#deanwanddamons1kfollowerschallenge

[magssteenkamp]

just an old story rebloged

Sometimes you need it so bad. It’s enough to drive a young girl mad...

Pairing: Dean x Y/N, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1170

Warnings: Smut 18+ readers only, please… Masturbation, voyeurism, and swearing I guess that’s about it? 

A/N: This is my contribution to @deanwanddamons​ 1K Follower Challenge congratulations hun you deserve it!! Hope ya like this little ditty…😏

Disclosure, collage is my and googles work and as for the gif according to google the credit goes to Saveraloria.livejournal.com on Pinterest.

Summary: After a particularly long hunt where Y/N and Dean had no time to themselves, Y/N is so frustrated on the long drive back to the bunker that she decides to take matters into her own hands since she’s so horny shes going mad and maybe even give Dean a little show along with it…

Sam’s snoring softly in the front seat while Dean is driving back to the bunker after a long salt and burn hunt where they just could not get enough info on where the remains of the ghost were to make it an easy case, it was finally over and Y/N was so frustratingly horny that her pussy was constantly achy and slick. The fact that during the whole hunt she and Dean had no private time compared with the flirting and heated looks that he kept sending her she was just about going mad herself…

Keep reading

[justagirlinafandomworld]

Delicate

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 625 words

Summary: Dean made you feel things no one else ever had.

Warnings: ANGST. Reader is scared to love and of being loved in return.

A/N: Written for @deanwanddamons​​ ‘s 1k follower writing challenge, congratulations darling! You should check out her stories and give her a follow if you’re not already 😊  This took on a life of it’s own. I don’t know where it came from. I originally had plans for a musical number, so…enjoy!

Edit: Check out the sequel Fragile 

Every time was like the first time.

It started with glances. Small, stolen moments that could be missed in the blink of an eye.

Glances to see if you were okay after a plan had been laid out; glimpses to reassure you were there beside him when he felt he had just made an ass of himself. Those, you would hold onto, to relay that yes, he had been an ass. And yes, he could do better.

Moments he would check to see if he still held your attention; a blooming of elation in his chest when he did; a deflation of disappointment when he did not.

It was the ones he didn’t mean for you to see – the longing as you walked away; the hunger after a hunt when you were just as sweaty and dirty as he was and alive.

Those were the ones that terrified you.

Then more and more it was just the two of you. Pouring over research in the library, staking out houses and office buildings, and eating crap fast food at three in the morning because neither of you could sleep.

You could feel him when he was close, the hairs along your arms rising like sunflowers to the sun.

When he finally kissed you, he was so tender. Lips soft, pliant; hands cupping you gentle as if you were precious.

And you felt precious.

You were a warrior, a fighter, a hunter through and through.

But, in Dean’s arms you were treasure, completely worshiped and adored.

He nurtured something delicate within you no one had ever touched before.

Like a virgin, touched for the very first time.

-

“So what did you do?” Jody’s voice, sharp and judging had you groaning into your folded arms. “You drove six hours away to hide.”

“Five and a half.”

“How old are you again?”

“Okay!” You lifted your head and grudgingly accepted the goblet of wine from Jody. “I ran. I’m scared!”

Jody sat across the table from you, propping her head in her hand. Her stare was both belittling and amused. She was rubbing in your cowardice and enjoying your misery.

“What are you scared of? Dean?”

“No!” The denial was too quick, too loud. You wondered at that then distracted yourself by desperately gulping your wine.

Jody waited, fingers tapping along her cheek before moving to drink as well.

“I’m scared it could be real. And that I’ll fuck it up like I do everything else in my life. Lord knows I’ve had my fair share of flings-”

“Oh good, I was hoping that would come up.”

You stared across at her.

You came to Jody because she was the closest you had to a friend outside of the Winchesters. You needed someone to talk to. And Jody was going to strike through all the bullshit to get to the truth.

“I’m going to want more.” You confessed, eyes falling to the table. “If I didn’t run away tonight, I was only going to fall deeper and want more from him than he could ever give.”

“What do you want?”

“All of him.”

Simple. Honest.

But the truth was rarely so easy. Because he was Dean Winchester, he didn’t belong to any one person. He never could. He was a hunter, a hero and Sam’s protector.

Going further with him would be settling for fourth or fifth place in his heart.

“Maybe you should tell him that. Let him have a say.”

“It’s my heart.” You argued. You knew that if you were to ever lose him, there would be a painful void in your chest – a black hole where your heart should be.

But Jody only stared back; all amusement gone from her face.

“It’s his too.”

[chocolateheart]

My life is gone

Title: My life is gone

Word count: 2518

Pairing: Dean x Reader, Sam x Reader (friendship)

Summary: You lost him. Now you have to deal with pain, heartbreak and memories.

Warnings: angst, death, dead body, losing someone, losing faith and hope, suicidal thoughts, dealing with loss, a hint of depression, heartbreak, a mention of eating disorders and sleeping issues, in general - mental disorders caused by losing someone.

A/N: This is my one shot for @deanwanddamons 1k followers celebration. My prompt was "Though my heart is broken, it keeps breaking everyday." but I couldn't stop myself from using some other lyrics of the song. They are written in italics. I’m far away from being the angst queen or an amazing writer for that matter but I did my best! I hope you’ll like it :)

A/N: Thank you to my lovely beta and friend @winchest09 for taking a moment to look at this and assuring me that posting this won't be an insult on the angst. Love you, girl!

A/N: @talesmaniac89 thank you so so so much for those gorgeous dividers!

You didn’t know how long you’ve been sitting there. Maybe a few hours, maybe a few days. You didn’t really care. Nothing mattered anymore. 

Your body went numb from not moving, your chest was barely rising as you almost completely forgot that you have to breathe. Wet trails on your cheeks from streams of tears, eyes red and pinching, your eyelids heavy from a pulsing headache. You were feeling sick and you were sure that if you’d puke, it would burn your sore throat; you were screaming loud as indescribable pain was rending your chest. 

Your knees hurt after hours of being dug into the ground. Your spine was begging to be straightened, your cold skin was yelling for even a little bit of warmth. The clothes you were wearing got soaked and heavy from rain, wet hair stuck to your face and neck; thunder from another upcoming storm shook the earth. But you didn’t listen. The only sound you wanted to hear was his voice as that you would listen to; you would go to hell if this voice asked you to. 

Opening your eyes you knew what you were going to see; but it didn’t stop you. You blindly believed that it’s just some stupid nightmare and when you wake up he would smile at you and calm you down. But it didn’t happen. 

Dean’s cold body lay on the mudded ground, wet and dirty. Head limply turned to the side, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. You stared at his chest for a few agonizingly long seconds, waiting for it to rise up; for him to inhale. A pained grimace appeared on your face when you, once again, realised it wouldn’t happen; he won’t breathe. 

You lifted your head up to the dark sky and yelled from deep within your lungs as another painful wave went through your body. You punched the ground, kneeling next to him, splashing the mud; furious, mad and broken. Then you crowled to him weakly, taking his inert head in your hands, crying and whining. You brushed away his wet hair from his face, leaving dirty lines from your fingers. 

“Dean,” you choked yet again and rubbed your thumbs on his cheekbones. He felt so cold and hard, almost like it wasn’t him. “Baby, please,” you whimpered. “Talk to me…open your eyes.” You waited with stupid hope but again, nothing happened. Crying loudly you pulled him to your chest and hugged tight.

Those eyes. Those full of life, green orbs that would shimmer every time he saw you. They would shine in the sunlight, they were glistening in the evening when you sat together in front of the fireplace, darkening under the cover of the night when the two of you were making love, confessing how much you meant to each other. Green crystals which were the most valuable stones for you. Those eyes will never smile at you again.

Drowning in agony you started shaking, you felt your every cell shattering, falling into million pieces. You were bleeding inside, your heart was screaming, burning from anguish. Your hands fisted his jacket, you clawed to him like you were planning to never let go, like it was supposed to protect you from losing yourself completely. 

Protect you from darkness. 

Suddenly you got stiff. You pulled away, put his head back on the ground and touched his cheek. You tilted your head, your eyes flicking over those familiar features. Gold freckles shedded on his face, light scruff running along his jawline, long lashes you were so jealous of. He was your treasure. Your anchor, your shelter, your home and your safe harbor. He gave you strength, power, a will to wake up every morning, to fight with evil. He gave a sense to your life. 

Who were you without that?

An empty vessel ready to give up. 

Staring at his lifeless figure you turned off your brain; you turned off your whole system. You didn’t cry, scream, you closed yourself on this torture that was waiting to hit you. The only one thing you let get to you was Dean. Memories flashed in front of your eyes; every moment with him, bad or good, every time you shared your thoughts, dreams and plans, you held each other, protected the other; saving lifes, hunting things. 

You have been writing your book since you were twelve and he saved your life. Now you couldn’t save him. Was this supposed to be the last chapter?

“Y/N,” Sam’s broken voice was barely audible in the hum of a rainstorm you hadn’t noticed started. “It’s time.”

