#dean winchester x original characters
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All fics are 18+ ONLY unless otherwise noted
SERIES
*at least three parts or chapters
28 Days - AU Dean Winchester x several AU SPN characters
Summary: Dean Winchester is an addict and an alcoholic, a USMC veteran, a father, and an older brother. As Battalion Chief with Lawrence Fire & Medical, Dean comes under investigation when he makes a dangerous and impulsive decision, defying his superiors and abandoning the team he is supposed to lead. He is given the choice to go to rehab for 28 days, or jail. His lawyer insists on rehab, and Dean begrudgingly abides.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Emma Winchester, Jack Kline, Victor Henriksen, Jo Harvelle, Gordon Walker, Bille, Crowley, Rowena, Missouri, Meg, Pamela, Gabriel, Lydia, Casey, Jamie, Carmen, Tessa
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, emergency action, fire, drug use, thoughts of death and dying, teen endangerment, references to underage drug addiction and prostitution, partially told through flashbacks
Words: 33K
Author’s notes: Inspired by the film 28 Days and following canon themes from SPN, this is a fic about Dean, a firefighter who goes to rehab, not about Dean as a firefighter.
And Then There Were Three - Winchester brothers x original female character
Summary: Natalie and Dean are in a “not serious” relationship until one night, she and Sam take a step that will change things forever.
Warnings/tags: 18+ONLY, rough sex, squirting, anal sex, butt plug, bondage, dirty talk, orgasm control, double penetration, polyamory, W*ncest adjacent
Words: 13,500
Black Tie Optional: sequel to Plus One - Dean Winchester x Vanessa (OFC)
Summary: The last time we saw Vanessa, she was swooning over Dean’s lasting impression. Now, we fast-forward a year to see what she’s up to.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC Vanessa Martinelli, (eventual) Sam Winchester x OFC Emma Olsen
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, HBO RomCom bullshit
Words: 17K
Combat Baby - Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle
Summary: canon divergent - Dean’s sweet, but Jo likes him nasty
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, rough sex, biting, dirty talk, brief name-calling, exhibitionism, role play, squirting
Words: 3,073 WORK IN PROGRESS
God Only Knows - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: One weekend, years ago, lives rent-free in both of their minds. Three-part mini-series.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, pining, clothed sex, couch sex, hungover sex, fluff, roomies to lovers, idiots in love
Words: 5,500
If We Make It Through December - Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum
Summary: Donna is horrified to learn that the boys have never had a proper Christmas, so she invites them to her house for the holiday.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Donna Hanscum, Sam Winchester, Jody Mills, Claire Novak, Kaia Nieves, Patience Turner, Alex Jones
Warnings/tags: there was no rebar, 18+ ONLY, fluff, light angst, domesticity, holiday celebrations
Words: 12K
The Kinda Girl You Like - Winchester brothers x original female character
Summary: After Sam reveals to Sofie his sub that he likes to watch, she decides that they should act on it. Then he tells her what exactly it is that he likes to watch…
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, sub-sharing, bondage, rimming, the jockey is my favorite sex position, dirty talk, W*ncest adjacent
Words: 6,500
Leaving Heaven - Dean Winchester x Taziana Smith (OFC)
Summary: Tazi is a bounty hunter of mostly human things. She isn’t firmly seated in the supernatural world, but she’s familiar enough that she’s recruited by an old friend of John Winchester’s to capture and deliver a brief acquaintance of her own.
Characters: MOC/Knight of Hell/Demon Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Crowley, Lee Webb, original characters
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, brief dub-con, mentions of the foster system, references to past rape, commiserating over childhood trauma, threats of sexual violence
Words: 16,500 WORK IN PROGRESS
The Mud On Your Boots - Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum
Summary: Dean and Donna finally give in.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, dirty talk, fluff, consent is sexy, period sex, fisting, blood as lube, shower sex
Words: 8k (permanent hiatus)
Plus One - Dean Winchester x Vanessa (OFC)
Summary: Vanessa hates weddings until she meets a handsome stranger who agrees to help her mix things up for the night.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, fingery things, squirting, and Dean has no refractory period bc this is fic
Words: 9,600
Pretty Reckless - MOC Dean Winchester x pre-slayer Faith Lehane
Summary: AU where s10 Dean stumbles upon another hunter so much like himself. When their connection grows inexplicably stronger, they find an answer they never thought existed.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Faith Lehane, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Crowley, Cain
Warnings/tags: 19+, rough sex, prostate massage, magical bond
Words: 15K
Run Me Like A River - AU Dean Winchester x AU Jessica Jones
Summary: AU wherein Jessica Jones is super-powered by gov’t experiments to create elite soldiers, the Winchesters are military officers in humanity’s War Against Evil, and they have all gone AWOL from their assigned roles. Dean and Jess embark on a relationship that ends abruptly and explosively until Dean calls her for help on a very personal case.
Characters: Jessica Jones, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Arthur Ketch, Malcolm is Jess’s cat
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, major character death, unhealthy relationship dynamics, bondage, rough sex, anal sex, ptsd
Words: 14K
Seasons - Dean Winchester x unnamed female character
Summary: She is his safe haven, untouched by anything else or anyone.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, canon divergent - no Cassie or Lisa, non-linear storytelling, four seasons, angst, hurt/comfort, references non-con unprotected sex, loss of a pregnancy
Words: 12K
Temporary Scars - Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum x Benny Lafitte
Warnings/tags: 18+, Angst, Donna has intimacy issues, Dean’s the sweetest, self-sabotage, sort of established relationship, Benny’s swoony as fuck, Dean’s in love, polyamory, pregnancy kink
Words: 4,500 (permanent hiatus)
Unopened At Your Feet - AU Sam Winchester x female narrator, AU Dean Winchester x female narrator
Summary: This is the story of how I broke my own heart.
Characters: Female Narrator, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Becky Rosen, Meg Masters, Benny Lafitte
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, weed-smoking, canon-compliant date-rape/roofie (Becky), love triangle
Words: 12,470 WORK IN PROGRESS
Where Is My Shiny Gun? - Dean Winchester x Donna Hanscum (voyeur Sam Winchester)
Summary: canon divergent - Sam finds himself in a quandary when he realizes he has feelings for Donna by way of the obvious mutual attraction between her and Dean.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, Sam is kinky, Dean is adorable, so is Donna, Dean likes to give Donna massages, Sam directing while masturbating, brief spanking + breast slapping, brief knife play - no blood, W*ncest adjacent
Word Count: 7,800
ONE-SHOTS
A Fight For Love & Glory - Winchesters x you (female)
Summary: You’re struck by sex pollen, so Sam and Dean agree to help you out.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, sex pollen, feelings of guilt, ass play, dirty talk, W*ncest adjacent
Words: 2K
Bad Girls Underneath - Ruby 2.0 x Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle
Summary: Ruby and Jojo get hit by a sex curse again; this time, they need Dean’s help.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, magical-dick/male-gaze bullshit, probably too much commentary and emotional complication, why am I like this, I’m sorry, sometimes I can’t help myself, fisting, brief choking
Words: 2,600
Cactus - Dean Winchester x Meg Masters x Castiel
Summary: Post-battle, exhausted and wanting, Dean and Meg and Cas take care of each other.
Warnings/Tags: 18+ ONLY, dreamlike sex, a little choking, Dean’s always hungry
Words: 3,200
Caveat Emptor - Dean Winchester x original female character
Summary: Gabriela Cruz invests in a Victorian mansion in the middle of America where the rule of Buyer Beware is absolute. When her twin sister goes missing, a couple of federal agents show up. Lucky for Gabi, Dean and Sam Winchester are on the case.
Characters: Gabriela Cruz, Camila Cruz, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Ed Zeddmore, Harry Spangler
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, language, mentions death of family members, cursed object, mentions of blood + gore, sarcasm, twin dynamics, explicit sex
Words: 4,600
Crazy On You – Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: You’ve had a shitty day, but this beautiful, unfamiliar boy will make it all better.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, Impala Sex, there’s a knife but not in a bloody way
Words: 4K
Crossroads and Bound - Dean Winchester x female demon reader
Summary: He agreed to this.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, femdom, Dean’s tied to a chair, wearing a cock ring, face sitting, things might get a little rough, but it’s all in good fun, squirting
Words: 2,250
The Curve Of Your Pretty Gown - Dean Winchester x female reader
Request: Hey hon! Ok, so it’s my birthday today, so maybe a story about Dean surprising me/ the reader by turning up unannounced to wish me/the reader a ‘happy birthday’ and there’s lots of smut ❤️
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, a little angst
Words: 2,200
Deep - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Dean shows you more about pleasure than ‘deep’.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, Dean being perfect, sensual massage, Dean being the best lay ever, biting, Dean being a fairytale prince, the jockey is my favorite sexual position, try it, it’s amazing, talking during sex, gratuitous use of terms of endearment bc it’s Dean
Words: 3K
Discord and Rhyme - Knight of Hell/Demon Dean x female reader
Summary: He’s on the prowl.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, rough anal sex, crying during sex, blood during sex, there’s a lot of purple prose and excessive descriptions of taste and smell here, sexual coercion, dirty talk
Words: 1,750
Ennui - Knight of Hell/Demon Dean x unnamed female character
Anonymous Prompt: “I really want demon dean stalking someone but I don’t know how to do that with consent? But guh just the thought of him.
Characters: Knight of Hell/Demon Dean Winchester x unnamed female character
Tags/warnings: 18+ only; this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester; stalking; exhibitionism; voyeurism; dirty talk; horny on aisle 3; fuck it, we ball
Words: 2,400
Equilibrium - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: They have balance.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, established relationship, cock warming
Words: 1,400
Get Down, Make Love - Winchester brothers x original female character
Summary: Steph decides to cut loose and push the envelope with her favorite fellow hunters.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, hot tubbing, drunk sex (consensual), dirty talk, mfm spitroast, W*ncest adjacent
Words: 3,200
Hark and Hush - Purgatory Dean x wolf spirit in a female body
Summary: This is the story of how Dean Winchester hunted, became enamored with, and slew the ancient spirit of the Big Bad Wolf.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, stalking, blood, gore, rough sex, character death
Words: 2,200
Hide Your Love Away – Dean Winchester x female hunter reader
Summary: Mutual hunters seek comfort for a night and a lifetime of memories.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, ass play
Words: 3,600
His Sword - Michael/Dean x female prostitute
Summary: Michael takes some time to remind Dean who’s in control.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, edge play, bondage, knife play, blood play, choking, rough sex, name-calling, character death
Words: 2,300
Just My Imagination - Dean Winchester x female Zanna
Summary: After Mary leaves the boys a second time, Dean needs a reset, or to blow off some steam – something. He heads out on a snowy evening the night before Christmas and finds just the right thing.
Warnings/tags: mature, Hallmark channel fuckery
Words: 2,800
One Night Only (23 in 1) - Dean Winchester x Mila (original female character)
Summary: While on a job in the middle of America, Dean enjoys a rigorous night of mutual gratification with a local art student.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, ass play, shower sex, dirty talk
Words: 5,500
River - Dean Winchester x Ty (Original male character), Dean x Benny implied
Summary: It’s Dean’s first winter after sending Benny back to Purgatory.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, implied underage prostitution, semi-public sex
Words: 1,600
Rules Are Rules - MOC Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Dean hasn’t been himself lately. The Mark has seen to that.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, hand around the throat, rough sex, squirting
Words: 2,400
Shattered Like A Stone - Demon Dean Winchester x original female character
Summary: The Mark is demanding, and the demon in Dean can’t deny it any more than he can deny her; it just might get everything it wants tonight.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother’s Dean Winchester, rough sex, bondage, multiple object insertion, suicidal ideation, darkfic, self-destruction, bloody sex, sadism and masochism, anal sex, Jameson as lube, spit as lube, face fucking, Daddy as title, misogynist language, choking, strangulation, assisted suicide
Words: 6,800
Some Stranger’s Hand - 2009 Dean Winchester x 2014 Risa (The End)
Summary: He lost everything.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, plush pink pillow lips for my Eloise
Words: 1,700
Spark, Flicker, Blaze - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Somewhere along the line, her life became something she didn’t like. On her 35th birthday, she makes a decision to change all of that.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, overly descriptive orgasms, Dean’s the best birthday present ever
Words: 2,200
Stuff & Thangs That Are Awesome… And Not Awesome - Dean Winchester x female character (1st person POV)
*TWD Crossover
Prompt(s): 1) Dean has been arrested twice for indecent exposure – once was in a grocery store. 2) Jensen or Dean x Reader, a small public place, he pins you to the wall, covers your mouth and fucks you.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Bobby Singer, Rick Grimes, Shane Walsh
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, Rick Grimes eye-fucking, Shane Walsh having a pissing contest with a young, cocky Dean Winchester
Words: 1,300
Supernova - MOC Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Since Dean’s had the Mark and the Blade, he’s pulled away from you, afraid of hurting you. You miss him, and you’ve had it. One night you push him to the edge.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, bondage, blood play, biting, bruising, knifeplay, rough sex, dubcon/mindfuck
Words: 2,500
Triptych - Dean Winchester x bisexual female couple
Summary: Dean’s on a case and meets two beautiful women. One of them is recently divorced, and the new couple invites Dean to help them kick off their new life together.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, sex toy, Dean’s real good at sex
Words: 4,700
Wait Till My Brother Gets Home - Winchester brothers x female reader
Summary: She wants to lose control.
Warnings/tags: 18+ Only, rough sex, hair pulling, mfm spit roast, bruising and chafing during sex, W*ncest adjacent
Words: 2,450
When We Fall Then We’ll Know Each Other - Dean Winchester x Benny Lafitte (voyeur Castiel)
Prompt: “There’s nothing wrong with women, but a woman can’t hold you down and fuck you like I can.”
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, cum and spit as lube, anal sex, voyeurism
Words: 1,400
QUICK AND DIRTY
*1K words or less
Barbed Wire Carnival - Choose your own Winchester
Summary: Absence of feeling.
Warnings/tags: mature, angst, dark descriptions
Words: 300
Brimstone - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: He’s exactly what she wants.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY surprise, bitch
Words: 450
Bring It On Home - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Let’s pretend Dean wouldn’t be terrified to welcome love into his life.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, established relationship, comfort, fluff, handsy Dean
Words: 1K
Communion - Dean Winchester x female reader
prompt: Fluffy dean or Jensen smoking weed plz, ty
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, marijuana use
Words: 1K
Crash Through The Surface - Dean Winchester x Jasen (original male character)
Summary: Dean remembers his First.
Warnings/tags: mature, bi-sexual Dean, references to prostitution
Words: 800
Custard Pie - Dean Winchester x female reader
Prompt: Dean/OFC based on Led Zeppelin’s ‘Custard Pie.’
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY oral sex
Words: 800
Drag You To The Shore - Dean Winchester x GN reader
Prompt: Dean Winchester settled in between someone’s legs on the bed. Like his back to their chest, their legs wrapped around him, heels keeping his thighs open while they jerk him off, explicit but soft vibes.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY
Words: 800
Fall Away Into - Dean Winchester x Ruby 2.0 x female reader (voyeur Sam Winchester)
Prompt: “Dean x reader x Ruby 2.0 with Sam watching from the corner.”
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY drug-induced sex, OOC Dean, mff spit roast, use of the word bitch during sex, rough sex, hate sex, W*ncest adjacent
Words: 530
Foxholes - Annie Hawkins x Bobby Singer/Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Summary: Annie recalls time spent with each man and what their facial hair told her about them.
Warnings/tags: mature language and references to sexual activity
Words: 349
The Gazelle - AU Dean Winchester x AU Benny Lafitte x female reader
Summary: They aim to please.
Warnings/tags: mature, power exchange, Denny apparent
Words: 1K
The Good Slayer - Dean Winchester x Faith Lehane
Prompt: Dean and our girl Faith. (This is a sequel of sorts for Pretty Reckless.)
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, talking during sex
Words: 800
Hollow - MOC Dean Winchester x female reader
prompt: Would anyone be willing to write something with Dean [or Jensen] x reader to the song Love on the Brain by Rihanna
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, dirty talk, rough sex, angst
Words: 1K
I’ll Keep Them Still - Dean Winchester x Jo Harvelle
Summary: Dean remembers promises and pictures in his mind. And he remembers her.
Warnings/tags: mature, songfic, angst, dream/afterlife sequences, purple prose, I’m sorry
Words: 1K
Just One More Peaceful Day - MOC Dean Winchester x female reader
Prompt: angsty Dean with the line “I can still remember just the way you taste” from the song “It’s been a while” by Staind
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, blood play, knife play, mentions of addiction
Words: 700
Laissez Les Bons Temp Rouler - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: He’s got a dirty mouth when he’s drunk.
Warnings: 18+ ONLY, dirty talk, a dirty public bathroom during Mardi Gras
Words: 600
Lifting the Veil - Choose Your Own Winchester
Summary: You’ve been missing something of paramount importance - until now.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, infidelity, squirting
Words: 1K
Mind Blown - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Mind-blowing orgasms can sometimes be literal.
Warnings/tags: mature, transient global amnesia after sex, dirty talk
Words: 560
Nihilism - Knight of Hell/Demon Dean x female reader
Prompt: Can you tell me about the morning after going several rounds with Dean he rolls over in bed and adjusts the covers, causing you to forget your shift to be his good girl a couple more times?
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY, this is not your mother's Dean Winchester, name-calling, rough sex, nihilistic themes, Knight of Hell Dean, fantasies of being fucked to death? Idk it’s one of mine, might as well be yours, you’re female AFAB in this scenario
Words: 800
One For Tomorrow, One Just For Today - Dean Winchester x female reader
Prompt: before leaving on a hunt, Dean sings “Love Me Two Times” to his lady.
Warnings/tags: 18+ ONLT, Dean can actually sing, and he does it during sex
Words: 660
The Prerogative To Have A Little Fun - Donna Hanscum x Jody Mills x Winchester brothers (kinda)
Prompt: Donna’s visiting Jody for the weekend and the boys swing by on their way home from a hunt. Dean mows the lawn, Sam fixes a leaky shower head, Dean makes dinner, and they both do the dishes. Meanwhile, the ladies sit back and enjoy the domestic display.
Warnings/tags: mature, men doing manly things, inspired by Shania Twain’s song “Man! I Feel Like A Woman”, W*ncest adjacent
Words: 1K
Recompense - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: Dean is sorry for hurting the ones he loves.
Warnings/tags: mature, angst, Dean saying hurtful things then trying to make up for it
Words: 500
Scream - Dean Winchester x past-female reader
Summary: Dean tells us the real reason he loves “All Saint’s Day” as much as he does.
Warnings/tags: mature, references to coming untouched, getting turned on by scary movies
Words: 320
Soft Cell - Dean Winchester + teenage female
Prompt: Dean + reader dancing in the bunker
Warnings/tags: one F-bomb bc Dean
Words: 720
Through The White Night - AU Dean Winchester x original female character
Summary: 18th Century matrimony isn’t as simple as it is today.
Warnings/tags: mentions of wall sex and finger-y things
Words: 560
Wish - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: You want it to be love – but it isn’t. You want him – but you can’t have him.
