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whatareyousearchingfordean · 6 years ago

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Kiss From a Rose

The Witch in the Reunion

Summary: Y/n has been hunting alongside the infamous Winchesters for years now, but when an unexpected case pops up in her hometown, she finds herself struggling not only with her feelings for the eldest brother but with the things from her past that she has been fighting to forget.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size Reader

Word Count: 5K+

Warnings: Language, angst, character death

Author’s Note: THE BIG REVEAL! Whodunnit? Also, the Seal song that the reader refers to is exactly the one you think it is...

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The case came to an abrupt halt with no new leads, pushing the hunters into the weekend and much to Y/n’s dismay, the reunion. It was their last chance to keep their cover in town and any hope of talking candidly with those closest to the victim. The huntress had hoped it wouldn’t come to this and that she and the Winchesters would uncover the culprit before she was forced to parade her ‘husband’ around to everyone and everything she had run away from. Alas, she could never have been that lucky.

The huntress spent her morning huddled under the cheap covers of the motel bed, mindlessly flipping through bad soap operas and cooking shows until she could no longer put off getting ready for the evening. Y/n took her time in the shower, allowing the boiling heat of the water to relax away the tension in her muscles. It also allowed for her time to think of some excuse to wrap up the cases without a conclusion, though she failed to find one that would convince the Winchester brothers.

When turning the temperature control on the nozzle ceased to continuously heat the stream of water gurgling from the showerhead, Y/n reluctantly pulled herself from its confines, drying herself off and tossing her hair into a towel situated on top of her head.

The steam from the shower billowed out of the bathroom and into the rest of her motel room as she went for her duffle, humidifying the large space with ease. Pulling out the matching bra and panties she had packed specifically for this occasion, she slipped the pieces on and topped them with a button-up flannel to finish her hair and makeup.

Y/n went back into the bathroom and started up her hairdryer, focusing on her roots as she began. The huntress was about halfway through when a loud banging nearly caused her to drop the tool in her hand. She shut it off and waited, listening closely for the source of the sound. When it came again, she was sure someone was knocking to come in and she rushed out, pulling on a pair of leggings before going to answer the door.

The opening of her door brought with it a welcomed gust of the cool spring air from outside and revealed the brothers Winchester standing side by side.

“Hey, kid. We didn’t hear from you this morning so Sammy and I decided to bring you lunch, figured you might be hungry,” Dean held up the brown paper bag he was holding with a grin that matched that of his baby brother beside him.

“Come on in,” Y/n agreed, stepping back from the entryway to allow the two giants into her room. The brothers went immediately to the small desk in her room, placing the food and drinks on the glossy wood surface.

“Picked up your favorite, sesame chicken and fried rice,” Dean explained as he began to pull containers from the large bag.

“Yum,” the huntress drew out her reply with a hum, her tongue darting out to wet her lips as she realized just how hungry she had unknowingly become. “You know me too well, Winchester.”

Dean flashed her a cocky smile as he handed over the meal, topped off with an iced tea from Sam. She took it and perched herself at the foot of her bed, crossing her legs before digging into the meal. The oldest Winchester followed and seated himself next to her while Sam stayed in the desk chair.

“So have you found anything interesting since last night?” The huntress inquired after a bite, trying to hide the hopefulness in her voice that she would get out of tonight’s event.

“Nada,” Dean admitted around a mouthful of his lunch. “We’ve got nothing that strictly points to anyone, just a mountain of guesses. This bitch knows how to cover their tracks.”

“Yeah well in a small town like this, you learn how to get good at sneaking around,” Y/n pointed out. “When everyone knows everyone, you’ve got to be good at keeping secrets.”

“Is that so?” Dean cocked his head at the woman next to him, a devilish thought occurring to the hunter. “You know from experience, Y/n?”

“Yeah, you bet. All those years spent by myself in my bedroom were great for learning how to sneak around,” she scoffed, unamused that Dean was still riding this train.

“I don’t believe that for a second. I bet you had your share of nights under the bleachers.” The huntress rolled her eyes at Dean’s insistence, the aggravation building inside her.

“How many times do I have to explain this to you? I was not popular growing up and I certainly didn’t have any guys begging me to join them for some lame-ass tonsil hockey under the bleachers.”

“Bull,” Dean countered once again. The huntress groaned, tossing a pleading look at the younger Winchester in the hopes he could get Dean to let up.

“Dean, I don’t think it’s any of our business,” Sam spoke up, clearly getting the hint better than his brother.

“Just ‘cause you didn’t get any in high school doesn’t mean you have to ruin everybody else’s fun.” Dean laughed at his joke, elbowing Y/n in an attempt to get her to join in his teasing and failing miserably. Sam only frowned at his brother.

“You want to know the truth?” The bubbling in her gut had spilled over, turning into word vomit that she couldn’t have stopped no matter how much she wanted to. “I didn’t lose my virginity until I was twenty-three in the quickest and most pathetic night of my life. And it’s not like I was exactly getting much of anything before that either.

“It’s fine though. I wasn’t ready until I was ready and I’ve so moved on from the nightmare that was my early twenties.” Y/n decided to tack on that last tidbit in an ill-conceived attempt to lighten the admission that had slipped from her tongue. Heat flooded her neck and cheeks as she noticed the brothers staring at her in confused awe.

She absolutely could not believe that she had admitted that in front of either of the brothers, but most of all Dean. There was now no way after this weekend he would ever look at her without pity, only seeing her as the bullied little girl who never so much as received a look from a man until after college. If the floor could swallow her whole at this moment, that would be great.

“Right… thanks for lunch, guys, but I need to finish getting ready,” the huntress cleared her throat after an awkward moment of silence, her eyes desperate for them to leave for her to save face in one of the most embarrassing moments of her life.

“Uh, of course. We’ll just…” Sam coughed out the jumbled words as he rose from the chair and went to his brother, gripping his bicep and tugging him alongside as the brothers stumbled from the room.

Y/n fell back against the mattress with a huff, mentally kicking herself for everything she had ever done or said in front of Dean. The hunter somehow had this hold over her, always managing to get her to admit things she didn’t wouldn’t even say aloud to herself. If she keeps it up at this pace, she will be on the path to permanently removing herself from the Winchesters’ life if she ever hoped of retaining some sort of dignity.

Silently, she finished up the meal they had brought her before heading back to finish what she had started. Once her hair was completely dried, she curled the length of it into soft curls and then applied some basic makeup. Nothing too showy for a small town class reunion.

Once she was satisfied with her look, she returned to the main space and took out her dress that she had hung in the closet last night after ironing out the thin material. It was a dress she had stowed away for undercover work, never taking it out of its bag unless desperate.

The ruby-red material fell snug against her curves and never failed to make her feel more exposed than she was used to. There was a reason she stuck to comfy and bagging clothes, using them as a way to hide the parts of her body that she had a specific distaste for. However, the job occasionally necessitated she appeared more feminine, and this was one of those nights.

Standing in front of the full-length mirror, the huntress topped off her look with heels and jewelry as she examined her reflection with a pout. Unsurprisingly, she easily picked out all of her mind's flaws, from her hatred of her flabby arms and the rolls that she subconsciously sucked in when she turned to examine her profile.

A small knock at the door bounced her out of her thoughts.

“Come in,” she called, giving her reflection one final frown before turning to fetch her clutch.

“Hey, are you ready to--” Y/n turned to see Dean’s eye’s traveling up the length of her body, his emerald eyes intense in their gaze. Heat coursed through her veins under his leering and she had to clear her throat before he snapped from his trance. “Sweetheart, you look incredible.”

“Thank you, Dean. You clean up nicely yourself,” she smiled sweetly, a stark contrast to the racing of her heart knowing Dean had been so intent on her.

The oldest Winchester brother donned a maroon button-down that he had tucked into a pair of dark slacks. A few of the top buttons had been left open and he had the sleeves rolled up, revealing his forearms. It was a simple look, but enough to get any living being’s mouth watering at the sight.

“Just need one more thing,” Y/n noted as she went to her duffle and pulled out her pistol. She checked the barrel and magazine quickly before putting the safety on. Raising her heeled foot to the edge of the bed, she hiked up her dress to her high thigh and tucked the weapon into the holster she had hidden on her thigh. The huntress dropped her leg and tugged her dress back into place. “Okay, ready.”

There was an unmistakable clench in the muscles of Dean’s jaw as she walked across the room to where he stood. His brow was furrowed into a knot in the middle of his forehead as his eyes followed her movement. “Dean?”

“Hmm?” He blinked a few times as if he just noticed she had moved closer to him. “Oh, shall we go?”

Y/n nodded slowly, confused by his sudden shift but trailed after him from the motel and into the parking lot. Dean helped her into the passenger side of the Impala and then made his way to his spot behind the wheel.

Soft music played from the radio as they pulled from the parking lot and headed west. Besides the soft melodies of Bob Seger and Neil Young, the inside of the car was quiet. Y/n was lost in thought as once again as the anxiety over the night ahead began to simmer in her belly. The cheap gold band that encompassed her finger felt like a heavy neon sign flashing at everyone and indicating the blatant deceit she and Dean were attempting to portray.

