#dean x waitress

[fanfictionalraven]

Right Where You Left Me

Title: Right Where You Left Me

Summary: The reader, a waitress at the local diner, has become good friends with Dean. What happens when he disappears without a trace?

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mary Winchester, Castiel

Word Count: 7,309

Warnings: Canon typical violence and peril

Author's Note: This story takes place through the events of the second half of season 12, starting with episode 9 "First Blood". It's also the first story I've actually written and published in nearly 6 years, so grant me a little grace please. Enjoy!!

“Ma’am? Ma’am?” A voice says. You snap from your thoughts and look at the people sitting at the table in front of you. You’d gotten distracted by the bell at the door, a new customer coming in. Not the one you were looking for though. Putting on your best smile, you shake your head slightly. 

“I’m so sorry. Where were we?” You ask, glancing at the notepad in your hand.

“We were trying to ask you about the pie of the day,” the woman says. You nod and try not to sigh.

“Cherry,” you tell her. Dean’s favorite. They order two slices which you deliver to them quickly before going into the kitchen. “Stew, I’m taking a 10,” you announce to the cook. He waves a hand at you and glances at the clock.

“Make it 5,” he shouts as you slip out the back door. Leaning against the wall with a sigh, you slip the brace off of your wrist and roll the sore joint slowly, wincing. 

“This job,” you mumble before pulling your phone from your apron. Going into your recent calls, you hit the name at the top. Dean. He wasn’t going to answer. He hadn’t in weeks after all, calls or texts. It rings…and rings…and rings. Just as you’re about to give up, the final ring is cut off.

“Hello?” A woman’s voice asks, curiously. Confusion and a million unpleasant thoughts sweep over you in an instant.

“I’m sorry. I was trying to reach Dean,” you say.

“This is his phone. At least, I think it is…who is this?” She asks. You sigh and run a hand over your face.

“My name’s Y/N. I…I work at a diner and Dean’s one of my regulars. I haven’t seen him in a while and…I was worried,” you tell her. You can hear the confusion in her voice when she responds.

“A waitress who has her customer’s numbers and calls to check up on them?” She asks.

“No. Well…yes, but…Dean’s more than just a customer,” you say.

“What exactly is Dean then?” She asks, a slight edge to her voice. What is Dean? That was the very question you’d spent countless nights asking yourself.

When Dean had first wandered into the diner and sat in your section, he was just another tip. Sure, the two of you had flirted but, to be honest, you flirted with most of your customers. You had bills to pay after all. He came back the very next night, claiming the pie had just been too good. On his fifth visit to the diner, he wandered in just as you clocked out and invited you to join him. You sat in that booth across from him for hours, laughing and talking. At the end of his seventh trip, you slipped your phone number to him on the back of his bill. He’d called you before his car was even out of the parking lot.

That was nearly a year ago and the two of you talked and texted regularly ever since. Sure, he’d go silent for a little while but then he’d saunter into the diner, give you a crooked smile, and ask for the pie of the day. Throughout that year, the two of you flirted, laughed, and teased each other.  There had been a few occasions when he’d catch you as you were leaving, place a to-go order, and then you’d ride in his car out to some deserted spot to talk and eat. You’d gotten to know each other intimately. In an emotional sense that is. Dean always kept you at arm’s length. He’d never asked you on a real date. Your coworkers insisted he was probably married and just stringing you along. And now some strange woman was answering his phone and…

“Y/N?” The woman on the line says.

“Sorry. A friend. Dean’s…a really good friend,” you tell her. “Can I ask who you are?”

“I’m Mary,” she starts and you immediately let out a heavy sigh.

“His mother. Of course,” you breathe with relief.

“Yes,” she says, slightly surprised.

“He’s talked about you a lot. Where is Dean?” You ask. Now, it was Mary’s turn to sigh.

“We don’t know,” she tells you.

“What?” You ask. “It’s his job, isn’t it?” You didn’t know exactly what Dean did but he’d come into the diner beaten and bruised on a few occasions.

“Well…yes,” she says.

“Have you called the police?”

“Y/N, break’s over,” Stew calls from the back door.

“Give me a minute!!” You yell to him. He grumbles and slams the door shut. “You have called the police, right, Mary?”

“That’s not exactly an option,” she says, slowly.

“Well…what about Sam? Or…or Cas?” You ask. There’s the briefest of pauses.

“I’m…I’m here with Mary,” a second voice says.

“And Sam was with Dean,” Mary adds. Cas was there as well, listening to your conversation. You frown and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to think.

“I want to help,” you tell them.

“I’m sorry, Y/N but…we don’t even know you,” she says.

“Well, then, come meet me. I get off at 8:00,” you say before giving her the address for the diner. “If you don’t show up, I’ll call the police and report them missing myself.”

“We’ll be there,” Mary says before disconnecting the line. You slip the phone back into your apron pocket and run your hands over your face. Sliding the brace back onto your wrist, you head back into the diner.

The rest of your shift drags on slowly. You don’t make nearly as much as you could have on tips, your normal perky personality absent. At 8:15, you finally manage to clock out, throwing your apron into the dirty linens bag. You rush out the front door and look around, phone in hand. The front doors of an unfamiliar car open at the same time. Mary, you recognize her from the old pictures Dean had shown you, gets out of the driver’s side, and the man you assume to be Cas gets out as well.

“Y/N?” Mary asks, watching you. You nod and rush over to the two of them.

“While I wish it was under different circumstances, it’s nice to finally meet you both,” you tell them, holding a hand out. Mary gives you a quick once over before placing her hand in yours.

“I wish I could say the same but…”

“Dean never mentioned me,” you say. It wasn’t a question but a statement of fact. You’d often wondered and now you knew for sure. You were a secret.

“So, what exactly do you know about their work?” Mary asks. You frown and shrug.

“Not much. I figure…best case, CIA…worst case, I dunno…the mafia,” you say, more than a little embarrassed. Mary smiles a little and looks down at the ground.

“Not exactly. It’s a bit more freelance than that,” she says.

“Like a bounty hunter?” You ask. Mary shakes her head, looking around.

“I’d rather not discuss it here. Would you be willing to go back to the bun…where the boys live and talk there?” She asks. 

“Of course,” you agree, immediately.

***

Never get in the car with strangers. The age old advice rang through your ears as you rode in the back seat to wherever Mary and Cas were taking you. Of course, these two weren’t exactly strangers. They were at least Dean’s mother and best friend. You truly felt like you actually knew them with how much he’d talked about them.

Mary continues to drive as you watch the cityscape disappear. It isn’t too long before she’s pulling onto a desolate looking road. The road leads into a dark tunnel, only lit by the headlights of Mary’s car. Your eyes have to readjust when she pulls into a much more brightly lit area. Looking around, you find a room that appears to be a garage holding several very old cars. This much at least screamed Dean, relaxing you a little.

“You said they live here?” You ask, trying to wrap your mind around that statement.

“Yes. It’s an old bunker. Used to be home to a secret society, the Men of Letters,” she tells you. You nod and try to keep your face in check. You can feel her watching you in the rearview mirror.

“Are they in this secret society then? You ask as she parks the car.

“No,” she answers. “It died out in America decades ago. There is still an active branch in London though.”

“Douchebags,” Cas mutters. You both look at him and he glances between the two of you. “That’s what Dean calls them.” You let out a small laugh as the three of you get out of the car. Mary leads the way through the bunker quietly. You follow, looking around and trying to take in as much as you can. She leads the two of you into what you assume is a library given the shelves of books all along the walls.

“You drink?” She asks, holding up a bottle of brown liquid. You nod as you take a seat at the table. Admittedly, you were more of a wine drinker but you felt the impending conversation would require something stronger. Mary pours two glasses and sets one in front of you before walking around to the other side of the table. She takes the seat opposite you and looks at the glass, swirling it slightly. “You sure about this, Y/N? Once you know the truth, leaving it behind can be pretty difficult.”

“Please,” is all you manage to say. She nods and throws her drink back quickly.

“Alright,” she starts. “I come from a long line of hunters. Not the kind you’re thinking of. My family hunted monsters. Ghosts, demons, witches, vampires.” You strive to keep your face in check as you take a slow drink. This was not what you were expecting at all.  “When I was 19, dating John, the boys’ father, a demon killed him and my parents. He offered me a deal. He would bring John back and we could live a normal life, as long as I gave him permission to enter my home in 10 years. I was suddenly alone and holding the dead body of the love of my life. I agreed. Ten years later, he entered my home and killed me. John took the boys on the road and they became hunters as well.”

Mary stops as you stand slowly and make your way over to the bottle she had used earlier. With shaking hands, you refill your glass before downing it quickly. This was insane. Mary was insane. There was no way this was real.

“Mary…I…you really expect me to believe all this?” You ask, looking back at her now. She shrugs slightly and looks at Cas. You’d forgotten he was even there. He’d been leaning against a bookshelf behind her, watching you. You look at him as he starts to make his way around the table towards you.

Panic quickly rises in your throat and you have to remind yourself that these are Dean’s people. At least…you’re fairly certain they are. You’d never seen pictures of Cas and the only ones you had seen of Mary were from when Dean was just a child. Now, this strange woman was trying to convince you that monsters were real and your friend hunted them for a living. Cas stops next to you and looks down at your hand.

“Why are you wearing that brace?” He asks. You blink, surprised. You’d half expected him to knock you unconscious.

“I, ummm…” You hold it up and shake your head. “Carpal Tunnel from work.” Cas nods and briefly touches two fingers to your forehead before you can even register the movement.

“You won’t need it anymore,” he says. You stare at him in disbelief before taking the brace off. For the first time in a long time, you don’t feel any pain as you roll your wrist in every direction. You look back up at Cas and then at Mary. She smiles and shrugs.

“Angel,” she says. You know the shock is clear all over your face as Cas helps you back to your seat. The three of you sit in silence for a little while as you process all of this information. You’re grateful for the time they give you.

“You, ummm…” You stop and look at Mary. “You said you died.” She runs a hand across her forehead and looks at you, debating on if you’re prepared for more information. You give her the best reassuring smile you can manage at the moment.

“God’s sister brought me back as a thank you gift to Dean and Sam for helping her reunite with her brother,” she says. You’re absolutely certain your jaw hits the table. 

“Well…that was…nice,” you manage. “And they were on a…a hunt when they disappeared?”

“Lucifer had possessed the president of the United States,” Cas starts. “We were going to exorcise him and return him to his cage in hell.”

“Oh my god,” you mumble, immediately beginning to massage your temples. “This is…this is a lot.”

“Now you know why Dean never told you,” Mary says. You nod, still attempting to rub away the migraine threatening to explode behind your eyes.

“I, ummm…can I take a walk?” You ask. Mary nods, smiling a little. You hoped you were handling this better than she expected. You’re still shaking as you rise from your seat again and make your way down one of the hallways. Your mind thinks back over things Dean had mentioned about his work and, frankly, it lined up. He’d never given you a lot of details but now it was starting to make sense.

You stop in the middle of the hallway and glance around. Your curiosity gets the better of you causing you to push open the door in front of you. It was a bedroom, modestly decorated. You make your way into the room and find a familiar picture sitting on the bedside table. It was the photo Dean had shown you of him and his mother. Glancing around the room, you surmise that it must be his room.

You pull open the drawer of the bedside table and gasp. Inside you find several things, another gun, a handful of credit cards, and fake ID’s. But the most surprising thing was sitting right on top. You gingerly pick up the picture and can’t help but smile. It’s of you, sitting in the front seat of Dean’s car, laughing. You remembered when he’d taken it, one of the many nights you’d spent talking. You didn’t realize he’d had it printed and kept it so close. Maybe you were more than just a secret.

“Y/N?” Mary asks from the doorway. You look up at her and she smiles. “I was getting ready to head out when you called, a vampire thing in Missouri. Cas said he’d take you back.”

“Thank you for being honest with me,” you tell her. She nods once and leaves you alone.

The next few days pass relatively uneventfully. You call Stew and make up a story about a death in the family out of state, telling him you’ll need a week or two off. He reluctantly agrees. You stay at the bunker with Cas after that. Your days are spent diving into the lore books in the old bunker, learning anything and everything you can. Cas teaches you how to do “research”, showing you how to tell the difference between normal weird and supernatural weird. He shows you one of the spare bedrooms but you end up sleeping in Dean’s room instead. 

The two of you are making your way to the library when you hear Cas’s phone ringing. He rushes ahead to answer it and you go over to a new shelf to find something else to study.

“What?” He answers the phone. “Dean?” The book you’d picked out slips from your hand and you rush to his side. “What, what happened? Wh-where are you?” You stare at him, tears stinging your eyes. He grabs a pen and pad off the table and quickly jots down a note. Rocky Mountain National Park. State Route 34. “Yes. – Wait, where? – Wait, what does that…” Cas sighs and sets the phone down, frowning.

“What did he say?? Are they okay??” You ask. He glances at you and shrugs.

“He sounded rushed. Like they were being chased,” he says. You nod and pick up the notepad, trying to hide the rush of emotions you were feeling.

“We’ve got to call Mary. Meet up with her and get to Colorado,” you tell him. He looks at you quickly and frowns.

“No, Y/N. It’s too dangerous for you to come along,” he says, taking the notepad. You shake your head, tears falling freely as you look up at the angel.

“Cas, please,” you beg. His resolve breaks instantly and he sighs, picking his phone back up.

“Dean would not approve,” he mumbles before calling Mary.

The two of you pull into a parking lot several hours later. Mary’s car is already sitting, waiting. She gets out and clenches her jaw when she sees you rise from the passenger side of Cas’s car.

“You got here quickly,” Cas remarks. Mary nods, eyes fixed on you.

“Yep. What the hell is she doing here??” She asks. Cas sighs and looks over at you.

“Mary, please. I won’t get in the way, I swear,” you tell her. Frowning, she shakes her head, her hands coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Y/N, it’s not about you being in the way. We have no idea what we’re walking into. I’m more worried about you getting hurt and what that would do to Dean,” she says. Swallowing hard, you set your jaw. Mary wasn’t going to see you cry too.

“Please. I have to be there. I need to see him with my own eyes,” you plead. She watches you for a moment, debating internally.

“Dean’s gonna kill us,” she says before turning to Cas. “We may want backup.”

“Crowley and Rowena?” He asks. She scoffs and you glance between them.

“The King of Hell and his mother, the witch?” She asks. You frown and shake your head.

“I don’t like the sound of that,” you comment. Mary smiles a little and looks at Cas.

“I hope we can do better than them.”

“I may have an idea,” he says. Mary nods and makes for the driver’s side of her own car.

“Good. Seat belts on. I drive fast,” she tells the two of you as you load into the car as well.

The British Men of Letters. That was Cas’s idea. Mary almost immediately pulls out, supposing “the demon and his mommy” don’t sound so bad anymore. You hang back, watching the situation unfold. The two Brits, Mick and Ketch from what you gather, offer their services seemingly free of charge. They make a few phone calls, getting access to a satellite of the area Dean had mentioned. Mary and Cas are able to deduce the direction they’re headed and a good spot to meet them.

The two cars move to the new location and you all unload once again. You look up at the night sky and think about the last night you’d spend with Dean. He’d picked you up from the diner at closing time and drove you out of town to a remote location. You’d both laid on the hood of the car, splitting the last of the pie of the day.

“Y/N,” Mary says, pulling you from your thoughts. You turn to face her and immediately launch into pleading again.

“Mary, please. I don’t want to wait here while you two go on…”

“Stop,” she says, holding her hand up. “That’s not what I was going to say. Dean’s already gonna be pissed we brought you. He’d kill us both if we left you with those two. Just stay close to us and if something goes wrong, run back here.” You manage a relieved smile and follow her and Cas further up into the woods.

The three of you come into a small clearing and it isn’t long before there’s a rustling in the brush. Cas and Mary both move into a defensive stance in front of you. You wring your hands as you wait. Cas takes a few steps closer to the noise just as Dean and Sam fall through the bushes. Your heart jumps into your throat at the sight of Dean and you almost break down crying right then.

“Sam, Dean,” Cas says, relieved. You can see the tension immediately leave Mary’s shoulders as she takes in the sight of her boys. Sam rises first and pulls Cas into a tight hug. His eyes land on Mary and he smiles.

“Mom,” he says, letting Cas go. He starts to make his way across the clearing towards her when you register the confusion on his face. Dean finally stands and hugs Cas as well. Sam pulls Mary into a tight embrace that she immediately returns. “Who’s this?” He asks.

“Y/N??” Dean’s voice rings across the clearing. You smile, swallowing back tears, and wave slightly. “The hell is she doing here??” His voice is thick with anger as he makes his way over to Mary. The venom in his words takes you by surprise. Mary raises her hands slightly.

“She was worried about you. Called your phone. I answered and she wanted to help,” she explains. You and Dean stand there, staring at each other. Dean’s eyes are full of a rage you can’t even begin to comprehend.

“How much do you know?” He asks.

“A lot more than I did a week ago,” you tell him. He shakes his head and looks to the sky before looking at his mother.

“Hey, Mom,” he mumbles, pulling her into a hug. She lets out a gasp of surprise and returns the embrace. Dean’s eyes never leave your face. “Let’s get out of here,” he says before walking straight past you.

You take a shaky breath and run your hands over your face. You had anticipated he’d be angry, of course. But you had hoped the joy of being together again would cancel that anger out at some point. Mary pats your shoulder before she starts to follow Dean. You debate on staying right there in the woods for a moment before falling in step behind them. Sam clears his throat slightly as you all walk.

“Mom, how did yall even find us?” He asks, attempting to break the tension.

“They helped,” she says, pointing to Mick and Ketch as they come into view.

“Dammit!! They know about her now too??” He groans, running a hand through his hair. “Y/N, get in the car.” You stare at him in disbelief for a moment. “Car. Now,” he demands. You wipe at your eyes furiously as you storm back to Mary’s car. Sliding into the middle of the back seat, you realize for the first time that the Dean you knew and this Dean, the real Dean, may not be the same person.

The five of them talk for only a moment before coming to the car. Cas takes the passenger seat quickly and Dean doesn’t hide the dirty look he gives him. You shake your head, unable to believe that having to sit by you in the car was that unsettling. Had you misinterpreted your entire relationship? Sam gets in on your other side and smiles at you, awkwardly.

“Y/N, wasn’t it?” He asks. You look at him and smile bitterly.

“Yes. It’s nice to finally meet you Sam. I’ve heard so much about you. And don’t worry. I know the feeling can’t be mutual. You’ve never heard of me before, have you?” You ask, letting your anger burst out for a moment. Dean’s hand tightens into a fist on his leg as he stares out the window. Sam’s awkward smile becomes apologetic before Mary changes the subject, filling them in on everything they’d missed.

Mary continues to drive on into the night. You catch Sam and Dean both nervously glancing at the clock at the front of the car. They seem to only be getting more anxious as the minutes tick by.

“So wait, you're hunting?” Dean asks his mother. She glances back at him in the mirror and shrugs.

“A little bit,” she says. Sam smiles and shakes his head.

“Yea, I knew you couldn’t stay away,” he teases.

The exact second the clock switches over to 12:00, midnight, the car dies. Mary eases it onto a bridge as she tries the key again.

“It’s time,” Sam says, getting out of the car. You look at him then over at Dean.

“Stay in the car,” Dean tells you. Rolling your eyes, you slide out right behind him, tired of being ordered around tonight. The others all get out as well and look around, taking in their surroundings.

“What’s happening?” Mary asks.

“Yea, Dean. Sup?” A new voice says. You all look over to find a woman standing in the middle of the bridge. You look around, trying to figure out where she could have possibly come from. Dean takes an immediate step in front of you, shielding your entire body. Instinctively, you step closer to him, your hand coming to rest on his back, assuring him you were there and okay.

“Billie?” Mary asks, recognition and confusion mixed on her face.

“The reaper?” Cas asks. You close your eyes, trying to think back over your studies. It wasn’t one of things you’d become familiar with but gauging everyone’s reactions, this wasn’t a good thing.

“I don’t understand,” Mary says, shaking her head. Dean sighs and hangs his head.

“Mom, that place…there was only one way we were getting out of there, and that wasn’t breathing,” he starts to explain. You glance around at everyone and notice the horrified look on Cas’s face. “So I made a call.”

“Dean talked to her and then Billie came to talk to me,” Sam continues the story. “And we made a deal. We’d get to die and come back one more time, but in exchange…”

“Come midnight, a Winchester goes bye-bye. Like, permanently,” Billie says, smiling. “And that is something  I’ve been looking forward to for a long time.”

“No,” you whisper from behind Dean.

“Why would you ��,” Mary starts.

“We were already dead,” Dean tells her. “Being locked in that cell with nothing…I’ve been to Hell. This was worse.”

“At least this way, one of us gets to keep fighting,” Sam finishes. You shake your head, taking a step away from Dean.

“No,” you say again. He looks over his shoulder at you and his anger has completely dissolved. “Dean, no.”

“Hi, Y/N,” Billie says, waving. You look at her in utter shock but Dean steps between the two of you again.

“Leave her out of this,” he growls.

“You don’t have to do this,” Cas says, shaking his head.

“Yea, they do,” Billie says. “We made a pact bound in blood, You break that, there’s consequences on a cosmic scale. So, who’s it gonna be?” She asks, looking between the brothers. Sam looks at Dean, then at you, and back to Dean who shakes his head.

“Me,” Mary says before either of them can answer. She turns to face Billie, pulling her handgun from her waistband. Sam and Dean both immediately object, stepping forward to stop her. Billie flings both of them away with a wave of her hand. You rush to Dean’s side and fall next to him, immediately checking him for injuries. He shakes his head and fights to rise to his feet again.

“You said come midnight, a Winchester dies?” Mary asks. “I’m a Winchester.”

“Works for me,” Billie says with a smile. Mary cocks the gun and raises it toward her head. Sam and Dean both object loudly again, fighting to get to her.

“I love you,” Mary sniffs. Just as she’s about to pull the trigger, a sharp pointed blade pierces through Billie’s chest from behind and she immediately falls dead. You stare in shock at the dead body lying before you. Cas stands over her, the blade in his hand dripping blood. Mary lowers her gun as Dean and Sam are finally able to get to their feet. Dean takes your hand, pulling you up as well. You begin to pale as you stare at the body.

“Cas, what have you done?” Dean asks, looking at his best friend in shock.

“What had to be done,” he says. “You know this world – this sad, doomed little world – it needs you…” Your ears begin to ring and you take a shaky step closer to Dean. His arm comes around your waist, eyes never leaving Cas as he continues to talk. Something about keeping all the Winchesters alive.

“Dean,” Mary says, pointing to you. “First dead body.” Dean looks down at you just as you go completely limp in his arms.

**

Dean runs his hands over his face before taking a long swig off his beer. A lot had happened in the last day; dying, coming back again, running, fighting for their lives, getting back to their family, you, Billie, you, Cas killing a reaper…you. That was really the only thing on his mind…you. He had so carefully built a relationship with you. A relationship based on half truths and secrets but a relationship nevertheless. Now, you knew the whole nasty truth. It was going to be Lisa all over again…

“Dean?” Mary asks, sticking her head into the kitchen. He glances over his shoulder and smiles a little. “Can I join you?” Nodding, he points to the empty seat across from him. She walks over, taking the seat quietly. He stares at the bottle in his hands. “Dean…”

“You shouldn’t have told her,” he tells her firmly. “It wasn’t your place. I didn’t want her to know. She was safer not knowing. Now…I’ll never see her again.”

“What? Why?” Mary asks, confused. Dean stands and throws his empty bottle into the trash.

“To keep her safe!!” He snaps, spinning on her angrily. “People around me don’t hang around too long. They either run or they die. It’s as simple as that. Especially the ones who mean the most to me. And she means…” He stops abruptly, emotion closing up his throat. Mary frowns as she stands and walks over to him.

“It only seems that way, Dean. Y/N, she’s…she’s strong. She took everything I told her in stride and she stayed. She stayed here with Cas and she’s been learning how to do the job,” she tells him.

“That’s even worse!! I don’t want her anywhere near this,” he says, fighting back tears. “If it was just normal hunter stuff then maybe but the stuff we deal with…Lucifer and Amara and God…I want her as far away from all of this as possible.”

“Don’t you think she should get a say in this?” Mary asks. He shakes his head, stubbornly.

“No. Soon as she wakes up, I’m taking her back home. I’ll never go back to that diner.. She’ll never see or hear from me again,” he says.

“What?” You whisper to yourself, standing just outside the kitchen door. You turn on your heels and rush down the hall towards the garage. Your car was there and you’d spent enough time at the bunker to know how to get out. You hadn’t heard much but you heard enough. Dean didn’t want to see you anymore, plain and simple.

***

Three months, five days.

That’s how long it had been since you last saw Dean. You’d left the bunker, rejected and heartbroken, and Dean had kept his word. He hadn’t called. He hadn’t come in for any pie. Life was back to normal. Boring, regular, normal. You found yourself reading into everything you saw on the news, wondering if it was a case Dean could be working at that very moment. 

You’d volunteered to close down the diner for yet another night. Floors were mopped. Counters and tables wiped down. All you had left to do was lock up. Flipping off the lights, you step outside into the cool night air. You turn to lock the door when you hear footsteps coming up behind you. Damn it. You’d been so lost in thoughts about what you had believed was a werewolf in Michigan you hadn’t checked the parking lot first.

“Hello, love,” a heavy British accent says. There’s nothing familiar and certainly nothing friendly about the greeting. You stand frozen for a moment, weighing your options. You didn’t have many.

“We’re closed,” you say, not turning to face him yet.

“Not here for the pie,” he jokes. He’s closer than he had been.

“Look. My manager has already taken the deposit to the bank. I’ve got a few bucks in my purse and that’s it. I haven’t seen your face yet. You can turn around and leave, no consequences,” you tell him.

“Afraid not. Got a job to do. A message for your little hunter boyfriend,” he says. You let out a short laugh.

“You’re definitely barking up the wrong tree,” you say. His reflection is in the glass of the door now, standing right behind you. You take a deep breath and turn to face him finally. “Dean Winchester doesn’t care about me. Hurting me, won’t hurt him in any way.”

“We’ll see about that,” he says, brandishing a knife. You bring your knee up, hitting him in the groin. He grunts and doubles over, giving you enough time to run towards your car. Unfortunately, the blow doesn’t slow him down enough. Before you can make it to the car, he’s grabbed you by your waist, knife at your throat. “Any last words I can pass on to the Winchesters?” He breathes in your ear.

“Go to hell,” you spit at him. You feel the knife press harder against your skin as angry tears slide down your cheeks. What a way to go. Dying for a man who couldn’t care less.

Before the Brit can finish you off, a car whips into the dark parking lot, lights shining bright on the two of you. It takes your attacker by surprise and you feel his grip relax just enough. A sharp elbow to his abdomen has him letting you go. You fall to your knees as you attempt to run away. The car skids to a stop and you hear the voice you’d only dreamt of hearing again.

“Y/N!!” Dean yells as he runs at your attacker. He tackles him, knocking the knife from his hand as the two men hit the ground. Mary runs to your side as Sam runs to help Dean. You weren’t sure why. Dean had the upper hand, sitting atop the man, punching him in the face. Repeatedly. That’s when you realize, Sam wasn’t helping Dean. He was pulling him off.

“Dean, it’s over,” he tells his brother. “He’s dead.” Mary helps you to your feet, examining you as Dean makes his way over, wiping his bloodied hand off on his shirt.

“Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” Dean asks, taking your face in his hands. He looks you over and frowns at the knick on your neck. Running his thumb over it gently, he wipes the blood away. 