Warnings/tags: mature, sepia-toned angst ™ @boondoctorwho
Words: 765
With Pleasured Hands - Dean Winchester x female reader
Summary: He’s got secrets she has yet to uncover
Warnings/tags: mature
Words: 500
#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x original characters#dean winchester x jessica jones#dean winchester x faith lehane#dean winchester x spn characters
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The Honorable Choice - Part 1
Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for this @jacklesversebingo prompt.
Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU
Song Inspo: The Spirit Soundtrack
Word Count: 4.6K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only to be safe. Racism/racial slurs, attempted sexual assault (not successful), protective Dean, angst, some violence and some action.
🐎 Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist
🎙️ Listen to the podfic version here!
Part 1: Pride & Prejudice
June 1872
Dean hears some of his men shouting, along with the telltale cracking of bone that would make a less seasoned soldier wince. He spares a look to Benny, his Lieutenant, and sets down his glass of whiskey.
Dean’s path takes him brusquely out of his office and toward the stables. He grabs his gun and his hat on the way there, setting the latter on his head.
Is it too much to ask for one night where he can drink in peace?
Dean comes to find a young woman being detained by two of his men, Kline and Novak. Roman sports a bloody nose and his eye is already beginning to swell. The woman fights against their hold.
Even under the pale moonlight, Dean notes the way she’s dressed: a deer skin dress cinched at the waist, over thin pants and shoes. He surveys her tan skin, her black hair that blends into the night, twisted into a long braid, and the anger in her dark eyes.
“What have we got here?” Dean says. He stows his gun in its holster as he approaches her, resting his hands at his belt.
“I caught her breaking into the stables, Captain,” Roman says. He prods with a hiss at his busted nose while trying to stem the bleeding. That’s going to be a bad break.
She remains tight lipped, stubborn.
“Probably doesn’t even understand English. Savage bitch,” he says. Dean shoots him an impassive look to cover up his annoyance.
“Put a cork in it, Roman,” he orders. Then, he focuses back on her. “You’re a Lakota, aren’t you?”
Aside from their main mission here in the Dakota Territory, the Colonel has been fixed on fighting back against the Lakota Indians, especially after they sabotaged the supply line last month.
The proud tilt of the woman’s chin is her only answer to Dean’s question. Her gaze drags down his form with disdain, like he’s the savage. His mouth twitches mirthlessly.
“The Lakota rear up their own horses pretty damn well. Why would you want to steal one of ours?” he asks.
She glances away from him, first at her feet, then over at the camp’s latest “guest.” Dean, Benny, and a few of his men wrangled up a horse a few days ago. He’s a beautiful Kiger mustang with a nasty mean streak. He barely got through a trim this afternoon, and almost took a chunk out of Rufus when he tried to brand the horse.
The Colonel ordered them to tie the horse up to a post just outside the corral—no food or water for three days. He’d turned to Dean with a firm set to his face and issued a single order.
“Break him.”
Now, Dean catches the furtive look the Lakota woman gives the horse, who flicks his tail. The animal stares right at her, as if into her eyes.
“Oh, don’t tell me you here for him,” Dean says with a chuckle. “That thing’s a little too much for you, sweetheart.”
That earns her attention, steely and unimpressed.
“He is too much for you,” she says. Her voice is smooth, and would even be pleasant, if not for the circumstances. “He is one of ours. You will never break him.”
Dean's eyes widen a fraction. He glances back at the mustang.
So that's why she's here, he thinks. She's trying to mount a rescue. Dean feels a twinge deep inside, but he can't allow himself to care about that. They've collected a strong horse that will be a good support for their objectives here, once he's broken.
“Ah, well see,” Dean says, tipping his Stetson up to meet her gaze. “That’s kind of our specialty.”
“Sir, should we take her to the stockade?” Novak asks. He seems reluctant to do so to a woman, even an Indian, but he’s always been good at following orders.
Dean opens his mouth to reply, but another voice cuts him off. Colonel Asmodeus Sanderson steps out and takes a look at their captive.
“Not the stockade,” he says, with that Southern drawl that betrays his Kentucky roots. “Not yet.”
He approaches her with a slow, calculated gait. His hands gather behind his back. Dean gives her credit for looking Sanderson in the eye. She seems rightly wary, but not afraid.
“We won’t hurt you. I give you my word,” the Colonel says, “if you’ll lead us to your people’s camp.”
He takes a hold of her chin, turning her face this way and that, like he’s examining a dirty animal, and all that he’ll have to do to make it clean. She spits in his face.
Dean bites the inside of his lip against a smile. She’s got as much fight in her as the mustang. However, he has to school his face back into stoicism when Sanderson rears back in anger.
The harsh smack rings out in the clearing, along with the woman’s cry. Dean doesn’t allow himself to outwardly react, but inside, his spine tightens as he fights his instincts.
Only Kline and Novak’s hold on her arms keeps her upright. She pants for breath, but again, she meets the Colonel with a face that doesn’t give away anything, despite the reddening mark on her cheek.
“The post,” he barks. “Three days. No food or water.”
Dean is kept busy by his duties. He makes sure the camp is running in order, accepting shipments of supplies and ammunition, among other things. Cas Novak is in charge of the stables, caring for the horses and putting them through their training. Jack Kline is young and strong and a good assistant, along with others in his unit.
Right now, Dean and Benny are going over the plans with Colonel Sanderson for continuing construction on the railroad, from here to the Black Hills. It’s a path that cuts straight through Sioux territory—the bands of Dakota and Lakota Indians that occupy the land.
“The natives are fightin’ us tooth and nail,” Sanderson says. “But maybe our guest will be able to help us…negotiate.”
Dean remains quiet, ignoring yet another uneasy twinge in his gut. He didn’t join the army to fight the Indians. He doesn’t always understand their way of doing things, but he understands why they fight—to protect their land, and to protect their own. It’s the same reason Dean fights, when he has to.
He joined the army because…well, it felt like the right thing to do at the time. His father had been a Cavalry Major, and he’d died an honorable death, now about a decade past.
Has it really been ten years? Christ.
Dean wipes his brow. Even with the windows open, the office is humid and smells like ass. He glances outside, where both the mustang and the woman are tied to their posts under a sweltering sun at high noon.
Not for the first time, Dean wonders what his dad would think of him now.
After the meeting, Dean and Benny fall into step together to inspect the camp. The summer sun shines hot on their blue uniforms, and occasionally they raise their hats to mop the sweat from their brows.
Things are running as usual, but many of the men’s eyes occasionally turn to the posts. Dean’s attention wanders there too without him realizing, catching on the woman’s dark hair. It shines even blacker in the sunlight, like a raven’s wing. He knows the shade because his dad used to have a feather kept in his journal, like a bookmark.
“You okay, brother?” Benny asks. Dean realizes what he’s doing, and his attention returns to the task at hand. Get it together.
Always forward, never backward.
“Just fine,” Dean replies. Benny gives him a knowing look.
“A bit unsavory, ain’t it?” he says. “Keeping her chained up without even a lick of water.”
“The Indians are getting smarter, bolder. They’re ambushing our men, going after our supply lines, and now, stealing our horses,” Dean says. “This is strategy.”
Benny shrugs slightly, making a sound of agreement. Dean hesitates, his gloved fingers flexing against his sides.
“If she was a man, you guys wouldn’t give a shit about putting a bullet through her head,” Dean says.
Benny’s gaze shifts downward. He doesn’t reply, but he concedes the point all the same.
They continue their route, and Dean keeps the rest of the conversation on the work at hand.
Mila has gone far longer without drink, but the sun is particularly unforgiving today. She’s prayed and prayed for even one cloud to glide overhead and shield her for a while. It’s not much better for her companion. He paces in place, occasionally tugging his head against the rope that binds him to his post.
She makes a clicking sound at the horse, getting his attention. She calls him by his name, and his ears flicker in her direction. He offers her a short whinny in response.
“I see you, Mato. I am with you,” she says in her native tongue. She hopes the sound of her voice will soothe him. He looks tired and hungry, but his eyes flick hard and untrusting on any man who comes near him. His spirit isn’t broken.
“Hey! Shut the hell up over there,” Roman shouts at her from where he and Cas are taking a short lunch break. Cas gives him a certain look, crossed mostly with annoyance.
Mila resists the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she closes them and tilts her face back to the sun. In a way, it feels cleansing. Maybe it can wash away the stench of the White Men’s hands on her body, manhandling her, checking her for weapons.
She spends the rest of the day watching the camp. One of their leaders, the Green Eyed One, called this a fort. It does look fortified, with tall walls made of thick wood constructed to form a cage—whether to keep others out, or to keep the men and horses in.
She identifies the Colonel as their chief, of a kind. Green Eyes is second in command, followed by the Bearded One with a strange voice. Even the scruffy Blue Eyed One has some authority, mostly over the Child Faced One. There are too many others to rank them all, but she knows the Loud Mouthed One is arrogant, even after she broke his nose. The way he carries himself, he clearly thinks he has more power than he actually has.
In her mind, Mila conjures up different plans of escape. All of them fall short in some way. The men didn’t find all of her weapons; a small knife is hidden deep in her boot. She could saw at her binds within an hour, but even with Mato to carry her out and away, the problem is escaping this camp without alerting the men. Without getting shot.
She has three days to think.
That night, the moon refuses to give her clarity. Her stomach is too empty, her throat too dry, her tongue thick in her mouth. Her attention shifts in and out of consciousness, until the sound of boots crunching in the dirt trills unease down her spine. More alert, she sits up straighter.
The Loud Mouthed One. The one they call Roman comes to taunt her, offering her water, then drinking for himself instead. He comes closer to examine her. He has a small bind over his broken nose.
“You know, you’re a pretty one,” he says, taking another cold sip as his gaze drags over her form. “For a wild thing.”
His face nears hers, clean shaven, though his thin smile reminds her of a rattlesnake. Dread and repulsion churn at odds in her stomach as she realizes what he's really here for. It doesn't matter if he truly wants her, or just wants to pay her back for his face. Either way, he means to take her here in the dirt.
She looks away, not wanting to let him see her fear, or the dread tightening her stomach, rising into her throat. He winds long fingers into her hair. At first the hold is gentle, deceptive. Then it's tight against her scalp. She hisses in pain when he tugs her head back and forces her to look at him. Her breathing quickens as she tries to pull away.
He draws in close to try and claim her in a kiss, but she head-butts him, hard.
He cries out and stumbles back, his flask falling to the ground.
He angrily grabs her and hauls her up to her feet. He pushes her hard against the post and unbuckles his belt, just to stuff it in her mouth. With his free hand, he begins to undo his pants.
She refuses to cry out, even though she spits out his belt and fights him, trying to kick out his knees.
Suddenly, the man’s body is ripped away from her. Mila loses her footing and falls to the dusty ground, sliding against the wooden beam she’s tied to. The wind is knocked out of her, but when she raises her head, she watches with wide eyes as the Green Eyed One beats the other man into the dirt. It doesn’t take much, just a few well-placed fists.
Roman lies there catching his breath, and he spits a wad of phlegm and blood. His left eye will match his nose, that’s for sure.
Green Eyes looks angry and disgusted. He huffs and puffs while staring down at his subordinate. He pushes back his short brown hair and points an ungloved hand at Roman.
“Get back to the goddamn barracks. You’re gonna be mucking out stalls until shit’s coming out of your ears,” he growls.
Roman doesn’t argue, though it’s obvious that he wants to. He just picks himself up, makes a show of straightening up his open uniform jacket while catching his breath. He walks past Green Eyes with a resentful, angry look. Green Eyes watches him until he disappears inside.
Then, he turns to her. His gaze softens somewhat, but it’s still unreadable. He crouches down in front of her, resting his arms on his thighs. Mila’s gaze briefly falls to his hands. They’re calloused, the hands of a laboring man. He carries himself like a warrior.
“Sorry about that,” he says.
It’s not what she expected. Mila eyes him warily when he moves closer. She presses her back against the post until it hurts her spine. He raises up his hands placatingly.
“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says.
“That is what your Colonel said,” she says. Her voice cracks with dryness. “I didn’t believe him either.”
His lips flicker at a rueful smile. It wrinkles crow’s feet around his eyes, breaking his stony face.
“Fair enough.”
He reaches for his belt and retrieves a flask, similar to the one his subordinate carried. He extends it out to her.
“It’s water, unless you prefer whiskey. I know I do,” he says.
She raises a brow at him, but hearing the sloshing inside the flask, her thirst takes over her wariness, and even her pride. She tentatively leans forward. He brings it closer so she can press her lips to the opening. Despite his Colonel’s orders, he lets her drink as much water as she’s able. When she’s done, he pockets the flask and sighs, running a hand through his hair.
“What’s your name?” he asks.
That, she will not give him. Names are sacred to her people, and this man, while seeming to have a shred of honor, isn’t worthy.
“Don’t wanna even tell me your name?” he says. He nods slightly. “Okay, well, I’m Dean. Captain Winchester, to this band of delinquents.”
He gestures around the camp with a dismissive hand. Mila only watches him. She’s never seen a White act like this, breaking his leader’s rules, being…kind.
What a strange man.
But if he had any real convictions, he would untie her and let her go, along with Mato. She won’t hold her breath.
Dean’s brows raise up toward his hairline, and his full lips form a pout. Realizing he’s not going to get anything more from her, he lets out a tired huff and straightens up.
“Well, goodnight,” he says.
He finally leaves her alone, but she can’t help but follow the swaggering path of his bowed legs and heavy boots. They carry him away and back indoors.
A strange man.
By the morning of the third day, Dean is ready to do what he does best. Or at least, one thing he does best.
He’s no stranger to horses. He grew up on a farm in Lawrence, Kansas, where he and his brother would help take care of the animals. Dean was older, so he helped his father till the land and train the horses. Sometimes he and Sam would sneak off and race their favorite ones, until their mom called them back for dinner.
In fact, part of what earned Dean his rank in the U.S. Cavalry was how well he could command a horse. His own is resting in the stables.
Today, he’s getting in the ring with the mustang.
…Well, not right away. He lets a few of his guys go first to tire him out. Even after three days of no food or water, the horse is living up to his bad attitude. He bucks each of them off after just a few seconds in the corral. Dean can tell it’s becoming a kind of game for the horse. His dun-colored coat shines in the sun, his brown socked legs kicking up dust and manure as he brays angrily at whoever tries to mount him.
Dean notices the Lakota woman watching with an amused smile on her face while she sits with her hands tied to her post. She’s enjoying the show, like she knew this would happen. It seems to give her energy every time another man is thrown off the horse and limps out of the ring.
Dean shakes his head. Pitiful.
He puts two gloved fingers to his mouth and whistles the entire clearing to attention. He saves Kline the chance to bruise his spine and pats him on the shoulder. Dean steps into the corral and positions himself into the stirrups, wrapping the reins around his hand. The horse is breathing hard, but he’s not done. He’s still got fight in him. Dean sees it in his brown eyes.
“All right, mustang. You’re big and bad. I get it,” Dean says lowly. “But I don’t scare easy. Gimme your best damn shot.”
Cas and Benny give him wary looks from where they stand outside the gate.
“Hold onto your hat, Cap,” Benny mutters.
Dean adjusts his hat and rests his gun on the post for safe keeping. He wants to feel as natural as possible, like it’s just him and this horse, out back in his family farm. He holds on tight to the reins. He’s fully prepared for how the mustang takes off at a galloping clip around the ring. He twists and bucks, but Dean claps his thighs tight and holds on for the ride.
The horse gets smarter.
He runs for the water trough just outside the ring. He slams Dean against the side of it once, twice—and manages to throw him off, with Dean landing right in the water trough.
He bursts out from the dirty water, sopping wet and spluttering in anger. He looks over at the horse trotting around, whinnying and tossing his head like he’s laughing. Dean can’t help it. His anger fades, and he smiles.
This guy’s got some brass balls, I’ll give him that.
The Lakota woman laughs. Dean hears it and his head swivels toward her. She bites her lip, but she knows she’s been caught. Despite his injured pride, Dean’s lips curve with a smirk. Just gonna laugh at me, huh?
“I see things are going well,” comes a familiar drawl.
Dean’s face falls as he looks up and finds Colonel Sanderson. Dean pulls himself out of the trough and tries to squeeze some water out of his uniform. He clears his throat.
“Well, uh, it’s going, sir. Just gonna take a little more time than I thought,” Dean says. He quickly reclaims his hat from the ring, giving the mustang a smart berth. After he climbs back out, he goes over to the post where he left his pistol.
“Hold him steady,” Sanderson barks out the order, but not at Dean. The other men wrangle the horse back into the pen, where Sanderson climbs up and mounts the horse himself.
To his credit, he stays on longer than even Dean thought he would. The mustang gallops and circles. He tries slamming Sanderson on the sides of the corral, tries bucking him and bucking him, but the man clings on, even when his hat falls into the dirt.
The horse is exhausted. He eventually stops in the middle of the ring, panting for breath, his legs shaking slightly. Dean straightens at attention.
So does the Lakota woman, he notices. She looks worried, her brows furrowing.
Sanderson swipes a hand over his graying hair and moustache to collect himself. He raises his head with an arrogant smile.
“You see, gentlemen. Any horse can be broken,” he says. He kicks the horse with his spur. “Move along, mustang.”
To everyone’s amazement, the horse obeys him. He moves forward at a slow clip. All the men applaud, even Dean, belatedly.
“There are those in Washington who believe the West will never be settled,” Sanderson continues. “The Northern Pacific Railroad will never breach Nebraska.”
His gaze draws over to the woman. Her eyes are filled with tears as she watches the Colonel makes his rounds.
“A hostile Lakota,” he says in derision, “will never submit to providence.”
She stares back at him with steel in her watery eyes.
Dean doesn’t realize his jaw is clenched tight until he feels the strain in his jaw. He forces himself to relax, with his hand on his dampened belt.
“And it’s that kind of small thinking that would say this horse would never be broken,” Sanderson says. “Discipline, time, and patience. That’s all you need to level a wild thing.”
Just then, the horse stops abruptly.
“Mustang?” Sanderson asks in warning.
Dean tenses. He knows what’s about to happen.
“Sir!” he calls out.
But it’s too late.
The stallion revs and charges, bucking even wilder than before. He swings his head and rears back high on his hind legs with a powerful bray. Sanderson yells in fear and strain, but he stays on the creature’s back.
The horse’s angry eyes take on a darker shade of conviction. When all four of his hooves hit the ground, he finally bucks hard enough to get the Colonel off his back, though he still clings to the reins near the animal’s head. He comes face to face with the horse’s crazed eyes. His own are wide and full of terror.
Hot breath heats Sanderson’s face. Then the horse swings his head and tosses the man out of the ring. In the process, the horse falls on his side and shatters a section of the wooden beams that fenced him in.
While he shakes his head and gets his hooves under him, Dean and Benny help the Colonel up to his feet. His uniform is a wreck, and now, with a bruised body and likely a couple of broken ribs, the man is fuming.
Kline and Roman wrangle the horse’s reins and keep him more or less in place. The Colonel shoves Dean and Benny off of him. He reaches for his gun at his belt and aims it at the mustang. Dean goes rigid in shock, but he knows he can’t interfere. If he does, it could warrant some major discipline.