“Hey,” Dean spoke softly beside her, placing his palm against her bare knee to get her attention. “Sam will be close by, just in case.”

“Yeah, I know,” she replied with a soft smile. Dean had picked up on the waves of anxiety rolling off of her, but he had read the situation so wrong.

“Then what’s up, sweetheart?”

“Just thinking about possibly having to face a monster in heels,” she lied, easily squeaking out a fake laugh for him.

“Well, I’ve seen you kick ass in heels plenty of times before so I doubt tonight will be any different.” He squeezed his grip on her, giving her a flash of a grin before turning back to the road.

“I didn’t say I couldn’t do it, just that I’m not particularly fond of it,” Y/n pointed out and Dean nodded with a chuckle.

Neither brought it up again in the final few miles of the drive. When they pulled into the parking lot, it was filled with far more cars than it had been just a few days prior. The party was already in full swing, the music audible as the pair stepped out of the Impala.

“Alright, shows on.”

Dean took the huntress’s hand and guided her into the school. The two checked in and filled out name tags before entering. The decorations had the gym looking like a cheap prom. A tunnel of balloons shepherded people into the gym where they were greeted by more balloons and streamers strategically placed all over. There hung a disco ball in the center of the room where a makeshift dance floor already had people swaying to the beat.

“Oh, you two did make it!” The shrill sneer had the hunters snapping their heads towards the dessert table where Janelle was already rushing towards them with a malicious grin on her face.

“We said we would be,” Y/n replied coldly, unable to hide the roll of her eyes. Janelle ignored her and drew her gaze to Dean then, her eyes hungry as she set them on the green-eyed man without a care about the woman whose hand he still held. Y/n scoffed and stalked off towards the drink table without a word.

“Mm, are you sure you and jelly belly over there are working out?” Janelle husked out as she stepped into Dean’s personal space.

“Slow down,” Dean huffed as he stepped back from the brazen woman. The warning was low but the narrowing of his eyes told her she meant business. Janelle frowned as the hunter turned on his heel and followed where his partner had gone. He slinked silently to her side and put an arm around her waist to pull her close before he left a light peck to her temple.

“Jesus Dean,” the huntress exclaimed as she jumped from his touch, her instincts ready to fight before she caught his grin out of the corner of her eye. “Warn a girl next time.”

“Where is the fun in that?” The Winchester had fallen back into his usual goofy self with ease, opting to steal the glass of whiskey she had poured herself after she dumped the whole of its contents down her throat in one go.

“You’re going to have to take it slow there, Mrs. Walker, we’re on a case still,” Dean chuckled as he refilled the glass for himself. Y/n grumbled her dissatisfaction though she knew he was right. Instead of fighting, she pulled him back into the crowd of people to continue their intel gathering.

Not much came from their hopping between groups of Y/n’s former classmates. The women spent most of their time too busy drooling over Dean to answer any questions beyond small talk and the guys simply acted as if the huntress didn’t exist, instead only talking to her partner for a majority of their conversations. It was irritating as hell for her, to be right back into the toxic environment that had scarred her psyche all those years ago. Not to mention, they were not one step closer to figuring out who their witch was.

When dinner was eventually served, Y/n was more than ready for the reprieve it would bring from having to put on a show for the last people she would ever care about.

“So, let’s go over what we know?” Y/n spoke up as they sat at an empty table in the far corner of the gym.

“Damon still makes my skin crawl, I don’t trust him,” Dean answered as he scanned the crowd for the aforementioned guy.

“I don’t understand why, we ruled him out already.”

“I just don’t like the way he looks at you.” Y/n scoffed at Winchester’s insinuation that anyone from her high school would look at her with anything but disgust. “Him or Roger, whom, I might add, we have not ruled out.”

“Roger was just a horny teenage boy,” the huntress countered. “I think Janelle or Kate are our best guesses. They were the two closest to the victim.”

“They were all in a book club together, and you know what that could mean,” Dean insinuated. “That is until Janelle had a falling out with the book club which resulted in the vic almost failing to hire her as the caterer for this shindig. People have killed for less.”

“Damn it, we need proof,” Y/n cursed with a frown. “I want to get back to the bunker already.”

Dean nodded in full agreement to her sentiment. The pair finished their meals in relative silence, watching the rest of her class as they moved about the venue, hoping something might pop out at them.

“Should we blend into the crowd and see what we can see?” Dean offered as he cleared his plate. Y/n cocked her head at him, unsure of what he was getting at. “You know, head out onto the dance floor.”

“Oh, I am so not drunk enough for that,” the huntress declared as she adamantly shook her head.

“Come one, we’ll have a better vantage point out there.”

“Fine,” she sighed, offering her hand to Dean as he stood and guided her underneath the disco ball, placing them in the center of all the action.

The hunter began to move awkwardly to the music that emanated from the speakers surrounding them. It was far from anything he ever would have listened to and clearly that put him out of his comfort zone. Y/n couldn’t help the giggles that slipped past her lips as she watched, causing Dean to halt his dancing, his hands slapping against his sides.

“Don’t laugh. If you can do better then show me,” Dean huffed, gesturing for her to go ahead.

“Hell no,” she yelled above the music as the song switched, knowing that there was only one way she could move to the beat now filling the gym.

“Do it for me, sweetheart.” Y/n chewed on the corner of her lips fighting with her self-conscious ways before quickly shaking away the fear and stepping up to Dean.

“You asked for this,” she noted, giving him no time to respond before she began to move her hips. His hands flew to her waist as she rolled the length of her body against his in time with the song. The hunter began to grind with her, slipping one of his legs between her own, pressing the two of them closer together. Y/n pushed down the worries bubbling in her chest, focused on the music, and listening to her body. She spun on her toes and pressed her backside into Dean, who paused his movement for half a second before falling back into the dance.

It was far closer than the duo had ever been and as much as that scared her, she took the time to relish in the feeling of his hands gripping tight onto the soft flesh of her waist and the heat of his body pressed against her own. The song faded out and with it, Dean snapped himself from her form, much to her dismay. There was no denying his abrupt action tugged on her heart.

With a deep breath, she turned back to him, ready to face the music of having pushed him too far. Dean stood there rubbing the back of his neck as his tongue darted out to wet his plump lower lip. His brow furrowed before he turned to walk back towards their table.

“Wait, Dean!” He paused and turned back to her. A sheepish smile formed on her face as the notes of the now much slower song began to grow stronger. “I love this song.”

“It’s Seal,” he countered as if that was a valid reason to not like the song.

“Please?”

The hunter relented, offering his partner a soft smile as he moved back towards her. Y/n looped an arm over Dean’s shoulder and took his hand in her free one. Hesitantly he slipped his arm around her waist and began to move the two along with the notes of the nineties song filled the gym.

“What?” Y/n scrunched her nose as she heard Dean chuckle under his breath.

“Nothing, it’s just-” Dean shook his head, the grin widening on his face. “Are we middle schoolers?”

The huntress cocked her head, not sure what Dean was insinuating. Without elaborating, Dean took the hand she held in his and placed it around his neck with her other, tugging her body closer to him as he was now able to grip her waist with both hands.

Her body went rigid as she could feel his breath on her face and the warmth of his body seeping through her dress. The length of his body was pressed against hers, firm and unrelenting. Flashbacks to their moment in the janitor’s closet flooded her brain and she could feel her heart rate picking up in response.

“Sweetheart, you doing okay?” Dean looked down his nose at the woman he held in his arms. Having sensed her sudden discomfort, he asked, though he could guess why she was now riddled with anxiety. “Listen, I know what you are thinking but to hell with all these assholes and their superficial views. None of them know the real you. The smart, beautiful, and badass hunter that can knock me and my giant of a brother on our asses without even trying. They don’t deserve even one second of your thoughts.”

Tears welled in the corners of her eyes, threatening to spill over as she refused to look at Dean. Instead, she chose to hold him close, ignoring his words that her mind couldn’t begin to accept yet as she rested her chin on his shoulder.

“Y/n/n,”

“Dean, just… stop, okay? I can’t take the pity,” she nearly choked on her words, the emotion building up like a pressure cooker inside her. It was about more than just the nasty comments and glares from her classmates, it was about the man she could never have. Dean had spent the better part of the weekend playing his role as a loving husband so convincingly that at moments she would almost forget that it was all a ruse. He was kind and supportive and flirty, all of it a deadly cocktail that would lead to her ultimate demise, a broken heart.

“Jesus, it’s not pity, sweetheart. Did these people real fuck you up that bad that you can’t see the effect you have on me?” Dean used his hands on her hips to tug her away from his body, forcing the huntress to look at him now.

“Yes!” she practically screamed the words, not understanding where the miscommunication was for him. The tears she had been trying to swallow down now traced down her cheeks anyway. “I’ve never exactly been the kinda girl that guys chased after, let alone the kind of girl you chase after. I’ve seen your hookups, Dean. I’m nowhere near the league of women who have gotten to share your bed. So why now?”