Your lower lip wobbled, you were not able to hold back tears and pained whimper as realisation of what comes next hit you. You bent down, closed your eyes and placed a small kiss on his forehead, putting your hand on his heart. For the last time you prayed to feel even the slightest beat under your fingers.

Nothing.

8 months later

"Hey…"

You jerked, detached from the dark world you had drowned in again when Sam spoke, leaning against the door frame.

“Sorry, I didn’t want to scare you,” you looked at him, noticing his worried expression. It wasn’t the first time he found you like this; sitting numbly on your bed, staring into the space. 

“That’s okay,” you said, sending him a small smile which he gave back.

“I left some pizza for you.” Just now you noticed the plate with a few pieces of italian food on it being offered to you by Sam .

Patting the bed you invited him to sit down next to you. You took the plate and stared at the food. You needed the fuel, you knew that; your stomach was sucking itself, grumbling every so often. You had lost a lot of weight, your skin was hanging on bones, your muscles were weak; but you didn’t care. Finding enough will to do something with yourself was impossible. Because, what was the point?

Your point of living was dead. And the only one reason you were still breathing, holding to this life with last strands, was this giant right in front of you. 

“Y/N, please,” Sam whispered and you looked up at him. His sad eyes were begging you to come back. “You have to eat.” You huffed a sad laugh.

“I can’t, Sam.” Putting the plate on the sheets you pulled your knees to the chest. “I can’t swallow anything.”

“It’s not good for you, Y/N/N.”

His voice was so sad and weak that for a second you felt like a bitch for doing this to him. But then you noticed the dark spots under his eyes, attenuate face, sharp cheekbones and glassy, heavy brown orbs. You weren’t the only broken person in this bunker. Not thinking much, you pulled him into a hug, wrapping your hands around his neck as he closed you in his. You both needed this as only you two understood the pain. 

“I’m worrying about you,” he murmured and you smiled.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He squeezed you harder but you pulled away. “But…” he looked at you, cupping your cheeks, checking your face; you knew it was pale and your eyes bloody. “Sam, there is no point to worry.”

“Y/N,” he started the defense, shaking his head.

“Listen to me,” you cut him off and looked in his eyes, feeling your own starting to tear up. “I’m dead, Sammy.” 

He flinched, because of both what you said and how you called him; nobody had used this nickname since that night.

“Stop talking like that,” he warned you but you just smiled.

“You miss him too, I know that. And I know that you suffer, but…” you searched for proper words. “Sam, I lost… that night took away everything from me. In two months it’ll be a year and every day I am losing another piece of what’s left inside.” You touched your chest. “I can’t sleep and when I do, I have nightmares. After I wake up, the fact that he’s not here kicks me again and again. I see him everywhere, he never leaves my mind and it hurts. So much of him is left behind. There are moments I even expect him to walk into the room. But he won’t.” You shook your head and sniffed, feeling tears on your cheeks. 

“But it doesn’t mean you have to be a zombie, Y/N.”

“It does, Sam… Because he was my life…” you felt another wave of pain slowly spreading all over you. “And my life is gone.”

There were not many reasons for you to get out of your room. Sometimes you were so hungry it was unbearable, so you would visit the kitchen, steal some fruit or some leftovers. Bathroom was a must, so was a bar full of whiskey; you were torturing yourself with its taste as it reminded you of Dean but it was also an escape.

You didn’t see the outside world for half a year, every 24 hours of the last six months you spent in the bunker. You weren’t sure if you remembered how to hunt. Sam reduced the amount of cases, he didn’t have much more strength than you. At the beginning you were going through books, papers and the internet, making calls, catching witches and every monster that could know something; just to find a way to bring Dean back. All you got was a collection of dead ends, so you quit and locked yourself in your room. You couldn’t do it anymore, not without him. 

After weeks of crying, screaming, falling apart and fighting with nightmares; yearning for him got so intense that only feeling him would stop you from suicide. So one night, in the middle of the panic attack, you rushed out of your room, stumbling and shaking. Inhaling shallowly, you hit his door before you opened it and dropped to your knees in his room. His scent surrounded you, deepening the wound in your heart but healing the longing at the same time. You struck the drawers, picked up his shirt and held it to your nose, inhaling deeply. That’s how Sam found you, clutching Dean’s shirt on the floor, crying silently. 

Since then you were doing this regularly, not sure why. You were floating around every place you ever walked and everywhere you talked. The Impala that stood unused since her owner didn’t come back. You could spend hours there, sitting in the corner of the passenger seat, staring at the place he used to sit in while you were driving down the road. His wide smile on his face while he sang along with old tapes...

The kitchen where you cooked together, the library table you occupied while cleaning weapons or doing research, or drinking. The map table you threw your bags on after coming back from hunt. Dean’s cave where hours of movies were watched and boxes of pizza were emptied. Your room, your bed where the two of you exchanged your love so many times you forgot the life before being with him. 

One day screaming and crying wasn’t enough. The burden was so heavy you needed to get this all out of you or you were sure the first bullet you’d shoot since that night will end your suffering. Finding a piece of paper and a pen you wrote down everything that what was biting you, addressing the letter to Dean. You didn’t finish it right away; from time to time you would add a new sentence or paragraph, writing letters that you’ll never send and he’ll never see. 

Every line was full of emotions, full of pain and memories. Feelings you wanted to reveal, all those words you wanted him to hear. Letters were your pain, tears were your dots. 

The agony went on and on, slowly killing you inside, leaving behind just a walking vessel. If not for Sam, you would have ended this a long time ago but he gave you this little, tiny kick to wake up the next day. But it didn’t mean the suffering was smaller. Actually, sometimes he made it worse. Watching Sam dealing with his brother's death, the death of the man who raised him, who was a home, a strength, a family - it was just another dagger stuck in your heart. Their bond was one of the most incredible, beautiful things you've seen in your life and now it was broken too. 

Finally, you even got to the point where you were laying on your bed, blankly staring at your phone. It didn’t make any sense and you knew it but you wanted to see his name on the screen so bad that your fingers started trembling. Entering any room in the bunker gave you this stupid, false hope he'd be there. You realised how this place was full of him, how wherever your eyes laid on, it reminded you of Dean. And just then you understood - no matter what you do or where you go, it will haunt you. The feeling of loss, of emptiness, of nonsense. The feeling of regret and guilt that you didn't save him, didn't bring him back. 

"I thought I was strong…" you muttered one day, sitting at the library table, bringing Sam's attention to you. He frowned and looked at you, slightly shaking his head. 

"What?" You tightened the grip on the mug with already cold tea inside and with the corner of your eye you noticed him standing up, then sitting on the chair right next to you. "Hey…" he put a hand on your thigh, assuring you it's okay to speak up.

"I thought I was strong, Sam. I thought I could deal with it, I was telling myself it's just a matter of time and it'll be okay, it'll be normal. Time heals the pain right?" you chuckled pitifully. "But…" you swallowed the lump in your throat. "But it's not better at all, Sammy," you whimpered and looked at him.

Tears in your eyes, worry and pain in his. You opened your mouth but before the right words came out, he managed to brush single drops away from your cheeks with his thumbs, giving you a sad smile. 

"Though my heart is broken… it keeps breaking everyday," you cried out and in a second Sam pulled you into his arms, closing in a tight hug. You clawed at his shirt and allowed yourself to ugly cry, wetting the material. He was shushing you, stroking your hair as you were shaking in his arms. "I can't… I can't take it anymore. I- I can't." 

"Shhh, Y/N… it's okay. We'll figure something out," he promised but you knew Sam himself had stopped believing in it. 

There was no more hope, no faith. You tried everything; there was no door left that you could try to walk through. It was the end. 

Your end. 

There was nothing left except the pain. And the only person who could take this pain away, was the one causing it.

A/N: Thank you so much for reading! I hope you liked it. Feel free to leave some feedback, every word from you is gold :) 

Tags: @deanwanddamons @katehuntington @jay-and-dean @winchest09 @talesmaniac89 @roonyxx @bunkerconfessions @akshi8278 @snffbeebee​

If you want to be on my tag list, shoot me in asks or DMs!

[holyluluslibrary]

Library reblog

Not again

Summary: End of story – or not?

Pairing: no real pairing; mainly Dean x Reader

Characters: Rowena, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Chuck, Gabriel, John Winchester, Billy the reaper, Crowley

Warnings: angst, language, violence, characters death, blood, injuries, Chuck being his usual asshole-self, archangel reader

Lyrics are taken from Rage against the machine’s Killing in the name…

A/N: This was written for @deanwanddamons​​1Kfollowerschallenge (Congratulations again!)

My line was: Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me

Word: 1,7 k+

One after another of your allies falls.

You tried to lead the riot against your father, against the creator of the world only to fail – again.

“Over there, Winchester,” you tighten the hold on your archangel blade, spreading your wings to protect the hunter who is one of the last fighters still standing his ground.