The Colonel pulls the hammer back on the revolver, but before he can pull the trigger, the sound of cutting rope and a feminine yell breaks the silence in the clearing. The Lakota woman pulls the Colonel’s arms down, and the gun goes off into the ground. Her elbow comes up quick to strike the man between the eyes. He careens back into Benny, who catches him.
Meanwhile, the woman swings up onto the mustang. She grabs a stronghold by the neck and barks something in her native language. It spurs the horse onward, and he breaks through the crowd of men at a gallop.
Dean watches with widening eyes and furrowing brows. “Shit!”
He runs to the stables where he finds Baby waiting for him. Her black coat ripples as she stamps impatiently.
“Come on, sweetheart,” he beckons. He leads the mare out of the stable, and after grabbing a coil of rope from the supply bench, he mounts her smoothly. With a subtle kick of his heel, she picks up speed to follow the mustang and his rider.
They’re already approaching the gate where the men are quickly trying to close it. There’s still a window of opportunity for escape, but not only is Dean on their heels, Roman also stands on a pile of crates filled with iron parts that are due to be shipped out in the morning for continued construction on the railroad. Roman holds a rifle. He trains his weapon on the woman, taking deadly aim.
Dean’s jaw clenches and his brows furrow. He knows then, in the breadth of a few seconds, that he has to make a choice. If he does nothing, both she and the horse are as good as dead.
Sam used to call him reckless, stubborn as the horses he spent long hours taming.
Right about now, his brother is probably right.
Dean reaches for his gun, aims, and shoots within the span of those seconds. Roman goes down before he even knows what hits him. His chest plumes with blood after he slides down the crates and flops heavy to the ground. His eyes stare unseeing at the crisp blue sky.
The mustang tears through the narrow opening in the gate, and Dean isn’t far behind. The woman is an excellent rider, far better than he expected her to be. She clings to the horse’s neck and mane, and she doesn’t even use the stirrups. She clings on when the horse leaps over rocks, and when she notices Dean tailing her, she urges the horse at an even faster gallop.
Dean’s face furrows with determination. Baby is built for speed too.
He gives her a little kick with his heel. “Come on, Baby. Go!”
He’s able to keep up with the mustang just a few yards behind, even when they reach rougher terrain, going further up and into a canyon. He follows them through every curve and dip, guiding his horse just as much as she's guiding him.
Dean takes his rope in hand and turns it above his head, but his attempt to lasso the mustang's neck fails; the woman saws straight through the rope with her knife.
"Damn it!" Dean mutters.
He's forced to let go of his frayed rope when he and Baby nearly careen off the edge of a cliff. His heart settles high in his throat as he grits his teeth, but he pulls back on the reins hard and leans in the opposite direction. Baby's able to bank left, saving them from a long way down to certain death.
They continue up the narrow path the mustang has trod ahead. It carves around and through the mountain.
Dean mentally grasps for a plan, aside from just keeping up. Without even a bit of rope, he doesn’t know how he’s going to slow the woman down without hurting her or the horse. He doesn’t want to have to use his gun.
Eventually, the canyon breaks into a patch of desert, and then, grassy plains and tall forest trees. The mustang begins to tire and slow to a stop. His rider murmurs soothing things to him, stroking his neck. She turns back to look at Dean over her shoulder in dismay. She knows she’s caught.
“All right, sweetheart. That’s enough,” Dean says.
He sidles up next to her and intends to grab the mustang’s reins.
That’s when her swift kick comes, dead in his forehead.
AN: And here we go! 😅 Feels right that November is Native American Indian Heritage Month. 🫶🏽 For that reason especially I've done my best to do the Lakota people justice, even in this little series and complete work of fiction.
There's a lot packed in this first chapter, and yep, I did borrow a bit of scene from one of the best scenes in Spirit as an homage. From here on out, we're literally going off road...
Next Time:
Dean falls out of his saddle with a yell, landing hard in the grass. The impact knocks the air out of his chest and his hat off his head, not to mention the pain that rattles down his back.
“Son of a bitch,” he wheezes, while trying to get back up.
The woman jumps down from the mustang’s back and all but leaps on Dean. Straddling his waist and grabbing a fistful of his collar, she lets out a battle cry and raises a small knife at him. It’s probably no more than two inches long.
Dean may be on the ground with a smarting forehead, but he’s still got the upper hand. He grabs her knife-wielding arm and whips out his pistol from his belt. Her eyes widen, and she stills above him. The gun lies between them, aimed for her chest. They’re both breathing hard.
Dean has a problem.
Looking into her eyes, soulful and brown, the slope of her nose and her full lips, parted with shock…
▶️ Keep Reading: PART 2
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The Meet Cute
Pairing: Dean x Reader
Summary: 99% of the time drinking leads to nothing but bad decisions and regret in the morning. But, what about the other 1% of the time?
Word count: 1786
Prompt: 'Hugged the wrong person from behind'
AN: Hey guys this is my first submission for @jacklesversebingo 2024 Bingo card. It is my first time doing one of these and I'm super excited to see what my brain comes up with! It's a challenge for sure but I hope you guys can enjoy the ride with me.
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You winced a little at the burn of the whisky sliding down your throat. It was very much welcomed though, and so were the other two shots you’d done just before.
Not only was it your sister's wedding, but you were her maid of honour and wedding planner. In her defence, it was your profession, so planning and weddings were two things you did well. But the added pressure of it being your baby sister's day and wanting it to be perfect had given you little room to breathe.
Though, once the initial ceremony had ended and you made sure all the guests had arrived and settled in at the afterparty, you finally took a moment to take that breath, aided by the sweet nectar of alcohol. In hindsight, it probably wasn’t your best idea to drink such a strong beverage on an empty stomach, as it wasn’t long until its side effects commandeered your body, mind, and actions.
As you looked around at everyone enjoying themselves on the dance floor, your sister included, it brought a sense of relief and warmth knowing you made her day special. However, there was one face missing, and that was the face of your best friend, Matty. You’d been busy up to your eyeballs all day with arrangements, making sure people arrived on time and showing them where to go; you hadn’t even been able to see him yet, let alone say hello.
You knew his flight this morning was delayed, so he had to miss the ceremony, but he was on schedule to make the party at least. Though even your sister or family hadn’t seen him. The last text he sent was to tell you that he’d landed, and that was nearing 2 hours ago. You deflated at the thought that he might miss this too. Matty was always the life of the party, ever since you’d met him your freshman year of college. Although you didn’t see each other as often as you’d liked, living in different cities and leading busy lives and all, you were always guaranteed a great time when he was around.
However, as you finished your fourth shot, it was then you spotted someone at the other end of the bar. You had to squint a little through your gradually blurring vision, but you were certain it was him. He had his back to you, and he looked a little more built than when you last saw him, but he was already chatting away to some ridiculously handsome, tall guy you didn’t recognise; who was exactly his type, and was easily someone he’d be distracted by.
Pushing aside the fact he hadn’t come to see you first, with giddy excitement you pushed away from the bar, steadying yourself briefly as your head spun a little, but wasted little time as you wonkily made your way towards your best friend.
Foregoing the formalities and for the sudden need to hold onto something, you hugged him tightly from behind. He was definitely firmer than you remembered, and he smelt amazing, but Matty always did.
“I’m so glad you’re here.” You sighed happily as you snuggled into his back, the effects of the alcohol well and truly in control. “And when did you get so fit?” You exemplified your point by patting his toned stomach with a giggle.
“Y/N? What are you doing?” Your hand paused, and your eyes snapped open at the questioning voice of your best friend. It took you a moment to realise it hadn’t come from the body you were currently clung to, but from your right. Dread suddenly filled you as you slowly turned your head and were met with the amused face of your best friend.
With a gasp, you jumped away from the stranger, losing your footing as you did. Thankfully the stranger grasped your arm before you could go down, not that it would make this situation any less embarrassing if you had. Though what did make it worse was when you finally looked up at said stranger and saw, quite possibly, the most attractive man you’d ever seen in your life.
He had the most captivating pair of green eyes you’d ever seen and a smattering of freckles covering his nose and cheeks. A stubbled jawline that could cut glass, and he was staring down at you with much of the same amusement your best friend had.
“So, strangers are getting touched up before me now?” Matt teased as he walked over to you, shattering the little staring contest you and green eyes had gotten into. He let go of your arm quickly and took a polite step back at Matt’s presence, and you had to force yourself to look away from him.
Your cheeks reddened at Matty’s remark, and you only wished for the floor to swallow you whole. Matty slung an arm over your shoulder and hugged you to him, which you half returned in your traumatised state.
“I’m honestly so sorry; I’ve had a bit to drink and really thought you were him,” you jab a thumb in Matt’s direction, to which he bursts out laughing.
“If you were really thinking that, then you must be drunk.” He laughs, and you can’t help but join in on the absurdity of the situation along with the other two men.
“Honestly, don’t sweat it; it’s made my night, that’s for sure.” The handsome stranger waves you off with a chuckle, and his voice is deep and husky and does an array of things to you. ‘Seriously Y/N? Get yourself together’.
You smile thankfully at him, relieved he found the funny side of it despite the crippling embarrassment you were currently feeling.
“So, how do you both know the bride?” Matty speaks up, and you want to smack him so hard. You were hoping to make your escape and hide in the restroom for the rest of the night, not prolong your suffering.
“My brother Sammy here works with the groom.” Green eyes pats the tall one on the back, and you note his tight-lipped smile at the obvious nickname. It makes your lips twitch in amusement.
“We’re junior partners at KS Attorney’s.” Sam adds and you nod in acknowledgment.
“And what about you?” You find yourself asking before you could even stop yourself. Green eyes looks at you, his eyes sparkling as a sly smirk lifts his noticeably plump lips. ‘Or did you just notice that? Focus Y/N!’
“Well, I’m just here to crash the wedding." He grins proudly, “Meet a few of the bridesmaids.” He winks at you, and you scoff.
“Well, I don’t mean to burst your bubble,” you pause for him to give you his name, which he supplies with a smirk. “Dean,” you repeat. “But I’m maid of honour, and this is my sister's wedding.” You cross your arms and arch a brow. It makes his cocky attitude drop instantly, and it’s quite amusing to watch him fumble.
“I, you know. I’m just kidding.” He stumbles with a nervous chuckle, and you narrow your eyes playfully at him until you feel you’ve made him uncomfortable enough.
“Don’t worry about it." You concede your teasing with a chuckle. “Weddings are supposed to be fun, right?” You shrug before waving him closer to you like you’re about to tell him a secret. He easily obliges, and you try to ignore the close proximity and the delicious scent of him again before you speak.
“Just watch out for the brunette; she’s a little on the crazy side.” You nod your head over at Tiffany, one of the bridesmaids and he follows your direction to the dance floor. She was in your sister's circle of friends, but she was well-known for being a little clingy with men.
You’d heard she’d burnt her last boyfriend's clothes when he didn’t return her calls for a few hours, convinced he was cheating on her. He wasn’t. He was visiting his sick grandmother, something he’d told her the night before.
“Noted.” Dean nods seriously as you pull back and looks away thoughtfully, as if he were thinking of something important before his eyes snap to you again. “What about the maid of honour? Is she game?” Your heart flutters a little at the smoothness of his implication, and you can’t stop your shy smile. You had to look away from him, and it was then you noticed the other two were missing. You frown and look around before you spot Matty and Sam further down the bar with a beer each. Matty catches your eye and winks at you before pointing at you and then Dean and making a vulgar gesture with his hand and mouth. You roll your eyes before you look back at Dean.
“I see we’ve been ditched.” You scoff humorously and Dean’s smirk wideness.
“And you haven’t answered my question.” He points out cooly and leans against the bartop; his stare intense, making you squirm a little. Men at this magnitude of hotness never hit on you, and if it wasn’t for the alcohol still running through your veins, you’re certain you would have malfunctioned by now.
“She is not.” You decide to lie and bite your lip as you too lean against the bar. Dean’s brow raises as if he were surprised by your admission, and you try not to look him in the eye too much.
“Oh really? And who’s the lucky guy?” You try to fight your smile, and the blush you’re certain is already staining your cheeks. Instead of answering, your eyes subtly flicker over to Matty, and Dean’s smile broadens, his eyes glimmering with mischief.
“You and him?” He nods his head back in their direction, and you shrug with a confident smile, which soon falters when he leans in close to whisper in your ear. “Sweetheart, if that were true, I’d hate to be the one to tell you that your boyfriend is currently flirting up a storm with my brother.”
He pulls back with a cocky smirk, and you can’t contain yourself much longer. Laughter bubbles out of you uncontrollably because it’s true. You and Dean both watch as an uncomfortable Sam tries to dodge Matty’s obvious advances with tears in your eyes.
“We should probably go save him. Matty’s nothing if not persistent.” You breathe out, still trying to calm yourself as you wipe gently at your under-eyes.
"Nah, Sammy’s a big boy; he can fend for himself.” Dean shrugs off with a smile. "Besides, you still have a question to answer and no more B.S.” He points at you half serious, and you can’t find it in you to lie this time.
AN: There you go guys, my first bingo square complete. Let me know what you guys think. Also I am open to maybe expanding on this story, like a prequel and maybe another chapter... Let me know if you'd be interested to see more of this.
#jacklesversebingo24#supernatural#spnfamily#dean winchester#sam winchester#spn imagine#dean winchester x reader#jensen ackles#dean x reader#spn fanfic#spn#reader insert#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester fanfiction#spn fandom#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#jensen ackles characters#original character#writing prompt#abbalina writes
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Not So Bad
Summary: Bad information on a hunt leads to a tense situation that ends in confessed feelings.
Word Count: 3.8k
Warnings: none
Masterlist
I sighed as I flipped through the pages of the dusty old book I’d picked up out of a mix of nerves and boredom. The Winchester boys and I were in New York of all places. I hated it here. The constant loud noise of the bustling city, the air that was so far from the fresh country air I’d grown used to at the bunker, and, worst of all, the tall buildings that blocked out the sky mixing with the thick crowds of people made me feel severely claustrophobic.
But there was a monster here that needed to be killed, and the Winchesters always went where they were needed. And wherever they went, I went. So here I was, sitting in the library while the brothers went off to kill the thing. It was some sort of demi god named Daemon.
I’d never been much of one for fighting. I preferred to be the designated researcher, helping out in a mental capacity instead of physical. Both brothers insisted I at least learn basic self defense and worked with me on occasion, wanting me to be able to defend myself if the worst were to happen, but they never pushed me to come face down monsters with them.
The book I was currently looking through was one of the three I’d been able to find in this library about Daemon. I’d already found the information I was looking for and reported it to the Winchesters. But now my options were to sit here and wait for the hunt to be over so the boys could come pick me up, or make my way back to the motel on my own, and I was perfectly comfortable where I was. Or at least, comfortable enough that it wasn’t worth braving the crowded streets.
I turned another page, skimming the words quickly, barely absorbing what I was reading. Somewhere in the back of my mind I made the distant realization that I was in a library and could go find a more interesting book to pass the time. I didn’t give the idea much thought, knowing that it would be difficult to lose myself in a book when my boys were in danger. I knew how long they’d been living this life and how capable they were, but that didn’t make it any less scary anytime they took off. I knew every time could be the last, and I didn’t take that for granted.
I was about to close the book and at least find something to occupy myself that wasn’t a detailed explanation of the very thing the boys were facing down, when the sentence I’d just read actually registered in my mind. With a sharp inhale, my eyes darted back to the beginning of the paragraph.
It is a common misconception that Daemon is susceptible to oak stakes dipped in lamb’s blood – a rumor no doubt started by the mischievous deity himself – which is actually quite harmless to him. What most do not know is that Daemon is not a demigod at all, but the offspring of a demon and a faerie. As such, his one and only weakness is a silver blade dipped in holy water.
The blood drained from my face. I’d given the boys the wrong information and now they were off to face an angry demigod – or faerie demon hybrid, apparently – with weapons that may as well have been toothpicks for all the use they would be.
How could I have been stupid enough to not double check the information? I should know better than that!
I didn’t have time to wonder if maybe this bit of information was the incorrect one. Something in my gut told me it was right, and even if it wasn’t, I couldn’t risk letting them go to their deaths, thinking they had the upper hand. I pulled my phone out and immediately dialed Sam’s number. It rang a few times before going to voicemail. Cursing quietly to myself, I tried Dean instead. Voicemail again.
Fear for my boys overrode everything else. They were all I had left in the world and I absolutely could not lose them. I couldn’t live without my sweet, steady Sam. He was an invaluable source of knowledge on all topics imaginable and he had a calm, comforting disposition that seemed to instantly ease everyone in his vicinity. His sense of humor may not have been as pronounced as Dean’s, but I appreciated it just the same and wondered what would happen if I never got to hear his laugh or see his smile again.
And Dean. I couldn’t even let myself think what all I would be losing if he was gone. To an outsider, our relationship looked perfectly polite and comfortable. And it was, I suppose – we always got along well and never had a bad word to say to each other – if not a little strained. Although, that may have been just on my end. He never did seem to feel the tension that I did. I couldn’t blame him for not noticing either. After all, I did everything I could to keep him from knowing just how much I cared for him. Just how much I loved him.
Without stopping to think about it, I quickly exited the library and rushed out into the crowded streets I so despised. I ran in the direction of Daemon’s lair – we had known its location since early in the investigation and had only been working on the details of how to kill him – roughly shoving through crowds of people when necessary.
I was severely winded by the time I reached the abandoned building that Daemon resided in. I was panting in short breaths that seemed to fill my lungs with fire. I didn’t have time to stop though. I spotted the Impala parked in the alley and fumbled a key out of my pocket. I threw the trunk open, grabbed a silver knife and poured a generous helping of holy water over it. I barely remembered to slam the trunk shut before rushing inside.
I slowed down once I was inside. The building was large and I had no idea where any of the current occupants might be. I was just peeking around an open door, knife held at the ready, when a huge crash followed by a yell of pain sounded off to my right. My heart stopped. That was Dean.
Please let him be ok. Please let him be ok. And Sam too. Let them both be ok, I pleaded to any god who would listen.
I crept as quickly and quietly towards the sound of distress as I could, sounds of a fight leading me there. Fear like I’d never felt before ran like ice through my veins, but kept me moving forward. I rounded a corner and felt my heart stop again before picking up a racing rhythm at what I saw. Sam was sprawled on the ground. He’s only unconscious, I told myself. The alternative was unacceptable. Across the room was Dean, pinned to a wall by Daemon, straining to break the hybrid’s grip and thrust his oak stake into its side. Daemon clearly had the upper hand and wrenched the stake away from him, throwing it behind him. I barely stopped myself from calling out Dean’s name.
“You think you can kill me? A puny man, kill a god?” Daemon spat, the rage clear in his voice.
I charged towards them, knife raised and ready. I was only a few steps away when Dean saw me over Daemon’s shoulder. His eyes widened in surprise before he could stop the involuntary reaction. I saw him immediately look away again, not wanting to give me away, but it was too late. Daemon had seen it. He whirled around to face me and knocked me aside without a thought. It was as easy as if he’d been swatting at an irritating fly. Dean yelled my name just as I collided with the wall. My breath, which I hadn’t even quite gotten back after my long sprint here, left me in a whoosh.