“I’m fine,” you mutter, taken aback by his gentleness and concern. Before you can say anything else, he pulls you into a crushing hug. You gasp and freeze before slowly returning the embrace. Mary touches Sam’s shoulder and nods back towards the dead body. They slip away to deal with that and give you two some privacy. “Dean…”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N. I put you in so much danger,” he says, letting you go. “I didn’t know we were being watched. I didn’t know.”

“Dean, what’s going on?” You ask.

“The British Men of Letters. Turns out it was a join or die type of situation. They’ve been watching all of us for a while now. They knew about you before you ever knew anything,” he explains. “They had brainwashed Mom but we just got her back. Sam and Jody led a raid of the Brits’ headquarters. Saw the pictures of you, of us here. We got here as quick as we could.” He winces now and you finally register how badly beaten he looks.

“What happened to you?” You ask, knowing your attacker hadn’t even gotten one good swing in. He limps over to his car and leans back against the hood.

“Grenade launcher,” he says, pointing to his leg. “Bad fight with Ketch.” He points to the rest of himself.

“Gre...huh??”

“They locked us in the bunker. Shut off the air supply. It was our only way out. And it was freaking awesome,” he says, smirking now. You roll your eyes at him and try not to smile, fighting back that familiar feeling he always gave you.

“Well, thank you. I’ll be more careful. Try not to close up by myself anymore,” you tell him, crossing your arms. He nods slightly, watching you.

“Or you could come with me,” he says. You scoff a laugh and shake your head.

“You don’t have to babysit me, Dean. I’ll be fine,” you say.

“What?” He asks. You shrug, trying to give him a confident smile.

“I’m officially relieving you of the burden of my safety. Whatever happens to me, happens. Don’t let it get to your conscious,” you tell him, looking around for your purse.

“Y/N,” Dean says. He watches you walk over and pick up the discarded item. You throw it over your shoulder and look back at him. “Come here,” he says gently, holding a hand out.

“You don’t want me. I know that. Please stop this,” you say, looking down at the gravel under your feet. You hear him sigh and look up as he starts to limp towards you. “No. Stop. You’re hurt.” He rolls his eyes now before taking your face in his hands for the second time tonight. This time his eyes aren’t searching for injuries. They’re searching for answers.

“Why would you think I don’t want you?” He asks, his voice softer than you’d ever heard it before. You get lost in the green of his eyes for a moment before the memory of that night comes back.

“I heard you with Mary. You said I wouldn’t see or hear from you again. And I haven’t since I left the bunker that day,” you tell him, hating to relive those harsh words. He nods, his hands leaving your face. They don’t go far though, immediately coming to rest on your hips.

“Is that all you heard?” He asks. You nod, wishing he’d just let you go home instead of dragging this out. “I didn’t leave you alone because I didn’t want you. I left you alone because I needed to keep you safe, because I want you too much, because I care about you too much.” Your eyes fill with tears as you stare up at him. You had to have died and gone to heaven for him to be saying these things, the things you wanted him to say so desperately.

“You were so mad when you saw me…”

“Because I didn’t want you anywhere near this life. Hunting, especially the things we end up hunting, it’s dangerous,” he pauses and closes his eyes. “I had just made a deal with a reaper to die. Again. I’d already resolved myself to the fact I wasn’t going to get to say a proper goodbye to you, tell you how I felt, how happy you’ve made me over the past year…and then you were there, right smack in the middle of everything. I was furious, yea, but not at you. I was mad at myself. I never shoulda came back here to begin with.”

“I don’t understand,” you say, shaking your head. Nothing was making sense. Nothing but the feel of his hands on your waist. That was good. That was right.

“I fell for you so hard that first night I came in for dinner. I was just supposed to come in, pick up something for me and Sam, and head back to the bunker. But when I walked in and saw you…I had to know you,” he recalls. “I thought a couple of visits couldn’t hurt. I could just be a customer, see you, talk to you. Maybe you’d eventually learn my name. That third time I came in and saw you getting ready to leave I was devastated. So I asked you to join me, thinking there wasn’t a chance in hell. You’d just gotten off work. Surely you wanted to get out of there and get home. But you stayed and you sat with me and…I knew I was in trouble.” You’re crying now. You don’t know exactly when the tears started but they were falling quickly. Dean brings one hand up and wipes at each of your cheeks gently. “And then you gave me your number…man, I almost called you from the booth,” he laughs. You do as well, reaching up and taking his hand. You press a kiss into his palm.

“I never knew what we were. I was so confused,” you tell him.

“I’m sorry. I kept going back and forth. I told myself it was too dangerous, you were safer as my friend. But then I’d get you alone, in my car and…” His hand tightens slightly on your hip and he pulls you impossibly closer. “I wanted you so desperately.” His voice dropped lower and his eyes bore into your own.

“I wanted you too,” you just manage to whisper. His forehead is touching yours now. Your eyes flutter close as his breath washes over your face.

“No more secrets,” he says before finally bringing his lips in to meet yours. This isn’t a gentle, chaste first kiss. Your lips move desperately against his as your arms wrap around his neck. It was everything you’d imagined and nothing like you could have dreamed all at the same time. His lips were chapped but gentle. He tasted of mint and whiskey. The way his hands moved over your back, one sliding just beneath your shirt to caress the skin at the small of your back, was intoxicating. You force yourself to pull away, remembering that his family was in the near vicinity.

“I have one secret,” you admit. He looks down at you expectantly. “I freaking hate this job.” He laughs and shakes his head, kissing you once more quickly.

“Sweetheart, I got bad news. That ain’t a secret,” he teases. You laugh too as Dean looks over your shoulder at the diner. “This place is gonna go under without your pie. It’s the only reason anyone comes back.”

“Including you?” You ask. His smile turns into a smirk as he looks back down at you.

“Why do you think I’m keeping you at the bunker?” He asks. Laughing again, you try to step out of his arms but they only tighten around you. His face is suddenly serious again as he watches you. “But only if you’re absolutely sure. I can’t stress enough how dangerous this life is.” You smile as you take his face in your hands.

“Dean,” you start. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

With that, Dean kisses you once again.

You leave your diner key in the door and a note taped to the glass.

I quit. -Y/N

****

Tags: @roseblue373

[rizlowwritessortof]

FBI and Cherry Pie

@jacklesversebingo fic #5!!!

This fic is based on Dean's hook-up with the diner waitress in 12x18 The Memory Remains, told from her POV. Hope you enjoy! The prompt for this one is 'I'm gonna need more bandages,' and it's in bold in the fic. (And I wrestled with getting it worked in here for a while! 😂)

Have I ever told you about the time the FBI came into my diner? No? I never told you about hooking up with the sexiest man I’ve ever met? Well, grab some coffee and have a seat, and I’ll tell you all about it.

Pairing: Dean x the nameless waitress from 12x18

Word Count: 3791

Warnings: Fluffy smut

Dividers: Cherry dividers by @kodaswrld

Have I ever told you about the time the FBI came into my diner? No? I never told you about hooking up with the sexiest man I’ve ever met? Well, grab some coffee and have a seat, and I’ll tell you all about it.

I will never forget when he walked into the diner, wearing a suit and tie, and that long overcoat. Perfect hair. Perfect smile. Tall and broad-shouldered and so gorgeous he made me forget what I was doing for a minute, the coffee cup I was filling overflowing and making a huge mess on the floor behind the counter.

I used the time it took to mop up the coffee to try and get myself together, and then I got back to work. We exchanged flirty smiles every time I passed by, and he gave me his undivided attention and a ‘Thank you, sweetheart’ when I’d stop to refill his cup, which I’m sure I did way more than was necessary. He had the most beautiful green eyes I’d ever seen, eyelashes I was frankly jealous of, and I was dying to trace the shape of his tempting lips with my fingertips.

I know there was an extra little swing in my walk – my body had a mind of its own in his presence. I felt like I was a love-struck teenager again, distracted and feverish and lusting after this total stranger. At one point I looked up from behind the counter and there he was, perching himself on one of the seats in front of me with his coffee in hand.

And then he did it. The whole ‘This coffee is hot’ routine, the cheesy pickup line I’d heard dozens of times before. It had never worked – not until then. He asked my name with a boyish grin on his face, and I gave it to him – and if we’d been alone, I probably would have included my panties.

The diner was busy, so I slipped him my phone number and address, told him what time I got off, and then he and his partner took off. I think I walked about a foot off the floor for the rest of my shift, floating through my day with nothing on my mind but what would be happening that night.

I was all showered and fresh and jittery from anticipation when he knocked on my door that night. He flashed me that devastating grin when I opened the door, and I stepped aside to let him in. I offered to take his coat, suddenly nervous and unsure of what to say.

He waited for me to hang his coat in the closet, and I turned to face him, still completely at a loss. I mean, not like I was inexperienced or anything – I’ve been known to spend a night with an available guy here and there – a girl does have needs, after all. But something about Dean – I don’t know, it just seemed like this night was going to be – more.

Thus my nerves. I gave him a shaky smile and blurted out, “So, do you want a drink?”

He smiled, his tongue darting out over those delicious-looking lips as he stepped closer. He reached to touch my face, his thumb gently tracing over my cheekbone. “How about we save that for later?” he replied in a husky whisper, his other hand moving up my bare arm as those lips brushed over mine, seeking, then settling in with a low hum to steal any remaining thoughts from my spinning mind.

I’m quite sure there are women out there who have survived kissing Dean. I’m not sure any of them have come out the other side of the experience the same as they were before. I know I wasn’t. I have never, not before or since, been kissed like that. He was an artist.

Once he had kissed me senseless, he pulled back for a second, looking down at me with those mesmerizing green eyes as he spoke in a voice that sent vibrations right through me. “Where do you want me, beautiful?” Talk about a loaded question – but I just gestured lamely towards the bedroom and let him steer me that direction.

He kissed me all the way there, even though we bumped into walls and he smacked his elbow hard on the doorway on the way into the room, but he laughed, and I laughed, and I was suddenly completely at ease. I had never met someone so sexually attractive and at the same time so boyishly appealing. I was still giggling a little as I shoved his suit jacket from his shoulders, and he shrugged it off, letting it hit the floor and kicking it away. He let me work the buttons open on his shirt before his smile faded, his eyes roaming over me as his hands came to rest on my waist and then moved upward to pull my shirt up slowly. I lifted my arms, letting him finish removing my t-shirt, and I watched as he tongued his plush lower lip in between his teeth, his eyes devouring me in my sexiest lacy bra.

“You like?” I asked coyly, looking up at him from under my lashes, and he let out a little growl as he yanked me close and kissed me hungrily. Every inch of my exposed skin that came in contact with his was buzzing with electricity, and I wanted more. He nipped at my bottom lip and I sucked at the tip of his tongue, my hands slipping beneath his open shirt to roam over his back, the swell and dip of muscle there making me feverish with want.

He backed me up until my knees hit the mattress, and he stopped for one moment to raise an eyebrow at me as he reached for the drawer in the bedside table. I nodded, knowing what he was after, and he pulled out the foil packet he was searching for, dropping it near the lamp before he advanced again with a predatory smile, making me scoot back onto the bed with a matching grin.

He unfastened my jeans and pulled them down, standing up again to pull them over my bare feet before he finished removing his shirt. Then he crawled up over me again, letting his eyes roam over me, a finger tracing the lace at the top of my matching panties. “Did you put this on just for me?” he asked, and I nodded, my lip caught in my teeth. “Let me show you just how much I appreciate it,” he said, bending to place slow, lingering kisses all the way down my torso. He stopped, staring down at the birthmark I have just at the inside of my hip bone, tracing the shape with his fingertip. “So does this mark the spot where you like to be kissed?” he teased. “Are there more of these? Like, um – a sexy map?” he asked with a wink and a wiggle of his eyebrows.

I laughed at his antics, shaking my head. “No more, sorry.”

His smile slowly faded, his gaze smoldering as he stared into my eyes, his fingers slipping beneath the edge of my panties to pull them down. “Don’t worry, I can find my way.”

I could barely breathe as he quickly disposed of my panties and kissed his way up my calves, first one side, then the other. Then the nibbling on my inner thighs began, and I started to be concerned about my sanity.

Dean’s mouth should be registered as a lethal weapon. I’ve had men go down on me before, yes, but – let’s be honest – most of the time they do it because they think they’re expected to in order to get what they really want, not because they enjoy it. Believe me when I say that Dean enjoys it. He enjoyed it until I was a delirious, blissful mess, and by the time I could focus again he was standing at the foot of the bed unzipping his pants. He gave me a slow, lazy smile as I opened my eyes. “There she is,” he said, turning around to sit on the bed and remove his shoes and the rest of his clothes. I couldn’t take my eyes off the play of muscle beneath the smooth, taut skin of his back, the breadth of his shoulders, the spattering of light freckles over both making me long to play connect-the-dots with my tongue.

Then he stood back up and turned, and I forced myself to close my mouth before I drooled down my chin. God, he was just perfect all over. “Somebody in this room is still not completely naked,” he teased, giving that glorious cock in his hand a gentle stroke. He didn’t have to say it twice.

I sat up, reaching behind me to unclasp my bra and tossing it somewhere – I faintly heard something crash as it knocked something to the floor, but I didn’t care. I was too busy crawling down the mattress with my eyes on the prize. He hissed in a breath when I tongued at the tip of his cock, moving his hand out of the way and letting me take over. He let out a quiet ‘fuck’ when I sucked him into my mouth, his fingers tangling in my hair, and I made it my mission in life to pull as many delicious noises from him as he had forced from me. When I reached down to gently squeeze his balls, his grip in my hair tightened, his voice strained as he spoke. “Fuck, sweetheart, stop.” I looked up at him as I backed away, afraid I’d gotten too carried away, but he gave me a crooked smile and continued. “I mean, unless you want to wait a while for me to fuck you…”

I shot him a naughty grin. “No, I do not want to wait,” I sassed, and he immediately began to chase me up the length of the bed, me scrambling backwards as he crawled after me, and we were both laughing when he caught me – for a minute, anyway. Then he looked down, let out a little groan, and dived in, sucking my nipple into his mouth. I made a noise, somewhere between a whine and a screech, and he settled in to tease me until both nipples were hard and tingling and I finally grabbed him by the hair. “Listen – somebody said something about fucking, and I’m still waiting,” I panted out, and he flashed that playful smirk again before he grabbed the condom off the nightstand and ripped it open.

He rolled it on and was hovering over me again in seconds, lining himself up and then kissing me again as he slowly, so slowly, pushed inside. I had to turn my head, unable to breathe, he just kept going deeper and deeper, and when I thought I couldn’t take in any more, he was finally buried completely inside me. He held still while my body molded around him, his lips nibbling at my throat and shoulders, speaking in that low, sexy voice in my ear and telling me how good I felt, that he loved how hot and tight I was, that I was taking him so well, and it was almost enough to send me over the edge again. “So fucking sexy, you know that? You ready for me, gorgeous?”

“So ready,” I managed to whisper, “fuck me, Dean.”

“Gladly, sweetheart.” He braced himself on his forearms and pulled back, a slow drag out, back in to the limit and then out again, but I was getting impatient by that time, and I locked my legs around him and pulled him in.

“Fuck. Me.” I said with my teeth clenched, and he flashed that naughty grin again before he got serious. I asked for it, and I got it. He slipped a hand underneath my lower back, angling me to the perfect position for him to hit my sweet spot with each driving thrust, and I completely lost control of the noises I was making, hoping fleetingly that my neighbors wouldn’t hear me and call 911. Honestly, I didn’t really care. If I ever get the chance to choose the way I die, I’ll choose this.

I came once, screaming his name, and he just kept going. I hung on, clawing at his shoulders and back, and I could feel him begin to throb when he came, growling and burying his face in my neck. I was exhausted, but another orgasm washed over me, leaving me shaking and weak, panting for air. His breath was hot on my neck, our hearts pounding in unison, and I know I drifted off to sleep for a while. I woke up with a whimper as he pulled himself free, and I laid there, sated and still as he got up and took care of the condom before collapsing down on the bed beside me with a heavy sigh.

The next morning, Dean rode with me back to the diner to meet his partner. We hadn’t slept much the night before, but I was feeling good. Really good. I had aches in several places, but they were delicious reminders of the night before, and I didn’t mind at all.

Dean walked me into the diner, taking my elbow to stop me just inside the door. “I’ll see you later,” he said softly right next to my ear, giving my arm a squeeze before he walked away to join his partner at a nearby table. He had a secretive smile on his face as he sat down, and me? I was smiling all the way to the kitchen. He had promised to come back after they finished up with work, and I was warm with anticipation at the thought of spending another night with him.

The day seemed to drag on forever, but finally the afternoon coffee drinkers cleared out and it was time to close. I went to the kitchen and got busy restocking and baking pies, since we were almost out. I was just pulling the second batch of pies from the oven when Dean texted me, letting me know he was at the front door.

I unlocked the door, letting him into the dark dining room and locking the door behind him before taking his hand to lead him to the kitchen. I was excited to see him, and a little nervous, babbling as we headed that way. “Smells great in here,” he said, and I turned to face him with a smile, but that smile melted away quickly when I saw his face. His ear and the hair behind it was covered in blood, the side of his face bruised and scraped raw, and I could feel the blood drain from my face.

“Oh my god, Dean – oh my god! What happened?” He tried to say he was fine, but I wasn’t listening. “You’re bleeding, you – you have a cut on your head, you could have a concussion! You probably need stitches!” I rushed over to the first aid cabinet on the wall, grabbing the portable kit and hurrying back to his side, opening the box as I continued rambling. “Oh my god, oh my god, we have to fix that cut – shit, I’m gonna need more bandages. Why doesn’t anybody ever restock this thing after they use it? We have to get you to the hospital!��

Dean grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently to stop my rant. “Sweetheart, I promise you, I’m fine. The cut isn’t bad, I don’t need stitches, I don’t have a concussion. I might look a little messy, but I’m okay.” I stared up at him, shaking, and he pulled me into his arms. “You gotta believe me, I’m fine.”

I wrapped my arms around him and tried to calm myself, then pushed away, flashing him a stern look. “Fine. But you’re gonna let me clean you up,” I said, jerking the chair out from under the counter and nodding in its direction.

“Yeah, okay,” he answered with a rueful smirk, sitting down without any argument.

He sat still for me while I carefully cleaned his face, and then moved on to clean the blood from his ear and his hair. He winced as I cleaned around the cut on his head, but didn’t make a sound. When I was done, I took the first aid kit back to the cabinet, letting out a relieved sigh, finally feeling somewhat calm again. He stood up, pushing the chair back into place as I came back to stand in front of him.

Dean glanced around the room. “Lots of pies,” he said.

“Yeah, we were almost out. I was baking while I waited for you.”

“Might have to buy one to take with me when I leave.” He cleared his throat. “So, I – uh…” He huffed out a breath, then continued. “I’m not gonna be able to stay tonight. We caught another case. My partner is at the motel getting our stuff together and then he’ll be back to pick me up.” My face must have reflected exactly how I felt at hearing the news, and he put a hand up to my face, regret in his eyes. “Sorry. We’ve got maybe half an hour.”

I bit my lip, fighting the disappointment, but I didn’t want to waste the little time we had. So I pushed it down, stood up on tiptoe, and kissed him. He crushed me to him with a groan and kissed me back hard, then backed me away, reaching for the ties on my wrap dress. He pulled it open, tugging my panties down to my thighs and then moving his hands to my waist to lift me and plop me on top of the counter. My fingers landed in the cherry pie next to me, and he laughed. “Oops. I’ll pay for that,” he said as I pulled my hand out, my fingertips covered with the red filling. He took hold of my wrist, lifting my hand to his lips and sucking my finger into his mouth, and everything inside me went molten at the sensation. He cleaned each finger, then reached over to scoop another dollop of cherry goo with his finger, bringing it to my lips. I stared into his eyes as I leaned in and sucked that fingertip into my mouth, sucking and swirling my tongue around it, smothering a smile as he let out a moan.

His phone pinged, and he pulled it from his pocket with an annoyed frown. He looked back up at me, laying the phone aside and glancing towards the pie again. “Damn it. I wish we had more time, sweetheart, because I just wanna lay you out, smear that pie all over you and clean it off with my tongue. But Sam’s on his way.”

I stared back at him for a beat, then bent over to push my panties down farther, letting them fall to my feet and kicking them to the floor. “Then I guess we’d better hurry,” I said, reaching for his zipper.

Dean reached into his pocket, pulling out a condom and ripping it open with his teeth as I yanked his pants and boxers down. He rolled it on, pulling me a little closer to the edge of the counter before grazing his fingers through my folds, slipping two of those long, thick digits inside of me for several quick strokes before he pulled them free and lined himself up. Both hands gripped my hips as he plunged inside me, looking into my eyes as I panted for air.

“This thing bolted down?” he asked, tapping the counter top. “Good,” he said at my nod, and he started a fast, hard rhythm that forced cries from me each time our bodies collided. It was delicious and intense, on the edge of desperate, and it felt amazing. I had my arms braced on the counter top, so he reached a hand down between us and rubbed at my clit, sending me over the edge. He came a few strokes later with a rasping growl, holding himself in deep until he finished and pulled me up close, those strong arms holding me tight against his chest.

I slipped my arms around him, running my hands over that tight ass and up under his shirt to smooth over his back, needing to feel his skin beneath my touch. “Wish you didn’t have to leave,” I said, “that whole pie thing sounds pretty amazing.”

He laughed softly, giving me a squeeze before backing up far enough to kiss me. “Yeah, it would be. Guess I’ll just have to dream about it. I’m thinking I’ll be having some really good dreams about you.”

“Mmmmm, yes – so will I.” I kissed him again, and we kind of got lost in it, his cock twitching back to life inside me – and then his phone pinged again, and he stopped kissing me with a reluctant sigh.

We both moaned a little when he pulled out, and he went to dispose of the condom before coming back to grab my panties from the floor and help me get them back over my feet. He helped me slip off the counter and stand to pull them up, and then closed my dress and tied it before cupping my face in his hands and kissing me gently. “Thank you. I’ve had more fun with you the last couple of days than I’ve had – well, in a long time.”

“So have I. If you ever get back this way again…”

“Count on it,” he said, taking a step back and fastening his jeans. “I guess – I’d better go.”

I turned to grab a pie from the counter, handing it to him as he looked at me in surprise. “Take it. It’s cherry. From now on when you eat cherry pie, think of me, okay?”

He smirked, nodding. “Count on that, too.”

I walked him to the door and let him out, one last clinging kiss for the road, and then I locked the door behind him and watched him leave.

So, that’s the story of my run-in with the FBI. Well, with the FBI agent. It was epic, that’s for sure. I can’t bake a cherry pie without thinking about him. I keep hoping one day he’ll walk back through that door, but it will probably never happen. Oh, well, you know what they say – it’s better to have fucked and lost than never to have fucked at all. Okay, so I paraphrased. It still works.

Tags for my lovelies: 

 @saenalife    @deanscarlett    @jensensgotyoudean    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog 

   @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid      @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel  

  @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess      @deanslittleangel2y5  

  @melanie451        @spectaculacular-sammy     @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean-blog   

        @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain  

  @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm          @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie 

   @tanithlowisabamf-blog    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic  

  @kreweofimp  @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67-blog    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma   

 @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirstblog     @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1   

 @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @torn-and-frayed  

  @sandlee44   @wingedcatninja  @evansrogerskitten   @emoryhemsworth  @peaceinourtime82 

 @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior  @sarcasmqueen74   @maliburenee     @mrsjenniferwinchester   @yeehawbitchs  

 @emily-winchester  @hobby27    spnbaby-67   @zepskies  @ladysparkles78  

@alwaystiredandconfused   @just-another-busyfangirl    @muhahaha303    @deansimpalababy    @kr804573  

@suckitands33    @ej13928    @lmhf1

[imbadatwrighting]

Dean trying to give reader hookup tips: This is the kind of girl you should date. This is Winchester standard. Don’t be shy, just talk to her.

Innocent!reader working up the nerve to talk to her: I love you.

Sam: Okay. No, just, uh…

[samslvrgirl]

Waitress - pt 1. Bad Baby Pie

Pairing: doctor!Sam x Reader

Summary: Y/N, a struggling waitress trapped in an abusive marriage, finds out she is suddenly pregnant. While in her appointment to make sure she is, she meets Dr. Sam Winchester, her new doctor since her old one is on vacation.

Characters(in this chapter): Reader, Lisa Braeden, Jo Harvelle, Dean Winchester, Gordon Walker, and Bobby Singer(mentioned) No Sam in this chapter. (in the next one)

Word Count: 2,028

Warnings: Language, emotional abuse, pregnancy, (Let me know if I missed any)

A/N: This is my first story so please be advised that it's not the greatest.

An oven opens, a pair of hands remove a baked pie to cool, only to add another to bake as well.

Making pies has always relaxed Y/N, putting her in a zen-like state. All her troubles float away and it’s just her and her pies.

“Honey, You’ve put it off long enough.”

Looking up, Y/N sees her two co-workers and friends, Jo and Lisa.

“What?” she replies.

“You know what.” They both said at the same time.

----

“Negative. Negative. Come on, negative… Come on!” Lisa rambles on.

All three women are huddled in the small employee bathroom, waiting on Y/N’s pregnancy test.

“Dear Lord above, please protect our Y/N from the hell of unwanted pregnancy.” Jo says while pacing back and forth, her hands in prayer.

“I don’t need no baby. I don’t want no trouble. I just wanna make pies. That’s all I wanna do. Make pies.” Y/N anxiously says.

“I thought you don’t even sleep with your husband anymore? Lisa questioned.

“He got her drunk one night.” Jo quickly says.

“Got me drunk. I should never drink. I do stupid things when I drink, like sleep with my husband!”

She gasps.

“Oh no…It looks like a pink line is forming…shit..!”

“One line or two lines. One line or two lines!?” Lisa frantically says.

“Two lines! The control line and the other line. The bad line, the yes line!” Y/N starts to freak out. Not wanting what she thinks is happening.

Lisa rushes up to Y/N, swiping the test out of her hand.

“Let me see that now…Two lines. Two definite lines. No mistaking them.”

The women all look at each other. A bit horrified. Then, there’s a knock on the bathroom door.

“What’s going on in there? We have customers! Where are my waitresses?” Dean, the manager, yells out behind the door.

“Hold your balls straight Dean! Y/N ain’t feeling well” Lisa answers back.

“What’s wrong with her?”

“None of your business, ya blowhard!”

“Nothing, Dean! I’m fine. We’ll be right out.” Y/N quickly ending the confrontation.

“Hurry UP!” Dean yells back.

They wait a minute, for Dean to walk away. Lisa and Jo both look at Y/N. Her eyes are closed, deep in thought. “Honey, you okay?” Jo asks Y/N.

“Shh…I’m inventing a new pie in my head. Tomorrow’s blue plate special.” She softly says.

A quiche is being made. Scrambled eggs, ham and cheese are quickly poured, then blended into a crust.

“I’m calling it,’I Don’t Want Gordon‘s Baby Pie’.”

“I don’t think we can put that on the menu board, hon.” Jo says.

“Then I’ll just call it,’Bad Baby Pie’.”

“What’s in it, honey” Lisa asks. “It’s a quiche of egg and brie cheese with a smoked ham center.”

“Sounds good, baby.”

Y/N opens her eyes. She stares off into the distance, spacing out.

“I ain’t never gonna get away from Gordon now.”

Finishing the rest of their shifts, Y/N, Jo, and Lisa sit outside on a bench in front of their workplace, Bobby’s Pie Diner. Y/N is carefully wrapping a slice of pie in tin foil while Lisa smokes a cigarette, offering to pass it to Y/N for her to drag.

“Want it?” Lisa asks.

“No, are you crazy? Can’t have no cigarette. I’m having a stupid damn baby. So, if I’m smoking, she’s smoking.”

