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soft-pine · 2 months ago

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Timeline of Every Anecdote from Dean's Childhood in Supernatural (Full Canon Only)

My other timeline includes stuff from some of the pseudo canonical materials. This one includes only things that happen or are mentioned in the show itself.

winc*sties this is still not for you!

Still super open to feedback and suggestions if I missed something.

Content notes: death, child abuse, alcohol

1983

Dean is 4

John & Mary used to call Dean their “little piglet” because he liked to eat so much. [13.21 (this is technically in a dream of Sam's)]

Mouse Trap is Dean's favorite game. [14.17]

Mary would feed Dean tomato-rice soup when he was sick. [5.13]

Mary would sing "Hey Jude" as a lullaby. [5.13]

Dean really likes Mary's meatloaf. He doesn't know she gets it from Piggly Wiggly. [12.02]

Between May and November John and Mary had a fight and John left home for a few days. [5.16]

November 2 - Mary Winchester dies, Sam is 6 months old. [1.01, 1.21]

Mary's uncle arranges a burial and headstone even though she doesn't have a body. [2.04]

Dean doesn't speak for a while after Mary dies. [1.03]

John Meets Missouri. [1.09]

John leaves a box of pictures in the basement of the house. [1.09]

1984

Dean is 5

1985

Dean is 6

John takes Dean out shooting for the first time, using bottles as target practice. According to Dean, he "bullseyed every one of them." Dean remembers this story as him being “6 or 7." Dean cites this story as one of the fonder memories of his father. [2.06 (date suggested by John's Journal)]

Rufus spent the whole year being nice. It was the worst year of his life. [7.10]

1986

Dean is 7

Dean starts having a crush on Daisy Duke. [11.13]

Bill Harvelle dies. [2.06, 2.14 (year suggested by John's Journal)]

John began the masked vampire case - looking into killings and kidnappings along Route 77. [15.20]

1987

Dean is 8

John takes Dean and Sam on a donkey ride at the Grand Canyon. Dean’s donkey farts a lot which Sam finds very funny. [8.21]

Dean has begun hunting. [11.08]

1988

Dean is 9

John is hunting a Shtriga in Wisconsin when he leaves Sam and Dean alone in a hotel room. Dean gets bored and goes out and comes back to find the Shtriga attacking Sammy but can't steady himself in time to fire at it. John comes back but can only scare the Shtriga off. [1.18]

They know Pastor Jim by this point. [1.18]

Dean: "You couldn't been more than 5— you just started asking questions. How come we didn't have a mom? Why do we always have to move around? Where'd Dad go when he'd take off for days at a time? I remember I begged you, 'Quit asking, Sammy. Man, you don't want to know.... I just wanted you to be a kid... Just for a little while longer. I always tried to protect you... Keep you safe... Dad didn't even have to tell me. It was just always my responsibility, you know? It's like I had one job... I had one job...'" [2.22]

Dean and Sam (5) play dress up as Batman and Superman and jump of the roof of a shed. Sam breaks his arm and Dean takes him to the E.R. on the handlebars of his bike. [9.15 (mentioned again in 11.08)]

At some point before now Dean is given his first beer by Fred Jones in Salt Lake City. [8.08. He also apparently gives Sam his first beer too but it's unlikely it was this same time?]

1989

Dean is 10

“When I was 10, I got my first B&E from borrowing some family's pay-per-view so I could watch the cage match between you and the Tower of Power.” [11.15]

Bobby takes Dean to play catch instead of “practice with the double-barrel” as John had instructed Dean. In the flash back Rufus guesses the year is around 1989. “No, we didn't shoot rifles, as a matter of fact. We threw a ball around. He's a kid, John. They both are. They're entitled.... Yeah, I know I ain't their dad.” Bobby hangs up and throws the phone down. [7.10]

1980s General

(i.e. there isn't a specific date mentioned for this but I'm guessing from context that it happened in this decade)

Sam sticks army men into Baby's ashtray. [5.22]

Dean sticks Legos into the vents. [5.22]

Dean eating all of Sam's Halloween candy sometime. [12.11 & 14.04]

John taking them to see World of Wrestling. Sometime before Dean is ten. Dean calls it “one of the nicest things” John ever did. Sam remembers John getting drunk. [11.15] ("The Hangman": "He was Dad's favorite. Anytime that noose would come out, Dad would be on his feet. It was one of the few times I ever saw him actually happy.")

John takes Dean fishing. When Dean tells Jack, Jack feels from his tone that it's his happiest memory of John. [5]

Dean telling Sam a stupid joke to distract him from ripping off bandaids when he was little. [15.01]

The first beer John shared with Dean tasted like "crap". [15.20]

Sam's memory of Thanksgivings: “We had a bucket of extra-crispy and Dad passed out on the couch. [5.16]

Dean: "I always wanted to be a fireman when I grew up." [1.22]

Dean says he believed the TV ads about Sea Monkeys having families [5.06]

Dean mentions a babysitter, Mrs Chancy, who was obsessed with the TV show Dynasty [5.06], which ran until 1989 when Dean was ten. This could be a lie he's just telling a kid to get him to open up about his babysitter though.

"Alright, here we go. John Winchester's famous cure-all kitchen sink stew. There you go. Enough cayenne pepper in there to burn your lips off, just like Dad used to make." [8.21]

"You used to read to me, um, when I was little, I— I mean, really little, from that— from that old, uh... Classics Illustrated comic book. You remember that? ... Knights of the Round Table. Had all of King Arthur's knights, and they were all on the quest for the Holy Grail. And I remember looking at this picture of Sir Galahad, and, and, and he was kneeling, and— and light streaming over his face..." [8.21]

“You used to take us hunting. Remember? Dad had a case, he'd just dump us on you. Shoot, you must have taught us most of the outdoor tracking we know.” Bobby: “Yeah, what I could get to stick. I never could get you little grubs to pull a trigger on a single deer.” Dean: “You’re talking about Bambi, man.” Bobby: “You don't shoot Bambi, jackass. You shoot Bambi's mother.” [7.09]

“Not young like I was when he actually taught me how to drive.” [15]

Dean says soft rock always put Sam to sleep. [7.16]

Dean talks about learning 101 different ways to make Mac 'n Cheese for Sam at a motel in Scranton while John was off hunting. "ketchup for spice, hmm? Uh, tuna, hot dogs, fluff marshmallow mix." [10.11]

1990

Dean is 11

January - John is injured on a hunt in Windom, Minnesota, and goes to the hospital, where he meets Kate Milligan. [4.19]

September 29 - Adam Milligan is born. [4.19]

At some point Dean makes a sawed off. He's in sixth grade. [3.03]

Dean tries burgers from a seaside shack in Delaware that become his favorite. [4.22]

1991

Dean is 12

December 25 - Sam and Dean are at a motel in Broken Bow, Nebraska while John hunts. Sam reads John's Journal and finds out that Mary's death was supernatural, monsters are real, and that John hunts them. He confronts Dean, who confirms it. Sam gives Dean an amulet. [3.08]

1992

Dean is 13

John buys a Playboy featuring Anna-Nicole Smith, eventually both boys end up reading it. [7.22]

June - Sam tells John he is afraid of the monster in his closet and John gives him a .45. [1.01]

Sam wants to go hunting with Dean. Dean says John said no. John calls to ask Sam to come. [11.08]

1993

Dean is 14

January – Motel Baba Yaga case. Dean says, “I was babysitting you when I was your age”. Sam says "I'm pretty sure that's illegal." Dean sees the nest, a pile of dead kids and has "nightmares about it for the longest time." [15.16]

1994

Dean is 15

Summer - Sam and Dean spend part of the summer being looked after by Donna, a babysitter (and maid at the Mayflower) in Housatonic, Massachusetts, while John hunts. At one pointJohn is gone for two weeks. It is the summer before Sam enters 6th grade, and he assigns himself a summer reading list. Dean possibly has a crush on Donna. [5.12]

October - They are living In Bismark (North Dakota?). Sam has a crush on Andrea Howell & has a really bad experience at her Halloween party, throwing up. Sam hides in the woods until Dean comes and gets him. [14.04]

Sam still believes in the Easter Bunny until close to here. [10.12]

1995

Dean is 16

Dean's first Werewolf. Sam doesn't go to the body burning. "So. I pick up this crossbow. And I hit that ugly sucker with a silver-tipped arrow right in his heart. Sammy's waiting in the car, and uh, me and my dad take the thing into the woods, burn it to a crisp. I'm sitting there and looking into the fire, and I'm thinking to myself, I'm sixteen years old. Most kids my age are worried about pimples, prom dates. I'm seeing things that they'll never even know. Never even dream of." [2.03]

Dean spends two months at Sonny's Home for Boys after being caught shoplifting. [9.07]

April 20 - Dean's award for New York Wrestling Champion. [9.07]

November 13 – Sam's soccer team won division championship. John keeps the trophy. [3.03]

Sam later talks about how John was upset with him for wanting to play soccer instead of learning bowhunting. [1.08]

November 24 - Sam has his first traditional Thanksgiving dinner at his crush Stephanie’s house. He has been attending a school called McKinley for two weeks. [5.16]

1996

Dean is 17

July 4 - Dean and Sam set off fireworks in a field and almost burn it down. [5.16]

At some point when Sam was 13 he ran away for two weeks while under Dean's watch in Flagstaff, Arizona, living off pizza in a cabin and befriending a dog he called Bones. Dean scoured the whole town looking for him and worried he might have died, and John was furious when he found out. [5.16]

1997

Dean is 18

When he's 13, Sam briefly wants to be a magician. [4.12]

Summer - The Winchesters hunt a werewolf. [4.13]

November - Sam and Dean attend Truman High in Fairfax, Indiana, for 3 or 4 weeks, while John is on a hunt that was originally supposed to be 2 weeks but ended up taking longer than expected. Dean is in 12th Grade. It is the third school they have attended since September. [4.13]

1998

Dean is 19

Sam is a mathlete. [4.04]

Summer - While John and Dean are off hunting a Kitsune, Sam stays in Lincoln, Nebraska, and does research for them. While there, he meets a girl and has his first kiss - only to discover that John and Dean's hunt has circled back on him. [7.03]

July - Dean goes on a solo "five states in five days" road trip, but ends up spending most of it in Cicero, Indiana, with Lisa Braeden. In the meantime, John & Sam "tie up a hunt" in Orlando, Florida. [3.02]

Dean meets Rhonda Hurley, she makes him try on her pink, satin panties and he likes it. [5.04]

At some point they spend time with Travis, the hunter. [4.04]

1999

Dean is 20

1990s General

Dean trying to cook Winchester Surprise on a hotplate with food (baloney and sliced cheese) that it seems Sam shoplifted in the rain. John gets home and throws it out. [14.11] In Lebanon John tells Sam he remembers this and apologizes to Sam for it. [14.13]

Sam and Dean visited the Cleveland Botanical Gardens on a field trip. [5.16]

Dean going to CBGB "way underage" and John coming to get him. [10.09]

Hunting the chupacabra in Mexico. Sam is an olderish teenager when he says this happened the year before. [11.10]

John making Dean be bait. [14.14 production draft. Corroborated by 1.20. Putting this in 1990s and not 1980s is very generous imo.]

Dean used to live on “Nerve Damage” (“10 times the legal limit of caffeine”) as a kid. [13.08]

Escalating prank wars? [1.17] Sam mentions a time Dean put superglue in his toothpaste [15.06]

Could be 80s too: Dean: “Remember that wreath Dad brought home that one year?” Sam: “You mean the one he stole from, like, a liquor store?” Dean: “Yeah, it was a bunch of empty beer cans. That thing was great.” [3.08]

Sam performing in Our Town. [1.16]

Sam talks about having to make his own dinner as a kid. [5.06]

2000

Dean is 21

2001

Dean is 22

Sam smokes weed maybe. [11.19]

Pre-2002, 2000s General

Sam & Dean driving 1,000 miles for an Ozzy show. [5.22]

Driving two days for a Jayhawks game. [5.22]

John catches Lee and Dean 'wasted' on a hunt. [15.17]

John plays Dean and Lee “Good Ol Boys” before hunts. “Listen up boys this is real music. [15.17]

Sam used to try to get him & Dean to do 'honest work' rather than hustling pool. [5.22]

The Las Vegs annual trip. [7.08]

Sam ran tech for a production of Oklahoma. [10.05]

John gives Dean the Impala. [1.20] (John's Journal suggests this was on Dean's 18th birthday which would have been 1997.)

2002

Dean is 23

John gives Sam the "hunting is life; you can't have connections" speech. [4.19]

Sam says he's leaving hunting to go to Stanford University. John says if he leaves to stay gone. [1.01, 1.20]

September - Adam Milligan meets John Winchester. [4.19] (This could be any time from now til 2003 but I think it would be now because John will want to feel he can replace Sam or do something right.)

Post-2002, 2000s General

Dean sleeps with Annie. [7.19]

Dean sees Lee while Sam's in college. [15.17] Possibly the 'cult thing in Arizona' 'what that thing did to that family, those kids.' Because Lee does one more job after that in Texas and retires.

At some point Dean hunts a Vetala and learns they usually hunt in pairs. [7.11]

At some point Dean hunts a succubus with Richie. [3.04]

Poltergeist case in Kittanning, PA. [1.04]

John teaches Adam to drive using the Impala (this is after John gave Dean the car for his 18th). He also teaches Adam poker and pool. [4.19]

John "used to swing by Stanford whenever he could. Keep an eye on [Sam]. Make sure [Sam was] safe." [1.08] because he was worried Sam was "alone, vulnerable'' [1.20] and "he was afraid of what could've happened to you if he wasn't around." [1.08]

2003

Dean is 24

Dean dates Cassie Robinson. She breaks up with Dean after Dean tells her about hunting. [1.13] It lasts less than two months. [5.11]

June 21 - Dean is involved in a hunt for the father of Cole Trenton, in Nyack, NY. [10.02]

John gets taken from this year into the future in "Lebanon." He is sleeping in the Impala and Dean calls him and he tells him he'll be back soon. [14.13]

2004

Dean is 25

September 29 - John takes Adam to a ballgame for his 14th birthday. [4.19]

2005

Dean is 26, dude.

September 29 - John buys Adam a beer when he's 15. [4.19]

Roughly October 10 - John cuts off contact with Dean. [1.01]

October 31 – Dean comes to get Sam. [1.01]

Dean: "I must have stood outside your dorm for hours... because I didn't... I didn't know what... What you would say. I thought you'd tell me to... to get lost or get dead. And I don't know what I would've done... if I didn't have you. 'Cause I was so scared." [15.20]

General Comments

(i.e. just quotes and things that are too general to place at a specific time. i've sorted them roughly into themes but all of these themes are also present in incidents above.)

Dean says he's been wanting John and Mary back together since he was four. [14.13]

John's absence

Sam: "You remember the poltergeist in Amherst? Or the Devil's Gates in Clifton? He was missing then, too. He's always missing, and he's always fine." [1.01]

Dean mentions how John would dump him and Sam at Bobby's. [7.09]

Toni Bevell saying about John's drunken rages and weeks of abandonment. Also pointing out that Dean & Sam didn't tell Mary about it. [12.21]

Sam says John would be gone for weeks at a time and "he wasn't exactly a monk." [4.19]

Sam says John "was not around much." [11.05]

Sam talks about worrying when John & Dean would be out on a hunt and he wouldn't hear from them for days. He thought about what he would do. [11.18]

John's drinking

In the pilot Sam comments that John is likely missing because he's drinking. [1.01]

Sam comments that a dad bringing their kid to a wrestling match to distract them while he drinks seems familiar. [11.15]

See also 1980's general [1.22]

John spends Dean and Sam's college funds on ammo [1.20]

Hunting

John saying hunter gatherings were trouble and in general keeping Sam & Dean away from them. [2.03, 12.06]

Dean says he and John weren't using disguises for hunting. [1.09]

Sam saying it seemed to him Dean & John bonded over hunting. [12.20]

Dean learned to use CB radios to look for leads from truckers. John used them all the time. [13.11]

“I'm starting to get why parents lie to their kids. You want them to believe that the worst thing out there is mixing Pop Rocks and Coke—protect them from the real evil. You want them going to bed feeling safe. If that means lying to them, so be it. The more I think about it...the more I wish Dad had lied to us.” [5.06]

Gordon Walker meets John "Hell of a guy. Great hunter." [2.03]

John maintains connections with Caleb, Jefferson, and Pastor Jim. Caleb sometimes supplies him with munitions [1.11]

John hunts with and then has a falling out with Daniel Elkins [1.20]

John hunts with and hooks up with Tara but never calls her back. [9.11]

At some point, John and Bobby have a falling out and Bobby threatens to shoot John if he ever sees him again [1.21]

“Growing up on the road, no matter where Dad dragged us, no matter what we did, there was always a TV. And you know what was on that TV? Scooby and the gang.” [13.16]

Dean: “Ah well, growing up it was a… it was always nice to check out once in a while. I like to watch movies where I know the bad guy is going to lose.” [14.04]

The Hustler was John's favorite movie [15.11]

(for the record, I didn't sort and collate every comment about john or their childhoods here. i mostly tried to pick one which were a little bit more detailed rather than just general attitudes. but if you want to see all comments made about john throughout the show, click here)

#i've been meaning to do this version for so long!#spn info dump #spn fic resource #dean winchester #sam winchester #john winchester #john winchester's a+ parenting #supernatural #spn

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moonlightspencie · 2 years ago

Text

This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggesting, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victim with a missing liver. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

“Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

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#i haven’t written a spn fic in years this felt good #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #dean winchester one shot #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #delicate #reputation #taylor swift #gender neutral reader #luna’s dean fics

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arjwrites · 8 months ago

Text

Times You Threatened to Kill Dean Winchester- Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: A brief account of all the times you wanted to kill a certain hunter.

Warnings: Language, character death, thoughts of suicide, references to sex, threats... A good mix of fluff and angst! Word Count: 2.3k A/N: This one was a labor of love! I have a few other fics in the works as per a few requests I have received, but this one was speaking to me tonight, so I sat down to write it! Please enjoy- in the meantime, your requests are coming soon! <3

“Dean Winchester, I could just KILL you!”