“Where is Sammy?” Dean pants, ramming his angel blade into another creature’s neck. “Y/N, you dragged us into that shit. Tell me where my brother is!”

“He’s with Castiel and Jack, Winchester. You better worry about your life,” an endless stream of enemies runs toward you, the hunter and Rowena which doesn’t look good. “Rowena, fall behind. You can’t take another blow.”

The red-head huffs, barely able to stand she throws another spell at the leader of the monsters. 

“I am not dead, angel girl. If I am breathing, I fight. That bastard is the reason for my misery and Fergus’s. He did all of this to get us where he wants us. I’ll not give up,” Rowena’s eyes glow when you dash toward the enemies, using your wings to push them away. 

“Now! We need to break through and make it to Castiel and the others. I can sense my brothers and sisters. We need to be quick, unite our powers before it’s too late,” pointing toward the clearing you nod at Dean who steadies Rowena. “Stay behind me, Winchester. I can’t lose my last true warrior.”

Weiterlesen

[deanwanddamons]

This is the Masterlist for my 1K challenge.

Thank you to everyone who has submitted. I have loved reading every story and I’m sure my followers will too ❤️

This challenge is now closed 😘

Sometimes you need it so bad - @magssteenkamp

Tired - @superfanficnatural

Side by side - @talesmaniac89

What Daddy Says - @jawritter

The Back Seat - @deans-baby-momma

How Do I Let Him Go - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

All of Me - @defenderrosetyler

Behind the Gun - @impala-1979

Apple Pie - @bad268

Getting Into Trouble - @mummybear

More To Me - @becs-bunker

Delicate - @justagirlinafandomworld

My Life Is Gone - @chocolateheart

Honesty - @winchest09

Not Again - @holylulusworld

The Contest - @iwritethingstoo

Patch Me Up - @stiles-o-dylan24

Ghost - @crashdevlin

[talesmaniac89]

Side by Side

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Summary: You go looking for Dean on the eve of another hunter’s death anniversary. Knowing he’s lost, and needing to comfort him.

Word Count: 2542

Triggers: Angst, Talk about death, Loss, Hurt, Grief

Y/N = Your Name | Y/E/C = Your Eye Colour

A/N: Written for @deanwanddamons​​​ 1K Challenge (congrats again hon!). I chose #4: “ If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world” - The story is based loosely on the whole song (Chasing Cars), and uses elements of the lyrics throughout (not marked to not destroy the flow).

--- 

Dean wasn’t in the bunker. 

The sun had already set as you frowned, looking into his empty room before walking quietly towards the library. You knew it’d been a hard day for the hunter. It always was when one of the countless anniversaries of loss that shrouded your calendar came around. For all of you. Though Dean always took it harder than anyone else. Carrying the guilt of every lost friend, hunter, nearly-lover and civilian on broad shoulders, shaking under the weight from the sheer amount of them. 

Yet, he refused to share the hurt. Hiding himself away somewhere to deal with it all on his own in some foolish attempt to shield Sam and you from it. Finding a quiet spot to curl in on himself and let the world weigh him down. As if you wouldn’t be hurting, right along with him, whether or not he let you in on the secret empathy that the hunter saw as a weakness. The soft, kind crack in his armour that he tried to hide behind steely eyes and a set jaw.

Hunting was a lonely life. 

The safe way was to just do everything on your own; to not rely on anyone. To not need anything or anyone but your own two hands and the weapon you clutched in them. But you refused to let Dean freeze himself out and into that lonely harsh bubble of steel, blood and broken hearts. You might not have much, but you had each other. 

And so, you’d set out to find the hunter as soon as the sun set. Knowing he would use the darkness to hide tired eyes and gritted teeth. To choke on loss and hide away unshed tears that overflowed in red rimmed eyes behind the darkness of night and carefully constructed walls. Forcing himself to act tough, even to the shadows in his mind, as he tried to hold himself together. Tried to keep from cracking and shattering into a million little pieces from the many ‘what ifs’ that painted the calendar date in violent shades of red. 

He didn’t have to say it; you knew what was going through his mind. Because the same thoughts echoed through yours with every remembered loss. If he’s just been a little faster, a little better, a little stronger, just a little… More. Then maybe you didn’t have to mark that day in every calendar with a damned final, sharp cross and the shaky scribble of a name you’d never forget. 

Walking past Sam in the library you only stopped to place a warm hand on the younger Winchester’s tense back. The big guy kept his head down and in his book, allowing the words on the page to keep his mind off of his own pain. Sam needed to get lost, and you knew you couldn’t force him back as knuckles whitened around the ancient leather binding. So, with a small nod, lost to hazel eyes as they reread the same words for an uncountable number of times, you stepped away and continued your search. Your own shoulders shaking with silent grief as you took the steps to the front door two at the time. 

You were all hurting, and where Sam needed to forget with a book, you needed Dean. 

---

Stepping into the chilled night air, you looked around aimlessly. 

You knew Dean wouldn’t have gone far. Sure, when he was frustrated, angry or the hurt was still too fresh, he’d go to a bar to drown his heart in a bottle. Or rush you into the next hunt just to hurt someone, to transfer his pain through bullets, cuts and knuckles when it became too much to bear. 

But old hurt, the hastily sutured and scarring wounds of never forgotten loss, those he mourned quietly, carefully and oh so beautifully. Gently gathering the fractured pieces and shaping them into something heartrendingly precious.

Where some people just carried gravestone inscriptions in their heart. Just a loving memory in passing; mother, son, long lost friend, words etched on granite or marble. Only stopping for a split second to share a sad smile at a remembered quirk or moment... Dean shaped himself into a willing monument in their honour, spending the whole night remembering both good and bad, etching it into his skin in place of unshed tears and colouring in old scars with promises he’d made to himself, on the behalf of lost friends. 

Promises of a world without monsters, of a better tomorrow. Of apple pies and warm smiles that he’d never get, though it was all he ever wanted. Even though the heaven that was a normal, quiet life was always just out of reach of calloused trembling fingertips.

Squinting into the darkness, you could just make out the shape of the Impala in the distance. Dean had taken his baby out of the garage and escaped the stifling walls of the bunker fully. Not that you blamed him for running away from the small place you’d carved out for yourself.

Sure, it was your home, but sometimes the thick concrete walls could seem like an early grave. Locking you six feet under and away from humanity. As if you were less than the people you fought to protect. As if you were just another type of monster that needed to be locked away, kept in the shadows and hidden from humanity. Only allowed out when the sun set and there were worse evils to fight, to keep the ungrateful world safe.

Starry skies and the soft chill of night air was a lot more soothing when you were remembering those you’d lost. Concrete and steel only served to remind you of their deaths, not the life they lived before that final full stop that was coming for all of you at some point down the line. Hell, to the people in your life it was just a question of how soon. Retirement wasn’t a luxury you had to look forward to.

You kept your steps soft against the gravel as you walked over to the car. Hands curled into soft shaking fists in the pockets of your coat as you kept your eyes on Dean, leaning against the front window of the impala as he stretched out on the hood of the car. Lying down and watching the stars as the weight of the unfair world pushed him deeper into grief.

“She shouldn’t have died, you know? None of them should’ve died,”

Dean’s eyes were aimed towards the stars above him, but you knew he’d meant the words for you as you came to a full stop by the car. For a second you just stood there. Watching the tired, defeated soldier as he leaned numbly back against the window of the Impala. Letting the only steady thing in his life ground him and have his back as he kept his hurt inside. Returning to the only place the Winchester brothers had been able to call home before you found the Men of Letters bunker. His jaw clenched and shoulders tense to keep from exploding, from screaming at a world that just kept taking more from him. 

You didn’t answer him, didn’t bring up the name of the woman you were both mourning. One of many lost to you. No, instead you just climbed up next to him on the hood and let your shoulder bump against his cold tense arm. Leaning your head back, you focused on the stars above and stayed silent. Neither of you could say her name. It just hurt too much. Every single one of their names hurt too fucking much.

Dean didn’t need words.

He just needed someone to lie by his side, to watch his back as he cursed the cruel world and tried to block out everything it threw at him. Even though he tried to run from it. Even though he’d try to hide, to let the darkness push his body down and away from anyone who could care, who could possibly hurt him ever again. Avoiding any new names that could end up scrawled across the calendar.

Though he tried to pretend he didn’t need anyone, that he was better off alone. You both knew it wasn’t true. Dean deserved family, he deserved to share the burdens and have someone just silently listen to him. Instead of the endless screaming of a world demanding more, more, more. Constantly. Never willing to listen, never willing to lend a helping hand.

“I just wish I could forget all of it. The whole damned world... Sometimes I wonder why we even do this y’know? Pull ourselves up by our bootstraps and go save the world only to get jack shit in return,” Dean’s words were barely a whisper, his voice dark and bitter and aimed at long dead stars millions of lightyears away. His shoulder pushing against yours as he slid further down against the hood of the Impala and put his head level with yours. 