“She?” Lisa asks. “How do you know it’s a girl?”

“Boy. girl, whatever. Anyway, Gordon don’t let me smoke. He’s coming any second to pick me up.”

Y/N was miserable in her marriage. She thought she was stupid to marry young, thinking Gordon and her were young in love, but that wasn’t the case. He ended up controlling everything. From her own finances, to not owning anything at all. Everything was his, not hers.

“You gonna tell him?” Jo quietly asks. Knowing Gordon, it’s a death trap for her and her child.

“Not sure. If my plan comes true and I can make my big escape from him in a couple months, maybe he never has to know.” Y/N said.

“Are you sure it’s his child?” Lisa suddenly asks. Y/N looks at her shocked, her mouth in awe.

“You know everything I do. I ain’t never cheated. I’d never do that.” She answers back defensibly. “No, you’d just run away from him without any warning, abandoning him forever.” Jo says.

“That’s different from cheating. That’s escaping to Lebanon where that big pie bake-off is held, then winning the prize money, and starting a fresh new life for myself.” Starting a new life is just what she needed. Her original plan that is, but now she is having a baby. A baby she was stuck with.

“I feel sorry for you, Y/N. I mean, I’d do anything to meet a man, and Lisa’s husband is a downright senile fruit cake…” Jo starts off. “JO!?” Lisa yells out, cutting Jo off mid-sentence. “Well, I’m sorry, it’s true. But now, here you are, married to this handsome guy…”

“Who’s got a very good smile…” Lisa jumps in.

“Who’s got a very good smile…” Jo agrees. “And pregnant with a little girl.” “We don’t know if it’s a girl.” Y/N butts in. “But neither one of us would trade places with you for one second. Would we, Lisa?”

“No, we wouldn’t Jo. No we wouldn’t. Except just once in my life, I’d like to make a pie half as good as Y/N can make a pie” “Yeah, me too.” Jo mutters wistfully.

“Oh come on. So what if I can make a decent pie. Who cares?” Y/N doubtfully says. Pies did in fact bring a great deal of comfort and a piece of mind in her times of need, but she didn’t see how it has affected others around her. They’re just pies.

“Your pies are magic.” Jo perks up. “You don’t have no self-esteem.”

“Look at this, Y/N.” Lisa started. She pulls her jacket slightly open, “As you can plainly see, my right boob is much higher than my left boob.” Lisa closes her jacket, now pointing her hand out to Jo. “Jo here has pasty,pasty skin. I’m stuck in a marriage to Drooling Phil, the invalid, and Jo eats TV dinners alone, but we still wouldn’t rather be you, Y/N.”

“I do have pasty, pasty skin…” Jo says, ashamed. Just then, they hear honking. Gordon, pulling his black Buick up. He’s honking non-stop. “Yeah, I know you’re here…” Y/N says under her breath. “See you tomorrow, honey.” Jo says as Y/N stands up from her seat. “Good luck. If you do tell him you’re having a-” Lisa begins as Y/N gathers her belongings. Y/N shushes her, not wanting her husband to overhear. Gordon, who is alongside them in his car, rolls down the window. “Hey!” He shouts out over his loud music. “Hi.” She replies quietly while walking around to the passenger’s side. “Hiya Gord! We all just agreed that your smile is super attractive. Hooray for you!” Lisa jokingly says. Both Jo and her woo-hooed at the same time, but Gordon doesn’t respond and speeds off as soon as Y/N settles in the car.

“I don’t care if she is a pie genius, I wouldn’t trade places with her.” Jo says to Lisa as they watch the car drive away. “No, me neither.” Lisa agrees.

Gordon, driving, glances at Y/N for a second, who's sitting with her hands folded in her lap. "You don't look happy to see me." He bluntly says. "Aren't you happy to see me?" "Yes, I'm happy to see you. I even brought you a piece of today's special, Kick in the Pants Pie. Cinnamon spice custard." She replies with a fake smile. Gordon has no response. "You didn't give me a kiss." Silence. "Give me one!" Y/N hurries to to lean over to kiss him on the cheek. "That's more like it." He smirks. "Where's the money you made today?" "Right here, in my pocket." "Well now, hand it over." She takes the money out of her pocket and hands it to him, while trying hiding her smile. The rest of her money is in her bra, hidden away. "Not much here, is there?" He questions.

"Slow day, you know." Gordon then puts the money in his own pocket. "You've been having more and more and more of those. I'm really not sure it's worth you working there anymore." He says. That's the last thing she needs right now, him trying to take away the once source to run away. To a better life. "I think I might rather have you be at home, making ME pies all day long. Me and me alone." He continues.

"I don't like those girls. Or your boss." "Yeah, I know.." There's a slight pause.

"You didn't ask me how my day was." He complains. Here we go again. The same routine. Over and over. Y/N was sick of it. "How was your day?" She asks, in a monotone voice, already tired. "Ask me like you care about it." Y/N sighs. She turns her head towards him, and in a fake caring and sweet voice, "How was your day, Gordon?" "...Well you know. Johnson was on my case again. About the mortgages and everything. But I can't control the policies of the bank, and I told him that. But he doesn't listen..."

As Gordon rants and complains, Y/N shuts her eyes, in deep concentration. ' I Hate My Husband Pie'. You take bittersweet chocolate and don't sweeten it. You make it into a pudding and drown it in caramel'

"You're not listening to me!" Gordon suddenly shouts, breaking her train of thought. "Yes I am." She flusteredly says. "What did I say?" "You were bitching about Mr.Johnson." “But what were my exact words?” “I can’t repeat them verbatim.” “You don’t listen to me! Hurts my feelings. Say you’re sorry so I can let you out of this car so you can start on my dinner.” Without missing a beat,“I’m sorry, Gordon, for not being able to to repeat your words verbatim. It’s something I should be able to do.” She really didn’t mean this. I mean, who the hell can? “Whenever I need it?” He asks. “Whenever you need it.” “Okay, then.” The car pulls up in the driveway, in front of a modest, depressing house. Small, without any charm.

Y/N and Gordon sit at their dinning table, eating a spaghetti pie that she had made for dinner. Y/N has barely touched the food on her plate.

“You look handsome tonight, Gordie.” Y/N suddenly says.

" Thank you honey. It’s been a long time since you called me Gordie, I like it.” He slightly chuckles, going back to eat his dinner. “And you look pretty tonight. Maybe a little tired is all. You’re not eating your spaghetti pie, Why not?”

Y/N was too nervous to eat, wanting to ask him about the bake-off she had mentioned to Jo and Lisa. In reality, asking for money was to hurry the process of leaving. “Because I’m…I’m thinking I want to borrow some money from you.”

“My answer to that, of course, is no.”

“There’s a big pie bake-off in Lebanon in a couple of months and I’d like to go.”

“And my answer to that, of course, is no.” He repeated.

“Prize money is pretty good.” She says, trying to convince him.

“Why do you need money? I give you everything you need, don’t I?” He questions.

“Absolutely.” “You want for nothing, don’t you?” She really wanted the money, but not for nothing.

“Yes Gordon, I want for nothing.” Not wanting to argue, she quietly stops talking. There’s no point. “You’re pies aren’t bad. But what’s so important about that when you got me to take care of?” Gordon says, putting her in her place, manipulated.

‘Good point, Gordon.”

Taglist: @isntthatsweetiguessso

Make sure to add me to your notifications so you won’t miss the next part!

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Dean: Hey, Cas. **Sits on bar stool next to Angel who has beer waiting for Dean** Thanks, man.

Cas: Hello, Dean. Of course, I know it is a preferred beer. ***the Angel smiles a small smile for Dean**

Dean takes a gulp and puts it down: That’s the stuff. **He sighs contentedly**

Cas drink some of his matching beer.

Dean looks over at the Angel into his piercing sunset blue eyes with a small smile upon his bow-tie lips.

Cas blushes slightly, noticeably to Dean, and looks into Dean’s own forest green eyes.

Sam walks and rolls his eyes, scoffing at the two. He finds a booth to sit in and yells at the two: Get a room.

Dean and Castiel so absorbed in each others eyes, don’t hear him.

Four hours later…

Dean motions for two more beers while keeping his eyes on Castiel, actually listening, as the Angel explains his latest adventures with bumblebees and how rough around the edges their personalities are.

Sam glowers at the two as he drinks a whiskey and having eaten dinner.

The cute waitress comes up to Sam’s table: You know, you should just get over him. He is so in love with that man. You got no chance but if you also play for the other field, I’d be happy to go for a walk. I get off in about forty minutes.

Sam looks at her, confused at her: That’s my brother and his boyfriend. **changes direction quickly** Got a car?

The Waitress looks at Dean and Cas then back to Sam, brow quirked. They blink and nod with a smirk.

Sam: I’ll see you in forty minutes then. **He doesn’t tell them that they angry because they all came in the impala and Sam is stuck here until the two are ready to go**

Forty minutes later…

Sam texts Dean and Castiel: Don’t wait up. 🖕

Dean pulls out his phone, brow furrowed and texts Sam: 🖕 Bitch.

Sam replies back a minute later: Jerk, get a fucking room. 😆

Dean’s furrow deepens.

Cas: What’s the matter, Dean?

Dean puts away his phone: Nothing. Sam say not to wait up.

Cas: Ahh. **understands Sam is having intercourse with a female that he just met at this bar**

Dean: why don’t we head back to the motel?

Cas smirks.

Dean pulls out money to pay the tab and tip the bartender at least twenty percent. He follows Cas back out to Baby.

The next day…

The waitress at the same bar is asked by the bartender how her hook-up was.

The waitress: Great lay. Lovely tongue. Won’t shut up about his brother and their best friend needing to finally fuck. I mean it started during us kissing back at my place and then I got him to finally shut up by having him entertain Mrs. Priscilla among other sexy acts. He is laying there and starts up again. Man, he ruined my glow. I didn’t know how to kick him out without being a bitch.

The bartender: You got stuck listening to him bitch.

The waitress: I think he just needed validation because once I agreed with him, we could finally sleep. He’s a great cuddler too. Just wish he wasn’t obsessed with his brother. Yeesh.

Meanwhile….

In the motel room, Castiel sits at the small table and chair staring at a well-preserved, wooden chess set.

Dean yawns and wakes up. He looks at Cas: Are you still stuck on that move, dude?

This is so Destiel coded

[em-ontv]

Need some space — d.w.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x lover!fem!reader

Summary: Dean could never keep his hands off of you, latching onto you whenever he could

Content: fluff, established relationship, clingy/touch-starved Dean, not proofread, English is not my first language, mistakes should be present, sorry!

Word count: 912

Dean was a lot of things—sharp-tongued, reckless at times, stupidly brave—but you hadn't expected "clingy boyfriend" to be added to the list.

Yet somehow, here you were, flipping through dusty books with his head in your lap, eyes half-closed like an oversized housecat. He shifted to a more comfortable position on the couch, clearly uninterested in the research you were trying to get through.

"Dean," you sighed, nudging the book away from where it almost brushed against his face. "How am I supposed to read with your giant head in the way?"

"Don't mind me, sweetheart." he mumbled, eyes closing and voice bordering a purr. "You're doing great. Keep it up."

You gave his forehead a flick, earning a dramatic groan. He swatted half-heartedly at your hand but refused to move an inch. Instead, he stretched his legs out further, making himself even more comfortable.

"Seriously? You're not even gonna pretend to help?" you glared at him. "You know, I'd really appreciate it if you started flipping through some books too."

"Helping," he said lazily, cracking one eye open and giving you a smirk. "Emotional support."

Without waiting any further, he reached up, took your hand, and pressed it to his head. Your fingers tangled in his hair instinctively, and he melted under your touch like butter on a hot pan.

When you stopped and started to pull your hand back so you could flip a page of the book, he let out a pathetic whine, pushing your hand back against his head, like he’d die before letting you go.

"You're such a baby. I have to get this done before Sam comes back." you muttered, squishing his face between your fingers, making him pout.

"Cut it out," he grumbled, frowning up at you, though the way his frown dissolved when you laughed said otherwise.

"If you're not gonna help, you're not gonna complain either." you said, and he retaliated by kissing your wrist, peppering soft, warm kisses all the way up your arm.

You rolled your eyes, biting back a smile. Dean's touchy-feely tendencies had only escalated since you started dating. Take the case last week, for example.

You'd been interviewing a witness at a diner, trying to keep your questions subtle and professional. Dean, however, had other ideas.

"So, you're saying the lights flickered just before you heard the noise?" you asked the frazzled waitress.

"Uh-huh," she nodded, glancing nervously between you and Dean.

Before you could respond, his hand found its way to the small of your back. Not a casual graze either—nope—it was a slow, deliberate caress, his fingers curling just enough to make his presence known. You froze, shooting him a warning glance, trying to shrug him off, but he was already leaning in closer, the picture of shamelessness.

"Sweetheart," he murmured, low enough that only you could hear. "You're doing amazing. Keep it up."

"Dean," you hissed through a forced smile. "Go sit down."

"What? I'm just keeping an eye on you," he replied, all wide-eyed innocence, grinning like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The poor waitress looked like she wanted to crawl into the freezer.

And then there was that time in the library when you'd been deep into research, scanning page after page. Dean had sauntered in, plopped down next to you, and proceeded to rest his chin on your shoulder while humming AC/DC under his breath.

"Keep reading, sweetheart. I’m comfy." he murmured when you tried to shoo him off, knowing he'd just distract you. His arm snaked around your waist, and before you could protest, he was already pressing slow, feather-light kisses along your jaw.

Or the night you snuck into the kitchen for some quiet time with a PB&J. Five minutes later, Dean appeared in the doorway, his hair sticking up in every direction. He looked half-asleep, his brows pinched in sleepy frustration.

"What are you doing?" you asked, mid-bite of a PB&J.

"Couldn't sleep," he said, padding over to you with a frown. "Why'd you leave?"

"Dean, I was gone for five minutes."

He made a noise of dissatisfaction, wrapping his arms around your waist from behind, nuzzling lazily into the crook of your neck. "Come back to bed with me." he muttered, his voice soft and heavy with sleep.

It was ridiculous. The same tough-as-nails hunter who'd taken on demons, monsters, and literal death couldn't go five minutes without missing you. But as much as you teased him for it, it brought a certain warmth to your heart.

Because for all his bravado, Dean was just a guy who'd spent most of his life terrified of losing the people he cared about, loved. His over-the-top clinginess? It was his way of making up for lost time.

"Alright, fine," you said, swallowing the last bite of your sandwich and dusting your hands off.

He grinned—smug at first, but it quickly melted into something far softer. He let out a content hum, nuzzling closer.

"Right now, please." he murmured, his voice heavy with drowsiness.

"Alright, just don't fall asleep on me in the middle of the kitchen." you said, rubbing his arm, leading him back to the comfort of your shared bed.

Under the covers, Dean curled up against you, his arms wrapped around your body, his face buried in your neck. His breath was gentle and even, warm against your skin. Just before sleep took him, he murmured faintly, "Love you, sweetheart."

[zepskies]

Headcanon: Flirting (And Jealousy)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader, Russell Shaw x Reader

AN: This one was requested by one of my lovely Patreon members, @lacilou. And surprise! For the first time, I'm trying out adding Russell Shaw to the lineup because I thought he'd be an interesting addition for this prompt. 💜

Prompt: How would Dean, Ben & Beau react to either other men flirting with us or them obliviously/cluelessly letting other women flirt with them? And how we would react to them -- like how they'd make it up to us, their excuses, etc.

HC: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, Soldier Boy (Ben), and Russell Shaw would react to someone flirting with you. (And others flirting with them.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, oblivious flirting, unwanted advances, jealousy, some toxic masculinity (you know Ben 🙄), but ultimately lots of fluff, and some spice too.~

Dean Winchester

Dean isn't one to get jealous...at first.

He knows you're hot as hell. He pretty much expects guys to try and shoot their shot.

Plus, he's secure enough in his relationship with you to know you wouldn't consciously entertain someone who's flirting with you.

He also knows you're strong enough to take care of yourself, even with a persistent asshole.

However.

The second a man gets into your face or tries to put his hands on you, Dean's stepping in -- either to twist the man's arm nearly out of its socket, or deliver a swift punch between the eyes, or his personal favorite, grabbing the back of the guy's neck and slamming his face onto the counter.

Dean finds the sound of bone breaking against varnished wood, followed closely by the heavy tripping thud of a body to the floor, deeply satisfying.

You heave a sigh. Not because you're all that annoyed at Dean, but because you tried to warn the guy.

Now, Dean knows he used to be...well, a "ladies man," putting it mildly. He's improvised more panty-dropping one-liners than a Magic Mike stripper. His success rate is 9-and-10 (because there's always room for improvement).

He directs all that flirtatious, playful, sexual energy on you. He's fallen for you, committed to you, and once he makes a decision with his heart, Dean Winchester doesn't have an unfaithful bone in his body.

However.

He can't altogether stop women from flirting with him. Like at one of the many diners you, Sam, and Dean stop to eat at after a hunt.

"Let me know if you need anything else, okay?" the waitress says. She brushes her hand up his arm and squeezes his shoulder, giving Dean a too-bright smile that leaves nothing to the imagination (at least to you).

He smiles back at her. "Thanks, sweetheart."

It's like a reflex. He thinks he's being polite. He doesn't even follow the path of her hip-swaying walk with his eyes -- like he certainly would've before he met you.

You still stare at Dean incredulously. When the woman walks away, he smiles at you as if nothing happened. Sam wisely keeps to himself and sips his beer, hiding a smirk.

Dean notices the way your lips are pursed, bitchface activated. "What?" he asks.

You cross your arms. "Really?"

He frowns. "What's the matter?"

"Really. You need me to tell you not to let that woman eye-fucking you to put her hands all over you?" You shake your head. More dryly you add, "Right in front of me, too. I gotta give it to her, she's got brass balls."

Dean is bewildered, but then he replays the moment in his head and realizes that you're right. He kinda fucked up.

He sees the way you're getting all testy, and he has to chuckle.

"Okay. I'm sorry, sweetheart. My bad."

He reaches for your hand and manages to uncross your arms. You're stubborn in your irritation, but Dean is the king of persuasion, giving you teasing, flirty bedroom eyes and waggling brows as he pulls you towards him.

If you're still reluctant to soften, he adds, "Come on, don't be a sourpuss. Come 'ere."

Eventually he breaks you, making you laugh and hit his arm with no real force behind it.

Even Sam shakes his head, seeing how his brother manages to pacify you by sliding his arm around your shoulders across the booth. Dean leans in and kisses along your neck. He inhales your scent and hums in pleasure.

Sam clears his throat. He has to awkwardly look away.

"Gonna forgive me?" Dean asks, his lips moving against your skin. "Though I gotta admit, I kinda like it when you're jealous. All growly and fiesty. Got myself a little tiger."

You roll your eyes, but your lips tug at a smile. Your face warms in a blush, especially as his hand wanders under your jacket and teasingly up your side.

You slip your fingers into his hair, making sure to give a sharp little tug on it for good measure. He just laughs.

Oh, you'll forgive him, but maybe you'll make him do a little more penance when you all get back home.

Beau Arlen

Beau is a jealous man from the onset when a man flirts with you.

His lips purse, his jaw clicks, and he keeps a firm eye on the situation. He doesn't like it.

But to his credit, he tries not to act on it right away, letting you handle it the way you want to.

However, like Dean, the moment someone gets into your personal space or tries to touch you, he's pulling out some Sheriff moves.

If the man grabs at you, Beau's got his arm twisted behind his back so fast, he can almost feel ligaments popping. Beau gives a calm, but firm warning before sending the guy on his way. (He'd like to do more, but the department frowns on excessive violence.)

Maybe part of you gets annoyed at the show of jealousy, but a larger part of you can't help but be turned on when he protects you. You know it's not because he thinks you need protecting, but because he wants to.

"Can't help it, darlin'," he's said. "It's just how I was raised."

But you're the one that bristles when Danielle, a PTA mom at Emily's school, flirts with him. She laughs at his corny jokes with her white teeth and her perfectly layered and coiffed blonde hair.

She even gives him an extra cookie from her offering at the school's bake sale. (She knows what most of this town knows -- that the way to the Sheriff's heart is all too often through his stomach.)

Beau just nods along, smiling polite with that charming grin of his, totally oblivious while he eats. The last straw for you is when she wipes a bit of chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

Your mouth falls open in shock. "Are you shitting me?"

You accidentally say it out loud, earning not only your boyfriend's surprised look, but Danielle's guilty one as well. (And some of the kids.)

Blushing in embarrassment, you pivot on your heel and start packing up your supplies for the bake sale.

That's when Beau realizes that he fucked up.

He politely excuses himself from Danielle and goes to help you (wiping the crumbs off his face and licking chocolate off his thumb). He can tell you're feeling more than a little icy towards him, but he tries to make up for it by doing all the heavy lifting, bringing back things to the car, and helping you with the bags before he calls Emily over.

It's a long car ride home, awkward and tense. Emily can tell something's off between you and her dad, but when she asks about it, you claim nothing's wrong.

Beau knows better.

He waits until the three of you get home to the apartment you share with him, and after putting the bake sale stuff away, he follows you into the bedroom.

"Sweetheart--"

"What the hell was that, Beau?" You come in hot with it, and Beau is quick to try and ease your tension with an apology.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"Couldn't you see that she was eyeing you like a honey-glazed ham?"

Beau's lips twitch at a grin, but you're not amused. You cross your arms and give him a warning look. That's when he wises up.

"Okay, you're right. I'm sorry." He chances taking a few slow steps towards you, raising his brows and keeping his hands up in surrender.

You eye him narrowly, but you let him get close enough to slip his arms around you. He gathers you against his chest and presses a lingering kiss to your cheek.

"I mean it. Won't happen again," he promises. His hands mold to the curve of your waist and squeeze gently. His lips move, burning a sweet path along your jawline, your chin, over the apple of your cheeks, and finally your lips. You breathe into it, and you can't help but cling to the front of his buttoned-down shirt.

"Do me a favor," you say quietly between kisses. "Don't eat Danielle's cookies."

Beau smiles against your lips. "Don't you worry, darlin'. From now on, I'll tell her that I've got some good cookie at home."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Oh, Ben doesn't fuck around.

...Well, in the sense that he can't tolerate another man even looking at you flirtatiously, or otherwise with any kind of intent.

Depending on the severity, at best, it'll have Ben shooting the man a stony look of warning.

At worst, it ruins the day -- namely with the sound of bone snapping and a man's sobbing howl of pain.

You try to get him to tone it down ("For God's sake, Ben. It's fine. Just relax."), but this is one thing he well and truly doesn't budge on.

Ben is possessive. Because you're his. His to touch, and his to protect.

In his mind, it's fucking simple.

Whenever you get irritated with this brutish, knuckle-dragging, caveman mentality, you try to remember why he does it.

It's indicative of how much he actually cares about you.

Because if he didn't, he wouldn't really give a shit if other men were flirting with you. (He'd just find another woman to try and charm back to his apartment.)

So you've learned how to try and finesse these situations so that Ben doesn't notice.

You've also stopped letting down men easy, proverbially cutting off their dick and balls with your words.

Because it's quite literally to save their dumbass life.

But when other women flirt with Ben, he takes it all with indulgent smiles, throwing in a wink and a sweetheart every now and then.

He doesn't blame them for flirting with him, checking him out. He's Soldier Boy, after all, and in his mind, it's not his fault they can't help themselves around him.

However, a smile and a wink is all that he allows himself.

If he truly cares about you (and though he doesn't often express it in words, he does), then the unfamiliar twinge of guilt stops him whenever he almost accepts a woman's alluring invitation--spoken or unspoken.

His mouth might spew arrogance and gilded lies, but his actions too often betray what he really feels.

And what he really feels can't be any more clear than when he goes after you, instead of indulging the woman who basically undressed him with her eyes, whispered sultry, sexy offerings in his ear, and invited him to go home with her.

Seeing you take off out the double doors of the club, Ben rolls his eyes. He brushes the woman off without a backwards glance, and follows you out into the night air. He grabs your hand before you can get far in your heels.

"What the hell's the matter now?" he asks dryly.

You turn on him with an incredulous look.

"That woman was practically sucking your neck, Ben!"

"All right, don't fucking overreact. You're getting hysterical," he says, before guiding you back into his arms.

"I'm not fucking hysterical, you ass!" You push against his chest, but he doesn't budge, nor does he let you go. This isn't a good area, and he doesn't want you out in these streets at this time of night without him at your side.

"Ben," you say sharply. You look up at him in irritation, but he just smirks and strokes your side with his thumb.

Yes, (in his mind) you're being a little difficult, but he thinks your jealousy is amusing, adorable, and kind of hot all at the same time.

Ben doesn't bother with saying anything more to convince you. He just slips a hand behind your neck and kisses you soundly.

He invades your mouth with his tongue and devours you, reminding you that you're the one he wants.

He waylays you with his strong hands framing your body against his, and with his sinful mouth, until you finally melt into his embrace.

He's chosen you countless time before, and he knows he'll keep choosing you, for as long as this lasts.

Russell Shaw

Russell always clocks the "situation" right away when a man starts to flirt with you.

He's not one to make a scene of it at first, depending on the time and place.

But he is quick to sidle up to your side, pointedly slip a hand along your waist, and greet you with a deceptive smile.

"Hey, sweetheart. Let's grab that table over there. 'S more comfortable than the bar."

He glances up at the man, sharpness hidden well behind his green eyes. Whether the guy picks up on it or not, Russell is making a mugshot in his mind -- and he never forgets a face.

You eye him knowingly, but you let him guide you away. He's kind of cute when he's jealous, and it doesn't take much to spark that well of protectiveness that lies in wait just under his skin.

Russell isn't easily fazed by most things, but one sure way to provoke his temper (and those rougher, darker shades of him that he tries his best not to show you) is for a man to push his luck with you.

It really wouldn't take much effort at all for the former soldier to have a man clutching his bloody, shattered nose, let alone to dump his broken body in front of the closest hospital. But somehow, Russell manages to curb those darker urges. (Again, don't tempt him.)

But when another woman flirts with him, you're the one who starts to have steam coming out of your ears.

Russell doesn't miss much. He recognizes the sultry inflection in the woman's words. He catches the subtle, sensuous gleam in her eyes when she rakes him up and down with them.

He also notes the moment you look over and realize what's happening.

Regardless if you're looking or not, he tries his best to stay distant, but polite, even as a warning twinge of "aww shit" runs up his spine.

He tries to play things off with an amiable smile and being purposefully oblivious.

Until the woman gets bold, slipping her hand over Russell's and up his arm a bit, before she withdraws, tilting her head with a sweet-as-pie smile.

Cue Russ's awkward laugh/clearing of the throat. Before he has time to fully pull away and just come out with the, Sorry, I actually have a girlfriend -- you return to his side and pointedly grab his hand.

"Come on, honey, we'll be late," you say, giving him a tense smile.

The aww shit feeling is back, but Russell just nods and falls into step with you.

When you two have enough privacy to hash it out, you let him have it.

"What the hell was that?!"

Russell can't help but chuckle. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I tried to keep it classy, but that woman was persistent. Not that I blame her--"

"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes (not that you really blame her either). Then you stare at your man in annoyance, crossing your arms. "I didn't see you trying all that hard to fend her off, huh, Romeo? If another man had touched me like that, you would've broken his fingers off, like a fucking caveman."

Russell's brows raise at the dig, but the way you're getting all testy is kind of cute (and also kinda hot).

"All right. You got me there," he says. He slips his arms around your waist and tries to soften you with a charming grin. "Come on, sweetheart. You know I'm not going anywhere."

"Do I?" you blurt out, before you have a chance to reign it back in.

Russell's contract jobs take him all over the country -- all over the world. Yes, he's on his way out, he claims. He wants to settle down with you, or so he says.