You were extremely familiar with the Winchester boys’ prank wars by now. You had been witness to a few different cycles of this behavior over the many years you had known them- in fact, if someone were to dig through the old cardboard box you kept hidden in the spare room at Bobby’s, they’d probably find a few faded teenage pictures of a bald Sam after Dean snuck Nair into his shampoo, or a sleeping Dean with some sharpie-d enhancements adorning his face. But up until now, you had always kept to the sidelines. Time and time again, you claimed Switzerland to avoid their shenanigans, because it always got way too out of hand.

But today, when you climbed out of bed, still groggy with sleep, stepping into the bathroom of your shared motel room, an entire bucket’s worth of ice water that had been balanced atop the door came crashing down on you. The sensation sent a shockwave through your whole body, and from the noise that escaped your lips, you would’ve thought you had been shot. And to add insult to injury, the bucket itself smacked against your head on its way down.

So to start your day, you were soaking wet, freezing, pissed off, and nursing a swelling bump atop your head. A blind rage filled your body. You knew it had to have been Dean, it was his turn to retaliate after Sam had messed with the stereo in the Impala so that it only played Barbie Girl. It had been a long, silent ride home after last night’s hunt.

“Dean Winchester, you are a dead man!” The words came bursting out of you as you stormed your way out of the bathroom.

“What did I- Oh my GOD. That wasn’t for you.” Dean’s eyes looked like they were going to bug out of his head. He knew he had fucked up.

The first thing to go flying across the room was the bucket, which nailed Dean in the chest with an anticlimactic thud. You followed close behind it. At full speed, you sprinted into Dean, knocking him back onto the bed behind him.

“Get off me! You’re soaking wet!” Dean protested, throwing his arms between you two in an effort to shield himself.

“Yeah, how do you like it?” You weren’t going to back down.

So that is how you ended up wrestling with Dean. You put up a surprisingly good fight for a lot longer than you expected, able to overpower him via sheer force of will. Once Dean got his bearings, though, he flipped you over, hovering on top of you and pinning you to the bed by your wrists. You held an intense eye contact for a brief moment while you each caught your breath. In doing so, you came to the mutual realization that this was ridiculous. You didn’t know who cracked the smile first, but as Dean’s grew, so did yours, until you were grinning like idiots and erupting into laughter.

“You know, this isn’t what I meant when I said I wanted you wet and in my bed,” Dean raised his eyebrows and tossed you a sly wink.

“Yup, I’m doing it. I am killing you.”

“Dean I swear to God, if you keep me cooped up in this motel room for one more minute I am going to lose my mind.”

“Would you relax? Sam and I are almost back at the witch’s house. We’ll gank her, it’ll reverse the spell, you’ll be right as rain.”

“God I hope so. This is driving me up the wall. I will never watch another second of daytime TV after this.” With the press of a button, you hung up the phone and tossed it across the room onto the bed. This was getting seriously old.

While taking on a vengeful spirit case, you and the Winchesters had run into a particularly pesky witch. Long story short, she cast a spell at you, and none of you could figure out what it was. It was driving you crazy, and what was driving you crazier was that the boys had locked you in the motel room for two days while they tracked the witch back down. All around town, all over the area, until they finally caught her trail heading back to her own house. Where they had started.

The problem was, you felt fine. You really didn’t think there was anything wrong with you. You wanted to get out there and help them, do some research, go to the damn grocery store, literally anything. But Sam and Dean had insisted that the safest thing for you to do was to stay behind. We don’t know what she did to you, Y/N. It could be dangerous for you to leave. It’s better if you stay here and do absolutely nothing. It made sense, to an extent, you just weren’t very happy about it.

After a few hours and several more episodes of the most mind-numbing daytime talk shows you could imagine, you heard the sound of keys jingling and the motel door creeping open. In came Dean, wearing a strange expression on his face. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought it was fear.

“So? Ding dong, the witch is dead, I don’t have to blow my brains out?” You asked, more than ready to be done with the whole fiasco.

“Um.” Dean was avoiding eye contact. His hands slipped into his pocket and he sucked in a long, sharp breath.

“Dean.”

“So, uh, maybe…” He slipped a hand across his mouth, stalling his words. “Look, you might have to stick around here for one more day. We uh, think she might be in the town over, but we kind of lost her trail.”

On the car ride back to the motel, Dean had prepared for you to react by yelling, screaming, hitting, anything to unleash the anger he knew was coming. In fact, that was why Sam had waited in the car- to give him a little time to break the news. But in front of Dean was something much, much scarier. Your jaw was clenched, your gaze was distant, and your eyes narrowed. You were just… sitting there. The silence lasted for what felt like ages. It was enough to send the man spiraling. Finally, you looked up.

“Dean?”

“... Yes?”

“You better kill that witch tomorrow before I kill you.”

“Duly noted.”

Losing Sam had been just about the worst thing that could have ever happened to any of you. Watching him fall to his knees after Jake backstabbed him, Dean cradling him as the life finally slipped from his body… It brought you to tears just thinking about it. You had loved Sam like a little brother. But as much as it tore you up inside, his death had happened. So goes the life of a hunter. It was time to let Sam rest.

Dean, however, had still refused to make peace with the loss of his brother. It had been several days and Sam’s lifeless body was still laying out on a mattress. Dean just couldn’t let go. You and Bobby had begged him to let you lay Sam to rest, but he simply wasn’t having it. Dean was angry, defensive, and hurt, far deeper than you had ever seen. After conferring privately with each other, you and Bobby figured maybe it would be best to give him a little time alone with Sam, for closure’s sake.

So a day later when Sam Winchester, live and in the flesh, waltzed into the room to thank you and Bobby for patching up his wound without so much as a second thought, your heart dropped like a rock. The feeling that washed over you was worse than any grief you had felt this past week. Of course, it was amazing to have Sam back- it felt like a miracle. But miracles don’t just happen, especially not to Winchesters. And when you looked to Dean, he refused to meet your eyes.

Not wanting to alert Sam of the situation, you made an excuse to get Dean to follow you outside. You trudged as far as you could in silence, you not daring to look in his direction, until you knew you were out of earshot from the house.

“What did you do, Dean?” Your back was still turned, and your voice was hardly a whisper. You were surprised Dean could hear you at all.

“Y/N-”

“What did you DO? How long did they give you?” The question ripped from your chest, but you weren’t sure you were ready to hear the answer.

“A year.”

One year. You dropped to the ground. The gravel dug into your skin, but all your senses were numbed with hurt. You wanted to ask what made him think he could do this- to Bobby, to Sammy, to you? But when you opened your mouth to speak, the ache that resonated through your chest stifled the words.

Dean slid down next to you in silence. He wrapped a single arm around you, and you leaned your head into him. All you could do was cry silent, heavy tears. For what felt like hours, there was nothing you could say. The pit in your stomach swirled back and forth from anger to despair to fear, culminating in a blinding nausea. You looked up at Dean, who simply stared straight ahead. There was a staggering coldness in his eyes that drove the knife further into your core.

“God damn it Dean Winchester, I could just kill you myself, right now.”

“You’ll have to get in line, sweetheart.”

If you thought a few days without Sam had been bad, four whole months without Dean was your own personal hell. After Dean’s time was up, you couldn’t bear to be around anyone who reminded you of him. You hadn't spoken to Bobby or Sam or any other hunters- any other people, for that matter. You had practically dug yourself a grave, isolated from the world around you, lost and in the dark.

This was the worst hurt you had ever felt in your life. Four months later and the wound in your heart was just as fresh as the day it arrived there. Every time it began to heal, one wrong move and it started aching, throbbing, bleeding again. But at this point, the pain was all you had left of Dean. So you let it bleed.

The knock on the motel room door did nothing to stir you from your place in bed. It had been days, maybe a week, since you had risen for anything but your basic needs. You had called the front desk to extend your stay multiple times, running up a scammed credit card Dean had probably given to you at some point. There was nowhere else for you to go, so you laid down weary roots right here.

The knock persisted but you remained still. It could’ve been the police, the president, or the pope and you couldn’t have cared any less. Go away. There was a clanging noise followed by the shifting of the lock’s mechanisms. Whoever it was, they were breaking into your room. A few months ago, you would’ve jumped into action, but all of your hunter self-preservation instincts were long gone. Whoever it was could come in and take whatever they wanted and shoot you dead in the process. Maybe they’d be doing you a favor.

You rolled over in bed as the door creaked open, prepared to lay eyes on whoever was here to bring your demise. However, you were met with the one face that could have coaxed you out of the bed. The face you hadn’t seen in four months. The look in his eyes teemed with love and longing, which made your stomach churn.

“This is a real sick joke.”

“No, Y/N, it’s-”

For the first time since before Dean’s death, you snapped into hunter-mode, rising to your feet and snatching holy water and a knife from the bag under your bed in the process. It was a little slow, a little clumsy, and clearly a bit out of practice.

“You know, I was about to let whoever you were come right in and kill me. What reason do I have to stick around anymore? But this- this is just sick.” You laughed- your first laugh in months, and yet nothing was funny.

“It’s me, Y/N, I-”

“No. I’m going to kill you now.” And you lunged, splashing holy water with one hand and thrusting the knife with the other.

When Dean caught your hand before the knife could strike him, twisting your arm to defend himself from your lackluster attack, it took you longer than it should have to realize that the holy water hadn’t fazed him. Before it registered, you struggled against his grasp, but months of malnutrition and stagnant muscles had left you weak. You cried out as you fought, before fully dissolving into tears and dropping the knife in a mix of defeat and acceptance. Dean placed two heavy hands on your shoulders as if to ground you back in the moment.

“It’s me. I swear.” The beads of holy water that rolled off his face paralleled the tears that rolled off yours. Your hand reached up to wipe a droplet away- partially out of habit, partially to test that he was real, that he wouldn’t disappear at your touch. He didn’t. Instead, both his hands planted on your face, matching your movement.

“Oh, Dean.” That was the only way you could express it. Dean. Here, real, standing in front of you, and not a demon. Just pure Dean.

“Hi sweetheart,” he whispered, and it felt like home. He pulled you into a gentle hug, as if he harbored the same fear as you- that you may disappear beneath his very touch. But you were real, and so was he. You wouldn’t disappear, and neither would he. Dean was back, and because of that, you were back too.

“Good thing you didn’t kill me, right?”

#dean winchester angst #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean winchester reader insert #supernatural #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester one shot #supernatural one shot

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swtsupernatural · 2 months ago

Text

S.W || SILK & SHAPESHIFTERS

Sam Winchester x Thick!Fem!Reader

Content Warning reader being shorter than Sam, reader desc as having thick thighs, dean being annoying, swearing, reader wanting to fuck sam (but no sexual content in this fic)

Summary Fluff, (Sexual tension lowk) strangers to acquaintances to lovers(?) - You didn't work in the field. You did research. But when your good friend Bobby Singer asks you to help some friends of his by posing as a couple at a charity ball, you don't refuse.

W.C. 2.2k words

Ask anon: A: Hello hello! I'm back again; I'm going to change my request style a bit, how about a female reader with thick thighs? Make her with Sam please

Playlist: ♫ Bed Chem - Sabrina Carpenter, Shoot to Thrill - AC/DC

A.N. sam fic ! i am curvy so i was excited asf for this req !!! part 2 coming soon... ;) - claire xx

Being a Lore-keeper has its perks. It let you put your literary degree to some use, and it didn't usually get you into too much trouble. But, tonight it had. Bobby Singer was one of your favorite hunters; always treated you well, housed you in sticky situations, and sometimes had books or information you didn’t know about that he offered for you to borrow. Usually, he came to you for information. He didn’t hunt a lot, but it was still more than you hunted. But, when he and his hunter friends did go out looking for trouble, he often came to you for information. When he’d asked you to help out some of his family on a case that was real serious, you agreed begrudgingly. But only after Bobby told you your outfit, dinner, and drinks that night would be paid for by this said ‘family’ of his.

You’d already done a bit of research for him about this particular case and even you knew it was a tricky one. You’d spent the last week trying to piece all of the information together — running it through your countless trusted lore books, sites you favored, and even paper clippings and newspapers from the library. The place in question was only a few hours from Bobby’s in some fancy estate you’d mapped out by memory the last few days. You were guessing it was your least favorite of the supernatural creatures you’d perilously studied — shapeshifters. They made your skin crawl, and were tricky when they came in multiple. The family you suspected they were impersonating were the Bradys, a rich family that had lived in South Dakota for generations and hosted fundraiser parties each year for some organization their rich friends ran. Some of the members of the family had been photographed partaking in some suspicious activity, activity of which the police deemed fine of course; but you were smart enough to know this was your type of problem. A few of them had also seemingly gone missing, and either mysteriously turned up fine, or were still a missing persons case.

You decided to use Bobby’s as a place to get ready the second he offered, he lived closest anyways. You thought it was best to come over in the morning to talk more to him and whoever you were going on the case with, plan everything out. He’d been vague about who it was, though, and when you walked inside and saw Sam and Dean Winchester holding suits, a shopping bag, an EMF reader, and a pack of Coronas, you knew why.

You’d never given the boys information directly — Bobby had told you he relayed much information from you to them in tricky cases, but that the older one, Dean, was too prideful to ask you directly yet. Of course, like all male jackass hunters, he had eventually asked when he learned what they were dealing with and all the intricacies that you were extremely skillful in. The catch was that you hated field work, but also loved an excuse to get dressed up. You’d told Bobby your dress and shoe size, and sure enough, the taller one was holding a dark velvety blue dress over his arm.

“y/n, this is Sam, and this is Dean.” The shorter one, though he towered over you still, stuck out his hand, that jackass smirk on his face you knew he’d have.

“Heard a lot about you.” He spoke, the smirk still on his, admittedly handsome, face.

You didn’t like having your guard up. You hated it really, but being in your line of work and constantly dealing with men who dismissed your intelligence made you rightfully put up walls when you’d first meet them.

“Heard a lot about you too, but don’t think that means I’m your best friend now. I’m doing this for Bobby.”

The taller one smiled gingery, letting out a silent laugh watching Dean’s ego deflate. You turned to him, sticking out your hand. “Sam. Nice to meet you. And uh, thanks for coming out on this case, Bobby said field work isn't usually your thing so we really appreciate it.” You already preferred him. A lot, actually. He was tall, and looked way too fucking cute in that oversized brown hoodie he still had on despite being inside Bobby’s fairly warm home.

“We’re taking off at five so we’ll be right on time, okay?” Dean said to the two of you, rolling his eyes at how you hadn’t made any sassy comments at his brother.

“Sounds good. May I have my items, gentleman? I’m not doing this for free.” Sam smiled again, more noticeably this time, handing you the dress and shoes, and a purse, which you hadn't asked for but were not going to turn down.

“Thank you. So, the game plan is…?” “Game plan is you and I pose as a date and distract people while Dean sneaks around and corners a couple shifters, ganks ‘em, and then we get out before all hell breaks loose.”

You shrugged, looking at Sam, “Sounds good to me.” Of course he was cute and smart. God, you usually never let some guy get between you and case work, but he was making it hard. But if all you had to do was pose as a couple…

“Wait. If you needed me for acting I don’t know why you couldn’t call someone else.”

“We don’t know who's a shifter and who isn’t. That’s the problem. You know their tells, what makes them tick, how to trick them, the layout of the place. Bobby's got some ear pieces for all of us so you can help me from afar, don’t have to get your hands dirty.” Dean grunted, losing his dark leather jacket and grabbing a suit, heading to the bathroom to change.

“How thoughtful,” you mused, and he smiled annoyingly at you.

“We’ll talk more in the car, okay? Just get ready and we’ll be here if you have any more questions.” Sam said softly. HIs voice was deep and smooth, and it made you want to grab him by his collar and lock the two of you in Bobby’s guest room. Instead, you opted for pushing your thighs together and clearing your throat. “Sounds good. Thank you.” He smiled, going into the guest room with his own suit. You opted to lock yourself upstairs in the bathroom blasting music while you did your makeup in order to pump yourself up. You were a bit nervous, but you didn’t have to do dirty work, you got a nice new outfit, hopefully a nice drink, and a hot date? This was much better than how you thought your night was going to go — curled up on the couch, looking through way too many old files and books for another hunter, playing an old movie in the background and wishing you were elsewhere. You liked your job, you really did. But sometimes it drove you crazy how little you saw other people, people your own age especially. Tonight was like a gift sent from the angels. Well, ones that you hadn’t met; so far they had all been dicks.

“y/n, ya’ almost ready?” Dean called up, just as you finished styling your hair in a classy style.

“Coming!” You came down the stairs in a navy dress that hugged your curves pretty well, you thought. The dress was pretty low cut and the sides came up at a slit high up on your right leg. You honestly felt exposed, you usually didn't dress like this. Sam still had your heels, and when you came down, the first thing you saw was his eyes on your legs, stopping him from tying up his shoes.

You heard a low whistle behind you, and Dean’s gruff voice, “Damn, you clean up nice.” Bobby smacked him over the head with the book he was reading, going to the kitchen to get you an earpiece he had for each of you.

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” You smiled, walking over to Sam on the couch. He was still occupied with your dress, and his eyes were making your face burn up. Your brain couldn't decipher how he was feeling based on his face… you teetered between him wanting to rip off your dress and stay home with you all night, or that he thought you looked…not good. You knew you didn't have skinny model legs, but that wasn't you job. Your job was to decode, translate, find, and relay important information to hunters, stopping people from dying. That was you job, and you were good at it. There was so much more to you than your looks, and if someone couldn't see that then fuck them. But, with how stuffy the room was and how close Sam was to you, you wrapped your arms around your shoulders, sitting a bit far from Sam asking for your shoes despite the voices in your head telling you you were fine.

“Y-yeah, here. I’ll put them on.” Your mouth opened to speak, but it was dry and nothing came out. Sam leaned down from the couch, sitting on his knees right in front of you. You finally stretched out your left ankle, and he slid on one of the black stilettos they'd picked out for you. He set down your foot after buckling the straps, grabbing your right ankle and moving it forward gently, causing the fabric of your dress to fall between your thighs on one side, and on the very back of your hip on the other, your leg completely bare. Sam finished tying up your second shoe, his eyes flashing to your soft thigh before clearing his throat and offering a hand to help you stand up.

Once you were stable, you flattened down your dress. You looked up at Sam and pouted at how much taller he still was than you.

“Aren’t these like…almost 4 inches?” Sam looked down at you and chuckled deeply.