“All those women were nothing but an easy shot. There wasn’t one second about any of those nights that was real. But you and the way you make feel, that’s real,” Dean insisted, his verdant eyes intent on making her understand. “Sometimes I feel like you are my other half. You make me laugh and challenge me in the best ways. Sammy loves you and you love him. You are one of the most selfless people I know and you tackle hunting with the most annoyingly positive attitude that just makes me want to be around you more. Y/n, you are the whole package.”

The huntress stood there, mouth hanging open at his confession. A million thoughts raced through her head but she didn’t get a chance to comment before movement in her peripherals caught her eye. Her eyes flickered towards the back door that led from the gym where Kate was slinking out into the darkness.

“Dean,” Y/n hissed, nudging his shoulder before pointing towards the door. “Kate just snuck outside.”

“You think?” It took Dean’s brain a second to switch gears, but he didn’t need her to elaborate for him when it eventually caught up.

“I mean it makes sense, right?” Dean shrugged but it was all the response the huntress needed. She took his hand and slinked through the sea of her classmates to follow their suspect. Once the gym door closed behind them, the pair readied their weaponry.

“Split up. I’ll go towards the football field, you head that way.” Y/n gestured towards the parking lot. Dean nodded and stalked off in the opposite direction she did. Y/n held close to the building until she hit the corner, moving slowly around the brick to find the space empty. Her eyes scanned the expanse of the open area as she headed swiftly towards the football field. Her heels clicking against the pavement broke the silence of the late-night as she moved.

As she drew closer, she noticed a light on inside the concession stand. She made herself light on her toes and put her body flush against the dirty brick as she headed towards the open window. Carefully, so as not to reveal her location, the huntress peered inside the shack.

In the center of the space was a large metal island, the top of it littered with satanic paraphernalia. Kate had her back to the window, but Y/n was able to make out her soft chanting in Latin.

Without a second thought, the huntress flashed around the side of the building and kicked in the door.

“Ah, don’t move,” Y/n tsked as she pointed her gun straight at the witch’s heart. “One wrong move and I put one of these witch-killing bullets in your head.”

Kate didn’t seem at all phased by the weapon in her face. “Really, Kate? Witchcraft?”

“Oh, Y/n, you can’t even imagine the world of possibilities I have opened up for myself.” Kate’s lips twisted in an evil smile as she spoke.

“Oh trust me, I can imagine.” The huntress rolled her eyes, far from amused at the witch’s attempt to make it sound like murder was so glorious.

“Just eliminating the competition.”

“Competition? For what?”

“Alec, of course,” the witch laughed. “You see, we made a deal back in high school and Sarah, well she decided she didn’t want to play anymore and it was my turn. So I took care of her. ”

“Your turn?” Y/n shook her head at the sheer hilarity of it. “God, I have heard some crazy motives but this one, this one tops ‘em all.”

“I should have known you were a hunter, waltzing in here claiming to be married to that tall drink you’ve had by your side. Well, guess what, we all saw right through it. No way you nabbed a guy like that,” Kate taunted as she took half a step in the huntress’s direction.

“I swear to god, do that again and I will pull this trigger,” Y/n seethed, emphasizing her intent with a shake of her gun. Her blood was boiling, Kate’s words having the exact effect on her that she wanted. But she refused to give Kate the satisfaction.

“Do it and see where it gets you, jelly belly.” The nickname rolled off her tongue, and Y/n couldn’t stop the small flinch it inflicted into her bones.

“Oh, it will get you dead,” Y/n smiled menacingly as she recovered and pulled the trigger. Kate’s mouth fell open as her body shook and dropped to the ground, wasted.

“Y/n!” The huntress spun around as Dean’s worried scream reached her.

“I’m okay,” she assured as she stepped out of the concession stand, putting her gun back into the holster on her thigh.

“Oh thank god.” Dean ran up to her, pulling her to his chest. “You kill the witch?”

“Yeah, the crazy bitch had some sort of pact to share Sarah’s husband back in high school. But Sarah reneged on their deal. So she killed her.” Y/n let out a full-bellied laugh as she pulled away from Dean slightly, though he refused to relent his grip on her. “Can you believe that?”

The huntress nearly fell over in a fit of laughter. The sheer hilarity of the whole situation hitting her now that she was out of danger. It was like she was in some bad high school drama on the Lifetime network. She supposed she shouldn’t have suspected much from her hometown.

It took her a second to regain her composure. She stood back straight, wiping the wetness from her eyes when she noticed Dean’s intense stare.

“Dean, what are you--” her words were stolen from her mouth as Dean captured her lips with his. The huntress smiled into the kiss, her hands gripping Dean’s wrist where he cradled her jaw in his hands. Y/n’s head swam as the Winchester deepened their connection, angling his head just so to open her mouth to him. Their tongues danced together as the pair got lost in the feeling of the other. Only when the need for air became too great did the couple relent their hold on each other, the rapid rise and fall of their chests matching the other.

“Are you two done? We have a body to clean up.” Sam’s voice startled them both. There was a hint of a grin in his eyes that betrayed the exasperated expression he was trying to portray.

“Just another minute, Sammy.” Dean turned back to Y/N, a coy smile playing on his lips before he kissed her again.

Part 6 (Final)

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 6 years ago

Text

Kiss From A Rose Masterlist

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus Size Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, smut, body image issues, spn canon typical violence (each part will be individually marked)

This series is complete

Part 1: The Proposal in the Bunker

Part 2: The Conversation in the Road Trip

Part 3: The Alumna in the High School

Part 4: The Hunters in the Closet

Part 5: The Witch in the Reunion

Part 6: The Thank You in the End

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

428 notes · View notes

whatareyousearchingfordean · 6 years ago

Text

Kiss From a Rose

The Thank You in the End

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size Reader

Word Count: 2.9K+

Warnings: Language, oral sex (female receiving), protected intercourse (be safe kids)

Author’s Note: This is it, the end of my first SPN series. Thanks to everyone who stuck it out with me, read and commented, I see you guys! Also, if you haven’t caught on, this series was inspired by one of my favorite episodes of the greatest slow burn to ever slow burn, Bones. Also, I’m a sucker for a pretend lovers to actual lovers trope... sue me. Anyhow, here it is!

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

When Sam was finally able to pull his brother off Y/n, the trio made quick work to clean up their mess, making sure not to leave a trail before heading back to the motel.

Sam, who had hitchhiked to the high school, reclaimed his rightful spot riding shotgun in the Impala. The ride back was just as quiet as the ride in. This time though, as the huntress relaxed into the back seat, she could feel Dean’s eyes on her in the rearview mirror. Every time she chanced a glance up at the green-eyed hunter, he was looking back at her, the intensity of his gaze seeping straight through to bones

It wasn’t this first time Dean had watched her from his spot behind the wheel, but something about this time felt different. His stare was powerful and her whole body tingled whenever they locked onto each other. There was a hunger behind his jewel-toned eyes that both scared and aroused her.

When they finally pulled into the parking spot, Sam muttered a goodnight before disappearing into his and Dean’s room. On the other hand, Dean walked Y/n down the short path to her room, waiting by her side as she unlocked the weathered door.

The huntress turned to him as the door hung open, unsaid words lingering in the air around them. She tried to come up with something suave to say, but she was far out of her territory, not used to beating around the bush.

“I think I’ve got half a bottle of whiskey in my duffle,” she smiled, though inside she was berating herself for her lack of finesse.

“After you, sweetheart.”

The duo entered the cool, dark, room. Dean took care of locking up as Y/n turned on a bedside lamp before going to her duffle. After a little rifling, she procured the bottle she always had hidden then went in search of some cups. Next to the sink in the bathroom were two small plastic cups that she nabbed, unwrapping them and pouring a couple of fingers in each.

“To a job well done,” she toasted as she handed Dean, who had perched himself on the edge of her bed, the extra glass. The hunter tapped his cup to hers before they both down their alcohol in one gulp. “Refill?”

“Nah,” Dean declined. Y/n moved to go refill her own when Dean caught her wrist in his hand, pulling her to stand between his thighs. He took the cup from her hand and placed it along with his on the floor before reaching up and caressing her cheek. The huntress closed her eyes at the touch, relishing in the scratch of his calloused fingers against her skin.

Y/n allowed her eyes to flutter open, her gaze once again met with the same hunger from Dean that he had given her the whole ride back. Her body thrummed with need and an unexpected bout of confidence, the huntress placed one of her knees on the outside of Dean’s hips. Her eyes never left his, gauging his reaction before she hiked her skirt up enough to place her other leg up on the bed so she was straddling his lap.

“Dean, I-”

“Shhh,” the hunter cut her off before she could say anymore. He slid one of his hands behind her neck and pulled her down to meet his lips. The kiss became hungry quickly, the pair moving effortlessly together as if they had done this a thousand times before.

Dean trailed his swollen lips up her jaw, nibbling on the skin just below her ear and earning himself a breathy sigh from the woman in his lap. He pulled her closer to his body as she rocked in his hold, his hands roaming the length of her curves as he searched for the zipper to her dress.