But you have no idea of knowing what he does when he's not with you.

All those days out on the road, crashing in skeevy motels, winding down at dive bars -- has he ever been tempted to "sample" the local fare? Has he ever...

Russell's amusement fades, sobering into a frown and a furrowing of his brows. He hums in disapproval. He doesn't like what he's seeing in your eyes: doubt, most of all.

"Hey," he says. It's a serious tone you don't often hear in his voice. He curls a finger under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his.

"I'm gonna need you to listen to me, and listen good," he says. You frown at that, but he brushes his thumb across your cheek, a small, but tender caress. "You and me, we've got something good. I know what that means. So you can believe me when I say, I'm in this. I'm right here, even when I'm not here."

And he smiles at you. "That make sense?"

Slowly, you start to smile too. "Not really," you laugh.

But it does. You know what he's trying to say, and...you believe him. Your fingers curl in the front of his shirt.

Tentatively, you lean up and press your lips to his; just a sweet, slow meeting.

Russell cups your cheek and leans in for a deeper taste, a deeper conviction of every word he just said.

I love you, is what it really means, even if he's not able to say that just yet.

AN: 😮‍💨 Well, there we go! lol I love me a protective man. 💜 Hope you enjoy this set of headcanons!

Join My Patreon 🌟 Get early access to new stories, bonus content, and first looks at upcoming stories, send me requests, and more!

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Beau Arlen Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist 

Dean, Beau, Soldier Boy + Russell Tag List (Part 1)

If you would like to get notified every time I post a story, feel free to follow my side blog @zepskieswrites with notifications on so you don't miss out. 💜

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @mostlymarvelgirl

@thebiggerbear @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @riteofpassage77

@deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @sanscas @mxltifxnd0m @suckitands33

@kaleldobrev @spnwoman @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @pieandmonsters @trashmoutth

@globetrotter28 @adoringanakin @midnightmadwoman @chevroletdean @tayl0rfanatic

@chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @spnfamily-j2 @everything-is-all-clear

@deansbbyx @sarahgracej @chernayawidow @mimaria420 @stoneyggirl2

@fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like @waywardxwords @waynes-multiverse @twinkleinadiamondsky

@my-stories-vault @kayleighwinchester @rizlowwritessortof @cookiechipdough @sixxteenbullets

@tmb510 @syrma-sensei @artemys-ackles @malindacath @mrsjenniferwinchester

[wendichester]

Cute Dean request with a bit of smug Dean

Based on the truth episode loosely, the whole time on the mission Dean’s been trying to get you to admit you’d “hit that” with him in his cocky smug flirtation, so when Dean realises he’s cursed with people telling him the truth, he decides to prove to you both that you want to sleep with him except he gets more than he bargains for when you actually admit feelings and your view on him (the whole “you think so little of yourself but you’re a good guy” spiel) that hits him to his core

˚ ༘ ೀ⋆｡˚ loose lips,

summary. being cursed isn't always bad, right?

pairing. dean winchester x reader

wordcount. 687.

notes. i just love writing dean throw off guard. suits the hell out of him 😮‍💨

Dean has been insufferable the entire case.

“You’d totally hit this,” he says, leaning against the Impala with that cocky smirk that you both love and loathe.

You roll your eyes for what feels like the hundredth time. “In your dreams, Winchester.”

“Oh, come on,” he teases, striding closer. “You’re not fooling anyone, sweetheart. Just admit it. You think I’m irresistible.”

“Dean, you’re irresistible to waitresses, maybe,” you shoot back, grinning when his smirk falters for half a second.

He’s been relentless since the case started—a strange series of deaths linked to a cursed item that forces people to tell the truth. Dean, being Dean, has been using the situation to dig at everyone’s secrets. But then, you got hit with the curse, and everything that falls from your pretty lips is nothing more, nothing less than the brutal truth.

Back at the motel, the conversation spirals once again. Dean perches himself on the edge of the table, legs spread in that way that commands attention.

“So,” he says, voice dropping into a teasing lilt, “guess now’s your chance to prove yourself.”

You sigh, shooting him a sharp look. “Prove myself about what, exactly?”

“You’re cursed,” he points out, blatantly smug. As you glare at him, he takes it as his cue to continue. “That you’re not dying to jump me,” he says, his grin widening. “Because I’ve got to tell you, sweetheart, all signs point to yes.”

This conversation is about to get a whole lot more dangerous. “Fine, Dean. You want the truth?”

“Let’s test it,” he says, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Do you think I’m hot?”

You hesitate, your face heating.

“Yes,” you blurt, immediately slapping a hand over your mouth.

Dean’s grin stretches even wider. “Knew it!”

You groan, turning away from him. “This is so unfair.”

“Unfair?” he teases, stepping closer. “Come on, sweetheart, just admit it. You’ve thought about it. Us. Together.”

You clench your jaw, trying to resist, but the words spill out anyway. “Yes, okay? I’ve thought about it.” You cross the room, arms crossed, standing close enough to wipe the smug look off his face. “But not for the reasons you think.”

That gets his attention. The playful glint in his eyes dims, and his smirk falters. “What do you mean?”

“You think it’s just about your stupid good looks or your dumb one-liners?” You take a steadying breath. “Dean, you’re one of the best men I’ve ever known. You’d die for the people you care about. You’re brave, loyal, and selfless, even when you don’t think you’re worth a damn. You think I haven’t noticed?”

Dean blinks, his jaw tightening as he processes your words. The room feels heavy with the weight of your confession.

“And the worst part,” you continue, “is you don’t see it. You don’t even believe you deserve to be loved.”

For a moment, Dean looks completely unguarded, the mask he wears every day slipping just enough for you to see the vulnerability beneath. “You really see me like that?” he asks, his voice quiet, almost unsure.

“I do,” you say simply, the truth settling between you like some sort of fragile truce.

He lets out a soft, humorless chuckle, running a hand over his face. “Well, I wasn’t expecting that.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, offering a small smile, “maybe you should stop fishing for answers if you’re not ready to hear them.”

Dean stands up, stepping closer, his green eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. “Maybe I needed to hear it,” he murmurs.

You don’t move as he reaches up, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. His touch is surprisingly soft, and when he speaks again, his voice is steady. “You deserve the truth too, you know. You mean more to me than I’ve ever let on.”

Your chest tightens as the honesty in his words hits you. It isn’t cocky, isn’t flirtatious—it’s just Dean, stripped of his usual bravado.

The curse might force the truth out of you, but for once, it doesn’t feel like a burden—it feels like freedom.

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @krabog ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @nymphet-quenn

[wolvietxt]

ᰔ what really matters !

pairing : dean winchester x fem!reader warnings : shy!reader, crazy overthinking, friends to lovers, insecurities, implied anxiety, crying, hurt / comfort, jealousy, kiss, dean flirts w other people to show off, happy ending, size diff wc : 6.5k a/n : currently working on a part 2! 

it was supposed to be a simple salt-and-burn. sam had found a lead on a restless spirit haunting a small-town diner, and dean, ever eager for some pie and action, had jumped at the opportunity. you’d tagged along, like always, quietly sitting in the back seat of the impala, offering occasional input between the brothers’ banter.  

the plan was clear: investigate during the day, torch the bones at night. simple enough. yet somehow, being in close proximity to dean for an extended period always felt anything but simple.  

“you’ve been awfully quiet back there,” dean said, turning slightly in the driver’s seat to glance at you. his green eyes lingered a moment too long, forcing him to correct the car’s steering. “everything good?”  

you nodded quickly, avoiding his gaze. “yeah, just… thinking.”  

“uh-oh,” he teased, a grin tugging at his lips. “are you thinking weird again? i told you, sweetheart, you don’t need to do that with us. leave the worrying to sammy.”  

sam huffed from the passenger seat. “thanks for that, dean.”  

you offered a small smile, unsure how to respond. dean’s words felt warm, like a blanket, but your mind couldn’t stop picking them apart. was he teasing, or did he mean it? did he think you worried too much? was it annoying?  

you shook the thoughts away as the car rolled to a stop in front of the diner.  

inside, the place was charming in that worn-down, small-town way. red vinyl booths, a jukebox in the corner, and a waitress who seemed to know everyone’s name. dean leaned against the counter, his usual swagger on full display.  

“so, martha,” he said, flashing the waitress a smile that could’ve melted butter, “anything weird going on around here lately? cold spots, flickering lights, mysterious whispers…?”  

you hovered awkwardly near sam, feeling out of place. martha’s eyes sparkled as she leaned closer to dean, completely ignoring you and sam.  

“oh, weird stuff always happens around here,” she said with a giggle. “but nothing too scary. why, you boys hunting ghosts or something?”  

dean chuckled. “or something.”  

you shifted on your feet, pretending to study the menu even though you weren’t planning on ordering anything. dean’s charm was undeniable, and you’d seen him use it a million times to get information, but it always left you with a strange, hollow feeling.  

not that it mattered. it wasn’t like he meant anything by it.  

“you alright?” sam asked softly, pulling you from your thoughts.  

“yeah,” you lied. “just tired.”  

sam didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t push.  

the rest of the afternoon passed in a blur of questions and notes. martha had mentioned a former cook who’d died on the job and hinted at some unusual occurrences in the kitchen, which gave you all a solid lead.  

“we’ll dig up his records, find the grave, and salt-and-burn tonight,” sam said as you walked back to the car.  

“easy peasy,” dean added, slinging an arm around your shoulders as he held the door open for you. “see, this is why you keep us around. all the hard work, none of the worrying.”  

your heart jumped at the casual contact, but you forced yourself to focus. it didn’t mean anything. he was just being dean.  

the graveyard was damp and cold by the time you arrived. armed with shovels, salt, and gasoline, you worked as quickly as possible, trying not to draw attention.  

“you’re sure this is the right spot?” you asked, glancing at the headstone.  

“positive,” sam said. “records match up.”  

“don’t worry,” dean said with a wink, “we’ve got this.”  

you weren’t sure how he managed to be so confident all the time. it was like he didn’t feel fear, or at least he never showed it. you, on the other hand, couldn’t stop thinking about what might go wrong. as the brothers dug, you stayed on lookout, flashlight in hand. the woods were eerily quiet, every rustle of leaves setting your nerves on edge.  

“hey,” dean called, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “you good over there, sweetheart?”  

you nodded, gripping the flashlight tighter. “yeah, just keeping watch.”  

“you’re cute when you’re focused, you know that?” he said, grinning as he tossed another shovelful of dirt aside.  

your face burned, and you quickly turned away, pretending to scan the trees. cute? he probably didn’t mean it. he said stuff like that all the time.  

still, the word echoed in your mind, making it hard to think straight.  

the ghost showed up right on cue, just as dean and sam hit the coffin. it was a tall, shadowy figure with glowing eyes, and boy did it move fast. too fast.  

“stay back!” dean shouted, stepping in front of you as the spirit lunged.  

sam was already throwing salt and iron, keeping it at bay while dean lit the match and dropped it into the open grave. flames roared to life, and the ghost let out an ear-splitting scream before vanishing.  

you stood frozen, heart pounding as the grave smoldered.  

“you okay?” dean asked, turning to you. his hands landed on your shoulders, steady and warm.  

you nodded, your voice stuck in your throat.  

“you sure?” he pressed, his green eyes scanning your face.  

“yeah, i’m fine,” you managed to whisper, hoping the fear in your eyes wasn’t too obvious.

he didn’t look convinced but let it go, giving you a reassuring squeeze before stepping back.  

the ride back to the motel was quiet, exhaustion settling over the group.  

“not bad for a day’s work,” dean said, trying to lighten the mood.  

you offered a small smile, but your mind was still racing. every little thing he said, every glance, every touch — it all felt so significant, and yet it probably meant nothing to him.  

“you’re thinking too much again,” dean teased, catching your eye in the rearview mirror. “what’d i tell you about that?”  

“it’s nothing,” you said quickly, hoping he’d drop it.  

but dean being dean, he didn’t.  

“come on,” he said, turning in his seat to face you. “spill it. what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”  

you froze, unsure how to respond. sam shot you a sympathetic look but didn’t intervene.  

“seriously,” dean pressed, his voice softer now. “are you good?”  

you nodded, forcing a smile. “yeah, ‘m just tired.”  

he studied you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before turning back to the road.  

back at the motel, you retreated to your room as quickly as possible, needing space to breathe.  

dean had always been a little too much — too loud, too charming, too... everything. and yet, you couldn’t help but feel drawn to him, even if you knew it was hopeless. you sighed, flopping onto the bed and staring at the ceiling.  

somewhere in the room next door, dean was probably cracking jokes with sam, completely unaware of the chaos he caused in your mind.  

it was fine. it had to be fine.  

because as much as you wanted to believe he saw you as more than a friend, you couldn’t risk getting your hopes up.  

the day started like any other, with sam at the laptop, you poring over your notes, and dean bustling around with an air of restless energy.  

“coffee?” dean asked, holding up a cup for you.  

you nodded, offering a small smile. “thanks.”  

he plopped down beside you at the motel table, his knee bumping yours. “so, what’s the game plan today, professor?”  

“um…” you hesitated, flipping through the notebook in front of you. “so, i think we should — ”  

“let me guess,” dean interrupted with a grin. “the safest, most boring route possible, right?”  

you blinked, taking a second to process what he’d just said, hurt surely beginning to form in your features.

“it’s not boring,” you mumbled.  

“sure thing… but hey, relax!” he said, patting your shoulder. “you’re good at what you do, even if you’re a little… well, a lot predictable.”  

your stomach twisted. predictable? was that how he saw you?  

“thanks, dean,” you muttered, staring down at your notes to hide the burn in your cheeks. sam noticed though. sam always noticed.

sam shot dean a look from across the room. “hey, maybe ease up a little, man.”  

“what?” dean said, shrugging him off, a deep chuckle reverberating from his chest. “i’m just messing with her.”  

the lighthearted tone didn’t soften the sting. you knew dean teased everyone, but his words stuck like a burr under your skin, refusing to let go.  

soon after, the three of you piled into the impala, the rumble of the engine filling the silence as dean cranked up the radio. you stared out the window, letting the music blur into background noise while your mind replayed the conversation from earlier.  

predictable. you thought, the word echoing in your head.  

you weren’t mad at dean — how could you be? he didn’t mean anything by it. but the overthinking wouldn’t let up, weaving a web of doubt and insecurity that clung to you like static.  

“you okay?” sam asked from the front seat, glancing back at you.  

you forced a smile. “yeah. just tired.”  

sam didn’t press, but his concerned expression lingered.  

the diner was bustling with mid-morning activity when you arrived, the smell of coffee and sizzling bacon wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. you slid into the booth, hoping the noise would drown out your thoughts.  

“what can i get ya?” the waitress asked, her voice cheerful as she slid the menus across the table.

“just a coffee, please,” you said quickly, barely looking up as your fingers fumbled over the paper.

“and a stack of pancakes,” dean added, leaning forward and giving her a grin that was just a little too easy. “extra syrup. gotta start the day off right, y’know?”

the waitress’s eyes lit up, and she laughed, her attention lingering on dean as she jotted down the order. there was something almost playful in the way she looked at him, an expression that made your chest tighten.

“you sure know how to charm, don’t ya?” she teased, her voice warm and full of flirtation.

“what can i say?” dean replied, that easy smirk tugging at his lips. “comes pretty easily when i’m speaking to women like you.”

you forced your eyes back to the menu, though you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at the way the waitress’s fingers lingered on the pen, her attention still fixed on dean. the two of them seemed to be in a world of their own, and you were just... here. watching. waiting.

“what about you, sweetheart?” the waitress turned to you, her smile softening just slightly, though it didn’t reach her eyes.

“uh, just coffee, please,” you mumbled again, feeling heat crawl up your neck. your voice felt small in the noise of the diner, a whisper lost among the clatter of plates and low hum of conversation.

“gotcha,” she said, giving you a brief, almost dismissive nod before turning and making her way to the kitchen. you could still feel her attention on you, like an echo, but this time, it was empty, no warmth behind it.

dean shifted beside you, leaning back and letting out a low chuckle. “she’s got quite the smile, huh?” his eyes were teasing, his grin crooked as he looked over at you and sam. the joke was light, but there was an edge to it that made you feel off balance.

you forced a laugh, but it came out hollow, cracking under the weight of the moment. “yeah, sure,” you said, keeping your eyes fixed on the coffee cup in front of you, the porcelain cool and solid beneath your fingertips.

“you okay?” sam’s voice broke through the silence once again. dean’s teasing slipping away as his eyes studied you too. there was a flicker of concern in them, but before you could let yourself get lost in it, he added, “didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, sweetheart. it’s just... that kind of smile, you know?”

the question hung in the air, and you couldn’t tell if he was talking about the waitress or you. but the sharp sting of jealousy you felt at the thought made your throat tighten. you forced a smile, though it felt like a lie. “i’m fine. just... not hungry, that’s all.”

“you sure?” he pressed, his expression softening as he reached for his coffee. the playful energy had faded, and now there was something else, a vulnerability that felt rare for him.

“yeah,” you said, voice quiet. “just... never mind.”

he leaned back, eyes still on you, but this time, there was a shadow in them, a shift that made your heart twist. he looked away, watching the waitress as she came back with a smile that was just for him. his eyes softened, and he laughed as she spoke to him, teasing and warm.

it was almost too much, the way he could be so effortlessly charming. your chest ached with the realization that the way he looked at her was the same way he looked at you sometimes, though it felt different when it was just the two of you, alone in the dim light of the bunker. 

by the time the food arrived, your appetite had disappeared. dean was still chatting with the waitress every time she came by, his voice low and easy in a way that made your chest ache.  

you stared at your coffee cup, your fingers tightening around it as your thoughts spiraled. was this what dean wanted? someone confident, flirty, and self-assured? someone like her?  

the sting of earlier comments layered on top, building a weight that felt impossible to carry.  

“you sure you’re okay?” sam asked again softly, his voice cutting through the haze.  

“fine,” you said quickly, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over.  

sam’s brow furrowed, but he didn’t push.  

dean, oblivious, kept talking. “man, this coffee’s strong enough to put hair on your chest. might wanna ease up, professor,” he teased, nudging you lightly.  

that was it. the dam broke.  

you barely registered standing up, the chair scraping loudly against the floor.  

“excuse me,” you muttered, your voice shaking.  

you hurried out of the diner, your chest tight and your vision blurred.  

sam found you a few minutes later, sitting on a bench just outside. he didn’t say anything at first, just sat down beside you and offered a quiet, grounding presence.  

“you wanna tell me what’s going on?” he asked eventually, his tone careful.  

you shook your head, unable to form the words.  

“okay,” he said gently. “you don’t have to talk. just breathe.”  

his arm slipped around your shoulders, pulling you close. the dam fully burst then, tears streaming down your face as you buried your head in your hands.  

sam held you, his voice low and steady. “you’re alright. just let it out.”  

his hand alternating between rubbing soothing circles on your back and tapping you lightly to the beat of your heart, the steady motions helping to calm the blur.

“‘m sorry, sam,” you choked out between sobs.  

“don’t apologize,” sam said firmly. “you don’t even owe anyone an explanation. especially not dean.”  

you flinched at the mention of his name, fresh waves of doubt and embarrassment washing over you.  

sam seemed to sense it, his tone softening even more. “he doesn’t mean half the crap he says, you know. he’s just… dean.”  

you managed a shaky nod, though the knot in your chest didn’t fully ease.  

“hey,” sam said, tipping your chin up to look at him. “you’re okay.”

he pressed a light kiss to your forehead, the gesture warm and comforting in a way that made you tear up all over again. sam had always had a way of calming you down, knowing what was wrong and when. you were very similar in lots of ways.

inside, dean sat in the booth, fidgeting with his coffee cup.  

“where’d they go?” the waitress asked, dropping off the check.  

“outside,” dean muttered, his gaze fixed on the window.  

he watched as sam wrapped you in a hug, his jaw tightening.  

“everything okay with your girl?” the waitress asked, her tone light.  

“she’s not my girl,” dean said quickly, his voice a little sharper than he intended.  

the waitress raised an eyebrow but didn’t push further, the hint of a smile ghosting over her features.

dean sighed, running a hand through his hair. he hadn’t meant to upset you — he never did — but the sight of you crying, with sam comforting you, made something twist in his chest. he threw some cash on the table and stood, his mind racing with a mix of guilt and something else he couldn’t quite name. jealousy, maybe?  

he pushed the thought aside, heading toward the door.  

“dean?” sam’s voice cut through the noise of the diner.  

dean turned, finding his brother standing outside the far doorway, his arm still draped protectively around you.  

“give her a minute,” sam said, his expression firm.  

dean nodded, swallowing hard as he watched you lean into sam’s side.  

he retreated back and stood in the doorway of the diner, his boots scuffing against the floor as he watched you outside with sam. his jaw ticked, the familiar burn of guilt twisting in his chest.  

you’d looked so hurt when you bolted. he hadn’t meant to upset you — hell, he rarely thought before he spoke, but he hated that his careless words had made you cry.  

and then there was sam, playing the role of the comforter, his arm draped around you like it was the most natural thing in the world.  

dean hated how that made him feel. jealousy wasn’t a look he liked wearing, but damn if it wasn’t fitting him like a glove right now. he shoved his hands into his pockets, staring down at the worn linoleum. when sam finally walked you back in, dean forced himself to meet your eyes.  

you glanced at him briefly, your cheeks blotchy and red, before dropping your gaze to the floor. the pang in his chest deepened.  

sam gave him a pointed look, one that said, don’t screw this up, before gently nudging you toward the booth.  

you slid in first, keeping as much distance between you and dean as possible.  

“hey,” dean started, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “you okay?”  

“i’m fine,” you murmured, not looking up.  

the waitress returned, her cheerfulness only adding to the tension at the table.  

“ready for the check?” she asked, glancing between the three of you.  

“yeah, we’re done,” dean said gruffly, tossing some cash onto the table without counting it. “keep the change.”  

the waitress hesitated, her gaze lingering on dean for a second too long before she turned and walked away.  

sam cleared his throat. “we should probably hit the road.”  

“yeah,” dean muttered, sliding out of the booth.  

the ride back to the motel was quieter than it had ever been. the only sound was the low hum of the engine and the occasional rustle of paper as sam reviewed the hunt notes. dean kept glancing at you in the rearview mirror, but you didn’t notice. you were too busy staring out the window, your fingers twisting nervously in your lap.  

“so,” sam said awkwardly, breaking the silence, “any ideas on how we’re gonna track this thing down?”  

dean grunted. “same as always. follow the trail, kill the thing.” 

sam shot him a look but didn’t press further.  

you stayed quiet, your thoughts miles away.  

back at the motel, you retreated to your room almost immediately, mumbling something about needing to check your notes. dean and sam both watched you go, the motel door clicking shut behind you.  

dean’s jaw tightened as the guilt settled deeper in his chest. he wasn’t used to feeling like this — so unsure, so aware of every single way he’d messed up. he rubbed a hand over his face, frustration building as he stared at the floor. he could feel sam's eyes on him, the tension thick in the air. he didn’t know how to fix it, and that made everything worse.

“dean, what the fuck? that shit you pulled at the diner… it doesn’t impress her you know. flirting with other people. christ.” sam said, his voice getting louder with every word, visibly stressing out. evidently, he’d been holding that in for a while now, waiting to get dean alone.

“i know i fucked up. okay, sam, i know.” dean snapped back.

“you’re gonna talk to her, right? you better.” sam asked, leaning against the kitchenette counter.  

“yeah,” dean muttered, running a hand through his hair. “just… give me a minute.”  

you didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but the thin motel walls didn’t leave much to the imagination.  

hearing dean pacing and muttering under his breath made your stomach twist. you couldn’t make out the words, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out he was talking about you. the familiar voice of self-doubt crept in, louder than ever.  

he’s probably frustrated with me. i overreacted. i always overreact.

you sank onto the edge of the bed, burying your face in your hands.  

dean knocked on your door a little later, his knuckles rapping softly against the wood.  

“hey,” he called, his voice hesitant. “you busy?”  

you hesitated, then opened the door a crack. “no.”  

he stood there, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself.  

“can we talk?” he asked.  

you nodded, stepping aside to let him in.  

he glanced around the room, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. “listen,” he started, “about earlier…”  

you shifted nervously, not meeting his eyes.  

“i’m sorry,” he said, his voice low. “i didn’t mean to upset you. i was just… being a bit of an idiot, like usual.”  

you looked up at him then, surprised by the sincerity in his tone.  

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you said quietly.  

“yeah, i did,” he admitted, his green eyes locking onto yours. “i was an ass, and you didn’t deserve that.”  

the honesty in his voice made your chest ache.  

“it’s okay,” you said, though you weren’t entirely sure you believed it.  

“it’s not,” dean insisted. “you’re… you’re important to me. and the last thing i want is to make you feel like crap.”  

your breath hitched at his words, the weight of them settling over you like a warm blanket.  

“thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.  

he took a step closer, his gaze searching yours. “are we okay?”  

you nodded, a small smile tugging at your lips.  

“good,” he said, the tension in his shoulders easing.  

he seemed to hesitate a little before taking another step closer, looking down at you as he seemed to study your expression. he smiled once again, a big cheesy dean smile and then after he seemed to contemplate what to do he turned on his heel after planting a soft kiss on your head. as he turned to leave, you couldn’t help but wonder if you’d just imagined the way his eyes lingered on you, soft and full of something you couldn’t quite name.  

inside his own room, dean collapsed onto the bed with a groan. he stared at the ceiling, replaying everything over in his head.  

he’d apologized, sure, but it didn’t feel like enough. not when you’d looked so… defeated. for one of the first times in his life he felt awkward, he hoped you hadn’t thought too much of the kiss, however short lived. his chest tightened at the memory of your tear-streaked face in the diner. it was like a punch to the gut every time he thought about it.  

“damn it,” he muttered, scrubbing a hand down his face.  

he hated this. hated feeling like he was losing his grip on something that mattered so much to him. because you did matter — to him, more than you probably knew. and that was the problem. he wasn’t sure how to show you without screwing it up further.  

the tension you thought was resolved seemed to linger between you and dean the next day, hanging over the group like a storm cloud. sam did his best to fill the silence, but it was clear neither of you were really in the mood to talk.  

“i’ll check out the library,” sam said finally, grabbing his bag. “you two stay here, see if you can dig up anything online.”  

dean nodded, not meeting your eyes as sam left. the door clicked shut, leaving the two of you alone.  

“you want the laptop?” dean asked, his voice gruff.  

you nodded, taking it from him without a word.  

he sighed, leaning back in his chair. “look, i don’t know how many more times i can say i’m sorry, but — ”  

“you don’t have to keep apologizing,” you interrupted, your voice softer than you intended. a stark contrast to his.

he blinked, caught off guard. “i just… i hate that i made you feel like that.”  

you glanced at him, your heart aching at the genuine regret in his eyes.  

“it’s okay, dean. you’ve already said sorry, i thought that was it,” you said, even though part of you wasn’t sure it really was.  

he nodded, his jaw tightening as he looked away.  

that night, dean stood outside your door again, debating whether or not to knock. he hated this distance between you two, hated feeling like he was walking on eggshells. but most of all, he hated that he didn’t know how to fix it.  

finally, he knocked, his heart pounding in his chest.  

“come in,” you called softly.  

he opened the door, hesitating in the doorway.  

“hey,” he said, his voice quiet. “you doing okay?”  

you nodded, though the tightness in your chest said otherwise.  

he stepped inside, closing the door behind him.  

“look,” he started, running a hand through his hair, “i know i’m not great at this kind of thing, but… i care about you. more than i probably should.”  

your breath caught, his words hitting you like a freight train.  

