#fighting the empty to go back 'sam and dean need me'

[maakeba]

DEAN: I just don't understand why he didn't try harder. // DEAN: It was like you just gave up (S08E07)

(8/?)

["Whatever happens, I just need you to know that I didn't give up, okay? That I fought. I fought to the end. I fought. I fought to come home to you" (911 - S02E03)]

[apocalypseornaw]

Tell Me

Dean Winchester x Reader

Talk of period sex

NSFW happenings

You'd known the moment you snatched away from Dean's hand that you'd end up having to explain why. You could blame it on post fight adrenaline, the need to clear bodies and get the hell out of dodge or even just wanting to get a shower before first aid being administered. 

You saw him and Sam exchange a look before the three of you made quick work of cleaning up, getting victims to safety and putting the town in your rear view mirror.

-------------------

You loved Dean and hoped like hell just this once he'd let it go, you were too damn embarrassed to admit what was going on. You sat in the backseat of the impala, dozing off and watching mile markers fly by. 

You woke up when Dean asked Sam if Chinese and the Copper Bird Inn sounded good to him. You glanced up about the time Dean glanced in the mirror "Good with you too sweetheart?" You nodded and he half smiled "Ok then. Sammy, you grab the rooms and I'll go grab the Chinese" 

You sat at the small table in the room while Sam sat next to you and Dean sat across from you. Anytime the three of you ate Chinese it always ended up with everyone stealing everyone's food so it was a habit by now to ask for empty containers for mixing purposes. The boys were talking about a case Bobby had called about and you were focusing on a hot shower and an attempt at some sleep. 

-------------

You nearly choked on air however when Dean absent-mindedly reached across the table to brush his fingers across your arm that was closest to him. It was a simple touch, an innocent one that he'd done even long before the two of you had confronted your feelings for each other. He said it helped him calm down after a hunt or to focus if he's talking about the next hunt. It was certainly not something you should've had such a reaction to. 

Him and Sam cut their eyes at each other and you could feel your cheeks warm. "Is the chicken spicier than usual?" Dean raised an eyebrow and shook his head "are you ok baby?" You nearly drew blood with how hard you bit your cheek when he called you baby before nodded "I think I'm just tired" 

---------------------

The boys decided to call it a night too so Dean walked with you next door to Sam's room where you and him had a room with two queen sized beds as well. That was all the hotel had left. You were starting to be greatful for it.  

The moment you stepped into the room Dean slipped his arms around your waist and pulled you back against him "Are you sure you're ok? You've been acting a little off this entire hunt" 

You turned to face him, letting a playful smile slip onto your face "You doubting my skills Winchester?" He grinned "Never in a million years honey but if something's wrong between us you'd tell me wouldn't you?" You felt a twinge of guilt, you'd been too concerned at your own feelings to take his into account. "Of course Dean. There's nothing wrong with us baby. I promise" he smiled "ok" then brushed a soft kiss against your lips.

Dean took you at your words. Maybe you pulling away from him was just a post fight adrenaline thing, maybe you acting off was nothing he needed to worry about. There was still that voice at the back of his mind nagging him. The two of you had been friends for so many years before becoming more, he thought there wasn't a lot you wouldn't trust him with but he felt like there was something going on and when you refused to shower with him that all but confirmed something was wrong.

-------------------

He stepped out the shower with intention to talk to you, maybe even convince you into talking with a backrub with stopped dead in his tracks when he saw you were laying on the bed closest to the door. "No ma'am" he spoke without thinking.

You turned to face him, confusion clouding your face "What's wrong baby?" He wiped a hand down his face before starting to count off on his fingers "You acted off the whole time we were talking to victims families, You wouldn't let me check on you after the hunt, you didn't even want to get rooms separate from Sammy, you choked on air from me touching me, you refused to shower me with me now you're on the bed closest to the door which you know I've never let you do and I'm not letting it go with you saying nothings wrong. Something is wrong. Tell me. Now"

You covered your face with your hands and mumbled something. He crossed the floor in maybe three steps before he was on the bed with you, gently pulling your hands from your face "What?" 

-----------------------

You should not have been this embarrassed but damn your exes and your mother had pushed such a sense of shame into you about it. Staring into the bright green eyes of the man you loved it seemed so stupid to be worried that Dean of all people would judge you for any reason "My period came two weeks early"

He nodded slowly "Do you needs pads or tampons or something?" You shook your head "No I always pack my period panties just in case" his brow furrowed "Sweetheart I'm not getting what's wrong" you closed your eyes "You, Dean" "Me?" He sounded so offended and only then did you realize what you said.

------------------

You opened your eyes and saw the hurt in his. You grabbed his hands and could feel your cheeks warm "You know my hormones are a bitch during my period" he nodded then his expression turned from hurt to humor "Are you turned on sweetheart and didn't know how to tell me?" 

"Dean Winchester everything you fucking do turns me on. When we were talking to victims families, You kept putting your hand on my lower back. That thing you do when you barely let your fingers graze my arm" you shivered lightly as he slowly crawled up the bed kissing what of your flesh your tank top and shorts gave him access to.

"The way you see yourself as just a foot soldier and you're so much more. You're such an amazing man.." his fingers joined his lips exploring what of your flesh wasn't covered by clothing and you gave a light whimper "and you in a fight..that's a thing of beauty" your voice was nearly a whisper when his mouth found your neck, lips working at your pulse point. 

"There's no one I could ever want or love more than you"  he practically growled into your skin before leaning back to look into your eyes "You've had me scared I was losing you. I don't ever want to feel like that" he caught your lips in a gentle kiss, tongue teasing against yours. "I'm sorry Dean"

---------------

"Next time just tell me what you need" he laughed before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it. Your eyes widened "Dean, I'm bleeding" he grinned "When has blood ever bothered me?" He reached for your tank and when you leaned up to let him pull it off he winked at you before leaning down to roll one of your nipples before his teeth.

Your back arched off the bed and Dean chuckled, the vibration going through your body before he pulled away from you "like I'd deny myself seeing that reaction out of you?" His hand slipped between your legs, rubbing your clothed core "Dean, I don't need any teasing or hardly any foreplay. I want you inside of me...please"

---------------------

The look he gave you could've made you could undone on its on. "Well look who finally learned her words like a good girl" he rutted his hips down against yours and a gasp left you when you felt how hard he already was "see that? That's what you do to me sweetheart. Don't ever think you can't ask me for what you want" 

Before you could say anything he was pulling your shorts off your legs tossing them to the side then standing up long enough to slip his sweatpants off. He crawled back onto the bed, hooking your legs around his waist as he lined himself up with your core "Anytime you want me, just tell me" with that he pushed into you pulling a moan from you both. 

He leaned forward to catch your lips in a searing kiss and the angle had you practically melting and he hadn't even moved yet. He grinned into the kiss "Fuck you feel amazing baby" you laughed breathlessly "Took the words out of my mouth" 

He tentatively rolled his hips and when your head fell back against the pillow he must have gotten the confirmation he needed because he kissed your neck and said "I love you. Tell me if anything is too much"

--------------------

The grip Dean had on your hips was bruising, the only sounds in the room was flesh meeting flesh and your breathy moans. He'd made you come so many times your legs were shaking around him as he worked you towards one more orgasm. 

You knew your neck and chest was peppered with marks from his lips as his neck and chest was marked from yours and his back was marked from your nails. You felt his hips start to falter just slightly as one hand came up to wrap around your neck just tight enough to force your eyes open and your attention onto him "I want to see you come apart one more time baby. You got one more for me sweetheart?" You nodded weakly and he smiled "Yeah? Yeah my girl got one more for me, then I'll help you clean up and we can go to the other bed for some sleep" 

You nodded again and he laughed "Did somebody learn to tell me when she needs me?" You tried to nod but he slowed his thrusts causing you to whine slightly "Words baby" "I did. Promise, I'll tell you Dean" "Good girl" he cooed before snapping his hips forward, causing a moan of his name to escape you as your orgasm washed over you before he buried himself inside of you with a final deep thrust and you felt when he came, coating inside of you. 

----------------

The two of you laid there like that, him still inside of you while you both worked to get your breathing back to normal. He gripped your chin gently and placed a soft kiss on your lips before saying "I mean it baby. Anything you need from me, anytime never be afraid or embarrassed to tell me" you smiled sleepily "I promise" he kissed the tip of your nose then your forehead "Cmon. I'll help you shower"

[glorystark]

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Broken Weddings (Dean Winchester)

Summary: Dean misses your wedding to go on a hunt with Sam.

Warnings: angst

WC: 768

Read on Ao3!

The storm outside rattled the windows of the small motel room, but inside, the quiet was deafening. The only light came from the bedside lamp, casting long shadows across the room. You sat on the edge of the bed, the fabric of your white dress bunching awkwardly in your hands as you stared at the door.

It had been hours. Hours since you stood alone in that church, in front of the altar, waiting for Dean. Hours since the officiant awkwardly shifted on his feet, waiting, as you tried to convince yourself that any moment he would burst through the doors, breathless, apologetic, with that trademark Winchester smirk.

But he didn’t come.

Now, the weight of it all was suffocating. The love, the promises, the belief that this time—this time—things would be different. You wanted to believe that Dean could have something normal, that the two of you could carve out a small slice of happiness in a world that had tried so many times to take it away.

But you had been wrong.

The door creaked open, and Dean stepped inside. His jacket was soaked from the rain, hair disheveled, and those green eyes you knew so well were filled with something that tore at your heart: regret.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice low and rough, like gravel beneath tires. He closed the door softly behind him, taking a hesitant step forward, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.

“You missed our own wedding,” you whispered, your voice breaking in a way you hadn’t expected it to. You had been strong all day, fighting the tears, fighting the heartbreak, but now that he was standing there, all of it came crashing down.

Dean froze, his breath catching in his throat. You knew he didn’t have an excuse—there wasn’t one good enough for this. Not for breaking this promise, not for leaving you standing there like you meant nothing.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “I wanted to be there, I swear. I—” He ran a hand through his hair, frustration and guilt written all over his face. “I got caught up in a case. Sam needed me, and things went sideways—”

You shot to your feet, the tears burning at the back of your eyes finally spilling over. “A case? Dean, it’s always a case!” Your voice cracked, and you hated the way it trembled, but you couldn’t hold it in any longer. “I’ve stood by your side for everything. Every hunt, every loss, every damn apocalypse. But this…this was supposed to be ours. Just one day. One moment for us. And you couldn’t even give me that.”

Dean flinched as though your words physically hit him. His jaw tightened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. His eyes were filled with pain, but you had seen that look before—too many times to count. This time, it wasn’t enough.

“I didn’t want to let you down,” he said finally, his voice quiet, like he was admitting something to himself as much as to you. “I thought… I thought if I could just save one more person, if I could just fix one more thing, maybe I’d deserve this. Deserve you.”

Your heart clenched painfully at his words. Dean had never been good at opening up, but you knew how deep his self-loathing ran, how much guilt he carried every single day. And while part of you wanted to take his face in your hands and tell him that he was enough—that he always had been—you couldn’t.

Not tonight.

“Dean,” you whispered, your voice breaking. “I didn’t want you to save anyone. I just wanted you to show up. For me. For us.”

He stood there, drenched and defeated, his eyes pleading for forgiveness that you weren’t sure you could give. The silence stretched between you, filled with all the things left unsaid, all the hopes and dreams that had crumbled with the sound of that empty church.

“I love you,” Dean said, his voice barely above a whisper, like the words were a prayer he wasn’t sure would be answered.

You closed your eyes, the ache in your chest unbearable. “I know,” you whispered back. “But sometimes, love isn’t enough.”

The room felt colder as you stepped past him, the door shutting behind you with a finality that echoed through the silence. Dean didn’t move, didn’t say anything to stop you, because deep down, he knew—he had always known—that he could never outrun the life he had chosen. And tonight, he had lost the one thing he had never meant to lose.

--

if you'd like to be tagged in any future fics, I post!

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Every Fucking Time

Summary: You want to help Dean, but he knows you can't.

Warnings/Explicit 18+: Lots of angst! Smut! Unprotected PinV sex. Slightly rough sex. Dean being an asshole. Dean being a broken boy. Hurt/comfort.

Pairings: Dean x Reader (You)

Word Count: 2,737

A/N: So, I just rewatched 13x18, Bring 'Em Back Alive, and the scene at the end never fails to break my heart. I just wanna make Dean feel better! 😫 But it got me thinking about how unlikely Dean would be to accept that help, and how his anger might manifest. Anyway, this is what spilled out of my brain as a result.

A/N 2: The title is a reference to Dean's line, "Every time we get close, it all falls apart. Every frickin' time." I have changed it to the non-network TV version because we all KNOW that's actually what Dean said.

You just wanted to help. You needed to help. You needed to make it better for him. 

Dean had slipped back home through the rift barely an hour earlier, talking about the apocalypse world Charlie and how he'd left her and Ketch behind, promising he would come back with reinforcements.

Then you, Cas and Sam had given him the bad news; no one could go back, you couldn’t send reinforcements. Gabriel was gone, taking all his archangel grace with him.

“So if it’s gone, then that means that we can’t open that door again. If we can’t open the door, then I shoulda never come back!” He'd shouted.

He'd tried to tamp down the rage and anger that simmered just behind his forced calm. Nevertheless, it exploded out of him making you all jump.

“Son of a bitch!” He'd screamed, sending books and papers crashing to the ground as he swept them from the table. “Every time!”

You could feel his frustration and pain like it was your own as his voice dropped, defeated and broken for the millionth time. “Every time we get close, it always falls apart…every fuckin’ time.”

When he walked away, looking as though the weight of the world was once again on his shoulders, you’d tried to follow after him, but Sam had grabbed your arm gently, holding you back.

“Leave him for now, Y/N. He needs time.”

You should have listened to Sam, but you could feel Dean’s pain like a lance in your side and you were desperate to heal him. So less than an hour later, you went looking for him. But he wasn’t in his room, or the Dean cave. The kitchen was empty and so was the garage. 

You finally found him in the infirmary. He was sitting on one of the beds, sewing together a nasty looking bullet wound.

“Dean!” You called out worriedly as you rushed down the steps. He glanced up at you but then went back to stitching himself up. “Why didn’t you tell us you’d been shot?” You reprimanded him.

He shrugged his unwounded shoulder. “No big deal. Ketch patched me up on the go, just didn’t have time to sew it up properly.”