“Tell me to stop and we stop,” he breathed his promise into her ear, only relenting on his devouring of her body long enough for her to reply.

“Don’t stop.”

It was all the encouragement he needed to tug the delicate tab down her back. The straps began to fall down her shoulders, revealing her sheer, lace bra. The huntress noted the way his adam’s apple bobbed upon the sight before he collected his wits and pulled the dress up over her head.

A chill ran down her spine as her body was exposed to the cool air. Dean ducked his head in, placing open mouth kisses down her neck, the warmth of his body only intensifying the contrast of her skin to the air in the room. She responded by gripping the hunter’s body closer to her own, carding her fingers through the short locks on the back of his head. Her actions egged Dean on, turning him into a man on a mission.

“Ah, fuck,” Y/n whimpered as he nibbled on the skin where her collarbone met the base of her neck. There was not a doubt in her mind there would be a mark leftover tomorrow, not that she could be bothered about it at the moment. All she could focus on was the feeling of his fingers digging into the flesh around her waist and the smell of the cheap hotel shampoo that always surrounded the Winchester as the two ground against each other. His nimble fingers worked open the clasp in her bra, allowing the thin fabric to slip down her shoulders where he tossed it lazily aside.

Dean mouthed up to her jaw, bringing his plump pink lips back to hers for a chaste kiss before he leaned away from the huntress in his lap. He flashed her his signature sideways grin and like every other time, she couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“Stop staring at me like that,” she rolled her eyes and began to unbutton his dress shirt, using the task as a distraction. The hunter helped her to rid him of the maroon fabric once she finished but made sure to catch her gaze once more.

“Not gonna happen, sweetheart,” Dean husked out. “Now that I’ve got you, I don’t plan on ever letting go.”

“Dean Winchester, are you going soft on me?” The huntress quirked up an eyebrow.

“Shut up.” Y/n let out a full-bellied laugh at his response. It wasn’t often that she was able to catch the hunter off guard, but when she did, she loved to relish in the feeling. Dean chose to ignore her, instead, he stood with her in his arms and tossed her onto the bed before she could even think.

Y/n blinked back her surprise from the quick shift in position as she watched Dean pull the leather of his belt from the buckle and drop his pants. The whole time he had his bottom lip caught between his teeth, equally as mesmerized by her as she was by him. She snapped out of her reverie when his fingers wrapped around her left ankle before he was pulling both of her heels from her feet.

“Now this thing,” he growled when his fingers caught the elastic of her gun holster where it remained wrapped around her thigh. “The moment I saw this, I was sure we weren’t leaving this room tonight. Took all I had to contain myself.”

“It’s just a holster,” she gave him a playful frown, his comment not fully registering in her mind.

“It’s sexy is what it is.” Dean ripped the velcro and dropped the piece to the carpeted floor near the bed. Placing one knee on the edge of the bed, the hunter worked his way up towards the woman laying in front of him. He traced a line up the inside of her left leg, the pressure light against the heated skin of her thigh, causing her to tremble under his ministrations.

The huntress took a deep breath as his calloused fingers dipped into the elastic of her panties, every muscle in her body freezing in anticipation of his next move. But it never came, and Y/n opened her eyes she hadn’t realized she’d shut to find Dean’s face now near her, that one eyebrow cocked so perfectly on his forehead as he patiently waited.

“Tell me what you are thinking,” Dean insisted, his voice soft. “We can stop if that’s--”

Her lips crashing against his shut him up, the eldest Winchester leaning into the action with earnest. Y/n let herself get lost in the taste of him as she worked up the courage to admit her less than stellar encounters to the man she practically revered. But she knew she couldn’t put it off much longer and so she reluctantly pulled herself from his safety.

With a deep sigh, the huntress bit the bullet, using the haven she always found in the forest of his eyes to just get it out.

“I haven’t exactly had the best experiences with men, particularly the whole um… oral thing,” she sputtered out. “It’s just never felt right or lasted that long for that matter and so I tend to just white knuckle through it.”

“Oh, Y/n/n,” Dean hung his head, placing delicate kisses to the underside of her jaw before continuing. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, I can’t express that enough. But I promise you, if that’s been your experience sweetheart, then you’ve been picking the wrong guys to take you home.”

“You think I don’t know that?” The woman snorted at Dean’s astute observation, causing the green-eyed hunter to chuckle along with her.

“We can move on, or we can try and I can show you how a real man treats his woman.”

“You’re an idiot,” she smiled up at him, the grin on his face infectious.

“But you love it,” Dean shrugged. “Your call, sweetheart.”

The huntress chewed on the inside of her cheek as Dean watched her in anticipation, his eyes intense as she weighed her options. But as she lay there, wrapped up in the eldest Winchester’s embrace, all her reasons for being skeptical simply seemed ridiculous. There was truly no one else on this world that she trusted more than him, and she was certain nothing could ever betray that trust.

She nodded slightly, the grin returning to her features as Dean reciprocated it. “Okay, yes.”

Her words were all the encouragement that the hunter needed, taking back up to pressing his pink lips against her soft skin and guiding them down her torso, making sure to take his time worshiping her body. The wetness from his tongue left a chill in its wake, her flesh prickling with goosebumps as it dried in the cool motel air. She shivered at the sensation, his ministrations heating the coil in her stomach and making her core ache to be touched.

A soft gasp escaped her chest as Dean swiftly gripped her thighs and dragged her to the edge of the bed, giving her no time to think before diving into her sex like a starved man. Y/n threw her head back against the mattress as every muscle in her abdomen clenched against the feeling of his tongue lapping away at her cunt. Instinct had her hips jerking from the bed, but Dean was ready, his heavy palm pushing her pelvis back down and against his face.

“Shit, shit, shit,” her words were a breathless plea, for what though she couldn’t be certain. More? Less? To stop? No, it couldn’t be to stop, that she knew. Y/n suddenly understood every cry that ever emitted from the other side of the wall during Dean’s other… extracurricular activities, because the way every one of her nerve endings was thrumming with electricity, ready to burst at any second was all she needed as proof.

Her eyes flew open as Dean slipped two fingers inside her, applying just the right amount of pressure both inside and out, refusing to stop despite her now iron grip on his dirty blonde locks. Dean mumbled something she could not care less about, the vibrations of his deep tenor voice making her see white as her orgasm finally washed over her.

Soft chuckles came from between her legs as she stared up at the motel ceiling, her mind hazy as her breathing regulated. Her whole body was now covered in a sheen of sweat, glimmering in the soft yellow light of the room.

“Oh yeah, definitely the wrong guys,” she chuckled along with the green-eyed hunter. Her arms felt heavy as she urged him back to her, crashing her lips hungrily against his own and relishing in her taste on his tongue.

“Condom, sweetheart?” Dean reluctantly pulled away from her, but the ache between his legs was becoming insistent.

“Mhmm, side pocket of my bag.” Dean placed another kiss on the underside of her jaw before climbing from the bed in search of her duffle. The huntress watched his every movement as he searched for the item of interest, fully enjoying the view of his soft yet toned body. He procured the sought object, wagging the foil packet with a sideways grin as he turned back to her.

The huntress climbed back up the bed as Dean discarded his boxers and rolled on the condom. She tried to hide the rise in her eyebrows as she took in all his glory. Her imaginations had not done the man any favors. Of course, she had always known that Dean was beautiful, but that held true for more than just his face. The whole man was beautiful and it kind of pissed her off.

The dip in the mattress as Dean climbed over her broke her from her reverie. Her eyes snapped back to the smiling hunter as he stalked towards her, her face easily morphing into a matching grin. He cupped her cheek with one large hand, running his thumb lightly across her lower lip before dipping his head to brush his own against them. The action was gentle before it quickly morphed into something hungrier, the woman now clutching his broad shoulders to get him as close to her as possible.

“You ready?” Dean pulled back just enough to breathe the words against her lips as he nuzzled against her nose.

“God, yes,” she let out a breathy chuckle, the sound ending as a squeal as Dean hitched her thighs high on his waist, not wasting a second before entering her. The huntress’ head fell back against the pillows, exposing her neck to his fevered kisses as he began to move inside her.

Every thrust of his hips was slow and calculated, the hunter making sure they both felt every inch where their bodies met. The air in the room grew heavy, the mix of grunting breathes and the soft squeak of the bed frame rising as Dean picked up the pace.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Dean cursed in her ear, his jaw clenching as he fought to keep control.

“Harder, Dean. Please?” she begged him, her hands trailing down the contours of his back and to his hips to urge him on. “Fuck me harder.”

The hunter popped up and leaned back against his haunches, never once faltering the movement of hips. His hands glided down her torso until he could lift her hips onto his thighs, giving himself better leverage and a better angle. A low moan slipped past her lips, the sound lost on her as all she could think about was how he felt inside her.

“Come on sweetheart, come with me,” Dean hissed, sensing she was close from the light fluttering of her pussy around him. He sucked his thumb between his lips before pressing it against her tight bundle of nerves, rubbing the flesh into small circles.