“dean, i…”  

he held up a hand, cutting you off. “just… let me say this, okay? i care about you, and i hate seeing you upset. especially if it’s because of me.”  

you swallowed hard, your chest tightening as you fought back tears.  

“you’re not just a friend to me,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.  

your heart skipped a beat, his words sinking in. what could he mean by that? what you’d always wished he felt for you?

“dean,” you said softly, your voice trembling, “you mean a lot to me too.”  

he looked at you, his green eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name.  

“so… are we good?” he asked, his voice laced with uncertainty.  

you nodded, a small smile breaking through the tension.  

“yeah,” you said, your voice steadier this time.  

he smiled back, the tension in his shoulders finally easing fully. and for the first time in days, things between you felt like they might actually be okay.  

you weren’t sure how it happened, but somehow you and dean ended up crammed together in the tiny motel room armchair, your knees brushing his and his warmth radiating off him like a furnace.  

sam had taken off to follow a lead, leaving you and dean to man the research front. but the computer battery had died, the coffee had gone cold, and now you were both lazily flipping through books neither of you were really reading.  

dean tilted his head, watching you as you squinted at the small print. “you always make that face when you read?”  

“what face?” you asked, looking up at him.  

“that cute little scrunched-up thing,” he said, a teasing grin spreading across his face.  

your stomach flipped, and you ducked your head, suddenly very interested in the book in your lap. “i don’t scrunch my face.”  

“yeah, you do,” he said, leaning closer. “like this.”  

he exaggerated a dramatic squint, furrowing his brow and twisting his mouth into something ridiculous.  

you couldn’t help it — you giggled, the sound soft and bubbling out of you before you could stop it.  

dean grinned wider, clearly pleased with himself. “there it is,” he said, his voice warm.  

for a moment, everything felt easy, natural, like the awkwardness and tension of the past few days had melted away. but then your eyes caught the faint smear of grease on his hand, and your mind drifted.  

you thought back to the first time you’d realized you had a crush on dean winchester.  

it had been a quiet night in the bunker, just the two of you tinkering with the impala. he’d handed you a wrench, his hand brushing yours, and you’d felt it — a spark, like a live wire connecting the two of you.  

he’d smiled at you then, soft and genuine, and it had made your heart race.  

you’d brushed it off at first, chalking it up to admiration or something equally benign. but the more time you spent with him, the more you realized it was something else entirely.  

you’d fallen for him — hard.  

and it wasn’t just his looks, though you’d be lying if you said those green eyes and that cocky grin didn’t make your knees weak. it was everything about him: the way he protected the people he cared about, the way he laughed, the way he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders and still managed to crack a joke.  

but he’d never see you that way. how could he? you were just… you.  

and then there was the size difference. it wasn’t something you normally thought about, but around dean, it was impossible to ignore. he was tall, broad-shouldered, and solid in a way that made you feel both safe and utterly self-conscious.  

you, on the other hand, felt small in comparison — too small, too quiet, too unsure of yourself to ever catch his attention.  

“hey,” dean said, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts. “you good?”  

“yeah,” you said quickly, forcing a smile.  

“you sure? you spaced out there for a second.”  

“just tired,” you lied.  

he didn’t look convinced, but he let it go, leaning back in the chair and stretching his legs out in front of him.  

dean wasn’t immune to overthinking either, though he’d never admit it out loud. he’d had a thing for you for what felt like forever, but he’d always convinced himself it was a bad idea.  

you were shy, sweet, and way too good for someone like him. besides, he didn’t want to scare you off — not when having you around was one of the few things that made the job bearable.  

so he kept his feelings to himself, content to just be your friend, even if it killed him a little every time you smiled at him like he hung the moon.  

but there were moments — moments like now, with you sitting so close, your leg brushing his and your eyes darting to his every so often — that made it damn near impossible to keep his cool.  

“you know,” he said, his voice low, “you don’t have to keep everything to yourself.”  

you blinked at him, caught off guard. “what do you mean?”  

“i mean… you can talk to me,” he said, his gaze steady. “about anything.”  

your heart squeezed at the sincerity in his voice.  

“i know,” you said softly.  

he smiled at that, a small, lopsided grin that made your chest feel warm.  

“good,” he said, leaning forward slightly.  

the proximity made your breath hitch, your eyes locking onto his for a moment that felt like it stretched on forever. but then the moment passed, and he leaned back again, running a hand through his hair.  

later that night, as you lay in bed staring at the ceiling, your thoughts wandered again.  

you thought about all the little things dean did — how he always walked on the side closest to traffic, how he made sure you ate on hunts, how he was quick to tease but just as quick to defend you if anyone else tried.  

he cared about you. you knew that much.  

but as a friend, or something more?  

the uncertainty gnawed at you, and you rolled onto your side, pulling the blanket tighter around you.  

dean wasn’t faring much better. he sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the floor, his mind racing.  

he thought about all the times he’d come close to saying something, only to chicken out at the last second.  

he thought about the way you’d looked at him earlier, like you were trying to figure him out. he thought about how often he fucked up infront of you, trying to distract himself from his silly crush only to regret it afterwards. and he thought about the way you made him feel — like maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as broken as he thought he was.  

“screw it,” he muttered under his breath, standing up and heading for your door.  

a knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts, startling you. you sat up in bed, heart thudding.  

“it’s me,” dean’s voice came softly from the other side, muffled but familiar.  

“come in,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.  

the door creaked open, and dean stepped inside, his movements careful. he closed the door behind him quietly, as if not wanting to disturb the stillness of the night.  

“i couldn’t sleep,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck in that familiar way, his gaze briefly flicking to yours before darting away.  

“yeah, me neither,” you murmured, fingers twisting the edge of the blanket draped over your lap.  

he hesitated for a moment, standing awkwardly near the door before crossing the room and sitting down on the edge of your bed. the mattress dipped slightly under his weight, and for a moment, neither of you said anything.  

finally, dean broke the silence. “so i’ve been thinking,” he started, his voice quiet but deliberate. “about us.”  

your stomach flipped, your pulse quickening as his words hung in the air. “us?” you echoed, barely audible.  

he nodded, his jaw working like he was trying to find the right words. “you mean a lot to me,” he said finally, his voice rough around the edges. “more than i’ve ever really let on. i regret that.”

your breath caught, your chest tightening at the quiet vulnerability in his tone.  

“dean…” you began, but he held up a hand, his eyes meeting yours fully now.  

“let me say this,” he said, his voice firm but gentle. “i’ve spent so much time trying to keep things simple, to keep things from getting messy. but with you…” he trailed off, his expression softening as he searched your face. “it’s never been simple. and i wouldn’t want it to be.”  

his words hit you like a punch to the gut — raw, honest, and so undeniably him.  

“i don’t know if i’m any good at this,” he admitted, his hand brushing yours where it rested on the blanket. the touch was light, almost hesitant, but it sent a shiver up your spine. “but i want to try. if you’ll let me.”  

your heart raced, a thousand emotions swirling inside you. “dean, you don’t have to…”  

“i want to,” he interrupted, his voice steady. “i care about you. more than i probably should. and i don’t want to keep pretending like that’s not true.”  

your hand was fully engulfed in his now. you swallowed hard, his words settling over you like a warm blanket. he looked at you, his green eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.  

dean’s gaze flickered, his lips parting slightly before he closed them again, his hesitation palpable. his other hand hovered near yours, fingers brushing faintly, the touch so light it was almost imagined. the space between you seemed to shrink on its own, the weight of the moment settling over both of you. his eyes lingered, tracing the lines of your face as if memorizing every detail.  

his fingers shifted closer, finally grazing yours with deliberate care. the air grew warmer, each heartbeat louder than the last, as if the world itself held its breath, waiting.

“can i…?” he started, his voice trailing off as he leaned slightly closer, his gaze dropping to your lips before snapping back up to your eyes.  

you nodded, unable to find your voice, your chest tight with anticipation.  

his hand cupped your cheek gently, his thumb brushing against your skin as he leaned in. his lips met yours softly, testing, like he was afraid to push too far. but when you didn’t pull away, he pressed a little closer, his warmth grounding you.

the moment his lips met yours, the world seemed to tilt. his kiss was slow, deliberate, like he was savoring every second, his hand sliding from your cheek to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. your fingers clutched at his shirt, the fabric bunching beneath your grip as a quiet whimper escaped you.  

dean groaned in response, the sound low and rough, reverberating against your lips. it sent a shiver down your spine, your cheeks flushing hotter. his other hand found your waist, firm but gentle, anchoring you to him. his thumb traced the curve of your jaw as he deepened the kiss, his touch igniting something that left you breathless.

when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his eyes half-lidded and his breathing slightly uneven.  

“i’ve wanted to do that for so damn long,” he confessed, his voice low and filled with something you couldn’t quite name.  

“me too,” you whispered, your cheeks flushed and your heart pounding.  

he chuckled softly, the sound warm and comforting. “guess we’re both a little stubborn, huh?”  

you smiled, a weight lifting off your chest as his words settled into your heart. “maybe just a little.”  

dean’s fingers traced the edge of your jaw, his touch lingering as if he wasn’t ready to let go. “you’re fuckin’ awesome, you know that?” he said softly, his voice almost reverent. 

you giggled quietly, the sound light and easy. “if i’m fuckin’ awesome, what are you?” you said, mimicking his much deeper voice,

he smirked, his expression softening as he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment. “just lucky,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet sincerity that made your chest ache in the best way. 

ᰔ dean winchester : @person-005, @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing

taglist form linked in pinned post :3

[apocalypseornaw]

What If

Dean Winchester x Reader

You make assumptions after a night in Dean's bed that prove to be false

Warnings: Mention of steamy times, cursing, hurt feelings

Heat was the first sensation that hit you. The heat of a warm body curled up to your back. A strong arm laid across your stomach and warm breath hitting the back of your neck as he slept. How the hell had you ended up in this position when the two of you had simply set out to watch a movie last night after Sam had gone to bed?

You'd been in your room, laid across the bed reading a book Alex had sent you for your birthday. It was pretty good so far but you knew you wouldn't get far in it when you heard Dean singing lightly as his footsteps got closer to your open door.

You slid a bookmark in place and laid the book on your nightstand before your green eyed best friend ever Madeira to your door. You glanced up about the time he knocked “What's up Dean?” He smiled slightly “Well Sammy's gone to bed but Claire sent me a list of the top five rated horror movies. The top two we have on streaming”

A grin split your face “Go get them up, I'll grab drinks and meet you in the TV room” he winked at you “that's my girl” then turned to walk off down the hall.

You let out a sigh if only he knew what it did to you when he did shit like that. That wink, calling you his girl. The way he always invited you to watch movies, go for late night drives or how gentle he was patching you up after hunts. You shook your head to clear those thoughts out, he was your best friend. Yeah he was drop dead gorgeous but you couldn't help that you had eyes. You wouldn't ever cross a line he'd never acted as if he wanted to cross and risk that relationship.

____________________________

You were sitting next to Dean on the couch, your feet were curled up under you and Dean's favorite blanket was draped across you both. About halfway through the second movie a jumpscare actually got to you and without thinking you curled into his side, hiding your face in his chest.

He chuckled lightly as he tucked his arm around your body “Oh come on sweetheart. I've seen you take on shit a lot scarier than that and not blink!” You looked up at him and stuck your tongue out, trying to ignore just how close your faces were “Bite me Winchester. Real life doesn't bother me because if it can touch me and hurt me I can touch it and hurt it”

He shook his head “You're something else” you raised an eyebrow “What you mean by that” he raised his hand that wasn't curled around you to push your hair back that had fallen into your face “Beautiful, smart, badass. Pretty damn close to perfect” you could feel your cheeks warm slightly. It wasn't unusual for Dean to compliment you but it always made your stomach flip. “Oh shut up” you pushed against his chest hoping to turn this semi flirtatious moment into a teasing one but damn him if he didn't cup your chin gently and lift your head to meet his eyes before a smirk slipped onto his face “Make me”

You don't know what came over you at that moment. Maybe temporary insanity? Regardless you found yourself moving forward until your lips met his. It was just a simple kiss but something you'd dreamt of for far too long. It didn't take him even half a second to react. His hands went down to your hips, pulling you over into his lap and when the action caused a light gasp to leave your lips he slipped his tongue into your mouth rolling it against yours in a way that had you melting into him.

When you ground your hips down against his and a deep groan left him that was when reality set in. You were currently straddling your best friend, making out with him and damn near dry humping on the couch. You broke the kiss and damn near jumped off his lap. “I am so sorry Dean. I don't…I don't know what was going through my head”

He stood up, adjusting his jeans as he did so and your eyes flicked down to see a bulge that made your legs weak. The look in his eyes, damn how many waitresses and barmaids had you cussed over the years for having that look focused on them and now you couldn't think straight. “I wasn't exactly shoving you off” he replied taking a step closer and when you didn't back up he quickly covered the space between you pulling you into his arms “You're my best friend Y/N. Besides Sam no one on earth means as much to me as you do but that kiss was….fuck…if you want then this never happened. We'll turn on a different movie and nothing more”

“Or?” You asked, feeling your heart leap into your throat. A smirk slipped back onto his lips “Or we could go to my room and talk” “talk?” You repeated and he nodded “nothing has to happen”

________________________

A moan of Dean's name left your lips as he kissed a trail down your neck, his fingers slipping inside of you easily. “Fuck I love hear you say my name like that” he teased. It didn't take him long to find that one spot inside of you that had you clenching around his fingers and your legs shaking around his wrist.

He continued to pump his fingers lazily in and out of you as he worked you through the orgasm. When you weakly pushed at his wrist he caught your eyes before licking his fingers into his mouth, those sinful lips working as he sucked your juices off his fingers. “Taste as good as you look” you shook your head with a laugh “Take your pants off and get up here Dean” he grinned “Yes ma'am”

He stood long enough to slip his pants off then crawled up the bed, kissing his way up your body until he got to your lips. He caught them in a searing kiss that let you taste yourself on him. He pulled back enough to meet your eyes “Are you sure about this?” You nodded and felt his hardness pressed against your inner thigh “I want this”

He pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your entrance. When he slipped inside of you a moan left both of you at the feeling. He dropped his head down against your chest once he was fully inside of you to give you time to adjust. His lips left a trail across your collarbone “you feel so damn amazing sweetheart” After a moment the discomfort of the fullness of his gave way to pleasure so you turned his face to kiss him “Move Dean”

He began to roll his hips tentatively against yours and when your reaction was your eyes rolling back slightly at the feeling that was all the clearance he needed. “Eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see you come undone” it took you a minute to focus your eyes back on him and when you did he smiled almost shyly “look at you Y/N. Damn you're perfect” he pulled almost completely out of you then slammed back in. Your hands went to his shoulders, fingernails cutting into the skin as he sat a grueling pace that filled the room with the sound of skin hitting skin and both of you moaning the other's name.

When you felt yourself reaching that peak he bit down gently on your neck “Let yourself go baby. I'm not far behind. I want to feel you come around my cock, please” Dean Winchester of all men begging you to come? Christ, that pushed you over the edge with a scream of pleasure ripping from your lips.

His thrusts faltered slightly and through gritted teeth he asked “Don't you have an iud?” You nodded and he buried himself inside of you with one final thrust. The feeling of him coming worked another small orgasm out of you that had your legs shaking around him.

When he pulled out you whimpered slightly and he apologized with a light kiss “Just gonna grab my shirt to clean you up some baby ok?” You nodded weakly and felt the bed dip before Dean was knelt between your knees “Open up for me beautiful” you slowly spread your legs and he smiled “you look so fucking gorgeous like this. All fucked out” he used his shirt to clean you up as best as he could before tossing it back to the floor.

When he laid back down next to you he ran a finger down your side which caused you to squirm. “I'll go to my room once my legs work” He slipped his arm around you to pull you back against him “Take your time. No rush”

Every insecurity and what if started to flip through your head. Dean wasn't a settling down type. He didn't like attachments because he knew that put a target on them. He cared about you enough as a friend to put himself in danger. This wouldn't work. Either he'd not want this and feel some sort of obligation from your years of friendship or worse he would feel for you what you truly felt for him and it would end with him getting himself killed to keep you safe.

______________

It took some work to slip out the bed without waking him but you managed it and slipped your clothes on quickly. You needed a shower and to get the hell out of the bunker for a few minutes. You just needed to clear your head. It was supply run day. Groceries were needed and mail needed to be checked. You'd tell Sam to let you handle it. That would give you breathing room.

When you parked your car back at the bunker Sam came out to meet you and help with bags. When you glanced behind him he shrugged one shoulder “Can I ask something that may not only be none of my business but may be uncomfortable too?”

You nodded “We've known each other for a good chunk of our lives so I'd say yeah” he grimaced as he ran a hand across the back of his neck “I heard you and Dean last night so I thought…I don't know what I thought but did something happen? Because he seemed upset that you left while he was asleep”

“Sam, I didn't want to make things weird for Dean. You know my feelings” he nodded “but did you ask him his or just assume?” You didn't have to say anything Sam saw the look in your eyes. “He's in the library cleaning guns. I've got the bags”

________________

You could hear the clinking of metal when you got closer to the library. You stopped right inside the doorway and watched Dean for a moment. The way he handled the guns was a thing of beauty. He could probably break them down, clean them and put them back together in his sleep at this point.

He didn't look up from the colt before saying “You made it back in one piece” you nodded lamely “Dean can we talk?” He laid the colt down and raised his eyes to meet yours “Let me guess where this is going. You had a good night but don't want nothing to change”

You swallowed hard under the intensity of his stare “Can I talk without you putting words in my mouth?” He waved a hand to say go ahead “Dean you're my best friend and I love you, I fell in love with you. Last night was fucking amazing but I don't want to make you regrets things, you don't do love, you don't do relationships”

“because why? Dean's a man whore that just bed hops? Because Dean is incapable of love? Because despite us being best friends for over a decade there's no possibility that I fell in love with you too? There's no possibility i fucking wanted to wake up with the woman I love in my arms?” You flinched at his tone despite your heart flipping at his words “You love me?” He stood up and walked around the table “How could I not?”

You took a step back putting your back to the wall. He stood right in front of you, leaning a hand on the wall just over your head but giving you room to move “I love you Y/N. I'm in love with you. Last night was everything. Now what other demons are lurking in your head cause you know I don't mind taking on each and every one of those sons of bitches”

“What if you get hurt protecting me?” You asked and he smiled “baby I'd do that now but I know for the most part you can handle yourself and don't act like you're not self sacrificing either” you laughed despite yourself “What if you get bored of one woman?” He grinned “unlikely but we can always role play sweetheart. Believe me I mean it when I say you're fucking perfect for me”

“What if…” he cut you off by saying “What if you stop giving me excuses and let me kiss you? We could both die tomorrow and if that happens it happens but I'd rather have a day knowing you were completely my girl then live the rest of our lives just having part of you. I'm yours, you mine?” You nodded “Always. Now kiss me” He grinned “Yes ma'am”

[ohsc]

Imagine Sam with his daughter and she's dressing him up and doing his hair. You know those fairy wings you can wear, her forcing him to wear those and she's wearing a princess dress.

tysm for the request!! i’m a bit rusty so i feel like this kinda sucks and it ended up being much longer than intended lol but i’m loving this verse sm so much more to come :) | juno verse, single dad sam winchester x fem!reader, 1.5k, kid fic, fluff, not proof red, requests open only for juno fics

“Don’t laugh.” Were the first words out of his mouth when he opened the door and saw her stood there.

He had been trying to clean up the apartment when he knew that she was coming over after work — also in an attempt to starve off the giddiness, which hadn’t worked out either — when his daughter had attached herself to his leg and refused to let go until he played with her. Juno, he was convinced, had all of the stubbornness of a Winchester, and he’d rather just give in easily then peel her off of his leg and have a crying toddler and a messy apartment.

Y/N had been visiting more and more over the recent weeks, she had started to work herself into the little routine that he and Juno had been building, and it made him so soft. There hadn’t been somebody that he’d looked forward to seeing like that in a long time.

Her lips were curving upwards as she looked at him, lips pressed together in a clear attempt to not laugh at him. “…you look pretty.”

Juno’s recent game of choice had been dress up, which was honestly just a kinder way of saying she liked to hold him hostage and dress him up until she got bored. His hair was pulled into three pigtails, there were god knows how many butterfly clips up there, and he was pretty sure there were at least two stickers on his face somewhere.

“Thanks,” he rolled his eyes, stepping aside to let her into the apartment. He really tried not to stare as she stepped past, but she really was just so pretty. It would help if he didn’t have Dean in his ear whenever he called telling him that he clearly had a thing for waitresses. “My stylist got bored waiting for you, here.” Sam gently took her jacket from her and hung it up next to his own and Juno’s red coat on the hooks by the door.

“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not, you look great.” She giggled, a hand reached up with the intention of touching his hair, but the shout of her name from down the hall took both of their attention.

She crouched down just in time to open her arms to the toddler barrelling down the hall towards her, almost slipping on the material of her princess dress in the process which made Sam wince.

“Hey, sweetheart.” She caught Juno in her arms with a tight squeeze, somehow not knocked to the floor. Sam was so immeasurably soft whenever he got to watch her with his daughter, how much she was adored by Juno and how much she adored her back. It was the most important thing to him, that his daughter liked her. And she really did — more than him, he thought sometimes.

“Oh I missed you so much,” she squeezed his toddler once more before pulling back to look at her, smiling as she touched the puffy skirt of her dress. “Oh don’t you look so pretty, Junie? I love your dress.”

“It’s sleeping beauty’s dress,” Juno informed her, smile full of pink chubby cheeks as she soaked up the praise. “Daddy got it for me for my last birthday, when I was three.” She held up three fingers to show her, somehow covered in glitter that Sam could only dread to think was in his hair.

“Well it’s very pretty,” she beamed, gently smoothing over a few wrinkles in the dress. “Are you dressing up daddy to match?”

“No,” she shook her head, tone firm as if it was obvious. “He’s a fairy,” as if she suddenly just remembered what they’d been doing she frowned and let go of Y/N, clumsily stepping around her to grab at Sam’s hand and tugged with far too much strength for her little body. “Daddy, not done.”

Sam sighed, eyes down on her as she tugged on his arm as if she could pull him down the hallway herself. She had turned her big puppy eyes on, the ones he could never really say no to. “I know, Bug, why don’t you let me make Y/N a coffee and then—”

“No,” she whined, tugging harder. “Now.”

The clouds were forming for a tantrum, it had been that way all afternoon, it’s why he’d settled for letting her play dress up in the first place. She always got cranky after pre-school on Mondays. “Baby—”

“It’s okay,” a hand touched his arm and he turned to look at her. “I know where everything is, I can make one. I did interrupt play time.”

“Thanks,” he breathed, ever grateful for how amazing she was with Juno. If he didn’t know any better, he’d have assumed that she had kids of her own. “Really, I’ll make it up—”

“Daddy.” Juno was whining louder, tugging his arm again, and he just let out a breath as he leaned down to scoop her up onto his arms, settling her on his hip.

“Why are you acting up, hm?” Not really annoyed, he knew she couldn’t really help it, he reached his free hand up to tickle at her side until she giggled. Satisfied that he’d successfully worked around a tantrum he led Y/N down the hall with his daughter on his hip, though she already knew the place like the back of her hand. If he wasn’t so nervous he would’ve invited her to stay the night already.

He watched her disappear into the kitchen to make herself a drink before he took Juno back into the living room, and returned to his spot on the floor where he’d been held captive for the past twenty minutes. The floor was littered with hair clips and tiaras and plastic shoes which he’d clean up when she went to bed, but he didn’t really mind the mess if it meant she was happy.

“Daddy,” she was pulling at his hair again, stood on his thighs, only not falling off onto the carpet because of his hands on her sides. He watched her reach for another hair clip, a glittery yellow butterfly, and tried not to wince as he felt it’s teeth scrape against his scalp as she shoved it into place. “Can Y/N play too?”

Juno had been attached to her ever since they’d become friends. It was sweet, endearing really. Aside from himself and Dean, the only other adults she really got to see were her teachers at pre-school. Juno really adored her, clung to her every moment she could. She’d come with Sam to pick Juno up from school once and she’d practically screamed across the playground when she saw her.

“If she wants to, Junie,” he hummed, holding her steady as she leaned to the floor to grab something else. “She had a long day at work, she might be tired.”

“I still play after school.” Her nose scrunched up in a way that made him smile.

“Waitressing is a little different to school, baby. It’s not very fun.”

Juno hummed like she was thinking about it as she scrambled off of his lap to reach into her toy box. “Then she should get a new job,” she settled on, tugging out her pink fairy wings from the crate. “A fun one.”

Sam nodded a little, smiling softly as he murmured, “I agree.”

Little hands pulled at his arm, and he leaned forwards like she’d moved him herself. The elastic loops of the fairy wings were a little small for his shoulders, but he didn’t complain about the tightness of the band as he helped her get them on him, worth it to hear her giggle when it was all done.

“Those look great,” he looked up and watched as Y/N walked into the room, two mugs in her hands, one of which she placed down on the coffee table for him. “You did a really great job, Junie, now he really looks like a fairy.”

The way she was smiling at him was making his face heat up. Jesus, he needed to get a grip.

“Can you play?” Juno clambered off of Sam’s lap again to head over to her, grabbing some butterfly clips from the floor on her way. “Pretty please?”

“Baby, I’m sure she’s probably really tired—”

“It’s okay,” she waved him off with a fond little smile, before she looked back to Juno. “I’ll play if you make a deal with me, sweet girl.”

Juno nodded furiously like it was the most important thing in the world.

“If you promise me that you’ll eat your vegetables with dinner you can dress me up however you like, hm?”

Juno beamed and nodded, her little pinky clunkily hooking around the one that Y/N held up.

Sam met her eyes over Juno’s head, mouthing a thank you that earned him a smile in return. God, he was smitten.

[dulcescorderitas]

parings: sam winchester x reader

synopsis: part 2 of the quickie wedding

warnings: 18+, smut

you and sam had stumbled into the room just moments ago, your laughter breathless and half-drunk, still riding the high of the chapel's quick-and-dirty ceremony. dean was downstairs, still glued to the slot machines, probably making enemies or hitting on waitresses, but you didn’t care. not now. not when sam had just slid that simple gold band onto your finger and whispered, “you’re mine now, mrs. winchester.”

the room smelled faintly of cigarette smoke and bad decisions, but it didn’t matter. nothing mattered except sam.

the door was barely shut before he had you pressed against it, his massive hands bracketing your hips, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. his breath was hot against your ear, his low growl of a voice scraping like velvet sandpaper as he murmured, "y/n winchester... fuck, i like the way that sounds."

your knees went weak at the way he said it, his voice dripping with ownership, reverence, and something darker. he wasn't letting you go—not tonight, not ever—and the thought of it had your body igniting, every nerve ending alive and screaming. his lips found your neck, warm and rough and desperate, teeth scraping just enough to make you gasp, his stubble leaving a delicious burn in its wake. you felt his grin against your skin when he heard the sound, that cocky, boyish grin that always made you weak for him.

"you gonna let me unwrap my wedding gift now?" he muttered against your throat, his voice rasping low, wrecked and hungry. his hands were already moving, yanking the zipper of your dress down in one swift motion, the cheap satin pooling at your feet. you barely had time to kick off your heels before his hands were on you again, roaming over bare skin like he couldn't get enough, his thumbs brushing over the lace of your panties.

"goddamn, look at you," he breathed, pulling back just enough to let his hazel eyes rake over you. they were dark now, blown wide with lust, his pupils swallowing the green and gold. "my wife." he said it like it was the most sacred word he'd ever spoken, like he couldn't believe it was real. his hands slid down, gripping your ass and hauling you up like you weighed nothing, your legs wrapping instinctively around his waist.

your back hit the wall, and he was on you again, his mouth crashing into yours with a ferocity that stole your breath. his tongue swept past your lips, claiming you, tasting you, and you moaned into it, your fingers tangling in his hair. the kiss was messy, frantic, like he couldn't get close enough, couldn't devour enough of you to satisfy the gnawing need clawing at him.