You watched him silently for a moment, wincing every time the needle pierced his inflamed skin. He’d taken his shirt off so he could tend to his wound, and you couldn’t help but take an inventory of his other numerous scars. Jagged knife cuts, more round bullet holes, and a few waxy looking old burns, all marred his otherwise perfect, lightly freckled torso.

Some of the scars were very faded, barely noticeable, while others were newer; some of them were still red and angry looking. They were a patchwork of pain - a tapestry of more than thirty-five years of hunting, fighting, falling, getting up, and fighting again. 

It made you exhausted just to see it; it made your bones ache.

You stepped a little closer to him, but he kept you at arm’s length with an aura of silent, repressed anger that you could practically see pulsing off of him.

You wanted to help him so badly.

“Dean, I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head, not looking up from his work. “No, let’s not. I don’t wanna talk about it.”

You let out a small sigh. Of course you don’t. You thought with a flash of frustration.

You were quiet another minute as he finished the last few stitches. Then you smiled a little, trying a different tactic. “So, there was a Charlie over there? That’s amazing. What was she like? Was she the same as our Charlie?”

Dean didn’t answer right away. He snipped the thread he was using and tossed the small silver scissors back into the first aid kit he had open on the bed beside him. He took some rubbing alcohol and poured it onto a gauze pad, holding it to his wound and sucking in a breath through gritted teeth before answering.

“Yeah sure, she was like our Charlie.” His voice was a growl of pain. “She was a badass, determined to fight injustice, sticking up for her friends, risking her life for them. And yeah, just like our Charlie, I left her on her own to be butchered.”

Tears pricked your eyes. “Dean that’s not true…you didn’t-”

“Seriously, Y/N. Just fucking don’t.”

You were silenced again, watching him clean up and toss the bloody bandages into the trash as he stood up from the bed. He reached for his flannel and tried to put it on, slightly hampered by his newly bandaged shoulder. You stepped forward to help him with it, and when it was on, but still unbuttoned, you slid your hands inside, down over his ribs.

You kissed his chest gently, and felt him twitch slightly. 

“Y/N.” He said quietly and you could hear the warning in his tone. 

You knew he was in a bad place, and the two of you had only recently begun to move your relationship out of friendship and into something more, so sex was still new between you. But you felt the overwhelming, screaming need to help him, to hold him close and let him feel your love shine through. You’d been in love with him for a long time, but you’d never told him. You suspected he didn’t love you back, though you hoped he might someday.

For now, though, you’d settle for being a soft place to land, if he’d just let you.

“Dean.” You said softly, kissing his chest again. “Let me help you.”

He pushed you back and turned away. “I don’t need help.”

You persisted, wrapping your arms around his waist from behind. “We all need help from time to time, Dean.”

“Y/N!” He said again, louder this time, his earlier anger resurfacing. “I told you, I’m fine. Just drop it.”

But you couldn’t. You wanted to help him, whether he accepted it or not.

You moved around him, so you stood in front of him again. “Dean, you’re not fine. I just wanna help you.”

Dean scoffed. “Well you can’t fucking help me, Y/N. You can’t make it better.”

“I could try.” You cupped his cheek, but he pulled it out of your grasp, turning his head. You stood on tiptoe to try and kiss him. “Let me try, Dean. Let me try to help you.”

Dean grabbed your wrists from around his neck, glaring down at you, eyes blazing. “You fucking can’t, do you not hear me? You can’t help me, no one can help me! Because all I do is fuck up; all I do is leave my friends and family to die. And fucking you isn’t gonna change that; unless you have some kind of magical cunt that can open portals to another dimension, you can’t fucking help me!”

You felt your stomach drop, and an immediate ache started, high in your gut, clenching your insides and making you feel short of breath. You stepped back from Dean and swallowed convulsively, trying not to let go of the tears that clogged your throat. But it was a losing battle and they were soon coursing down your cheeks.

You nodded slightly. “K, yeah.” You didn’t know what else to say, turning away just as remorse began dawning in Dean’s emerald eyes. “Sam was right…I shouldn’t have come.”

You took off, bounding up the stairs as Dean called out to you. You ignored him, desperate to get away before you collapsed completely. 

You heard Dean following you, chasing you down the bunker hallway and you sprinted away. You got to your room just in time to slam the door and lock it just as Dean skidded to a halt outside.

He banged on the door, but you just moved over to your desk, dropping into the chair and swiping at your tears over and over, unable to make them stop.

“Y/N, come on! Open the door. Look, I didn’t mean that, okay? I just...just let me in.” He banged again. When you wouldn’t open it, he just kept banging. Finally he yelled at you through the wood.  “You know, I can just break down the fucking door! Let me in!”

He slammed his hammer like fist against the door again, rattling it in its frame. You jumped up and ripped open the door just as he was about to start pounding again. So his fist was raised and his features were twisted in a snarl as you looked up at him. But you were calm, even though tears still leaked from your eyes.

“Enough.” You said quietly. “Look, I shouldn’t have kept bugging you, you made it very clear you didn’t want me there and that I couldn’t be of any help. So, it’s fine. I’ll leave you alone now, and you can please stop raging at me and trying to smash down my door.”

You swallowed tightly and then nodded at him. “Goodnight.”

You closed your door softly and walked back to slump onto the end of your bed. You dashed your tears away as quickly as they fell, trying to dash away Dean’s angry words too, but failing miserably. 

After nearly half an hour your tears finally dried up and you decided to get ready for bed, sadness and hurt making you slow and sluggish. As you pulled your big sleep shirt on over your head, however, a noise caught your attention just outside your door. 

You walked softly to the door in your bare feet, cracking it open an inch to look out into the hallway. What you saw made brand new tears cloud your vision.

Dean was sitting across from your door, his back against the wall. His knees were bent slightly with his elbows resting there and his feet planted on the floor. His eyes were shut, his head leaning back against the wall with tears streaming silently down his cheeks. Or almost silently. As you watched, his face spasmed with pain and his breath seemed to catch in his throat, making the muffled sound you’d heard; it sounded like his pain was choking him.

You opened the door wider and Dean sensed you, his eyes springing open. At first it seemed like he might bolt, but then he shook his head as he stared at you. “Baby, I’m so sorry.” His voice was a harsh whisper. “I swear to god, I didn’t mean to hurt you like that. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with me.”

He thumped his head back against the wall twice. “I just break things. Everything.” He punctuated the word by slamming his elbow back into the wall as well, hard enough that you were worried he’d break the bone.

You hurried forward to kneel on the floor in front of him, squeezing in between his knees. You pulled his hands into yours as you tried to reassure him. “Dean, that isn’t true. You don’t break everything; you fix things, save things. It’s in your DNA to try to right all the wrongs in the world, but sometimes you just can’t.”

He stared at you intently and once again you found yourself desperate to try to ease the bottomless ache you could see in his mossy green eyes.

His voice was barely a whisper as he reached out to run his thumb across your cheekbone. “Did I break us?”

You took a deep breath. “Your words hurt me.” He closed his eyes and nodded. “But…”

You were quiet a moment before deciding it was worth taking a chance, so you just said it. “But I love you, and my love doesn’t break that easily, even if my heart does.”

You took his hand from your cheek and held it against your chest, over your heart. “Not ever. No matter what the future holds, my love is unbreakable, even when you try to smash it to pieces with both hands.”

Dean’s expression was closed off, and you couldn’t see through it to his thoughts. After a moment he shook his head. “Don’t love me, sweetheart. I can’t…I can’t protect you if you love me. Something will come and take you from me - use you to hurt me somehow.” He closed his eyes again and repeated his words from earlier in the evening. 

“Every time I get close, it always falls apart.” He opened his eyes slowly and stared intently into your soul. “Every fucking time.”

He gazed at you for a long time, and you let him, hoping he could see that you weren't afraid to love him, and you weren't going to be scared away.

Suddenly he reached out to yank you into his lap and slam his mouth down on yours. You gasped into the kiss and then whimpered as he clutched you tight to him.

He pulled away from you, breathing harshly. “Am I forgiven? Because I was such a liar. I do need you.” He dipped his head to nip at your pulse point and flick his tongue against your salty skin. “I need you so fucking bad.”

You nodded, flushed and aching for his touch. “You’re forgiven.”

He crushed your lips with his once again, standing up without letting you out of his arms. He pushed you backwards through your bedroom door and closed it with a soft click, as he yanked your t-shirt off over your head, getting you naked in one quick motion.

You pushed his open flannel down his arms, being careful not to aggravate his newest injury. You fumbled with the button on his jeans for a moment, hands trembling, as he palmed your breast and squeezed, pressing his hard, blunt fingertips into your yielding flesh.

You threw your head back as he pulled your nipple into his mouth and bit it gently. You sank your hands into his short hair, tugging sharply and moaning loudly. He pulled away, just far enough that he could spin you around to face the wall. With a hand against your upper back, he bent you over slightly and lifted your arms, so that you braced them against the brick.

Then he raised your right leg, wrapping his forearm over top of it and spreading you open. You felt the knuckles of his other hand brush over your dripping wet core as he unbuttoned his jeans. Seconds later, you felt his tip pressing against your entrance and then you let out a scream of pleasure as he slammed into you hard and fast.

As he fucked up into you, he pulled you open even wider, reaching down with his free hand to rub circles into your clit with his calloused fingertips.

Eventually he dropped your leg, and pushed your feet apart while he pulled your hips back towards him. He never faltered or slowed his pace, just manhandling you into the positions he wanted.

You were bent at a ninety degree angle now, hands still braced against the wall, with your head hanging between them as Dean continued to pound into you so deep that he was almost lifting you off the floor with each thrust. 

He clamped his hand on the back of your neck, using it as leverage to piston his hips forward like a jackhammer. He tilted your pelvis forward slightly and suddenly he was perfectly, relentlessly hitting your g-spot over and over until you were screaming out his name and crashing into a hard wall of pleasure. You shook with your climax, but Dean didn’t stop, riding you through your first orgasm and into several more.

Your throat was hoarse from shouts of pleasure before Dean finally cursed loudly, shouting your name and surging into your body. With one last driving push,  you could feel him spurting into you hot and thick. He rocked his body against yours a few more times as his cock continued to twitch inside you.

Finally he stilled, both of you breathing harshly now, bodies slick with sweat. He laid his chest against your back, his arm still wrapped around your waist, keeping you close, keeping himself locked inside your slick warmth.

“Y/N.” You could hear the thick emotions even in his soft whisper. “You know, you save me. Every time I think I can’t recover, every time I think I won’t get back up. You make me think I can. You tell me I will.” 

He paused and his voice was velvety and warm as he breathed out across your skin. “You save me.” He kissed your shoulder gently. “Every fucking time.”

Jensen RPF and Any/All Characters:

@lyarr24

@lacilou

@deans-spinster-witch

@globetrotter28

@suckitands33

@alwaystiredandconfused

@evznackles

@jackles010378

@impala67rollingthroughtown

@krazykelly

@candy-coated-misery0731

@envyaurora95

@spnwoman

@deans-baby-momma

@luvr4miya

@arcannaa

@viviwatchestv

@winharry

@ladysparkles78

@kr804573

Dean Fics Only:

@roonthelittlespoon920

@slamminmine

@zepskies

@safiyas-world

@aylacavebear

@waywardcheshire

Any/All Fics Regardless of Character or Fandom:

@kazsrm67

@slut-for-evans-stan

@sexyvixen7

@nancymcl

@hobby27

Everything Incl. Fan Edits:

@k-slla

@leigh70

@eevvvaa

@kickingitwithkirk

@foxyjwls007

@notinthislife50

@roseblue373

@mishkatelwarriorgoddess

@avanatural

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@all-alone-he-turns-to-stone

@deangirl96

@stoneyggirl2

[zepskies]

Hey, I’ve really enjoyed reading your imagines. Would you be up for writing one where either Dean / Solider Boy / Beau, I don’t mind, has done something to upset/piss off the reader and goes out his way to make it up to her and then it’s all fluffy? I’m definitely in the readers position right now and hoping that’s what’s happening! Thank you.

Hey lovely anon!

Ooh this is interesting. So you didn't exactly ask for this, but this is where my mind went. I really enjoyed doing an imagine called "How Dean, Beau, and Ben would react to seeing your breast reduction scars."

So I'm going to do this one in that style...

Pairings: Dean Winchester x F. Reader, Beau Arlen x F. Reader, Soldier Boy/Ben x F. Reader

Tags/Warnings: Angst, arguments, hurt/comfort, fluff

Headcanon: How Dean, Beau, and Ben would make up for pissing you off.

Dean Winchester

Readers of Devour Me will recognize this scenario...

Dean can be an asshole sometimes. He knows it, but that side of him tends to come out along with his protective side.

He gave you...what you would consider a "firm suggestion" on a hunt. In his mind, it was a warning you were meant to follow: hang back.

The vampire nest was bigger than you guys expected.

You jumped in to save the woman they were keeping chained...but she was already drained dry. A vamp caught you, but before you could swing your knife, hot teeth sank into your neck.

Your scream rang through the air, tearing from your throat.

Dean's machete soon followed, killing the vampire and saving you in the process. He hid the depths of his worry. His fear, when he heard your scream, saw the monster bearing on you.

He buried the true depths of that turmoil and later holds you while Cas heals you. You thank him with a sigh and look up at Dean. Before you can apologize for ignoring his warning, his words simultaneously cut you to the bone and spark a blaze:

"I hope you learned your damn lesson," he says.

"Excuse me?" you hotly reply.

"You fucking heard me! When I say 'hang back,' I mean it. Hang the hell back."

"I've been hunting long before I met you, Dean."

"Yeah, well. Color me surprised that you've made it this long."

And that sparks the knock-down drag-out fight you and Dean have in the dirty, blood-splattered barn in the middle of nowhere. Even Sam and Cas are uncomfortable in the midst of you and Dean as they deal with the bodies of the vamps.

You don't let Dean touch you that night, even though you two still share the same bed. You sleep turned away from him, curled in on yourself.

He doesn't know how to make you understand. The sight of you with blood covering your neck and shoulder, running down over and under your shirt...

He hates it more than anything.

Even in the morning, the memory of your scream rings in his ears.

You've woken up before him, leaving your side of the bed empty. He wanders into the kitchen and finds you with your cup of coffee, stirring the creamer in for far too long. He watches you for a moment. He sees you're lost in thought. Maybe your eyes are a bit haunted.