“Right there, Dean, fuck,” she spit out the expletive as her hands found their way to her breasts in an attempt to grab onto anything to keep her grounded. Then everything snapped inside her at once, her vision blurring around the edges as her orgasm washed over her in a multitude of waves. Dean continued his tirade until he too fell over the edge a few seconds later, his cock throbbing as he spilled himself into the condom.

The hunter fell forward, supporting his weight on his forearms as he placed tender kisses to any exposed skin of hers. A soft smile spreads across her face as she relished the soft moment with the Winchester. Her fingers are lighting scratching against his sweaty back as the pair let their breathing come down to baseline.

“Thank you,” she muttered after a deep sigh, the sound of voice nearly startling in the now quiet room. Dean lifts his head to stare down at her, taking in the blissed-out look on her flushed face. He kisses her softly, slowly, taking his time to taste her before speaking.

“What are you thanking me for?”

“For everything. You’ve had my back this weekend, in more ways than one, and I-” her words trailed off as she fought back the tears of gratitude building in her eyes.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Dean popped a smile as he wiped the stray hairs from her forehead. “You never have to thank me for that. I’ve always got your back. Being here with you is enough for me.”

Y/n nodded her understanding, the tears winning their battle and streaming down the sides of her face. She pulled Dean back to her lips, pouring everything she couldn’t say out loud into their kiss. The huntress wasn’t sure she would ever truly be able to express to him what his very existence means to her, but she knew she would spend the rest of her life trying.

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 6 years ago

Text

Kiss From A Rose

The Alumna in the High School

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size Reader

Word Count: 2.8K+

Warnings: Language, bullying

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The small midwestern chain diner looked the same as every other one the three had frequented in their travels. Dean swore they served the best coffee on the east side of the Mississippi and had dragged Y/n and Sam along for a cup and breakfast before they began their day of intel gathering.

The brothers slipped into the booth opposite the huntress as the waitress arrived before they had even settled themselves. She took their orders and filled the coffee mugs that sat prepared for the customers on the tabletop.

Dean took a tentative sip of the warm beverage, letting out a content sigh before looking up to Y/n. “Do you have any preliminary idea of who could be our culprit?”

“Not as of yet. I didn’t know my classmates well enough to pinpoint who dabbled in the dark arts in their free time,” she shrugged off his question as she poured milk into the mug in front of her, hoping the dairy would cool the coffee enough so she could drink it soon.

“Well, we haven’t confirmed it’s a witch yet. Think anyone could be a monster?” Dean picked further at her aggravation, knowing full well what he was doing.

“Nope,” Y/n popped the ‘P’ on her answer, not hiding the distaste for her ‘husband’s line of inquiry.

“Remind me again then how you are helping?” The oldest Winchester furrowed his brow at her, never losing the slight twinkle in his eye. Y/n let out a groan, shaking her head at him. He hadn’t even allowed her a sip of her coffee before he was poking at her nerves like a five-year-old.

“I already told you I would be no more help than usual on this case and yet you insisted,” she hissed. “I’m so out of here. Call me when you find your witch or monster or... whatever.” Y/n moved to slide out of the booth, halting her movements when Dean wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

“Woah, okay, drama queen. I was kidding,” he chuckled lowly. Y/n chanced a glance at Sam who was just frowning at the both of them.

“Tell me again why you are my husband? Sam is far less annoying,” she asked, pulling her arm from Dean’s grip and settling back in her seat. Just as she had hoped, her words caused Dean’s grin to fall, his dimples she loved so much popping up as he pursed his lips.

“You know words hurt, Y/n,” he deadpanned and it was her turn to laugh, the sarcastic sound emanating from deep in her belly. Dean could never take a joke as well as he doled them out and it brought her much amusement when she was able to catch him off guard, even if this time she couldn’t relish in it fully.

“You’re going to lecture me on the power of words? Me!? The same woman who explained to you how she had been tortured by her classmates all through grade school? So much so, that the idea of returning physically makes her nauseous. You are funny, Winchester.”

“Okay, you two, let's just focus on our plan,” Sam interjected, cutting off whatever comeback Dean was formulating. His mouth hung open a fraction as he contemplated continuing before thinking better of it. “Besides, Y/n, you two already bicker like a married couple so people will likely buy the story more than you and I,” Sam added nonchalantly.

“We don’t bicker,” Y/N and Dean defended at the same time, glancing at each other as they trailed off.

“Yeah, you don’t bicker.” Sam somehow managed to look annoyed and amused at their outburst. “That reminds me, I picked these up for you guys.” He reached into his FBI jacket and pulled out matching gold rings.

“Nice thinking, Sammy.” Dean took the jewelry from his brother, offering one to Y/n and putting the other on his left ring finger. She examined the ring, turning the delicate band repeatedly between her fingers

“Y/N, it’s a ring, not a bomb,” Dean mused as he watched her from across the table. The huntress frowned at him before mirroring his previous actions. Her hand felt weird as the cool metal slipped past her knuckles. The woman couldn’t shake the feeling that everyone was now looking at her, all of them aware that she now wore a wedding band. It was certifiable, that she was certain of, but it didn’t stop the uptick in her the thumping of her heart. Her eyes never left the gold, watching it catch in the sunlight that came in from the window as she spun it around her digit.

“Kid, where did you go?” Dean snapped his fingers in her face and it took her a second to snap her eyes from her hand to his face. He was frowning at her again, as he reached for the maple syrup across the table. Y/n hadn’t even realized their breakfast had been placed at the table, her thoughts having had drifted from the cozy diner.

“Not far enough,” she mumbled as she unwrapped her silverware and dug into her omelet. Still lost in thought, she didn’t notice the shared look of worry between the brothers.

Once they had their food, the three ate in relative silence, only the brothers discussing briefly their plans to take Sam to the county police station. It wasn’t long after that it was just Y/n and Dean sitting in the Impala as she roared down the country roads of Michigan.

“Turn right here,” she indicated the upcoming intersection, earning a soft chuckle from the Winchester next to her.

“Yeah, laugh it up. I figured you would enjoy that one.” The huntress didn’t even have to ask him what was so funny. Dean had clearly taken note of the name of the back road they had just turned onto. ‘Dean’ road.

“Come on, your high school is located on a street named after me. That’s kismet, sweetheart,” he waggled his eyebrows her way and she just rolled her eyes.

“Well technically, it’s on the corner of Jackman and Dean, but go ahead enjoy the idea,” she could practically hear the way his face dropped at her words, and Y/n couldn’t hide a chuckled of her own.

From there, it only took a few minutes to reach the high school nestled in the middle of nowhere. Dean pulled Baby into a parking spot at the far end of the lot, avoiding bringing her close to any of the handful of cars that littered the lot.

Dean jumped from his spot behind the wheel and ran around to the passenger side to pull open her door. He offered the huntress his hand and helped her from the car. “Ready, sweetheart?”

“No, but we are here now so…” Y/n frowned as she adjusted her jacket on her shoulders. Her body shook with a particularly strong shiver and the woman knew that it was from more than just the chilly spring morning.

Dean nodded knowingly, deciding to not push it any further. He followed a step behind her to the entrance to the building. Inside, the halls were mostly dark, the only limited lighting coming from the large windows on either side.

“So, Sam is working on questioning the husband, Alec, while we try and find out who else might have had the motive to want her gone,” Dean whispered as they continued further down the halls.

“I don’t think Alec did it. He played football but he wasn’t your stereotypical jock. He was a nice kid who headed the club that partnered special ed kids with friends, often hanging out with them himself,” Y/n explained the kid she had known when they were teenagers. “I just don’t think he’d have it in him.”

“See, I knew you knew more than you were letting-“ Dean’s compliment was cut short as the two rounded the corner, running right into a woman carrying a box full of craft items. The cardboard slipped from her hands, its contents spilling everywhere as it clattered to the ground.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I haven’t slept in days,” The woman practically squealed as the three of them fell to their knees to pick up the dumped items. “My nerves are fried because of this damn reunion-“

“Kate Walters?” Y/n interrupted the frazzled woman as she began to recognize the aged features in front of her. Kate had plenty more lines etched into her skin and her hair lacked the luster it once had but Y/n was convinced of who she was looking at.

It was hard to forget the face of someone who made it a game out of seeing how often they could make a person cry. Kate was one of Sarah’s best friends, the two of them attached at the hip since seventh grade. That was when the true torture began. Puberty had been far nicer to them than they had been to Y/n. Slimming off the baby fat and giving them just enough curve to catch the male gaze. This gave them all the ammo they needed to further separate them from the girl who had been chubby all her life.

“Do we know each other?” The smile never left as Kate looked quizzically over at Y/n.

“Y/n Y/l/n. We had senior year French together…” Y/n explained, hating that she remembered that fact so easily after all of these years. It certainly was not the most attractive trait.

“Oh,” her face fell for only half a second, but it was enough for Y/n’s gut to drop. “Yes, I remember you.” Her smile returned, only this time it was even more fake than it had been before. Kate’s gaze landed on Dean as he handed over a spool of fabric, her eyes widening a touch. “And you are?”

