight that I had to call in reinforcements. Though when the time comes,  I would have loved to see what that was like in bed. Without the demon." Looking at Dean and grinning, taunting him.

“It's never gonna happen,  me or her” Sam shouted at him.

“Really Sam,  I think it's gonna happen and I think it’s going to happen soon,  you will say yes to me, but to show you I am a nice guy I'll give her back,  but make no mistake you are both mine and I will come for you, both of you.” you felt the sensation of your body falling to the floor and then darkness.

You awoke in Bobby's house “Thank fuck, I knew you would find me.“ you sighed in relief.

But as you looked around the room the mood was unsettling. No one would meet your eye.

“Dean,  I promise that wasn't me I didn't say yes” You got up and held his hands trying to convince him, pleading with him.

But what he did next surprised you “I know sweetheart I know, I'm so sorry” You felt his tears on your head and then his lips softly brushing your temple.

You looked between them, panic building up inside of you “ What's going on,  what happened?”

But no one answered.

“Someone to talk to me" your voice raised, breaking away from Dean "Please." you pleaded.

“Y/N,” Dean said lowly “It's Jo and Ellen,”

“No “ you pointed at him angrily “ Don't you dare say what I think you're going to say.”

“Y/N,” Bobby said softly.

You span round to face him, Shaking your head from side to side, tears streaming down your face.

“No Bobby, I don't believe you, It's not true” you cried. "it can't be true. They are the only family I have"

You looked frantically between the four men, hoping they would take it back, begging it was some kind of mistake.

But their heads were bowed not looking at you. Even the angel wouldn’t look at you.  You heard Sam sniff and saw tears fall from his face.

Then you felt Dean's arms grab you, "No" you slapped him away "your lying, I don't believe you."

He tried again to hold you but you pushed him back and ran out the front door, vomited, and screamed until your throat was sore.

You felt Dean wrap his arms around you “I'm so sorry baby girl,  I'm so sorry,”

But you had no words, just tears.

“I want to be alone Dean” you whispered.

Dean reluctantly walked away. When you were alone, you took the photo from your wallet and stared at it, the only family you had. You took your lighter and burned it. You stomped on it with your boot with anger and you left.

@deansgirl79 @suckitands33 @deans-baby-momma @dragony937 @linzerrr @deans-spinster-witch @foxyjwls007 @mikaylalala13 @jackles010378 @fraidoftedark 

[mrs-mjf]

[heartiella]

[jackalspine]

@schnuffel-danny hehehe

regarding this post: from schnuffle

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Husband Effect

Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...

Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)

Word Count: 2,200ish

Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff

A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!

__________

“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”

“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”

“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”

“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.

“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”

“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.

“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.

“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”

“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”

“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”

“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.

“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”

“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”

“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”

“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”

“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.

“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.

“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”

“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.

“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”

“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”

“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”

“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. 

“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.

“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.

“Please hurry Sam.”

One Week Later

“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”

“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”

“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.

“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”

“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”

“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”

“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said. 

“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”

“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.

“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.

“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”

“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”

“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away. 

“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”

“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”

“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”

“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”

“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.

“I promise, Y/N.”

“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.

“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.

“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”

“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean. 

“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.

“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.

“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”

“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”

“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”

“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”

“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”

“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“

“I do feel loved,” said Dean.

“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.

“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”

“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.

“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”

“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.

“Cool with it?” you asked.

“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”

“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.

“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.

“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”

One Year Later

“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day. 

“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”

“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”

“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.

“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.

“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”

“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”

“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”

“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.

“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.

“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”

“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.

“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.

“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”

“You got something special planned?” you asked.

“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”

“You read my mind.”

[randommultifandomrants]

Being a girl is: wanting to go to bed early but deciding to just get on tumblr/wattpad/Ao3 for a little bit and then end up finding a fic series that you really like and read until well past your usual bedtime then keeping on because it’s already past your bedtime. Then being mad when you wake up in the morning because you overslept your timer.

[winchester-girl67]

Wild Hearts (Part 1)

Summary: Y/N tags along to a bonfire on the beach with her brother and his friends. She tries to fit in with them, but winds up finding more of a connection to the guy crashing the party. 

Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 

Square: Age gap @spnfluffbingo Meet cute @spnaubingo “Are you stupid or stupid?” 

Word Count: 3,374 

Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 16, Dean is 20 but closer to 21), underage drinking, mostly implied physical abuse, past injury (bruising/scars), language, slow burn, a little angst, arguing, maybe a little gaslighting, mutual pining, a kiss to the forehead, fluff 

A/N: Also written for @spnfluffbingo and @spnaubingo. 

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A/N #2: Masterlist summary and warnings have been updated. Please review before reading. 

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Your brother grabbed your arm and roughly yanked you back towards the party going on down the beach. "Stop being such a bitc-" 

"Ow! Quit it, jerk." You tried to shake your arm from his grasp but his fingers dug in, "You're hurting me." 

"Don't be such a baby," he growled, stopping far enough away from the bonfire so the crowd of his friends wouldn't overhear. There was a chill in the air and his friends were gathered closer around the flames now. "I told you, if you wanted to tag along you can't just wander off by yourself. Mom would have my ass if something happened to you on my watch." 

"Screw you, I'm not a baby. Let. Go." 

He finally did. 

"They're all ignoring me. I wanna go home." You said, pointing to the mean girls a ways away. 

"Well, I'm not taking you. I'm not ready to leave yet." He said, crossing his arms over his chest with a glare. 

You knew it was a mistake taking a ride from him in the first place, but you didn't have your own car. And you failed your driver's test over the last weekend. Fun way to spend your sixteenth birthday, with your brother mocking you the whole way home. 

"Then I'll walk or call mom to come get me." 

"No, you won't. Unless you want her to know that I was right and you are a baby." He stared you down, "Just have a drink and relax for a bit, maybe it'll loosen you up and people will want to talk to you." He glanced back at the busty blonde he'd been eyeing all night; the girl you knew he came here for. He'd only been following her around like a lost puppy all summer. She waved and gave him a little wink. "Stop being so selfish, Y/N, and maybe we'll get along for once." 

"I'm selfish?!" You scoffed, you'd only sat around watching the sunset and shuffling your feet in the sand for the past couple hours while he chatted up said blonde. His friends weren't the only ones excluding you. Not that you wanted to be in on that conversation, but you thought the night was going to go a little different. You thought it would be like the old days when things between you weren't so tense all the time. "Just leave me alone and go drool already."

"And you wonder why I never wanna hang out with you anymore." He snapped and stalked away, throwing his arm over the blonde's shoulders when he reached her. Her eyes gleamed in the firelight and you heard her giggle echo along the shoreline when he tickled her sides. 

Everyone liked your brother and you tried to be just like him when you were younger. You were only a year apart but it made a world of difference. You didn't even mind wearing his hand-me-downs until you got to high school and got made fun of for it. But you made your peace with it now, you'd always be more of a tomboy and you couldn't be anyone but yourself. Graphic tees, jeans and sneakers were the epitome of comfort and that's what you wore now while the mean girls had skimpy dresses and tank tops that did nothing against the cold breeze that wafted in from over the open water. 

But a drink might help. 

The beer cooler was up the beach from the horny seventeen and eighteen-year-olds, but you didn't have to pass them to fish one out from melted ice. You cracked it open and took a sip, souring your face instantly and spitting it out onto the sand. 

You heard someone chuckle and whipped around. A tall guy with shadows cast on his face stood a few feet away, watching you. You glanced down to the bottle in your hand, then back at him. He followed your eyes, his expression turning stoic before you could read him. 

"What?" You asked. 

"It's kind of an acquired taste." He nodded towards the bottle in your hand and you took another sip, choking it down to prove him wrong. He wasn't wrong. Beer was gross. "Are you okay?" 

"Why wouldn't I be okay?" 

He cocked his head towards your brother who was now chasing the blonde down towards the shoreline. You didn't think they'd go in, since it was nearly winter and the water was freezing this time of year. But he teased her and grabbed her like he was going to drag her out into the icy depths. 

"Oh. Yeah, he's just an asshole is all and I needed a drink." You explained, raising the beer to your lips for a third sip. 