He hates that too.

"Hey, sweetheart," he greets. His voice is still a deep rumble, but his gentleness is an olive branch.

You recognize that, and your own features soften. The truth is, you're too upset and spent to be angry anymore. You really just need him back.

He guides you into his arms, presses a kiss to your forehead, and sighs.

"...Look, I'm sorry," he says. He's grateful, even for this moment. Because it means you're safe, with him.

"I'm sorry too," you reply. You squeeze him tighter and bury your face in his chest. "I love you."

Dean hesitates. His heart clenches, both with warmth and the fear of what could have been. He lets out another deep breath as his fingers soothe through your hair.

"Love you too."

Beau Arlen

Don't let that adorable scruff fool you. Beau has his moments, just like everyone else...

You don't want to feel like the jealous "other woman." Because that certainly isn't what you are.

You and Beau have been dating for a while now. You know this is something special. He is special. A big-hearted man who leads by example, and makes his daughter a priority in his life.

You admire that more than anything. You've come to love Emily as well...

However, he's been consistently cancelling on you. Dates you'd planned, dinners you'd made, "office picnics" at the precinct that got rain-checked more than the goddamn weather channel.

It seems like any time you and Beau try to carve out a moment for each other, it gets waylaid by something that "just can't wait."

Sometimes it's due to the demands of his job (which you understand).

But more often, it's because he seems to drop everything to heed his ex-wife's requests, large and small. From moving boxes in downsizing her house, to picking up her dry cleaning.

Carla always laces her requests (demands) with something understandable, like dropping off Emily at school. As a lawyer, she's smart like that.

But you're smart too, and you see her game.

She's slowly but surely wrapping Beau around her finger, and it's driving you insane.

"Can't you see she's manipulating you?!" you finally ask him. Your hands gesture widely, your brows are knitted together, and so are Beau's. His mouth is pressed in a line.

"The hell do you mean?" he asks.

"Exactly what I'm saying," you retort. "She asks you to jump, and you say, How high, darlin'?"

Part of him wants to smile at your exaggerated Texan approximation of him. But mostly, he's irritated.

"That's not true! I'm just trying to do right by her. She's the mother of my kid--"

Your hand presses against your forehead.

"I know that, Beau. Of course I do," you say. Against your will, your deepest fears take hold. They make you feel ugly inside for thinking them, let alone saying them.

"But...either she wants you back, or maybe you want her."

Beau's frown deepens. "What? What're you talkin' about."

He tries to grab your hand, but you evade him. You cross your arms to give you the excuse you need to hold yourself together.

He blows out a frustrated breath and shakes his head. "She left me, remember?"

"Things change. Feelings change," you say hotly. Your eyes run over his face, as if trying to search his heart.

Beau finally understands just what you're thinking. He softens.

And then his expression firms.

"Not for me," he says.

He reaches for you. You allow him to grasp your elbows. He steps closer into your line of vision until his broad frame is all you can see, but you refuse to look up at him. Not until his curled finger prods under your chin, raising your face up to his.

His face lacks the jovial nature he usually carries, with a side of teasing that usually drives you crazy and lightens your heart in equal measure.

No. Right now, he's serious. His thumb grazes your cheek.

"Sweetheart, I'm not going anywhere. I'm sorry if I made you think otherwise."

Your eyes are lowered, with unshed tears swimming in them. Until Beau presses his lips to your cheek. Your eyes close, and you take in the tenderness of his touch. The smell of his cologne.

When you next open your eyes, he's smiling softly down at you. It leads you to smile a little.

"It'd be nice if you didn't cancel on me so much then," you can't help but mutter, a bit petulantly.

Beau's smile slips a bit. "I sure am sorry about that. And I'll talk to Carla. But uh..."

The rest of his good humor fades. "She mentioned something about taking Emily back to Houston."

Your eyes widen. Your hand moves to grip his wrist. "What?"

"I guess I was just...tryin' to butter her up a bit. If she settled in that new house, had everything she needed, maybe she'd stop thinking about leaving," he admits. "I want her to do what's best for Emily, but...I don't know if I can take it if she's in a whole other state."

You bite your lip. You try to soothe him with your fingers carding through his hair. You pull him into your embrace, and the roles of comfort reverse.

"You do need to talk to Carla," you say. "But I want to help, in whatever way I can. You just let me know."

You can't see it, but Beau smiles as he holds you a fraction tighter.

"You already are."

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ugh, this (lovable) bastard...

There are a lot of opportunities to piss you off, and Ben has a habit of taking them.

He's protective, misogynistic (though you're surely trying with him), and doesn't give two shits about modern social protocols like tolerance and respect.

Nor does he give a fuck about being "nice" or "pleasant" if he doesn't want to. (And he never wants to.)

When he pisses you off, however, you have to pick your battles.

You're as patient as you can be with him, knowing all of his idiosyncrasies and foibles as well as you've come to learn them.

But when he nearly snaps a man's arm off for grabbing your ass in a musky club, you have to draw the line.

(Ben settled for jabbing the man in the face, hard enough to toss him back into an entire row of glasses. You'd winced at the man's scream of pain as glass shattered into his back.)

When you send your boyfriend a look, he's both unfazed and unapologetic.

"What, would you rather have that greasy fuck pawing all over you? No one's gonna have the balls to cop a feel right in front of me, unless they want 'em shoved up their ass."

You make a face of disgust, roll your eyes, and angrily storm out of the club. Ben follows you, now getting just as irritated. He grabs your arm and turns you around.

"What the fuck is your problem?" he demands. You raise a brow.

"Not everything is an affront to your manhood," you reply testily. "Are you really protecting me, or is it just your petty pride that another man would dare touch what's 'yours?'"

You turn to walk away from him, but he grabs you again. This time by the hand. He barely resists the urge to yank you back.

No, Ben waits for you to choose. To turn back to him. You're frowning in your anger, but even he can see the thread of hurt deep down. The fear that his motivations are only selfish.

His jaw ticks. But he sighs through his nose. "Come 'ere."

Reluctant though you seem, you take a chance in drawing back into him. His arms circle around you, with those heavy hands splaying across your lower back. He cages you securely against him and looks down you. His eyes are a fraction softer.

"You are mine," he says. "I'm not gonna let these cocksuckers forget it. Because I've got plenty of enemies who'd do more than just touch you."

It sucks to be reminded of that fact, but it's the cold reality. Still, you soften, seeing the sincerity in his eyes.

He's trying to send the world a clear message: he won't tolerate bullshit, of any kind. Least of all with you.

That, you can appreciate.

And you lean up to press a sweet kiss to his lips.

Knowing Ben, it doesn't stay sweet for long.

AN: Whew! 😮‍💨 Lots of angst diverted into hurt/comfort and fluff, there.

Do you guys like these Dean/Beau/Ben "reacts?" Let me know! 😉

Dean Winchester Imagines

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Big Sky Masterlist

Soldier Boy Masterlist

Main Masterlist

DW, BA & SB Tag List (Part 1):

@melancholictearz @katherineann83 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman

@iprobablyshipit91 @agalliasi @venicesem @deans-spinster-witch @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @mimaria420 @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @skyesthebomb @this-is-me19 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore

@agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @emily-winchester @tearsfortheyouth @solo-pitstop-vibes @dope-trope-105 @liuope @beautyvaliant @xxlaynaxx @beskarfilms @tmb510 @iamsapphine @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @lacilou

[spnbabe67]

I Just Died In Your Arms Tonight

Kinktober Day 29: Cockwarming

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Smut, PiV, Feels

Summary: Post-hunt cuddles turn into something more

Word Count: 1486

Authors Note: Title based on the song (I Just) Died In Your Arms by Cutting Crew

I've alluded to this 'ritual' before in a couple of my Dean x Tori fics. I've always wondered how, exactly, the aftermath of a hunt would go. A lot of adrenaline and endorphins are probably running through the body after literally fighting for your life against horrific creatures. It's a fictional scenario, but I wanted to try my hand at writing what it would be like (with a smutty twist because it is kinktober after all)

Tag List: @zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @nightxcreature

One of Tori’s favorite places to be is in Dean’s arms. Wrapped up in them she felt safe, a feeling that was fleeting when you live a life of constant danger running from things most people only thought existed in their darkest nightmares. She’d lacked a home for years, and it had taken a long time to get to this point, to where Dean, and by extension Sam and the Bunker, had become that home for her. That her room she shared with Dean was hers and that there was no check out time she had to adhere to, no key to return at the end of the stay. Permanency, it was a weird thing, but one she didn’t often take for granted. 

Even when the hunts went so smoothly, all three of them moving in sync, the after was a tender moment, the adrenaline dropping off sharply from their systems. After the showers, after the change of clothes, Tori always gravitated to Dean, both of them tangled up in a Gordian knot of limbs in their bed. 

Tonight was no different. Tori and Dean both had trudged to the showers immediately after arriving back at the Bunker. All three of them were covered head to toe in blood, dirt, sweat and Tori didn’t even want to think about what else coated her skin. The eldritch horror they’d managed to gank had spewed some death spray upon its demise, and she’d been right in its path of destruction. No matter how hard she scrubbed, she couldn’t seem to get the putrid smell out of her nose, convinced some of its guts must be shoved up there. 

Tori had heard Dean’s shower go off long before hers, knowing her lover would just meet her back in their room. She toweled off dry, doing her best to wring out most of the moisture from her mane before tossing the towel in the hamper, wrapping a fuzzy robe around her body for the walk from the bathroom. Dean was sitting propped up against the headboard when Tori finally shuffled back into the room.

“I feel so much better it’s not even funny.” Tori sighed, hanging her robe on the back of the closed bedroom door. 

“I bet.” Dean cracked his eyes open, watching her toy with her hair, a nervous tic he’d picked up on.

Tori tugged on a dark strand she’d coiled around her index finger before letting it go. She needed a trim, the fraying ends falling just above her hips.

“That stuff smelled so awful. I felt bad for you and Sam havin’ to ride back with me.” Tori chuckled.

But the momentary jest faded and she took a deep breath, feeling the rush of the hunt, the adrenaline that had been coursing through her quickly evaporating, leaving her feeling almost empty. 

Dean, ever the observant one, opened his arms as she turned back around to face him. “Hey, c’mere.” His voice was warm and placating, an invitation as much as it was an attempt at reassurance.

She quickly plaited her hair, securing it with an elastic before walking over to Dean’s side of the bed. His warm hands fell to her hips as she straddled his waist, their bodies pressed together as much as physically possible. Tori buried her face in his neck as Dean wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her close, breathing her in. The ritual of it, this getting so close but feeling so far, wasn’t new. It was a way of collectively dealing with the loss of adrenaline, working through the near-death experiences, remembering that despite the spattered blood and gore behind their eyes when they fell asleep that the other was still here. 

Tori giggled into Dean’s neck as she felt something poke against her inner thigh. Dean’s hands grasped her hips in a mock scolding way.

“You’re sitting naked on my lap, what else do you expect, Tor?” Dean stammered, smoothing his palms up and down the tops of her thighs.

“It’s fine, Babe.” Tori couldn’t help but smile at the blush painting his neck and face a pretty shade of pink. 

“Tor, where-” Dean started as Tori lifted herself up, but quickly shut up as she reached behind her, grasping his length, holding it steady as she sheathed him inside her. “Fuuuck.”

“There,” Tori breathed, wrapping her arms back around his waist, resting her head back on his shoulder. “That’s better.”

In its own way this served its own role in the ritual. Neither one of them could ever get close enough to truly fill that dip in adrenaline and cortisol, and it wasn’t the first time this need for closeness ended with Dean inside her. It was about as close as they could get without physically crawling under the others' skin to find a place to call home, even when that was all Tori’s body was screaming at her to do. 

Dean’s hands explored her body in smooth, sweeping lines. Up her thighs from her knees, across her hips, up her back and down again. They sat like that for longer than Tori cared to keep track, letting their bodies reregulate to the rhythm of the other; their breaths were nearly in sync, his heartbeat thudding under her ear. Slowly Tori could that jittery and on-edge feeling subside, her body exiting fight or flight mode, leaving exhaustion in its wake

Tori could feel her eyelids start to grow heavy, but the not-so-small fact that Dean’s cock was nestled inside her kept the sleepy feeling just far enough away. She knew the same subtle restless feeling was tugging at Dean by the way he kept shifting under her. Granted, Dean wasn’t exactly good at sitting still, the untreated ADHD prohibited her lover from sitting for long periods of time without something to keep that racing mind occupied. Maybe his legs were starting to go numb, her own had fallen asleep long before. 

She gave an experimental roll of her hips, the movement subtle and testing, unable to conjure up enough energy to truly move atop him. Still, her movement had Dean’s wandering hands still on her waist, fingers curling into her skin as he let out a surprised sound from the back of his throat. Dean caught on quick enough as Tori ground against him, simply shifting her hips back and forth enough to create friction against her clit, sliding just enough on his cock to have both of their breathing start to go ragged. Tori dragged her lips up the side of his neck and along his jaw, stubble scraping against them, until she found his mouth. 

The kiss was just as lazy as their hips, Dean’s tongue sweeping into her mouth with languid strokes in the same breath as his hand coming up to cup her face. He always touched her with such conviction. He cherished her in a way that made Tori feel so damn special, so complete. He was never greedy, taking only as much as she gave him with not so much as a whisper of discontent. Even now, when both of them were bone tired, he let her set the pace. Tori was half convinced he’d kneel before her and worship at her feet if she asked, not that she ever would, nor would she want him too; they’d both been on their knees for too long and for the wrong reasons, never again, not even for her, would Tori want him needlessly down on his knees again.

Slowly, that pit in her belly grew, her movements becoming incrementally more animated as she felt the sensations building. Her hand came up to cup his face, her other resting on his chest, palm pressed skin to skin over his heart as she rolled her hips against his. Tori panted into Dean’s mouth feeling that tug grow tighter and tighter. His hand on her hip gave her an encouraging squeeze, the reassurance pushing her over the edge. Dean tugged her close, supplementing her climax by tilting his hips up into her, chasing his own high which came not long after. 

Dean carefully maneuvered them back down the bed, sliding himself out of her. His arms wrapped around her middle kept her lounged on top of him, continuing the lazy lines up and down her back. 

“I love it when we do this.” Tori muttered into his chest.

“Have sex.” Dean joked, earning him a swat to his arm.

“No, jackass.” Tori crinkled her nose at him. “You know what I mean.”