“Uh, yeah. They are. Disappointed you're still shorter than me?” You rolled your eyes and glimpsed over him — eyes trailing his fitted black suit, the fabric clinging to his chest and legs nicely.

“What are you, like part giant? 7 feet tall?” You said it as a joke, but you honestly thought he had to be close to that.

“Please,” Sam said, a bit close to your ear, leaning down to talk to you, “I’m…6’5. Just about.”

“Jesus…” you muttered, and realized you’d said it outloud. “Uh, we should get going soon, I think, it’s almost five, right?”

Sam nodded, squinting his eyes at your lower body so quickly you almost missed it. Dean put ear pieces in each of your hands and showed you how to use them. You followed the brothers out to their car and said bye to Bobby.

“Be careful, idjits. Keep in contact.”

“Will do.” You said, smiling to Bobby before getting in the back of the car, Sam opening and closing the door for you before sliding into the front seat a bit awkwardly from how long his legs were.

“Ready?” Dean uttered, putting his elbow on Sam’s seat.

“As ever.” You tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, seeing Dean’s vividly green eyes through the rear view mirror. Shoot to Thrill by AC/DC came on, and Sam mused on your quiet singing.

“You like AC/DC?” Sam asked, turning around a bit to talk to you more clearly.

“Yea, that, Metallica, some Guns N’ Roses, Rolling Stones....” Sam groaned, rolling his eyes, knowing Dean would have some stupid comment about that.

“Really?” Dean spoke up, turning down the music a bit.

“Yes. Don’t cream your pants.” Sam smiled at that. It wasn’t super often that women Dean hit on shut him down as unreservedly as you did.

“I know you got eyes for my idiot brother, but at least entertain me.”

“Okay. Who was the one that picked out the dress? And shoes? And purse?” You smirked at the back of Dean’s head.

“Sammy…” Dean mumbled begrudgingly.

“That's what I thought. Can you turn the music back up?” Dean’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. He’d never had someone come in his car and tell him to do something like that, but he did so without saying anything.

Hours passed, and the Impala rolled to a stop in front of the biggest most obnoxious house you’d ever seen.

“Jesus. Showoff much?” Dean voiced from the front seat, unbuckling and stepping out. Sam followed, opening your door before you got the chance.

“So civilized.” You said poshly, seeing that adorable smile you liked seeing on Sam’s beautiful face.

“Alright. You two go inside first. Use the earpiece to tell me when you know where one is, tell me which way to go. We don’t know each other, got it? You got your fake, y/n?” said Dean.

“My what?” Sam handed you an ID with a photo of your face, but it didn’t say your name. “How many of these do you guys have? Actually, don’t answer that.” Sam held out his right arm and you slid yours under his. He began walking, taking large spread out steps. You saw his face flash, knowing he realized you were struggling to keep up; not just from your heels, but from his obnoxious height.

“Sorry,” he muttered, again, with that deep, smooth voice close to your ear. Fuck. This is gonna be a hard night.

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castiwls · 10 months ago

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"uh-oh, i'm falling in love."

being Bobby's adopted daughter and falling in love with Dean... [requested - anon]

You were around 15 when your parents were killed in a hunting incident and as a result, Bobby ended up taking you in.

You’d spent the first few months sulking around the house, something which began to worry Bobby as months passed and your behaviour seemed no different.

He knew he had to break your behaviour somehow but he was completely stumped. That was until one day he woke up to John quickly shoving his sons in the door before running off to do go knows what.

Silently cursing the man out he quickly invited the two boys inside before continuing with breakfast (now for 4 people).

“Who are they?” You looked up from the book you’d been reading, frowning in slight confusion at the two boys who were currently standing in the doorway. The younger of the two smiled brightly before almost tripping over himself to see what you were reading while the older silently gapped in the doorway. Since when did Bobby have a daughter?

After this, you quickly found friends in both the boys.

While Sam was someone who you could talk to about lore and any other books you might have been reading, Dean was someone who you were able to fully confide in.

Over the three weeks the boys stayed you and Dean quickly became inseparable and for the first time in months, you didn't feel grief-stricken constantly. You actually felt happy.

Over the years Sam and Dean became a constant in your life. As you grew older Bobby began letting you go on hunts with the Winchesters (something which Dean enjoyed more than he would admit.)

Over time though you felt a slight shift in your feelings towards the older boy. Every time you saw him or even heard his voice butterflies would swarm in your stomach and your cheeks would quickly grow hot.

The shrill ringing of your phone pulled you from your book. A small frown played on your lips as you noted the name on your screen. “Hello?” Placing your book down you crossed your legs sitting up properly on your bed. “Hey. I didn’t wake you right?” Dean sounded sheepish almost as he spoke. At the sound of his voice, a small burst of butterflies exploded in your stomach. “no..no I was awake.”

Late-night phone calls quickly became an almost daily occurrence whenever you weren't together, and when you were together these phone calls were exchanged for late-night diner trips just the two of you.

Every day you felt yourself falling harder and harder for Dean Winchester and little did you know he felt the same.

After Sam had gone to Stanford Dean had showed up on your doorstep only hours later, his eyes red as he’d quietly asked to stay the night.

He’d ended up staying for a few weeks after that. You’d spent every day together over that time simply listening to him talk about what had happened between his dad and brother and how he was scared for Sam being on his own.

As happy as you were that Sam had gotten out it broke your heart slightly to see how Dean was handling the situation.

Over this time you’d found yourself more than once falling asleep beside him (something which Bobby wasn’t too happy about) and you’d also felt yourself grown closer and closer to him.

He’d allowed himself to be vulnerable around you, something which you knew was hard for him. The idea that he trusted you enough simply left your heart fluttering in your chest.

During these few weeks, Dean quickly found himself falling further and further in love with you. He’d known for a while now that he had feelings for you but the way you’d allowed him to unload onto you and made him realise how utterly in love with you he truly was.

One night when you’d both been sat on one of the old cars in the scrap yard he finally felt his feelings bubble over.

The world was quiet as you and Dean both sat watching the stars above. You knew he had to leave soon, his dad had been relentless with his calls saying that Dean needed to come back to his job and that he’d had enough time. Truthfully you didn’t want him to leave. Over the last few weeks, you’d grown used to the warmth of him beside you. “My dad’s coming in the morning.” Dean turned to face you. “He insisted this time.” He frowned, rubbing his thumb over your hand. “What time?” You asked quietly turning to look at him. “He didn’t give one,” Dean answered. You both fell slightly for a moment, simply gazing into each other's eyes. As if being pulled in by a magnet you felt your body move on its own until you met Dean halfway. As his lips pressed against yours you felt his hand cup the back of your head while your own moved to his knee.

After that night your relationship changed. Neither of you actually asked the question but the unspoken promise was there. Dean Winchester had stolen your heart and it seemed you had also stolen his.

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ninii-winchester · 6 months ago

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Lie to me

Pairing : Dean Winchester X reader

Word count : 4k

Warnings : angst, hurt/no comfort, Major character death, depressing thoughts, canon violence.

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO COPY MY WORK, TRANSLATE IT OR POST IT TO ANY OTHER PLATFORM. REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

Dean was tossing and turning in his bed in the motel room. Sam was soundly asleep on the other bed. The two of them had just burn the bones of an old lady who was haunting her old house after she'd committed suicide. Dean was tired but he couldn't fall asleep. He quietly left the room and made his way towards Baby. He knew he shouldn't disturb Y/n this late but he knew she barely slept herself. It was two in the morning and he texted her asking if she's awake and she called him instead of answering.

"Why aren't you asleep?" Was the first thing she asked as he picked up.

"I could ask you the same thing." He retorted settling in the front seat of the Impala.

"I'm not the one who came from a hunt." She replied and he chuckled. He loved how she reprimanded him for the exact same thing she does herself. He knew she wouldn't let it go unless he turned the conversation around, so he filled her in all about the hunt and how she should've joined them for this one.

"It was literally just a ghost. Salt and burn. It didn't even need two people and you're saying I should've came along too." She replied sassily. They talked for a while when she suddenly asked, "why didn't you find someone to entertain you for the night?" Dean shrugged even though she couldn't see him.

"Why would I need to find someone else when I could easily call my sweetheart." He replied with a smirk and she could hear it in his voice. This was something she hated about Dean. He constantly flirted with her and called her nicknames but never went further. She knew she had a small crush on him, who wouldn't. But he never showed any interest in her other than his incessant flirting. He hooked up with women left and right. He never even bothered to react when she was approached by guys or even if she left with one, once in a blue moon. She wasn't the type to sleep around but a girl has here needs, and finding a partner in this type of lifestyle can be a hassle. She knew Dean wouldn't turn her down if she made a move but she didn't want to be just another woman in Dean Winchester's bed so she never acted on her feelings. But his behaviour made it harder for her to keep her feelings at bay.

"I think you should've." She replied try to keep the bitterness out of her tone but it didn't go unnoticed by Dean.

"Why should I have?" He questioned curiously. He couldn't quite understand why she became so dismissive when the two were having a great conversation.

"I'm going to sleep, Dean. You should too." She faked a yawn and he could tell something was off. She was his best friend and he could tell she was hiding something. But at the same time he knew she wouldn't tell him no matter how hard he tried to get it out of her. That's just how she was. He let out a sigh and said goodbye hanging up. Dean wondered what made her cut the call short. He recalled the whole conversation hoping he could remember if he said something to upset her. But nothing came to mind. He let out another sigh before getting out the car and going back to his motel room.

Y/n dropped onto the mattress of the motel room she was staying at. She herself had finished a salt and burn two days ago in a town in Michigan, but she didn't leave because she liked this place. The motel room wasn't as bad as the others she'd been to and the people were nice. And there were no other hunts that she knew of. She didn't like the research work to find hunts so she mostly relied on Bobby to send cases her way. Or any other hunter who needed backup.

She laid on her back and stared up at the ceiling. She wasn't aware of the supernatural and she lived a normal life. John Winchester once saved her from a Wendigo in the woods and she'd been grateful to him. When she had another run in with a supernatural creature, a ghost in her apartment, she called John but he didn't answer and she found his son's number from his voicemail. And that's how she met Dean. He was a flirt, she gathered the minute he walked inside her apartment and confirmed it when she cheekily asked her if she wanted to thank him some other way. She remembered the way she rolled her eyes at him and told him off and how he chuckled, sending a wink her way, telling her to call him if she changed her mind. But she also remembers how she found him extremely attractive.

Knowing about the supernatural and running into trouble twice she decided to learn to defend herself. She called Dean and asked if he could teach her. Luckily for her, he agreed saying how he didn't have anything better to do since his brother went to college and his father left him on his own. She learnt stuff quickly and after a hunt with Dean, she knew she wanted to help save people for the rest of her life. He introduced her to Bobby and Sam, when he came back and the rest was history.

Her phone rang and she groaned not wanting to deal with anyone at the moment. Calls with Dean often mess with her and she had a hard time convincing herself that it's just how he is and it's nothing serious. She looked at the caller ID and furrowed her brows.

"Do you ever check the time before calling?." She spoke into her phone.

"Good morning your highness, my apologies. Did you have your tea yet?" Bobby sassed from the other side of the phone and she rolled her eyes.

"I drink coffee. Keep up old man." The man grunted in response and she chuckled. He told her he found a case and its a huge vampire nest, with probably fifteen vampires and they're causing trouble in Rockford, Illinois. "Are you really so tired of me that you're sending me there by myself?" She joked making Bobby roll his eyes to the back of his head.

"I've called Sam and Dean too. They'll meet you there." He replied. She affirmed that she heard him. Saying their goodbyes she hung the phone.

Just what I need.

She met up with the Winchesters the next day. Dean tried to get her to talk to him but she brushed him off, not bothering with him unless it was hunt related. Sam furrowed his brows at the interaction clearly baffled as she's never dismissed Dean before. The hunt went pretty well and Y/n finally let loose. She went to her friendly self as they hit the nearest bar for celebratory drinks. Her mood instantly dampened when a pretty brunette walked up to Dean and he flashed her his ever so charming smile. Y/n frowned as Dean let the woman whisk him away for the night. She'd expected him to stay but it was just wishful thinking. She knew he would never refuse a good time.

"Why don't you just tell him?" Sam quipped from beside her as she peeled at the label of her beer bottle, fingers picking at the edges absentmindedly. She sent him a glare but he didn't waver, and shot her a look.

"It's Dean. The chances of him cutting me off are far greater than him wanting anything real with me." She replied taking a swig of her drink.

"That's not..." Sam tried to defend his brother but then he stopped himself mid sentence. He knows Dean wouldn't want to risk getting close to anyone, even if it's Y/n.

Y/n patted Sam on his arm, reassuring him that she's fine and he doesn't have to make excuses for his brother. Surprisingly enough, Dean left the Impala to Sam so he left early and since she had her own car, she took her time going back. She arrived at the motel but she didn't want to go inside their room, not yet atleast. She noticed a swing set right outside the motel which was unlikely for places like these. She made her way to the swings and sat down on one. Self deprecating thoughts thoughts swarmed inside her head as she looked up at the sky.

It's her own fault she fell for the hunter anyways. She should've known she wasn't someone he'd want to be with. She's not the ideal woman one would want. At least not someone like Dean would want. She doesn't have the perfect curvy figure or any specific features that make her stand out. Her hair's unkept most of the time and she's got scars all over her body. She's not desirable.

She didn't know how much time had passed but she could see the darkness fade around her. The sun wasn't up yet it wasn't dark anymore. With a loud sigh she continued to stare ahead to figure out a way she could get out of this mess without a heartbreak. She heard the familiar thump of boots against the pavement and looked up to see Dean walking towards the motel. He had his jacket in his hand and he was whistling as he walked.

At least someone had a good night.

Dean noticed a figure perched on a swing and recognised the silhouette. With hurried steps he approached her and took a seat beside her on the swing. She turned to look at him and immediately regretted seeing the red and purple hickies that lingered on his neck.

"What're you doing out here?" Dean asked staring at her face.

"Just thinking. Did you have a good night?" Y/n replied, she wondered if she's some sort a masochist who finds pleasure in inflicting pain upon oneself.

"Yeah it was good. What're you thinking about?" Dean was curious, she'd been acting distant and he wanted to know why. She's even sitting out here in the early hours of the day when she should've been sleeping. "You're distant." He added like a child who lost his toy. He missed his best friend if he was being honest.

"Really Dean? I wasn't the who one left my friends for sex." She didn't intend to snap but his words struck a nerve and she felt the need to defend herself.

"You say as if you've never done that before!" Dean replied sharply. "Something is going on with you that you're clearly not telling me." He was getting frustrated with her behaviour and he needed to know.

"Well maybe I don't like watching you go off with women all the time." She answered harshly and he flinched at her tone. He could only managed to choke out a 'What?' not getting what she meant. She stared ahead keeping quiet.

"What's the supposed to mean?" Dean asked again.

"You're really gonna make me say it, won't you?" She scoffed and he shook his head in confusion. "I like you Dean, more than a friend." She said quietly, hoping he didn't hear her but the silence enveloping them made it left no doubt that he heard her loud and clear. She had prepared herself for his rejection but she didn't think his silence would hurt this bad.

"Y/n I, I've never-..." he stuttered not knowing how to get his point through without breaking her heart. "I've always thought of you as my best friend, is all." She looked down at her lap, nodding her head in understanding. There we no tears however her heart was being ripped apart inside.

"Why'd you always make me feel special? Constant flirt with me and gave me those nicknames. Why'd you act like you cared?" Dean rubbed a hand over his head. "Why'd you lead me on?" Her voice was small and accusing.

"It wasn't an act. I do care about you. I didn't mean to. I thought..." he trailed off not wanting to hurt her any more than he already did.

"I get it." She cleared her throat. What else was she supposed to say or do? Throw a fit? The option she had was to accept the fact that he wouldn't love her ever.

"I do love you, Y/n/n. Just not the way you-" He started but she interrupted him.

"I said I get it, Dean." She nodded again. "I think we should go inside." She said standing up from her place and heading towards the room. Sam was fast asleep when she entered the room. She sat on the pullout couch when Dean entered the room and settled on the other bed. They would usually share the bed since they'd been best friends for years but now it all seemed too awkward. Even being in the same room as him was suffocating her.

After hours of tossing and turning Dean finally slipped into a deep slumber and Y/n took it as a chance to grab her stuff and slip out of the room, and their lives. For good.

When Sam woke up he noticed Y/n was gone. Her was not in the parking lot and her bag was gone too. He shook his brother awake notifying him of her departure. Dean knew she would want to have some time apart but he didn't expect her to leave without as much as a goodbye.

"Why'd did she leave without saying goodbye?" Sam wondered out loud and Dean looked at his feet. He knew the reason she left, he was the reason she left. He shouldn't have been so careless with his gestures that gave her the wrong idea. Sam recognised the look on his brother's face as guilt. "What did you do?" He asked and Dean looked up.

"What makes you think I did something?" Dean felt offended at his brother's accusation.

"Because it's written all over your face so fucking spill." Sam glared at his brother folding his arms across his chest.

"I just told her the truth." Sam raised his brow, gesturing him to continue. "She told me she liked me and I told her I don't feel the same. It's not my fault she couldn't be an adult about it." Dean snapped, his anger flaring up as he felt unfairly portrayed as the villain.

"You told you her you don't reciprocate her feelings?" Sam asked incredulously. "Dean are you insanse why would you say that?"

"Because that's the truth!! I told her I loved her as a friend, not in the way she wants me to." Dean snapped back. Sam shook his head at his brother's stupidity. Sam knew deep down Dean loved Y/n more than anyone. She was his best friend but most of she was that one person had made a special place in his brother's heart.

Sam didn't say anything instead he went out to call Y/n. She didn't any of his calls and it went straight to voicemail. She didn't want to talk to anyone. All she wants is to deal with her heartbreak once and for all. And then she'll go back to her friends, to Dean. And they can pretend it never happened.

Four months passed without any contact with the boys and Y/n was nowhere near getting over Dean. She'd assumed hearing him reject her would get her the closure she needed to get over her crush it seemed to be more than a crush. Over the four months Sam continued to call her and leave messages for her and she would always just send him a little text telling him alive. Nothing other than that. He was atleast greatful that was alive.