You wanted him to leave already so you could dump the rest out in the bushes. 

"Same," he nodded and chugged the rest of his own beer. "He shouldn't treat you like that, though." 

You didn't think he overheard but he'd certainly seen the two of you, "He's my brother, that's what brothers do." 

You toyed with the label on your beer, peeling it back from the glass. 

"No, it's not." 

He stepped forward, setting his empty bottle in the bin next to the cooler. The light of the bonfire catching his features enough for you to finally see him. The first thing you noticed was that he was not a friend of your brother's. He was older, too, though you couldn't tell by how much. 

He was a party crasher. Probably here for the free beer. 

"Whatever. It's not like he hits me, he just gets mad and pushes me around a little." You said, stepping back a foot when the guy took another step towards you. 

"He shouldn't. That's called abuse." 

"Not when I do the same to him. Then it's called sibling rivalry." 

"I know abuse when I see it." His voice lowered as he shoved his hands in his pockets. His words held a story he wasn't telling and you didn't ask. 

You eyed him again. Between the full moon and the light of the fire you noted a few details that jumped out at you. He wasn't bad looking, actually kind of cute. His eyes held a world's worth of emotion as if he vaulted it up inside himself and swallowed the key. Days old bruising covered the left side of his face, particularly around his jaw, cheekbone, and eye. And he intermittently sucked on the split in his bottom lip that had reopened, probably from when he first smiled at you. 

"Well, your story isn't mine." You said, having had enough of this stranger who thinks he knows your life at a glance. He sighed and looked away, steeling his jaw and rubbing the back of his neck. Your eyes cast down to his stomach when his shirt lifted and your heart sank at the sight. A thick scar stretched up his torso from his hip and disappeared beneath the dark fabric of his shirt, peeking back out around his collarbone where the neck hole had been worn loose. Someone had hurt him, badly; you thought that must've been why he was so conscious towards abuse. "Sorry, I didn't know-" 

"Do you wanna go for a walk?" He asked, meeting your eyes and taking another step forward. 

You didn't back away this time, though he was still a good five feet away at least. 

"Yeah, that sounds like a great idea, taking off with some judgy guy I just met and wandering down a dark secluded beach alone with him. Real smart. Maybe wait until I've had a couple drinks first, then try again." You rolled your eyes making him laugh silently. 

"I don't hurt women. Ever." He said as if it was a law of his own. 

"What about men?" 

"Depends," he shrugged. 

"On?"

"I've never started a fight in my life." He said, answering a question you didn't ask rather than the one you did. 

"Somehow I don't believe you." You squinted up at him, trying to read him. 

"Then why haven't you walked away yet?" He looked at the party continuing around the bonfire and then back at you. "You don't wanna be here any more than I do, so let me show you something."

"I swear if that something is your-" 

He raised his hands from his pockets and smiled, "I promise it's not. You'll like this." 

"You get five minutes and I'm counting. Also, I'm a black belt so don't even think about trying anything." You lied, although he didn't strike you as the violent type despite the evidence on his face and stomach. 

You scanned the beach for your brother, spotting him still engrossed with the blonde, so you knew he wouldn't notice any time soon if you'd left without causing a scene. You dumped your nearly full beer out onto the sand and set it in the bin with the other empty bottles. Ignoring the knowing smirk from the party crasher as you did so. 

"Beer is kind of gross." 

"Yeah, it is." He chuckled, "but it's cheap and gets the job done." 

"I don't see the appeal," you said, following in stride with him down the beach. The sand beneath your sneakers making it hard to keep up with his long legs. "Can you walk slower?" 

"Sorry," he slowed his pace and you easily caught up. "Drink a bit more than a couple of sips next time and you will." 

"I'd rather waste the calories on chocolate, thank you." 

He laughed silently again and sucked the split in his lip, "What's your name?" 

"Uh, Y/N, you?" 

"Dean." He smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets again. "So, how come I haven't seen you around here before, Y/N?" 

"We just moved here," you said, not wanting to explain how you didn't exactly get out much and explore the town over the summer. 

"Then you haven't been to the pier?" He asked, cocking his head towards the end of the beach where you were headed. 