“I do.” Dean chuckled, the deep sound resounding through her body. 

Tori smiled softly at him, leaning up to peck a kiss to his lips. “I love you.”

Dean’s hand slid up her back, cupping the nape of her neck. “I know.”

“My God you’re a dork.”

“You love it.” Dean grinned at Tori.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Tori.”

[k2ntoss]

UNTITLED N°1 !! demon dean

(gif from pinterest, credits to the owner)

tw ⭒ minors dni, SMUT, dirty talk, dean x f!reader, did i already said this is demon dean shit???? i am vibrating on another level istg, fingering (f. receiving), sex toys (vibrator), spanking, oral (m. receiving), p in v, public space, unprotected sex, etc.

a/n ⭒ ian i swear i'll hunt you down for giving me ideas EVERY FUCKING DAY and yeah, implicit the fact of the lipgloss stuff i wrote for jason but a bit different here, it's 1 am and i'm going back home from a party so prob no proof read, shhhh

words count ⭒ 2.505 (at this point i don't even dream of doing something short)

dean was changed since the last time you saw him, right before he received the mark of cain and way before he turned into a damn demon, sam and you looked for him for days until you stumbled with him outside of a night club which wasn't the best situation to find the guy who was supposed to be your boyfriend, the one that once treated you like the most important thing on his life and now only thought of you as another one night stand.

and what are you doing at a night club? well, long night and almost no sleep so you decided to take baby for a ride and maybe look for dean and here you are, standing in front of him while you fight the urge to punch him right across the face when you notice the lipstick smudges he has all over his jaw and neck "you're fucking amazing, dean" the sarcasm that drips from your voice seems to amuse him, dean grins at you with arms crossed over his chest as he walks closer "looks like you can't remember you shouldn't take the things that don't belong to you, sweetheart" he ignores your annoyance completely, walking around you with heavy steps almost as if he was a predator and you were a sick little animal to hunt and torture.

"yeah? i couldn't care less, what the hell are you doing here?" right behind the club the parking lot is almost empty, the led lights drawing shades on your bodies and the muffled music being almost completely hushed by your voice "having fun, can't a man have fun with a bunch of pretty girls? or are you getting jealous?" he has always had a smart mouth but this time his words do hurt a little but they also fuel your anger "you're being an ass, dean" words come out as a growl, avoiding his question because he already knows the answer damn well, it doesn't take humanity to understand that she loved the dean she used to know and that this dean only made her remember him but here again, he couldn't care less about your feelings right now.

"and you're being a pain in the ass, darling" he'll reply once he's in front of you, a devilish smirk on his lips at the same time he leans in making your heart rush because even with dean being a demon there was still an ounce of the man you loved and that minimal part of him still wanted you and only you, it was enough for it to take over and make you notice the glimpse of desire he had, a growing need to press his lips on yours and pin you against the impala, the same one that has already been the place for a good amount of the times you've let yourself melt into each other's touch and oh, if the evil side of dean hasn't used those memories to get off to your vulnerable image when you tremble under your lover. the way he stands so close to you, how he looks at your lips and licks his owns makes you shiver, making your lips part before he gives into your dean's needs; his lips are over yours, a bruising kiss as his hands grip your waist roughly, his touch making you moan from the pain his hands inflicted on your flesh.

once he pulled back you were panting and dean was living for that, his hand ran until it was on your neck "i think i have something in mind that you could enjoy, i miss someone misses fucking you dumb..." he whispers while tilting your head up to make you look up at him, green eyes fixed on yours made feel hypnotized until the point you walked to the passenger seat as dean got behind the steering wheel, the sigh making you even more hungry because the way he drove always made things to you. dean made the engine roar, pulling into the road until you both were sure it was safe to start anything. dean leaned to your side, his arm going behind your sit until he was able to reach a small vibrator he had used before with you, one of your road adventures from the past "are you gonna be good for me?" his voice was filled with a hint of what felt like mischief but also that cockiness that was part of him, you knew that maybe this wasn't the best idea, you should be the one driving to take dean back to the bunker but you mind was full of the bunch of memories of your boyfriend's dick deep inside of you and that was enough to make you forget any other responsability for at least a while, it had been a good long time since the last time you had any kind of sexual interaction thanks to him so, why not take the chance? so you nodded at him, lips pressed in a thin line as you waited for his next move.

there's a smirk on dean's face as he drives single handled, twisting the small vibrator between his fingers, dropping it on your thigh while you shift on your seat "sit pretty and spread those pretty legs of yours for me" he orders simply and you obey, legs spread enough for him to reach with his hand, undoing your belt and buttons before he slides two fingers under your clothes, starting to caress you slowly, torturing he plays with your clit circling over it before he pinches it softly making you moan shamelessly "fuck, dean..." you mutter when one of your hands goes to grab his wrist to make him stop when his fingers circle a bit faster "oh, you're being a little killjoy" he taunts with a click of his tongue but he takes his hand off you to grab the toy, turning it on just to slide it until he's able to press it against your sensitive bud, the vibrations making you gasp and hold onto the leather seat "just as slutty as always, aren't you? bet you've been dreaming about being fucked by me a lot lately" words making you moan and buck your hips, your eyes fixed on his movements when dean takes his hand away again, fingers coated on your wetness which he licks while glacing at you, the action only making you squirm in need of his mouth on you "and also as sweet as always, mhm, i could pull over and eat your pussy but i have other things in mind... close your legs, baby, and don't even think you can cum before i say you can."

with your legs closed the vibrator was pressed a little harder on your clit, it makes you sigh and whimper in the five eternal minutes it takes dean to find a good place to pull over, behind a small bar. he opens the door, getting to the back seat and sitting there, legs spread and his arms across the back of the seat "aren't you gonna come here, baby?" he asks teasingly, of course he was asking you to walk yourself out of the car and to the back seat, shaky legs and overstimulated, cursing him on your mind but still growing needier so when you get off the car and open the back door you can't help but bite your lip when dean is there undoing his belt and taking it off slowly with his eyes glued to you "come here and lay on my lap, sweetheart" he takes your hand in his, pulling you in taking advantage of your weak legs to make you lay on his lap, tummy flat over the seat while your hips rest over his legs when he closes the door before his hand stops on your ass, stroking you softly as he started to pull your jeans down slowly exposing your silky panties, chuckling lowly at the sight of the wet spot between your legs where the vibrator was still making you squirm and moan "so fucking wet, mhm? thought you would be harder to break down... such a easy whore" dean's voice is as rough and low as all the times you've found yourself so needy and hot for him, the big difference was that right now he was indeed a big bad wolf about to eat you alive.

every thought was erased of your head as soon as you felt his belt comming down to hit your ass, making you moan as dean's free hand snaked between your thighs to pull off the vibrator "oh, the little girl enjoys being spanked? you have a pretty sick mind, huh, you like being treated as a slut?" another spank falls on your rear, making you squirm and hold back a loud whimper before you nod "i love it... when you treat me like that" you moan, your reaction brings a wide grin to his face as he lets the leather belt fall again on your ass, the red marks of it standing over your skin as a sing of the way it would bruise by the morning, fuel for dean to keep it up until your cheeks were all red, your hips up with your ass on the air and your eyes teary from how much you needed him "god... dean, please" you beg and he growls at your voice.

"down. on your knees" he is quick to command, making you kneel on the floor, sitting all pretty and obedient between his legs as he undoes his jeans, pulling them down with his boxers making your mouth water at how hard his dick was in front of you "open that pretty mouth of yours, i want to fuck your face" the amount of dirty words turning you, leaning in you place your hands on his thighs while your tongue runs over his lenght tasting him and moaning softly at the way dean is looking at you. the growl he lets out when your lips are wrapped around his tip is gutural, his left hand going to grab a handful of your hair while you suck on him, tiny licks on him that leave your lips shiny from his precum "never thought a slut could look as pretty as you, mhm, those lips all pretty and shiny for me" he says in a low and raspy tone before he pulls your head by your hair, pressing his cock between your lips to make you swallow him right before he starts to move you, his hands making you bob your head causing you to gag and choke. your eyes are closed but it doesn't stop a few tears from falling from your eyes while dean pushes his dick into your mouth, throat fucking you between growls and moans of pure pleasure, smirking each time you gag and chuckling when he lets you pull away to breath but it doesn't take you too much until you're again looking to put his dick into your mouth "oh, baby so hungry... a needy whore that loves choking on my cock"

you whine when dean pulls you away from him, his hand grips your hair to bring you back to his lap but this time he makes you sit with your back pressed against his chest "i need to fuck that sweet pussy of yours, sweetheart, wanna see you ride me like a fucktoy" he whispers into your ear before making you lean forward, your ass perfectly pressed against him and a nice view of your hips and waist when he lifts you up and pulls your panties to the side before pushing his dick inside your snug walls in a rough thrust "so damn thight... gonna make you scream, baby" dean growls while his hands hold your waist to urge you to start moving.

at first you're just grinding your hips against his, feeling his dick moving inside of you in a way that made you moan softly but the need building inside your tummy made your movements change into quick and sloppy hops while you held yourself on the front seats, tits bouncing and your ass slapping against his body "that's a good bunny, fucking yourself on my cock like a good slut" a low moan escapes his lips and his hands are sliding under your black top, lifting the fabric until his hands are squeezing your breasts "you know how i love it when you're not wearing anything under your shirts? love this perfect tits of yours" you moan when his fingers are toying with your nipples at the same time he decides to move his hips to meet your movements, making him reach deeper inside of you.

anyone who came out of the bar sober enough could see what was going out inside of the impala, the sight of you bouncing with your eyes closed and mouth open as you moaned loudly enough to be heard if someone came closer to the car, it only turned you on more and it showed in the way your pussy clenched around dean like a vice, his strokes only going faster and harder when your legs started to fail you to keep on bouncing on him "who would have thought you would like to be seen getting fucked like a whore, mhm, you enjoy the way everyone knows you're getting dicked down so good, baby?" and you nod, your moans making it hard for you to speak properly, dean is laughing at you and it's humillating but it also makes you hornier "dean... i need to cum, please" your pleas are met with a hard squeeze on your tits and a hard thrust "really, bunny?" he asks with a smirk, hands back on your waist before he leans in to press a kiss on your back "do it, baby, cum all over my cock" and it takes you nothing, your pussy is squeezing him hard making a dark growl escape him and you're about to ask him to fill you up when dean lifts you, sitting you on his lap " 'm not filling your greedy pussy, love, not like you deserve it" he grunts, his hand around his dick as he strokes himself.

dean growls behind you, he's fisting his cock and moving his hand using your wetness to make his task easier and the lewd sounds make you eager to feel his hot load wherever he wants to put it on you "mhm, want me to cum on your dirty body, slut?" he asks with a smirk as his hand slows down for a bit "yes, please..." you say softly and it's the only thing dean needs before he cums behind you, white streaks painting your back and ass as he bites your shoulder harshly "there you go, huh... such a nasty whore" dean mutters on your neck, kissing your skin and nibbling on it "the best fuck i've had lately"

[cheynovak]

Something out of a movie 

Warnings: hurt, break up, anger,  nothing to worry

English is not my first language 

Summary: Y/N finds out about Dean's live when a demon used her as bait. Dean feels guilty, while Y/N is willing to fight for their relationship. Which ends in a conversation neither had planned to have.

Thanks @jackles010378 for sharing/reblog those gifs earlier, this gave me some inspiration.

*This story is my own original story, please do not copy my work, reblog/comments/likes are appreciated* 

--

The Impala's engine roared as Dean Winchester sped down the dark, empty highway. The silence inside the car was suffocating, a sharp contrast to the chaos they had just left behind. Sam sat in the backseat, glancing nervously between his brother and Y/N. She was sitting in the passenger seat, arms wrapped around herself, staring out the window. Her reflection in the glass was pale, her eyes dull and lifeless—haunted by the events that had unfolded.

Dean’s knuckles were white as he gripped the steering wheel, his jaw clenched tight. He could feel the tension in the air, the words unspoken but heavy, waiting to be unleashed. His heart pounded with guilt and fear, two emotions he rarely let himself feel. But seeing Y/N possessed, watching as the demons toyed with her, had shaken him to his core.

The drive back to the motel was a blur, and before Dean knew it, they were pulling into the parking lot. The gravel crunched under the tires as he parked, and the silence stretched even longer as he turned off the engine. Sam didn’t need to be told twice; he silently slipped out of the car, giving them the space they needed.

Dean watched his brother walk towards the motel, then turned to Y/N, who was still staring out the window, her face unreadable. He took a deep breath, knowing what needed to be said but dreading it all the same.

“Y/N,” he started, his voice rough, but she didn’t turn to look at him. That only made the knot in his stomach tighten.

“Y/N, look at me,” Dean tried again, softer this time. Slowly, she turned, her eyes meeting his. There was pain there, anger, and something else—something that made his heart ache.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” she asked quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. The question hung in the air, and Dean flinched, knowing he had no good answer.

He ran a hand over his face, sighing deeply. “I was trying to protect you,” he said finally. “This life… it’s dangerous. I didn’t want you to get hurt.”

Y/N’s gaze hardened, and she shook her head. “Protect me? By lying to me? By keeping me in the dark while demons were out there using me as bait to get to you?”

Dean’s mouth opened, but no words came out. She was right, and he knew it. Keeping her in the dark hadn’t protected her—it had nearly gotten her killed. But that didn’t change the fact that being with him put her in constant danger.

“I didn’t want this for you,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I didn’t want you to be a part of this nightmare.”

“But I am a part of it, Dean!” Y/N snapped, her voice rising in anger. “Whether you wanted me to be or not, I’m in it now. And I’m not afraid for myself. I’m afraid for you. You go out there every day, fighting these things, risking your life. I’m terrified that one day you won’t come back.”

The rain started to fall, a soft drizzle at first, but quickly growing heavier. It was like the sky was echoing the storm between them. Dean stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him, and Y/N followed, the rain soaking through their clothes in seconds.

“This is exactly why we can’t do this,” Dean said, his voice louder now, almost shouting to be heard over the downpour. “You caring about me—worrying about me—it’s gonna get you killed!”

“I don’t care!” Y/N yelled back, stepping closer, her fists clenched at her sides. “I don’t care about the danger, Dean. I care about you. Don’t you get it? I’m not going anywhere. Not unless you’re walking away from me.”