I watched in fascination and horror as Dean took advantage of the momentary distraction to rush at Daemon. He kicked his legs out from under him before climbing on top of him, pinning him to the ground. They struggled for a few seconds before Dean was able to snatch the oak stake from where it had been discarded on the ground.
“No, Dean! The knife!” I yelled to him. I had dropped it at some point between Daemon’s blow and hitting the wall. Dean didn’t question me, didn’t hesitate before dropping the useless weapon and searching for the knife. But it was out of his reach and it was clear he wouldn’t be able to hold Daemon down much longer. I started to struggle to my feet to grab it for him, but before I was able to, a large body ran into my line of sight, blocking my view of Dean, and stooping to pick up the knife.
I tensed, terrified that there was some unknown second thing to deal with now, but soon realized it was only Sam. He picked up the knife and turned to his brother. Without speaking a word to each other, Dean rolled out of the way just as Sam plunged the knife down into the heart of the monster.
Dean was red faced and breathing hard – and who could blame him after wrestling with a being with supernatural strength – but otherwise seemed alright, so I turned my attention to Sam who was closer and who I worried could have any number of injuries after being knocked unconscious.
“Sam, are you-”
“What the hell were you thinking?” Dean demanded. Stunned at the hardness of his voice, I turned to look at him and realized that what I’d mistaken for exertion was actually anger. He was livid. I’d never seen him so angry, at least not with me. Why was he angry? This completely unexpected reaction left me feeling small and confused.
“What?” I asked. “What do you mean? I was just trying-”
“You could have gotten yourself killed!” He yelled. He took a step in my direction and a grimace crossed his face as his leg seemed to struggle slightly under his weight. He grunted, the only sound he would let escape. I remembered his yell, the noise that had guided me in this direction to begin with. He was hurt. Dean, who sat stoically with teeth gritted, never letting more than a grunt escape while Sam dug bullets out of him or sewed up horrible gashes, had cried out in pain. That had scared me more than anything else tonight, the idea of how badly he must be hurt to not be able to hide it.
“Dean,” Sam started in a warning tone. He might have been about to defend me or to tell Dean to cool his temper so we could talk calmly, but I would never know. Anger flared up in me, completely overriding the confusion and uncertainty Dean’s words had caused.
“Well you nearly were killed! So I guess it’s a good thing I’m here, isn’t it?” I shouted back. I wasn’t actually angry, I knew, just reliving the terror of the last half hour mixed with the relief of seeing them both ok and the worry at their injuries. In short, I was overwhelmed and Dean yelling at me had frayed my already shot nerves.
“We would have been fine.” Dean deflected.
“No you wouldn’t have! When I got here Sam was on the ground, dead for all I knew, and you were hardly about to win in a battle of strength. And even if you had, your weapon was useless. You would have died!”
“You’re the one who decided you didn’t want to fight! And that’s fine, you know we’re ok with that. But you can’t just not train and then run into a fight with no idea what you’re doing!”
“Guys, maybe we should-” Sam tried again.
“No!” I yelled. I saw a look of surprised hurt in his eyes. I felt bad for snapping at him when he hadn’t done anything wrong, but I was too fired up to backtrack now. “If Dean hasn’t had enough of a fight tonight, then let’s fight! I may not be trained in hand to hand and weapons the way you are, but I assure you, I can yell at you all night long.”
Dean’s eyes narrowed and I saw the muscle jump in his jaw.
“Sam, can you give us a minute?” He asked in a forced calm tone.
Sam hesitated, looking back and forth between the two of us before agreeing. “Alright. But you’ve got ten minutes before I’m coming back in after you to make sure you’re not strangling each other,” he warned before leaving the room.
We glared at each other for a minute, neither of us speaking. After what felt simultaneously like an eternity and only a moment, Dean started talking again in that tone that was an attempt at being calm, but I could clearly hear the tenseness and anger underneath.
“You can’t just-”
“You said that already,” I interrupted immediately. His jaw ticked again, and I knew shouting at him when he was trying to deescalate the situation was not appreciated. He tried again in that same infuriating tone, a little more strained this time.
“Sam and I hardly need you jumping in to protect us. We know what we’re doing.”
“That’s not the point!”
“Then what is?” He yelled back, patience worn thin.
“It doesn’t matter if you know what you’re doing or not because you couldn’t have won! I was doing some more reading after you guys left and I realized I gave you the wrong weapon.”
“Then you call us! You don’t come running in after us!”
“I did call you! Neither of you picked up! I couldn’t just sit there and wait for you to die!”
“Of course you could have! Don’t you think we’d rather take our chances with bad weapons than to have you in the line of fire?”
“What would you have done Dean?” I screamed at him. “If it were you sitting around knowing that I was going after a monster with a weapon that wouldn’t kill it? What would you have done?” I felt confident this would be the end of it. After all, there was no doubt in my mind what he would have done, and he couldn’t possibly deny it.
“That’s not the same thing,” he said. He was still angry, but he said this in a quieter voice, the kind of quiet that meant I’d truly struck a nerve.
“Why?” I asked, ready to swoop in with the metaphorical killing blow and win the argument. “Because I can’t fight, so of course I’d need you to come save me?”
“No.”
“Hypothetically saying I was as well trained as you then. Or that it was Sam. The point still stands. You would have done exactly what I did. You wouldn’t just sit back and let us die, so why would I?”
“I told you, that’s not what I meant,” he snapped. “How do you think we would feel if something happened to you? What if we couldn’t protect you and you got hurt?”
“How do you think I felt, Dean?” I stomped over to him, getting right in his face, letting him see how much I meant what I was saying. “I didn’t know if you would be alive or not when I got here.” I stopped for a breath, the intensity of the emotions I’d felt in that moment hitting me once again. “Don’t tell me I don’t understand what it would feel like. I know exactly what it feels like.”
“It’s not the same,” he said again, stubbornly.
“How is it not the same? If anything, it’s worse for me. You and Sam at least have each other. If I lose you guys, I have no one. I will not lose you. Do you understand me? If that means putting my own life on the line, I’m ok with that.”
“I’m not!”
“Well that’s just too bad, isn’t it, because it’s my life, not yours!”
“You’re not understanding me! If you would just let me explain-”
But apparently I wouldn’t. I wasn’t doing it on purpose, but I just needed him to understand what I was saying. So I cut him off in the middle of his request that I not do so.
“No, I told you that I understand perfectly. It’s you who isn’t understanding! I’ve never been more scared in my whole life than I was when I heard you yelling in pain.” In the back of my mind, I registered that Dean’s expression had turned from anger to determination. But my brain didn’t seem to fully process this fact, not that I would have known what to do with that information even if I had. My emotions were driving me now, and there was no stopping the words pouring from my mouth.
“I thought that whatever happened, it must be really bad. And maybe I was too late to save you. And it’s my own stupid fault you needed saving in the first place. How could I-”
This time, Dean cut me off. It was only fair, after all I’d done the same to him. This was a much nicer, much more pleasant, much more unexpected way of interrupting though. He leaned down, crashing his lips against mine. As my body seemed to be running on instinct and adrenaline right now, I responded immediately, wrapping my arms around his neck, meeting his demanding kiss with enthusiasm.
I ran one of my hands through his hair, enjoying the feel of the soft strands between my fingers. My other hand ran down over his shoulder, to his bicep, then over to his chest, loving the strength I could feel in all those hard earned muscles. His hands were wandering too, in my hair one second, traveling over my back the next, and then on my waist.
My brain, which seemed to have shut down for the past few moments – minutes? – decided to start working again, practically screaming at me that this was Dean I was kissing. Dean, apparently experiencing the same returning brain function as me, pulled away. He took a careful step back, creating some space between us. That was probably good. I couldn’t think with him so close. Not after that. His cheeks were flushed red for a whole new reason now and his hair was sticking up in an annoyingly attractive way. I could see by the surprise in his eyes that he hadn’t been planning on the kiss being that intense.
“It’s not the same,” he repeated, his voice as calm as if we were having a normal conversation on any old day. As if we hadn’t been arguing minutes before. As if he hadn’t just given me the most mind numbing, spine tingling kiss of my life. “Because I love you. And I know that that probably wasn’t the best way to go about telling you, but I need you to understand what it would mean to me to lose you. If you lost me, you’d lose a friend. It would suck, but you would move on. But you’re more than that to me, and I don’t know how I could survive losing you.”
“Have you not paid attention to a thing I said?” I asked him, taking a step forward to eliminate the space he’d put between us. “I told you, if I lost you and Sam I would have nothing.”
“Yeah, but that’s not really true. You could make more friends easily enough.”
“But you’re not just my friends. Sam is my best friend, true, but I love him like he’s my brother. Losing him would hurt me just as bad as losing an actual brother. And you… I couldn’t move on from you any easier than you could move on from me. I love you too.”
“Yeah,” Dean winced. “Like a brother. I know.”
“Not like a brother,” I said, wrinkling my nose a little. “Do you really think I would kiss you like that, or at all for that matter, if that’s how I thought of you?”
“I would hope not,” he agreed.
“So, basically, you’ve been yelling at me this whole time about not understanding you when, in reality, I understand perfectly, just like I said from the beginning.” I couldn’t help but gloat a little at being right.
The corner of Dean’s mouth twitched slightly in a repressed smile.
“You know, I think you owe me for scaring me nearly to death earlier,” he said happily.
“I owe you?”
“Yes. When you came running in here I swear my heart stopped. And then I had to watch you get thrown across the room…” He winced at the memory and I could tell how upset it made him, but he quickly shook it off and kept up his cheerful tone. “I think you took at least three years off my life. Lucky for you I’ll take payment in kisses. One for every year less I’ll live thanks to you.”
Part of me wanted to argue, but the other part was too giddy to even care.
“Alright,” I agreed easily. I stretched up onto my tiptoes and pressed a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth. I wanted to continue the intense kiss from earlier, but there would be time for that later. This seemed like the appropriate response to his gentle, teasing tone. “There’s one.”
I kissed him again, and then once more, feeling like I could burst with joy the whole time.
“There,” I said after the third kiss. “Does that make us even?”
“For now,” he smiled. “I have a feeling I’ll be finding lots of excuses for more in the future.”
“How’s this for an excuse? I think you took at least five years off my life. I’ll be needing some compensation here as well.”
He grinned. “And I fully intend to pay up. Once we’re home though. I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to get out of here.”
I was a little disappointed to have to be done kissing him. But I knew he was right. We should get out of here. I knew he was in pain, and I still didn’t know how Sam was doing. Besides, it was only a temporary stop. Once we were home I would have as much time with him as I wanted.
Home. Just the mention of it made me long for it even more. But even though I couldn’t wait to be back, even though I’d spent the whole time here waiting for the moment we could leave, the past few minutes with Dean had made the whole thing worth it.
Maybe New York wasn’t so bad after all.
Tags: @123passwort @buckybarnes-1917 @chicken-nuggs-and-cozy-hugs @globetrotter28
#not so bad#supernatural#fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#confessed feelings#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x original character
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And Then There Were Three | Winchester Sister I
Summary - A baby shows up on the Winchester's doorstep, and their entire lives change.
Pairings/characters - John Winchester, Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester, Meg Winchester (OFC), Sam & Dean Winchester x little sister, John Winchester x daughter
Warnings - very mild cursing, John Winchester
Language - English (British)
Word Count - 3,096
Notes - This is the first instalment of the Winchester Sister series featuring my OFC Meg Winchester! Please be kind <3
Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics
UPDATE - I have moved my writing to @winniewritesstories to make my writing easier to find than on this mess of a blog! I won't be taking this down but all future writing (for Meg and reader inserts) will be there!
Dean Winchester was strong. He was brave, and fierce. He fought monsters - has done his whole life, as long as he can remember. He liked to think he was unbreakable, invincible. The hits kept coming, and he kept taking them. Fear, pain, worry - he pushed it all down, kept it locked away. In some ways, he had a heart of ice. He never broke.
Dean Winchester was strong.
And then one day, just before he turned nineteen, a baby appeared on a motel doorstep. A baby who wasn't his, but was. Would always be. A baby in a pram, with a note addressed to John Winchester, a note that eased the fears this baby was his, but it would be his, really. John Winchester was never a father. Not to him, not to Sam, and therefore not to this baby.
It was early October, and already Maine was cold. Dean's breath clouded in front of him in the cool, dark night. A glance around the parking lot revealed nobody, no cars, nothing to indicate where this baby had come from. His first instinct was to bring the baby in from the cold, and he did, careful to fix the salt line the wheels of the pram disturbed.
The first thing that struck Dean was that this kid was definitely a Winchester. They were a carbon copy of baby Sammy, same little button nose and eyes, barely any hair gracing their head. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, four years old and holding Sammy for the first time, his mom supporting Sam's head while dad took a picture. Still a kid with two parents but keenly aware of his responsibility, of how his centre of gravity had shifted from himself to his baby brother.
But his mom wasn't here now and Dean would have to support this baby's head on his own. And his dad hadn't taken pictures of his kids since Mary died. So his centre of gravity shifted again to the baby in the pram. Another of John Winchester's kids for Dean to raise. Part of him was angry, part of him defeated. Sammy was fourteen, able to look after himself now. Dean didn't have to worry about him in the same way - Sam fed himself, did his homework, all that crap. Dean had almost been free.
But he couldn't blame the baby. He didn't. It didn't ask for this. Didn't understand anything. Dean reached a hand down, pulled the little yellow blanket away from their face. It was small, smaller than Sammy had been, and not just because Dean was grown now and over six foot. Small in a way that told him this baby was young. Small in a way that put fear into him. Small in a way that made him desperate to protect them from the horrors and cruelty of their world.
He felt sick knowing he could never protect them from that. From their lives. This baby was a Winchester, which basically meant it was fucked.
The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.
"What is that?" he asks, damp hair curling against his forehead.
"A baby," Dean replies, still looking down at them.
"A what?" Sam asks incredulously, crossing the room to stand by his brother. He looked down and saw there was, in fact, a baby. "The hell did this come from?"
"Was on the doorstep. Came with this." Dean said, handing Sam the unopened letter addressed to their father.
"It's dad's?" Sam was having a hard time digesting all this. He had to admit, his first thought was it was Dean's. "Where even is he?"
"Bar, I think. Reckon he knows about it?"
"If he knew he had another kid out there, don't ya think he would've mentioned it?"
"Yeah, 'cos Dad's a real open book." Dean replied. Sam turned the envelope over and made to open. "What're you doing? Don't do that, is addressed to Dad."
"Figured this might give us some answers. Maybe a name for the mystery baby."
Dean snatched the letter from his brother. "We ain't reading this til Dad has."
"Is Dad dating anyone?" Sam asked. "He's never mentioned anyone."
Dean shrugged a shoulder. "Doubt Dad dates. Probably a one time thing."
"And after he gave me the safe sex talk. Hypocrite." Sam said. Dean shot him a pointed look but didn't say anything. After all, Sam wasn't wrong. Dean'd received the John Winchester safe sex talk, too (an uncomfortable memory).
As if summoned, the rumble of the Impala's engine and the beams of her headlights signalled their father's arrival. The brothers exchanged a look, knowing that a mystery baby showing up on their doorstep would not go down well with John Winchester. Dean didn’t know why, but he positioned himself in front of the pram, standing between the baby and the door John would walk through. Sam copied him.
The door opened and John walked in, stepping over the salt line. He nodded his head towards his sons, locking the door and shrugging off his leather jacket. He turned around; neither Sam nor Dean had moved, or even said anything.
"What?" he asked gruffly.
"Um, so something kinda... turned up. For you." Dean started. John cocked an eyebrow.
"This ain't exactly our forwarding address. What is it and how'd it get here?" John asked, heading to the fridge for a beer.
"Well... it's..." Dean figured it was easier to just show him, so he stepped to the side and motioned for Sam to do the same.
John nearly dropped his beer. He immediately fixed his gaze on Dean.
"What did you do?" he asked. Dean sighed. Why'd everyone assume it was his?
"It's yours," Sam said bluntly, taking the letter from Dean's hand and holding it out for him. "Showed up on the doorstep with this."
This time John did drop his beer.
The bottle smashed on the floor, glass and alcohol flying everywhere. The sudden noise startled the baby awake, and they promptly burst out crying. John reached for the letter, Sam for a broom, which left Dean with the baby.
He gently lifted them out of the pram, careful of their head. The yellow blanket fell away slightly, revealing a light pink romper underneath. Presumably a girl then. A little sister. Dean rocked them gently, the way he remembers his mother doing with Sam, quietly shushing to calm her down.
In his arms, he was again struck by how small she was. He held her easily in just two hands, one under her head, the other on her back. She opened her eyes then, wide and blue like all babies, taking in the motel room around them before settling on Dean's face.
"Hello, you," he whispered, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'm your big brother." His heart clenched in his chest as he held her.
"What's the letter say?" Sam asks, knelt on the floor to pick up the glass. John was staring intently at the letter in his hands.
"It's from her mother. Says she can't look after a baby. Too young."
"Jesus, Dad. How young?" Sam asks. Dean groans inwardly. Not the time for this, Sam.
"What the hell are you trying to ask?" John fired back. "She was early twenties. Drinking age, anyway. I don't know why the hell she'd think I'm any more capable of this than she would be. How the hell'd she even find us?" Sam and Dean both shrugged. How were they to know?
"What's her name?" Dean asked, still swaying gently back and forth.
"Amanda something. Don't really remember, to be honest. It was two nights. The sex was alright, nothing special. Didn't exchange numbers."
Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.
"I meant the baby, Dad." Dean replied. John at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.
"Right, of course. Says here..." He scanned the letter. "Margaret." Dean screwed up his nose. That's an old lady name. His little sister was going to be cool, and that couldn't happen with a name like Margaret.
"That's a terrible name for a baby," Dean said aloud, looking down at her. "She doesn't look like a Margaret."
"Meg March was actually a Margaret," Sam said. John and Dean looked at him, perplexed. "Little Women? Louisa May Alcott?" More blank stares. Sam just rolled his eyes.
"Meg." Dean repeats, squinting his eyes at the baby. It fit. "Meg Winchester."
"It doesn't matter what she's called," John said. "We ain't keeping it." Dean's head snapped up.
"What?" Dean asked incredulously.
"How the hell are we going to look after a baby, Dean?" John asked. "We don't have a house, or any baby supplies. We're always on the move. We're hunters, not nannies. I spent two nights with a woman a year ago and then a baby appears. Kid's probably not even mine anyway. We'll take her to a fire station or something."
Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. They'd managed before. Sammy had been but six months old when they started hunting, and Dean - though he tried - hadn't been able to help out as much as he could now. This baby was family. Family is everything to the Winchester's.
"Course she's yours, Dad, look at her! She's a spitting image of Sammy as a baby. Besides, Sam was a baby and we raised him on the road. You can't just abandon her." Dean cried out.
"Maybe Dad is right, Dean. She'd be better off with a family - "
"We're her family! The three of us."