Reaching out, you let your fingers brush against his, not holding his hand, not really. He didn’t need anything to chain him further to his shadows. He just needed to know you were there, for him to hold on to. That you were always there. Ready to let him hide in your heart, drown in your skin or etch wordless confessions onto your fingertips. Even if this quiet wordless something that was between you was never defined. 

Neither of you dared to try and find the words to make it tangible. Even after countless nights spent wrapped up in each other’s arms in a desperate attempt to drown the pain in each other’s skin; carving wordless verses of desperate need into damp skin with teeth and nails across naked backs. Or, like now, lying silently side by side as you let the hurt wash over you in endless waves. Dulling the sharp edges of shattered hearts and broken armour.

The three little words that were locked away in your hearts just weren’t enough and yet way too much at the same time. Way too real and too final. They were words that could mean goodbye in your world. Foreshadowing hurt and pain with three syllables. ‘I love you’ was a burden and a curse when you didn’t know what new names would be etched into your calendars once the sun rose once more and the world kept throwing you curve-balls.

And so, you just lay there. Shoulder to shoulder. Side by side. Forgetting the words and the world. Watching the stars above you and trying to remember how to be happy. 

“Tell me (Y/N)... Is any of this even worth it? All this hurt, and the endless grind? Is there any point to any of this?” 

Wetting your lips, you closed out the stars and world with dark eyelids. Letting every nerve in your body focus in on where Dean’s fingers were carefully holding onto your own, barely clinging to your fingertips as he let his walls fall and invited you into his heart. The small boy he still hid in his heart begging you to tell him the monsters under his bed were all just in his mind. To remind him of why it was all worth it, even as the vastness of the night sky above the two of you made you feel so small. So worthless.

“Remember that little boy down in St. Louis? Thomas?” You asked, your words coming out slow and hesitant as you turned your head. Opening your eyes again and letting your cheek rest against cool glass. Meeting fractured green eyes through the dim darkness. 

Dean didn’t speak. He just watched you, eyes pleading as he waited for you to chase away the name on the calendar that acted as both Memoriam and Memento Mori to your small rag tag group of unwilling soldiers. Careful not to mention the names etched across dates with trembling hands and blurred by past tears staining still wet ink.

“Last month, when we went back down there to hunt that werewolf, I stopped by his house… I didn’t go to their door or anything. Hell, I barely even slowed the car down when I drove past,” You chose your words carefully, painting small circles on the back of Dean’s hand with your thumb as you looked for them. Your (Y/E/C) eyes searched his to make sure he wanted you to continue as you cleared your throat. You could see the hesitant worry in your soldier’s eyes as he remembered the little kid he’d saved, just in the nick of time. You hadn’t lost anyone that hunt, but it had still been too close. 

“But... I saw him there. Outside. Playing with this huge beast of a dog as his mother watched him from the porch. He’s fine Dean. Great even. He’s still alive and smiling,”

“That’s just…” Dean was still lost, still hurting. Trying too hard to forget the vicious world you lived in, to the point where even the good moments, the little things that made the world worth saving, were escaping his fingers as he grasped for your hand. Chasing the small good pieces of light into the palm of your hand and letting his fingers entwine with yours.

“Yeah… It’s just one life. But it’s a life you saved Dean. A little boy who gets to grow up because you were there for him,” Turning until you were fully on your side, you tugged on his hand, making him turn with you. Your legs tangling with his on top of the ebony hood and your forehead pushing against his. Blocking out the real world and inviting him into your world instead. Giving him room to hide in a corner of your heart until he was ready to face whatever bullshit the world was planning to throw at her unwilling sacrifices next.

For a while, silence blanketed the two of you. Dean’s fingers kept playing with yours as he searched your eyes in a hope of finding the strength he’d temporarily lost hidden there, somewhere past your own quiet mourning. Using your own flickering weak hope for humanity to find his own, and light the way forward where the endless dying stars above you were just too far away to manage.

“... He’s fine?” Dean asked, after the silence had stretched on, all hesitant relief and shaky breaths as he searched your eyes for any untruths. Though he knew you’d never lie to him, not about that.

“He is… And we’ll be fine too Dean,” 

You knew he didn’t believe you. Not fully. But that was fine. You both knew the world would keep moving, people would still be lost. That you’d soon have to pull yourself off of the ebony hood that mirrored the starry sky above you and face reality head on again. To keep grinding, keep fighting. For the little victories. For the kids in front yards playing with big dogs. 

Still, for a little while longer. You’d stay there with him. Just lying side by side. Bodies touching as you forgot the world, and let your hearts break and heal. Together.

The world could wait till tomorrow. 

---

Tags:

Dean Winchester Tags: @ria132love​​​​ @woodworthti666​​​​ @defenderrosetyler​​​​  @akshi8278​​​​

Forever Tags: @winchest09​​​​ @hobby27​​​​  @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce​​​​​ 

[bad268]

Apple Pie (Dean Winchester X Reader)

Fandom: Supernatural

Requested: Entry for @deanwanddamons​’s 1k Challenge with the prompt, "When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears. When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears." and @spnquotebingo​. Square Filled: ”There can be no good without evil.”

Warnings: None

Summary: Ex-huntress reader gets back in the game, and Sam learns why Dean loves apple pie.

A/N: This was a pre-written oneshot, and it does not mean I will go back to my normal updates yet. I have been struggling for three weeks with writers block, and I have not had any motivation to write. Most of my stories have zeros feedback, and it makes me feel that I am writing for ghosts, guys. Hopefully, I will have something to upload on June 9 (I have one more pre-written shot). I’m sorry, guys.

My requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Growing up in the hunting world is not the best, any hunter will second that statement. After having your parents, and siblings killed in a fire that was started by the yellow-eyed demon, you wanted to abandon the hunting lifestyle. Unfortunately for you, the person your parents gave custody of you to was a hunter named Bobby Singer. With you being 12 when your family was murdered, you knew a lot about hunting. Your mother never wanted you and your sibling to hunt, but your father felt that you should know how to shoot a gun for self-defense if it came down to it. 

Being with Bobby had some benefits. He introduced you to the Winchesters. In your family, the sibling closest to your age at the time was five; a whole six-year age gap. When you met the Winchesters, you were only a few months younger than Dean, so you two became fast friends. Sam became the little brother you protected, and even though you wanted to leave the lifestyle, you wanted to stay just for then. 

When you turned 18, you told Bobby that you wanted to leave. You wanted to get out of that life and go to college like a normal person. You wanted a normal life not whatever this was. He respected it but said that if he ever needed you, he would call you. On that note, you left. You did not turn back.

Now, seven almost eight years later, Bobby called you saying he and the Winchesters needed help at the cemetery. The last thing you wanted to do when you got back into the hunting life was to be spotted helping the Winchesters. The targets on their backs were bigger than the moon, and you did not want to be associated with that. Alas, you promised Bobby that you would come back if he needed you. 

“Glad you could help us out, Punk,” Bobby said using an old nickname you had. You smiled before grabbing a salt gun from the back of his truck.

“There can be no good without evil, right?” You ran over to the brothers leaving a confused Bobby behind you. You jumped behind a headstone, shielding yourself from the demons flying out of the mausoleum. “What did you two get yourselves into this time?”

“Sam may have accidentally opened a gate to Hell and the demons are flying out,” Dean explained. You groaned at their ignorance before getting up to attempt to close the doors. Dean decided to cover you, so he started shooting demons around you. Sam tried to shoot, but his gun got jammed somehow, and three demons cornered him. You and Dean noticed this and turned to fire at the demons, but a ghost you recognized as John Winchester got the tormentors away from Sam.

“Dean, help me out over here,” you said, seemingly snapping him out of his awe of seeing his father as a demon. You continued to run up to the doors, having a rope in your backpack. You walked up to the doors, hidden behind the headstones and trees. You started to tie the rope around the handle of the door. You watched Dean sprint to the other door, and you tossed in the other end of the rope. He tied it before you both jumped out, pulling the rope closed; locking the doors together. “Next time, do not open gates to the underworld. It’s not going to be pretty now that you guys have to catch and return all the demons that escaped back to Hell.”

“Actually, we were hoping you would come help us out?” Sam asked, fearing the answer you would give. Deep down, he knew you would not stay with them. He really just wanted Dean to shut up about his crush on you, and stop Dean from hooking up with so many girls in whatever town they're in. “Please?”

“You two are big boys. You guys don’t need me,” You state with a roll of your eyes and a frown evident on your features. “Besides, I left this life years ago. I do not want to be a part of it anymore.”

“Come on, (Y/N/N). You are one of the most resourceful hunters we know,” Dean pleads. You turned to walk away, but he grabbed your wrist, turning you into his body. He leaned into your ear and whispered, “When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears. When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears."

“You know better than anyone, Dean,” You dropped your head, but he used his other hand to lift your face up and lay his forehead to yours. “I don’t want anyone else to get hurt.”