“Y/N…” Dean started, his voice trembling with the weight of everything he wanted to say but couldn't find the words for. She stared at him, her eyes full of desperation and pain. “You’re walking away, is that it?” she asked, her voice cracking with emotion. “After all this, after everything we’ve been through, you’re just going to leave me?”

Dean’s chest tightened, the accusation in her voice cutting deeper than any demon’s blade ever could. He didn’t answer immediately, just stood there, staring at her as the rain drenched them both. Her hair clung to her face, her clothes soaked through, and all he could think about was how he had brought her into this—how it was his fault she was standing here, hurt and angry and scared.

The storm inside him finally broke, the anger and frustration bubbling to the surface. He clenched his fists, his voice rising as he shouted, “You don’t get it, do you? I’m trying to save you! Every damn day I’m out there, I’m one mistake away from getting killed. And if something happens to you because of me—because of this life—I won’t be able to live with myself!”

Y/N flinched at his words, but she didn’t back down. Instead, she stepped closer, her voice steady despite the tears that threatened to spill. “And what about me, Dean? What about how I feel? I’m not some damsel in distress that needs saving! I choose to be with you, knowing the risks, and I’m not going to let you decide what’s best for me!”

“That’s the problem!” Dean shouted back, his voice thick with emotion. “You shouldn’t have to choose! You should be safe, living a normal life, not dragged into this mess!”

“You think I care about normal?” she fired back, her eyes blazing with intensity. “I don’t want normal, Dean. I want you. I want us. And if that means facing down demons and whatever else this life throws at us, then so be it. But I’m not going to stand by and watch you walk away because you’re scared!”

“I don’t know how to do this,” Dean admitted, his voice breaking. “I don’t know how to keep you safe and let you in at the same time.”

The rain pounded around them, each drop like a hammer against the tension in the air. Dean’s chest heaved with the effort of holding back the torrent of emotions raging inside him. He knew what he was about to say would shatter everything, but he couldn’t stop himself. His voice was low and hoarse as he finally forced out the words he had been dreading.

“We’re over,” he said, his voice breaking under the weight of the lie. “I should have never… this—” He pointed between them, his hand trembling slightly. “This should have never been anything more than a one-night stand.”

Y/N froze, the words hitting her like a physical blow. Her heart stopped, and for a moment, it felt like the world had been ripped out from under her. The rain blurred her vision, but it couldn’t hide the tears that welled up in her eyes, spilling over and mixing with the rain on her cheeks. She looked at him, her expression a mix of shock, pain, and disbelief.

“What?” she whispered, her voice barely audible over the rain. But Dean didn’t repeat himself. He couldn’t. He had to stick to the lie, had to push her away—no matter how much it tore him apart.

“I’ll drive you home in the morning,” he continued, his voice flat, devoid of the emotion that was clawing at his insides. “I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s breath caught in her throat, the pain in her chest so intense it felt like she couldn’t breathe. She started to back up, shaking her head slowly, as if she could deny the reality of what he was saying. “No,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “No, you don’t mean that.”

But Dean didn’t respond, and the silence that followed was more damning than anything he could have said. Y/N’s eyes filled with fresh tears, and she turned away from him, unable to stand the sight of him anymore. She couldn’t understand—how could he say those things after everything they’d been through, after everything they’d just confessed to each other?

Without another word, she turned and started walking away, the rain soaking through her clothes, chilling her to the bone. She didn’t know where she was going; she just knew she had to get away, had to put distance between herself and the man who had just ripped her heart out.

“Y/N!” Dean called after her, panic rising in his voice. He took a step forward, but she didn’t stop. “Y/N, stop! It’s not safe out here at night!”

She paused for a split second, his words hanging in the air, but then she shook her head, her voice full of hurt and bitterness as she responded. “What do you care?” she shouted back, her voice cracking. “You just said we’re over. So why should you care if it’s safe or not?”

Dean’s heart twisted painfully at her words, but he forced himself to stay where he was, his feet rooted to the spot. Every instinct screamed at him to run after her, to take back everything he’d just said, to tell her the truth—that he loved her, that he was only trying to protect her. But he didn’t move. He had to let her go. He had to believe that she’d be safer away from him, no matter how much it hurt.

“Please, Y/N, just come back,” he pleaded, his voice softer now, almost drowned out by the rain. But she didn’t turn around. She kept walking, the rain falling harder, soaking through her clothes, her footsteps fading into the night.

The rain pounded relentlessly on the pavement as Dean stood frozen in place, his heart hammering in his chest. He watched Y/N disappear into the night, the shadows swallowing her whole. Every fiber of his being screamed that he had made a terrible mistake, that letting her walk away was the worst thing he could have done.

His breaths came in ragged gasps as the realization settled in, a cold, hard weight in his gut. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this.

The sound of the motel door opening snapped him out of his daze. Sam stepped out, his eyes immediately scanning the parking lot. “Dean!” he called, urgency in his voice. “Where’s Y/N?”

Dean turned to his brother, his face a mask of guilt and regret, the storm in his eyes mirroring the one raging above them. Sam took one look at him, and his expression shifted from concern to disbelief.

“Don’t be an idiot!” Sam barked, his voice cutting through the rain like a knife. “Go after her! Now!”

Dean didn’t need to be told twice. Panic surged through him as he realized how far she could have gotten. He bolted to the Impala, his boots splashing through puddles as he yanked the door open and jumped inside. The engine roared to life, and with a screech of tires, Dean tore out of the parking lot, his heart racing as fast as the car.

His eyes scanned the dark road, searching desperately for any sign of her. The rain made it nearly impossible to see, the wipers barely keeping up with the downpour. He cursed under his breath, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

And then, through the sheets of rain, he saw her—a lone figure walking along the side of the road, drenched and shivering. Relief flooded through him, mingling with the fear that he had driven her too far away already.

He slammed on the brakes, the Impala skidding to a slippery stop just ahead of her. The headlights cast a blinding light in her direction, and she raised her arm to shield her eyes, startled by the sudden intrusion.

Dean jumped out of the car, not caring about the rain or the cold. His only focus was on her, on fixing the mistake he had just made. He ran toward her, his heart pounding in his chest, and her eyes widened as he approached.

“Are you crazy?” Y/N yelled, her voice shaking with anger and fear. “You scared the hell out of me!”

But Dean didn’t stop. He couldn’t. The sight of her standing there, hurt and vulnerable, broke whatever resolve he had left. Without a second thought, he closed the distance between them, his hands reaching out to cup her face as he crashed his lips onto hers.

Y/N stiffened in shock, but the warmth of his lips, the desperation in his kiss, melted the ice that had formed around her heart. Dean’s hands trembled as he held her close, his lips moving against hers with a fervor that was almost frantic. He pulled away just long enough to mumble, “I’m sorry,” before kissing her again, the words spilling out between every kiss, like a mantra he couldn’t stop.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered against her lips, his breath ragged and filled with regret. “I’m so damn sorry, Y/N. I was an idiot… I was scared. I thought I was protecting you, but I was just pushing you away. Please… please don’t go.”

Tears mixed with the rain on Y/N’s cheeks as she stared up at him, her anger slowly dissolving into something softer, more tender. She could feel the sincerity in his words, the raw emotion in his kiss, and it broke down the walls she had thrown up in her defense.

“Dean…” she began, her voice trembling, but he kissed her again, his lips soft and pleading against hers.

“Don’t say anything,” he whispered, his forehead resting against hers as he caught his breath. “Just… stay with me."

Y/N’s heart clenched at the vulnerability in his voice, and she realized just how much he had been hurting, how scared he had been to lose her. She lifted her hands to his face, brushing the wet strands of hair away from his face, and nodded, her own voice barely audible.

“I’m here,” she said softly, her words a promise. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean let out a shaky breath, relief flooding through him as he pulled her into his arms, holding her as if she were the only thing keeping him grounded. The rain continued to pour around them, but neither of them noticed. All that mattered was that they were together, that they had found each other again in the storm.

“I love you,” Dean murmured against her hair, his arms tightening around her. “And I’m never letting you go again.”

“I love you too,” Y/N whispered back, her voice steady despite the tears that threatened to fall. She held onto him tightly, her arms wrapping around his neck as if she could anchor herself to him, as if letting go would mean losing everything.

Dean pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes, his thumbs gently brushing away the rain—or were they tears?—from her cheeks. His gaze was intense, filled with a mix of love, regret, and a fierce determination. “I mean it, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and sincere. "I was stupid, I should have never said that to you."

The rain continued to fall, but it no longer felt cold. Instead, it felt like a cleansing, washing away the doubts and fears that had threatened to tear them apart. They stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, letting the world fall away until it was just them—two people who had faced the darkness and found their way back to the light.

Finally, Dean let out a soft laugh, pulling back just enough to look at her fully, his eyes shining with a mix of relief and affection. “You must think I’m crazy, making you stand out here in the rain,” he said, his tone teasing but with an undercurrent of seriousness.

Y/N smiled, shaking her head as a playful glint sparkled in her eyes. “Maybe a little,” she replied, her tone light and teasing. “But I’m a sucker for romantic rain kissing scenes.”

Dean’s lips curled into a smirk at her words, his eyes narrowing in that mischievous way that always made her heart skip a beat. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice low and teasing as he stepped closer to her, the rain still pouring down around them. “Well, in that case…”

Without another word, Dean cupped her face in both hands, his touch gentle but firm, and leaned in to kiss her again. This time, there was no rush, no urgency—just the slow, passionate kiss that spoke volumes of the love he felt for her. His lips moved against hers with a tenderness that made her melt into him, the world around them fading into the background as they lost themselves in the moment.

When he finally pulled back, his forehead resting against hers, Dean smiled, his breath mingling with hers in the cool air. “How was that?” he asked, his voice full of playful confidence, though there was an undercurrent of vulnerability, as if he truly wanted to know if it was enough.

Y/N couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face, her heart swelling with affection as she looked up at him.

“Better than The Notebook”

--

Please like, share or comment when you liked the story. If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

Tag list:-> If you want to be added let me know what you like to read! If anyone feels like you're tagged too much, also let me know please. :)

@kr804573

@nancymcl

@suckitands33

@mostlymarvelgirl

@globetrotter28

@hobby27

@call-me-mrs-winchester

@cevansbaby-dove

@winchesterwild78

@deans-baby-momma

@yvonneeeee

[ynscrazylife]

Eek! Yay!

So since I'm just a few episodes ahead I'm just going to keep it kind of vague. What do you think of a younger sister whose just a little younger than Sam? Dean practically raising her and so they're super close but when Sam leaves for college their dad decides that maybe the hunter life isn't the best for his daughter so he leaves her behind with a family friend. Imagine the angst and abandonment issues (def not me) like after Dean picks up Sam he tracks down his younger sister he hasn't seen in like a year and she just never gave up hunting so now she's actually pretty good at it? Can you imagine how awkward that reunion would be?? Maybe they're hunting down a monster together or something??

Sorry, this isn't exactly a scenario so much as my own personal idea for a backstory? I don't know but if you like it or you want something else let me know cause there's tons more that are similar or completely different from this one 😏

Great minds think alike cause I kinda had an idea in mind where Dean and Sam meet up with their sister through a hunt! This is a little different than what you put in the ask tho, so I hope that’s alright. I also feel like there is enough for a part 2 so I could end up adding to this! And this would be a fun OC concept to make 👀 if anyone wants that.

a reunion for the ages (dean & sam winchester x sister!reader)

The thing that makes this entire situation, what your life has become, so backwards and twisted is that at first, you didn’t actually want to hunt. You wanted to go to college, like Sam. You weren’t even that much younger than him and in his first year, he seemed to love it. But when your time rolled around, you didn’t get into Stanford.

Yes, there were other colleges that accepted you, but you really wanted to be with your big brother. The rejection hit you hard and as a result (and needing a distraction), you threw yourself into hunting. You became careless and reckless and instead of talking with you about it, your dad made a decision for you: that you weren’t cut out for hunting. He left you and took Dean with him.

When Dean realized what was going on, he of course tried to stop his dad. They got into a pretty bad fight over it. But he was a stubborn man and he refused to go back for you. Dean tried calling you, but thinking that he was in on it with Dad, you refused to pick up. You kept in touch with Sam for a little while, but the both of you got busy as time went on, and the weekly calls stopped.

A few years later, Dean and Sam have hit the road, intent on finding Dad. The backseat of the Impala, which was usually occupied by you, is empty.

“I thought if I gave you some time you might bring it up yourself, but dude, are we picking up Y/N or not?” Sam asks finally, no longer wanting to beat around the bush about it. He knows about Dad and Dean leaving you behind, but assumes that at some point you would’ve made up with them.

“She shouldn’t be involved in this,” Dean says resolutely, keeping his eye on the road ahead, firmly gripping the steering wheel.

“You had no problem involving me in this,” Sam points out, trying not to sound upset over it. There was a small part of him that wonders if he hadn’t gone with Dean, would he’ve been able to save Jess? Still, he knows that he went willingly, and that he could’ve said no.

“You know how to hunt and fight. The last time I saw Y/N hunt . . . Trust me, it didn’t go well,” Dean mutters, definitely not in the mood to have this conversation.

“Shouldn’t we at least let her know what’s going on with Dad?” Sam suggests, now more curious about what happened between you and Dean and Dad. You never gave many details about it.

“Have at it, if she’ll pick up,” Dean says, throwing one hand in the air. He’s trying to play it off as if he doesn’t care, but he does. He misses you.

Sam tries but, as Dean predicted, you don’t answer. Over the next couple days, they get wrapped up into a case where they suspect an angry ghost is the perpetrator, going after the people that they blame for their death. Thankfully they’re able to find the object that the ghost is attached to, a music box. What they don’t expect, however, is to be dealing with a ghost possessing someone. It’s a chef, to be exact, which leads them to their current situation: fighting the possessed chef in his kitchen.

“Sam, a little help here?!” Dean yells, fist-fighting the enraged chef, who looks a little ridiculous in his white chef’s hat.

“I don’t have any iron! Or salt!” Sam yells back, rummaging through his bag in search of something, anything, that might help.

Suddenly, someone runs into the room from behind the guy and jumps on his back. It’s a woman, with a bat in her hand. As the guy stumbles back, she hits him in the head repeatedly, until the guy throws her off his back and onto the table. The woman smacks him again with the bat, then gets salt from out of her pocket, and throws it at him. The ghost is expelled from his body and he drops to the floor.