“Oh, I’m the husband,” Dean explained as he offered his hand to Kate. Her eyes lips turned down as her eyes darted back and forth between Dean and her old classmate. “Dean Smith.”

“Husband?” Kate’s voice rose an octave. Dean nodded with a wide smile, always the pro at putting on the charm for the ladies. “Uh, um- so are you here for the reunion?”

“Oh yeah, Y/n/n was so excited when she got the invite,” Dean snuck his arm around his partner’s waist and pulled her into his side. “And I couldn’t wait to see the place she grew up.”

“Well, aren’t we the lucky ones then.” Kate’s eyes roamed inconspicuously up and down Dean. The huntress had to bite her tongue as the anger bubbled up in her stomach. “Everyone is setting up in the gym and I am sure they would love to meet Y/n’s husband.”

“That sounds great!” Dean beamed as he laced his fingers in Y/n’s and pulled her along to follow after Kate.

She had to give it to her fellow hunter, he was a natural at playing the whole suburban husband thing. If he had at all noticed Kate’s snide jabs or the way she had been devouring him with her eyes, he hadn’t let on to it at all. At least, she hoped he wasn’t so thick as to not notice that Kate was being less than subtle.

The further the three of them ventured into the school, the more Y/n took note of the minuscule changes that had happened over the past couple of decades. The floors seemed to have been upgraded and the inspirational posters that hung on the walls were modernized to appeal to the current generation. Other than that, not much had changed in the halls of Bedford High School.

The gym was bustling with more people than Y/n had expected when the three entered. She recognized most of them as former classmates, the others most likely family members. They were all busy with setting up, a group of men pulling tables and chairs from behind the stage and another group working on hanging decorations in the school’s signature red and white colors.

“There you are, I was beginning to think you got lost,” A woman looked up at them as the doors closed behind the group. Y/n took in the way her clothes fit snugly against the woman’s frame, a few of the buttons around her bust looking as if they might pop at any second. Her hair fell in soft waves down her back much in the same way it had in high school. The huntress recognized her as Janelle Brown, the third woman to round off Sarah’s inner circle back in school. Her features weren’t as aged as her friend’s, but she did appear to be curvier than she was in high school. Karma worked in the best of ways.

“Sorry, Nell. I ran into someone in the hall. You remember Y/n Y/l/N?” Kate set the box on the folding table near where Janelle stood. “And this is her husband, Dean.”

“Oh,” there it was again, the one word that managed to put Y/n on edge. The shock and curiosity were evident on her badly botoxed face as she too, shamelessly drank in Dean as if Y/n did not even exist. “Of course I remember!” Janelle plastered on a fake smile for the couple.

“I’m so sorry to hear about Sarah, I know how close you all were,” Y/n offered in an attempt to change the subject from herself.

“Yes, well, Sarah was so excited for this reunion. She put so much work into it, it’s a shame she will never see the end product.” Janelle frowned, the action disingenuous as she looked out on the work being done around them. It didn’t shock Y/n much that Sarah’s so-called best friends didn’t miss her much after her untimely death. There weren’t many more skilled at stabbing each other in the back than those three, no matter what they put out for the rest of the school to see.

“Right, and poor Alec is just a mess, hasn’t left the house in days,” Kate added, nodding enthusiastically.

“We heard she drowned in her bedroom. Do they have any idea how that happened?” Y/n pushed the ladies for more information, hoping to get a reaction out of them that might indicate their involvement in the murder.

“I haven’t heard a peep about it. The cops are keeping everything on the down-low,” Kate explained.

“Weird is definitely a good description,” Janelle agreed. “I’m sorry but we must get back to work. The pies won’t bake themselves. It was great meeting you, Dean.” The woman nearly purred as she uttered Dean’s name in an obvious attempt to pull a reaction from him. Too bad for her, Y/n knew he hadn’t heard much after she said pie.

“You too, Janelle,” Dean offered as he once again slid his arm around Y/n’s waist. The huntress jumped at the action though was quick to hide her surprise. The Winchester’s proximity to her was distracting, to say the least, the weight of his palm on her hip and the heat rolling off him in waves was making her head swim.

Kate said her goodbyes too, following after who was surely the new queen bee of their little friend group. Y/n watched them walk out of earshot, unaware of Dean slipping his hand into her back jean pocket until he turned her towards him, pulling her body flush against his own.

“They’re watching,” he whispered as he placed a quick kiss on her forehead, evidently having seen the look of confusion wash over her features. Y/n swallowed around the lump that had risen in her throat, willing her body to play along. It took a moment before it responded, her arms coming up to rest on Dean’s shoulders.

“You get any witch vibes from them?” Y/n inquired as Dean pulled her closer than she thought was possible.

“I don’t know about witch vibes, but there is something off there,” Dean admitted with a frown. “How about you, any ideas?”

“Uh, well,” the huntress found it hard to concentrate as Dean dug his fingertips into where he was holding her close. “Those two were a part of Sarah’s clique in high school. They played as a tight-knit group but it seemed like every week someone was stabbing someone in the back. But high school girls are just like that, I don’t think it constitutes witchcraft.”

“You got any other suspects then?”

“Sarah was a bitch and while she favored me for her torment, I was not the only victim. I can think of plenty of people who hated her,” Y/n stepped out of Dean’s embrace. As much as she didn’t want to, she knew that they had put on enough of a show for her classmates and if she allowed herself to remain in his arms, her carefully crafted facade was sure to crumble around her. That was not something she was willing to let happen if she wanted to protect her heart from Dean Winchester.

Part 4

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 6 years ago

Text

Kiss From A Rose

The Conversation in the Road Trip

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size Reader

Word Count: 3K+

Warnings: Language, canon show level hunt description

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The huntress slumped her weight against the heavy door to her private room the second the latch caught. Her hands were shaking with the false adrenaline her body was pumping through her bloodstream from her interaction with the Winchesters. She attempted to take a slow deep breath in an effort to slow the steady drum of her heart beneath her ribcage and stave off what was quickly slipping into a full-blown panic attack.

“Get a grip,” she mumbled to herself as she squeezed her eyes shut and focused on the repetitive ticking of the old clock that sat on her desk. For heaven’s sake, she hunted monsters for a living and never once had any reaction close to what she was experiencing from the mere thought of taking Dean Winchester as her husband to her high school reunion. Y/n pinched the skin at the back of her upper arm to assure herself this was in fact happening and not just some horrific djinn dream or something.

As her muscles began to relax, her weight slipped down the length of the door until she was curled in on herself on the concrete floor. Now that the flight instinct was beginning to wane, the reality of her situation was able to truly sink into her consciousness.

There was a reason that Y/n was partial to the Fed cover on hunts as it came without much additional questioning from civilians. The only part she had to play was cautiously disinterested in the horrors of the job, which was not a hard task for the seasoned hunter anymore. The atrocities the people they helped had experienced didn’t hold a candle to the things that she had seen on numerous occasions. She was as about as desensitized as one could become without completely losing their humanity.

Now though, she had to play the loving wife opposite the man who would never in fact see her that way in reality. Dean Winchester was everything that those attracted to the male gender could ask for wrapped up in a pretty bow. His good looks aside, Dean was a great man. He was a hero, fiercely protective of those he cared about, and never managed to lose his sense of humor after everything he had been through. There was an infinite number of layers to the famous eldest Winchester, many of which only a select few people got to see. Y/n was lucky enough to call herself one of those people, and for that, she had stupidly allowed herself to fall in love with him.

The only thing was, he would never feel the same way. And now she had to live through him looking at her like she was his reason for getting up in the morning while it’s only an act. An act that the greatest hunter would play perfectly without batting an eye. She was certain this weekend would only serve to break her heart more than it already was.

A light knock on the door startled her out of her intrusive thoughts.

“Y/N?” The voice that muffled through the heavy oak belonged to none other than Sam. As much as she didn’t want to face him right now, she knew if she didn’t answer that would only rouse suspicion. If she was going to make it out to the other side of this hunt, it had to be business as usual.

Y/n scrambled to her feet in one swift motion and cracked the door open, a smile plastered on her face that she hoped was convincing. “Hey, Sam.”

“You okay? You seemed pretty freaked when you walked out of there,” he noted, his face riddle with that signature Sam Winchester sympathy.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Okay. Just know that Dean and I would never let anything happen to you, you know that right?” His brow furrowed deeper into a complete puppy dog pout, something he knew no one was immune to, especially her.

“Of course. I trust you two with my life.” The words she uttered were true. There was not anyone she trusts more than the Winchester brothers, no matter how much they tended to spike her blood pressure in any number of ways.

“Right, but I mean, really, we have your back.”

“Sam, -“

“Listen, I know what a less than stellar high school career feels like. If you want to talk, I’m here,” he cut off her sentence, his hazel eyes flitting between her own, searching for what, she wasn’t sure of.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind,” Y/N nodded. Sam leaned down and enveloped her into a bone-crushing hug. She loved his hugs. Sam was big enough to make her feel small, and Y/N loved that feeling, so being in his arms was a happy place for her. There was no judgment from him, just friendship. It was all she could ask for.