“If you join us, we would be stopping the demons faster than ever. With your hunting hacks, Sam’s research, and my looks,” You laughed lightly before he continued, “we would be unstoppable.” He brought his lips to meet yours. It was not overly sweet, but it was passionate enough for you to feel how much Dean wants you to follow. Your kiss went on for a few moments only for it to be broken when Sam cleared his throat. “Come with me. I won’t lose you again.”

“As long as I get my apple pie,” you laughed before racing towards your car.

“That's my girl!” Dean shouted before chasing after you.

“So that’s where Dean got his obsession with apple pie,” Sam said thoughtfully as he walked slowly to the Chevy Impala he spends the majority of his day in.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2020. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

How Do I Let Him Go?

Summary- 1.7k Dean x Y/N. Dean and Sam have one last job to do, and although not difficult, it hits a few personal notes with Dean. Angst. Mentions of Death. Written for @deanwanddamons​ 1k Follower Challenge. Congrats on your mile stone babes! Prompt is in Bold.

It should have been a regular easy and shut case, Baby bring them into town, they hunt the creepy crawly that reared its ugly head, grab a burger and beer, then gone.

Should have been, but Dean wasnt placing his chips on that. Cause they were the Winchesters after all. Sammy and Dean, hunters extraordinaire.

So when you showed up in there motel doorstep after a case, rain pouring in the backdrop, your hair plastered to your face and dripping a puddle on the hooker inn motels ragged door mat, who was he to close the door in your face. “please, I need you.” Well, Dean considered looking at you, who am I to say no to a woman when shes uttering those words?

A step back, he allowed you in, going straight to the bathroom, and retrieving a towel to help you dry off, Pressing your face into the rough material and dragging it up into your hair, giving it a tousle, you ask “Wheres Sam?”

“He went to go get us some food, but he will be back soon.” Dean perched on the edge of his bed. “But why are you here Y/N? We already finished up our business here.”

“Yea with that, but I got a personal one.” You started, and fell into the past, explaining how you ONCE had a brother, and older overprotective brother whom you loved very much, even if at times he could be overbearing.

Dean cleared his throat, immensely glad right at the moment Sammy was not here, he would probably have a comment or two to add, although Dean considered himself pretty awesome and lax for the most part.

“You say Once... what happened?” Dean questioned when you paused, fisting your hand in the towel. Dean moved over to sit next to you, letting his hand brace against your back, the whole demeanor of your face had shifted, screwing up a bit. God the pain was still fresh after all this time, the guilt a heaviness that crushed your heart, sneaking up occasionally to leave you gasping for air.

“My boyfriend at the time wasnt a great person. And I was young, insecure, frankly I allowed myself to remain in a abusive relationship for the sake of ‘I love him’, I didnt know the difference then between Love and Control. Jacob tried to get me to see, but...” You shrug “I was blind to it. It got bad one night, and I called Jacob to come get me. Ron kept a gun in our apartment that I had no idea about, and pulled it on us when Jacob came to collect me.” You wring that towel in your hand until you could feel the weave give slightly, loosening enough to keep it from ripping and look over at Dean, who at this point stayed quiet, allowing you this chance at a weakness. “shot him, there was no saving him. He was gone before he hit the floor and Ron panicked. Ditched the gun and bolted. Police picked him up an hour later. I buried my brother, thinking I would never see him again. Fuck was I wrong.”

Dean had a feeling he knew where this was going, but pushed you to continue anyways. “But....?”

“You know, if I didnt just see you and Sam clean up at the school, I wouldnt be telling you this. But I see him and, shit I dont know how its gotten this way. Hes my brother, I should want to see him right? But the last two times.” You swipe at your face when the tears start making tracks, and Dean quick as ever reached towards the night stand, grasping a few tissues from the box and handed them over. “Thanks, right after I see him, my current significant other gets hurt or worst .”

“Worst?” Deans brows lift in question, his green eyes sparking in anger at your situation, this was obviously a situation that needed to be dealt with.

“First it was an accident, my boyfriend after Ron. Just enough to drive us apart. Casey, he was in a bad car accident, and when he was discharged, he grew distant. Once healed, he moved out. Then Tony... Fuck we had a row one night, and we both ended up getting physical with one another. I saw Jacob for a moment over his shoulder, I even almost convinced myself I didnt, it was my imagination, but Tony collapsed right in front of me. Doctors claimed his heart just blew, but he was the healthiest man I knew, It just didnt add up.”

It was this moment the Sam arrived back. Both of you glanced at the door when it clicked open and he stepped in, not realizing you were there for a moment. “Dean they didnt have those fries you wanted, but I did get- oh! sorry, Errr, I didnt know you had company.” giving a questioning look to Dean if he should leave, the older brother put that to rest quickly.

“This is Y/N, and after seeing how today went, she needs some help.” Dean gave Sam the basics, and Y/N just stayed quiet for the moment, Sams gaze fell back to you with a hint of sorrow, and gave a nod. “Yea, definitely sounds like something we can  help you with.” Giving a reassuring smile, he set the food down, and shrugged from his coat. Going to some of there supplies, he dug out an Emf reader, switching it on with a buzz of lights flaring red on top then settling back to just make a soft buzzing sound. “You dont mind do you?” Y/N gave a light shake of your head and Sam was quick to fall into an explanation while Dean pulled away, thinking back on all you told them.

“Your brother... Buried or Cremated?” Dean questioned once Sam finished. “Buried” You say simply and the two brothers exchange a look. “Where?” Sam asks and you tell them the local cemetery. So this will be an easy case, Dean considers, but he cant help but feel a tinge of regret for the dejected way you look, sitting on the edge of the bed your hands wringing together. Sam starts gathering stuff, and Dean shrugs on a coat, grabbing some salt and circling one of the chairs in the room with it.

“We will take care of it tonight Y/N, but I need you to stay right here.” Dean had you sit, and your careful not to break the line. Not sure why, but it seemed necessary. Before the man could step away, you reached out, and the tears that brimmed your eyes, although sadness were relief. “Thank you...its not going to hurt Jacob right... what you and Sam do?” You say simply and those green eyes of his soften, knowing what you were thanking him for what your asking him. Please, dont hurt my brother, I still love him, regardless of what hes done. His voice was gruff as he nodded. “Its going to be okay, we promise.” And with a slight squeeze of his hand, he let you go.

It was just as they suspected, Jacobs spirit had been unable to move on, stuck in this world with the belief that You were his job to watch over, just as Sammy was his job to watch over. Had been since he was 5 and John shoved that baby in his arms. Dean sighed as he was stuck in his thoughts about it, dumping salt over Jacobs body, Sam keeping watch with the sawed off shot gun. “Think this will take care of him for good Dean?”

“Of course Sammy, salt and burn. Cleanses everything.” Dean grunted while climbing out and digging in his pockets, he pulled out a matchbook from the hotel room. “Dad taught us that.” yanking a match and flicking it to spark, he waited till the fire was hot, crackling up the remaining matches and tossed it in. It went white hot in a quick blaze, then a steady orange, burning through even the rain pouring around them. It was morning by the time they were able to refill the hole.

Returning to the room, Sam and Dean found you wide eyed, perched on the edge of your seat. “Its-its done?” You question, a bit of a hesitant stutter in your voice, and Dean drags his foot through the salt. “Just one last check Y/N” Sam informs, and he digs out his Emf reader again, giving it a swipe over your body, clean. There was no warning flashes. Your eyes are wide as you look between the two men and Dean gives a nod. “Its all over Y/N, hes moved on.”

“Thank you” Your tears just cant be held back, and you hugged them both. “I dont know how to thank you. “

“Just stay safe” Dean says, and you take your leave.

Days later, Dean had gotten Baby packed, checked over the room, and was ready to head out of town. It was quiet between the two brothers, working as they always have, and probably always will. Riding out of town, passing the cemetery Dean catches sight of you standing at the freshly dug grave, and he whipped the car around right quick.

“We forget something?” Sam asks, and Dean just utters. “Gotta check on something.” It was then Sam caught sight of what he saw and nodded in understanding. Hoping out of the car, Dean made his way to where you were standing, his hands in his pockets.

“Y/N, you okay?” He asks quiet like as he comes to stand next to you. Your hand you have a simple flower, and you rest it atop of Jacobs stone.

“Thought my heart is broken, It still breaks everyday.” You say in response, looking up at Dean.”I thought I would feel different once this was over, but Dean, it still hurts. I miss him, even after everything, I know I should be happy, hes at peace. But now how do I let him go?” you confessed. “I dont know how to... “

Dean knew... that pain that ate at you, it never fully goes away, but becomes a part of your life, just like breathing. He doesnt have the heart to tell you that though, and his arms envelopes you, leaving you to sink into his embrace and holds you steady as the sobs rack your body, falling into you sorrow in this strangers arms.

tags- @official-and-unstable-satan​ @kimisama1989​ @p8tn0lish​ @deanwanddamons​

[superfanficnatural]

Tired

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Male!Reader

Summary: After deciding to leave the bunker, Dean confronts you and asks why, leading to some harsh truths to be told.