Dean and Sam exchange looks, wondering who the hell she is.

The ghost isn’t done yet, though. It lifts the woman into the air and lets her drop onto the table, which cracks. She falls onto the floor and the ghost lunges for her, disappearing and now possessing her. Dean and Sam prepare themselves for another fight, only to both freeze when the woman stands up and turns around.

It’s their sister. Their little sister, who’s meant to be enjoying a hunt-free life. There’s a gash on her forehead which is leaking blood down her face and within seconds, she’s lunging at Sam.

He falls back, not sure what to do. If this were anyone else being possessed, he’d fight back, but he doesn’t want to hurt you.

“Y/N, Y/N, c’mon!” He yells, doing his best to dodge your hits.

Dean runs around and grabs you in a bear-hug, pinning your arms to your sides. He drags you back, even as you thrash. “Get some salt, Sam!” He says, struggling to manage you.

“I told you, I don’t have any!” Sam repeats, frustrated.

“It’s a KITCHEN!” Dean practically screams.

While Sam looks for salt, you twist out of Dean’s arms. The two of you go at it but eventually, Dean’s able to get you down on the ground. He feels bad about pressing his knee on your abdomen, holding your arms down, but he has to keep you there.

“I found a salt shaker,” Sam says, kneeling down by your head. “We gotta destroy the music box, though, before the ghost possesses one of us.”

“Alright, do it, but give me the salt,” Dean says, moving your arms above your head and holding your wrists with one hand. With his other, he takes the salt and has to pry your jaw open to pour the salt in your mouth.

You cough and splutter, but Dean forces your mouth to close until you’ve swallowed the salt. Finally, the ghost leaves your body. Dean throws the salt shaker to Sam, who salts the music box before chucking it into the oven.

“Alright, Y/N, we gotta go,” Dean says, throwing one of your arms over his shoulders and pulling you to your feet.

All you can do is lean against him and mumble your brother’s name, your head spinning.

Sam grabs the chef and the four of you stumble out the back exit. Sam lays the chef on the ground and calls the fire department, then you guys make your getaway in Dean’s car.

“I’m staying with her,” Sam decides, sitting in the backseat with you while Dean starts to drive.

“Sam . . . Dean? What’re you doing here?” You ask as Sam tends to your head with the first aid kit that they keep in the car. You can hardly believe that you’re really with your brothers again.

“Could ask you the same question, kid. Sammy and I were hunting that ghost,” Dean says, speeding up a little to get to the motel faster.

“So was I,” you say. Your head feels far too heavy to hold up on your own right now so you let it lean against Sam’s shoulder.

“What?” The brothers ask in unison. They weren’t sure what answer they were expecting but it wasn’t that.

“Been hunting ever since you and Dad left, Dean,” you tell them. Even though you are in pain, you don’t miss the beat of silence that follows.

“You were pretty good back there,” Sam compliments, ruffling your hair a bit. With your head wound bandaged up, he slings his arm around you for the rest of the drive.

Dean is quiet, his fingers thumping against the steering wheel, until the three of you arrive at the motel. Sam helps you out and lays you down on his bed. “I’ll be right back, gonna get you an ice pack,” he says, going to the mini ridge.

Dean sits across from you on his own bed, sighing. “How are you feeling?” He asks.

“Like I got thrown onto a table . . . Oh wait, I did,” you answer sarcastically, mustering up a smile.

Sam returns, giving you the ice pack and then sitting next to Dean. He glances between his siblings, sensing some tension. “Do you two need to . . . Talk or something?” He asks.

“You’ve really been hunting this whole time?” Dean asks you, still in a bit of disbelief.

You nod. “I got my act together after Dad . . . After you and Dad left. I wanted to prove him wrong,” you explain, shrugging. “Where is he, anyway?”

Sam and Dean exchange a look. “We don’t know. We’ve been hunting and hoping to find him in the process,” Sam says.

You nod slowly. Your dad taking off isn’t that uncommon, but it is uncommon to see your brothers hunting together. “I’ll get out of your hair soon,” you mumble, not sure that they wanted you around.

“Woah, wait. There’s no rush. Sam was right, you were pretty good back there . . . We could use your help,” Dean says. He’s not going to let you go so easily this time around.

“Really?” You say, a little surprised. You sit up in bed, taking the ice pack off your forehead.

“Yes. And keep that on,” Dean says quickly, taking the ice pack from you and pressing it to your wound himself. He moves to sit down next to you, making you roll your eyes, but you don’t argue. It’s kinda nice to have him helping you out, he’s always been protective over you and Sam.

“The Three Musketeers, all back together again,” Sam jokes, just to annoy you both.

“Is it too late to back out now?” You ask.

“Yes,” the brothers say. You’re in too deep now, Dean and Sam aren’t letting you go again.

[according2thelore]

(please read cw in tags)

dean knocks on sammy's door. he shifts on his feet. 

it's late. he knows it's late. but after the library today, dean needs to know where they stand. younger sam hadn't come back to their room after the fight, and dean ribs have been aching with the lack of sam winchester everywhere.

he knocks again, but doesn't get a response.

he cracks open the door, and it's dark and quiet. figures. sammy is asleep, dumbass! dean's mind screams, but he opens the door further.

"sammy?" dean asks, hushed. nothing. dean hesitates, but he takes a step inside.

the room smells like sam, and dean is brought up short by it. he hadn't realized how little he has walked into a room and known sam had been in it by smell alone.

they usually didn't stay in places long enough as kids for those places to pick up their smells, aside from the rare few-month-long hunt. even sam's apartment in palo alto smelled more like jess than sam. even worse, it had smelled of what their skin smelled like together, which was nothing dean had ever associated with his brother at all.

it felt like if every copy of dean’s favourite song had been destroyed, and only covers remained. it was the same, but barely. not in the way it matters.

but this room is sam's. 

it’s strange, as dean looks around the dark room, how little of sam is actually here.

there’s a flannel hanging on the desk chair, and a couple of thick tomes open on its surface. but that’s…it. a couple of the dresser drawers hang open, and dean notices even those are empty.

it’s like sam doesn’t even sleep here.

but there’s a figure in the bed, on his stomach, holding the pillow like dean imagines he holds his girls. dean wants to snort, because it looks like sammy is the little spoon after all.

“sammy?” dean asks, again. he reasons with himself that if he doesn’t respond, he’ll go back to bed. his own weakness irritates him. just because he and his sam had a fight doesn’t mean he needs to go bother older sam with it. but dean can’t seem to stay away from the guy.

sam’s breathing stops. 

dean finds his own breath catching, as sam shifts. slowly, sam turns around. he moves steadily, purposefully, like a jungle cat and not at all like a man just woken from a dead sleep. dean freezes in the doorway, feeling—terrifyingly—hunted.

sammy blinks at him. dean blinks back.

dean can't see his face well in the dark, and can't see his eyes at all. the sheer bulk of sammy takes dean aback now that the familiar dimples and moles are absent. this body is a hunter's body.

sammy doesn't say anything for a long moment. 

dean is about to say something, but…the little of sammy’s face dean can see does something strange. something bad. dean can feel sam crumpling in on himself, and sammy’s eyes cut away from him, like dean is made of teeth, or of crawling bugs.

"no. no, no, no." sammy winds a hand into his hair. "it was supposed to be over."

“sammy? it’s—it’s me.” dean tries, but sam is senseless in the very literal horrific sense of the word, eyes blindly searching the sheets, deaf to dean’s words. then, he slams his hand into the side of his head, hard.

"it’s not—real, it’s not—“ sam mutters, quicker and quicker, and dean startles. he runs over to sam, just as sam takes one of his own fingers and bends it back, hard.

“hey!” dean cries, trying to pry sam’s finger away from the punishing hand. dean hears a pop and watches—horrified, as sam’s finger pops out of its socket. “holy fuck!”

sam is pale, and despite how he tilts his head to avoid looking at dean at all, his eyes are wide open. dean doesn’t think he’s fucking blinked since he walked in.

“hey, look at me, sammy, please.” 

“dean’ll be here. he’ll be here.” sam mutters under his breath, and dean watches—part relief and fascination and terror—as sam pops his index finger back in place, like he practically breaks his fingers for fun.

“i’m dean, sammy—look at me, please!” dean cries, frantic, but this seems to only distress sam more. he cries out, shaking his head. tears pour from his unblinking eyes, focused on the ceiling.

“we’re out. i’m out. dean!” sammy’s hand snaps up, and dean barely manages to stop him from slamming it into the side of his head again. 

dean is going to be sick. he’s going to be fucking sick. he doesn’t know what’s wrong, what’s going on, and the lack of consciousness behind sam’s eyes is the scariest thing dean’s ever seen.

“what the fuck?“

dean whips around, both hands wrapped around sam’s wrists, whom—if anything—is more terrified that he can’t hit himself than the distress that the actual pain caused him.

his older self is standing in the doorway, and dean is so relieved to see him that he slumps forward, letting sam’s wrists go.

“he started hurting himself—i don’t—“

“get out of my goddamn way,” older dean roars, and he shoves dean behind him and into the hallway. dean’s back hits the wall, hard. his feet go from under him, relief and terror and nausea making him lightheaded, and he slides down against the wall.

"i didn't--i didn't--" dean can't get any air into his lungs. he’s trying to justify himself to no one, as his older self has immediately fallen into action.

older dean turns the lamp on, and light floods the room, blinding dean and making his eyes water.

"you remember going to bed," older dean says, grabbing sam roughly. it sounds like a command, like dean is trying to convince him with the strength of his words alone. "you remember dinner last night. what did we have?"

sammy's panting, and he's scrabbling at dean's wrists. dean watches red welts bloom on his forearms, but his older self doesn’t even flinch. not even when the redness of his skin turns into blood. 

"he's got—young!—he wears his—"

"no. he's not here, sammy. tell me. what did we have for dinner last night?"

sammy's breathing fast, but dean can't see his face from where his hair has fallen into his face. it takes a few minutes for sam's breathing to calm, but dean is too afraid to approach. 

"we had...um. i think we had lasagna?" 

"there you go." dean smiles softly. you got onto me for forgetting to buy parmesan last week, remember?" 

quietly, so quietly that dean almost doesn't hear it, sam lets out a snort.

"yeah. i remember." his fingers rotate, and dean watches sam pet up older dean's arms with the pads of his fingers, like he's soothing the scratches from seconds before. spots of blood smear the trunks of his thumbs.

"dean." sam says, and dean can hear the tension running through it. he perks up, and his heart is trying to beat its way out of his chest, trying to reunite with sammy because it knows what's right. dean has never been this close and far away from sam when he needs his help. "i think he's back. i think...i think he's wearing you, again." 

"no, that's pocket-sized, remember? you love that guy. you've been knitting him little sweaters to wear." older dean says, but neither of them look at dean slumped over in the hall. dean doesn't want them to.

slowly, sam raises his head. dean watches his hair fall back, and for the first time since dean walked into the room, sam looks at him directly. he has to almost lean over the protective shield of older dean’s body. sam’s eyes trace his face, his hands clenched on his knees.

"oh." sam says, shakily. "they...they both came. right. i—" sammy puts a hand on his forehead, and dean joins it, gently wiping his own blood from sam’s forehead as sam’s fingers transfer the rusty smudges. sam doesn’t seem to notice.

"come here. please?” a weak voice from the room, and dean—despite every fuckin’ thing—can’t deny sam a damn thing. not when he sounds like that, all weak and upset and so baby brother, despite the inches and pounds and years he has on dean, now.

he expects his older self to stop him, but dean just slides to the side, stepping away to the attached bathroom a few steps away. dean hears the sink turn on. sammy, still sitting on the bed, holds one arm out to the side, and dean steps into it obediently, almost automatically. sam’s feet slide off of the bed, and he sits on the edge of it, holding dean close with a heavy arm.

dean doesn’t know what sam wants—is afraid he’s going to agree to something they’re both going to regret later. but sammy just tilts forward, the crown of his head digging into the lowest part of his sternum, where ribs meet.

he can undoubtedly feel dean’s frantic heartbeat against his skull, but sammy just breathes slowly, eyes closed. 

"i'm so sorry, dean." he rasps, quietly.

"you're sorry?" dean croaks, digging his fingers into sammy's long hair to anchor himself. he can feel sam's shaky exhale against his abdomen. "i fuckin--jesus, sammy. i'm so sorry.”

sammy tilts away from him, and looks up into his face. dean is hit with such a potent wave of—in this moment—agony. this is his baby, isn’t it?

this is the little baby that wanted lucky charms for dinner and demanded to hold dean’s hand when they crossed streets and cried so hard when dean first came back from a hunt bleeding that he threw up. 

this is his baby, with tired eyes, and deep, harrowed lines in his face. for the first time, dean realizes just how much they’ve lost. sammy is looking up at him like dean is supposed to know what to do here, like he’s expecting dean to heal hurts that dean didn’t see inflicted. that dean himself has inflicted tonight.

this is his baby. 

sammy tugs on his arm, and dean sits down on the corner of the bed, so desperate to erase the look in his eyes, so desperate to meet sam’s needs like he always has that he’d be willing to shoot himself in the head if sam handed him a gun.

but sam just pulls dean in, just as older dean comes out from the bathroom. his forearms are still dark with red welts, but the bleeding has stopped. sam lays down, and dean looks up at his older self.

older dean doesn’t say anything, just gets in bed behind sam. dean slowly lays down as well. sam lifts a hand and dean feels a light tug at his neck as sam wraps a hand around the amulet. something humiliatingly close to tears prick at dean’s eyes. sam has been reaching for the amulet for comfort as long as dean has had it.

dean watches as his older self reaches an arm around sam’s waist and pulls him closer. sam’s eyes flutter shut, and his reaching hand encourages dean to come closer. slowly, like he’s waiting for dean to reject him, sam’s knee gently bumps dean’s and stays there. 

sammy has been so calmed by dean—by both deans here, together—that he's already loose-limbed and half asleep.

sam’s breathing is slower now, and dean watches raptly as his eyes flutter open. his eyes are sleepy and dark, and dean feels speared by the depth of his devotion to this man.

it scares him.

dean is acutely afraid, as he leans forward and presses himself into sam’s chest, letting sam tuck his nose into his closely-shorn hair.

"stone number one." sammy murmurs. 

it doesn't mean anything to dean, but his older self ducks down to nuzzle against sam's hair. they make eye contact over sam's head. 

something passes between them. not respect, not necessarily. an understanding, maybe. this is ours. we will do anything to keep him safe.