"sam," you gasped when he finally pulled back, his lips swollen and red, a strand of spit connecting your mouths. you barely got the word out before he was moving, carrying you to the bed like a man possessed. he dropped you onto the mattress, and you barely had a second to catch your breath before he was on top of you, his massive frame caging you in.

"you don't know what you do to me," he muttered, his voice rough and raw as his hands slid up your thighs, spreading you open for him. his fingers hooked into the waistband of your panties, yanking them down with a low growl that sent a shiver through you. "laying there like that, all mine... fuck, y/n, you're gonna be the death of me."

"mhm," you moan back, making his grin turn wicked, his dimple flashing for just a second before he ducked his head. his mouth was on your chest, his tongue flicking over your nipple before he took it between his teeth, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to leave bruises. you arched into him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, and he groaned against your skin, the sound vibrating through you.

"you're so goddamn perfect," he murmured, his voice reverent but wrecked as he kissed his way down your body, his lips and tongue leaving a blazing trail in their wake. when he reached the apex of your thighs, he looked up at you, his eyes dark and smoldering, and the sheer hunger in his gaze made your breath hitch. "and you're mine. all mine."

"yours," you agreed, your voice trembling with need, and his grin turned feral before he ducked his head, his tongue licking a slow, deliberate stripe up your center. you cried out, your hands fisting in the sheets as he worked you over, his mouth worshiping you, his fingers digging into your thighs to keep you still.

"say it again," he growled against you, his voice muffled but commanding, and you didn't hesitate.

"yours, sam," you gasped, your back arching off the bed as he sucked your clit into his mouth, his tongue swirling around it in a way that had your vision going white. "i'm yours—only yours."

"that's right," he muttered, pulling back just long enough to look up at you, his lips glistening. "and i'm gonna make sure you never forget it."

he moved back up your body then, his lips crashing into yours, and you could taste yourself on him, the heady mix making your head spin. he lined himself up, his cock heavy and hot against your thigh, and you wrapped your legs around him, pulling him closer, needing him inside you.

"sam, please," you begged, and his grin was nothing short of sinful as he pushed into you, slow and deliberate, stretching you in a way that had you gasping his name. he stilled for a moment once he was fully seated, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath coming in harsh pants.

"goddamn, you feel good," he muttered, his voice wrecked, and then he started to move, his hips snapping against yours in a rhythm that was relentless and desperate and perfect. you clung to him, your nails digging into his back, and he groaned at the sting, his thrusts growing rougher, more erratic.

"that's it, baby," he growled, his voice low and gravelly. "take it all. take me. you're mine, mrs. winchester. all fucking mine."

you shattered at his words, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave, and he followed moments later, his body tensing as he spilled inside you, his groan low and guttural in your ear. he collapsed onto you, his weight heavy but comforting, and you wrapped your arms around him, holding him close as you both came down from the high.

"still with me, mrs. winchester?" he murmured after a moment, his voice soft and teasing, and you couldn't help but laugh, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back.

"always," you said, and he smiled against your skin, his lips brushing over your collarbone.

"good," he said, his voice already thick with sleep. "because i'm not letting you go."

taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis

[little-diable]

My Greatest Fear - Dean Winchester (smut)

Don't say I didn't warn y'all. Inspired by Benson Boone's new song "My Greatest Fear". Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean broke things off with the reader years ago, the biggest mistake of his life. But when Sam tells his brother that (y/n) is getting married, Dean knows it's time to make things right. He won't leave this life behind without being able to call her his once again.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, ex-lovers to lovers, some angst, lots of fluff tho, reader is a runaway bride

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Got a lot on my mind that keeps me up at night, I’m tossing and turning, thinking that my life’s gone to waste

“Thank you, sweetheart.” Dean shot the waitress a big smile as she placed his breakfast down, blushing as the handsome man winked at her. The older Winchester brother was too focused on his food to pick up on the uneasiness radiating off Sam, to focus on the sadness swimming in his brother’s pupils. 

“Fuck, that’s good.” Dean’s moans rumbled through him as he ate the greasy deliciousness, sipping on his coffee every now and then. It took him a while to lift his gaze, to allow his green eyes to focus on Sam’s untouched breakfast, forcing Dean’s eyebrows to furrow in confusion. “Not hungry? Shouldn’t you eat something after a long run?” 

“Mhm,” Sam’s eyes were focused on the window, unable to look at his brother any longer. His heart clenched in his chest, his mind was racing faster than it had in the past months, struggling to part his lips. 

“Sam,” Dean’s raspy voice forced Sam’s eyes back towards his older brother, unable to hold eye contact for long. “What’s wrong?” 

Dean had put down his breakfast burger while taking another sip of coffee. He patiently waited for Sam to speak, to spill whatever was visibly plaguing him. But Sam kept quiet, deeply inhaling as if he had to muster the strength to speak. Dean repeated his brother’s name, much quieter this time around, gentle almost – as if he had finally realised that whatever Sam was about to speak would hurt them both. 

“I received an email this morning.” It was a whisper, nothing more, words so obscurely simple that Dean couldn’t help but laugh. But Sam didn’t give in, killing Dean’s hope that Sam was simply fucking with him. Something heavy was about to claw through Sam, something heavy that could determine the outcome of this very day. “It was from Mary, (y/n)’s sister.”

Now it was on Dean to freeze, not expecting his brother to speak her name. Their eyes met, urging Sam to keep on speaking, to tell his brother about the email he had opened with shaky fingers, freezing in his step as he read the words she had written to him. 

“(Y/n)’s getting married, Dean.” Sam was forced to watch Dean sink back into the seat, arms crossed in front of his chest, uneasy eyes staring down at the table. And for a moment, neither of them spoke, letting the words sink in – words that had been Dean’s greatest fear ever since he had left her all these years ago. 

He had been stupid back then, too childish for his own good. Guided by his father’s words, he had dropped (y/n) and the life they could have lived together. His father had made pretty promises, telling his young son of women awaiting him, women he shouldn’t miss out on because of a marriage that would only tie him to (y/n), away from all the fun he could experience. The greatest mistake of his life, a mistake he hated himself for every single day. 

“That’s good for her. I’m happy she found somebody who treats her right.” The words pained Dean to speak, rolling off his tongue with a sharp edge that left Sam cringing. His hand found Dean’s forearm, gently squeezing his brother’s arm in a gesture so unfamiliar, Dean had to stop himself from shaking off Sam’s hand. 

“Dean, I’ve always loved her like a sister, I only want what’s best for her. But you’re my brother, I know how much not having her around scars you, I see it every day on your face. Get her back, try it at least.” 

Of all the things that I've been afraid to lose, my greatest fear of all is losing you

……

“I shouldn’t do this.” They were parked in front of the small church, eyes watching the big crowd of unfamiliar faces. Both Dean and Sam were wearing a suit, knowing that they had to blend in with the wedding guests to find their way to (y/n). “Why should she take me back? Why should she even listen to me?”

“Dean, if there is one thing I know it’s that she still loves you. Let’s get your girl back.” Sam was first to step out into the warm morning, eyes hidden behind a pair of sunglasses as they walked up to the crowd. He felt Dean close, not daring to speak up with his choked-up throat, with his heart pounding in his chest, knowing that this would be his only shot to make things right for once in his life. 

“Mary!” Sam’s voice echoed through the air, eyes focused on the frame of (y/n)’s sister. The young woman flung herself into Sam’s open arms, chuckling into his neck as he held her close for a moment. A moment too long for Dean who was growing more antsy with every passing second. 

“Thank you for coming. She’s making a mistake, Sam. You’re my only hope with this.” The words left Dean frozen, confused eyes flickering between his brother and Mary. He hadn’t read the email Mary had sent to Sam, hadn’t asked any further questions about the man (y/n) was about to marry, trusting that he was somebody she loved. “Come, I’ll bring you to her.”

“What the fuck man?” Dean growled the words at Sam as he followed them through the crowd and towards a small house built near the church. Sam fell into pace with his brother, watching Mary lead them towards the place where (y/n) was currently getting ready. 

“Well, you didn’t think I’d let you do this without knowing (y/n) would willingly leave her fiancé, did you? I wouldn’t destroy her happiness just like that, Dean.” Realistically, Dean should have known that Sam wouldn’t just push him into this without knowing that there was a chance to get her back. Sam had hated him for a while after he had left (y/n), punishing Dean for breaking her heart at any given chance, a broken bond that had needed months to be repaired. 

“(Y/n)? I brought two special guests.” Mary’s voice echoed through the small cabin, ringing in the brother’s ears as they waited outside. Dean felt his hands tremble, forced to let go of deep exhales as Mary opened the door for them, allowing them to step inside. His eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s like a moth to a flame, and his world stopped spinning, unable to focus on anything but her.

It took (y/n) a second to react, seemingly confused about the appearance of the two hunters she hadn’t seen in years. She was pulled into a hug by Sam, giving Dean another moment to admire her, the white dress she wore – a sight he had only seen in his dreams, imagining this very day, with him waiting at the altar for her. Dreams that had evaporated into a hazy nothingness the day he had left her. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” She sank into Dean’s grasp, clinging to him as if he hadn’t been the man who had broken her heart all these years ago. He watched his brother and Mary leave the cabin, giving the two some time alone as they kept on holding one another. 

“What are you doing here, Dean?” (Y/n) mumbled the words against the fabric of his suit jacket, not caring about smudging her make-up, not caring about anything but the way Dean held her close – as if he hadn’t ever stopped holding her. Carefully, Dean let her go, needing to give them some distance for the words he was about to speak, knowing that this could escalate any moment now. 

“I can’t let you marry another man without telling you that leaving you was my greatest mistake. A life without you has always been my biggest fear, I was stupid, so fucking stupid, sweetheart. I shouldn’t have listened to Dad, I should have married you right that day. And I hate myself for not doing it, for letting you go when you have always been my whole world. I know there is no chance for me to make things right, and even though Sammy and Mary hope that I will sweep you off of your feet and bring you back home to us, I know I can’t.” Tears dripped from her eyes, tears (y/n) didn’t care to wipe away. 

“I hated you for years, you broke me, Dean. You took away my life, my friends, the people I had grown to love. You ripped my heart right out of my chest, and even though I tried to fight for it, to regain its strength, I miserably failed. I should curse you, should tell you to fuck off and never show your face to me again. But I can’t. For Christ’s sake, Dean. What are we doing here?” He cupped her face with shaking fingers, letting his forest-green eyes run over her gorgeous face. 

“I want to kill him for getting a chance to love you, time that has been wasted because of me. But I don’t want to take another choice from you. If you want to marry him, I will watch from the first row, hell, I’ll even carry your veil.” His voice shook as he whispered the words, growing tense as (y/n) rested her hands on top of his, still cupping her cheeks.

“And if I don’t want to marry him?” 

……

I'm scared to take another picture of you, 'cause I'm scared to have another thing that I can lose, oh, dear, who am I without you here?

“I thought you were taking me home, where are we going?” Her laughter echoed through Baby, eyes set on Dean’s grinning features. They had left the church a while ago, running away like she had secretly hoped they would. (Y/n) had always been a dreamer, a dreamer who had pictured that very moment since the day it had dawned on her – about to marry a man she didn’t love. A man who wasn’t Dean Winchester. 

“We’ve got another thing to take care of first, I am not losing any more time.” Baby screeched to a halt in front of a pink church, a sight that left (y/n) confused, and Dean and Sam chuckling. They made their way into the church, with her fingers interlaced with Dean’s, with her white wedding gown clinging to her frame, with his suit hugging his frame. 

“Dean, Sam, I didn’t think I’d ever get to see you two around here!” An elderly man greeted them with a big smile. His brown eyes were drawn to (y/n)’s almost instantly, with a knowing smile growing on his lips – a smile that had an almost proud touch to it. “That’s her, huh? Took you quite some time, didn’t it.” “(Y/n), that’s Danny, an old friend of ours we met on a hunt. He could wed us, with Sammy as our witness, if you’ll have me.” Her heart had stopped beating, skipping a few beats as Dean’s words sank in. Her teary eyes found his and with a laugh clawing through her, she pressed a kiss to his lips, drawing a groan out of Dean, who tried to prolong the kiss for as long as possible. 

“I will always have you, Dean.” She was pulled towards the altar, unable to stop her tears from dripping as Danny began speaking a prayer she paid no attention to. All (y/n) could do was study Dean, the love swimming in his pupils, the way he looked at her as if she was his sun, alighting the darkest days with her mere presence. A soul crafted for his to hold onto, to love till their time together would eventually run out. 

“Do you have any rings?” Danny’s soft voice ripped (y/n) out of her thoughts, about to whisper a soft, disappointed “No”, but before she could even part her lips, Sam excitedly spoke up. Her eyes watched the tall Winchester brother, how he reached for his breast pocket to expose a small envelope to her glassy eyes. Wordlessly he pushed it towards Dean, who opened it with an unwavering smile stuck to his lips. 

“I bought these rings years ago, sure to eventually push yours down on your finger. I am sorry it took me this long.” Her sob left Dean chuckling, exposing his also teary eyes to hers. She had held onto all these longings for years, mere dreams that were now finally turning real – as if she was just sleeping through another longing. 

But, you're here, now, and that makes it better, somehow

……

“Let me.” Dean’s soft voice filled his bedroom. He was standing behind (y/n), carefully helping her out of her wedding dress with his gaze focused on the ring clinging to his finger. The past hours had flown by all too quickly, turning her from a runaway bride into his wife. His wife. A title so unfamiliar, Dean had to fight against the urge to pinch himself.

His for eternity. His to love. His to worship. 

“I love you, Dean.” (Y/n) whispered her words as she stepped out of her dress, exposing her underwear-clad frame to his hungry eyes. She was pulled into a teeth-chasing kiss, a kiss dripping with emotions that made her feel all too dizzy, having to hold onto Dean before she could be ripped into another dimension. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. And I’m so fucking sorry for missing out on this for years.” He pressed her down on the mattress, giving her a show as he slowly undressed. Her body was aching for him, needing to feel Dean close after all these long years apart. 

“Stop apologising with words and show me that you truly mean them.” His lips kissed her chest, the valley between her breasts as he undid her bra, exposing her hardening nipples to his twinkling eyes. Dean could cum just from the sight of her naked frame, a sight he had only seen in his dreams for the past years, not daring to imagine being this fortunate again. 

“God, you’re so beautiful. I promise to worship you for as long as you want me to.” Dean’s raspy words vibrated on her skin, covering her body with goosebumps as he kneaded her soft flesh. His cock was pressed against her clothed heat, drawing moans from her whenever he moved against her heat, desperate for the kind of friction that left them both trembling.

“I need you inside of me, Dean.” Her raspy whispers left him groaning against her skin as she raised her hips to help him pull her damp panties down her legs. Just this morning, (y/n) had imagined this very moment, knowing that she’d think of Dean when her husband touched her, a loveless marriage she would have been trapped in. 

“Are you still on birth control?” (Y/n) could only nod her head, mind taken up by the feeling of his wandering hands, keeping her pressed against him. Dean's cock twitched against her naked cunt, brushing through her arousal-covered folds to coat himself, “I love you, and I’ll do my best to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”

“I love you too, Dean.” He pushed into her with a groan, forehead falling against hers as she fluttered around him. It felt as if he had entered paradise, falling to rest on clouds covering his body. She was his Elysium, his safe haven, the one where Dean could be the truest version of himself. 

He moved slowly at first, both needed some time to adjust to one another after all these years, but the second their bodies relaxed, properly enjoying one another’s closeness, Dean began to move faster. Their bodies met with every thrust, eyes holding a contact so intense, (y/n) feared her heart would explode right in her chest. 

Dean was taking his time with her, this wasn’t a rushed fuck to make up for all the time lost, no, it was so much more. This was the purest form of love, a one-of-a-kind love both had clung to in lonely nights, with wandering minds and trembling hands. This is what they had been destined to have, years ago – a love they were now rediscovering. 

“You feel so good, baby.” He felt her clenching around his cock, drawing another gritty sound out of Dean. (Y/n) was long gone, pushed into another dimension where she only knew Dean, nothing but his love, his touch, his irrevocable longing for her. Sensations she was taken hostage by, unable to shake them. 

His warm fingertips found her pulsing bundle, circling it with just enough pressure to draw his name out of her. (Y/n) could feel her orgasm slithering its way up her body, whispering to her to hold onto her husband, and with her fingernails clawed into Dean’s shoulders, she came. He followed her right down the edge, moaning against her lips as their bodies were moulded together. 

“Fuck, we’ll have to do that all through the night, husband.” (Y/n) whispered the words as a few heavy pants left her, making a laugh claw out of Dean who chased her slightly swollen lips for another kiss. 

“Trust me, I won’t let you leave our bed for weeks, wife.” 

Don't know how the broken pieces fit together if you leave it, so, don't go, don't go, I would take your hand if I could reach it

[xoxoavenger]

Heat of the Moment

pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

summary: Sam's stuck in a time loop, watching not only Dean die but also Y/N's reaction to it. Every. Single. Day. (Mystery Spot Rewrite)

word count: 11227 (this took literally almost 6 hours just to write I thought it could be done for Groundhog Day but holy fuck)

warnings: major character death (lol), cannon typical gore, time loop, not proofread bc I finished this four hours before I have to wake up

main masterlist

//

Day 1

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

"Got your gun?" Y/N asks when they're about to walk through the door. Dean makes a face and turns right back around, digging through his bag.

"He'd forget his head if you weren't here." Sam says under his breath, but Dean still hears it. He grabs one of Y/N's bras and holds it up, causing her eyes to widen.

"I think Sammy accidentally put his clothes in our bag, sweetheart." He smiles at the two of them, who are both giving him bitch faces for different reasons. "Ha!" He laughs, grabbing his gun and dropping the bra.

"Let's go, douchebag." Y/N rolls her eyes as she lets him go through the door first, smacking his ass and grinning as he flinches.

"I wasn't kidding earlier. I will kill myself." Sam threatens, but when Y/N looks up he has a small smile on his face.

"Go get breakfast, you mammoth-man." She tells him as she locks the door. He smiles, turning to follow his brother. Y/N isn't far behind, jogging to catch up to Dean and grab his hand.

They walk into the diner, sitting in a small booth that they barely fit in but Dean insists (they all know it's so he can sit as close as possible to Y/N).

"Why do you have to make up an excuse? You share a bed with her because she's your goddamn girlfriend. I think you can handle sitting two feet away at the breakfast bar." Sam argues.

"You're on the other side anyway, Sam. You don't have to complain." She tells him as she looks up at the menu. Sam rolls his eyes, and Y/N takes a deep breath. She loves the brothers, she really does, but they drive her crazy sometimes.

"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke." Dean gestures up at the menu. Y/N furrows her brows, trying to get more information.

"Do you even know what that is?" Sam asks, and Dean doesn't have a good answer to this. Luckily, their waitress comes up to greet them, and Y/N smiles up at her.

"Are you three ready?" She asks with a smile. She's an older lady, with dark, short hair curled in an oldies style to match the bright yellow uniform.

"Yes! I'll have the special, a side of bacon, and a coffee." Dean orders, then turns to Y/N.

"Can I order lunch for breakfast?" Y/N asks, and the waitress sighs.

"I would let ya, but our kitchen isn't set up for it." She says it kindly, and Y/N nods.

"I'll just have coffee, then." The waitress jots it down, and they turn to Sam, who orders his coffee and pancakes. "You got it." The waitress says, and leaves them be. While the boys start to argue about Bela, Y/N looks around the diner. It seems like just a normal, old-fashioned diner, but something in her gut is telling her that this place isn't what it seems.

"Where the laws of physics have no meaning?" Dean asks, reading off the pamphlet Sam handed over. Y/N focuses back in, seeing 'Mystery Spot' on the front.

"This town has a mystery spot?" Y/N asks, grabbing the pamphlet from Dean. Sam shrugs, the boys looking up as the waitress comes back with their coffees. She spills the hot sauce, which ends up getting on Dean because of how far out in the booth he is. Sam can't help his small smile, and Y/N can already feel a headache coming on from this day.

After breakfast, the three walk through town, Y/N looking at the Mystery Spot pamphlet.

"Sweetheart, you're wasting your time. Places like this are just tourist traps." Dean says, gently grabbing the pamphlet from her hands. She frowns, snatching it back.

"There are plenty of places in the world that have strange occurrences that aren't tourist traps." She argues, looking over at Sam for some help.

"There's the Bermuda Triangle, The Oregon Vortex. This could be one of them." Sam defends, and Dean rolls his eyes.

"The Broward County Mystery Spot?" He asks as if it's the stupidest suggestion he's ever heard of.

"It could be? How would you know if you haven't even gone there?" Y/N asks, and Dean takes the pamphlet once more.

"Alright, let's say I believe this. What's the lore?" He's looking down at the pamphlet, and Y/N's looking over at Sam, so neither of them see the blonde who walks right into Dean.

"Excuse me." She says, but Y/N's already turning around. She's used to people hitting on Dean - she's not blind, of course she knows her boyfriend is attractive. But it doesn't make her happy, and usually Dean doesn't do much to stop it before it's too late.

"Hey!" She yells, but Dean's grabbing her arm before she can march over to the blonde chick and ask if she was born yesterday, because she clearly doesn't know how to walk.

"Come on," Dean says quietly, which enrages Y/N even more.

"Seriously?" She asks, talking her hand from Dean's arm. They all start walking again, Sam looking ahead to make sure no one is about to witness the nuclear fight that's about to occur.

"Sweetheart, she ran into me on accident. We don't need to start a fight over that." Dean tries to calm her down, but Y/N isn't having it.

"That's the thing, Dean. You never even stop it. I'm always the one that has to say something." Y/N isn't even sure why they're having this fight right here, right now, but she doesn't want to have to keep it in anymore.

"Does it really matter? You and I both know that I'm yours. I thought you trusted me enough to know I wouldn't just do that." Dean seems actually hurt, which makes Y/N even more mad.

"You clearly don't understand." She huffs, fighting the urge to walk ahead of the bothers. Instead, she looks over the Sam. "So, what's the lore?" She asks, as if they didn't just have a fight.

"Uh," Sam scrambles to recover. "They say these places can bend space and time, sending victims anywhere, or when, I guess."

"That sounds like X-Files." Dean grumbles, clearly still not over the fight. Y/N rolls her eyes.

"Our life is basically X-Files." She argues as they walk past two guys struggling to get a piano through a door. They all stare for a moment, then get back to the conversation.

"Alright, look. I'm not saying that's what's really happening. But if it is, we gotta check it out, see if we can do something." Sam tells them, and Y/N nods.

"Alright, alright. We'll go tonight, after they close, get ourselves a nice, long look." Dean agrees, and Y/N nods.

"Great, see you tonight then." She makes to turn left when the brothers turn right to go back to the hotel.

"Where are you goin'?" Dean asks, pausing just before he crosses the street.

"I need some space. I'll meet you there an hour after close, promise." She says, then walks away. Sam turns to Dean, who's frowning as he watches his girlfriend walk away.

"Dude, you've got to learn how to apologize." Sam says with a sigh, starting to cross the street.

"Shut up!"

~

Y/N's waiting at the Mystery Spot an hour after close, like she promised. The boys nod to her, and Dean hands her a flashlight before they walk in. There's tons of wacky rooms, but they don't find anything interesting.

"Wow. Uncanny." Dean says after they walk through a green and black spiral hallway and into a room with furniture on the ceiling. Sam's scanning for EMF, and Y/N's looking around for anything other than these random attractions that only give her the spooks because of the dark.

"Find anything?" She asks Sam.

"No." The younger brother answers. She keeps looking around, but she has no idea what the hell they're even trying to find in this place. She's crouched down, looking underneath things just to satisfy Sam at this point.

"Do you have any idea what you're looking for?" Dean asks, seemingly giving up even pretending to check the attractions.

"Uh, yeah." Sam says unconvincingly.

"Don't lie, Sammy." Y/N sighs as she stands, looking over at the boys.

"No, I don't." Sam amends, and Dean shakes his head. The two haven't talked since that morning, when they fought, but Y/N knows that by tonight it'll all be find. They just needed some time.

"What the hell are you doing here?" A man rasps quickly from behind them. Y/N gasps as her heart tries to escape her throat, the two boys pulling their guns quickly. She reaches into her waistband before she remembers that she left her's at the hotel that mooring, thinking she was going to go back. Shit.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. We can explain." Dean says, seeing the man has a gun. He looks over at Y/N, who pulls her lips in when he realizes she doesn't have a gun.

"You robbing me?" The man asks, swinging his gun to Sam.

"Nobody's robbing you," Y/N tries, the gun swinging to her.

"Calm down!" Dean shouts, trying to get the gun back on him. He has his hands up, and Y/N can tell he's a little more worried because she doesn't have her gun. God, she's so stupid.

"Don't move. Don't move!" The man yells, but Dean continues to move, keeping the gun on him.

"I'm just putting the gun down." Dean explains, but the man is firing the gun, and Y/N screams as she watches the bullet hit Dean's chest. He falls backward, and she rushes to him and drops to her knees, forgetting all about the gun.

"Dean!" She shrieks, picking his torso off the ground and putting it in her lap. He's struggling to breathe, his eyes not even seeing her.

"Call 9-1-1!" Sam tells the man, rushing to Dean's other side.

"I-I didn't mean to-"

"Do it!" Y/N screams at the same time Sam yells "Now!"

"Hey," Sam says to Dean as he starts to choke on his own blood. Y/N knows that there's nothing they can do, that the bullet clearly went through his lungs and now Dean's last moments on this earth are going to be full of pain. He doesn't deserve this.

"Dean, hey," She whispers, watching his eyes finally meet hers. "No, you can't do this, come on, we never had makeup sex." She's trying to joke, trying to make his last minutes bareable, but even though he smiles slightly she can see the panic flooding his eyes. As the light leaves them, and Y/N's tears start to fall, she realizes that she's going to go to Hell to get him back, because their story can't end that way.

"Y/N," Sam whispers, causing her eyes to flick to his.

"This can't be happening." She says, so soft and yet so full of pain that Sam's heart breaks into a million little pieces.

Day 2

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

Sam looks a little lost as he walks in, staring between Dean and Y/N like he thinks they may be monsters.

"Are you okay, Sam?" Y/N asks as she leans on the doorframe, watching her boyfriend gargle water like a toddler.

"I don't know." Sam says as Dean spits out his water. The couple makes eye contact, confused by this answer. "Man, I had a weird dream." Sam finally settles on, and Y/N nods as she goes back to their bag to finish packing.

"Don't forget your gun!" Y/N calls before Dean can walk out the door.

"Dean doesn't usually forget his gun." Sam mutters, and Y/N turns to the younger brother.

"Are you sure you're alright, Sammy?" Y/N asks as Dean digs through their bag.

"Are you bringing your gun?" Sam dodges the question, and Y/N furrows her brows.

"I never bring my gun to breakfast." She says, watching Sam's face for a few seconds until Dean walks through the door.

"Come on, sweetheart. Sammy, you lock up." Dean says as he grabs Y/N's hand. She tosses the keys to Sam, who turns toward the door.

They walk into the diner, choosing a booth. Y/N looks up at the menu, wondering if they'll let her order lunch for breakfast.

"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke." Dean gestures up at the menu. Y/N furrows her brows, trying to get more information.

"It's Tuesday?" Sam asks, and Y/N turns to look at him.

"Yeah." Dean nods, his forehead slightly crinkled as Sam looks a little worried.