A/N: This is for @deanwanddamons​ 1K writing challenge, I have chosen Prompt #1- “If I told you, all the words I had to say, would they matter or would you simply turn and walk away.” This is 1,595 words, hope you enjoy!

Warnings: Angst, Depressed Reader, Fluff, Implied Smut.

Gif isn’t mine

You couldn’t do it anymore. Watching Dean bring back girl after girl to the motels. Watching Sam’s face as he looked at you in pity. Watching Dean’s pleased face walk in the morning after. It was too much, you feared your heart couldn't take it much longer, for you had been in love with the green eyed hunter for as long as you could remember. Meeting him on a mutual hunt and deciding to work together, you had fallen for him. Day after day you found more reasons to fall deeper and deeper. Falling deeper into depression at the same time. You knew Dean wasn’t gay, he never spared another man a second look, hell, you thought he was homophobic. You made it painfully obvious that you liked him, Sam noticing but Dean not having any kind of reaction. You took it as rejection, him not interested in you at all.

You heard Sam yell out from your bedroom door, quickly wiping your tears you responded, “Yeah Sam? What’s up?”

“We are going to head over to the market to get some stuff we need, anything you want?”

“Nah, I’m good.”

You heard him slowly retreat from your door, hearing the bunker door open and close. You had been thinking about leaving for a while, not wanting to suffer anymore. So you got out of your bed and peered into Dean’s room, seeing it empty, you concluded that he had gone with Sam. Perfect, you could leave without having to explain why face to face. You wrote a short note explaining that you couldn’t stay at the bunker anymore, apologizing and saying you loved them both. 

Finishing up your packing, you made your way to the garage, intending to take one of the cars you had stolen a while back and leave. Passing by the library, you didn’t glance towards it, for you knew if you looked, you would begin to cry. Hours on hours spent there with Sam and Dean, researching, having a drink, laughing together. The memories would crush you, so you walked right past.

“Where are you going?”

You froze, slowly turning your head to see Dean’s concerned expression looking at you from the library.

“I uh- I’m,” You knew you had to do this.

“I’m leaving.”

“Wait what? What do you mean you're leaving?” Dean asked hurriedly, shooting out of his seat and making his way over to you, noticing your bag slung over your shoulder.

“I can’t stay here any longer Dean, I need to leave.” 

“Why? Tell me why you're leaving.” hurt flashing across his face. You knew Dean always thought that anyone close to him either dies or leaves; which is why you wished he had left with Sam so you wouldn’t have to tell him yourself.

“I can’t Dean, I just can’t.” you whispered, tears escaping your eyes.

He came up to you and put his hand on your cheek, slowly caressing it and wiping your tears.

“Y/N talk to me, let me help you, whatever it is.” he softly added.

You were shocked, Dean had never expressed this much care or softness to you that you let yourself go for a moment, leaning into his hand. Thinking back to it, he knew why you were leaving, there was no way he didn’t know that you were gay and was interested in him. Your anger slowly built up, how dare he say he could “help” you with what was wrong when he knows damn well what it is and that he won’t. You ripped his hand away from your face and took a step back, dropping your duffel to the floor.

“Are you kidding me? You know damn well why I’m leaving Dean.” you said with venom in your voice.

He had the audacity to act like that hurt him, taking a step back.

“Y/N I don’t know why you’re leaving, there’s no reason why you should!” he shouted.

“You’re not going to make me say it Dean, because I won’t”

“Say what Y/N?! What the hell did I do to you?” 

“If I told you, all the words I had to say, would they matter or would you simply turn and walk away.” you said, your energy depleted, hopelessness lacing your tone.

“What are you talking about?” he questioned, still pretending to be surprised.

“You're really going to make me say it, fine.” you began. “I have been in love with you for five fucking years Dean. Five years I have given you signs but never crossing that line, in case you didn’t like me back so I wouldn’t ruin what we had. Five years of you bringing bar whores back to the motel and walking in to see my broken face and just ignoring it!” you shouted. 

Tears were streaming down your eyes, voice cracking and posture slouched, defeated.

“I’m tired Dean, tired of always being there for you in your darkest times just to be brushed off the next day. Tired of waiting for you, praying for you to show me interest. But I know now, you have never and will never like me back. It’s just not who you are.” he opened his mouth to respond but you cut him off.

“But it’s ok, I’ve come to terms with it. However, I can’t stay here any longer, I just can’t. So I’m leaving, I would say call me if you need help with a case but I don’t want to take the chance for my heart to be broken again, I can’t. Goodbye, Dean Winchester, I hope you can find love and manage to get out of this life, because if anyone deserves it, it’s you.” you finished, grabbing your duffel and walking away.

You reached the garage door and grabbed the handle, being stopped by Dean. He twisted your body around, the duffel dropping to the floor, his hands on either side of your head. You looked into his eyes and saw guilt, guilt with... vulnerability? His eyes were shining as bright as ever, you managed to catch yourself before being lost in them.

“Dean, what do you-”

“-What did you say.” he cut you off.

“I can’t be here anymore because you will never like me-”

“-No, not that. What did you say to me before that.” he questioned, a... hopeful look in his eyes?

“Dean, I-”

“-Y/N please, what did you say.” he pleaded.

“I-I said that I... love you.” you reluctantly admitted.

You couldn’t say anything else for he had successfully shut you up by forcing his lips onto yours. Your eyes widened and you stiffened up, unable to hold yourself back any longer after a few moments, you reciprocated the kiss. His plump and soft lips a perfect match for yours, fitting together like pieces in a puzzle. He licked your bottom lip, asking for permission which you instantly granted, moaning at his skill with his tongue. It was the most sensual, mind-blowing kiss you had ever had in your entire life. The amount of passion and love, unbridled love, made you start to tear up, a tear escaping your eye. He pulled back and kissed the tear away, littering butterfly kisses all over your cheeks and eyes. 

Pulling back, “Y/N, I am so sorry baby. I have always thought that you were attractive, always wanted you. I was just scared, I had never felt this way about anyone else before, certainly not another man.” he admitted. You cringed at his last statement but let him continue, not believing your ears.

“I thought maybe, if I could just get you out of my mind that I could get rid of these feelings. I slept with girl after girl, trying to get you off of my mind, but it never worked. Every time I always imagined you on your knees, sucking my cock. You underneath me while I pleased you.”

You swallowed hard, both confused at his confession, but also hardening in your pants at the arousal that coursed through you.

“I was a dumbass, not understanding how much pain I put you through, and I am so freaking sorry Y/N. But if you let me, I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you and loving you with everything that I have.”

You froze, breath catching in your throat, did he just...?

“Yes, I have been in love with you for as long as I can remember Y/N. I’m not afraid anymore, after seeing you walk away, I knew that I couldn’t live without you in my life.” he softly ended, his hand reaching out and softly rubbing your cheek.

You couldn’t believe what was happening, Dean... loved you? 

He leaned back down, his lips softly meeting yours once again. This time, you let yourself fall into the kiss instantly, feeling the amount of love that he was pouring into the kiss. That was when you knew, he really did love you.

He pulled away and leaned his forehead onto yours, both of you wearing huge smiles on your faces.

“Come on,” he said grabbing your duffel off of the floor. “You actually made this easier, now we can just unpack your stuff in my room instead of moving it all.” he said with a goofy smile on his face.

You chuckled and nodded, still not able to speak. 

Making your way into his room, he closed the door behind him and turned back to you, “I love you, Y/N, and now, I’m going to show you just how much I do.”

[deanwanddamons]

1K Follower Challenge

Thank you to everyone who has got me to 1K followers. I only started this blog 5 months ago, and started writing at the same time, so I am overwhelmed by this! I have had so much love and support it’s unreal and have made some amazing friends along the way ❤️

So to celebrate, I have decided to go with ‘song lyric’ prompts.

“This is the same as her 500 follower challenge” I hear you say?

But there’s a twist. For the first 5 people that ask for a prompt, you can choose another prompt from the list and I will write you a drabble with either Dean or Sam - your choice!

These are lines from some of my favorite songs (I have a very eclectic taste in music so they will be from all kinds of artists and all kinds of genres!) and I would like you to use the words as the basis of your fic.

It can be angsty, smutty, fluffy it’s up to you, but MUST be inspired by just this one line. It doesn’t matter if you’re familiar with the song or not. If you are then awesome, if you are not then it will be interesting to see your interpretation of it out of context. You don’t have to use the actual words themselves in the fic, but if you want to, and they fit then carry on.

Rules under the tab

You must be following me to enter

One prompt per person but three people can have the same prompt, please send me an ask to claim your choice

If you are one of the first 5 to respond with a prompt, I will answer your ask, and you can choose a different prompt and character and I will write you a drabble.

I would prefer all fics to be reader insert/second POV

There’s no minimum word count but there’s a max of 3K

If your fic is more than 500 words please use the keep reading tab

I will accept any and all smut except age play and toilet stuff, so PLEASE tag accordingly

You can write for any SPN character(s) (or actors/actresses) but I would prefer Dean or Sam or TVD character (s) (or actors/actresses) but I would prefer Damon or Stefan.