"you've got two of 'em, now. you're weighed down with all these stones, baby," older dean says lightly. sam huffs a laugh directly into dean's head, and he shudders. “you ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

[destieltropecollection]

Destiel Trope Collection 2024 | Day 23: Established Relationship

Digital | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,063 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Relationship, Kissing Summary: Cas and Jack tell Dean about their day at the farmers market. Flirty texting, family dinners, and movie nights included.

Anchor in Storm | @tami-ryver Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 1,086 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Castiel Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Takes Care of Castiel, Angry Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Has Self-Worth Issues, Angst, Angst and Feels Summary: Dean knows as it has been the subject of more then enough of their fights. Of course, Cas doesn't see it that way. He always says that he needs to know and that it's for a good cause, which in Dean' mind is a load of bullshit. But, he can't tell Cas that, as it will fire him even more and most fights if not all, end up with a lot of angry sex.

That Takes Me Back | @blessyourhondahurley Rating: General Word Count: 1,170 Main Tags/Warnings: alternate universe, domestic fluff, high school, established relationship Summary: Dean and Cas reminisce about how it all began...

Restless | @blessyourhondahurley Rating: Mature Word Count: 1,748 Main Tags/Warnings: Wedding fluff Summary: After a (mostly) sleepless night, Dean wakes to a very special, and very busy, day.

this is the only thing i've ever had any faith it | @watchinghimrakeleaves Rating: Teen & Up Word Count: 3,760 Main Tags/Warnings: Post-Canon, Post-Canon Fix-It, Marriage Proposal, Castiel is Jack Kline's Parent, Dean Winchester is Jack Kline's Parent, Human Castiel, Supportive Sam Winchester, Retired Hunter Dean Winchester Summary: The world is safe, Dean and Cas own a bar on the beach, and Dean is ready to ask Cas for something he could have never imagined he was allowed to have.

Sturdy | @shishquahcustardtree Rating: Explicit Word Count: 4,065 Main Tags/Warnings: Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, top!Castiel, bottom!Dean, post 15x18, fluff and smut, canon divergent, no 15x20, post Castiel Empty rescue Summary: It’s been four weeks since Castiel was rescued from The Empty. Four weeks of a confession of Deans own, soft kisses, and indecent public exposure (and a very tired Sam). The Dean-Cave needs a new couch. Dean wants Castiel to go with him. Sam wants to not have to bail them out of the local police station again. Dean wants to keep the real reason for the new couch a secret until the very end.

Making Pie | @ididitallofitforyou Rating: General Word Count: 5,018 Main Tags/Warnings: Adoption, Family, Meet Cute, Established Relationship Summary: Cas and Dean have been waiting to adopt for years. Claire, Emma, and Jack just lost their parents in a car accident. Are Cas and Dean ready to go from zero to three kids all at once?

Under Lock and Key | @teeparadigm67 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 10,215 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Handcuffs, Enochian Handcuffs, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Fluff and Smut, Oral Sex, Light Bondage, Sex in the Men of Letters Bunker, Poor Sam Winchester he's seen too much, Porn with Feelings Summary: He thought he was a damn genius when the inspiration struck him, noticing the glint of metal while rearranging Babys’ weapon’s arsenal. But now, with every step he took walking from the garage, the doubt started to seep in. The sex was a fairly new dynamic to their relationship but now Dean had gotten a taste, he was hooked. There was however just one tiny little problem, Castiel’s grace surges. It did wonders for his ego, knowing that every time they had sex Cas’s grace would become so powerful that it would blow the bunkers' power. But after one too many “electrical mishaps,” his angelic boyfriend had taken a vow of chastity, not wanting to risk damage to the bunker's electrics or anywhere else for that matter. It's not that Cas wasn’t offering Dean enjoyment, but it’s just so much better when there are two at play. He needed to try something, anything to get Cas out of that damn trench coat and into his bed again, and hopefully, the Enochian handcuffs that sat heavily in his back pocket might be the solution to all their problems. (That's if Cas would be on board with the idea.)

What I Put You Through | @macy2me Rating: Mature Word Count: 17,921 Main Tags/Warnings: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Getting divorced, Sad boys don't use their words right, Secrets, Kidnapping, Angst, Lots of Angst, All aboard the train of angst, Destination: Happy ending, Getting Back Together, Jack is in trouble, Past Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Anal Sex, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, I promise there is a happy ending Summary: “Jack’s missing,” his almost ex-husband speaks the words no parent ever wants to hear. This is a story about two men that have fallen out of love but must come together to get their only child back.

Good Times, Bad Times, Past Times | @lazarus-rose Rating: Explicit Word Count: 25,313 Main Tags/Warnings: Time travel, human Castiel, post canon, canon-typical violence, married Castiel/Dean Summary: With his demon deal almost due, Dean didn't foresee much of a future for himself — until he is faced with a version of him from 2023. This apparent future is accompanied by Sam and another man who seems very close to Dean's future self and claims to be a fallen angel. Dean thought he and Cas had finally gotten their happy ending after defeating Chuck and semi-retiring from hunting. But, after Jack informs them of a rogue angel who has gone back in time to kill Dean before he ever went to Hell, the two of them agree to join Sam for one last hunt.

Til Apocalypse Do Us Part | @avonlady42 Rating: Explicit Word Count: 34,920 Main Tags/Warnings: established relationship, married, top castiel/bottom Dean Winchester, switching, fluff and smut, anal sex, supernatural elements, dean winchester wears panties Summary: Dean thought he had the perfect life. He married his high school sweetheart, Castiel, and they lived the apple pie life with the white picket fence. It all goes horribly wrong one day when he wakes up and his husband is suddenly missing. He searches for him and files a missing persons report, but he is nowhere to be found. The apple pie life he thought he had disappeared when his brother and mother let him in on the secret that monsters and angels and demons are real and they hunt them in order to keep the world safe. They think Castiel’s disappearance is somehow connected and Dean agrees to join them if it will bring his husband home. What Dean doesn’t know is there is more to the story than anyone is telling him and it’s up to him to try to figure it out.

[t00muchheart]

I just hit My Bloody Valentine on the ol’ rewatch and Famine’s exchange with Dean is never not one of the most gut-wrenching character moments for me. I’ve always seen it as saying “Dean doesn’t have a craving, he’s empty,” but I have some other thoughts this time around.

Famine feeds on people’s desires; he takes hunger and makes it into starvation, turns things from wants to needs in a way. Things that fill people up become poison to them through excess; appreciation and enjoyment becomes raw consumption.

And then there’s Dean, who Famine can’t seem to affect—because, according to Famine, there’s nothing inside him: he’s dead inside, and nothing can fill that void. Now, earlier in the episode, Dean claims to Cas that this doesn’t affect him because he feeds himself as needed—he satiates his own desires. That seems fully out of line with what Famine is saying, which implies that it’s bravado or arrogance, but I think there’s some truth in this, too: none of the excess that Famine is using with the rest of the town will work on him because Dean has tried it, and he knows for a fact that all it can be is a distraction from his bigger issues.

Which brings me to my thought about what Dean’s craving is. Throughout this episode, we see Dean turn down his normal desires. He doesn’t go out for Valentine’s day for alcohol or to pick up women, he doesn’t eat his burger. In other words, he’s rejecting those distractions from the dead-ness or nothingness he feels inside him—and I think it’s because that feeling itself is Dean’s craving. Over and over again, Dean has expressed exhaustion at the path they’re on, he has just spoken to Michael and been told that free will is a farce, and as instinctively as he rejects that, I think a part of him wants to give in, to let go. To stop fighting and let himself drown in the hopelessness. And this episode, he’s headed there as surely as Cas is headed toward filling himself with beef or Sam with demon blood, only he’s doing it by letting go of the things he uses as defenses against it, flimsy as they are.

To me, that’s what makes him such a good victim for Famine. Because Dean is ready to give in, I think, when Famine is talking to him. He’s helpless, Cas has been taken in, Sam isn’t there. It’s hopeless, and Dean can’t do anything to push it down. He doesn’t have buffers left.

And at the end of the epusode, after Sam takes Famine down, Dean is drinking again. But as surely as Sam’s exposure to the demon blood impacted him, Dean’s moment of giving into the hopelessness got to him, and we see it in that haunting final scene, where he prays, begs for help from above, because that hopelessness was brought further forward than he usually lets it be, and he can’t quite push it back down.

[thirdsaltyhunter]

Crawl Home to Her

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean thinks back on the times he died but found his way home to kiss you

Warning: mentions of death and dying, drinking, talk of alcoholism, cursing, kissing, angst, Dean self hate, takes place in season 10 so spoilers.

A/N: This is inspired by Work Song by Hozier and written in Dean's POV with lyrics acting as Dean's thoughts, lyrics in italics. NOT PROOFREAD ALL MISTAKES ARE MY OWN

Dean's POV

I don't want to get out of bed. I couldn't have woken up more than three minutes ago, but I'm so tired. Though that's been a pretty consistent occurrence for most of my life. I'd have a hard time remembering the last time I woke up feeling rested, and to make it worse, these past few months- few years, have been grueling. Hell, in the past few months I inherited the Mark of Cain, died and came back as a demon; I don't know how much more I can take. I want this to be over, but it's not, it's never over. The Mark still on my arm is a reminder of that. I'm glad I have Y/N, I don't think I could go through all of this alone. She's still with me even after everything. She makes it all worth it.

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love I could barely eat

There's nothing sweeter than my baby

As if she could hear me thinking about her she emerged through our bedroom door with a smile that always seems to melt away my worries and two mugs of coffee in hand. That explains why she wasn't lying next to me when I woke up. I release the breath I've been unconsciously holding since waking to find her not beside me.

"Good morning my love" she says softly, handing me one of the mugs and sitting next to me on the bed.

"Mornin' sweetheart". She cups my face and kisses me, soft and sweet. I kiss her back, with a wanting for something I don't deserve.

I'd never want once front he cherry tree

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be.

She give me toothaches just from kissin' me

It's still hard believing that all this is real. I was supposed to be dead. I did die. Yet here I am, waking up another morning, another morning with her. I remember hearing her when I was fading from the stab wound. I heard her begging me to stay with her and it made me fight. Evidently I wasn't strong enough to win the initial struggle against death, but I made it out alive and came home to her. Despite how ugly the road back was.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

I think back to before we were together, back to when I came back after getting dragged to Hell. I wanted to shut everyone out, even her, and bury myself in a new grave of alcohol and guilt. Sam and Bobby had tried to get me to open up, tried to get me to talk about the literal Hell I had been through, Y/N never did. She somehow always knew when to push and when I needed to be left alone. So many nights I stayed awake, unable to sleep through the waves of guilt. Guilt over what I did in Hell, what I put Sam, Y/N and Bobby through, guilt for leaving them. My mind was so loud these nights, I drank until I blacked out. It was after one of these nights that I had woken up with a killer hangover in the bedroom that she usually slept in at Bobby's. Incomplete glimpses from the night before flashed through my head. Remembering how Y/N had found me in my drunken stupor and hauled me up from my seat at the kitchen table. How she managed to get me up the stairs and into bed by herself is beyond me, but I've learned over the years of knowing her, to not underestimate what she's capable of.

Boys, when my baby found me

I was three days on a drunken sin

I woke with her walls around me

Nothin' in her room but an empty crib

And I was burnin' up a fever

I had drug myself out of bed and wandered downstairs, unconsciously searching for her. I found her curled up asleep on the worn out sofa in the library. A new wave of guilt washed over me. I hadn't even pulled my head out of my ass long enough to ask her how she was, and now she had gone out of her way, given up her bed, so I could be comfortable. I didn't deserve her. That's why I kept my feelings for her to myself for so many years. I moved past her to the kitchen quietly, as to not wake her. I wanted to have a pot of coffee ready for her when she woke up, it was the least I could do. I was going to bring her a cup but she heard me moving around in the kitchen before the pot was even done brewing.

"Hey" I saw her rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, her hair disheveled.

My heart swelled at how cute I thought she was when she was like this, though I would never tell her that. Not only because I thought it might ruin our friendship, but also because she would probably stab me for calling her cute.

"Hey" she responded, voice still thick with sleep.

"You want a cup of coffee? ", I asked as I poured a cup for her, already knowing what her answer would be.

"Please", she said with a tired smile.

That morning over coffee, I had told her some of what I went through in Hell, that I had broken and tortured souls. She listened, without judgment, without fear and without asking questions I didn't feel like answering at the moment. The fact the she didn't push me made me comfortable to tell her everything.

I didn't care much how long I live

But I swear I thought I dreamed her

She never asked me once about the wrong I did

And now almost 6 years later, I'm still doing the same thing. I put her through all that again. I made a stupid decision that got me dead, but I made it back, only to try and shut her out. But now that we're together, I know she's not going to let me do that and I'm too tired and I love her too much to fight her, even though everything in me is telling me to stay away from her. I don't know how she can even look at me, let alone still be with me. I tried to kill her and Sam when I was a demon and there's more terrible things I did that she doesn't even know about, though I'm pretty sure she knows and isn't telling me. After her and Sam cured me, I tried to keep her at arms distance, tried to tell her the list of reasons why she shouldn't want me anymore. How could anyone forgive me after everything I did. But she took me into her arms and kept telling me it wasn't really me, that her and Sam still love me and all that matters is that she has me back.

My baby never fret none

About what my hands and my body done

If the Lord dont forgive me

I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me

When I was kissing on my baby

She spent all of last night kissing away my pain. I want to take away her pain too. I set my coffee on the nightstand and reach over to take her cup too, setting it beside mine.

"What'cha doin'" she looked confused until I turned back, grabbing her and pulling her to lay with me.

"Fixing it", I whispered, knowing it wasn't an answer that made sense, but I was going to kiss her until it fixed her broken heart.

I moved to hover over her and just looked at her, holding her face in my hands. Even in the low light of the early morning, she's still breathtakingly gorgeous. She pulls me down to kiss her and I get the feeling she knows what I'm trying to do. I pour everything I'm feeling into kissing her, how sorry I am for leaving her, for all the heartache it caused her. I don't think I'll ever erase from my mind, the sound of her crying as I was dying. The memory has me blinking back tears. I turn to hide my face in her neck and trail kisses along her shoulder. Her arms wrap around my back and I can't help but melt into her, breathing in the scent of her perfume. The weight is off my shoulders for once, I can breathe easier, and nothing matters outside of us.