"A real family, with a mom, a dad, a house. She'd be normal, Dean, safe. We can't give her any of that!" Sam replied. True, he was projecting his own dreams onto a baby, but he had a valid point, or so he thought. All Dean heard, however, was that Sam didn't believe they were a real family.
"We are a real family, Sam. Just because we don't have a white picket fence, don't mean we ain't a real family. Besides, you really want this kid growing up in the system? Anything could happen to her!"
"Anything could happen to her here, Dean! All it takes is - is a spirit, or a pissed off monster out for revenge, and she-"
"But we can protect her from that. You think some civilian family would keep her safe if a monster decided to get revenge, Sammy? You have know idea what happens in the foster system. She could be abused, or trafficked, or-"
"Enough!" John snapped loudly, startling the baby again. He couldn't hear himself think. And he did need to think, long and hard, about what was best for them, and for the baby. Sam made a good point, of course, and God knows John's not equipped to look after a baby. But Dean was right, too. Anything could happen to her out there. "Sam, get me a beer."
Sam sighed but did as he was told. John walked over to Dean, who was gently rocking the baby to settle her after John's outburst. He looked at the baby for the first time, really looked at her. Dean was right; she was a carbon copy of baby Sam. And she was cute, too. Dean, admittedly, had been a funny looking baby, especially as a newborn, a squished face and large head he eventually grew into. But this baby - Meg, he reminded himself - was sweet looking, almost doll-like, with her pouty pink lips and button nose.
He and Mary had never talked about more kids - Sam had only been a baby when she died - but he'd always imagined them having one or two more, and he'd always wanted a little girl. Mary had, too, he had no doubt.
But Mary wasn't here, and this wasn't her baby. Part of him felt guilty, as though he'd been unfaithful, despite the fact she'd been dead almost fifteen years. John thought of his own father then, Henry, who'd taken off when John was only four, leaving him and his mother on their own. Even all these years later, he still felt bitter about it - bitter and hurt. Of course it hurt, knowing your own father didn't want you and took off into the night. And that's what he was about to do to this little girl. Her mother had already bailed. John was all she had left.
John, and his boys. Sam had kept his distance, almost wary of the baby in Dean's arms, but Dean - he was whipped. That was the only word for it. He was smiling softly down at her, cooing gently to soothe her. Deep down, John knew Dean would end up doing more for this baby than he ever could. But maybe that was a good thing. Dean wouldn't make the mistakes John did. Wouldn't leave her alone like he did, leave her to raise herself.
The guilt twisted in his gut like a knife, but he knew what he had to do.
"We'll keep her. It'll be safest for her. We'll... we'll make it work somehow. We'll have to." John said, placing a large, calloused hand gently on his daughter's head. Dean looked up at him with Mary's green eyes, raw hope etched onto his face.
"Yeah?" He asked softly. John nodded once, clapping his eldest son gently on the shoulder. Sam handed him a beer, then stood on Dean's other side.
"Can I hold her?" Sam asked. Dean looked reluctant to let her go.
"Be careful. She's really small and can't hold her head up on her own yet, so make sure you support it. Don't drop her, for God's sake." Dean rambled on as he gently shifted the infant into Sam's open arms, already fretting like a mother hen. John smiled softly at his children - all three of them.
Sam smiled at the baby, rocking her gently the way Dean had. "Hi, Meg. I'm gonna be your favourite big brother." He said. Dean rolled his eyes.
"No way, Sammy. I'm already her favourite."
"That's crap, she doesn't speak, can't even smile. You don't know that."
"Sure she can, she smiled at me just now."
"Yeah, that was gas, Dean. She farted on you." Sam replied, and Dean's smile faltered.
"Speaking of," Dean said, changing the conversation abruptly. "We're gonna need supplies. Diapers, a car seat, formula."
John nodded, moving to the pram that Meg had turned up in. There was a bag in the basket underneath the bassinet. John leafed through it quickly. "There's some stuff here," he said, holding up a muslin cloth and some diapers. "Enough for tonight, at least. We'll find somewhere in town tomorrow that sells baby stuff. Maybe pick up a book, too."
"A baby book?" Sam asked. "Why'd you need that?"
"It's been a long time since I did any of this, Sammy. Besides, I didn't do it on my own before, I was working a lot. Your mom... your mom looked after you guys most. Did all the hard stuff." John admitted quietly. The room fell into reverent silence the way it always did when someone brought up Mary. Sam didn't point out that he'd still been a baby when she died, and John had raised him for most of life alone. It didn't seem like the time. But a book seemed overboard, in Sam's opinion. How hard could a baby be?
Only a minute or so later, Sam's question was answered. Meg began fussing in his arms, quietly at first, but getting louder despite Sam's gentle shushing and swaying. When her cries turned to wails, he looked up at his father and brother, panic in his eyes. "I think I broke her."
It was Dean that stepped forward, plucking the baby from his arms. "You didn't break her," he assured Sam. John stepped up too, looking down at the infant whose fist she was trying to squeeze into her mouth.
"See how she's sucking her hand?" John spoke quietly. "Mean's she's hungry. C'mon Sam, I'll show you how to make a bottle. If I can work it out, that is."
Sam and John stepped away to prepare the formula. Dean watched them as he swayed the baby. "It's okay, princess. Daddy and Sammy will get you some food."
Dean watched his father, usually so confident and self assured in everything he did, falter at almost every step. Checking the instructions on the formula, then checking again. Rinsing a bottle and filling it with hot water. Hands hesitant, unsure of what they were doing. Hands that could assemble a shot gun in under a minute, but seemed to tremble as he shook the bottle. Testing the temperature on his palm, his wrist, then his wrist again. He had no idea how warm it should be.
Although it was strange to see John so unsteady, Dean found it strangely... comforting. Humanising, perhaps. He pictured briefly John doing the same thing for him as a baby, the unsure hands of a first time father. Pictured his mom along side, walking him through each step.
John handed the formula to Dean. "You gonna do it?" he asked. Dean nodded. He didn't want to relinquish the baby, even though John hadn't even held her yet. Although, he'd made no move to hold her either. John talked him through it, how to hold the bottle, at what angle, as best he could remember.
Dean paced slowly around the small living space of their motel room with his sister in his arms. Sam had pulled out some homework, John writing something in his journal, beer in hand. But for Dean, it was just him and his sister in the world. Hell, his sister was his world now.
Dean Winchester was strong.
But he could feel his heart thawing out for the baby in his arms. He knew he needed to be strong for her, yet he'd never felt so weak. The fear of what could happen to her, the need to keep her safe, was almost overwhelming. Was this parenthood?
The love, too, he supposed was overwhelming. The kind that made his heart clench, made him want to fix the world for her and burn it down at the same time. The kind he'd kill and die for.
And somehow, despite everything he'd seen and done in only eighteen years, this was the scariest thing he'd encountered to date. He kept it together for her. He was strong. He had to be.
He's Dean Winchester.
#supernatural#winchesters x sister#sam winchester x little sister#dean winchester x little sister#dean winchester#spn#sam winchester#original character#supernatural fic#spn fic#supernatural imagine#john winchester#john winchester x daughter#winchester sister#winchester little sister#spn imagine#spn sister imagine#winchester!sister#spn sisfic#supernatural sisfic#winniewrites#sam#dean#john#spn sister#supernatural sister
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★ 𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ★
𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒: ↓
› THE HUNTERS & THE SOLDIER
┆
↳ [ 𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘢 𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘉𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳. ]
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
› 𝙎𝙄𝙇𝙑𝙀𝙍𝙇𝘼𝙆𝙀 (coming soon)
┆
↳ [ 𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝘉𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧-𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘣𝘶𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦 𝘣𝘺 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘚𝘵𝘦𝘷𝘦’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥, 𝘉𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘺. ]
. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
› 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐀𝐓
┆
↳ [ 𝗦𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝖠𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽'𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝖺𝗍𝗁, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗆𝗈𝗏𝖾𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗐𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗍𝗈. ]
__________________________________________________
𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓: ↓
[Coming when I get ideas]
#bucky barnes#bucky x you#bucky x oc#james bucky barnes#james buchanan barnes#dean winchester#supernatural#bucky x reader#bucky bar ws#sam winchester#winter soldier#marvel#mcu#the winchester brothers#winchester#bucky fanfic#james bucky buchanan barnes#bucky barnes x yn#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x oc#bucky barns x reader#bucky barns fanfiction#bucky barns x y/n#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky barnes x original female character#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky winter soldier#bucky x female reader#bucky x y/n
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And Then There Were Three | Meg Winchester #1
Summary - A baby shows up on the Winchester's doorstep, and their entire lives change.
Pairings/characters - John Winchester, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Meg Winchester (OC)
Sam & Dean Winchester x little sister, John Winchester x daughter
Warnings - Mild cursing, John Winchester
Language - English (British)
Word Count - 3096
Notes - This is the first instalment in a series of one shots and headcanons about my OC Meg! Please be kind <3
Credits - dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics
Dean Winchester was strong. He was brave, and fierce. He fought monsters - has done his whole life, as long as he can remember. He liked to think he was unbreakable, invincible. The hits kept coming, and he kept taking them. Fear, pain, worry - he pushed it all down, kept it locked away. In some ways, he had a heart of ice. He never broke.
Dean Winchester was strong.
And then one day, just before he turned nineteen, a baby appeared on a motel doorstep. A baby who wasn't his, but was. Would always be. A baby in a pram, with a note addressed to John Winchester, a note that eased the fears this baby was his, but it would be his, really. John Winchester was never a father. Not to him, not to Sam, and therefore not to this baby.
It was early October, and already Maine was cold. Dean's breath clouded in front of him in the cool, dark night. A glance around the parking lot revealed nobody, no cars, nothing to indicate where this baby had come from. His first instinct was to bring the baby in from the cold, and he did, careful to fix the salt line the wheels of the pram disturbed.
The first thing that struck Dean was that this kid was definitely a Winchester. They were a carbon copy of baby Sammy, same little button nose and eyes, barely any hair gracing their head. A memory tugged at the corners of his mind, four years old and holding Sammy for the first time, his mom supporting Sam's head while dad took a picture. Still a kid with two parents but keenly aware of his responsibility, of how his centre of gravity had shifted from himself to his baby brother.
But his mom wasn't here now and Dean would have to support this baby's head on his own. And his dad hadn't taken pictures of his kids since Mary died. So his centre of gravity shifted again to the baby in the pram. Another of John Winchester's kids for Dean to raise. Part of him was angry, part of him defeated. Sammy was fourteen, able to look after himself now. Dean didn't have to worry about him in the same way - Sam fed himself, did his homework, all that crap. Dean had almost been free.
But he couldn't blame the baby. He didn't. It didn't ask for this. Didn't understand anything. Dean reached a hand down, pulled the little yellow blanket away from their face. It was small, smaller than Sammy had been, and not just because Dean was grown now and over six foot. Small in a way that told him this baby was young. Small in a way that put fear into him. Small in a way that made him desperate to protect them from the horrors and cruelty of their world.
He felt sick knowing he could never protect them from that. From their lives. This baby was a Winchester, which basically meant it was fucked.
The bathroom door opened, and Sam walked out.
"What is that?" he asks, damp hair curling against his forehead.
"A baby," Dean replies, still looking down at them.
"A what?" Sam asks incredulously, crossing the room to stand by his brother. He looked down and saw there was, in fact, a baby. "The hell did this come from?"
"Was on the doorstep. Came with this." Dean said, handing Sam the unopened letter addressed to their father.
"It's dad's?" Sam was having a hard time digesting all this. He had to admit, his first thought was it was Dean's. "Where even is he?"
"Bar, I think. Reckon he knows about it?"
"If he knew he had another kid out there, don't ya think he would've mentioned it?"
"Yeah, 'cos Dad's a real open book." Dean replied. Sam turned the envelope over and made to open. "What're you doing? Don't do that, is addressed to Dad."
"Figured this might give us some answers. Maybe a name for the mystery baby."
Dean snatched the letter from his brother. "We ain't reading this til Dad has."
"Is Dad dating anyone?" Sam asked. "He's never mentioned anyone."
Dean shrugged a shoulder. "Doubt Dad dates. Probably a one time thing."
"And after he gave me the safe sex talk. Hypocrite." Sam said. Dean shot him a pointed look but didn't say anything. After all, Sam wasn't wrong. Dean'd received the John Winchester safe sex talk, too (an uncomfortable memory).
As if summoned, the rumble of the Impala's engine and the beams of her headlights signalled their father's arrival. The brothers exchanged a look, knowing that a mystery baby showing up on their doorstep would not go down well with John Winchester. Dean didn’t know why, but he positioned himself in front of the pram, standing between the baby and the door John would walk through. Sam copied him.
The door opened and John walked in, stepping over the salt line. He nodded his head towards his sons, locking the door and shrugging off his leather jacket. He turned around; neither Sam nor Dean had moved, or even said anything.
"What?" he asked gruffly.
"Um, so something kinda... turned up. For you." Dean started. John cocked an eyebrow.
"This ain't exactly our forwarding address. What is it and how'd it get here?" John asked, heading to the fridge for a beer.
"Well... it's..." Dean figured it was easier to just show him, so he stepped to the side and motioned for Sam to do the same.
John nearly dropped his beer. He immediately fixed his gaze on Dean.
"What did you do?" he asked. Dean sighed. Why'd everyone assume it was his?
"It's yours," Sam said bluntly, taking the letter from Dean's hand and holding it out for him. "Showed up on the doorstep with this."
This time John did drop his beer.
The bottle smashed on the floor, glass and alcohol flying everywhere. The sudden noise startled the baby awake, and they promptly burst out crying. John reached for the letter, Sam for a broom, which left Dean with the baby.
He gently lifted them out of the pram, careful of their head. The yellow blanket fell away slightly, revealing a light pink romper underneath. Presumably a girl then. A little sister. Dean rocked them gently, the way he remembers his mother doing with Sam, quietly shushing to calm her down.
In his arms, he was again struck by how small she was. He held her easily in just two hands, one under her head, the other on her back. She opened her eyes then, wide and blue like all babies, taking in the motel room around them before settling on Dean's face.
"Hello, you," he whispered, unable to keep the smile off his face. "I'm your big brother." His heart clenched in his chest as he held her.
"What's the letter say?" Sam asks, knelt on the floor to pick up the glass. John was staring intently at the letter in his hands.
"It's from her mother. Says she can't look after a baby. Too young."
"Jesus, Dad. How young?" Sam asks. Dean groans inwardly. Not the time for this, Sam.
"What the hell are you trying to ask?" John fired back. "She was early twenties. Drinking age, anyway. I don't know why the hell she'd think I'm any more capable of this than she would be. How the hell'd she even find us?" Sam and Dean both shrugged. How were they to know?
"What's her name?" Dean asked, still swaying gently back and forth.
"Amanda something. Don't really remember, to be honest. It was two nights. The sex was alright, nothing special. Didn't exchange numbers."
Sam and Dean cringed. They did not need details.
"I meant the baby, Dad." Dean replied. John at least had the decency to look a little embarrassed.
"Right, of course. Says here..." He scanned the letter. "Margaret." Dean screwed up his nose. That's an old lady name. His little sister was going to be cool, and that couldn't happen with a name like Margaret.
"That's a terrible name for a baby," Dean said aloud, looking down at her. "She doesn't look like a Margaret."
"Meg March was actually a Margaret," Sam said. John and Dean looked at him, perplexed. "Little Women? Louisa May Alcott?" More blank stares. Sam just rolled his eyes.
"Meg." Dean repeats, squinting his eyes at the baby. It fit. "Meg Winchester."
"It doesn't matter what she's called," John said. "We ain't keeping it." Dean's head snapped up.
"What?" Dean asked incredulously.
"How the hell are we going to look after a baby, Dean?" John asked. "We don't have a house, or any baby supplies. We're always on the move. We're hunters, not nannies. I spent two nights with a woman a year ago and then a baby appears. Kid's probably not even mine anyway. We'll take her to a fire station or something."
Dean couldn't believe what he was hearing. They'd managed before. Sammy had been but six months old when they started hunting, and Dean - though he tried - hadn't been able to help out as much as he could now. This baby was family. Family is everything to the Winchester's.
"Course she's yours, Dad, look at her! She's a spitting image of Sammy as a baby. Besides, Sam was a baby and we raised him on the road. You can't just abandon her." Dean cried out.
"Maybe Dad is right, Dean. She'd be better off with a family - "
"We're her family! The three of us."
"A real family, with a mom, a dad, a house. She'd be normal, Dean, safe. We can't give her any of that!" Sam replied. True, he was projecting his own dreams onto a baby, but he had a valid point, or so he thought. All Dean heard, however, was that Sam didn't believe they were a real family.
"We are a real family, Sam. Just because we don't have a white picket fence, don't mean we ain't a real family. Besides, you really want this kid growing up in the system? Anything could happen to her!"
"Anything could happen to her here, Dean! All it takes is - is a spirit, or a pissed off monster out for revenge, and she-"
"But we can protect her from that. You think some civilian family would keep her safe if a monster decided to get revenge, Sammy? You have know idea what happens in the foster system. She could be abused, or trafficked, or-"
"Enough!" John snapped loudly, startling the baby again. He couldn't hear himself think. And he did need to think, long and hard, about what was best for them, and for the baby. Sam made a good point, of course, and God knows John's not equipped to look after a baby. But Dean was right, too. Anything could happen to her out there. "Sam, get me a beer."
Sam sighed but did as he was told. John walked over to Dean, who was gently rocking the baby to settle her after John's outburst. He looked at the baby for the first time, really looked at her. Dean was right; she was a carbon copy of baby Sam. And she was cute, too. Dean, admittedly, had been a funny looking baby, especially as a newborn, a squished face and large head he eventually grew into. But this baby - Meg, he reminded himself - was sweet looking, almost doll-like, with her pouty pink lips and button nose.
He and Mary had never talked about more kids - Sam had only been a baby when she died - but he'd always imagined them having one or two more, and he'd always wanted a little girl. Mary had, too, he had no doubt.
But Mary wasn't here, and this wasn't her baby. Part of him felt guilty, as though he'd been unfaithful, despite the fact she'd been dead almost fifteen years. John thought of his own father then, Henry, who'd taken off when John was only four, leaving him and his mother on their own. Even all these years later, he still felt bitter about it - bitter and hurt. Of course it hurt, knowing your own father didn't want you and took off into the night. And that's what he was about to do to this little girl. Her mother had already bailed. John was all she had left.
John, and his boys. Sam had kept his distance, almost wary of the baby in Dean's arms, but Dean - he was whipped. That was the only word for it. He was smiling softly down at her, cooing gently to soothe her. Deep down, John knew Dean would end up doing more for this baby than he ever could. But maybe that was a good thing. Dean wouldn't make the mistakes John did. Wouldn't leave her alone like he did, leave her to raise herself.
The guilt twisted in his gut like a knife, but he knew what he had to do.
"We'll keep her. It'll be safest for her. We'll... we'll make it work somehow. We'll have to." John said, placing a large, calloused hand gently on his daughter's head. Dean looked up at him with Mary's green eyes, raw hope etched onto his face.