Y/n had found a ghoul case in Ohio and as much as she hated those awful creatures she decided to go. The ghoul had been digging up graves to feed on the dead, so she made her way to the cemetery, a molotov cocktail and lighter safely tucked in her jacket and a machete in case something goes southways.

With a flashlight tightly gripped in her hand she entered the cemetery. It was late and she could she a silhouette a few feet away from where she stood. It was hunched over something and she could tell he was feeding off of a dead body. She grimaced as she neared the creature. The crunch of leaves beneath her boot resounded in the otherwise quiet cemetery making the ghoul turn to look at her. The ghoul hissed at her and jumped at her before she could react. With a swift motion she dodged it and moved aside kicking it away. The creature seem to grow angry and lurched towards her, it managed to hold her arm and bit her forearm. She screamed in agony as it’s sharp teeth dug into her flesh. She took a deep breath before she pushed at his chest, the ghoul taking it as an opening to dig its claw in the side and rip a patch of flesh from her body. Y/n headbutted it and the ghoul went barreling straight into a tombstone. She fell to the ground and quickly took out the Molotov cocktail and lit it up before throwing it at it, burning it alive.

Now that the ghoul was taken care of she moved backwards until her back hit one of the tombstones and cradled her side. She was bleeding profusely and she knew she couldn’t make it out of here on her own. She could call for help but she wasn’t sure who to call. She was too prideful to call the boys. She dug out her phone from her jacket and called Bobby. He grumbled as he answered the call.

“This better be good.” The old man said over the phone. Y/n let out a chuckle at his words.

“Heya Bobby. Ran into a bit of trouble.” She said sheepishly.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

“Ghoul ripped my side if that’s your definition of trouble. And he bit my arm.” She scoffed followed by a chuckled.

“Where are you damnit?”

“Ohio.” She breathed out feeling herself getting tired. Bobby cursed under his breath. Ohio was a good hundred miles away. It would take him hours to reach her.

"Ohio? Damn, y/n, that’s a long way. How you even end up all the way out there?" She didn’t answer, instead she coughed, spitting the blood beside her. Bobby sighed knowing he couldn’t get to her in time. “Hey keep talking. Describe your surroundings to me.” He put her on speaker as he called Sam from his other phone. He didn’t answer so he left him a voicemail.

“Its a dark cemetery, trees are pretty though.” He heard her voice becoming quiet. “Not bad for a last view huh?” She chuckled and Bobby took in a sharp breath. He really wanted to reprimand her not to say things like that but at this point he wasn’t even sure if she’d make it. “Hey, can I call you back?” She asked randomly. The old man frowned asking her why but she didn’t respond. Instead she hung up on him. With her vision blurred she managed to call Dean. The phone rang for a few seconds and to her surprise he answered.

“Y/n?”

“Dean.” She mumbled. “I didn’t wake you up did I?” breathing was shallow and irregular, each breath coming in ragged gasps as if the air itself was slipping away.

“Y/n? What’s wrong? You sound-” She interrupted him.

“You have pretty eyes. They’d make good for a last view.” She chuckled. Dean's heart skipped a beat at her words. There was something in your tone, something that made his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“What are you talking about? What do you mean, ‘last view’?" Dean clenched his jaw, a sense of dread building in his gut. Something was wrong, very wrong. He quickly woke Sam and filled him in on the situation.

“I’m sorry I walked out.” She coughed up more blood and sputtered, choking on it. “I’m sorry for ruining….our friendship.” Dean shook his head already making his way towards his car. Sam following behind.

“Where are you? What happened?” Dean was now getting anxious. She sounded so fragile, as if she was on the verge of her end. God—he didn’t even want to think about it.

“Ohio Cemetery, Ghoul.” She heard him open his car door and slamming it shut. “I just wanted to….. I love you Dean. Tell Sam I’m sorry.” She could feel her tears builidng up as hot white pain surged through her body.

“No…no no, don’t you dare die on me.” He growled stepping on the gas. “I’m coming to get you.” She smiled wistfully, knowing it’s futile. She’s not going to make it.

“Hey Dean.” Her breaths came in faint, uneven whispers, barely rising above the sound of the surrounding silence. “Do me a favour?” Tears sprung to Dean’s eyes and he nodded his head even though she couldn’t see him.

“Anything. Just please hold on. I’m on my way.” He begged, his heart felt like it was being crushed under a weight of helplessness.

“Lie to me.” She whispered and Dean’s foot stepped on the brakes making the Impala swerve a bit. Sam looked at his brother as the car came to a halt. “Lie to me once please.” Dean knew what she meant, he knew what she wanted him to say. But he couldn’t lie to her. Not when she’s taking her last breath. And because it wouldn’t be a lie.

“I can’t.” He whispered and she sucked in a sharp breath. “I can’t lie to you. But I can tell you I love you. It’s the truth.” Tears streamed down his face, mingling with the overwhelming sense of grief, sorrow and regret. “I love you so much it hurts.” He cried. Sam patted his brother on the back, unable to hold onto his own tears.

“You sound pretty convincing.” Y/n chuckled feeling the strength in her limbs drain with every passing moment, and her once-strong grip had become weak and feeble.

“It’s the truth, I just didn’t want you to be in danger because of me. I wanted to protect you. I pushed you away. When all I wanted was to hold you close to me. I do fucking love you.” Dean said angrily. Not angry at her but with himself for being a fool, for letting her go. For not being there to protect her.

“It’s okay.” She whispered. The atmosphere around her felt heavy and somber, marking the approach of an inevitable end. “I love you.” She felt the phone slip from her grasp as she took in her final breath. The phone fell to ground with a thud, and Dean panicked.

Dean’s desperate pleas through the phone fell into a haunting void, the line now carrying only the echoes of his sorrow. The sudden, silence left a heavy, unspoken grief that seemed to linger, a stark reminder of a love that was cut short by the cruel hand of fate.

“Y/n? Sweetheart? C’mon please talk to me.” He begged through the phone but all he got was silence from the other end. “Baby please.” Dean was overwhelmed by a crushing sense of guilt, his chest tightening with every recollection of what had transpired. He was the reason it ended like it, she left him twice, all because of his own cowardice. He was scared to love her and she left him forever. His every thought was consumed by the desire to undo the harm he believed he had caused. But it was too late now and he’s left behind to bare the consequences of his own actions.

Tags:

@spnfamily-j2 @galway-girlatwork @deangirl96 @queensilber

@s0urw00lf @monkey-d-hoshizora98 @deans-baby-momma @fullbelieverheart

@riah1606 @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @hobby27

@starkleila @suckitands33 @m3ntally-unstable @kanekilovelove-blog @candy-coated-misery0731

@blackcherrywhiskey @ladysparkles78 @goest-and-fuckest-thyself-blog @graywrites5567

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #sam and dean #spn fanfic #dean winchester angst #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader angst #jensen ackles #jensen ackles x you #jensen ackles characters #spn fanfiction #spn angst #nini writes

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were-all-idjits-here · 1 month ago

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TFW Realizing You're Not Doing Well/Falling into Burnout Headcanons

Gender neutral reader Warnings: reader is struggling with mental health/burnout, but nothing is described other than that. A/N: Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated. My masterlist can be found here. Enjoy!

Sam

Even though Sam isn’t as outspoken as his brother, he’s silently very attentive and protective of you. When you start acting off and have more low energy than you usually do at some times and are more explosive at others, he immediately takes notice.

He doesn’t want to intrude on your space if that’s what you need, but he won’t let you avoid everyone and try to muscle through it yourself out of fear of being a burden.

If you’re the type to throw yourself into hunting in an attempt to just have a one-track mind and numb everything else out, Sam does his best to intercept before you get to your boiling point.

He approaches you very gently, making sure you feel validated, understood, and appreciated and lets you know that, in his eyes, you’ve more than earned a break from everything. The hunting life is a lot and couple that with anything else you’ve got going on, it makes sense that it’s all overwhelming.

He suggests a trip, just you and him—or he’ll even help you plan and book and solo trip if you’d prefer—so you can decompress without worrying about anything.

Normally, the Winchesters don’t go for nicer hotels, but Sam insists you deserve to be pampered: free continental breakfast, a cleaning lady coming in daily, a laundry service—he’s even signed you up for this place’s special program that gets you discounts and extra perks (all under a fake name, of course).

At first, you’re worried about how the others will handle everything without you (or the two of you, if Sam goes with you), but Sam and the others assure you that they’re well-prepared, have plenty of other hunters on standby, and will call you if there’s a true emergency where they need your help.

Sam reassures you constantly that yes, this feeling will get better and to take as long of a break as you need. When you joke that you feel like you need a whole year at least, he says, “how about we start with a month?”

He’s of course also around to take care of anything that you don’t have the mental energy for right now—helping you make phone calls, talking to people, helping you make lists and plotting things out in order of importance when you’re overwhelmed, and is so ready to pamper you, it almost makes you happy cry.

When you come back from your trip, if you feel you need more decompression time, Sam is more than happy to let you just hang around Bobby’s house, the bunker, even hold the fort down in the motel room as you travel around with them and become the designated research person they call if you’re up for it.

He of course loves his research, so he’s searching up everything he can on burnout, mental health, what helps, hobbies that can relax you while also keeping your mind from drifting into dark thoughts, coping strategies, ways to best regulate with your mental illness or neurodivergence, etc. He doesn’t want to overwhelm you, so gently introduces these things one by one and will never shame you if his suggestion is something you’ve previously tried that didn’t work or just immediately puts a bad taste in your mouth.

Overall, he’s very vocal about being committed to doing whatever it takes to help you feel better and will always be there to remind you of things that have proven to help you, hand you medications or stim toys as needed, and help make sure you’re taken care of.

Dean

Although he’s a bit louder than his brother, Dean isn’t as in tune with or good at talking about emotions. But he can immediately clock that you’re not your usual self.

He hates when someone else tries to push him to talk before he’s ready, so takes a while to quietly observe from the background, doing little things here and there to make your life easier without saying anything.

You mentioned your side of the motel room is a mess and you’re dreading putting it back all nice and neat in your bag? Already done next time you step into the motel room—and your bag is even put back together the exact way you like it.

Need your comfort food? Oh, what a coincidence, Dean just happened to be heading towards a restaurant/shop/store that he knows has it and he’ll get a bunch for you.

Need a minute to just breathe mid-hunt? Well, he doesn’t know about you, but he’s really craving some caffeine and there was a nice, quiet coffee shop just down the street where you two can sit and look over the case details (of course, you don’t really look over anything once you’re there and he doesn’t push you to).

Eventually, the signs of you being constantly dysregulated and burned out are too much for even him to ignore. He’s a bit more blunt in his delivery than Sam, but echoes the same sentiments that you’ve had a lot to deal with recently and it’s understandable that you just need a break—from everyone and everything, and he has the perfect solution: a camping trip.

If you’ve never been camping, he’s happy to show you the ropes and insists that being surrounded by nature with no one around for miles will help reset anyone’s brain. Whether you go full-blown camper and stay in a tent or pick one of John or Bobby’s old hunting cabins for more amenities and plumbing is up to you. But you’re not gonna worry about a single thing the entire time: he’s got all planned out with Sam, Cas, and the other hunters in their inner circle where they’ll be okay without the two of you for a few weeks.

Although he’s not as verbally lovey and blurting as many verbal reassurances as his brother, you still find him doing things for you before you can even vocalize they need to be done, making you realize just how much he’s been paying attention to you, how you like things, what you have to do to feel comfortable, etc.

Whether it’s over an open campfire or a cabin cooktop, he’s also making you some of the best meals you’ve ever had, letting you suggest whatever you want. The menu is completely up to you.

He tries to stay upbeat for you and seems like he’s also excited to take a break too. Things like walking into the room, slapping and rubbing his hands together and saying, “so, what are we thinking for today?”

He also gets a little more touchy than usual during this time. I’m a big believe that Dean is a huge physical touch person and that’s his main form of communicating his love for you anyway: but now there are so many more massages, rubbing your arm, squeezing your hand, random kisses, and just doing whatever he can physically to make sure you’re good to go.

Similar to Sam, if you return from your trip and feel you still need some time, he’s happy to accommodate you in any way—no matter where you need to stay, how little you need to do, he’s got all of it handled.

He’s not the researcher his brother is, but we’ve seen him struggle before and I strongly feel he’s neurodivergent, so I feel he’d be really good at helping you navigate that and showing you things to calm you down based on his own experiences—especially if you’re the type that needs to just blow off some steam sometimes, like him. He’s more than happy to take you ax/knife throwing, spar with you, take you to the shooting range, etc.

He does throw in an occasional verbal “you’ve got this/you’re doing great,” but shows you much more with his actions—but makes sure his actions are still loud enough to translate loud and clear that you’re very, very loved.

Castiel

Depending on where Cas is in his journey, he’s still getting the hang of understanding humans, but he can clearly see you’re not acting like your usual self.

Being the blunt angel he is, he immediately starts asking you questions about it, trying to understand what’s going on and why. His delivery will be gentler the longer he’s a part of Team Free Will, but either way, you can tell he’s genuinely curious versus asking to try and shame you.

If explaining everything going on is too much for you to handle, Sam and Dean will gladly take over and explain human burnout/mental health issues to him.

Cas is at first very sad you’re having this experience and again, the brothers have to explain to him this isn’t something he can heal with his powers—which makes him even sadder and even more determined to help you.

He requests Sam’s help researching exactly how what you’re going through feels, what could help, and how to show someone you care. Sam gets him started, but he then continues researching on his own until he’s fairly certain he can at least empathize.

He may get it wrong a few times in the beginning, but always tries his best, bringing you little flowers and trinkets to brighten up your day at first before teaching himself some breathing techniques and coping strategies so he can then teach them to you.

If you need to go off somewhere, he of course offers to teleport you anywhere in the world you want to go. His suggestion is a remote Airbnb up in the mountains (he’s fascinated by how willing some of the bears are to get close to humans and even tries to have a conversation with one—then is scandalized when it tries to break into someone’s car to find food). Sometimes he disappears and reappears later with delicious takeout if you’re not up for cooking and is always ready and willing to help you with any chores that need to be done.

If you still need more time after your mountain trip, he’s constantly teleporting to visit you and always brings gifts with him. If stim toys help you, you suddenly have multiple boxes full of so many and have no idea where he got them all.

He eventually tries to clumsily confess to you that he just cares about you deeply and wants you to feel better and be happy again, and feels bad that he can’t just angel-power your pain away. He tells you how he thinks you’re an amazing, brilliant person that he feels so grateful to know and that you won’t always feel this way and deserve to feel better.

He’s a bit shy with physical touch, but will always reciprocate if you initiate.

He reiterates multiple times that he’s here for whatever you need. All you have to do is ask and he’ll be so happy to do/get it for you because to him, you’re his family.

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losers-clvb · 21 days ago

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i love you, i'm sorry // sam winchester

pairing: sam winchester x bobby's daughter!reader

summary: a teenaged sam left you broken. now he's back and you're not sure what to do.

content: angst, some swearing but it's not overdone, heartache, both reader and sam are in the wrong in a way (but mostly sam), reader is bobby's daughter, big brother figure dean winchester, reader has confusion over her feelings

word count: 4k

note: this was going to be one long fic, but i felt it would be better as two parts seeing how the total word count is nearing 11k. the second part will be out this week and will have smut. the title is from "i love you, i'm sorry" by gracie abrams, but no direct inspiration was taken from the song. i interchange the use of "your father" and "bobby" but keep in mind they are intended to be the same person. enjoy!

masterlist part two

----

It had been years since the Winchester boys had come to stay with the Singers. Life, or hunting more like, had gotten in the way. They knew they had somewhere to come home to, or at least that was what you and Bobby had hoped. Bobby was your father, and you his little girl, no matter how old you got. He hadn’t wanted to be a father growing up, but once he held you in his arms, he knew you had him wrapped around your finger. It had been only months after you were born that your mother died, killed by your father in a desperate attempt to keep you safe. He had begun a life of hunting after that. He knew he needed to find some way for all of this pain to make sense. Somewhere along the way, he had met John and, in turn, Sam and Dean.

You had been sandwiched in between the boys for what seemed like all your life. They were your honorary family, though your relationship with Sam had blossomed into something more. It had been your sixteenth birthday - Sam was 17 - when he had gotten you alone to give you your gift. It was small, just a necklace that he had found at a convenience store on the way to Bobby’s, but you still wore it everyday. Your response to this gift was, naturally, to kiss him. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t thought of doing it before, you just never had the chance to. His response was, naturally, to kiss you back like you were his lifeline.

A whirlwind romance, hidden from your father and Dean, ensued until he had run away to college. Somehow him leaving had meant leaving everything, even you, behind. You had cared, of course, but you couldn’t tell anyone. You cried every night for days. Bobby had noticed something was off. He always noticed when his girl wasn’t herself. He tried to cheer you up with those dad jokes he had been using on you since you were born. He tried chocolates and flowers and every little trinket he saw that reminded him of you. Nothing worked. You had pulled yourself out of the spell of heartbreak at some point. You knew it was silly to cry over a boy. Even if that boy was the love of your life.

Life had been normal for a while. John and Dean would visit once in a while for dinner or lunch. Your heart leaped every time the door opened, hoping Sam would come through it. He never did. You helped Bobby research and sorted papers. You cooked meals and baked desserts, humming while you did so, which pulled at Bobby’s heartstrings in a bittersweet kind of way. You were starting to consider looking for someone else to spend the rest of your life with, someone who could make you feel even half of what you felt for Sam.

Then he appeared in your life again. There he was, standing in the entryway of your house with a shaggy haircut and those puppy dog eyes that hadn’t changed in the five years since you had last seen him.

You knew he had begun hunting again. How could you not? Dean called what seemed like every day to ask for help with a case. You had been happy to help like always until you caught the low sound of a second male voice in the background. You promptly hung the phone up. From that day forward, you waited until your dad confirmed that it was anyone but the Winchester boys calling. Both Bobby and Dean had questioned you, but you knew better than to tell them the true reason for it. You just hoped you would never have to face Sam again.

But here he was. Your hands, holding a stack of books you were returning to their correct home, trembled when he said your name. You could feel tingling in your fingertips, a sure sign you were about to cry. Neither of you moved, as if your feet were cemented to the floor. You both stared at each other, eyes locked and waiting for the other to make the first move.