“Good. We head out in an hour. Meet you at the car.” He released his death grip and retreated down the hall.

An hour gave her just enough time to ensure she packs all the essentials, including a dress for the reunion. Y/n struggled to zip up her usual duffle with the extras she had shoved inside. She didn’t want to leave anything that could come in handy. Y/n, the wife of Dean Winchester, required different clothes and accessories than just plain old hunter Y/n and she was glad that she never lost her typical feminine wardrobe, even if she rarely ever touched the items on a normal day.

When she was content she hadn’t left anything behind, she headed out to the garage to find the brothers already packing up the Impala. Sam was climbing into the passenger seat and Dean was shoving bags into her trunk as she hopped down the few stairs towards them. Dean looked up when he heard her footsteps, grinning that stupid grin of his again as he caught sight of her.

“Well, there is my beautiful wife,” he nearly purred, his eyes twinkling as she stopped in front of him. His words caught her off guard, nearly knocking the wind from her lungs at how proficiently they seemed to sneak past his lips. It was only proof that Dean was going to have no problem playing his part, completely unaware of the way his every action will chip away at her cracked heart.

“Okay there big guy, save the lines for the real show.” Luckily, she had a lot of practice brushing off her anxieties with humor in hopes of hiding them from the world. Her retort surprised even her with the ease in which she had uttered it.

“Y/N,” he began, his grin dropped. Dean caught Y/N’s stare, holding her eyes in his. There was something that flashed behind his gaze that she couldn’t quite place, something that made her stomach flutter.

“Come on you two,” Sam called out his window breaking the pair’s stare off. Y/N was quick to slip her bag from her shoulder and offer it to the hunter in front of her without a word before finding her own seat in the back of the Impala.

****

With stops, the drive from the Bunker to Y/n’s hometown would take the hunters about eighteen hours. The sun had gone down hours ago, just before their last stop, as Dean had warned when he pulled into a gas station to fill the Impala’s tank. Sam grabbed snacks as Y/n took the opportunity to walk around the small building a few times to stretch her legs before using the restroom.

Now, the cassette Dean had slipped into the player was turned low as Sammy snored away in the passenger seat. Baby’s engine purred underneath them as she glided effortlessly down the now-empty back road that passed through some no-name town in Indiana.

A restless Y/n let out a soft sigh before leaning forward and resting her folded arms along the back of the front seat. “How far out are we?”

Dean flickered his eyes to her for a second before focusing back on the road, his soft smile lit up by the low light emitting from the Impala’s dashboard.

“About two hours probably,” he answered. “Why?”

“Just wondering. There aren’t any motels in the town, so we will have to find one in Toledo. Might be best to head there first at this hour,” Y/n explained, her final words cut off by a yawn.

“Sounds good. Why don’t you get some shut-eye, I’ll wake you when we get there.”

“Tried that already but my mind won’t shut up long enough. Besides, now is a good time to discuss our story,” the woman yawned yet again, failing to stifle it as the green-eyed hunter met her gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Story?”

“Yeah, like our relationship story. Everything that people are going likely to ask us.”

“Hmm, okay,” Dean chanced a glance at his brother, seeing him still fast asleep. “So how did we meet?”

Y/n began chewing on the inside of her cheek as she pondered his question, her mind drifting back to her real first encounter with the Winchester brothers.

“Oof,” The noise fell from Y/N’s lips as she landed on her side. The vampire she was attempting to kill had sent her flying backward. The seasoned hunter was able to roll out of her landing, cushioning most of the blow to her body, but it still hurt like a bitch.

“Okay, now I’m thoroughly annoyed,” she spit through gritted teeth. Her fingers flexed around the machete still in hand, the sting of the scrapes across her skin protested the movement, but she ignored the feeling, focusing on her prey so she could keep herself alive.

“Ha! I swear you hunters, the sheer ignorance...”

Y/n rose to her feet, her chest rising rapidly with her heavy breaths as adrenaline continued to pump through her veins. “Me? You vampires just think that you can run around offing people and get away with it? Not even attempting to hide your kills. It’s like you’re begging for a hunter to stop into town. Well, guess what, you aren’t the first vamp I’ve beheaded and you certainly won’t be the last. So, why don’t you try me?”

Her words set the creature off, who flashed its fangs with a menacing hiss before lunging at the huntress. This time she was prepared for the attack, easily dodging the bloodsucker and swinging the weapon in her fist all in one smooth motion. The sharp blade cut clean through the vampire’s neck, sending their lifeless head rolling across the dirt at her feet. Hot blood sprayed across the open area, leaving a thick trail of it across her chest. Y/N stepped back as the headless body crumpled to the floor, a smirk spread across her sweaty face.

“Holy shit.” Y/N froze at the husked-out words, not expecting to have company. The rest of the nest had already been taken care of, the three other headless corpses elsewhere on the abandoned property. Turning on her heel, she kept the blade in front of herself, ready for whoever, or whatever, awaited her.

From behind the decrepit farmhouse, the silhouette of two figures emerged. As they stepped out of the shadow, she could make out the men who were advancing on her. The pair of them were tall, easily over six feet, and broad-shouldered. One of them, the taller of the two, had shaggy brown hair and a perplexed frown on his face. The other, whose gorgeous features were evident even in the low light of the moon, had a shit-eating grin that stretched his plump lips over his teeth.

As she took in their modelesque features, the woman got lost in her thoughts, allowing her defensive stance to weakening of its own accord. Once she realized her weapon had dropped to her side, she shook away the intrusive and dirty thoughts about the two strangers. She knew nothing about them, and she had to keep her guard up.

“What are you doing here?” Her tone was clipped as she questioned them, leaving no room for them to deny her the answers she wanted.

“We were coming to kill a vamp, but we see you have already taken care of that.” The shorter one was still grinning like an idiot.

“Hunters?”

“Yeah, I’m Sam Winchester, this is my brother Dean.” The taller one gestured from himself and then to his partner, who simply waved as he returned his blade she hadn’t noticed to the holster that hung on his thigh.

“No kidding?” There isn’t a hunter out there who hasn’t heard of the Winchester brothers. Some other hunters didn’t have the nicest things to say. They saw the brothers as egotistical, just men who knew their name was famous. Others called them downright dangerous. They say that meeting the Winchester was surely a curse because not many lived to tell the tale, human or monster. Then there were those who honestly revered the two, like Bobby or Garth. They talked about the two men who saved the world, on more than one occasion.

“Nope.” Dean was still grinning, giving her a first-hand glimpse of that famous ego.

“Y/n Y/l/n,” she introduced herself as she too holstered her weapon and wiped her dirty hands on her jeans. “You guys are late to the party though, sorry.”

“Was it a lone vampire?” Sam asked as he squatted to inspect the body that lie in the grass at their feet.

“There was a nest of four. The other three are already taken care of.”

“You took on four vamps all by yourself?” Dean had his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, his eyebrows raised, and his gaze intent on the huntress. It set Y/N on edge, her self-confidence wavering slightly as she shifted on her feet. She wasn’t used to men looking at her like Dean was. Did he seem...impressed?

Somehow, he once again managed to get her to let her guard down without even trying, and the woman cursed herself for letting him have this effect. In this life, men dominated the job field, and it was hard enough to get respect without immediately allowing a man to turn you into a gooey, self-conscious mess.

Quickly building back up her carefully crafted walls, she pulled out her best grin and sarcastically replied, “What like it’s hard?”

“Apparently not…” Dean trailed off. “Well Y/N, at least let us buy you a beer for saving us a night of work.”

Sam stood to his full height, glancing at his brother and then Y/N, nodding in agreement with the oldest Winchester’s sentiment.

“I’m that case, you owe me at least two.”

“We could say it was a work thing as it’s technically true.” Y/n allowed her mind to drift back to the Impala’s interior and offered up her suggestion.

“Okay, so what do we do for a living?” Dean continued, easily catching on to the line of questioning they were sure to encounter.

“Um...well, I was almost finished with my RN schooling so I could easily lie about that. How about you, any preferences?” The huntress pick at a loose thread on the sleeve of her shirt as she waited for his answer.

“I’ve always wanted to be a firefighter,” Dean admitted, his gaze focused on the empty road ahead of them.

The ease in which he answered had surprised her. She had never heard this story from the eldest brother in all the years she had known the Winchesters.

“Really? Tell me about that,” she leaned further into the bench seat, curiosity getting the better of her.

“There’s nothing to tell. I was a kid and I grew out of it.” Dean shrugged his shoulders. Y/n supposed she should have known. Dean was a hero in every sense of the word. That wasn’t something that happened to him one day by force or by John. It was in his blood, long before the tragedy that catapulted the Winchester’s into the world of the supernatural. This particular choice seemed to her to be motivated by the unforeseen circumstances that caused the boys to lose their mother, not that she dared ask him that.