"Yeah?" He asked softly. John nodded once, clapping his eldest son gently on the shoulder. Sam handed him a beer, then stood on Dean's other side.
"Can I hold her?" Sam asked. Dean looked reluctant to let her go.
"Be careful. She's really small and can't hold her head up on her own yet, so make sure you support it. Don't drop her, for God's sake." Dean rambled on as he gently shifted the infant into Sam's open arms, already fretting like a mother hen. John smiled softly at his children - all three of them.
Sam smiled at the baby, rocking her gently the way Dean had. "Hi, Meg. I'm gonna be your favourite big brother." He said. Dean rolled his eyes.
"No way, Sammy. I'm already her favourite."
"That's crap, she doesn't speak, can't even smile."
"Sure she can, she smiled at me just now."
"Yeah, that was gas, Dean. She farted on you." Sam replied, and Dean's smile faltered.
"Speaking of," Dean said, changing the conversation abruptly. "We're gonna need supplies. Diapers, a car seat, formula."
John nodded, moving to the pram that Meg had turned up in. There was a bag in the basket underneath the bassinet. John leafed through it quickly. "There's some stuff here," he said, holding up a muslin cloth and some diapers. "Enough for tonight, at least. We'll find somewhere in town tomorrow that sells baby stuff. Maybe pick up a book, too."
"A baby book?" Sam asked. "Why'd you need that?"
"It's been a long time since I did any of this, Sammy. Besides, I didn't do it on my own before, I was working a lot. Your mom... your mom looked after you guys most. Did all the hard stuff." John admitted quietly. The room fell into reverent silence the way it always did when someone brought up Mary. Sam didn't point out that he'd still been a baby when she died, and John had raised him for most of life alone. It didn't seem like the time. But a book seemed overboard, in Sam's opinion. How hard could a baby be?
Only a minute or so later, Sam's question was answered. Meg began fussing in his arms, quietly at first, but getting louder despite Sam's gentle shushing and swaying. When her cries turned to wails, he looked up at his father and brother, panic in his eyes. "I think I broke her."
It was Dean that stepped forward, plucking the baby from his arms. "You didn't break her," he assured Sam. John stepped up too, looking down at the infant whose fist she was trying to squeeze into her mouth.
"See how she's sucking her hand?" John spoke quietly. "Mean's she's hungry. C'mon Sam, I'll show you how to make a bottle. If I can work it out, that is."
Sam and John stepped away to prepare the formula. Dean watched them as he swayed the baby. "It's okay, princess. Daddy and Sammy will get you some food."
Dean watched his father, usually so confident and self assured in everything he did, falter at almost every step. Checking the instructions on the formula, then checking again. Rinsing a bottle and filling it with hot water. Hands hesitant, unsure of what they were doing. Hands that could assemble a shot gun in under a minute, but seemed to tremble as he shook the bottle. Testing the temperature on his palm, his wrist, then his wrist again. He had no idea how warm it should be.
Although it was strange to see John so unsteady, Dean found it strangely... comforting. Humanising, perhaps. He pictured briefly John doing the same thing for him as a baby, the unsure hands of a first time father. Pictured his mom along side, walking him through each step.
John handed the formula to Dean. "You gonna do it?" he asked. Dean nodded. He didn't want to relinquish the baby, even though John hadn't even held her yet. Although, he'd made no move to hold her either. John talked him through it, how to hold the bottle, at what angle, as best he could remember.
Dean paced slowly around the small living space of their motel room with his sister in his arms. Sam had pulled out some homework, John writing something in his journal, beer in hand. But for Dean, it was just him and his sister in the world. Hell, his sister was his world now.
Dean Winchester was strong.
But he could feel his heart thawing out for the baby in his arms. He knew he needed to be strong for her, yet he'd never felt so weak. The fear of what could happen to her, the need to keep her safe, was almost overwhelming. Was this parenthood?
The love, too, he supposed was overwhelming. The kind that made his heart clench, made him want to fix the world for her and burn it down at the same time. The kind he'd kill and die for.
And somehow, despite everything he'd seen and done in only eighteen years, this was the scariest thing he'd encountered to date. He kept it together for her. He was strong. He had to be.
He's Dean Winchester.
Thank you for reading! Please consider reblogging if you enjoyed it <3
#winniewrites#supernatural#winchesters x sister#spn#sam winchester x little sister#dean winchester x little sister#john winchester x daughter#supernatural fic#spn fic#spn fanfic#winchester!sister#spn sister imagine#winchester little sister#supernatural sister#spn sister#john winchester#dean winchester#sam winchester#john winchester daughter#original character#supernatural sisfic
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" Dean, it's not porn. That's what makes sex so good, too. "
He looked at her in wonder at that lightness and lingered over every inch of her body.
" Shall we change the game? " she asked as she stood up with feline stride. " Tell me what you like. "
Dean watched her in silence; she looked tremendously sexy with her blouse open and her boobs breezing down, between which the flower pendant descended. She had a few mini tattoos here and there and a couple of small scars that made her body even more intriguing and attractive.
" I wouldn't want to traumatize you. " he said to set the tone and test her again.
" Sorry, I forgot that you are older than me. " she teased him by pulling him toward her to reach the couch. " Do you see me as a schoolgirl? Do you think I can't chat like that too? Are you of those who like to be called sir? Or daddy?"
She smiled again when she saw him biting his lips, certain that she had discovered a kink in him at the first stroke. She knelt down this time and began to lick his member, showing him how much of a schoolgirl there really was in her; she neglected no part of it, alternating the pace from slow to fast and her hands to her mouth, combining them to stimulate his balls from time to time as well.
" You are so hard. You're making me wet again. " she moaned between lunges, making him gasp with that deep cavernous voice, not realizing the growth in the intensity of her own moans until she stopped to look at him and smile at him again with a look that communicated that she was restraining herself, but still with that lightness and complicity that he adored.
" You're really getting into trouble. "
" Then I can't wait to find out what my punishment will be. " she answered him as she calmly walked to her suitcase and pulled a condom out of a clutch.
" You are so sexy. " Dean remarked, at that moment completely captivated by her independence, by her being very different from the women he usually dated.
" I've been thinking all week about you fucking me in every place we've been, in every possible position ... in every possible hole. " she knew when to tread lightly to keep the desire from wavering, and this time she did so as she helped him insert the condom, alternating between thrusting phrases and twirling her tongue over the head as with obvious difficulty he completed the task.
" Oh baby, you're playing with fire. "
" What now? "
" Now daddy will teach you not to instigate such a man this way. "
Here the third chapter https://archiveofourown.org/works/50832031/chapters/141889423#workskin
#supernatural#dean x original character#daddy!dean#dirty talk#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean x reader#dean winchester#supernatural rewrite#slow romance#supernatural smut#spn fanart#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanart
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Death Confessions
Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: mutual pining, soft Dean, language, mentions of smut, mentions of death
Summary: the boys and you are on a hunt only things don't go according to plan...
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You hate witches. Can't stand the miserable pricks.
Tonight, you and the boys had finally tracked down the local witch in town. Or should you say witches. Plural. And oh yeah, ex lovers as well.
The pair had decided to wage an all out war on one another and didn't seem to care that innocent people were getting hurt in the cross fire.
At some point during the battle, you were struck with a spell. You didn't think anything of it because nothing happened. The boys killed the pair while you were recovering from the blow and you got the hell out of town.
It's been 3 hours into your drive and you aren't feeling so hot anymore.
What the fuck did they do to you.
You're shivering but hot to the touch. Your stomach is in knots. And every time the oldest Winchester looks at you in the rear view mirror, you feel your underwear dampen.
Sam's asleep in the front seat and Dean is humming along with ACDC as he drives you all back to the bunker.
You don't want to panic anyone so you decide to wait it out. Rowena and Crowley are there currently and you're sure she will know what to do.
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Another 3 hours and the impala is pulling into the underground garage the bunker has. You've managed to pretend as if your sleeping to keep the boys from worrying.
Sam turns around to wake you when he notices somethings wrong.
Very wrong.
You're covered in a thin layer of sweat. You're burning hot to touch. Your body is shaking uncontrollably, and you can barely keep your eyes open.
"Dean, something is wrong with y/n." Sam yells at his brother, who is unloading your crap from the trunk.
Dean comes running around to your door and opens it, almost ripping it off its hinges. Seeing you in this state makes his blood boil with concern and a protectivness. Reaching in he gentle cradles you to his chest and with Sam's help gets you into the bunker.
Dean's gruff voice breaks through the fog in your mind. His strong arms feel like bliss as he hold you close. His aftershave surrounds you, making your mouth water. A small moan slips from your lips as you feel your walls clench around nothing.
"Sammy go get Rowena. Tell her y/n was hit by one of the witches. I'm taking her to my room."
You vaguely feel him place you in his bed and cover you in his blankets. His scent is all around you and it's clouding your mind with nasty thoughts about the green eyed hunter.
You've always had a crush on Dean. He's charming, built like a damn model, and treats you as if you're the most precious thing on this earth.
Sadly, the womanizing Winchester has never looked at you more than a best friend. You hang, watch movies together, train once in a while, and he cooks you amazing meals. Nothing more than friends, and you're okay with that.
Better than nothing.
Whatever they hit you with is bringing out your desire for Dean. The same desire you buried deep down and try to avoid at all costs.
Another moan slips out as you feel slick running down your thigh.
Fuck this is embarrassing.
Just then, Sam returns with Rowena in tow. Thank God. Please make it go away. He can't find out like this.
"Oh dear. Sweetie what are you feeling?" Out of all the witches you've developed a soft spot for the red head in front of you. Sure she always has an end game that benefits her, but the woman is strong and resilient. You've got to respect that.
"Cold and uncomfortable." You don't know how else to describe it without completely embarrassing yourself.
Rowena exams you. You see when she clues in. The knowing smirk on her face.
"Well the good news is she will be fine. However," she looks over at the boys then, "someone will have to stay with her tonight and help her work it out of her system."
Dean and Sam share a confused look before Sam speaks up, "what?"
"It's simple. For whatever reason the witch cast a fuck or die spell. I'm sure y/n here wasn't their target but either way she needs to fuck it from her system or she will die in 24 hours."
Your eyes go wide as you listen, "I'm sorry, what?!?"
"It's the only way Dear."
"No. There has to be something else you can do Rowena. Anything else." You were too busy freaking out to catch the look of disappointment the crossed Dean's face. However, Sam wasn't. Even though the oldest Winchester never admitted it out loud, Sam knew how his brother felt about you.
"Y/N it's okay. Dean can stay with you and help you any way you allow." The younger brother said before he motioned for Rowena to follow him out of Dean's room. Leaving you and the green eyed hunter alone.
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"Y/N let me help you." At this point the spell has gotten so bad you won't allow Dean to touch you. Which is of course frustrating the living hell out of him.
"No, Dean its okay."
"The fuck it is. You're dying and I can help. Why won't you let me?"
"It's too much to ask from you. We're friends Dean but even friends have limits."
"If it saves you I'm willing to do anything!" He's temper has taken over. Not understanding why you won't let him save you.
What the hell, you're dying anyway.
"Are you serious Dean!" You're outburst shocks him. He goes to speak but you cut him off.
"No Winchester, shut up and listen. For three years I've watched you take home girl after girl. For three years I've sat at that table or in your Baby and listened as you told us everything you did with them the night before. Not once complaining. Not once telling you how jealous I fucking was. I'm not your type and I get it. But don't think for one minute I will throw away the closet thing I'll ever have with you just to save my life." You point your finger in his direction as you continue.
"I fucking love you dumbass. I've been waiting, hoping you'd see me more as what we are. Hoping you'd get your head out of your ass and see that I'm the perfect girl for you. I'm a freaking hunter. I know the life and the risks. But no, instead you waltz every bimbo you can in front of me like some prized fucking pig."
Before you can continue chewing him a new asshole Dean pounces on you. Strong finger tangle in your hair and his soft lips dominate yours. The surprise subsides and you begin to kiss him back.
"You done yelling at me sweetheart? Cause I got something to say. I've loved your snarky ass since the moment you told me to blow you three years ago when we crossed paths on the vampire hunt. I love everything about you and I only ever got with those women because I knew you could do better than me. I'm not worth the pain y/n, but God dammit if you feel the same than why not try. "
He pushes his large erection into your wet core. You can't help but moan at the feeling. Dean smirks down at you.
"Here's what's going to happen. I'm going to fuck you good and hard for as long as we need to so we can save your life. Then I'm going to make you breakfast before I spend the day worshiping this beauty body how I should. You okay with that princess?"
"Don't call me princess."
"Shut up and kiss me woman."
And kiss you did. Every part of your body as he did exactly as he promised. Fucking you in every position. When he's big, fat cock needed a break he was making you cum with his tongue or fingers. Over and over again until your body began to go back to normal and fatigue set in.
When you woke in his warm, safe arms you found Dean staring at you. You've never seen his eyes shine so bright.
"Feeling better?"
"Yeah I am. Thank you." You lean up and kiss him.
"Let's get you some food." He jumps out of bed and walks to his dresser, finding you one of his shirts. You through it on before you walk out of his room hand in hand.
Sam is already sitting at the table when you walk in together. He looks up from his tablet and just smiles.
"Shut up Sammy." Dean barks as he swats your ass and begins to get the ingredients for breakfast.
"I'm just happy Dean. You got your girl and we didn't lose y/n."
Dean looks over at you and smiles. Fuck you love that man.
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Taglist:
@syrma-sensei @yvonneeeee @nancymcl @foxyjwls007 @lessons-of-red @senjoritanana @leigh70 @tristanrosspada-ackles @maggiegirl17 @neii3n
#jensen ackles#dean girl#dean winchester#supernatural#spn fanfic#dean x you#deanwinchtser#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x original female character#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester smut
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Iconic Sirius black
Wow, it's been a long time since I wrote here. Anyway, I'm planning a Sirius Black fanfic, complete with: Arranged marriage, enemies to lovers, deaths, love, jokes, Sirius Black. I hope you like it when I post it, but in the meantime, we'll have a lot of Dean Winchester, Spider-Man, Marauders and, if everything goes well, original stories.
#fanfiction#fanfic#ao3 fanfic#sam winchester#supernatural#dean winchester#sam and dean#ben barnes#dean winchester x reader#marauders#harry potter#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#dean x reader#spn#spn edit#rowena#sammy#dean x you#original character
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Boyfriend!Dean Winchester headcannons <3
Please leave requests!
Dean loves making Reader breakfast in bed on lazy Sunday mornings, but he always ends up burning the bacon or overcooking the eggs. Reader never has the heart to tell him, so they just enjoy the burnt breakfast together.
Reader is a huge fan of classic rock, and Dean loves to surprise her by playing her favorite songs on the Impala's radio. He'll crank up the volume and sing along, sometimes even dancing in his seat while he drives.
Whenever Reader has a bad day, Dean will make a beeline for the nearest ice cream shop and buy her favorite flavor. They'll curl up on the couch and binge-watch their favorite TV shows while they eat the ice cream straight out of the container.
Reader is a big fan of horror movies, and Dean is more than happy to indulge her by watching them with her. He'll make funny comments throughout the movie to lighten the mood and hold her tight during the scary parts.
Dean loves to surprise Reader with little gifts, like her favorite candy or a book he thinks she'll like. He always has a mischievous grin on his face when he presents the gift, making Reader wonder what he's up to.
Reader is an excellent cook, and Dean loves to watch her in the kitchen. He'll sneak up behind her and wrap his arms around her waist, resting his chin on her shoulder and stealing bites of food as she cooks.
Sometimes, when they're driving around in the Impala, Dean will blast the radio and encourage Reader to sing along. He loves the sound of her voice and thinks she has a beautiful singing voice, even if she's a little shy about it.
Dean is a notorious prankster, and Reader is often the target of his jokes. But she always gets him back in the end, whether it's by putting hot sauce in his food or hiding his favorite shirt.
Despite their different tastes in music, Dean and Reader love to dance together in their living room. They'll put on slow songs and hold each other close, swaying to the music and whispering sweet nothings in each other's ears.
#supernatural#dean winchester x you#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester au#dean winchester x female!reader#supernatural dean#dean winchester fluff#dean x you#dean winchester x original female character#spn#supernatural fluff
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Series Masterlist: The Honorable Choice
Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC
Summary: June 1872. Captain Dean Winchester of the U.S. Cavalry is tasked with one job: break a wild mustang. He just didn’t expect the woman who infiltrates his camp, intent on freeing her tribe’s horse.
AN: I got inspired after a recent rewatch of Spirit: The Stallion of the Cimarron (literally a perfect movie), as well as having Yellowstone in the back of my brain. I thought this idea might be a good fit for @jacklesversebingo.
**Disclaimer: I’ve done extensive research for this one, both on the American Indian Lakota tribe, and on American history during this time in the late 1800s (AKA: the Old West, during the American Indian Wars and the Sioux Wars). Of course, one of my main goals is to avoid inaccuracies, both historical and cultural.
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Prompt: Western AU
Series Tags/Warnings: 18+ only. Racism, angst, violence, protective Dean, eventual smut, perilous situations, fluff and spice, along with other chapter-specific tags.
🎵 Listen While You Read: The Spirit Soundtrack
Chapters:
Part 1 - Pride & Prejudice
Part 2 - Death & Sacrifice
Part 3 - Worthy
Series Complete!
🎙️ Podcast Fics:
A “podfic” is where you can listen to the story narrated - in this case by my amazing friend Sandra - @talltalesandbedtimestories.
Listen to Part 1 -
Listen to Part 2 -
Listen to Part 3 -
Join My Patreon 🌟 For early access to new stories, bonus content, first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!
Jacklesverse Bingo24 Masterlist
Dean Winchester Series List
Dean Winchester Masterlist
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Dean W. Tag List:
Comment below if you'd like to be tagged in this series! 💜
Or follow @zepskieswrites (with notifications on) to get notified every time I drop a new story or chapter.
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#The Honorable Choice Masterlist#Jacklesversebingo24#dean winchester#dean winchester angst#dean winchester x oc#supernatural#spn#dean winchester fanfiction#dean x oc#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural x reader#supernatural x oc#spn fanfic#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x oc#jensen ackles fanfiction#jackles#dean winchester au#western au#dean au#dean winchester x original character#dean winchester x original female character#dean winchester x ofc#benny lafitte#podfic#castiel#supernatural imagine
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The Meet Cute - Chapter Two
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Summary: After a drunken mistake comes a surprising turn of events the morning after. With a helpful push from your best friend, will you finally stop second guessing yourself for once? Will you finally take the risk with your heart?
Word Count: 2.7K
AN: Hey guys! It's finally here, part 2 of The Meet Cute. I'm sorry it's taken me so long, I really wanted to make a return to this story worth it. (I hope I've done so lol) and hopefully you'll be pleased to know, there will be more to this story, possibly another chapter or 2 👀
Warnings: FLUFF! Swearing, some self-doubt, not much else.
Tagging: @zepskies , @kr804573 , @roseblue373
Main Masterlist
Series Masterlist
The first thing you noticed when you woke up was the pounding in your head. It was as if a marching band had set up camp in your skull, playing the world’s worst rendition of a pop hit on repeat. The second thing you noticed was the light streaming through the curtains—way too bright for the morning after regrettable amounts of alcohol consumed the night before. You groaned, pulling the blanket over your head to escape the merciless sunlight.