“Sam, get in here.” The sound of your dad’s voice from his study cured you of your paralysis. Before Sam could get another word in, you dashed to your room. The slam of the door was heard through the house, startling Dean and Bobby.

“What the hell was that?” Dean barked out. When Sam had responded with your name, the looks of confusion on the two men in front of him deepened.

“Why?” Bobby asked, eyeing Sam like he had done something to you. And he had. It just wasn’t something that he had done recently.

“I don’t know.” Sam breathed out. He knew. Of course he knew. How could he not, when for the first two years of college he had spent every night wanting to call you and apologize. He knew he hurt you. He knew he was still in love with you, just as he had been many years before. He also knew that some part of you still loved him. The necklace. The glinting metal was the first thing his eyes caught when he had entered the house. You still wore the necklace he had given you. The sight of it made his heart reach for you.

----

You hadn’t made an appearance for lunch or dinner. You had locked yourself up in your room, only letting your dad inside when he had knocked softly. You made up something about feeling sick. He hadn’t believed you, but knew if you needed something you would go to him. He left your room after giving you a kiss on the forehead.

That had been hours ago. The moonlight shone through your window while you listened with attentive ears to try to decide if it was safe to venture downstairs for some food. The three men had called it a night around 45 minutes ago, and you hoped they were fast sleepers.

Five minutes of pure silence passed before you dared to try to leave. You had changed into your pajamas, a light purple tank top and matching shorts, and your socked feet were quiet on the hardwood flooring. You tiptoed down the stairs, gripping onto the railing.

Once making a sandwich, you took the food to the table to eat. You were quiet with your chewing, stopping occasionally when you heard the noises of the house settling. You were alone, yes, but you needed the time. Your eyes drooped low as you ate, fighting the sleep your brain needed after the emotional day. You had finished eating when you told yourself you could just close your eyes for a few seconds before getting up.

----

Sam had decided, after hours of tossing and turning in an attempt to sleep, that he had to see you. He had to apologize, had to make things right. He had crept up to your door, knocking in the chance that you were awake at that time of night. When you hadn’t answered, he had poked his head inside. He just needed to know you were there, but your empty bed made him stop. You were gone. Not in your room, which meant either you had fallen asleep elsewhere or something had taken you. He hoped for the former, though there was a small chance of the latter. A quick search had led him to the kitchen where you were slumped on the table, eyes closed and breath steady. There you were. The sight pulled a somber sigh from Sam. An image of you from earlier flashed across his mind. Your panicked expression, trembling hands, and wide eyes. You had obviously not been expecting to see him, though he had thought that Bobby would have told you before his arrival.

Sam walked to you, careful to make sure his footsteps were as quiet as possible. He didn’t want to leave you sleeping on the table. It wasn’t right and he knew that you would have regretted it in the morning. So, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to your room. You seemed to curl into him in your sleep, much like you had all those years ago when he would sneak to your room at night.

The weightlessness of being carried woke you. At first, you believed you were dreaming. Then, the scent of coffee and cedar brought your eyes open. Sam. Sam Winchester was carrying you up the stairs and into your room. Your heartbeat quickened, panicking. What would you say to him? Thank you? Go away? What would he say to you? It was when Sam readjusted his hold on you that you had decided to just pretend you were still sleeping. He was the same as you remembered. The smell, the warmth, the careful but secure hold. All of it was the same.

You felt yourself being lowered onto what you presumed to be your bed. It was the same full sized bed you had since you were a kid. You knew your bed. The chill of night air was swept away by the weight of your blankets. Sam was tucking you in. He was taking the time and effort to tuck you into your bed. You felt a calloused hand brushed hair away from your forehead.

“I’m sorry.”

The words made your heart ache. You felt the honesty in them. It didn’t make what he did any less painful, but it made you remember why you had decided to internally forgive him only a year after he had left. His hand lingered on the side of your head for a few moments before he left you to sleep.

----

The morning came and you woke to the sound of birds chirping. Though you couldn't have gotten more than a few hours of sleep all together, you pulled yourself out of bed to make breakfast for the house. If you didn't do it, Bobby would and it would end up being overcooked scrambled eggs with slightly burnt toast. As you went about getting yourself ready for the day, you couldn't help but think of the last night. Sam, he smelled the same, held the same warmth. Even the way he handled you, like you were his everything, was the same.

The house was quiet. Too quiet. Usually, your dad would be awake and brewing a pot of coffee by this time. Though, he also put himself to bed earlier than he had the night before, so that could account for his absence. You figured someone would have been up by now. Preferably Dean to make your new found mission of ignoring Sam’s presence easier. You had decided this while brushing your teeth. You couldn’t hide away forever. You also couldn’t talk to him without choking on your own words. This was the better option.

While you began the simple breakfast of pancakes and bacon, you hummed to yourself. It was a habit you seemed to have picked up sometime in your teen years. The first few times you had caught your dad watching you with sad eyes, he had refused to tell you why he was so affected by the sound. You pestered him for months, yet the truth only came to light when a long time friend of his had come to visit. He had been sitting at the table while reading a newspaper when the words slipped out.

“You sound just like your mama.” The sentence made you stop in your tracks. The topic of your mother rarely came up between you and Bobby. You knew only the few stories he had let slip through on special occasions and the scraps of memories you could pull from his old friends. You had never told your father about the new information. Instead, you opted to continue on, knowing that the grief he felt initially was outweighed by the love for you having something in common with the mother you had never known.

The sound of footsteps pushed you back into reality. You kept your attention on the food you were making, assuming it would be Bobby finally making an appearance. That was until a figure in a worn down long sleeve and jeans slid into your line of sight. Sam. You tensed up yet continued your cooking. You could feel his eyes on you, flickering between your hands and your face. You both stayed like that for what felt like forever. No words, just Sam watching as you tried not to look at him.

That was until he said your name. He was trying to get you to look at him, to acknowledge he was there. You refused to give in. He didn't deserve your time. You hated him. Well, you didn't actually hate him, though you were sure you should. If you told yourself that you hated him enough times, maybe it would make that love for him go away. He said your name again, this time a bit louder with more effort.

“Please. Just look at me.” Sam was practically begging now. You flexed your jaw as you piled the last pancakes onto the large stack. You scooped up the plates of pancakes and bacon, delivering them to the middle of the dining table. Sam followed you around like a lost puppy, huffing out an irritated breath when you continued to ignore him. He just wanted you to turn your attention to him. He needed to say that he was sorry, needed to explain everything, and he needed to do it while he could get you alone. You just wouldn’t listen. He knew it was you trying to keep your pride, but it didn’t stop the instant frustration from bubbling up.

“I need to explain why I,” he breathed out, “why I did what I did.” Sam’s words were met with a scoff from you. You had moved past sad long ago and the panic you felt last night was simply because you felt like you were being cornered. Now you were angry. You pushed past Sam and grabbed a stack of plates and forks. The coffee you had started in the middle of your cooking had finally finished. You grabbed a mug and moved towards the pot, but Sam beat you to it. He made up a cup of coffee, two sugars and a splash of milk, before offering it to you. Of course he would remember how you liked your coffee. You stared at the cup for a moment before declining the peace offering by pouring coffee in the mug you held. You made it the same, but hoped the message got through to him: you were not interested in being friends.

“Seriously?” Sam asked incredulously. He was about to continue ranting when he heard a whistling growing closer. Bobby entered the kitchen with a smile, oblivious to what he had walked into.

“Morning.” Bobby greeted the two of you. He sat himself at the table, his usual spot that was worn down from years of occupancy. You followed his lead and sat in the chair next to him with a warm smile. Sam, obviously still upset from his failed attempt to speak to you, hadn’t moved from his spot at the counter. Dean, who had been like a bloodhound when he caught a scent of the food, entered the room cheerily. He poured his own coffee before sitting in the chair on your other side.

“Sammy, stop pouting and sit.” Dean ordered while piling pancakes and bacon onto his plate.

“Bring that pot over with ya.” Bobby added. Sam sighed as he did as he was told, grabbing a mug for Bobby on the way over. He took the last chair available. Unfortunately for you it was the one opposite from you. This meant a meal of avoiding catching his eyes with yours while Bobby and Dean spoke of their plans for the day.

----

You should probably apologize to the officer on the other end of the phone. She had called, courtesy of some hunter who needed the assistance, to verify that the FBI had actually been sent to investigate a crime. They hadn’t, of course, but the fact that it was a possible werewolf had led to a hunter being sent. When she questioned your authority, which you had none of but that wasn’t for her to know, you took out your pent up aggravation from Sam on her.

After the line clicked, signaling the end of the call, you swallowed harshly. It wasn’t fair. Why was Sam allowed to waltz back into your life right when you were beginning to move on? Why was he allowed to come and go as he pleased, yet you couldn’t stand to look him in the eyes? You let yourself sink into the office chair that was near the phones.

“What was all that about, sweetheart?” Dean. Of course he would come sniffing around for something to talk about. Your father and Sam had gone into town for something you failed to remember now. You looked up at him and narrowed your eyes at him.

“It was nothing.” You replied, not wanting to get into it all with him. Like your father, he didn’t know about you and Sam’s love affair. Or maybe he did. You couldn’t keep track of what Sam may or may not have said to him, but you knew that you had been silent about the whole thing. It was easier that way, not having to explain exactly what you were feeling.

“Is this about Sam?” Dean continued to push you. The words threw you off. You furrowed your eyebrows.

“What? He told you?” You weren’t angry about it. Well, maybe a little, but that had more to do with the fact that the relationship had been important enough to tell his brother about yet not important enough to keep alive. The spark in Dean’s eyes when you spoke told you that Sam had, in fact, not told him, but you just did. You looked away with burning cheeks.

“What’d he do? Try to get in your pants? Beat up your boyfriend?” Dean was teasing you now. He wanted the details. Despite what he may argue if ever asked, Dean Winchester was one of the biggest gossips you knew.

“No.” Your voice told Dean that you were angry about whatever it was, and you were on the verge of ranting about it.

“C’mon, sweetie, just tell big brother.” The words made you shoot him an annoyed but playful glare. There were many times growing up when Dean had played the big brother you never had. Somehow, you had never picked up on the bond with Sam. Now you kind of wished you had. It would have been much easier than this mess. You took in a breath before speaking.

“He left me.” You told the green eyed man. It was Dean’s turn to scrunch his eyebrows together in question.

“Yeah, join the club. What about it?”

“He kissed me. He called me every night when he wasn’t here. He made me laugh and blush and talked about a future. He told me he loved me. Then he left and I hadn’t heard his voice since.” Your words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. You watched as Dean’s expression softened.

“Oh.” It was rare for Dean to be speechless but he didn’t know what else to say. He had picked up on something between the two of you when you were teens, but he figured it was just some good old fashioned mutual pining. He couldn’t have imagined Sam would be able to keep something like this from him.

You stood from the chair, certain that you could take a break from watching the phones that rarely rang. Dean stepped into the doorway to stop you from completely leaving the room.

“Listen, you can’t cry over him anymore. He’s not worth it.” Dean spoke, trying his best to console you. You were past that. You didn’t need comfort, you needed anger management.

“I hate him.” You looked into Dean’s eyes and he could see the defiant fire burning in them. He sighed and nodded.

“That works too, I guess.”

----

It was getting harder to ignore Sam. Not because you were tempted to have a conversation with him. You wanted to scream at him if anything. No, it was because your dad was too oblivious to the obvious discomfort between you two and kept assigning tasks for you and Sam to complete. Dean tried his best to replace you when this happened, but eventually Bobby gave him his own chores to complete.

You bounded out the door to your car. Sam followed you, grumbling to himself when you threw the door back into him. You waited for him to climb into the car with a blank expression on your face. The run to the store would hopefully be a quick one with no conversation. The silent drive lasted all of three minutes.

“Are you going to ignore me forever?” Sam asked, a mix of desperation and frustration in his voice. You kept your eyes on the road. The store was coming up soon. You just had to hold out until then.

“It’s my fault. Everything. All of it. Please… just… hear me out.” Apparently Sam no longer needed your direct attention to begin his apologizing. Your grip on the steering wheel tightened, but you still didn’t speak.

“It’s not an excuse, but,” Sam breathed in as if he was weighing the next words in his mind.

“I was going through a lot.” You were parking when you heard him. Thank God you were, because your immediate reaction was to turn your whole body to him. His eyes widened at the fury in your eyes.

“What about me? I was seventeen, dealing with stupid high schoolers and cranky hunters. All I looked forward to was you! I loved you and you decided I wasn’t even worth a call? Bullshit. All of it.” Maybe you were being mean. You knew what John Winchester was like. You had overheard enough phone calls between him and Bobby, had heard some stories from Sam and Dean. You understood his running from his father, but Sam could have at least called once. Or wrote a letter. Or sent a postcard. Anything but leave you in the dark.

Your words made his heart ache. He hated himself for never calling you. Hated himself for hurting you. For anything he had ever done to make you think he felt anything less than love towards you. He had no excuse for why he had done what he had done. His only line of defense against your anger was to respond to it with his own.

“And I was eighteen and running from a life of killing! I hated hunting. I hated my father. You know that! I never called because I needed to completely cut myself off from this world. I needed a normal life.” Sam wasn’t being completely fair. He knew that. His response was a weak attempt at trying to diminish the guilt he felt. Yes, he wanted a normal life. But look how that worked out. All that pain he had caused just to come back to what he was running from. You shook your head and opened your door.

“Fuck you Sam.” The anger seethed through you as you climbed out and made for the entrance of the grocery store. You had missed the way Sam’s own anger had broken with your final words. You had missed the way he physically shrank down. You had missed the way he followed you as he had earlier, but this time with less motivation. He wanted you to come back to him. He had never seen you so angry before. He missed the girl who would place light kisses on the tip of his nose, the one who would let him hold her all night long.

#x reader #sam winchester #spn #dean winchester #supernatural x reader #sam winchester fic #sam winchester x reader #supernatural #sam winchester smut #sam winchester x reader angst #sam winchester x reader smut #sam winchester x bobby's daughter!reader

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morganwrites12672 · 4 months ago

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2003 - Twenty-One Years Old

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean shows up at your doorstep after Sam leaves for Stanford. His emotions are at an all time high, this leads to a confession.

Word Count: 2.0k+

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Enjoy! Here's the link to the rest of the series: 𝕆𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕐𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤.

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Her life had changed after that day.

She had deleted Dean's phone number. Everytime John Winchester stopped by her father's house she found a way to be gone. Whether it was doing a grocery run even though she'd went the previous night or faking a cold. She couldn't bear to see Dean again.

The thought of him still made her chest ache. She had left that motel with tears in her eyes and never looked back. It had broken her heart to leave like that. It'd left a hole in her chest that she couldn't fill with anything, no matter how much she tried. It might have been three years but the pain was still raw every time she thought of him.

It was impossible for it to not hurt. Dean had been her first love. Well, that and her first heart break. She didn't live remembering how everything had went down in the end. Being special to someone had seemed like such a good thing. Until she discovered that she hadn't been as special as she had thought to Dean. He might not have actually cheated on her, but knowing that his eyes went to every other girl still hurt.

A lot had changed since then. She was older and wiser. She had grown up a lot from the socially awkward mess she had been whenever she had been with Dean. Growing up so isolated from healthy friendships where people knew her real name had definitely stunted her emotional growth. Not anymore. She'd done some growing up since she's turned eighteen. She'd had three years of freedom as a legal adult.

She might still live with her father but she didn't stay home all of the time. Hell, she even worked cases on her own sometimes. Sweet, sweet freedom. It felt great. She wasn't just some little kid anymore, no. She was a hunter. Saving people and hunting the things that go bump in the night felt good.

A knock on the front door jolted her out of her thoughts. Her father wouldn't be back from his hunt for a few more days, he'd called her to tell her that this morning. She couldn't think of anyone who would show up without an explanation, not this late. Gladys would have fallen asleep hours ago.

She peeked through the window and her heart caught in her throat. She could see the all too familiar Impala parked in the driveway. Pulling the door open she was greeted with the sight of someone who was all too familiar to her. What was Dean doing here? And why so late? Those questions and many more raced through her head.

"Dean?" She said, her voice barely above a whisper.

She took in how he looked now... damn good, like always. It was startling to notice the dried up tear tracks that currently stained his cheeks. She knew that she should say something, start the conversation. Maybe even ask if he was okay. And yet, she couldn't. Any other words that she might have said got stuck in her throat.

Dean looked at her, he was staring really. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She looked just as perfect as she had the day that she'd left after that stupid argument. Dean had many regrets about letting her leave. But, he had been young and stupid. It had been three years. He had grown up a little bit since then.

"S-sammy left." His voice was hoarse, she could hear the strain in it as Dean tried to keep so many of the emotions he felt inside.

His words made her eyebrows furrow. She had many questions. They would all be able to wait a little bit though. She assumed that the younger Winchester brother had gotten tired of dealing with his father's shitty attitude and left. Not that she blamed him, not in the slightest.

She has gotten lucky with how kind her father had been growing up. Bobby had raised her well and had done the best he could. She still chose to stay there whenever she wasn't out hunting. He had never done anything serious that warranted her being upset enough to leave.

"Come inside," She said, stepping away so that Dean could walk inside.

She didn't have to worry about having to explain any of this to her father. Bobby wouldn't be home for a few more days. His hunt was at a convenient time. So was her week off. Any other week and the chance of it only being her father up at the house would have been fairly high. As he aged the older man went out on hunts less and less. She had began taking up more of them. Bobby was getting too old to spend all of his time out ganking monsters.

Dean silently walked into the house. He had been here recently. Whenever she wasn't home he stopped by to see Bobby. The older man was almost like a father to him. Actually, there was no almost to it. Bobby had been more of a father to him than his own father had been. John hadn't been the greatest guy. Not by a longshot.

"Thanks," Dean said, clearing his throat.

"Do you want a beer? Or something stronger?" She asked as she shut the front door. She had a feeling that Dean would opt for the second option. He looked like he could use a glass of whiskey right now.

"Something stronger," He replied quickly. "If you don't mind," He added after a second.

She nodded, disappearing from Dean's view as she walked into the kitchen. He had missed everything about her. The way she smiled, the sound of her voice after a long day, everything. Dean had loved her. Since he'd lost her he had tried filling the gaping hole in his chest with countless other woman. It hadn't worked, not even close. Sometimes he would be able to forget her in a night. Every morning after he remembered her though. It was impossible to get her out of his head.