"Are you three ready?" The waitress comes up and asks with a smile. Y/N smiles back at her.

"Yes! I'll have the special, a side of bacon, and a coffee." Dean orders, then turns to Y/N.

"Can I order lunch for breakfast?" Y/N asks, and the waitress sighs.

"I would let ya, but our kitchen isn't set up for it." She says it kindly, and Y/N nods.

"I'll just have coffee, then." Y/N smiles, and they all turn to Sam.

"Uh, nothing for me. Thanks." Sam says, causing Y/N to furrow her brows.

"Let me know if you change your mind." The waitress says, and leaves them be. While the boys start to argue about Bela, Y/N looks around the diner. It seems like just a normal, old-fashioned diner, but something in her gut is telling her that this place isn't what it seems.

"Hey!" Dean snaps his fingers, and Y/N turns to see that he's snapping them at his brother, who seems to still be out of it. "You with me?"

"What?" Sam asks, and Y/N feels like something is off. Clearly, Sam isn't fine.

"Are you sure you feel okay?" Dean asks, leaning forward.

"You don't... You guys don't remember any of this?" He asks the two of them. Y/N and Dean look at each other, then back at Sam.

"Remember what?" Dean questions, and Y/N can't help but let her mouth hang slightly open, because she thinks Sam may have lost a couple marbles.

"This. Today. Like - like it's - like it's happened before?" He clarifies, which really only serves to make things muddier.

"Are you talking about déjà vu?" Y/N asks, hoping Sam just didn't get a good night of sleep.

"No. I mean like it's - like it's really happened before." Sam seems very intent on this, and Y/N just stares.

"Yeah, like déjà vu." Dean says with a nod.

"No, forget about déjà vu! I'm asking you if it feels like-like we're living yesterday all over again." Sam looks very agitated now, and Y/N looks at Dean, who she knows is about to talk about déjà vu again.

"Maybe you just need some sleep, Sam." Y/N suggests. Sam looks at her, as if remembering something, but before she can ask the waitress come back over with their coffees. The hot sauce teeters off the edge of the platter, but Sam catches it. Y/N blinks as this happens, but Dean smiles.

"Nice reflexes." He compliments, but Sam is staring at Y/N.

"What?" She asks, but he shakes his head. They eat the rest of their meal in peace, as if Sam hadn't fully admitted to being crazy, before they take a walk outside.

"Are you guys sure that today is Tuesday?" Sam asks, and Y/N takes a deep breath as they pass a barking dog.

"Sam, what the hell are you on about?" She asks, watching him look around as if everything was out to get him.

"Okay, look. Yesterday was Tuesday, right?" He asks, and Y/N and Dean both look at each other once more (Y/N's lost count of how many 'your brother is crazy' looks she's given him). "But today is Tuesday, too." He sounds out of his mind, and Y/N is genuinely starting to get worried.

"Yeah, no. Good. You're totally balanced." Dean says.

"So you don't don't believe me?" Sam practically yells. They both turn to him, missing a blonde lady come out of nowhere and run into Dean.

"Excuse me." She says, but Y/N's already turning around.

"He-" She barely makes a sound before Sam's hand covers her mouth, turning her around and getting them to start walking again. "What the hell?" She asks, pushing Sam off.

"Look, I'm just saying that it's crazy, you know?" Dean gets back on track, briefly distracting Y/N from the fight she was about to start. "Even-for-us crazy. Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy." Dean says.

"Dingo at my baby?" Y/N repeats, looking over to Dean. "Maybe it was a premonition?" She offers before getting too off track.

"No. No way. Way too vivid." Sam shakes his head. "We were at the Mystery Spot, and then," But he trails off.

"And then what?" Dean asks, but Sam looks down at Y/N.

"Then I woke up." He says as they walk by two men arguing about a piano, but Y/N knows he's not telling the full truth. "Wait a minute! The mastery spot. You think maybe it," He trails off again, and Y/N wants to shake him.

"Maybe what?" Dean asks.

"We gotta check that place out." Sam says, but Dean does't seem convinced. "Just go with me on this." Sam begs.

"Alright, alright. We'll go tonight, after they close, get ourselves a nice, long look." Dean agrees, and Y/N nods.

"Wait, what?" Sam stops them, and Y/N turns on the sidewalk to face them. "No." He says, as if it's a terrible idea.

"Why not? You suggested it." Y/N argues.

"Uh," Sam looks at Y/N, as if for help, but she has no idea what he needs. "Let's just go now. Right now. Business hours. Nice and crowded." He says instead, and Y/N blinks.

"My God, you're a freak." Dean says, and Y/N drops her jaw to try to stop from laughing, hitting Dean's arm.

"Dean!" She says, looking at Sam's bitch face.

"Okay! Whatever. We'll go now." He agrees, walking past Y/N and Sam.

"Y/N," Sam keeps her from following Dean so close, the two of them walking a bit behind him as he steps into the road.

"What? Are you sure you're okay?" Y/N asks once more, but Sam doesn't answer but a car speeds through the stop sign and hits Dean, who was only a few feet in front of them. Y/N watches his body go flying before landing face down.

"Dean!" Sam yells, and the two of them race over to his body. "No, no, no." He begs as Y/N flips his body over, holding his bloody face in her hands. He's struggling to breathe, but only for a couple moments before he's not breathing anymore.

"Dean?" Y/N whispers, shaking him slightly. "Dean!" She screams, tears starting to fall down her face.

"Y/N," Sam looks over at her with an unreadable expression, but she doesn't care because Dean is dead.

"This can't be happening." She says, and Sam's eyes widen.

Day 3

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

"I'm in a time loop." Sam says quietly, not getting out of bed. Y/N pauses, looking over to him.

"What?" She asks, but Sam glares at her.

"This has happened before. This all has happened before." He gets up, and Y/N nods slowly.

"Alright. Why don't we go get some breakfast, and you can tell us about it then." She suggests, which seems to calm him down a little bit.

Y/N reminds Dean to grab his gun, not grabbing hers, and then they're off the breakfast.

"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke." Dean gestures up at the menu. Y/N furrows her brows, trying to get more information.

"Would you listen to me, Dean? Cause I am flipping out." Sam says lowly, and Y/N and Dean look at each other before looking back at Sam.

"Are you three ready?" The waitress comes up and asks with a smile. Y/N smiles back at her.

"He'll take the special, side of bacon, and they both want coffee. Nothing for me, thanks." Sam says quickly. Y/N's eyes widen.

"You got it." The waitress turns and leaves, and Y/N looks over at Sam.

"I wanted lunch." She complains with a small pout, but Sam doesn't seem to care.

"They don't do lunch this early, the kitchen isn't set up yet." He's still speaking fast, and it's starting to upset Y/N.

"You don't know that." She argues, and Sam finally looks her dead in the eye.

"Yes, I do. That's what I've been trying to tell you guys. I'm stuck in a time loop." Sam insists, and Y/N nods.

"Like Groundhog Day." Dean suggests, as if this is crazy.

"Yes. Exactly like Groundhog Day." Sam seems happy with this, and Y/N knows that her boyfriend does not believe him at all.

"Uh-huh." Dean's almost smiling, and she sighs.

"So you don't believe me." Sam says, as if it's the most believable thing in the world. Dean laughs at this.

"It's - It's a little crazy. Even-for-us crazy. Ya know like, uh,"

"Dingo-ate-my-baby crazy?" Sam finishes the sentence, and Y/N's eyes widen.

"How'd you know I was gonna say that?" Dean asks, as if Sam hasn't been explaining it the whole time.

"Because you've said it before, Dean. That's my whole point." Sam says, and Y/N's starting think that maybe Sam's not crazy. The waitress come back over with their coffees. The hot sauce teeters off the edge of the platter, but Sam catches it. Y/N blinks as this happens, but Dean smiles.

"Nice reflexes." He says, but Sam looks like a kicked puppy because Dean doesn't believe him.

"No. I know it was gonna happen." Sam argues. Y/N sighs as she takes a sip of her coffee before putting it down.

"I'm not saying we don't believe you, Sam, but I'm sure there's some sort of explanation for this." Y/N says, and Sam's eyes snap to her.

"I'm sure there is." He says cooly, and Y/N flinches back.

"I haven't done anything yet. This is the first Tuesday I've lived through this week, sorry." She says, rolling her eyes at Sam's attitude.

"Alright, everyone calm down." Dean suggests and this fires both Y/N and Sam up.

"Don't tell me to calm down! I can't calm down because," Sam stops, and he looks between Y/N and Dean.

"Because what?" Dean asks, waiting for the answer.

"Because you die today, Dean." Sam says, and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.

"I'm not gonna die. Not today." Dean says, as if this is an idiotic thing to say and Sam is just trying to get a rise out of him.

"Twice now, we've watched you die." Sam says, looping Y/N in on this even though she hasn't been going through the time loop with him. "And I can't. I won't do it again, okay?" Sam's voice is low, and Dean sits back at this. He can tell his brother is serious. Sam looks over at Y/N, who's staring back at him. "You're just gonna have to believe me. Please."

"Alright. I think still think you're nuts, but," He nods a couple times. "Okay. Whatever this is, we'll figure it out." Dean promises, just as his food comes to the table.

After breakfast, they take a walk outside, back to the hotel. Sam pushes his way to be on Y/N's left, even though Dean's always on the left, but she lets him. A girl bumps into him, and Y/N turns to eye her before continuing walking. They're talking about the Mystery Spot, about why Sam thinks it's the root of the entire problem. The brothers are fighting, and Y/N is tired of it.

"Alright! Let's just go tonight after they close." She says, but clearly this was not the right thing to say.

"No, no, no, no!" Sam says, looking at her like she's crazy. "We can't." They're standing on the sidewalk now, Y/N turned to face the other two.

"Why not?" Dean asks, and Sam takes a deep breath.

"Because you," He starts, and Y/N realizes immediately what Sam is trying to say.

"I what?" Dean asks, and Y/N rolls her eyes.

"You die there." She says, causing Sam to scowl at her. She squints instead of asking what his problem is, because clearly he has a lot.

"Okay then, let's go now." Dean says, walking off the sidewalk and onto the street. Sam knocks Y/N over as he grabs Dean, stopping him from being hit by a car that's blowing through a stop sign. Y/N's elbow is bleeding, but otherwise she thinks she's fine, and Dean is fine too.

"What the hell?" She grumbles as she stands, going over to Dean and Sam.

"Did it look cool, like in the movies?" Dean asks, and Y/N rolls her eyes and she holds her elbow.

"You peed yourself." Sam says, and she starts laughing.

"Of course I peed myself. A man gets hit by a car, you think he has full control over his bladder? Come on!" Dean asks, before looking at Y/N. "You alright, sweetheart?" He asks, and Y/N nods even though she can feel the blood staining the long sleeve she has on.

"What the hell was that, Sam?" She asks, turning to him.

"I was saving Dean." Sam argues, mood soured even more.

"You didn't have to push me to the ground!" She argues, and Dean snaps his head to her.

"Why are you pushing her, man?" He asks, stepping closer to Sam.

"Let's just go." Sam mutters, knowing he won't win this. "Don't forget your gun this time, Y/N." Sam calls as he crosses the street. Y/N turns to Dean, who grabs her hand and crosses the street with her.

"I don't know what he's on about, I never forget my gun."

~

"I hate to say it, but that place is exactly what I thought - it's full of crap." Dean says as they walk the same walk they had been in the morning. It's dark now, and they had spent the day at the Mystery Spot trying to figure something out. They had gotten absolutely nowhere, which doesn't bode well for Sam.

"So what is it, then, Dean?" Sam is clearly freaking out, and Y/N is exhausted of all this. "What the hell is happening to us?"

"I don't know." Dean says lowly, and Y/N knows he's exhausted of this too. "Alright, let me just - so, every day I die." Dean states. Y/N has half a mind of just continuing on to the hotel.

"Yeah," Sam confirms.

"That's when you wake up again, right?" Dean asks, and Sam looks over at Y/N. She has no clue why he keeps doing this, but it's driving her crazy.

"Yeah," He says finally.

"So, let's just make sure I don't die." Dean says, as if it's obvious. "If I make it to tomorrow, then maybe the loop stops and we can figure all this out."

"Great, I love this plan. Can we go to bed now?" Y/N asks, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him along.

"Let's get some take out. Who want's Chinese?" The words are barely out of his mouth with a rope snaps, and Y/N turns to see Dean's body flattened underneath a piano. Blood is everywhere, and his head has been decapitated. She's so shocked, she can't do anything but stare.

"Y/N, wait!" Sam calls, and she looks up at him.

"This can't be happening." She whispers, and Sam lets out a yell as everything goes black.

Day 4

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

"What the hell are you doing?" Sam yells, and Y/N's eyes widen as Sam crowds her.

"Sam!" Dean shouts, but Sam doesn't care about whatever threats his brother his about to make.

"I know it's you. I know you're doing this. And I get it, okay. I don't like it either. But if I have to listen to that song one more goddamn time!" Sam is in Y/N's face, and she looks terrified.

"What are you talking about?" She asks, and Sam rolls his eyes.

"Don't play dumb! I know you're behind the time loop! Look, we can stop Dean from dying, but you have to work with me and stop doing this!" Sam begs, and Dean finally pulls Sam back.

"What the hell are you on about, man?" Dean asks, getting between Sam and Y/N.

"I am stuck in a time loop where you die every day and Y/N is causing it!" Sam accuses, and the two of them stare at him as if he's crazy.

"How!" Y/N shrieks, coming out from behind Dean's back. "How would I even be doing that?"

"I," Sam pauses, because he actually hadn't thought that far. "I don't know. But every time Dean dies, you say the same thing." He says, and Y/N takes a deep breath.

"Great. Good deduction work, Sam." She says, and now he's starting to doubt himself. But if it isn't Y/N, and it isn't the Mystery Spot, then what is it? "I'm going to get some food." She tells the two of them, walking out the door.

"Don't forget your gun." Sam says weakly, and she turns sharply to him.

"I never bring my gun to breakfast." She grumbles, making a point not to grab it before walking out the door.

"What the hell is your problem?" Dean asks, more angry than Sam's seen him in awhile.

"I have watched you die over and over, Dean." Sam says, but Dean is still pissed off.

"That doesn't mean you go after my girlfriend, bitch." Dean says, leaving the room without grabbing his gun.

Sam wishes he was surprised when Y/N comes running into the room, tears streaming down her face as she tells Sam that Dean choked on his breakfast.

"This can't be happening." Y/N whispers through her tears, and Sam just lays back in his bed, thinking you have no idea.

Day 5

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

"No going out today!" Sam says, making everyone pause. Dean turns the music off, then looks at his brother.

"Alright, I know you've been pretty upset lately, but,"

"I'm trapped in a time loop." He says quickly. "No, it's not déjà vu. No, I'm not going crazy. You die every day. We can't go get breakfast because you'll choke on your food. We can't check out the Mystery Spot after hours, because you get shot. We can't go during the day, because you get hit by a car. And even if we narrowly avoid those two fates, a piano crushes and decorates you. So you are gonna sit in this hotel room, and we are going to get to tomorrow." Sam tells Dean, then finally looks at Y/N. They're both looking at him like he's crazy.

"I'm taking a shower." Dean says simply, getting up and looking at Y/N. "Can you please un-crazy him?" He asks, before shutting the door to the bathroom and turning the water on.

"Are you on drugs?" Y/N asks, because it's the only thing she can think of. Sam sighs, shaking his head.

"I know how it sounds, okay. But I swear, it doesn't matter what we do, Dean ends up dying and the day restarts. It's an endless stream of Tuesdays." He puts his head in his hands, and Y/N frowns.

"Well, something had to of caused it. Do you know what it is?" Y/N asks, sitting on the bed next to him. She's not sure she fully believes him, but they also hunt demons and monsters for a living and her boyfriend has a death sentence that ends in hell which saved Sam's life, so she can't say he's completely crazy.

"At first, I thought it was you, somehow. But yesterday I called you out and realized that it wasn't." Sam admits, and Y/N narrows her eyes.

"Why would you think I had something to do with this?" She asks, a little hurt.

"Because Dean kept dying and you always say the same thing after he dies. I thought you somehow made a deal or something to try and get him back, but for some reason this is the day he dies." Sam says the words with pain lacing his voice, because he doesn't want to give up trying to save Dean's life. As much as he hates watching Dean die over and over again, he'll go through it if the end means he'd save Dean's life.

"Ahh!" They hear Dean's yell from the bathroom, along with a loud thud. Y/N's eyes widen, and she looks over to Sam. He thinks they're going to go look at the body, that she'll want to confirm that Dean's really dead, but instead she grabs his arm, hand shaking in terror.

"This can't be happening." She says, and Sam's mouth drops open just as the world goes black.

Day 6

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

"Let's order in breakfast." Sam suggests on a whim, hoping to keep Dean inside without setting him off. He has no idea what causes the deaths, or why they happen at different times, but he can't figure it out if Dean keeps dying at the beginning of each day.

"There's a good diner down the road, why don't we just go there?" Y/N asks as she zips her bag, turning to the boys.

"I just really want tacos." Sam lies, and it's a stupid lie but he needs them to stay in.

"I could go for tacos." Dean shrugs, and Y/N sighs, knowing she's lost this battle. They drive to the drive-thru (because Sam insists he cannot go inside and doesn't want to sit on those chairs, they aren't made for men of his size) and take the tacos back to the hotel. Once they're all spread out, Sam can breathe a little easier.

"So, are you ever going to explain why we had to get tacos instead of going to the diner?" Y/N asks as she bites into her taco. She stares at Sam as she chews, but her face turns as something wrong hits her taste buds.

"Do these tacos taste funny to you?" Dean asks, mouth full.

The only good thing, Sam thinks as he watches Y/N slump against the table only seconds before Dean does, is that he doesn't have to hear Y/N's heart shattering whisper again.

Day 7

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

"Dean!" Y/N screams as Dean falls to the ground after trying to plug in his razor, ending up electrocuted with hair sticking up and skin burning. "He's not breathing! Sam!" She calls, but Sam stays in bed. He takes a deep breath as he prepares himself for the next line, which although he's heard it five times already never fails to make the hair on his arms stick up.

"This can't be happening."

Day 8

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

Sam doesn't have time today. He's going to figure out what the hell is going on at the Mystery Spot.

He lets the day go on as normal, Dean getting his bacon and Y/N asking about lunch. He forgets to stand in Dean's spot, and Y/N gets in a fight with the Dean, which means they end up meeting her after hours at the Mystery Spot.

"I think Sam's gone crazy." Dean says when they spot her.

"Why's that?" She asks, taking a flashlight from him. She forgot her gun at the hotel, having thought she would be going back after breakfast. They enter the building, weaving through some rooms and hotel to get to the main attracts

"Dean, you said you would trust me." Sam complains, and Dean sighs.

"I will, I will." He promises. "Sam says he's been through today before. Like Groundhog Day. He said the first time, I died here."

"Listen," Sam stops them both in a green and black spiral hallway. "The first time we were here, Dean died because the owner caught us sneaking around. This time, we're gonna catch the owner so I can figure out what the hell is up with this place. Because if I wake up tomorrow and it isn't Wednesday, I'm gonna lose my mind." Sam tells them, then marches out. Y/N nods, looking to Dean.

"He's lost his marbles." She's agrees, following Sam.

It's not hard to tie up the owner with the duct tape Sam had brought, but Y/N and Dean both just watch as Sam starts to tear into the walls with a sledge hammer.

"Everybody's fine. Nobody's gonna get hurt, okay?" Dean says enthusiastically to the owner. Y/N is sitting on the floor next to Sam, watching with wide eyes as he goes crazy.

"Sam, maybe we should drop it and let the poor man leave." She suggests, watching Sam stagger back. He looks like a wild man, and Y/N fights the urge to slide away.

"Something's gotta be goin' on here. I intend to find out what." He heaves, and Y/N just nods. They've been here for the better part of the night, and Sam has gone through most of the walls.

"Place is tore up pretty good, dude. Time to give it a rest." Dean says, but he doesn't move toward his brother.

"No!" Sam yells, startling Y/N. Now she does slide back to Dean's side, not wanting to be near the axe. "I'm gonna take it down to studs." Sam goes back to chopping, and Y/N runs a hand over her face as Dean lets out a breathy chuckle.

"Sammy, that's enough. Give me the axe." Dean pushes himself up, and Y/N stays sitting as she watches the two boys fight.

"No!" Sam yells, pulling it away from his brother.

"Give me the axe! This is crazy!" Dean argues, and the two start yelling over each other. Y/N stands as Dean grabs the handle, the axe balancing between them.

"Guys, I think we should drop the axe and quit fighting." She's trying to sound calm, but her heart is racing. She doesn't like the look of this. She begins to walk forward as Sam loses his grip on the axe and it slices right across Dean's neck, not quite decapitating him but killing him quickly.

"Oh, no. Dean?" Sam doesn't sound too concerned, but Y/N feels like she's going to throw up. There's blood covering her face and clothing, Dean's blood, and he's dead. He's dead, and Sam killed him. She looks up at him, and he just tilts his head and sighs.

"This can't be happening." She says, confusion laced in her voice.

Day 100

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

Y/N reminds Dean to grab his gun, he grabs her hand and tells Sam to lock up, and then they're on their way to breakfast. On the way, Sam tries to tell them about the time loop, but it goes about the same as it did the last time. They sit in the too small booth again, and Sam almost rips his hair out when Dean starts to speak.

"Hey, Tuesday. Pig 'n a poke." Dean gestures up at the menu. Y/N furrows her brows, trying to get more information. Before she can, Sam sets a set of keys on the table. "What are those?" Dean asks, looking up.

"The old man's." When he says it, Y/N realizes that Sam seems tired, like he didn't sleep at all last night. "Trust me, you don't want him behind the wheel." He says tiredly, like he's had this conversation before. Y/N furrows her brows, but before she can ask the waitress shows up.

"Are you three ready?" She asks with a smile. Y/N smiles back at her.

"Yes, we are. I'll have the special, a side of bacon, and a coffee." Dean orders, then turns to Y/N.

"Can I order lunch for breakfast?" Y/N asks, and the waitress sighs.

"I would let ya, but our kitchen isn't set up for it." She says it kindly, and Y/N nods.

"I'll just have coffee, then." The waitress jots it down, and they turn to Sam.

"Hey, Doris. What I'd like is for you to log in some more hours at the archery range." Sam says, and Y/N opens her mouth, but nothing comes out. She has no idea how to excuse what Sam has just said. "You're a terrible shot." He says it like it's funny, which makes him seem even more crazy.

"How do you know," She starts, but Sam doesn't let her finish.

"Lucky guess." He nods. Y/N can feel Dean looking to her, probably to see if this is real or not, but Y/N cannot take her eyes off the younger Winchester. They all smile at Doris, who leaves, then turn to Sam.

"Okay, so, you think you're caught in some kind of what again?" Dean asks, because clearly the display he just put on caught his older brother's attention.

"Time loop." Sam is looking at the table, slouched in his seat with a sad expression.

"Like Groundhog Day." Dean suggests, and Y/N watches Sam shrug.

"It doesn't matter. There's no way to stop it." He grumbles quickly, and Y/N sighs.

"Jeez, aren't you grumpy?" Dean says, and Y/N closes her eyes at her boyfriend's dense nature.

"Yeah, I am. You wanna know why?" Sam asks, and Y/N puts her head on the table. Sam may have actually lived through this Tuesday a hundred times, but Y/N has lived through this fight a thousand.

"Why?" Dean can't resist poking.

"Because this is the hundredth Tuesday in a row I've been through, and it never stops. Ever. So, yeah, I'm a little grumpy." Sam tells them, and Y/N picks her head up to try and comfort him.

"We'll figure this out, Sam." She tells him, because even if she's not sure if Sam is truly crazy or if he's actually living through a year of Tuesdays, she knows they will help him.

"Hot sauce." Sam says, and Y/N can only blink at this.

"What?" Dean asks, but then the waitress come back over with their coffees. The hot sauce teeters off the edge of the platter, but Sam catches it.

"Nice reflexes."

"I knew it was gonna happen, Dean." Sam barely lets his brother get the words out. "I know everything that's gonna happen."

"You don't know everything." Dean snarks, and Y/N wonders if in one of these hundred timelines, her boyfriend ever just leaves things be instead of challenging them.

"Yeah, I do." Sam counters, and Y/N is about to split up the fighting before it's even started when the two begin to talk at the same time.

"Yeah, right. Nice guess." Dean looks up at that, and Sam just smirks.

"It wasn't a guess." Sam says, but of course Dean can't leave it at that.

"Right, you're a mind reader. Cut it out, Sam. Sam! Sam!" They both lean into the table, getting close to each other. "You think you're being funny, but you're being really really childish. Sam Winchester wears makeup. Sam Winchester cries his way through sex. Sam Winchester keeps a ruler by the bed and evermore when he wakes up-"

"Okay, stop it!" She says, but Sam says it in time with her, causing her to stare at him. He cowers back, knowing he crossed a line.

"Sorry." He mutters, and everyone takes a deep breath. "But that's not all. Randy, the cashier? He's skimming from the register." They all turn to look at the guy at the front, who seems none the wiser to Sam knowing this information.

"Sam," Y/N starts, but Sam doesn't stop to listen to her. Whatever he thinks she's said before, it clearly wasn't important.

"Judge Meyers? At night, he puts on a furry bunny outfit." Sam says it loud enough that Judge Myers hears them and drops his drink, spilling it everywhere. "Over there, that's Cal. He's gonna rob Tony the Mechanic on the way home."

"What's your point?" Dean asks, eyes wide with this information.

"My point is I've lived through every possible Tuesday. I've watched you die every possible way. I even watched you die once." He turns to Y/N, who is still staring at him. "I have ripped apart the mystery spot, burnt it down, tried everything I know to save your life, and I can't. No matter what I do, you die. And then I wake up. And then it's Tuesday again." Y/N and Dean look at each other, and Y/N wonders how many times Sam has watched them do this. She wonders how many times Sam has gone through this exact speech, how many times it took for him to get to where he is now.

~

They're walking back to the hotel, and Sam's still dejected.

"Dog." He says, and on cue, the dog starts barking.

"There's gotta be some way out of this." Y/N says, even though she's sure Sam's tried almost everything.

"Where's my dang keys?" Sam asks, and a moment later they walk around the old man from the diner asking the same thing. "Excuse me." He says, and then a girl brushes past Dean.

"Excuse me." She tells him, and Y/N turns around, about to yell at her.

"Don't yell at her, you'll only start a fight." Sam says as he grabs her arm. She's starting to get annoyed with his futuristic bullshit, so she rips her arm away from his.

"I wasn't going to." She says, and before Sam can tell her that he knows she was, Y/N feels the need to do something different, just to prove him wrong. "Excuse me!" She calls, causing the blonde girl to turn around. Y/N jogs to catch up, leaving the brothers behind her.

"Has she ever done that?" Dean asks, starting to walk back.

"No," Sam says, sounding shocked. Y/N's grabbing a paper by the time they get there, and the girl is walking away. She looks down at the paper, then back up at Sam.

"You've done this a hundred times, and you never thought to check and see what she was carrying?" Y/N asks, and Sam shakes his head.

"Most of the time, I was keeping you from a fight." Sam says, and Y/N rolls her eyes.

"It's a missing poster." She says, holding it up. "For her father." When Y/N drops the last part, Sam's eyes widen and grabs the paper, jogging toward the girl. The dog next to them is barking, and Dean smiles down at them.

"Hey, buddy. Someone need a friend?" He asks as he crouches to pet them. Y/N smiles and leans in closer, and then the dog goes for Dean's jugular as if it's a rabid animal.

"Dean!" Y/N screams, pulling him away from the dog. But he's already gone, blood all over his front and eyes wide still. "Sam!" She calls, and Sam turns to see the scene.