Snippets of the previous night began to filter through the fog in your mind: drinking at the bar, Dean’s cocky smirk, Matty ranting about “all the hot ones being straight” after learning about Sam’s fiancé, and...dancing? You groaned again. You vaguely remembered Dean’s hands on your waist, his laughter mixing with yours as the two of you spun around on the dance floor.
You rubbed your temples and turned over, trying to piece it all together and froze. There was someone in bed with you.
Your heart stopped as you stared at the silhouette next to you under the blanket. Broad shoulders, messy hair, the faintest hint of stubble visible on the face buried in the pillow. Oh god. Oh no.
Your stomach churned as you tried to remember more. Did you and Dean—? No, surely not. You weren’t that drunk. Were you?
“Please don’t be Dean. Please don’t be Dean,” you whispered to yourself, panic mounting. Summoning all your courage, you reached out a shaky hand and poked the figure in the arm.
“Mmmf,” came the groggy response, followed by a voice that was far too familiar. “What are you doing?”
You ripped the blanket off the figure and came face to face with a very dishevelled, very sleepy Matty. Relief crashed over you like a tidal wave, and you collapsed back onto the mattress.
“Matty!” You yelled, half-laughing, half-screaming.
Your best friend popped his head out from under the covers, hair sticking up in about twelve directions. He squinted at you. “Why are you yelling? I’m hungover, too, you know.”
“Why are you in my bed?!”
“Because I’m a saint,” he said, rolling onto his back with a dramatic sigh. “You were freaking out about ‘doing something dumb,’ so I stayed. You’re welcome, by the way.”
You flopped back onto your pillow, relief giving way to irritation. “You couldn’t have stayed on the couch.”
“Do I look like a couch person to you?” He scoffed, giving you an offended look.
You groaned, rubbing your temples. “What happened last night? And why does it feel like I’ve been run over by a truck?”
Matty propped himself up on his elbows, his grin way too smug for someone in his condition. “Well, let’s see. You had a very friendly dance marathon with Dean—who, by the way, was very into you—and then, when your legs gave out, he carried you back to your room like some kind of knight in shining armour.”
Your face was on fire by this point. “Please tell me that’s all.”
“That’s all I saw,” he said innocently. “But who knows what Dean was thinking about?”
You grabbed a pillow and hit him square in the face.
Matty laughed and ducked away before adding, “Oh, and by the way, we’re all getting lunch together.” He said nonchalantly and paused as he checked the time on his phone. “In about two hours.”
Your jaw dropped. “WHAT?!”
“Don’t thank me yet,” Matty said with a wink. “Dean was all for it, but I figured you’d try to hide from him out of sheer awkwardness. This is me, as your best friend, forcing you to take a chance for once.”
“I—Matty, why?!” You groaned, covering your face with your hands.
“Because you,” he said, poking your shoulder, “are a chronic avoider, and I, as your very wise and selfless friend, refuse to let you sabotage yourself. Dean’s hot and clearly into you. You’d be stupid not to at least try, even if it’s just some fun.”
Your stomach churned again—this time from nerves. “But he’s way out of league.” You tried to reason, and Matty rolled his eyes so hard you were surprised they didn’t fall out of his head.
“Bitch, please.” Matty sassed, making you raise a brow at him. “You’re gorgeous, you’re hilarious, and you planned a wedding that people are going to talk about for years. If Dean doesn’t see that, he’s blind. Now get up and get ready. Wear something that says, ‘I’m effortlessly perfect but also fun to be around.’”
You stared at him. “That’s not a thing.”
“It is,” Matty said with a grin. “And you’re about to pull it off. You’re welcome.”
As he strolled out of the room, you flopped back onto the bed, nerves tangling with excitement. Matty might be meddlesome, but he was also usually right. Maybe it was time to take a risk. After all, it’s not like you had to marry the guy. What was the worst that could happen?
It was nearing 12 o'clock by the time you made your way downstairs to the little restaurant at the other end of the venue. Your sister was still indisposed; she too had had a wild night, and you left a message for her to meet you when she was feeling “alive” so you could see her off before her honeymoon trip to the Maldives.
Lucky.
The walk to the restaurant was simultaneously the longest and shortest of your life. Apparently, Dean had gotten your number at some point last night when you received a text from him not long after you finally got out of bed, reconfirming these so-called ‘lunch plans’ Matty had made.
The latter man strolled beside you, looking far too pleased with himself, while you mentally picked apart every detail of your outfit. You’d spent an embarrassing amount of time staring at your closet, replaying Matty’s words: “Wear something that says, ‘I’m effortlessly perfect but also fun to be around.’” How could an outfit say all that?
You eventually landed on a soft sundress in a colour that complimented your skin tone, paired with sandals that were cute but practical. “Effortlessly perfect” turned out to be very effortful, and “fun to be around” was apparently a leather satchel bag with tassels.
“Are you sure this is okay?” You asked Matty for the seventh time as you tugged at the hem of your dress.
Matty gave you a once-over and smirked. “You look great. Very, ‘Oops, I woke up like this, but let’s drink mimosas and talk about art.’”
You groaned. “I hate you.”
“Not as much as you’ll hate yourself if you mess this up,” he shot back, opening the door to the restaurant for you with an exaggerated bow.
“Now, go be charming.”
Inside, Dean and Sam were already seated, looking annoyingly perfect. Sam had an air of quiet confidence as he sipped from a mug. Dean, on the other hand, was leaning back in his chair, a lazy grin spreading across his face when he saw you.
“Hey!” Dean called, standing to greet you both. “You look beautiful.”
The blush hit you before you could stop it.
“Thanks. You don’t look too bad yourself.” In fact, he looked amazing. Instead of the black suit you’d seen him in last night, he was clad in a dark maroon flannel that accentuated those broad shoulders you’d had the pleasure of hanging onto last night, and some dark-wash jeans that showed off his long and slightly bowed legs.
Dean stepped closer, his green eyes sparkling as he leaned down and kissed your cheek. You had to hide your surprise with a clearing of your throat and a polite smile. Beside you, Matty muttered, “Smooth,” under his breath, and you fought against jabbing your elbow into his side. Why was this a good idea again?
“Matty,” Sam greeted with a polite nod, clearly still wary after last night’s shenanigans.
“Sammy,” Matty said brightly, taking the seat across from him in the booth and leaning in with a conspiratorial grin. “Miss me?”
Sam shakes his head with a chuckle. “You’re persistent. I’ll give you that.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” Matty quipped, and you rolled your eyes at the two of them before sitting across from Dean, who looked entirely too amused by the dynamic. Before any more conversations could flow, a server came over with a fresh pot of coffee for your table, and you thanked her gratefully.
“So,” Dean said, resting his forearms on the table as he focused on you, “did you survive the hangover?”
“Barely,” you admitted with a laugh, stirring into your coffee your usual amount of sugar and creamer. “Thanks for, you know, last night. For carrying me to my room. I’m honestly mortified you had to even do that.” You chuckled, heavily embarrassed. Dean didn’t seem to mind though as he waved a dismissive hand.
“Don’t be. I had a great time.” He grinned wide and genuine, eyes shining with something unspoken.
“Well, I appreciate it either way.” You mumbled shyly. The intensity of his gaze made your stomach flip, and you looked down at your cup, fiddling with the rim nervously. Why is he even interested? Whispered the insecurities you fought to ignore. Made more difficult without the help of your good friend, Jameson.
“You okay?” Dean’s voice softened, pulling you out of your thoughts.
“Yeah, sorry,” you said quickly, forcing a smile. “Still shaking off the whisky haze.”
Dean didn’t look convinced but didn’t press you.
“So, how did you two meet?” Sam asked curiously, and Matty piped up before you could, taking charge of the storytelling, as per usual.
“Well, it’s a tale for the ages.”He started rather dramatically, really putting his 3 months of drama school to use.
“Picture it: college orientation day. I’m walking across campus, radiating my usual charm, when suddenly—bam! Y/N crashes into me, spilling an entire tray of cafeteria tacos all over the both of us.”
Your cheeks burnt as Dean and Sam stifled laughter. “That is not how it happened!”
“Oh, it absolutely is,” Matty countered, grinning wickedly. “And then—because she felt so bad—she tried to help clean me up but slipped in some of the taco sauce, nearly taking us both out.”
“I didn’t slip,” you protested, laughing despite yourself. “And it was nachos, not tacos.”
“Details,” Matty said with a dismissive wave. “The point is, it was fate. She looked up at me, covered in salsa and regret, and I thought, ‘This girl is going to make my life infinitely more interesting.’”
Dean chuckled, and his gaze softened as he looked at you, as if he could relate, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“That’s a pretty solid start to a friendship.” Sam nodded through his amusement.
And you shrugged, biting back a grin. “I guess if someone’s willing to stick around after that kind of first impression, they’re worth keeping around.”
Matty placed a hand over his heart. “You hear that? She kept me. Truly, I’m blessed.”
Dean laughed, the sound warm and genuine. “I don’t know if I’m more impressed by the nacho incident or by the fact that you’ve put up with him this long.”
“Neither,” you teased, sipping your coffee. “The real mystery is why he’s put up with me.”
Dean shook his head, his eyes meeting yours. “I think I can see why.” You looked away shyly, but you were unable to fight your smile.
“How about either of you? Any stories, and by stories I mean humiliating tales, to share?” Matty began stirring his coffee, just like he was the conversation.
"Well... there is one that springs to mind.” Sam teases, and Dean groans, already bracing himself.
“Oh, come on. Do we really need to—”
“Oh, we do,” Sam and Matty interrupt simultaneously, making you giggle into your hand.
“How about accidentally signing up for a salsa dance class because someone thought it was a ‘salsa tasting’ event?” Sam informed with a jab of his thumb in Dean’s direction.
Matty’s eyes lit up as he nearly choked on his laughter. “Please tell me he actually went through with it.”
Sam nodded, his grin widening. “Oh, he did. The full two hours. By the end, the instructor gave him a ‘most improved’ sticker, which I think was more pity than praise.”
Dean shook his head, a rueful smile tugging at his lips. “I stand by it. A little footwork never hurt anyone.” He shot you a quick look. “Those skills aided me just fine last night.” Again you had to look away at his implication with a shy bite to your bottom lip. Memories of Dean’s talented footwork and moves around the dance floor flashing in your mind.
“Alright,” Matty announced, “before we continue, what’s everyone ordering? Because I, for one, need to eat for a family of four to recover from this morning.”
The conversation shifted, and for the next few minutes, you all ordered your food, the playful banter continuing. Your nervousness started to fade. The tension in your chest eased with every laugh Dean pulled from you. He was funny, easygoing, and had a way of making everything feel like an adventure. Even when Sam joined in, adding his own dry humour to the mix, you felt more and more comfortable in their company.
Dean leaned in to ask you more questions about your life, and you’d told him how you’d found a niche for planning, event planning more specifically, and decided to make a career out of it. Dean seemed to hang onto every word, genuinely interested.
In turn you learnt more about his job as a mechanic and co-owner at his dad’s garage that specialised in classic cars, which you found to be incredibly impressive. And as you listened to him talk about his work, you noticed how his hands moved with confidence and ease, like he was describing something he was deeply passionate about.
You also learnt that both of them were fellow ‘Kansans.’ Whereas you resided in Topeka, Dean and Sam lived in Lawrence, and although it was only a town over, it explained why you hadn’t run into either of them beforehand.
As the conversation continued, you found yourself relaxing more and more. The nervous energy that had been gnawing at your insides started to dissolve.
By the time the food arrived, you were laughing freely, engaging with everyone at the table, and… finding yourself feeling comfortable with Dean. It didn’t hurt that, with each passing moment, the way he looked at you felt more intense. Like he was paying attention to you in a way that felt different from the others.
After everyone had finished eating, Matty took it upon himself to grab the check—naturally. He reached for it with a dramatic flourish, blocking Dean’s hand.
“Absolutely not,” Matty declared. “This is on me. Consider it an investment.” He aimed the last words at you with a wink, and you looked at him incredulously.
When you all stood up to leave, the others moved on ahead, but Dean lingered by your side. You felt his presence, warm and easygoing beside you, and you couldn’t quite suppress the smile tugging at your lips.
“So,” he said, his voice low and teasing as he slowed his pace to match yours, “any chance I can see you again sometime? Without the audience?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the suggestion. The sudden weight of the question hung in the air between you, and you weren’t sure how to respond. Everything about this felt a little surreal—like a moment that could go either way. But then Matty’s words echoed in your mind: ‘Don’t sabotage yourself.’
You took a breath, steadied your nerves, and smiled, a little shy but hopeful. “Yeah. I think I’d like that.”
Dean’s grin widened, and for the first time in a long time, you felt a flicker of hope. Maybe this wasn’t as terrifying as you thought. Maybe it was time to take the risk, to stop second-guessing yourself, and let things unfold as they were meant to.
Dean stepped a little closer, his hand brushing yours as you walked side by side toward the door. You couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of something worth the gamble.
AN: Okay, so how do we feel about the reunion between these two? And Matty's glorious input? 😂 He honestly is the best cheerleader! I hope you guys enjoyed this, let me know what you think and if you're excited for the proper date with Dean 👀
If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters let me know.
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#sam winchester#spn fanfic#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#spnfamily#spn#original character#spn fandom#dean x female!reader#dean x you#dean x reader fluff#fluff#Matty is the best friend we all need#The Meet Cute Series#abbalina writes
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Leaving me wanting more
Paring- Dean Winchester
Series- supernatural
Warnings- lotta fighting, course it’s the supernatural- that means guns too and ghosts. Kissing, erm might be some swearing it is me we’re talking about.
Summary- you’re introduced to the famous Winchester brothers by their dad on a hunt. Where you connect with Dean quite a lot more than you thought you would. Developing feelings fast, thanks to his dad’s plan all along.
No real timeline in this.
Requests are open my lovelies, any and all characters <3
John drove his car into the run down flat car park and parked it in once of the spaces. “I’m sure this case won’t be easy” he told his sons. “Since when do me and Sammy like easy” Dean chuckled flashing his teeth and cocking his gun.
I recognised the famous car straight away and eyed it up from my car parked in the shadows. I couldn’t really see anyone’s faces so it was lucky I knew the car. My gun was slid into my belt behind my back and I pulled my top down covering it before opening my door and stepping out. Confidently, I walked towards the car in the hope they’d get out and I wouldn’t be standing there awkwardly. I was right, they did. John first of course. I knew he was bringing his two sons but I’d never met them before.
Id heard endless story’s about the famous Winchester brothers who had cheated death multiple times and killed hundreds of demons and the rest of the ugly’s in our world. “Hi darling, are you okay” John came over to hug me. I smiled embracing him back “of course, I always get excited when you call John”. “dad who’s this?” One of them asked as the two brothers stepped out of the car apprehensively. 
He turned to his two sons with a beam “this is y/n, she’s the only daughter of one of my dear friends who passed, I thought I’d call in some back up for this hunt”. “You’re a hunter?” The one with shorter hair raised his eyebrow looking me up and down. “Yeah, do I not fit the description?” I smirked putting my hand on my hip. “Not particularly- never met a hunter that looks like- you” he smirked, his face a tad more comfortable now. “Dean- that’s Sammy” he introduced himself.
I nodded at him “nice to meet you, though I feel like I already do- I’ve heard a lot of stories” “so you’re a fan?” He walked over to me leaning on the car slightly. “I’d use the word impressed, rather than fan” I folded my arms trying to keep his ego in tact. He was even better looking closer up, his eyes were a gorgeous green colour and his smile lit up the dark night that surrounded us. “Enough chitter, we have a case at hand” John nodded towards the block of flats.
Sitting here waiting I’d already analysed every part of the bock. They were clearly run down, needed more than just a lick of paint. They needed to be knocked down. But it was still someone’s home and still my job to save it. We walked inside and went towards the lift. “It’s out of order, we’ll have to use the stairs” Sam stated pointing behind him. So we turned back around and went up the stairs. “What floor is it?” Dean asked John who was at the front of the group and first up the stairs.
“Thirteen” he answered with a smile. “Thirteen! You want me to walk up thirteen staircases?” “Technically there’s two for each floor- so it’s actually twenty six” Sam joked from the back of the group. “I’m sure you’ve faced worst Dean” I giggled turning to look at him. “I’d rather face twenty six demons! with no weapons, than climb this many stairs” he wined as we kept walking. “Don’t wish too hard- we have no clue what we’re walking into here” John warned him.
When we eventually got to the top floor (after Dean had been moaning the whole time and prolonged us) we headed for the door number given to John. He knocked three times before a woman opened the door. We could only see one eye, the chain restricted the door opening fully. “Oh good- I thought you were her again” she breathed closing the door and reopening it with no chain. She was a short woman with a brown bob and big blue eyes. Her lips were thin but were smothered in red lipstick.
Though she was slightly shaking when standing in front of us. “Hi- my names y/n- this is John we spoke to you on the phone” I smiled small just to let her know we were friendly, while I also looked around the apartment. “I’m Vanessa, Come in, come in- thank you for coming” she waved her hand indicating for us to come in, showing her chipped, bitten nails. However what fascinated me more was the rings she had on her finger. One of them looked like it could have been made out of bone, it had an amazing purple crystal on it that almost appeared to be glowing. “This is your house?” Dean questioned looking around. It wasn’t the tidiest, in fact there were bin bags everywhere and bare shelves. It looked like she was getting ready to move out.
“No- no no this was my mothers house, come- shall we sit in the living room I will explain the story” she closed the door and then waddled past us with her finger in her mouth. Me and Dean looked at each other, I could tell he was just as sceptical as I was. John was first in the living room of course, he was sat down opposite her. Dean sat next to his dad and I sat next to Dean leaving Sammy to sit next to the woman. It was probably for the best, I’d heard he was the most sympathetic of the Winchester men.
“So this was your mother’s house? And you don’t live here?” Dean raised an eyebrow. “No I live in England- I flew here for a few weeks to clean out my mums flat because- she passed you see” she bit her lip. But it wasn’t a sad look that flooded her face it was a guilty look. I picked up on this instantly. “You didn’t speak much huh?” I tilted my head, the two brothers looked at me with a confused expression but their attention was soon moved back onto Vanessa. “No we didn’t, she hated me for moving to England- she felt like I was leaving her and- I did- we lost contact, it was my fault but my now husband he didn’t want to move to America so I had no choice” she shrugged clearly tearing up.
“So- why have you called us here Vanessa” Sammy said in a soft voice. “Well you see, when I came here- things started to go wrong, I would pack things into bags and then they would be all put back when Id turn back around” she explained to us. “There’s messages on the mirror when I shower telling me to get out of the house- objects flying across the room trying to hit me- I haven’t been able to get anything done” she shook her head and her bottom lip began trembling.