In the kitchen she poured Dean a glass of whiskey and grabbed a beer for herself. She was not willing to be drinking something so strong right now. She planned on being as sober as possible tonight. She needed to remember as much of it as she could clearly. It wasn't often that she saw Dean. And, she wasn't sure how tonight was going to go.

Walking into the living room, she spotted Dean. He was lounging on the love seat, leg anxiously bouncing. It wouldn't have taken a psychologist to realize how upset he was over Sam leaving. She still had so many questions for her ex-lover. Something big must have happened whenever Sam left. Why else would Dean be a goddamn mess?

"Why'd he leave?" She asked softly, her voice smooth like marble as she spoke in that honey sweet tone of hers. She set the whiskey down in front of Dean, on the coffee table. She then sat down next to him.

The sound of her voice had Dean already feeling an ache in his chest. He missed her more than he would ever admit, to anyone. The thought of having a chance with her again was the only thing preventing him from crying anymore. He'd done enough of that on the drive over here. Now, he would handle things. Well, he would tell her about things. He wasn't in the mood to deal with his own emotions about the matter.

Dean picked up the glass of whiskey and downed half of it in one gulp. The amber liquid burned his throat as he swallowed. He welcomed the feeling with open arms. He needed something to help drown out his misery. He didn't think that he would be able to explain everything completely sober.

"He got into Stanford." Saying the words out loud made it feel even worse. "Dad was pissed. I've never seen him this mad."

She placed a hand on his knee. His words made her feel horrible. She knew all about how bad John's temper could be on what was considered a good day. Just imaging how horrible he must have treated his sons during that argument made her feel sick. She wanted nothing more than to wrap Dean up in her arms and tell him that everything would be okay. But, she couldn't. He wasn't hers anymore.

"You can stay here for the night," She said, unsure of what else to say. She couldn't say anything that would make this feel better. She could only try and help ease the pain Dean was in over all of this.

She scooted over on the couch, her thigh brushing up against Dean's. He melted into her touch as she pulled him into a hug. His head rested on the expanse of soft skin between her neck and shoulder. He could finally relax. He sighed, feeling the stress and emotional turmoil melt away in her arms.

For a minute he could pretend that everything was okay. For a minute, he believed that. He didn't have to think about everything that John had screamed as Sam had told his father about leaving for Stanford. He didn't have to think about his father or Sam at all. He could just be with her, and enjoy the comfort.

"You're going to be okay," She murmured, running her fingers through his short hair.

"Thank you," Dean whispered, his voice thick with unsaid words.

"You don't need to thank me," She replied.

Dean sniffled, clearing his throat. He sat up, trying to find the words to say. It had always been easy for him to speak with her in the last. The words had seemed to flow naturally, there was no walking on eggshells around her. She understood him and had loved him for who he was, flaws and all.

"No, not just for this. For everything," He said in a quiet voice. He missed her. Even if he didn't expect anything from her, he needed her to know. He needed her to know that she hadn't just been some fling to him. She had been his everything for a long while. She still was.

Her mouth went dry. Any words that she might have said caught in her throat. She hadn't been expecting the night to end this way. Whenever she woke up this morning she never in a million years would have predicted that this would happen, hell, she wouldn't have even thought that dean would show up let alone say something like that.

She wasn't the next one who spoke, Dean was.

"I've missed you. I-I know I screwed up."

His words shocked her even more. She might still love him, might, but that didn't mean that she could handle a relationship with him again. Well, it's not like she has a list of guys who she would rather be with. If she was being honest with herself then there was only one guy she could see herself with, and that guy was sitting across from her and asking for a second chance.

Dozens of replies went through her head. Not being able to find the words to speak made her use actions instead. She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his.

Dean went still for a single second before reacting. One of his hands went to her waist as the other one could her jaw. He deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding past her lips. Words couldn't describe the amount of emotion and heart ache that they both poured into the kiss.

The only thing that seemed to exist right now to them was each other. One of her hands slid around Dean's shoulders, wrapping herself around him. She sighed into the kiss as Dean lightly nipped at her lip. She pulled away for a quick breath, gazing into his eyes. Being without him had been hell. She needed him as much as she needed oxygen.

"I missed you too."

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A/N: I think this is the last part for a little bit! Don't forget to reblog or comment if you enjoyed it!

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allmoshnobrain · 5 months ago

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kinktober 2024 masterlist | day two

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

dean winchester x reader | gun play

✦ on this fic: NSFW!!!, +18, mxf sex, gun play, early seasons dean

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

You wanted to become a hunter. You really did.

It was hard not to want it, not after some freak disease tore through your town, turning your family and friends into monsters, leaving you the only one standing. Not after everything you knew in your life just crumbled, replaced by fear, anger and hatred — the need to get revenge, to make whoever caused all this hurt pay, or at least stop them from existing in the most painful way possible.

You wanted to become a hunter.

But damn, it was harder than you ever thought it’d be.

Putting all the emotional stuff aside, trying to get fit and strong wasn’t exactly on your radar back then. But when life flips on you, you’ve got to roll with it. Different situations, different game plans. You’d do whatever it took to get strong enough to take down as many monsters as possible, as fast as you could.

The Winchesters had your back from the moment they met you. After pulling you out of the mess you’d been through, they took you to Bobby’s place while you tried to piece your life back together. When you told them you wanted to be a hunter, Sam was the first to try and talk you out of it. But Dean — Dean got it. He knew exactly what that fire burning in your chest felt like. He knew there was no way you’d walk away from chasing your revenge.

And that’s how Dean ended up teaching you the basics. While Sam and Bobby were out of town chasing a lead on a new case, you and Dean spent whatever time you could practicing — shooting, self-defense, throwing punches, sure, but also learning about the different creatures out there, their weak spots, and how to take them down.

You were great at the book stuff. The physical part? Not so much.

“You still got a lot to learn,” Dean said, and you could hear the frustration in his voice. He’d been trying to teach you some self-defense skills for the past hour, but you hadn’t really made much progress. “You can’t go hunting if you can’t even defend yourself.”

“I’m trying,” you shot back, frowning, feeling just as frustrated. “I’m not you, okay? I haven’t been doing this my whole life!”

“I know, I know,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair, giving you a look like he was trying to figure you out. “Maybe we should just take a break. You’ll probably do better tomorrow,” he suggested, though even he didn’t sound convinced.

You ended up going back upstairs to the guest room you were crashing in, grabbing some clothes, and heading to the bathroom. Maybe a warm bath would help loosen up your sore muscles from all the intense training you’d been doing for the past few weeks.

You knew Dean was probably waiting for you to come back down eventually to study more about the creatures you’d be up against — or, realistically, he’d spend hours bragging about his past hunts as a way to teach you the ropes — but you just weren’t feeling it. The frustration from your slow progress was really starting to get to you. You wondered if he’d even bother to come looking for you if you stayed in your room until morning.

Unfortunately, you got your answer pretty quick — right after you got back from your shower, hair still damp, muscles still kinda sore. The second you opened the door to your room, someone grabbed your wrist, their grip way stronger than yours. You yelped, heart pounding with shock and fear, and you were just about to yell for Dean, thinking something broke into the house, when you felt the cold barrel of a gun press into your back.

“Surprise, honey,” Dean said, and you struggled in his grip, trying to shake loose from his hold on your wrist.

“Dean, what the hell?” you yelled, and he grunted when you tried to stomp on his foot, just pulling you in closer, his chest pressed against your back while his gun dug into your lower back.

“Gonna have to do better than that, sweetheart. Come on, you got this,” he mumbled, his breath warm against your neck. You took your shot and elbowed him in the stomach. He let out a low grunt, his grip on your wrist loosening just enough for you to break free. You turned to face him, breathing hard, your face burning with anger.

“What the fuck, Dean?” you snapped. He had the nerve to smile, like scaring you half to death was just some kind of joke. You glanced at the gun in his hands and then back at his face, your frown deepening. “Is that shit loaded?”

“Of course it isn’t loaded,” he said, digging into his pocket and pulling out the bullet cartridge to prove it. You huffed, shooting him a death glare for that stupid grin. “Come on, sweets. I just wanted to see how you’d handle some pressure. Gotta say, it was way more entertaining than our regular training.”

“That’s not funny, Dean,” you shot back, and he just laughed.

“Funny or not, you still got me to let you go, didn’t you?” He grinned, and you rolled your eyes, feeling some of your anger slip away, but not all of it. Your heart skipped a beat when he stepped in closer, using the gun to lift your chin. “You think too much. You gotta go with your gut a bit more.”

You looked up at him, your breath hitching and your cheeks warming, not missing that little smirk on his lips as he stared down at you, tension bubbling in your stomach like a wave. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear:

“You’re not gonna make it as a hunter if you freeze up like prey every time you see a gun, honey.”

You grunted, trying to snatch the gun from him in one quick move, but he was quicker. He grabbed your shoulder and shoved you against the wall, putting his knee between your legs and trapping you with his body.

“You scared of this?” he asked, glancing at the gun in his hand. You didn’t reply, just shot him a glare filled with anger. He scoffed. “What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?”

“Thought you were having enough fun yapping away by yourself,” you muttered. “Can you let me go? Please?”

He chuckled softly but finally pulled back. You let out a sigh, rubbing your wrist where he had grabbed you. It was a bit sore, and oh, how you wished you could make him pay for it.

“You're such a jerk,” you growled, and he raised an eyebrow. Oh, you caught on. He's getting annoyed.

“I was just trying to help you, dumbass,” he said, pressing the cold metal of the gun against your cheek. “That pretty face of yours isn’t gonna get you far when you’re up against someone with a gun.”

“I thought we were killing monsters,” you shot back, and he rolled his eyes.

“Don’t play dumb. Some monsters know how to use guns if they have to,” he said, his gun sliding from your cheek down to your neck, then your collarbone. You let out a shaky breath when it traced the edge of your shirt, pulling it down a bit. You felt your cheeks heat up, your nipples stiff against the fabric of your shirt, a reminder that you weren’t wearing a bra. “You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and I might just think you’re into this.”

“Cut it out, Dean,” you breathed, your face going red. He laughed softly, stepping closer.

“You know, maybe I deserve a little reward for being such a great teacher, don’t you think?” he whispered, slowly. “How about you take your shirt off for me?”

“Oh, so you have to hold people at gunpoint to get them to strip for you?” you shot back, a sharp smirk on your lips.

“Fuck off,” he grunted, and then his mouth was on yours, lips rough and demanding as his tongue tasted your mouth. You grabbed the front of his shirt, a mix of annoyance and desire washing over you as he pressed his body into yours. “Wait, let me just stash this,” he said, looking for a place to put his gun, but you grabbed his wrist.

“Don’t,” you whispered, your face heating up. He blinked, eyebrows shooting up as he pulled back a bit.

“Oh, so you’re a little freaky, huh?” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

“Shut up,” you growled before pulling him in for another kiss. He grunted against your lips, his free hand tugging off your shirt. You yelped when he spun you around, shoving you toward the bed like it was no big deal. No wonder you were struggling with self-defense against someone this strong.

“Maybe you’re finding our training tough 'cause you kinda like being held like this, huh?” Dean grunted, his voice low as he bent you over the bed, your cheek pressing into the mattress. “Wrists,” he ordered, and you quickly put your hands behind your back. He chuckled, clearly surprised at how obedient you were, his big hand locking onto both your wrists with a solid grip.

You bit your lip as he set the gun down on the bed right in front of you, then used his free hand to slide your pants and panties down to your ankles. You shivered, a soft sigh escaping your lips as his fingertips circled your wetness. He let out a low hum and pushed a couple of fingers inside slowly.

“Dean,” you gasped. He grabbed his gun again, the cold metal gliding along your spine.

“Be good now,” he whispered, and you let out a whimper as he pressed the flat top of the barrel against your pussy, rubbing the cold steel against your clit. “Maybe that’s exactly what you need, huh? Just a little release? I can help with that.”

“Please,” you moaned, closing your eyes, and he chuckled softly, pushing his gun harder against your wetness. You gasped as tension started to build in your belly, your legs shaking a bit. “Dean, I—”

“Shush, honey,” he whispered, moving the gun gently. “Just let go, beautiful.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you whined, and he laughed. You moved your hips in slow circles, chasing that friction as tears threatened to spill, trying to catch your breath while Dean's teasing motions tightened the knot in your belly.

“You’re gonna cum all over my gun, huh?” he murmured, absentmindedly. You choked out a moan in reply, and he laughed. “Wow, you’re a fucked-up one, aren’t you?”

“You’re the one with a gun against my cunt,” you whined, and he snorted.

“You’re the one who asked for it,” he said softly, and you bit your lip, moaning as he pressed the cold steel against your entrance. “Damn… You’re so wet, I bet it’d slide right in.”

“Oh,” you moaned, your body reacting to his words, walls clenching around nothing as you got closer to your orgasm. “Dean…”

“Hmm, cum for me, beautiful, come on,” he whispered, his hand leaving your wrists to tangle in your hair while the other pressed the gun against your clit again. “You got this, come on.”

You moaned again, the cold, hard surface rubbing against your swollen clit, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Tears were about to spill from your eyes as your walls clenched — softly at first, then harder and harder — until you let out a choked moan, your peak making your body shake in Dean’s grip.

“Dean,” you whined, practically begging, a sob slipping out as your whole body trembled. He let out a soft hum, whispering sweet nothings as he helped you ride out your orgasm: how you were so, so good, coming all over his hand like this.

He let go of your hair soon after, pulling back as you tried to catch your breath. You shifted on the bed, lying on your back, eyes all hazy as you looked at Dean, who was wiping your juices off his gun with your shirt. You let out a small, breathy moan at the sight, and he looked up at you, pupils dilated and face flushed, a clear bulge in his denim pants.

“Don’t you dare move,” he said softly, setting his gun on the bedside table before unbuckling his belt. You felt your swollen pussy clench when he smirked mischievously, his eyes never leaving yours as he crawled onto the bed, positioning himself between your thighs. “I’m not done with you yet, sweetheart.”

Participate in the kinktober writing list with my FREE SPACE dynamic. There are some free spaces for specific pairings and you can shoot me asks with suggestions for kinks and plots featuring them. I will choose one for each character featured to write! Free spaces available: Sam Winchester (SPN), Jason Newsted (Metallica), Cap. John Price (COD), Kakashi Hatake (Naruto), Cronos (Venom)

#ada writes fanfiction #kinktober 2024 #dean winchester smut #spn smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #spn x reader #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #spn x you #dean winchester #supernatural fanfic #spn fanfic #supernatural fic #spn fic

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saryasy · 5 months ago

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slow motion, double vision in rose blush

Buck/Eddie, hot infidelity summer, getting together, E, 20k

Summary:

Eddie has kissed a man.

Eddie Diaz. His friend. His Eddie. Has kissed a man.

Which is strange because Buck is sure as hell he'd remember kissing Eddie.

Or, Buck is very normal about his platonic friend's kissing habits.

Later, Buck is going to look back on this moment and realize it’s the moment that sets off a chain reaction changing his entire life for good.

The thing about such moments is that you don’t realize it while you’re living in them. No, right now, for Buck it’s just another Friday night, another get together with his co-workers and friends, another regular night at the bar.

It’s one of those very lucky, very rare weeks where everyone has the weekend off, so instead of heading home after their shift, the 118 - sans Bobby, who’s still busy house hunting with his wife, and obviously no Gerrard - go out. The others join in not too long after, Karen, and Maddie who drags Josh behind her.

“Maddie!” Buck squeals in excitement at seeing his older sister.

She does no such thing. “Oh, my god, Buck, are you drunk already?” She chuckles as he pulls her in an admittedly clumsy hug over the table.

“Nope,” Buck answers, and it’s not totally a lie. He’s veering into the territory of drunk, and fast, but he’s just not there, yet. Though, after Chimney’s bachelor party, he’s not sure if he wants to be. Right now, the slight, pleasant buzzing beneath his skin and the weightlessness to his body are enough.

“Yet,” Eddie supplies anyway from where he’s sitting next to him. The threatening, narrowed eyes Buck fixes him with go without an acknowledgement from the man.

continue reading on ao3

#911 abc #911 #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #my writing

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midnightdahlias · 21 days ago

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Sparks of the Apocalypse

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summery - you decide to go visit Bobby but are suprised by a certain stranger word count - 1.7K cws - fem!reader, pure fluff, mentions of violence (if you squint) lmk if i missed anything a/n - hope you enjoy this, sammy my beloved. I apologise for any mistakes, english isn't my first language. BUT I hope you like it either way and again any feedback is appreciated ! as are rebloggs and comments. happy reading !

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Being a hunter sucked sometimes. Scratch that, it sucked most of the time. You were always on the road, bouncing between crappy motels with peeling wallpaper and water pressure so bad you wondered why you even bothered showering. It wasn’t glamorous. But after a long day of getting tossed into walls and dodging claws or teeth, you’d sleep on the hood of your car if it came to that.

Still, there were moments. Rare ones. Like now. When you’d get a break long enough to drive to the only place that ever really felt like home. Bobby’s house.

Bobby Singer was, to put it mildly, a godsend.

Bobby had a reputation among hunters as the go-to guy. Need lore? Call Bobby. Fake supervisor for a cover story? Bobby’s your man. Need someone to vent to? Bobby would listen, grumbling all the while. Over the years, you’d grown close to him. He’d known your parents before you, and when they were busy chasing monsters, he’d looked after you. Bobby was more than just a friend, he was family. You always thought he’d have made a damn good dad. Though in many ways, he already was one.

After a particularly grueling hunt, you decided to head to Bobby’s, you needed more than a beer and a chat. Ever since the apocalypse started, it felt like every supernatural creature had lost its mind. Things were kicking into high gear, leading to longer nights and more close calls in a week than in your entire career. Oddly enough, you thrived under the pressure. Sure, the extra cuts and bruises were annoying, but it was the apocalypse, it was never going to be margaritas on a beach.

As you pulled into Bobby’s driveway, a sense of comfort and relief washed over you. The place always felt safe and welcoming, though you weren’t sure if that was because of the house itself or the man who lived there.