And she put her love down soft and sweet

In the low lamplight I was free

Heaven and Hell were words to me

When my time comes around

It's moments like these that make me fight so hard. Fight to be better, do better. Fight for her and fight to stay with her. I roll over onto my back, pulling her with me to lay her head on my chest.

"I promise that no matter what happens I'll alway find a way back to you". It was a promise I was making to myself as much as it was to her, and I intended to keep it.

Lay me gently in the cold dark earth

No grave can hold my body down

I'll crawl home to her

[ribbonsncherries]

ᡣ𐭩ྀིྀི₊ ⊹𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒰𝓃𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒜𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑔𝓃𝑒𝒹 𝒮𝑒𝒶𝓉˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥

Student!Dean Winchester AU x student! reader

A/N: I still have a grudge over the person who took my seat this semester, like MOVE. btw with the end, I didn't know how to end this story sooo come up with a better ending in your head I bet it's much better than mine.

Summary: Everyone knows that if someone sits in the same spot for more than a day in class then that is their seat for the rest of the semester. So when Y/N comes to class she finds a surprise, and the competition for the seat begins.

Warnings: Language

Divider Credits:

@anitalenia

@cafekitsune

GIF Credits:

@supernovagifs

REBLOGS AND LIKES ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED

Another day another lecture. Y/N was exhausted from work the night before. So she was late to class, she’d been late before so she quickly got dressed had some cereal, and drove to school. When she came in she saw a guy with darkish blonde hair, little bits of freckles on his face, and the immediate smell of leather from his jacket. Y/N with a smile said, “Hi, excuse me, this is my seat.” She said in the most respectful tone to convince him to move.

Dean faced her and looked up and down at her then turned his head behind him and pointed at the empty seats “Go find another one sweetheart there are no assigned seats here.” He smirked before going back to his notes. Y/N’s mouth was slightly open. She marched back to the row behind him and sat down. Her seat didn’t feel right. Her seat was perfectly in the middle where she could see everything and be able to see no matter how tall a person is. Now this guy who took her spot’s hair is in the way. She grumbled as she took her notes constantly moving her body side to side to see what the professor was writing.

The next day came around and Y/N managed to get her seat in time by being 20 minutes early to class. Ridiculous, she knows that. But this seat is the best in the class and there’s no way she’s giving up without a fight. The lecture hall started filling up with the usual students. But Dean arrived 10 minutes early after Y/N. So when he saw the seat was taken Y/N looked down at the door and smirked. Dean growled in anger and sat down in the row behind her. “Bitch…” he muttered under his breath. Y/N looked behind her “It’s Y/N at least get my name right.” She said before returning to her work.

After the next couple of days, the fight for the chair turned…a little more competitive than it needed to be. Dean was known for his pranks on Sam. So he decided to use his master gift of pranks and use it on Y/N for the glory seat in the lecture hall. So when class ended and everyone left, Dean wrote down that the class was switched over to room 403. So he smirked as he left the class. And at room 403 he wrote a little note for Y/N.

The next day Y/N woke up early and got to class 20 minutes early like usual. When she saw the note on the board she went to room 403 which was a long walk from her regular lecture class. So when she reached the room her face dropped

‘Dumbass -Dean’

Y/N knew his name now. But that was the least of her worries. She ran out of the class and back to her regular lecture hall where she saw Dean smirk at her and wink back at her. She had a mad face and walked to the seat behind him. “Fucking asshole.” She muttered. “Looks stupid in that jacket.” She muttered as she dug her pencil into her notebook causing the led to crack.

One time as Y/N was walking to class she saw Dean was right beside her. They both made eye contact as one walked faster than the other and at that point been almost running. Allison being such a talented actor almost fell to her knees as her arms went to her lower torso. “Ahh!” She muttered like she was in pain. Dean’s smile immediately dropped as he went to her in worry and crouched down. “Hey! Hey, you ok?” He asked helping her up. Allison smiled and immediately ran “idiot!” She yelled as she ran for the seat laughing.

Then after a few weeks, it got…extreme. Both Dean and Y/N set up pillows in front of the lecture hall and covered themselves with blankets. “What time is your alarm?” Y/N asked smugly.

“5:45.” “Well I’ll set mine for 5:40.” She smirked. Dean immediately yelled out “Siri, change the alarm to 5:50!” Y/N looked back in anger. “Siri set the alarm for 6:00!” “Siri, disable Y/N’s phone.” Her mouth was wide open “You can’t do that! Siri self-destruct!” Their feud was like it wasn’t going to end. They kept going at it until Y/N just had enough.

Y/N was late for class and she competed with Dean so much she forgot to wash her jacket. It was so cold outside and in the lecture hall. So she grabbed whatever long sleeve she had left and went to class. She saw Dean at the seat with a smirk. She came up to him “Listen, I’m done. Just take it, it’s yours.” She mumbled while shivering. Dean's smirk faded as his eyes followed her to go to the seat behind him. Which they called the loser seat since whoever didn’t get the chair would sit there behind it. Dean had so many layers on him so he took off his jacket and walked behind her. He dumped his jacket over her shivering body.

She looked behind her and looked at him. “Now you’re the stupid one with the jacket.” He said as he smiled remembering what she said about him those first days. Y/N’s face turned red, she thought he didn’t hear her. “Sorry about that by the way…” she said awkwardly. “Thanks.” She muttered as she adjusted the jacket to fit better. She had to admit she felt much warmer. So when Dean returned to the seat. He couldn’t help but feel upset. Why did he feel bad, he won, and after weeks and weeks of competing for the seat why did he feel worse?

When class was over Y/N returned the jacket to him “Thanks, I was freezing in there.” She said. Dean smiled as he put it back on her. “It’s freezing out here, just make sure not to dirty it, it’s a bitch to have it dry cleaned.” He said as he grabbed his backpack and walked away. Y/N sat there still shocked. She put on his jacket properly. And when she put it on she immediately smelt the genuine leather, wood, and men’s cologne he always wore. Y/N had to admit he was somewhat cute. His emerald eyes and his cute little freckles on his face. It’s almost like she wanted to kiss- wait what the hell was she thinking?

As she began doing her chores at her apartment she kept looking at the leather jacket that was hanging, it annoyed her that she couldn’t stop thinking about him.

As for Dean, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Whenever he talked to Sam it was always about the competitions, every single topic Sam tries to tell, Dean always tries to make some connection to Y/N or the seat competition. “Dude shut up, I get it. You poured water on the seat and got her butt wet. You told me…20 times.” Sam said. Dean’s face dropped “Hey it was funny.” He defended. “Just admit you like her,” Sam told him in a reliving tone.

“I don’t like her.” Dean smiled. “Dude no, she’s a crybaby about a seat.” “So were you!” Dean looked down and agreed to himself he was a crybaby too. “Dude, you talk about her all the damn time.” Dean leaned back on his bed, where he and Sam were talking. “Dude no I don’t.”

“Y/N woke up so early for this, Y/N was hurt so I thought she needed help, Y/N is smart for choosing that seat, Y/N this, Y/N that. Just admit it!” He said hoping to bring his brother to his senses. “Fine, ok I thought she was hot, plus that added spunk in her caught my attention more,” Dean admitted. Sam could only smirk. “See big brother it wasn’t that hard.” He cooed at Dean. “shut up.” he said back. 

Y/N gave up. The perfect seat was gone. She wasn’t a sore loser so she just let him have it. She got his leather jacket he let her borrow then her bag and made her way to class. When she arrived she saw Dean sitting next to the chair they fought for with his bag on the seat like he was saving it.

“Hey, thanks for letting me borrow it, I promise nothing happened to it while I had it,” she said handing Dean back his jacket. Dean smiled and put it back on, he smelled her perfume mixed with his cologne that was lingering on the jacket. “Thanks.” he smiled back as he got back to his notes. Y/N stood there still wondering why the seat was not taken. “Why aren't you sitting in the good spot? Isn’t that why we fought for so long?” she smiled. Dean looked at her and chuckled, “Well, you had it first, my mom taught me better than to steal a lady's seat. So by all means sit.” 

Y/N smiled as Dean took his bag off the chair and placed it on the floor. As she sat down and gathered her things on the desk to begin working, Dean looked at her “Did you have fun at least… know with this thing happening?” Y/N giggled, “I did have to admit some parts were funny, but it was not funny when you stuck gum on the chair. It took me hours to take it all off.” she said. “I'm sorry, but you gotta admit it was funny.” he laughed. This was the first time he noticed her. He notices her hair, her eyes, her clothes, the little keychains on her backpack, and the colors on the highlighters she has. “I’m Dean, Dean Winchester,” he said with his hand out for a handshake. Y/N smiled as she took her hand in his, “Y/N L/N.” “Well Y/N I officially call a truce,” he said. Gripping even harder on her hand. “And I officially call an agreement.” she smiled. 

“Do you wanna go to lunch after class? There's this diner and trust me every seat is good.” Dean asked her smiling. Y/N’s face grew pink and she nodded her head. “Sure.” she agreed. Who knew a guy Y/N grew to dislike became someone she could tolerate and maybe even like at this school. And it was all because of a chair.

[holylulusworld]

Designed by pain (9)

Summary: Broken hearts are hard to put back together. 8 years ago, Dean lost something he didn’t even know he had in the first place. Will he get a second chance?

Pairing: former AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, language, past break-up, arguments, daddy Dean

A/N: This was an alternative idea for the first chapter of my Bucky story: Monster-in-law masterlist. I decided to use it for a story with Dean.

Designed by pain masterlist

Designed by pain (8)

Dean couldn’t find sleep that night. He tried to close his eyes, but all he saw was the ring on the bed while the words from your note echoed in his mind.

You wanted him to stop you from leaving, and he didn’t even know about it. 

His mother stole the only chance he had to see you swollen with his child and hear the first cry of his baby boy.

She stole everything from him. And he let her. 

It’s the first time in his life he doesn’t know what to do. Dean has lost his way, and he’s not sure there is a way to fix what he and his mother destroyed years ago.

Coming here was an act of desperation, nothing else. He didn’t think this through. All Dean wanted was to meet his son, and somehow, he had hoped there would be a chance you’d forgive him. 

Wishful thinking. A daydream he had hoped would come true.

A lie he sold himself so easily while he was clawing at the seat on the plane. Dean is a great pretender when it comes to his feelings. He pushes them away, pretending to not feel the emptiness inside of him since you left his side.

“Can’t sleep?” Sam yawns and slowly sits up. “Dean, you should try to get some sleep. Y/N allowed us to stay and agreed to talk to you in the morning. That’s more than you could’ve dreamed of.”

“I fucked everything up,” Dean sighs, and rolls to the other side to hide the tears well up to his eyes. “I could’ve had a life with Y/N. Sammy, I’ve missed her pregnancy, and the birth of our child. I didn’t see his first steps. His first word wasn’t daddy because I wasn’t around. Do you know how this feels? Do you?”

Sam fights the tears and the lump in his throat. He doesn’t know how it feels because he was there, watching his baby boy's every step. “No…I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Dean huffs. “I got drunk and hurt Y/N. I let Mother walk all over her and didn’t even try to contact Y/N. You wanted me to find her, but I let my doubts and issues get in the way.”

“You didn’t know about the note, and her pregnancy,” Sam slowly sits up. He slips out of the bed to place his hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I know Y/N is still hurt, but Mother played you both. If there is a slight chance Y/N will at least let you be a part of your son’s life, take it. Don’t chicken out. Just take it.”

“Fuck’s sake, I’m trying to do the right thing. It’s just…” Dean sniffs. “It’s all so fucked up. Our mother ruined my relationship out of spite. Father tried to hit on my fiancé and still drools all over her. I’m a father and don’t know how to tell my son that he grew up without a father because I was the one fucking things up between Y/N and me.”

“Can you not say fuck all the time?” Sam grunts. “You can’t cuss all the time while a kid is around. Dean, you need to learn to control your mouth and use your brain as a filter.”

“I can curse as much as I want to as long as Michael is not around,” Dean argues. “Now lemme sleep.”

“You didn’t sleep at all. Your grumpiness kept me awake,” Sam bites back. “But fine. Go ahead and ruin your chance. I’ll fly back home tomorrow.”

“Sammy…I…I need you here. I don’t know what I’m doing here,” Dean sits up to look at his brother. “Can she ever forgive me? It was all my fault…my fault alone…”

“Arthur, not now,” you rub your tired eyes while arguing with your boss and best friend. “I know you don’t like Dean, but this can’t be helped. He’s here, and I need to find a way to handle the situation. Michael deserves to know his father…doesn’t he?”

Ketch shakes his head. He stares at the closed front door while you nervously run your hands up and down your arms. “I came here to check on you because you cried last night, Y/N. He’s in town for not twenty-four hours and already made you cry. Let me throw him out of your house.”

“Ketch…” you grab his wrist and stop him from entering your house. “I love you like a brother, but this is something you can’t do for me. Michael needs to know, and I need a conclusion too. Let me handle Dean.”

“Y/N…”

“Do you trust me?” You look him straight in the eyes. “Do you believe I’m a smart and independent woman able to make my own decisions?”

“Yeah… I mean…” He stammers now. “Of course, my dear…”

“Then let me make my own decision,” you pat his hand. “You’re a good friend, and I—”

You can’t end your line because Dean storms out of your house. He immediately attacks catch, landing a blow to your friend’s cheek. “YOU! You kept her away from me! You sonofabitch! Now you come here to get her? Forget it!”

“Dean! No!” Sam tries to stop his brother, but Ketch and Dean are already throwing punches at each other. You can only watch them fight over you, or whatever they believe they are fighting for.

“DEAN!” 

“KETCH!”

You and Sam yell while the men fight and argue. Ketch yells at Dean for leaving you and his baby, while Dean calls Ketch a girlfriend-stealing gremlin.

You’d chuckle at Dean’s choice of words but they are about to seriously injure each other.

“STOP THIS NONSENSE!” Sam yells. He wants to get in between the men. “DEAN!”

“He’s my dad?” 

You turn around like in slow motion to watch your son’s eyes widen. His face falls, and he sniffles. 

“Baby…I—” you try to find the words to explain why you never told your son about his father. “We should head back inside.”

“He’s my dad?” He says again, a little louder this time. “But…” Michael shakes his head. “I hate you! All of you!” 

“No…I…” You sniffle. “Great! I hope you are both happy now!”

Part 10