"Shit," He mutters, but at least he figured something out before he had to restart. Something useful.

"This can't be happening."

Day 103

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

Sam is ready to get to breakfast, and after Y/N reminds Dean to grab his gun they're off, Sam bringing his laptop to do some digging into the case. They order from the waitress, sitting in the small booth, and Sam starts to report on his findings from the day before, when he had talked to the missing guy's daughter.

"He writes about local Mystery Spots, debunking them. He's already put four of them out of business. Here." She turns the laptop around so they can see what Sam's found, and the couple start to read up.

"The 'Truth Warrior'?" Y/N asks, with a roll of her eyes.

"More like a Pompous Schmuck, if you ask me." Dean says, leaning over her shoulder.

"Yeah, tell me about it. I mean, I've read everything the guy's ever written. He must've weighed a ton, he was so full of himself." Sam says, and Y/N pauses on that. How has Sam read everything he's ever written if they just started researching this morning?

"When did you read all that?" Y/N asks, and Sam just stares for a moment as the couple looks at him like he's crazy.

"Come on." He avoids the question, grabbing his laptop.

"It's funny, ya know? This guy spends his whole life crapping on mystery spots and then he vanishes in one." Dean says with a chuckle as they stand, and Y/N nods with a smile.

"Kinda poetic." She says, following Dean out the door. They pass when Sam isn't right behind them, turning back to see him staring at an empty plate.

"What?" Dean asks.

"Guy has maple syrup for the past hundred Tuesdays - all the sudden, he's having strawberry?" Sam watches the man that was just in the diner as he walks outside.

"That's not a very funny punchline." Y/N comments, looking at the plate.

"It's a free country, Sam. A man can't choose his own syrup, huh? What have we become?" Dean jokes, causing Y/N to let out a small giggle. Sam doesn't find either of their jokes even worthy of a smile.

"Not in this diner. Not today." He says, completely serious. Y/N's smile begins to fade, because she thinks Sam may actually be crazy. "Nothing in this place ever changes - ever. Except me." Sam says dramatically. Y/N opens her mouth with a small smile.

"This cannot be happening." She says, Sam's eyes widening as he turns to her. "Sam, it's too early for you to lose your marbles."

"No, wait!" He yells, but it's too late.

Day 104

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N smiles around her toothpaste. She spits it out as Dean turns up the music, making her way out of the bathroom to pack up and let the boys in to get ready.

"I'm caught in a time loop, and I think I just figured out how to fix it but we have to go to breakfast now." Sam says quickly, rising and going to his bag, changing his clothes without even caring that Y/N is standing right there. She covers her eyes dramatically, even though she's seen it all through the years when she's had to fix him up after hard fights.

"Breakfast sounds good to me." Dean agrees, completely skipping the time loop part as if Sam had told them the weather.

"Don't forget your gun, Dean. I'll lock up. We can talk about it later." Sam says, pulling on his shoes and grabbing Y/N's arm to lead her out the door.

"What the hell are you doing?" She asks, snatching her arm out of his grasp.

"I promise, it will all make sense soon. I just have to get to the diner." He lets Dean and Y/N go ahead before goes back into the room to grab what he needs. He doesn't even complain about the small booth, doesn't snap when Y/N asks for the hundredth time about lunch, and grabs the hot sauce when it falls. When Dean's food finally comes, he seems to be in a better mood.

"So, you think you're caught in some kind of what now?" Dean asks through a mouth of bacon. Y/N scrunches her face in disgust, but she doesn't say anything.

"Eat your breakfast." Sam snaps, and Y/N gives Sam a look, if only because she doesn't dare to say anything to him when he's acting like this. As soon as the man sitting at the bar across from them gets up, Sam follows with the bag he packed.

"What's in the bag?" Dean asks, and Y/N sighs as she stands.

"Nothing good, I'm sure." She says as Dean follows, putting money on the table. Sam follows the man far enough that there aren't a lot of people around before he pushes him against a chainlink fence, a stake pressed to his neck.

"I know who you are. Or should I say 'what'?" Sam says, and Y/N looks at Dean, unsure what to do.

"Oh my God. Please, don't kill me." The man begs, and Y/N steps toward Sam, hand on his bicep.

"Uh, Sam," She starts softly, but he shrugs her off.

"It took me a hell of a long time, but I got it." Sam is acting like nothing else exists, and it's kind of scaring Y/N.

"What?" The man asks, as if Sam really needed prompting to continue.

"It's your M.O. that gave you away. Going after pompous jerks, giving them their just desserts. Your kind loves that, don't they?" Y/N looks at Dean once more, because she is completely lost.

"Yeah, sure. Okay. Just put the stake down." The man begs, and Y/N grabs Dean's arm to try and get him to help.

"Sam, maybe you should-"

"No!" Sam yells, voice deep. It startles Y/N, but Dean is still staring intently. "There's only one creature powerful enough to do what you're doing. Making reality out of nothing, sticking people in time loops. In fact, you'd pretty much have to be a god. You'd have to be a trickster." Sam says, and Y/N suddenly realizes what Sam is saying.

"Mister, my name is Ed Coleman. My wife's name is Amelia. I've got two kids. For crying out loud, I sell ad space!" Y/N's not sure if the trickster is just putting up a great show, or of if Sam has gone off his rocker and this is his breaking point. She briefly realizes she'd be losing both Winchesters if this is true, so she needs this man to be a trickster. She needs Sam to be right.

"Don't lie to me! I know what you are!" Sam screams. Y/N flinches again, and Dean grabs her hand and squeezes. "We've killed one of your kind before!" The words are barely out of Sam's mouth before Loki is there, in the flesh. The trickster they thought they killed, not actually dead.

"Actually, bucko, you didn't." He says, and Y/N feels Dean push her behind him slightly.

"Why are you doing this." Sam says, keeping the stake pointing to his neck.

"You're joking, right? You chuckleheads tried to kill me last time. Why wouldn't I do this?" The answer makes Y/N angry, but Dean opens his mouth first.

"And Hasselback, what about him?" Dean asks, as if that's the most important thing right now. It's nice he's thinking about the victim, but a trickster they thought they killed is actually alive, and apparently has been putting Sam through time loops.

"That putz? He said he didn't believe in wormholes, so I dropped him in one." The trickster says, and Y/N groans, because of course nothing can be easy. "Huh? Then you guys showed up. I made you the second you hit town." He's saying it all with a smile, and Y/N can't stop herself.

"So this is fun for you?" She asks, and Sam pushes the stake in more.

"You killed Dean over and over again." Sam says, and Y/N can't help but squeeze Dean's arm tighter; Sam hadn't told them about that part of the time loop.

"One - yes, it is fun. And two - this is so not about killing Dean. This joke, is on you, Sam." The trickster says, before he looks over to Y/N. "It could've been on you, too, but I knew you'd figure it out way faster. But Sam, having to watch his brother die every day. Forever. Having to listen to you say the same words again and again." He's smiling, and Y/N feels sick even though she doesn't even know what words he's talking about.

"You son of a bitch." Sam says, but he has nothing else, no other comeback.

"How long will it take you to realize you can't save your brother, no matter what? Hell, sometimes, you can't even save her." Loki taunts, and Y/N wishes Sam would just kill the motherfucker and end this.

"Oh yeah?" Sam asks, pushing him into the fence even more. "I kill you, this all ends now."

"Oh, hey! Whoa, okay, okay. Look, I was just playing around. You can't take a joke, fine. You're out of it. Tomorrow, you wake up, it'll be Wednesday. I swear." Loki says, and Y/N shakes her head.

"How do we know you're telling the truth?" She asks, and he turns to Sam.

"If I'm not, you know where to find me. Having pancakes at the diner." He says simply. Sam looks over to Dean and Y/N, who look at him with the same expression. He knows what he has to do.

"No. Easier to just kill you." He says.

"Sorry, kiddo, can't have that." Loki snaps his fingers, and suddenly he's gone. Y/N groans, rolling her eyes and flopping her body dramatically.

"Don't," Sam says, but it's too late.

"This can't be happening." She complains, and Sam thanks the trickster that at least this time, it wasn't soft and sad.

Day 105

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N turns to see him looking wide eyed.

"What, are you gonna sleep all day?" Dean asks around his toothbrush, one hand on Y/N's hip and the other brushing his teeth behind her.

"No Asia." Sam says, and Y/N furrows her brows as Dean leans over her to spit his toothpaste out.

"Yeah, I know. This station sucks." He complains, going over to his bag. Y/N spits out her toothpaste and rinses her mouth, freeing up the bathroom for Sam.

"It's Wednesday!" He says, and Y/N pursues her lips in confusion.

"Yup, it usually comes after Tuesday." She says, going to her shared bag.

"Hey, turn the music off, would ya?" Dean asks, getting in Y/N's way of packing the bag.

"What, are you kidding?" Sam asks, as if Dean was crazy. "This isn't the most beautiful song you've ever heard?" He dramatically jumps out of bed, causing Y/N and Dean to just stare.

"No." Dean says flatly, and Y/N tilts her head slightly.

"Are you alright, Sam?" She asks, walking over to the bed. "You were pretty out of it yesterday." She feels his forehead, and he only lets her because he knows Dean would kill him if he smacked her hand away.

"What happened?" Sam asks, too scared to hope.

"I mean, you were acting all strange, and we ran into the trickster." Dean explains, and Sam smiles as he finishes putting on his shirt.

"Alright, pack your stuff. Let's get the hell out of town, now." Sam says, and Y/N turns to Dean.

"What's up with him?" She asks, and he frowns.

"I don't know, but I want breakfast." Dean says as he walks out of the room, Y/N following.

"No breakfast!" Sam shouts, and she rolls her eyes.

"We can stop somewhere." She whispers as they make their way to the car. Dean puts their bag in, then Y/N's small personal bag, not closing the trunk because Sam's supposed to be right behind them.

"I feel like we made a mistake, letting the trickster go." He says, and she sighs. Before she can respond, however, they turn to see a man pointing a gun at them.

"Give me your wallet." He's shaking, and Y/N can tell this is his first time.

"Hey, woah, we can talk about this, alright?" Dean tries, hands up. Y/N reaches for her gun, but she forgot it in their bag, thinking they were just going out to the car. A stupid, stupid mistake. "Why don't you just put the gun down, we can talk about this." He says, but the man doesn't like the answer. He gets closer, and the second Dean shifts to grab a gun the man shoots. He must've realized his mistake quickly, because he's running before Y/N even screams. She hits the ground, grabbing his body and staring at the bloody mess and the bullet hole on the front.

"Dean?" She whispers, but she knows it's futile. The man may not have had much experience with a gun, but he hit Dean perfectly to kill.

"Dean!" Sam shouts as he runs over. "No, no, no, this wasn't supposed to happen, not today!" He says, and Y/N has no idea what that means but she lets it go as she watches her tears fall onto Dean's freckled face. The love of her life, gone.

"I'm sorry," She says, because she doesn't know what else to say. She should have had her gun on her, should have been able to stop that guy.

"I'm supposed to wake up." Sam says, and Y/N looks up finally.

"What?" She says, cradling Dean's body close to hers.

"Say the thing." He demands, and she flinches back. It's silent for a couple moments as they stare at each other.

"What thing?" She asks, looking back down at Dean. She pushes some stray hairs out of his face, brushing her fingers down his stubble.

"You always say it!" Sam snaps, and Y/N startles. "You say it every time, right before it resets. You have to say it." He begs, and she thinks he must be going crazy.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She whispers as more tears fall down her face.

"'This can't be happening.' Say 'this can't be happening.'" Sam tells her, and she just shakes her head.

"Why?" She doesn't understand, everything feels wrong. Holding Dean's lifeless body is wrong, not feeling his breath is wrong.

"Just do it!" He yells, and she can't help the sob that escapes.

"This can't be happening." She repeats, but nothing happens.

Six Months Later

"Hey, Sam, it's me. I just wanted to let you know that I'm back from Cabo, where I spread some of Dean's ashes. I wish you could've come, Bobby said he hasn't heard from you in awhile, so I figured I should reach out. He said you've been hunting still. Taking care of business. I want to help, Sam. Don't push me away." She takes a deep breath, and Sam can hear the hesitation over the recording. "I know this is hard, Sam. But you've turned into a machine, and I know Dean doesn't want that." She hesitates again, and Sam almost wishes she'd end the call. "Call me, Sam. Please." Finally, the end tone plays, and Sam presses on the gas harder. He knows that Y/N wouldn't approve him summoning the trickster, but he has to do it, he has to get his revenge or get Dean back.

Sam has been on the fringe, he knows, but killing Bobby was a wake up call. He would promise that trickster anything, to just have Dean back. Bobby's voicemails are bad enough, but Y/N's break his already fragile heart. He can barely listen when she does call. He would have sold his soul. But thankfully, he doesn't have to do that. Loki snaps his fingers, and for once - no, this makes twice - Sam doesn't have to hear the God forsaken words come out of Y/N's mouth before everything goes black.

Wednesday

Sam shoots straight up, and from her space in the bathroom, Y/N turns to see him looking wide eyed.

"What, are you gonna sleep all day?" Dean asks around his toothbrush, one hand on Y/N's hip and the other brushing his teeth behind her. Sam continues to stare, and Dean spits out the toothpaste over Y/N. "I know, no Asia. This station sucks." Dean complains, and Y/N rolls her eyes as she spits out her own toothpaste.

"It's Wednesday." He says softly, and Y/N briefly wonders if he had a nightmare. She didn't hear any tossing or turning, but that didn't mean much.

"Yup, it usually comes after Tuesday." She says, going to her shared bag.

"Hey, turn the music off, would ya?" Dean asks, getting in Y/N's way of packing the bag. She smiles up at him, but then Sam comes over, grabbing Dean around the shoulders and pulling him in for a hug. She steps back to let them have their moment, but Dean is looking at her confused over Sam's shoulder.

"Dude, how many Tuesdays did you have?" He asks, and Sam breathes deeply.

"Enough." He answers, then pulls back. "Wait, what do you remember." He looks at the both of them, so Y/N answers.

"You were pretty out of it yesterday." She says, recalling how erratic he had acted at the diner.

"Yeah, you were acting all strange, and we ran into the trickster." Dean says, and Sam nods. "That's about it."

"Let's go." Sam finally says with a small smile.

"No breakfast?" Dean asks, and Sam chuckles.

"We can get breakfast on the way." She tells him, and both of them nod. "Are you sure you're okay, Sam?" She knows something's up, but Sam is trying to play it off.

"I just had a really weird dream." Sam says, and Y/N nods. "And Y/N, don't ever leave the hotel without your gun again. Ever." He says, and Y/N furrows her brow.

"We're literally going to parking lot." She says, but Sam shakes his head.

"Trust me, don't do." He picks up his bag, and Y/N shrugs, grabbing her gun out of her personal bag before following Dean out, Sam bringing up the rear.

"I really hope this is happening." Sam says as he looks at the bed that he woke up in over a hundred times, then closes the door. 

//

tags: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187  @one-sweet-gubler @theoraekenslover @king-of-milf-lovers @lyarr24

[samslvrgirl]

Waitress!AU Sam Winchester x Reader Masterlist

Pairing: doctor!Sam x Reader

Summary: Y/N, a struggling waitress trapped in an abusive marriage, finds out she is suddenly pregnant. While in her appointment to make sure she is, she meets Dr. Sam Winchester, her new doctor since her old one is on vacation.

Part 1 - Bad Baby Pie

Part 2 - Un-congratulations (coming soon)

*abandoned*

[reigningqueenofwords]

Tall girls

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 2,575 Warnings: Oral, smut Request: my request was for a story where the reader is short ( like 5'1") and she has a crush on Dean. She overhears him at a bar one night flirting with the waitress and he says that “he likes tall girls”. Of course the reader is heartbroken. With some fluff and a little smut please. Thank you and so glad you are back.

Read on AO3

Pulling your hair up, you laughed. “I’m serious.” Sam smiled. “He screamed this high pitched scream, looking completely terrified. It was a damn cat.” You were cracking up at the expense of your long time crush- Dean. “You know what he says right after?” You shook your head, trying to breath. “He looks at me, this weird smile, and goes ‘that was scary!’” He did his best to mimic Dean’s voice. That made you laugh even harder. He was telling you funny stories, trying to distract you from his brother. Sam knew about your crush, and didn’t want you getting hurt when you saw him off being well…Dean.

“Wow.” You breathed when you could finally talk again. “I wish I had been there.” Hearing Dean’s voice, you furrowed your brows. Glancing around, you spotted him not far off with a waitress.

He was leaning on the table she was clearing, that smirk on his face. “Oh, I like tall girls, sweetheart.” His green eyes looking up and down her long, sleek body. He licked his lips unconsciously, something that you knew he really did when he saw someone he wanted to sleep with.

Turning away, you downed your beer. “Another?” You asked Sam.

“I’ll get them.” He gave you a sad smile, slipping off his stool and heading towards the bar.

Leaning on the heel of your left palm, you played with a napkin, simply staring at it. There was no joy in your face, and you were trying not to tear up. Afterall, it was just a silly crush, and now you knew that he’d never be attracted to you, right? You were far from tall. Hell, you barely were past five feet tall! Letting out a breath of air, your chest ached as if being crushed.

You heard feet, and the slight scraping of the stool near you, but didn’t look up. “Hot damn.” You heard Dean’s voice, and knew he had a cocky grin on his face. “That is a fine lady, and I got her number.” He gloated.

Without a word, you got up and walked out, wiping your cheek. Pulling out your phone once you were outside, you texted Sam.

Going to my room. See you in the morning. I’m sorry, I couldn’t listen to him brag about scoring her number…

Hitting send, you shoved your phone in your back pocket.

Sam furrowed his brows when he returned with the two beers to see you missing. Setting them down, he felt his phone vibrate and pulled it out. He groaned before replying.

Sorry. I’ll slap him upside the head. Wait up and we’ll watch something. Be there soon.

Of course, she would know soon could be up to an hour with them. Dean grabbed one of the beers and took a swig. “What the hell’s up with Y/N/N?” He asked, curious. “Almost as soon as I sat down, she got up, and walked out. Not a word. Hell, didn’t even look at me.” He scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re an ass, you know that, right?” Sam glared at him.

Dean looked confused. “What the hell did I do?!” His tone let Sam know he was a bit offended.

Sighing, Sam sat on his stool. “You know we could hear you with that waitress, right?” Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. “Y/N/N has feelings for you. Can’t see why, though. She heard you tell the waitress you like tall women, Dean.” He took a swig of his own, clearly unamused.

“Wait, what?” He wasn’t sure he was hearing things right. “Did you just say she has feelings for me?” Sam gave him a bitch face, not wanting to answer such a stupid question. “Fuck.” He groaned, putting his forehead on his arm that was on the table. “That was her texting- wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Said she’d see me in the morning that she couldn’t stand to hear you ‘brag’ about getting her number.” He told him. “I told her I’d slap you upside the head and to wait up, that we’d watch something.”

Dean licked his lips, sitting up. “Keep texting her, keep her awake.” He said, sliding off his stool.

Sam furrowed his brows. “What’re you gonna do?”

He smiled. “Chick flick moment.” He shrugged, and Sam looked at him like he was insane. “Flowers, showing up at her door…that stuff.”

“So, what, you’re gonna show up with flowers, apologize for being a man-whore, and then go call miss tall waitress?” He scoffed. “That’s…low.”

“No, you dick.” He shot back. “I’m going to show up with flowers, apologize for being an ass, and…” Dean let out a breath. “Tell her I feel the same. Let’s just hope she doesn’t slam the door in my face.”

Sam was actually shocked at that. “Wow. The Tin Man does have a heart.” He looked impressed. Dean shot him a look as he walked away, leaving Sam alone in the crowded bar.

Once in your room, you kicked off your shoes and sighed. Another night alone, and another ride home in the morning with Dean grinning like an idiot. Shaking your head, you swallowed, trying not to cry. However, as you started to undress to change for the night, you broke.

You had just pulled on a shirt that you’d swiped from Dean ages ago when your phone went off. At first, you wanted to ignore it, but couldn’t. It was from Sam, so you plopped on the bed to text him. You were glad that you had someone to talk to about all this, and he never teased you about it.

Soon, he had you laughing through the tears, time passing like nothing. Before you knew it, there was a knock at your door, which confused you. Sam was still talking about things at the bar, so you had no idea who it was. Looking at the time, it had been about an hour.

Setting your phone down, you picked your gun up off the nightstand and quietly made your way to the door and looked through the peephole. Dean with flowers was the last thing you would have thought you’d see.

You opened the door and raised an eyebrow. “Dean?” Your eyes were still a bit red and puffy, as was your nose from wiping it, but you didn’t care.

Dean’s heart fell further at the sight of you. “Fuck…” He sighed. “Oh, uh, these are for you.” You were surprised when he blushed lightly, handing you a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. Honestly, you didn’t know that he had known what they were. “C-can we talk?” Seeing Dean like this wasn’t something that happened much.

Nodding, you stepped aside and let him in. “I thought you’d be with the waitress. They are beautiful, though. Thank you.” You said, looking down at the flowers. Chewing your lip, you set them gently on the stand by the tv, having nothing to put them in.

He handed you a bag. “Here. For you, too.” Once you took it, he sat on the end of the bed, his leg moving like there was no tomorrow. “I hope you like it.”

Confused, you opened the bag and couldn’t help but smile sadly, the tears coming again. It was a Y/F/C stuffed Y/F/A with a little heart that said ‘I love you’. You looked over at him. “Did Sammy tell you about me being upset and you felt bad…so you came over?” You asked. “Don’t feel guilty, Dean. It’s okay, I get it.” Sniffing, your eyes went back to the stuffed animal in your hand. Your thumb rubbed the soft fur.

It took Dean a moment to process what you’d said before he got up. He cupped your cheek and made you look at him. “I feel guilty because I hurt the woman I love.” He told you, his eyes on yours. Sighing, his thumb gently wiped a tear from your cheek. “Sam was sitting at the bar while I ran around finding you that stuff.” Dean chuckled.

“That’s why he was so adamant about texting me?” You mused. “I thought he was just really bored or something.”

Dean chuckled lightly and shook his head. “Nope. I told him to keep texting you to keep you awake.” He grinned.

You licked your lips, thinking. “But what about you saying you like tall women? I’m pretty far from that.”

“I never said I disliked short women, did I?” He smirked, looking proud of himself. “Just because I like one type of woman doesn’t mean I don’t like another.” You nodded slightly, knowing he had a point. “Now, I’m going to kick off my boots, toss my jacket over there, and get into bed. Then we can watch a movie, or get some rest.”

“What if I want something else?” You asked quietly, somewhat nervous.

He furrowed his brows. “Like what?”

Pulling him to you, your lips crashed to his. The surprise quickly wore off, his arms wrapping around your waist, kissing you back. “You.” You pulled away just enough to breath that one word.

“I don’t want to rush you into anything.” He kissed your forehead.

You shook your head. “You’re not.” You smiled up at him, love in your eyes. “I trust you.” The three words seemed to ease any worries that he had, the sides of his mouth pulling up into a smile. You pushed his jacket off his shoulders, your lips moving desperately against his.

His fingertips brushed up your thighs, to the hem of the shirt you were wearing. “I love how you look in my shirt, sweetheart.” He grinned, causing you to blush. Pulling it over your head, he groaned when you were standing almost completely bare before him. All you were wearing was a small pair of underwear.

“You’re overdressed.” You teased, pulling his shirt off of him. Kissing over his chest, your fingers worked on undoing his belt and then his jeans. Dean let out a low hiss of pleasure when your teeth scraped his nipple lightly. “I’ll need to remember that.” You chuckled.

As soon as you had his jeans unzipped, he surprised you by pulling you up and moving you towards the bed. His hands were on your hips, his eyes on yours. “You’re beautiful.” He smiled softly.

Your knees hit the bed and you dropped, crawling backwards towards the pillows. As he pulled off his boots and rid himself of his clothes, you hooked your thumbs in the band of your underwear and shimmied them off. Biting your lip, you tossed them at him, laughing when he landed on the tip of his erection. Even Dean couldn’t help but laugh, either. He brushed them off before crawling towards you, kissing up your legs.

He parted your legs, moving to lay between them. His hot breath sent a shiver down your spine, earning a smile from the green eyed hunter. Your train of thought was cut short when he began licking and sucking at your most sensitive areas. Fists gripping the sheets, you tried to squirm, only for his hands to hold you in place. One of your hands went from the motel sheets to his short, dirty blonde hair.

Dean moaned when you gave it a tug, the vibrations going right through you. “Dean…” You breathed, right on the edge. “Please.” You half whined. He didn’t disappoint, curling two fingers into your wet heat. They hit that sweet spot as Dean’s mouth continued as it had been. “Oh, fuck, Dean!” You moaned, arching your back, your legs shaking.

He slowly worked you down before placing a kiss above your slit. “Way better than I imagined.” Dean told you, kissing up your body.

Pulling him into a kiss, you moaned at the taste of yourself on his lips. Your hand gripped him, slowly pumping as you moved him to his back. Your lips moved to his jaw, your hand still moving. As you moved down, you inhaled the scent that was all Dean. Leather, that cologne that he would never tell you the name of, a hint of the bars that he’d been to, and just a touch of his natural musk.

Nipping his hip, you finally released his erection, trading your hand for your mouth. Your tongue flattened, never leaving his skin as you moved. Hearing your name moaned from his lips, your eyes fluttered closed, earning your own moan in return.

You could have stayed there until he finished, but he didn’t want that. “Come here, baby.” He breathed, lust dripping from his words.

With one final suck, you moved so that you were laying next to him. Kissing him, you had your chest pressed close to his. “Condom?” You brushed his nose with yours.

“Of course.” Dean nodded, getting up and moving to his pants. Once he had it, he dropped his pants and ripped open the package. You watched as he rolled it down his shaft, rubbing your thighs together.

When he was back over you, you were in awe at how much love radiated from his eyes for you. “Don’t keep a girl waiting.” You teased. Chuckling, he kissed you as he lined himself and rocked his hips forward.

Once his hips were flush against your body, he broke the kiss, burying his face in your neck. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He groaned, moving his hips perfectly.

Your nails ran lightly down his back until your hands gripped his ass, enjoying how it felt having him on top of you. “Oh, Dean.” You panted.

At the sound of your voice, he gripped your shoulders, thrusting into you. His mouth was all over your neck, and you knew that you’d have marks after. The thought pushed you over the edge. He felt you start to clench around him and gave it everything he had. “Cum for me, sweetheart.” He groaned through gritted teeth, knowing that the second you came, he’d be right behind you.

Pushing your head back into the pillow, you breathed his name over and over as you clenched around him. “Oh, God.” You whimpered, knowing he was about to finish as well.

Dean thrust a few more times before holding himself against you, breathing heavily as he filled the condom. Kissing up your neck, he slowly pulled out. “I’ll be right back.” He pecked your lips before getting up. Walking to the bathroom, he pulled off the condom and tossed it in the trash.

You heard him wash his hands, and then he was walking back to the bed. Nothing was said as he crawled in next to you, pulling you so that your head was on his chest, his arms around you. You put your arm over his stomach, listening to his heartbeat. “Dean?” You asked softly.

“Hm?” His eyes were closed as he laid there, content.

Licking your lips, you held him a bit tighter. “What does this make us?” Your voice shook slightly. “I don’t want to push you into anything.”

Dean kissed the top of your head. “We’re us.” He replied. “We have each other. No more flirting with waitress or bartenders for me. No more getting your heart broken because I’m an idiot.”

You couldn’t help but grin, closing your eyes. “Night, Dean. I love you.”

“I love you, too, sweetheart.” He felt happier than he had in a long time.