It wasn't so much a pier as it was a small row of shops and a parking lot. Some storefronts were still lit up against the darkened sky and a lighthouse sat on the rocks near the shore. The light at the top swung around and around over the jagged rocks reaching into the water. 

"Seriously? You wanted to show me a lighthouse? That's not exactly special. Lighthouses are a dime a dozen around here, if you haven't noticed." You said a little disappointed and glancing back at the party. 

The bonfire merely a speck amongst the stars along the beach now. If you accounted for the walk back it would definitely stretch over the five minutes you'd promised him and you stopped walking. 

Dean noticed when you fell behind and turned to you. He laughed a little and smiled, "That's not where we're going." 

He reached out to you and grabbed your hand, tugging you gently until you laughed and skipped a step. He was troubled, that was for sure, but you didn't have a reason not to trust him. Not that trust should be given easily without question; but still, you welcomed the warmth of his hand wrapped around yours as he led you across the parking lot and up to one of the shops. 

"Ice cream," you stared up at the sign before Dean pulled you into the store. 

"Mhm," he licked his lips, guiding you up to the display of tubs sitting in the freezer and separating you from the older blonde woman behind the counter. 

She nodded to Dean like she knew him and he smiled back, "Hey, Donna." She didn't react at all to the bruises on his face and your mind started to wander. 

"I was starting to think I wasn't gonna see ya before closing," she said, retying her pink apron as if she was getting ready to close up for the night. 

"You know me better than that," he feigned hurt and wrapped an arm over your shoulders, tugging you into his side. 

You scanned over the flavours, some so bright you wondered if it was possible to taste a colour. "Isn't it kinda cold for ice cream?"

"Never," Dean shook his head like you'd said something foolish. "These shops are seasonal and it's the last night they're open until they close for the winter. You'll have to wait at least four months before you get this again. And trust me, once you try it, winter will feel like an eternity for your tastebuds." 

You smiled, you couldn't argue with that logic, "What flavour should I get?" You asked, assuming he'd probably have tried them all by the looks of it. 

"My favourite is the mocha with all the little chocolate pieces. It's basic, I know, but classic." He pointed to a tub filled with dark brown speckled ice cream. 

"Two mochas, please." You said. 

"Sure thing," Donna said and scooped you out a couple of cups. 

Dean gave your shoulder a squeeze before giving you some space to enjoy your ice cream.  

He kept eyeing you as you took your first bite, then your second, "And?"

"Okay, you're right. It's fudging amazing! Can we get more?" You asked, glancing back at the shop from where you sat outside on a bench under a streetlamp. 

"You still have a whole cup.” He barked out a laugh and you shovelled a few spoonfuls into your mouth. 

A chilled throb wracked through your brain and you paused mid-bite to squeeze your eyes shut and fan at your frozen mouth. You pressed your tongue against the roof of your mouth and just as the feeling started to ebb away you felt hot, sticky lips lay flush against your forehead. Dean’s hand held the back of your head and you blinked open your eyes, feeling warm and fuzzy. 

"Better? My mom used to do that for me when I was a kid. Always seemed to help." He said and tilted his head to the side. 

You weren't sure if it was what he did or the shock of the unexpectedness of it, but it dulled the pain. He hadn't backed up an inch and you could see the gold flecks in his green eyes under the streetlamp. Framed by the yellow edges and purple patches of the bruising next to his left eye. His hair was sandy brown and short but still fell over his forehead and brushed the tips of his ears. And freckles speckled across the bridge of his nose on pale skin. He was pretty cute and different from most of the boys you usually met. 

You nodded and blushed, sneaking another spoonful of mocha ice cream between your lips. He laughed silently and leaned back, picking back up his own cup of ice cream from the bench next to him and digging in. 

"You're strange and kinda wonderful." You said around a bite full, pressing your tongue to the roof of your mouth when the brain-freeze threatened to come back. 

"That's oddly the nicest thing someone's said to me in a very long time." He took a bite and licked his spoon clean. 

"That makes me sad." 

"Makes me happy," he mumbled and smiled. 

"Like I said, strange." 