A black Chevrolet Impala sat parked outside, a car you didn’t recognize. Wonder who that belongs to, you thought, but you didn’t dwell on it. All you wanted was to kick your feet up and crack open a cold one.

Knocking on the door, you expected Bobby’s usual grumpy greeting, but today the door creaked open to reveal… definitely not Bobby.

Stood in the doorway was a younger man. The first thing you noticed about him was how tall he was, towering over your smaller frame. His soft hazel eyes caught your attention next, followed by his sharp but delicate features and the semi-long hair brushing just below his jaw. There was no denying it, he was handsome. For a moment, you stood frozen, your words caught in your throat. “Uh, hi. Who are you?” he asked, blinking down at you like he was just as surprised to see you as you were to see him.

You cleared your throat, trying not to stare. “Hey. Is Bobby home?” Not answering his question. ome would call it paranoia, you called it precaution but as good-looking as this stranger was, you weren’t about to share your name with someone you didn’t know.

He tilted his head, clearly debating whether or not to let you in. Before he could answer, Bobby’s familiar grumble echoed from somewhere inside.

“What’s takin’ so long? Who’s at the—oh.” Bobby wheeled into view, his grumpy expression softening when he saw you. “Well, I’ll be damned. Kid, get in here.”

You smiled, stepping inside to hug him. “Miss me?”

“Not really,” Bobby deadpanned, but you caught the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips.

“I would’ve called ahead,” you said with a smirk, “but since I never do, I figured why start now?”

Bobby chuckled, shaking his head. “Smartass.’’

Behind him, the tall guy was still standing there, looking amused. And at somepoint during your greating with Bobby, a second guy had appeared. He was shorter than the other, he also had green eyes and a cocky smirk. Great, you thought. Who are these guys?

“Who’s this?” the newcomer asked.

“This,” Bobby said, gesturing to you, “is one of the best damn hunters I know. And a lot more sensible than you two idjits, I’ll tell ya that much. Sam, shut the door before we all catch pneumonia.”

Sam.

You’d heard that name tossed around a lot lately, along with his brother’s. Hunters and monsters alike seemed to have plenty to say about the Winchester brothers, especially Sam, none of it good. But standing here now, looking at Sam, he didn’t seem dangerous or evil, just tired. Hurt, even. But as your eyes caught his, there was something else there aswell, something you couldn’t quite place.

Bobby’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Sit down, kid. Beer’s in the fridge. You look like you’ve been through hell.”

“Feels like it, too,” you muttered, plopping down on the couch.

Over beers in Bobby’s living room, the four of you swapped stories. Dean was charismatic, cracking jokes as he recounted close calls from past hunts. Sam, though quieter, was kind and insightful. You caught yourself glancing at him more often than you intended, and each time, you found his eyes already on you.

When Bobby suggested ordering food, you volunteered to cook instead. It was rare to get the chance to make a proper meal, and you weren’t about to pass it up. Bobby’s kitchen wasn’t exactly stocked, so a quick trip to the store had been necessary, but you didn’t mind so much, you liked cooking, it gave you a sense of calm.

You were halfway through chopping vegetables when you heard a soft voice behind you.

“Need a hand?”

You turned to see Sam hovering in the doorway, hands shoved in his pockets, a small smile tugging at his lips, looking almost… shy?

“Sure,” you said, handing him a knife and some vegetables.

You worked side by side, exchanging small talk to fill the silence. Normally, you were confident around men, but something about Sam made you nervous, in a good way. A different kind of nervous than the one you’d expect to feel around someone who’d let Lucifer out of his cage. His presence was calming, his smile disarming.

When your hands brushed as he passed you the cutting board, you froze. The touch was light, fleeting, but it sent a jolt through you like static electricity. Your breath hitched as a faint blush crept over your cheeks, but you quickly turned back to the stove, hoping to shake the feeling. What the hell is wrong with me? you thought, trying to push it all down. You weren’t usually this affected by anyone, let alone someone you’d just met.

Unbeknownst to you, Sam was just as affected. Behind you, he stood just as still, his heart thudding in his chest, the ghost of a smile playing at his lips.

From the moment he opened the door, he’d felt drawn to you. The way you spoke, the warmth in your laugh—it all felt oddly familiar, like you belonged here.

In the next room, Dean leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying the show. He nudged Bobby with a grin. Not even trying to hide his amusement.

“You seeing this?” he whispered, nodding toward the kitchen.

Bobby shot him a lookover his glass of whiskey. “They’re like a couple of deer caught in headlights,” he muttered. “Painful.”

Dean chuckled under his breath. “Think we should do something? You know, give ’em a little push?”

“Hell no,” Bobby said, shaking his head. “This is the most entertainment I’ve had in weeks.

Back in the kitchen, you worked in tense silence, trying to ignore the fact that you could feel Sam’s eyes on you. Every time you glanced up, there he was, watching you with an intensity that sent another wave of warmth crawling up your neck.

Normally, being stared at like that would’ve set you on edge, but Sam’s gaze wasn’t threatening. There was something soft about it, it was sweet, and that made it so much worse.

He cleared his throat suddenly, snapping you out of your thoughts. “Uh…anything else you need help with?”

His voice was low, gentle, and it only made your heart trip over itself again. You turned to him, forcing a casual smile despite the fluttering in your chest. “Nope, I think I’ve got it from here. Thanks, though.”

“Right. Yeah. Sure,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck.

It was such a small, awkward exchange, but it left you rattled. You found yourself hyperaware of every move he made, the way he leaned against the counter, the way his hair fell in his eyes when he glanced down.

And Sam? He wasn’t faring any better. The sound of your voice, the way your lips curved when you smiled, it was like you’d bewitched him without even trying. Though he wasn’t about to start complaining

In the next room, Bobby and Dean exchanged another knowing look.

“Think they’ll figure it out on their own?” Dean asked.

Bobby took a long sip of his drink before answering. “Doubt it. But watching ’em try sure is entertaining.”

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masterlist

#supernatural #supernatural x reader #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester #bobby singer #spn #oneshot #fluff

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doctorbitchcrxft · 13 days ago

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Are You There, God? It's Me, Dean Winchester | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader ( :0 ?? )

Warnings: angstangstangstangst, choking in a non-sexy way, canon violence, canon gore, reader is reeeallly unwell mentally, mentions of paranoia, mentions of self-hatred, just all the warnings. put 'em all here.

Word Count: 3154

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Playlist

Trailing Sam and Dean was easier said than done. It took you about a week to catch up to them. You only happened to find them when you went to Bobby’s house as a last-ditch attempt in your search.

Staying out of the sights of three of the most skilled hunters you’d ever met was easier said than done. However, your years of experience spying on the lairs of monsters for your father helped you to feel prepared for a high-stakes situation such as this.

Something that was making your job slightly easier was Bobby’s house being in the middle of nowhere. It allowed you to conceal your car in a clearing about a mile away from Bobby’s house at the edge of the woods. There, you slept; nights terrorized with traumatic memories and your visions of Dean in Hell. It had been months since you slept decently.

****

The soft morning light coming through the tinted windows of the trunk of your car was somehow soothing. You blinked the sleep away from your eyes and suddenly remembered why you were here. Just like that, the peace you’d felt had dissipated and was replaced by a crushing weight.

It was a heaviness you’d become accustomed to. There hadn’t exactly been room for joy in your life in days of late, and you hadn’t tried to find it. How your past-self had managed to become human again after the deaths of your immediate family members; you had no idea.

After concealing your car with fallen branches, you made the trek to the Singer house. You put a tracker on both the Impala and Bobby’s truck to avoid you losing them in the event you had to get back to your car when they decided to leave.

Hopefully, the thick tree branch you sat on would be enough to hold you up for the long hours you’d be spending on it. The birds chirped as the sun rose, painting the sky in soft hues of orange, pink, and purple.

Hours passed, and the loneliness began to set in. The yearning you felt for Dean when he was gone had only grown stronger since he’d been back. And yet, it still felt as though you were grieving him: as if you’d wake up the next morning, and he’d be gone again.

You used a pair of binoculars to spy yards away into the kitchen window. You saw Sam sitting on the bench below Bobby’s kitchen window, the oldest man standing nearby with his arms folded, and Dean pacing the floor. Your heart nearly stopped when you laid eyes on him for the first time since he’d been back, and tears sprang to your eyes.

Your stomach began to growl. Hunger was a feeling that had been evading you in the months after Dean’s death. Every once in a while, it had begun returning to you. Maybe you were healing.

**** You were cursing Uriel every two seconds as you barrelled down the road after the Impala. With no idea where the boys were off to or when they’d return seeing as they’d taken their duffel bags, you had no choice but to follow.

Everything about your current situation was foreign to you. You had no desire to partake in whatever hunt they were going on. All you wanted to do was make sure your boys— most of all, Dean— were okay. Such a blatant lack of empathy for whoever was in trouble was commonplace for you nowadays, but it still made your stomach turn. You had become so different from the person Dean fell in love with; even more of a reason for you to stay away from him.

You followed the boys all the way down to Jackson, Mississippi. It looked like they were doing a wellness check. They weren’t in any form of a costume, and they knocked on the door of the person’s home they’d led you to. From the glimpse you got inside the window of the house the brothers were in, whoever lived there was good and dead. You assumed another hunter, given the circumstances.

‘What the hell is going on here?’ you thought.

Night had fallen, allowing you to remain fairly inconspicuous as long as your headlights were off. While you waited a little while to begin following the Impala again, you sat back in your seat and closed your eyes. The next time you opened them, you felt a presence next to you.

Jolting upright, you turned to face the passenger side of the car. “Corbett?!” you squeaked.

“Hi,” he said, seeming far less timid than he was the first time you’d met him at the Morton house haunting. “ ‘S been a while.”

“Corbett, how are you—?”

“Why’d you do it?” he asked evenly, cutting you off.

“Do what? I didn’t do anything—”

He laughed bitterly. “Exactly. You didn’t do anything. You just let me die!” It was then the spirit of the shy Ghostfacer was on top of you in the driver’s seat with his hands around your throat.

Gasping for your breath, you fumbled for the railroad stake you kept in your center console. Thankfully, you managed to get it out and swiped at Corbett’s ghost with it just as your vision began to blur.

When he was gone, you just sat breathing heavily and trying to process what the hell had just happened.

****

Given your little encounter with Corbett had lost you significant time on catching up to the Winchesters, you had to speed the rest of the way to Bobby’s house. Every slight sound and movement out of the corner of your eye had you on edge, and you clutched the railroad stake in one hand and the steering wheel with the other.

It wasn’t until the next morning that you made it to the aging hunter’s house. You stayed hidden in the tree line with your sawed-off in hand, praying that Corbett didn’t return. You were so exhausted, scared, and paranoid, you hadn’t even given yourself a chance to process how and why Corbett was back. He’d been dead for over a year— and died in a completely different state from where he’d tried to kill you. Why would he be back for revenge in a place he wasn’t even murdered in?

Suddenly, you saw Meg through one of the second-floor windows of Bobby’s home. ‘No, it couldn’t be.’ But it was. She just had longer brown hair. And she was attacking Dean.

‘C’mon, Sam,’ you mentally begged. ‘Where the hell are you?!’

You couldn’t stand to watch her knock him around anymore. In your rational mind, you wouldn’t have made your next move. You were terrified of facing him again. However, your declining mental state had you bursting through Bobby’s back door and shooting shot after shot at Meg’s ghost when you’d reached the top of the stairs.

It seemed Dean’s brain stalled as he lay frozen on the ground, and yours did, too. Everything in you was screaming to run back out of the door before he could catch sight of you. But you remained frozen until it was too late.

Dean pushed himself up on his elbow, wincing and turning to see who’d saved him. Your heart stopped when he breathed out, “(Y/N)?”

Tears immediately flooded your eyes. “Hi, Dean.”

He scrambled to his feet. Various conflicting emotions crossed his face— anger, relief, betrayal, joy— and you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. “And where the fuck have you been?” he asked when he’d gotten ahold of his facial expressions again.

“I’m sorry,” was all you could say.

Dean laughed bitterly. “ ‘Sorry’ ain’t gonna cut it. Explain. Now.”

You cast your eyes to the floor. “I— I can’t.”

He huffed angrily. “You can’t?” He turned away from you, running a hand through his hair. “How long have you known?”

“Known what?” you returned, still unable to meet his eyes.

“That I was alive? How long,” he demanded.

Tension hung thick in the air as he awaited your answer. “I always knew.”

That disdainful, bitter laugh returned, and you couldn’t bear the way it made your heart squeeze in your chest. “I’m sorry, Dean,” you pleaded, tears flowing down your cheeks. “But it’s too complicated to explain.”

“ ‘Too complicated’? Or you just don’t give enough of a shit about me to even try,” he snapped.

Your eyes snapped up to his. “No, it’s not like that, I- I promise. Everything I’ve done the last five months has been for you.”

“Really?” he deadpanned.

“Really,” you nodded. “I know you have no reason to believe me—”

“You’re right,” he cut you off. “I don’t.”

You held your head low in shame while you waited for Dean’s next words.

His voice was considerably lower when he asked, “How long did they give you, huh? Six months? Less than that?”

“I didn’t make a deal, Dean,” you said, beginning to get frustrated with his accusatory tone; even though you could understand where he was coming from.

“I still don’t believe you,” he said.

“Well, it’s the truth,” you shot back.

Dean scoffed. “I don’t know why you’re gettin’ pissy with me, I’m not the one who abandoned family”

Your voice rose in anger. “I didn’t abandon you—!”

“Then what do you call the last month, huh? ‘Cause if I knew you were back from the grave? Come Hell or highwater, I would’ve made it back to you,” he said gruffly.

“Don’t you think I wanted to?” you pushed. “I told you, it’s not that easy!”

“Then tell me, (Y/N). Tell me what could’ve possibly been so important that you couldn’t come back to me,” he demanded.

You opened your mouth as if to start explaining but snapped it shut a second later.

Just then, Sam called, “Dean?!”

You turned down the stairs, hesitantly stepping closer to where your friend was waiting for his brother. When the younger Winchester’s eyes met yours, your stomach dropped.

“(Y/N)?” he breathed out.

“Hi, Sam,” you said quietly.

“What— Where did you—”

Dean brushed past you to head toward the kitchen. “We don’t have time for this.”

Sam looked hurt. You could understand that. This was the third time you’d walked out on them. You hated yourself for making them feel abandoned over an angel you had no true loyalty to.

When Bobby came in through the back door, he was both shocked and upset to see you. You were unfortunately becoming accustomed to that look.

“Kid…” he trailed off, keeping his distance from you.

“I know,” you said, idling near the front door. “I’m sorry.” You reached for the doorknob.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean grunted. “Where are you going?”

“I can’t stay,” you said, still staring at the ground.

Dean laughed coldly. “Of course not. Do me a favor, huh?”

You looked up to him, eyes dewey.

“Stay gone this time.”

Your heart sank. Bottom lip trembling, you bolted out of the door and back to your hiding spot in the trees behind Bobby’s house. Sitting down against the trunk of the tree, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes. You did your best to stifle your cries, but it was no use.

When your cries turned to sniffles, you prepared yourself to climb back up the tree. However, a whooshing sound caught your attention. With your eyes bloodshot and wild, you spun around.

“Behind you, (Y/N),” a voice cooed.

When you spun around, the source of the voice had disappeared. It wasn’t Corbett, and it wasn’t Meg… ‘What the hell is going on here?’

When you turned your head forward again, it was Nancy, the girl from the police station where you met Henriksen. You jerked back in surprise, taking a swipe at her with your iron stake.

Her laughter echoed in your ears as she disappeared. Something had turned this very sweet girl into a callous, cold shell of the person she was.

The next time she appeared in front of you, you noticed a symbol on her wrist. “What the hell are you?!” you cried, scrambling away from her on the ground trying to get to your sawed-off shotgun.

“Why didn’t you save us?” she asked, stalking toward you.

“I thought we did! Cut me some slack here, huh? I had no idea Lilith was coming your way,” you said.

“I don’t wanna hear it,” she spat through her teeth. “Do you know what she did to me?”

You just stared at her, clutching your shotgun and afraid of what she’d say.

“She peeled my skin off. While I was still alive,” she sneered.

“Nancy, I’m so sorry—”

“I don’t wanna hear it!” she roared, lunging for her.

You shot at her and braced for the impact in case she didn’t disappear. When you reopened your eyes, she was gone.

The next thing you knew, you were pinned to the ground clawing at the hands around your throat. Corbett was back, and he was going to ensure he took you with him to the afterlife.

Tears swam in your eyes as you tried with no avail to get him off you. Just as your eyes began to roll back in your head, the pressure around your throat went away. Breath filled your lungs once more through a big, heaving gasp. You coughed once, then twice, then sat up to see where Corbett had gone.

No matter how much time passed after Corbett disappeared, your heart rate wouldn’t slow, and the pit in your stomach didn’t subside. Hesitantly, you made your way back to your stolen car to have some sort of safe space. You refilled your gun with rock salt rounds and sat up straight with your nerves feeling completely fried. Every small sound and movement of a woodland creature outside the car made you jolt. Even the wind made the hairs on your arm stand up.

The passing hours gave you time to think over how your “reunion” with the Winchesters had gone. You felt so incredibly guilty for making them feel like you didn’t care about them, but it was for their own good. You knew you would be putting them in danger they didn’t need by getting involved with them again. Still, that didn’t make you feel any better when the man you loved most in the world told you not to come back.

Even thinking about those words made your heart squeeze in your chest. Tears sprang to your eyes, but you still tried your best to keep them at bay. If Corbett or Nancy came back, you wouldn’t exactly be having a therapy session with the two of them.

“Be not afraid, (Y/N),” a familiar voice said from beside you. “The Winchesters got rid of them.”

You clutched at your chest and squeaked out a yelp. When you realized it was only Uriel, you dropped your head back to the seat.

“You gotta stop doing that, man,” you breathed out.

“Excellent job with the witnesses,” Uriel told you evenly.

“Wh— The witnesses?” you asked, tossing your shotgun into the backseat and turning to face Uriel.

“Yes,” he nodded.

You realized then that your mother had once read you the extended, ancient version of the book of Revelations that detailed the beginning of the apocalypse. “Holy shit,” you breathed out.

“Ah, you do remember,” Uriel nodded.

“What, do you have, like, access to my memory bank or something?” you questioned.