Any pairings are welcome. J2, Destial and Sabriel etc are fine by me and of course you can have more than 2 people involved.

Tag your work with the hashtag #deanwanddamons1Kfollowerschallenge and tag me in the author’s notes.

There’s no real deadline but if you want to be included in the masterlist then I’ll be creating this on 1st August 2020, so please post before then.

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Song Lyrics Prompts

1. ‘If I told you, all the words I had to say, would they matter or would you simply turn and walk away’ @impala-1979​ and @stiles-o-dylan24​ and @superfanficnatural​

2. ‘Though my heart is broken, it keeps breaking everyday’ @chocolateheart and @sweater-daddiesdumbdork​ and @laphirablack​

3. ‘Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me’ @holylulusworld​ and @winchester-fantasies​ and @jawritter​

4. ‘It I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lie with me and just forget the world’- @talesmaniac89​ and @scarlettwitcher​​ and @katehuntington​

5. ‘You lost more than that in my backseat baby’ @deans-baby-momma​ and @becs-bunker​ and @squirrelnotsam​

6. ‘Like a virgin, touched for the very first time’- @ne-gans​ and @hella-aj-the-tricksters-son​ and @justagirlinafandomworld​

7. ‘Every time I think of you, I touch myself’- @iwritethingstoo​ and @snffbeebee​ and @flamencodiva​

8. ‘When you cried, I'd wipe away all of your tears. When you'd scream, I'd fight away all of your fears’ - @official-and-unstable-satan​ and @bad268​ and @defenderrosetyler​

9. ‘Well if you wanted honesty, that's all you had to say’- @crashdevlin​ and @winchest09​ and @firefly-in-darkness​

10. ‘Sometimes you need it so bad. It's enough to drive a young girl mad’ @mummybear​ and @magssteenkamp​ and @simsadventures​

[magssteenkamp]

Sometimes you need it so bad. It’s enough to drive a young girl mad...

Pairing: Dean x Y/N, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 1170

Warnings: Smut 18+ readers only, please... Masturbation, voyeurism, and swearing I guess that’s about it? 

A/N: This is my contribution to @deanwanddamons​ 1K Follower Challenge congratulations hun you deserve it!! Hope ya like this little ditty...😏

Disclosure, collage is my and googles work and as for the gif according to google the credit goes to Saveraloria.livejournal.com on Pinterest.

Summary: After a particularly long hunt where Y/N and Dean had no time to themselves, Y/N is so frustrated on the long drive back to the bunker that she decides to take matters into her own hands since she’s so horny shes going mad and maybe even give Dean a little show along with it...

Sam’s snoring softly in the front seat while Dean is driving back to the bunker after a long salt and burn hunt where they just could not get enough info on where the remains of the ghost were to make it an easy case, it was finally over and Y/N was so frustratingly horny that her pussy was constantly achy and slick. The fact that during the whole hunt she and Dean had no private time compared with the flirting and heated looks that he kept sending her she was just about going mad herself...

They were about an hour away from the bunker and since it was a warm summer day she had on one of her few short strappy sundresses with ties in front. The windows were open and the warm breeze was playing with Y/C/H and Y/N smiled because she always loved having the breeze in her face, it was one of those peaceful things that she had learned to appreciate, though this time her appreciation didn’t last long. As the breeze catches her sundress, it lifts up and gives Dean an eye full of her tanned upper thigh, she caught Dean’s heated emerald eyes watching her in the rearview mirror with a cheeky grin and with just that look Y/N had enough. She was so frustrated that she squirmed in her seat and knew that her black thong was already wet and ruined with the slick pooling between her legs... 

Waiting until Dean’s eye’s return back to the road, Y/N smirks to herself and carefully shimmies out of the soaked thong. Checking to make sure that Sam was still snoring away happily in a deep sleep she softly calls Dean’s name in a breathy voice. Immediately his eyes snap up to the mirror and Y/N dangles the black thong on the end of her finger with the dark patch clearly visible where they are soaked through. With a wicked smile, she drapes the thong over his shoulder letting him smell her. 

Then she leans back again making sure she is in full view of Dean and slowly spreads her legs open wide. The sundress just barely covers her slick pussy and looking up to make sure that the road was open in front of them and that Dean was watching her, she places her hands on her thighs slowly dragging the dress up giving him a full view of her glistening slick pussy. Dean gives a deep groan when he sees Y/N slowly move both hands back down, opening herself wide for him to see her slick entrance and already swollen clit.

This makes Dean say Y/N in a warning tone glancing over to Sam but by this time Y/N is so far gone that she really doesn’t care anymore. She slowly runs her index and middle fingers in a V first down and then up the sides of her clit to her entrance, gathering up slick. Doing this a couple of times teasing herself until her fingers are soaked as well, she slowly starts to circle her clit first soft little strokes but it feels so good to finally get some friction that she speeds up, legs trembling slightly when she catches just the right spot. 

Y/N looks up to see Dean alternating between looking at the road ahead, a snoring Sam and her glistening with slick fingers working her clit. She also noticed that her thong had disappeared from his shoulder. “Looking for this?” Dean asks her and makes a show of pushing his nose in it and dragging in a deep breath groaning, then bunching it up and putting it in his pocket. Giving her a look that makes a new wave of her slick pool between her legs, she feels it slowly leaking out between ass cheeks. She moans Dean’s name sliding her fingers down to her entrance, pushing in first one finger and then the other into her soaked hole. 

She starts off slowly dragging them in and out of her but seeing Dean’s eyes heat up and bite his plump bottom lip makes her speed up and adds a third finger grinding her palm against her throbbing clit. Making her hips jump off the seat pushing into her hand she pulls at the lace-up ties at the front of her dress and pushes it aside got get to one of her breasts, achingly pebbled nipple in full view of Dean who has started to squirm in his seat making low growling noises. 

Y/N can feel the burning coil tightening in her lower abdomen and speeds up mewling when she pinches her nipple between thumb and forefinger rolling it. She’s so close, she curls her fingers in her pussy and pushes up against her g-spot and that’s it. She cums so hard that she bites her lip tasting blood to keep from screaming out, her back bowing with the strength of it and her pussy clenching hard around her fingers. Slowly she starts to relax and pulls out her soaked fingers looking up to see Dean hungrily looking at her. Lifting her hand up so that he can see her slick she makes a show of licking her fingers clean tasting her own salty sweetness and making Dean groan her name out frustrated. 

Finally down from her high Y/N starts fixing her dress, lacing up the front ties and grabs the baby wipes that’s always tucked away in the Impala's door to clean herself up and pull her dress down. Looking Dean in his lust blown forest green eyes Y/N asks sweetly “You enjoyed the show, honey?” Dean gives you a dangerous look but before he could answer Sam starts stirring and wakes up. “Hey, there sleepy head!” Y/N says cheerily “We are almost home.” Dean grumbles under his breath. Sam looks at him curiously, rubbing his eyes and yawns.  “What’s up with you?” 

Before Dean can answer though Y/N interjects “Oh he’s just tired and hungry, you know how “hangry” he gets when he can't eat.” she giggles. Dean gives her “that” dirty look that has slick pooling between her thighs again in anticipation... “Just wait until we get home, you will be feeding me…”

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***FEEDBACK IS GOLD***

Tags: @deanwanddamons  @jay-and-dean​ @roonyxx​  @thehunterwholived​ @waywardsistershy​

[holylulusworld]

Not again

Summary: End of story – or not?

Pairing: no real pairing; mainly Dean x Reader

Characters: Rowena, Sam Winchester, Castiel, Chuck, Gabriel, John Winchester, Billy the reaper, Crowley

Warnings: angst, language, violence, characters death, blood, injuries, Chuck being his usual asshole-self, archangel reader

Lyrics are taken from Rage against the machine’s Killing in the name…

A/N: This was written for @deanwanddamons​​1Kfollowerschallenge (Congratulations again!)

My line was: Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me

Word: 1,7 k+

One after another of your allies falls.

You tried to lead the riot against your father, against the creator of the world only to fail – again.

“Over there, Winchester,” you tighten the hold on your archangel blade, spreading your wings to protect the hunter who is one of the last fighters still standing his ground.

“Where is Sammy?” Dean pants, ramming his angel blade into another creature’s neck. “Y/N, you dragged us into that shit. Tell me where my brother is!”

“He’s with Castiel and Jack, Winchester. You better worry about your life,” an endless stream of enemies runs toward you, the hunter and Rowena which doesn’t look good. “Rowena, fall behind. You can’t take another blow.”

The red-head huffs, barely able to stand she throws another spell at the leader of the monsters. 

“I am not dead, angel girl. If I am breathing, I fight. That bastard is the reason for my misery and Fergus’s. He did all of this to get us where he wants us. I’ll not give up,” Rowena’s eyes glow when you dash toward the enemies, using your wings to push them away. 