“Honestly, that works perfectly, we could have met in the ER when you bring in a trauma patient,” she explains, solidifying the next piece of their fake relationship. Moving on she asks the next common question she can think of.

“How long we been together?”

“Six years altogether, married for two.” Again, the ease in which he answers her question catches her off guard, even if she had, in fact, been hunting alongside the boys for six years. It was as if he had been thinking it before she even uttered the words.

“Do you think we covered all the bases?” Y/n pondered what else someone could ask them, which frankly could be just about anything.

“Probably not, but I think it’s a good foundation,” Dean started, looking over his shoulder at her for the first time since they started their conversation. “Anything else comes up we can just follow the rules of improv.”

“Rules of improv?” she chuckled lowly.

“Yeah, like-”

“I know the rules of improv, Dean. Never say no, always go with whatever your scene partner says,” she cut off his explanation. “I just found it funny that was your suggestion.”

“It’s a good suggestion,” Dean mocked offense at her words.

“You’re right, rules of improv it is,” the huntress relented, sitting back in her seat as she shares a smile with the Winchester.

The rest of the ride remained quiet, only the sounds of the cassette player and the engine to keep her mind occupied. When they arrived in Toledo, she pointed Dean to a more appealing part of town and booked a room for the brothers and one for herself.

When she emerged from the motel’s front office, Sam was stretching his long legs in the parking lot as Dean pulled their bags from the trunk. She traded their room key for her duffle, allowing Dean to slip it onto her shoulder.

“Night, boys. I’ll see you first thing in the morning. Sleep well,” she hugged both of the tall men before retreating to her room.

Part 3

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 6 years ago

Text

Kiss From A Rose

The Proposal in the Bunker

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus size Reader

Word Count: 1.6K+

Warnings: Language, negative body image discussion

Author’s Note: Welcome to my first fanfic series for Supernatural! Hope you all enjoy this little adventure xo Alex

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The heavy metal door to the garage thudded shut behind the huntress as she made her way into the bunker. A slew of plastic bags from the supply run she had made dangled from her arms as she sifted through the mail she had also stopped to pick up from her PO box. Most of the items were junk mail, having followed her to Kansas when she forwarded her address, while there were a few postcards from her hunter friends and associates.

Y/n skillfully set the groceries down on the island in the kitchen when a symbol on one of the envelopes caught her eye as it shimmered in the fluorescent lights of the bunker. Pulling it from the bunch, the red horseshoe surrounding a bucking mule that was etched into the paper sent knots to her stomach. Her hands shakily ripped open the thick envelope and pulled the heavy cardstock free, allowing her eyes to scan the words hidden inside. It was an invitation to the class of ‘99’s twenty-year reunion, the date indicated it was to take place on the coming weekend.

It was as if the mere mention of her hometown had her skin crawling. The small, tight-knit farming town did not bring her any positive memories, especially high school. The huntress had struggled with her weight and appearance since she was in elementary school. The teasing was relentless and with only a couple hundred kids in her graduating class, she was an easy target for the popular kids. The scars their torment had left affect her every day still twenty years later. It’s not something she could wash clean or rub a magic cream into, they were ingrained into her very core. There was no way she would subject herself to even thinking about returning to that place so, as far as she was concerned, they could kiss her ass.

Without a second thought, she tossed the invite into the garbage and began to put away the groceries. As she hadn’t picked up much besides the essentials, it didn’t take her long to finish. Y/n grabbed a beer from the fridge, popped the cap, and headed deeper into the fortress she now lived in.

The Winchesters were visible in the library as soon as she entered the war room. Sam sat at one of the tables, his face in his laptop, clearly engrossed in whatever it was he was reading. Dean was perched across from his younger brother, his booted feet up on the hardwood surface and a beer in his right hand.

“Hey.” A soft smile crossed his freckled face when he saw her climbing the stairs towards them. “Did you get the pie?”

The woman couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the green-eyed hunter as she took the seat next to him and took a drink of the cold IPA in her hand. “Yes, Dean, I got the pie.”

He tossed her a wink in response, the casual action erupting a flurry of butterflies in her stomach. She hated how easily the older Winchester seemed to affect her, whether it was a casual glance here or a flirty nickname there, she always found herself like putty in his hands. It was embarrassing if she was being honest with herself, and obvious. Luckily, though, it seemed he didn’t have a clue and she planned to keep it that way, saving her the eternal awkwardness of Dean having to let her down easy.

“So get this, I might have found us a case.” The sound of Sam’s voice broke her out of whatever weird self-deprecating reverie she had fallen into. Y/n took another sip of her beer in hopes of hiding the heat that was creeping up her neck.

“Tell us,” Dean urged as he turned to his brother.

“This girl was found dead last night in her home. Husband came home from work and found her on the floor of their bedroom. Autopsy says she drowned, but there was no evidence of her being near any sort of water,” Sam read the highlights from the screen in from of him.

“Hmm, sounds witchy.” Dean hummed as he took another drink. “Where is this?”

“Uh, some small town in Michigan,” Sam paused as he scanned the article to find the town name again. “Temperance, Michigan.”

The town name sent a chill through Y/n, causing her to gasp and choke on the drink she had so illy timed. Immediately she began coughing, her body trying to rid her trachea of the foreign object.

“Shit,” Dean swung his feet off the table and moved closer to her side. One hand rested on her shoulder while the other began patting her back in a timid movement as he assessed if she truly needed assistance. “Are you okay?”

“Uh, Sam… what uh, what was her name?” The sputtering woman’s voice was rough coming out through her raw throat. The curiosity and fear pumped through her veins as she waited for his answer.

“Sarah Simms.”

Fuck.

“Want to tell us what just happened to you?” Dean removed his hands from her after he was satisfied that she was breathing okay, his verdant iris’ roaming over her features in anticipation of an answer. Instead, she just held a finger and bolted back to the kitchen, leaving the brothers staring at each other in confusion. It took her only seconds to find the discarded item and return it to them in the library. Y/n tossed the crumpled material into Sam’s lap. With a furrowed brow, he picked it up and read over the calligraphy embedded on the card. His face softened as his brain connected the dots, just long enough for Dean’s impatience to overtake him and he snatched the invite from his little brother.

“Wait, so you're telling me we have a case in your home town, that just so happens to be having a twenty-year reunion for your graduating class? This is perfect.” Dean looked up from the paper and straight at the antsy huntress.

“That’s just the thing, I’m not going to that reunion.” Y/n crossed her arms over her chest, leaving no room for an argument from the Winchesters.

“What do you mean you aren’t going?” Dean furrowed his brows at her declaration.

“Just that! I’m not going. High school wasn’t exactly rainbows and sunshine for me, Dean. And not much has changed since then. I do not want to relive all that.” It was so cut and dry to Dean. There was a case that needed to be looked into and it was their job to look into it. “Can’t you and Sam just pull up and flash your FBI badges and I’ll help with research this time.”

“Sure, we could, but if this is a witch thing, we could use a local who knows the people. It will be easy to find a motive and the witch if we know their history,” Sam frowned as he interjected into the conversation.

“What Sammy said.”

“Did you not hear me? I wasn’t liked in high school. I don’t have friends there, no one is going to open up to me.” The woman was growing more exasperated at their pushing, now wishing she had never even shown them the invite in the first place.

“Y/n, come on, you know that being a local will help them open up to you easier. You being an alumni is perfect.” Dean’s voice was softer now as he spoke to her.

“Alumna,” Y/n and Sam corrected at the same time.

“This is why you didn’t have friends.” Y/n glared back at Dean, who just grinned at her. He was lucky she was utterly defenseless against that smirk of his, otherwise, she just may have slapped him.

“It does say here that she was in the school’s PTO and head of the reunion party planning,” Sam added as he returned to reading her obituary.

“Of course she was.” A dramatic sigh left her mouth, causing the hairs around her face to flutter. “Fuck, okay, fine! So if I’m going to my reunion, who are you two supposed to be?”

“Uh...” Dean’s brows furrowed as he tried to come up with a response. His silence had her hopes of getting out of this weekend of hell rising, only to be dashed as Sam spoke up.

“Well, it's a twenty-year reunion, right? I say one of us goes in as your husband. Everybody takes their spouses to reunions. The other will play the FBI angle to do recon.” The huntress’s smug facade dropped at his proposal, knowing there was no way she could intellectually counter that one.

“I’m sorry, my what?” she sputtered out, her panicking brain fully incapable of uttering much else. Her mind was running rampant, unable to think of one person she went to school with that would even believe she had nabbed either of the Winchesters. Both of them looked like they had just stepped out of a J. Crew add and she was… well, she was her ordinary chubby self.

“Yeah, sweetheart, what do you say? Will you marry me?” Y/N’s heart leaped into her throat at Dean’s words and that damn toothy grin he was flashing her. Of course, Dean would offer himself up for the job. That was just her luck.

“Ugh, fine. But for the record, I hate this idea.” The fuming woman snatched back the invite and her beer before storming off in search of the solitude of her room to sort through the storm brewing inside her.

Dean hollered after her retreating figure, “Ouch, that hurt!”

Part 2

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