“Well I think we know what the problem is here” I looked at John who nodded at me. “I just want to pack up so I can sell this place and move on with…” in that moment a loud bang came from the corridor cutting Vanessa off. “Oh not again!” She whimpered into her hands. Me and Dean jumped up but when i opened the door a lady with long grey hair and a long white nighty ran towards me screaming and pushing me backwards. I went flying into Dean who practically caught me. I had to reset quickly because she was still coming.
“ANYONE HAVE SALT?” I shouted dodging her attacks before she disappeared. Vanessa at this point was screaming, John and Sam had jumped up. “Only in the car” John whispered feeling pretty vulnerable in the open like this. We all did. “I have some! In the kitchen” Vanessa got up to go and get it but as soon as she stood, an ornament from the fire place was thrown directly at her. She ducked moaning out in distress and it smashed against the wall. I eyed the door and then made a run for it to the kitchen. “Y/n!” Dean shouted after me but as he ran to the door it swung, slamming shut.
“Y/n!” He shouted pulling the door, however it didn’t budge. I was busy anyway, I ran to the kitchen past all the stuff the ghost had broken in the hallway. She was standing in the kitchen with her head on her shoulder smiling. “You need to leave this place!” I hissed at her slamming my eyebrows down. She raced towards me but I dodge her, she quickly turned and smacked me into the table and chairs. They broke underneath me and so I hit the wall. But the ghost was still there. I got up as fast as I could eyeing the salt in the cupboard that was open.
However, when I reached for it everything in the cupboard flew out at me. I squealed being attacked by a bag of pasta and a tin of carrots, before a package of oats hit me on the side of my face knocking me to the ground. The ghost made a run for me again but I reached for the salt, opened the bottle and chucked it at her. She let out a scream before she disappeared momentarily. I heard the front room door opening before thundering footsteps in the hall way. “Are you okay?” Dean blinked rushing over to help me up. He took my hand and then my hip and I looked up at him when I stood.
Our bodies were basically touching and his arm was around my waist. His eyes drew me in so much I didn’t know what to say. “Y/n?!” John rushed, so he could get an answer from me. I nodded pulling away from Dean but patting him on the chest. “Yeah I’m fine thank you” I tucked a strand of my hair behind my ear nervously. I got her with the salt. Sam and Vanessa walked in looking at the mess on the floor. “My goodness- my mother is the one trying to hurt me” she winced again covering her mouth with shock. “In my opinion Vanessa- your mum doesn’t want you to move her stuff out” I told her softly.
“And as you didn’t have a great relationship I’m guessing she doesn’t want you taking her stuff or even being in her house” “but she left it to me” she shook her head confused about the situation. “Y/n is right, she doesn’t want you here” John validated, giving me a nod. “Perhaps she couldn’t change her will- but she definitely wants you gone” Dean nodded to Vanessa. “So what do we do?” She trembled looking to John for an answer. “Well first we need…” Sam started talking but his father cut him off. “Y/n, show us how it’s done” John raised his eyebrows at me.
Any case I went on with him he’d give me more and more responsibilities, but never full control. My smiled turned into a grin and I threw him a knowing look. “Where was your mother buried Vanessa?” I turned to her, “um- just across town in the Catholic Church graveyard” “and her name?” I raised an eyebrow. “Dorthy gale- how ever will that help us?” “We need to burn her body, that will get rid of her once and for all” I explained feeling pretty confident in what I was saying. I was a pretty good hunter but it was a natural thing rather than a learning thing.
I could fight but the information was always harder for me to attain. John helped me quite a lot and of course my other hunter friends. But I still studied quite a lot on my own. “We should split up- two of us will go and burn the bones and two of us will stay here incase Dorthy comes back” I looked to John for validation and he smiled eying his son next to me. “You and Dean should go to the graveyard- me and Sam will stay here” he nodded at Dean who looked like he was taking this very seriously.
“Here” I passed the bottle of salt to Sam. “You can make a circle in the front room” “yeah, and we will look for any iron” he nodded to his dad who liked the plan. We all started moving to go to our stations but as me and Dean went to leave John called out his name. “You look after her okay” he smacked his son on the back. “She’s my top priority” he nodded once. “She is” he agreed before walking off to the living room. Dean put a hand on my back as we exited the front door, to gently move me.
“Any idea why my dad paired us up?” He raised an eyebrow at me with a smirk. “Maybe he thought you needed my protection” I shrugged laughing “or maybe he’s bored of you so he chose a different pair” “oi” I laughed hitting him on the chest as we descended the stairs. He was a lot more chatty and a lot less winey on the way down. “So you’re dad? What was his name?” “Oh I didn’t know my dad- he left before I was born” I smiled innocently, not really caring because I’d never known anything different. “So- my dad and your mum were friends”.
“Uh huh, they met on a case- she was almost a victim of a vampire attack but he saved her and taught her what’s really out there” I explained as we got into deans car. “So she became a hunter?” “No- she kept her job as a lawyer but she knew- so she was prepared- she taught me everything John taught her I do think she secretly went on a few hunts behind my back but nothing I remember” I shrugged thinking about her. “Do you mind me asking how she passed?” He looked across to me sadly. “No- it was a demon, it came for her hunter friend and she was collateral damage I suppose- I came home from a friends house to my front door being open and the scene in the dining room”.
“I noticed it wasn’t human so I called some of her other hunter friends and- one of them must have told John because he came- he was really good to me” I explained thinking back to the incident. A smiled crossed my face because if I didn’t think about the good, I’d cry about the bad. “I’m sorry” Dean rubbed my thigh as he drove. I put my hand on his and traced it with my thumb. “You don’t have to be, I’ll see her again one day, I have the memories of her and I fight for her everyday- eradicating as many of these things as I can to avenge her”.
“You’re brave- I like your attitude” he told me with a smile as we parked in the church. “Well now you know my story” I shrugged looking across at him. “She’d be proud of you” he nodded seriously at me, I could tell it had reminded him of his own mother. “Mary would be proud of you too Dean” I beamed before getting out the car. Dean grabbed two shovels from his boot of tricks and we headed to find her grave. We said whoever’s first gets to drop the lighter but Dean found it first and made sure I knew about it. He just made me laugh the whole time. Maybe I was starting to feel a little something for him.
It didn’t take us very long to dig it up, he dropped the lighter of course but he let me pour the petrol. And we stood there for a few seconds, just watching the flames eat her bones. “Id hate to be this vengeful when I pass” I whispered to him. “You won’t be” he shook his head rubbing my back as I stared into the pit of hell. “Would you burn my bones for me Dean- if I did” I put my pinky finger out to him. He looked at it chuckling before pinky promising me. “You have to do the same for me though” “it’s a pact” I nodded with a big smile looking into his eyes again.
Even though it was dark they still shone through the shadows at me. We were still holding our pinky’s together as we stared at each other. His other hand came up to my face and he brushed my cheek softly. I moved my head forward and with that I saw a panic spread in his eyes. “I should- call my dad- tell him it’s done” Dean nodded trying to find his phone in a fit. “Yeah- you should do that uh huh” I nodded awkwardly putting my hair behind my ear. I was glad it was dark because my face had probably turned very red by now.
Dean let John know what we had done and we made our way back to the car in silence. But all I could think about was that moment between us. The way he looked when the moonlight shone on the side of his gorgeous face. The silence between us wasn’t awkward it was just, sad. Something was telling me we both wanted it to be a moment but something we couldn’t control was stopping us. Deans phone rang distracting my thought process. “Dad?” He answered confused about why he was ringing. “What are you talking about? We just burnt the bones?” Dean frowned, knitting his eyebrows together.
“I don’t know- we’ll be back in a second” he ended the phone call and put the gas on harder. “Dean?” I questioned “she’s not dead” he answered gritting his teeth together. “What- how can’t she be dead I don’t…” I trailed off thinking. “I don’t know- we got all the bones” dean tutted getting pissed off by the situation. “No- we didn’t” I shook my head as we drove into the apartment blocks again. I flung open the door and he followed. “Grab the salt gun” “y/n! What are you talking about?” Dean questioned as he threw open his boot. “Vanessa’s ring- it’s made of bone I’m sure it is”.
“Her ring?” Dean repulsed as he closed his boot and ran towards the entrance doors. “I saw it when we came in- that has to be why dorthy is still there” I shook my head positive in what I was saying. I was always a very observant hunter. There wasn’t any time to talk this trip up the stairs. We ran as fast as we could. I pounded on the front door but it wasn’t opened by anyone when it creaked ajar. The apartment was silent, I looked to Dean apprehensively before a loud bang came from the bedroom. “Sammy!” Dean yelled in search for his brother, running past me. “Bedroom!” Sam called before another bang came.
Vanessa was there and John too being cornered by this thing. “There was no iron” Sammy called out. Dean shot Dorothy instantly with the salt gun and she vanished. “Vanessa” I called out “your ring, the purple one- what’s it made out of” “uh- uh it’s my mother’s finger bone- I wanted to keep her close all the time so I had this made just after her burial” she bit her lip spinning it on her finger. “So we did miss a bone” John realised peering at the ring. “I take it you need to burn this” she slid it off clutching it to her heart. “Goodbye mum” she whispered before plodding over to me.
Dean took his lighter out but as he did I was pushed out into the hall way and I dropped the ring. Dorthy was back. I scrambled up while Dean tried shooting her again. It had rolled into the kitchen and I leaped to clutch it in my hands. I looked around setting my eyes on the gas stove. I turned the knob on it seeing the flame rise. In that moment the ghost appeared in front of me making a run for me. I dropped the ring in the fire and she let out an ear splitting scream. The group ran into the kitchen as the ghost caught fire and eventually, vanished for good this time.
“Is it over?” Vanessa blinked in a state of shock. I nodded looking at the ash of the ring now on the cooker. Dean came over to me putting his gun on the side and rubbing my back. I laid my head on his chest taking it all in while he comforted me. “You’re so brave” he whispered to me. “Thanks for having my back” I smiled up at him. We eventually said our goodbyes to Vanessa who thanked us and even dove into her purse giving us a fair share of money for our work. We told her it wasn’t necessary but she insisted. The walk down the stairs was silent and I took a deep breath of fresh air when we got outside.
“I never wanna see them steps again” Dean huffed making Sammy laugh at him. “It was nice to meet you y/n” Sam reached out to shake my hand. “Mmh likewise, I can’t wait to tell this story the next time someone brings you two up” I giggled behind my hand. “It was a pleasure” he chuckled before walking off to his car. John came over to hug me goodbye. “Always nice working with you y/n” he breathed squeezing me. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me John” I whispered hugging him tightly back. “You don’t need to thank me sweetheart, you stay strong yeah, I’m sure I’ll see you soon” he pulled away but still kept a hand on my back to rub it.
I nodded a few times before turning to Dean who looked like he was waiting patiently. “Well” I sighed smiling, waking over to him. “You ever need help on a hunt- feel free to call me” “I just might take you up on that Dean Winchester” I giggled tucking my hair behind my ear, but I knew I was lying. “Goodbye y/n” he wrapped his arms around me holding me tightly. “It was nice meeting you Dean” I swallowed against his chest. Something tugged in my heart when we walked away in different directions. Something that could have been will never be and so I got back into my car, and they got into theirs.
“What do you think of her?” John smiled at his sons but focused his attention on Dean. “Yeah she’s great, a good hunter- she’ll be really skilled one day” Sammy emphasised from the back seat. Dean kept quiet. “Dean?” “Yeah I agree- with what Sam said” he nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “You seemed to connect quite a bit” “yeah she’s cool, knows what she’s doing” “so… anything else?” John smirked trying to him something. “Dad I don’t get what you’re trying to get at?” Dean shrugged his shoulders again but in more of a stroppy way. “Oh my gosh” he put his hands on his face. “Did you like her Dean” Sam rolled his eyes chuckling in the back.
“What no- that would be disrespectful to you dad I wouldn’t do that”. John frowned shaking his head “why do you think I invited her on this case? I wanted you two to meet- I think you’d be good for each other”. Out the corner of deans eye he saw my car pull out the apartment car park. “You- wanted to set us up?” Dean rose his eyebrow watching my car. “Yeah” John widened his eyes. “You should have given her your number- instead of just empty promises you didn’t plan on keeping” John rolled his eyes laughing. “But- I thought you’d be fuming” “no Dean” he laughed shaking his head.
“Dad- please- catch up with her!” Dean pointed to my car flying down the road. “Yeah?” “Yes- I need to tell her I like her!” He frantically thrusted his hand toward my direction. John started the car up and sped out and down the road following me. It didn’t take them long to catch up with me. I saw John indicate on a lay by and did the same thing, assuming they wanted to say something to me. Dean jumped out the car and ran toward me. “Did you forget something?” I questioned opening my door.
“Yeah- to give my my number and ask you the time I’m picking you up for our date?” “What- are you talking about” I half smiled probably going red again. “I’m sorry I pulled away- I didn’t think my father would appreciate me making a move on you- but I like you y/n, I know you were lying you were never going to call me because I pulled away but I want you to” “I’ll take your number Dean- and you can pick me up on Saturday- at seven” I smiled passing him my phone. “Sounds good, looking forward to it” he grinned typing in his number and then passing it back. “Do you know what else I will have though Dean?” I smiled leaning in closer to him.
“That kiss that you owe me”. He chuckled putting his hand on my cheek and rubbing it before he leant down and met my lips. His were soft, he was gentle with me which I wasn’t expecting for such a big man. My cheeks burned red across from his as we met with the exact same rhythm. “You definitely left me wanting more Dean Winchester” I smiled up at him. “I’ll see you Saturday gorgeous” he whispered quickly kissing me on the lips again.
“Can’t wait” I waved as he was walking back to his car. What the fuck. Hold on, rewined.
I’m going on a date with THEE Dean Winchester.
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Dean Winchester Masterlist
© credits for the owners of the pictures used. they don't belong to me. credit is not mine for the pictures.
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CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR (+18)
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
HIATUS (FINAL CHAPTER)
FINAL CHAPTER
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The L Word
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1,273
Warnings- Season 5 spoilers
You awoke with a deep gasp, your heart pounding and eyes wide. Sitting up and looking around the room you realize that you’re ok. Sam was asleep on the motel bed next to you, while Dean slept peacefully beside you. His chest rose and fell steadily, and you were more than grateful that you didn’t wake either of the boys up.
This hunt had been particularly difficult, and you knew the boys were exhausted and they needed their sleep. You were also exhausted, but the nightmares that usually occurred stopped you from being able to sleep.
The truth is, you were defeated. You and the Winchester brothers were working non stop and it was beginning to be one hunt after the other without a break and casualty after casualty with more lives lost than saved. It was kind of Sam’s fault that the world was coming to an end, but he received so much backlash from everyone you figured he’s been punished enough.
You couldn’t help but sigh softly and buried your face into your hands, then running your fingers through your scalp in frustration. Tears pricked at your eyes and you tried desperately to hold them back. All you wanted to do was sleep and get some well needed rest.
“Y/n? S’matter?”
You looked to your right to see Dean looking at you with squinty and sleepy eyes. Guilt coursed through you. “M’sorry De. Go back to sleep I’m alright.”
“What happened? Another nightmare?”
You look at him confused but he knew you better than you knew yourself. “We share a bed at every motel we stay in, and when we aren’t staying in a motel we’re living in the car. If you think I don’t know you by now or picked up on the fact that you’re not alright, you’re crazy.”
You quietly sigh, and look to your arms that were holding onto your legs. “You’re right. M’not alright. I haven’t been for some time.”
“I know.” He says teasingly with a smile playing onto his lips and yours did the same. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“No,-” You shook your head. “But..I really should.”
“I know I’m not the best person to talk to or get advice from. Hell, I bottle everything up and explode when I can’t take it anymore, but take it from me. Talking about your issues is way better than letting your mental health go down the drain…”
“I just…I feel like a failure. We’ve lost so many people in the last few years and with everything going on with the apocalypse… I feel like were losing more casualites than actually saving lives..”
The way he was looking at you was making your heart melt. His complete attention was on you, no distractions and every word you spoke you felt more and more comfortable expressing your feelings to him. You should’ve talked to him more, but you were stubborn just like him.
The truth is, your heart belonged to Dean and it always will. You’ve had your fair share of hookups with him and you knew that’s all you would ever get. Let’s face it, hunters don’t get a happy ending and he made it perfectly clear that it was a friends with benefits relationship.
Everytime he got close to someone it ended up in hurt and death. It’s the reason why he and Cassie never worked out, or why he had to walk away from Lisa. He knew he would never be able to get anything real and that’s why it was easy with you. No feelings or strings attached and you knew about the Supernatural so you understood the life.
Everything went well except you broke the number one rule of your friends with benefits relationship. You grew real feelings. Of course you wouldn’t say anything to Dean, because having him as a friend was better than not having him as anything at all.
“I just… I don’t know how to move forward. Trying so hard to save the world everyday and knowing it’s all on our shoulders is putting so much pressure on me. The clock is ticking and we’re running out of time. Jo and Ellen are dead because of us, Bobby can’t walk because of us…at his point I feel as if the world would be a better place without me” Your eyes welled up with tears and you were desperately trying to push them down.
“Hey hey hey, c’mere…” He cooed gently and pulled you into him. You turned to face him and wrapped your arms around his torso while burying your face into the crock of his neck.
He felt the tears sliding against his skin and his heart broke at the silent sobs that racked your body. He was so in love with you and it terrified him. He fell in love with you at the first hello. His past relationships never worked out but he couldn’t hide his adoration for you. He didn’t want to see you get hurt or to lose you so he figured innocent flirting and hooking up would do no harm.
You meant way more to him than just a hookup. He was scared as fuck to tell you especially now. If he told you how he really felt knowing his luck you would die on him tomorrow.
“Sweetheart, you have no idea how wrong you are..” He says softly. “The world would be a worse place without you in it. It would most likely already be destroyed if you weren’t here. No, this isn’t easy and it takes a toll on me too every single day. But I know for a damn fact without you, me, Sam and Bobby..it.. It wouldn’t be half the world it is. No, things aren’t the best with Bobby but unfortunately in our line of work it’s unpredictable and anything can happen at anytime. I really thought I would be dead by now and here I am at 30 alive and kicking. We’re doing our best and I can’t promise that any of us are going to make it through it, but I know for a fact we’re going to stop the apocalypse. If we go down, then we’re going to go down together and swinging…”
Your silent cries turned into tears, which eventually turned into occasional sniffles as he spoke softly. He always knew the right things to say to make you feel better. “Thank you…” You sniffle quietly and he wraps his arms around you tighter.
“I wish our lives were different sweetheart, because I would love to be normal with you…white picket fence with a dog and some kids..”
You look up at him and the amount of vulnerability in his features made your heart flutter. “I want that more than anything too De…I have strong feelings for you and it scares the shit out of me…”
“I, I feel the same way. I want to use the L word so much…because you deserve nothing more than to hear it every day…but I can’t. M’ scared to shit that if I tell you you’ll be taken from me and I can’t…” He took a deep breath.
“It’s okay De. I understand.”
“C’mere.”
You snuggled deep into him as much as you could while burying your face into his neck once more. He placed a kiss to the top of your head while wrapping his arms around you snugly.
“If somehow we do make it out of this…things will be different. I promise.” He spoke and now you had a reason to want to make it through this and live.
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