“Now! We need to break through and make it to Castiel and the others. I can sense my brothers and sisters. We need to be quick, unite our powers before it’s too late,” pointing toward the clearing you nod at Dean who steadies Rowena. “Stay behind me, Winchester. I can’t lose my last true warrior.”

“Go ahead, we are close behind,” Dean pants, close to exhaustion. “I will not give in, not this time. Not again.”

You strike through another wave of enemies, smirking when the next ones wait for their chance but are too scared to get close to an angry archangel.

Your blade covered in blood, just like your white wings you look at the leader of the army God sent after you and the last remaining members of the resistance.

“Come and get me, if you are brave enough, if not, let me and my allies pass,” your voice let the trees close by shake and the leader jerks his head toward the woods, letting you and the others pass.

“Impressive, sweetheart,” Dean groans when the pain subsides after you pressed your fingers to his forehead, healing his wound.

“Next time tell me you are injured. I am not used to fighting among mortals, Dean. I can’t keep track of every scratch,” Rowena snickers at your words whilst you press your fingers to her head. “Not bad, witch. I dare any enemy to get close to an angry Rowena MacLeod.”

“I am honored,” the witch coughs, smirking as Dean rolls his eyes. “Hearing those words leave an archangels lips, impressive.”

“Let’s roll, Y/N. I don’t think Chuck will like you made the enemies leave us alone for a heartbeat,” Dean looks toward the clearing, feeling relief wash over him when Sam, Jack, and Castiel rush toward your position.

“The enemies retreated, for now,” Castiel informs you, reminding you of better times, the good old times in which your father, the creator of the world wasn’t a murderous and treacherous bastard.

“I know, but not for long. Chuck will send more, Castiel. I need you to tell me how many of us are still alive.”

Castiel swallows thickly, pointing toward another clearing he closes his eyes, not daring to say a word when you fly toward the place where your brothers and sister fell.

“All of them…,” surrounded by your fallen family you feel a strong presence, but you do not pay him attention. “You killed all of them…”

“They were my army before yours,” Chuck shrugs, pointing toward the angels on the ground. “I had to show them what happens when they follow the wrong leader.” He casually walks through the angels blood, not caring they were once his children.

Those who died are justified, for wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites

 You justify those that died by wearing the badge, they're the chosen whites

“So, you justify you killed my brothers and sister only as they followed me. Only as they chose to fight than going down without a word, without resistance?” Your wings spread and Chuck can feel the power radiate through your vessel, the one Rowena created for you.

“Strong, undeniable, my dear. I never imagined you, my daughter would be the last remaining archangel. Lucifer, Michael, yes, but you,” Chuck smirks, “no, not in my wildest imagination I thought you would go against me.”

“Well, things change, Chuck,” you spat, tightening the hold on your archangel blade. “I am not your loyal lapdog waiting for orders any longer. This is the end, and I am not willing to give in. Not now, not ever!” The earth vibrates when you scream the words, ramming your wings into the ground.

“It’s still time, my dear child,” circling you like prey Chuck jerks his head toward Dean and the others. “They don’t want to follow my rules, so they have to go. End this insanity, come back to your rightful place and I’ll forgive you your disobedience.” 

It’s your turn to smirk when Chuck starts to nervously shift from one foot to the other.

“You know, this vessel is special, daddy,” your eyes narrow when you point the tip of your blade toward God himself. “I am more powerful than any other archangel. For now, I’ll retreat to keep my allies safe and to mourn the loss of my brothers and sister, father but,” you dip your head when Dean steps toward you, ready to fight by your side.

“Y/N, we should go, for now,” the hunter murmurs, looking around the battlefield. “We lost more than we won…”

“I know,” you feel rage taking over so you step close to the mortal man, letting his closeness calm you. “One last thing, daddy.”

“What is it my child?” Chuck smirks, stepping onto one of your brother’s burned wings. “Do you want my forgiveness or not?”

Laughing bitterly you shake your head, wrapping one wing around Dean to protect him at all cost. “Fuck you, I won’t do what you tell me, Chuck. God is dead, long live rebellion.”

Chuck expected you to run away, to protect your, as he calls them, little friends. What he did not expect was for you to dash forward to ram the archangel blade you forged from your brothers and sisters’ archangels’ blades into his chest.

“Do you feel this, father? It’s your creation killing you,” you twist the blade in his chest, surrounding his body with your wings when he starts to glow. “Run, Dean. Whatever you do, don’t stop. Get away from here. I’ll take the blow.”

Light seeps through your wings and Dean runs toward his brother, calling his  name. “We need to go, now,” the hunter yells, urging the others on to leave this place.

Your wings start to vibrate, and the earth shakes when you shove the blade deeper into Chuck’s chest, reaching the core of his power. “Pathetic little man, not knowing when his story is over.”

A scream leaves Chuck’s lips when he grips your shoulders, looking at you in shock. “My dearest daughter. How could you?” 

Light bursts out of Chuck’s chest, pushing you off him when he falls to the ground, letting earth shake violently. 

The light spreads out, turns any monster it touches into dust. You want to watch Chuck disappear, but the light is blinding and you need to cover your eyes. Wrapping your wings around your body you kneel to soften the blow, but it never comes.

God sinks to the ground, smiling when you blink at him. “I knew you can make it, my child. Let me grand you one last wish.” The last light illuminates the sky and the field turns green again. The blood is gone, just like the dead angels.

When you look at Chuck again, he fades away, never breaking eye contact until he’s gone. Your hands shake, but you pick the blade up, pressing it to your chest.

“My brothers, my sisters, we made it.” Sniffling you look around the clearing, remembering your family.

“We did, indeed,” Gabriel smirks, giving you a wink. “I don’t know what I did, but you did a great job, sister. I mean, you just dusted dad.”

“How can you be here?” the trickster smirks, pointing toward the woods as the angels step out of the darkness, looking at you before they kneel. “I don’t understand, Gabriel. How?”

“Dad, he granted you one last wish. He brought them back, all of them. Not only the archangels but the people your friends missed,” Gabriel jerks his head toward Dean who looks at his friends, family, and allies who walk toward the small group. 

“Why did he do this? I don’t get it. He wanted all of this gone, and now he brings them all back? This doesn’t make sense.” You look at the angels, still kneeling before you and an uneasy feeling makes your stomach churn. They don’t kneel for you or Gabriel...

“That son of a bitch!” You slam your wings into the ground, making the angels gasp and Dean run back toward you. “He wants to repeat the cycle, Gabriel.”

“Exactly, sweetheart,” Dean huffs. “He brought everyone back, Billy said this will cause chaos, destruction and if we get lucky - hell on earth.”

When Billy steps closer, standing next to you she frowns. “This is chaos, Y/N. What are we going to do now?”

“We will use the ‘gift’ God gave us wisely”, you grip your archangel blade tightly, watching Lucifer and Michael step toward you and Gabriel. “I don’t think he wanted us to survive so we will fuck with his story once again.”

“Ready if you are sister,” Gabriel slides his archangel blade out of his sleeve, looking at Lucifer. “This time, I’ll win, brother.”

“Need any help?” Rowena smirks, looking at her son who grins wickedly. “I guess we are back to business, mother. How about we give diddle-dee and diddle-dum a warm welcome?” Crowley snickers, cracking his neck.

“Can that son of a bitch not stay dead for like five minutes,” Dean groans, nodding at his brother.

“Son, I can tell, being back is not as pleasant as I thought. How about we show those archangels who the Winchesters are?” John takes the angel blade Mary offers to him.

“Ready if you are,” you spread your wings, raising your sword before you lead your allies into another battle. You only hope, it’s the last one…

Tags in reblog

Divider by @writeyourmindaway​

[deanwanddamons]

Had fun doing the 1st one so let's go again! I'll do #144 this time.

Ahh I’m so glad you enjoyed! Here’s number 144 🥰

Rock SPN Flash Fan Fic Challenge

[deanwanddamons]

An entry to my 1K follower challenge.

Ohhh girl! That hurt 💔💔 The way you described Dean’s insecurities was perfect. And because of them, he lost someone else.

Loved the way you used the prompt too!

Thank you so much for taking part 😘

Ghost

Author’s Note: Written for @deanwanddamons follower challenge. Prompt is in bold (and right at the beginning lol)

Summary: Dean’s girlfriend is done with his bullshit.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word count: 511

Story Warnings: angst, breakups, Dean fuckin’ things up with his insecurity

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Well, if you wanted honesty, that’s all you had to say, sweetheart,” Dean snapped.

“Of course I want honesty, you ass!” you exclaimed, shaking your head at him. “You think I want to be lied to? Who wants to be lied to?”

“A lot of people! A lot of people don’t want to know what’s really going on in their lives because they-”

“You unbelievable asshole!” You threw your hands up and turned away from him. You took a deep breath and shook your head. “Just…say it, Dean. Just say it.” You were met with silence. “Say you’re done, Dean,” you demanded.

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