"Because you're so cool and composed, right?" He's teased, pointing with his spoon. 

"I'm a delight and you know it. That's why you just had to get me away from all those other guys down on the beach. Before they had the chance to notice too, of course." You joked, brushing your hair back when the breeze carried it away. 

"You caught me, I'm a sucker for a girl who tries to bite my head off with one wrong look." 

"You make me sound like a praying mantis." 

"In that case, I guess I'm safe as long as we don't have sex." You both frowned. "Sorry, that was awkward, I swear it sounded funnier in my head. Because you know they only eat their mate after-uh-mating..." He stuck his spoon in his ice cream and stirred until it was smooth like soup, "What?"

"You're blushing," you said, "it's cute." You liked being able to do that to him. "But you should know I'm sixteen." 

"Wait. What?" He looked like you'd just punched him in the gut. "But you were drinking." 

"When did you have your first beer?" 

He thought to himself for a moment, clearly he had been younger than you; then he abandoned his ice cream on the bench beside him. “What about your friends?” 

"Some are eighteen. But most are seventeen, same as my brother, they're his friends." You explained. "Don't ask me how they got the beer." You attempted to lighten the mood but he just stared down at his hands, rubbing at the cuts in his knuckles. "How old are you?" 

“Too old for you,” he shook his head and picked at one of the scabs. “Twenty-one in January.” 

So essentially there was a five year age gap between you. It wouldn’t be a big deal, if only you were older; but for now it didn’t mean you couldn’t be friends. Your gut twisted at the thought of never seeing him again and you could use a friend; and it looked like he could, too. 

Your cell rang and you fished it from your back pocket. Your brother's name sprawled over the screen. 

You sighed and rolled your eyes, then answered, "What do you want?"

"Are you stupid or stupid? Where the fuck did you go?!" He shouted and you were sure Dean could hear, so you turned down the volume on your phone. 

"For a walk." 

"We're leaving." 

That meant the blonde was tagging along, either hitching a ride home with you or your brother was just going to drop you off at home before taking her to park somewhere and... -You didn't want to think about it. Your brother, like that. Gross. 

"Maybe I don't wanna leave yet. I made a friend." Dean mirrored your smile. 

"Find your own way home then..." he grumbled a few choice words and hung up. Asshole.

"Any chance you have a car?" You asked, silencing your phone and shoving it back into your pocket. "I need a ride." 

"Uh- no. But I know where we can get one." Dean said as he checked the time on his wrist. You fingered your ice cream and booped him on the nose. "What was that for?" He laughed and wiped his nose with the back of his hand. 

You shrugged, "Just trying to lighten the mood. You look so sad," you raised his chin with your fingers, "Chin up, Dean." 

"Did you mean that?" He asked. 

You lowered your hand to rest on the bench between you, "Mean what?"

"That we're friends," he asked, chewing on the split in his lip. At this rate you didn't think it would ever heal over. "I mean, that we can be friends." 

"Uh-huh, unless you don't wanna be my friend." You nodded and searched his eyes, some kind of hurt flashing through them. 

"I think that's all we can be. At least, until you have a couple more birthdays." 

Your typical luck, the one guy you could see yourself interested in and he's too old. It was only nearly five years, sure, but you were only sixteen and he'd probably had a lot more experience that you couldn't compare to. But he was cute. 

Window shopping couldn't hurt right, until you had the means to buy. 

"I can wait," you teased and laughed. "But you look like you could use a friend. And I got your back, since I kind of owe you one for introducing me to this ice cream." 

"You don't owe me anything, Y/N." 

You shivered when the ice cream was gone and Dean stripped out of his hoodie, draping it over your shoulders as you walked along the side of the road towards his house. He apparently didn't live far away and if his father was home, he could 'borrow' his car to give you a ride. He actually used air quotes when he said borrow though, so you were a little skeptical. 

_________________________

Part 2

_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28

SPN: @hobby27

Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers @globetrotter28

[l0velysmut]

family: “why are you just sitting in ur room smiling at ur phone?”

me who’s been reading smut about fictional characters for the past 6 hours:

[colmiillo]

When y/n does something so cringe that i have to look at the invisible camera for a sec.