“No,” he said. “But do you think it was coincidence that your mother had access to that book?”

You gave him a confused look. “What, have you always been involved in my life?”

“Like I told you, god has a plan for you.”

And with that, he was gone.

****

You hadn’t been able to sleep a wink. All night, you scribbled in your journal everything you remembered about the version of Revelations your mother had read you:

“Revelations— the extended director’s cut,” you began.

“- Recipe for the apocalypse (sp?):

66 seals

There’s a lot of options to choose from, but you only have to break 66 of them to free Lucifer from hell

Seven ‘published’ seals

The cries of martyrs

Plagues/electric storms

Last involves seven angels with seven trumpets dealing out seven plagues

“And it is written, that the first seal shall be broken when a righteous man sheds blood on behalf of Hell and his divine counterpart sheds blood on behalf of Heaven. As they break, so shall it break.”

Fuck you, uriel

The Rising of the Witnesses— ghosts forced to rise. Usually experienced violent deaths

Lilith, probably

Purposefully used spirits hunters couldn’t save? Dean with Meg; me with Nancy and Corbett?

Natural disasters, ‘fiery skies’, Four Horsemen— all signs of the apocalypse

I am struggling so hard to remember specific signs

Oh!

The woman clothed with the sun

The Great Red Dragon (Satan)

The Land Beast with horns like a lamb

antichrist?

Something about a false prophet?”

You slammed your pen down in frustration and ran a hand through your hair. “Fuck,” you cursed. The hazy bits of Revelations that you did remember were absolutely horrible, and you were terrified of what was to come. If only you’d listened to your mother more closely when she used to read you those stories.

Her methods of soothing you to sleep were unconventional to say the least. She read you and Steven books on demonology she plucked from local libraries or the Bible because your father believed that fairytales were a waste of your time. Your mother at least wanted you to be somewhat of a normal child and insisted on reading you some kind of bedtime stories.

It was all getting to be too much for you to handle on your own. Everything in you desperately wanted to run that mile through the dark woods to Bobby’s house and throw yourself into Dean’s arms. It hurt you so badly to know that he didn’t want the same thing; in fact, he never wanted to see you again.

If only he knew that everything you did, you’d done for him. You wanted to tell him about Uriel and the men you’d kidnapped and that you’d seen him in Hell every night. But a much more logical part of you drowned out those voices, reminding you that you were given a job to do.

Maybe Uriel— and Heaven, by extension— needed you to be the Winchesters’ protector so they could stop the apocalypse from happening. As outlandish as that felt to even think about, you’d become accustomed to far weirder happenings in your life. Maybe when this was all over, you could tell Dean everything.

A mocking phrase danced in your head that threatened that somewhat optimistic outcome: ‘If you even live long enough to see the end of this.’

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-nesmith @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x y/n #spn #supernatural #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x y/n #dean x you #spn series rewrite

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the-night-moves-writing · 8 months ago

Text

Savior- Sisterhood (part 1)

Winchesters x Sibling reader (sibling bond ONLY)

Castiel x Winchester Reader (Platonic)

Summary: When Castiel goes off the deep end and becomes god, he finds he still has a soft spot for the smallest winchester

Warnings: angst, reader is mute for a lot of the fic, Descriptions of a panic attack, mentions of John Winchester being a bad father

Characters: John, Castiel x Reader (platonic), Dean x Reader (siblings), and Sam x reader (siblings), very small amount of destiel (you can see it if you squint)

Word count: 1746

A/N: Hi guys! I feel like i might post a little bit more now that i'm back, also there is a part two (and maybe three) in the works for this! i will create a list for you to be able to find all the parts and link it to my masterlist once i get it all set up. Also now i am on A03 and i will link that to my masterlist here in a little bit too. Anyway sorry for the long authors note, heres the fic. <3

I think of ways to turn the tables and fear what happens when they turn, the anger he fills in turn fills me with uncertainty and anxiety. His father passed the hate down the table, passed through graves and passed through cradles. He said he could never turn out like him, he was different. He kept those he wanted to protect at arms length, never fully giving himself the right to feel and to be loved. The one exception to the rule was Sam. Little brother Sammy, his whole reason for continuing on was to take care of Sam and protect him. Then here I came into the picture like a wrecking ball through the perfectly built motel room.

Left on the doorstep with nothing but a note that read: John i could no longer take care of our child so i give them to you. May they grow to be strong and better than the both of us. There was no name left on the note but my father John Winchester knew who it was from, some random lady in a bar. He never wanted to deal with me so he placed me into Dean's caring arms. Dean was not only my brother and caregiver but also my dad in my eyes. So Dean and Sam became my whole world my entire life, until Sam left us for college. Being only 6 at the time I had a very little understanding of why he left but Dean always just said he left us. So I hunted with Dean and John, well less hunting and more researching for them and learning everything I could about the lore so that I could be helpful to Dean and John and take Sam's place in hunting.

Then it was just me and Dean hunting and I learned the basics. When Dean went to get Sam from college because John had been gone for a few days on a hunting trip i was so angry, how could he leave us and how could Dean still want him back especially when i was 10 and more than capable of helping dean. Then he came back and we were together again and things were good, until Dean died and Sam dropped me off at Bobbys. I was 13 years old and I could hunt with him, I didn't want to be away from both of my brothers. Bobby thought that I needed a car though so he let me rebuild one with him so I rebuilt my sweetheart, I couldn’t call her baby despite me loving the car, a 1965 mustang. A nice little two seater that I had painted green. I used the car to visit where Sam had Dean buried, all the time. Bobby was concerned at how much time I spent at his grave but I couldn't help it.

I had lost both of my brothers and the only family I had ever had and I was grasping at straws, I lived but it was my spirit that was haunting Bobby's house. I had become basically mute within these past months and Bobby was trying everything to get me to speak again. So when Dean returned out of nowhere I stayed by his side, though it worried Dean how quiet I was. I never left his side though which helped to ease his anxieties and when the entity was following Dean we had bigger things to deal with. I stayed far away from Sam not being able to look in his eyes after being left again. Then we met Castiel. I was very worried and very scared. Somehow Cas picked up on it though and constantly eased my fears, he could tell why i didn't trust Sam and unlike Dean accepted and understood it. Cas easily became a good friend to me because I didn't have to speak with him and he didn't have to try to understand human norms with me.

Dean and Sam were both worried about this new found friendship between me and the angel but they saw the way that I was opening up. Saw the way I was becoming happy again and they just couldn't interfere. Everything changed when I turned 15 Castiel died and Sam went to hell. Cas came back though like always and when Sam didn't have a soul and Dean was searching for a way to return his, Cas stuck by me cared for me and kept me safe. He answered when I called and he took care of me. He takes care of me and is the only person I can trust. Then I hit 16 and the worst period of my life began, Cas declared himself the new god. The sadness I felt in my chest, crushing my heart.

For the first time in almost 4 years I had something to say

“Cas STOP!” I said

Everyone turned to stare at me, and Cas turned to walk towards me. He took my hand

in his and said,

“I am extremely proud of you my very devoted little one”

His tone borders on threatening and dipping into enjoyment and pride.

He looked between Dean and Sam and myself before he spoke once more

“I expect complete devotion from you all…” he paused for a second, taking a breath before turning to me. The look in his eyes was no longer the soft and comforting look I had grown accustomed to.

“…you have proven that you will speak for me in what you consider dire situations, so I command you to continue to do so” his gaze softened “ You have always been my favorite, my little one. Please do not give me any reason to punish you.”

I, not being able to meet his gaze any longer, turned to look at the ground. My favorite person was now gone and there was nothing I could do to bring him back. I could follow him and leave my brothers again, leave my family. Or I could stay and lose the person I'm closest to in the whole world.

I could hear Dean and Sam shouting but I felt like my head was being pushed underwater, I couldn't breathe and I could feel the tears begin to run down my face and splatter on to the floor below. My vision was blurry and it was so loud everything was so loud, my entire life was falling apart and there was nothing I could do about it. I was completely hopeless and useless, I wasn't good enough. Good enough to help Sam and Dean with hunts, or protect them from going to hell, I couldn't do anything. I could feel my breathing quicken and my chest tightening.

“STOP” Cas’s voice cut clear though the air, he turned from the boys walking towards me. My thoughts, eyes, and breathing were still shaky and unfocused. At some point I had ended up on my knees sobbing.

“Obviously I cannot leave the care of you to these two, my little one, I better take you with me.” He stated, me not hearing him, though it was more a threat to the boys. Dean finally noticed me and ran over and moved to be on his knees, Sam hot on his trail following suit to kneel in front of me.

“Hey hey hey your ok sweetheart, I promise. I got you, deanies here, don't worry.” Dean said, bringing up the nickname I used to call him trying to calm me down. Dean and Sam continued their calming words till my breath returned to normal. Cas was still staring at us from afar. He looked at us for a minute before speaking

“If you wish for me to let you keep your sister I expect obedience Dean, I do not want to fret over her as i try to rebuild heaven. I could always just take her with me if that would make you more compliant.” His voice booming and loud

“P…. please let me stay” my voice is still shaky and rough not only from the panic attack but from years of not using it.

“This is not a decision for you to make, if i dont think Dean is capable of caring for you then I won't hesitate to bring you with me.” He said to me

“Remember for almost 4 years I was the only person you spoke to. I know everything about you, and Dean cannot care for you as much as I could, little one.” Castiel’s voice seemed to soften when speaking to me. Dean could no longer take the former angel speaking as if he could not care for HIS siblings any longer.

“I’ve taken care of her my entire life Cas I think I know what I am doing.” He said a little bit pissed and it showed through his voice.

“I am no longer Cas to you Dean, you may refer to me as lord or god but never speak as if you are close to me again.” The statement was heartbreaking for the hunter, who always had a ‘profound bond’ with the angel.

“Another thing you say you have cared for them yet they were mute for four years, and you have caused so much damage to them. Do you really think you can care for them better than I?” Cas asked him completely serious

“I tried Cas you know better than anyone that i tried for almost two years, but i can't MAKE them talk” Dean was full blown angry now. Making me more frightened

“I TOLD YOU TO NOT CALL ME CAS.” Cas said his voice booming off the walls, he brought his hand up to slam Dean into the wall

“Stop, stop, stop please, I’m sorry, I'm so sorry, please just let me stay.” you cried out

“You have no control over my actions, little one. Dean had been given too many warnings, but seeing as you want to stay I will allow it, but believe me I will be doing check ups, and if I believe that you are not being cared for I will not hesitate to take you. You are still only a child who needs to be protected.” Cas said putting Dean down, Sam running to help him, Cas then turned from me to the brothers before speaking one last time.

“Heed my warnings. I am not going to repeat myself.” he said before disappearing, leaving the siblings alone in the warehouse.

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thirdsaltyhunter · 8 months ago

Text

Hold Me Together

Dean Winchester x Reader (could be read as platonic or romantic)

Summary: you're having a hard time trying to hold it together after Bobby's death, but Dean's there to pick up the pieces

Warning: hurt/comfort, sweet Dean, character death, talk of death and depression, smoking, season 7 spoilers

A/N: this is written as a reader pov but it's more of an o/c just without a name, not proofread all mistakes are my own

Bobby had taken you in when you were a teenager. At fourteen your entire life had been upended. You lost your parents and any semblance of the normal life you had. Bobby had found you on a hunt and had taken you back to his home. You were hesitant to trust him and for the first few weeks you hardly talked, ate, or slept, still processing what had happened to you. At least processing the best a fourteen year old, with no prior knowledge of the hunting world, could.

Bobby was patient with you, gaining your trust and trying to get you to open up. He was hesitant to tell you about hunting and the world of the supernatural, but you were a curious kid and you started to read his lore books. After that you figured it out pretty quickly and took quite the interest in it. Many days, you spent reading about monsters and the paranormal. You learned about how to kill them and Bobby taught you how to protect yourself.

At the age of sixteen, you decided to become a hunter, against Bobby's wishes. You fit the bill of a hunter: no family, no friends, and a boat load of trauma. Despite how young you were, you were pretty good at killing monsters, given that you now had two years worth of knowledge about hunting and a lot of training.

Hunting became your life. You were on the road a lot of the time, but you would always come back to Bobby's house after every hunt and he would take care of you. Through him, you met Sam and Dean. You helped them find their dad and after he died you went quite a few hunts with them. Eventually you became close friends and hunting partners, being there when Sam died, when Dean came back from Hell, fighting side by side during the Apocalypse.

You were one little, messed-up family, brought together by the fact that Bobby was like a father to all of you. And now he was gone.

It had been almost two weeks since Bobby had passed away. You and the boys were holed up in Rufus's cabin in Montana, trying to deal with his death. You hadn't been sleeping, opting to stay busy to try and keep from breaking down. You had spent a lot of your time getting his affairs in order and calling the people closest to him to let them know what happened. As his adoptive daughter, you felt it was your duty.

When you weren't doing that, you were trying to figure out what the numbers he had scrawled on your hand meant. You had tried almost everything you could think of, bank numbers, passwords, lock codes. Nothing worked and it was driving you crazy.

You had been distant from the boys, even though you were all staying in the small cabin together, you were quiet and in your head most of the time. You knew they were worried about you, trying to get you to eat or sleep. They knew that you were the closest to Bobby out of the three of them and would take his death hard, but it surprised them that you never broke down, you just kept working.

But everyone break eventually. There's always that moment where everything hits. That is where you are now. Crying so hard it hurts and utterly exhausted.

Both the boys were gone, Sam had gone on a supply run and Dean had gone to give Bobby's mystery numbers to Frank to see if he could figure them out.

You sat crammed between the coffee table and the couch, knees to your chest, holding a picture of you and Bobby in one hand and a cigarette in the other. You don't even know what had started it, but you had just...broke. All the emotions you had been pushing back came to the surface all at once and now you had sat there and sobbed until your chest ached.

You didn't know how much time had passed when you heard the front door open. Lifting your head from your knees, you saw that Dean had walked through the door. You didn't want him to see you like this, you never really cried in front of him and certainly not sobbing like you were now. He hadn't seen you yet, given that you were on the floor, so you quickly wiped your tears. Maybe you could run to the bathroom before he saw your face.

Nope. As soon as he turned around, he locked eyes with you and you knew there was no way he wouldn't notice you had been crying. He noticed everything.

"Aw, Sweetheart," he said softly. Seeing your face, he crossed to room and moved to kneel beside you.

"I'm ok," you said and stood up, trying to brush him off. "I'm ok," you repeated, more to yourself, as you tried to will away your tears.

However, you couldn't hold back the fresh wave building behind your eyes. You let out a broken sob and your legs gave out on you, partially from the awkward angle you had been sitting at and partially from how exhausted you were.

Dean caught you before you could fall. "Ok, you're ok," he said, holding you to him with one arm as he took the photo and your cigarette from your hand and put it out in the ashtray.

Before you could protest, he had lifted you into his arms and move to lay on the couch with you on top of him. All you could do, was let the tears fall as you clung to his shirt and let him position you in a way that was comfortable.

"Shhh, I got you, it's ok," he soothed, wrapping you in his arms and running a hand up and down your back.

He didn't say anything other than whispered assurances, just letting your emotions run through you as he fought tears in his own eyes. After what felt like an eternity of crying and soaking his shirt, sleep finally pulled you under.

Sam walked through the door with an arm load of groceries. "Hey man, wha-" he stopped himself when himself when he saw his brother raise a finger to his lips and then point to you. Only then did the younger Winchester realize that you were asleep on top of his brother, wrapped in a blanket that Dean had pulled over you.

"She ok?" he mouthed, noting the solemn expression on his brother's face.

Dean shook his head 'no'.

"I'll make her some food, she needs to eat," Sam whispered, as to not wake you, and proceeded to make dinner as quietly as possible.

You felt a hand gently shaking your shoulder before you heard Dean's voice.

"Hey Sweetheart," he said, when your eyes finally peeled open. "Sammy made dinner." He hated having to wake you, but you had to be starving.

You nodded and untangled yourself from Dean's embrace. You really didn't want to leave the comfort of his arms, but your stomach was demanding food after so long without eating.

You went to the bathroom to wash the tears stains from your face before joining the boys at the kitchen table. Neither of them made you talk if you didn't want to, instead they made light conversation and tried to make you smile. You knew this was going to be a hard time on all of you, but you were eternally grateful to have them by your side.

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x you #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester fic #dean x y/n #supernatural #dean x you #dean winchester x gn!reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x reader fluff

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castiwls · 1 year ago

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Hii

I was wondering if you could so something with a dean x reader where one of them gets attacked by a djinn and their fantasy involves the other person?

djinn - d.w

pairing; Dean x fem!reader

synopsis; A Djinn's coma causes Dean to come to a realisation

warnings; none

notes; Idk how i feel about the ending of this one

masterlist

Dean groaned as he squinted at the light snaking through the gap in the curtains. Throwing an arm over his eyes he turned pulling the covers up with him. How much did he drink last night? He hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years.

Deciding sleep was the best idea he pulled the cover higher and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for a few minutes as he lay still, his head still throbbing.

“Dean. Come on you need to get up. You're going to be late.” Someone reached over and pulled the cover down despite his protests. A hand shook his shoulder briefly before he felt a dip in the bed. The hand which had previously been in his hair moved upwards and began carding through his hair slowly. “Dean, come on.”

Dean frowned slightly. He knew that voice. “Y/n?” He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the person beside him in slight shock. You smiled at him, your hand continuing its movements. “You need to stop drinking at night.” Your voice was still quiet but there was a hard edge to it. “You promised you’d stop.”

What was going on? This wasn’t normal…at all. Sure you’d been on his case about his drinking habits for ages but you’d never been this nice about it. Normally you’d just make some snarky comment about how he was drinking himself to an early grave before pushing him to bed.

He rubbed at his eyes sitting up slowly. He slowly took in his surroundings as his body seemed to finally wake up. This wasn't the motel. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on you. You looked…different.

You looked happier. The stress lines which seemed to be prematurely forming were gone and those dark bags which seemed a constant under your eyes were gone. Satisfied that he was up you stood from the bed. “You have an hour till you need to go.”

Dean frowned clearing his throat. The headache seemed to be subsiding. “Go where?” At his words, your frown deepened. A look of concern crossed your face. “The garage. You said you would cover a shift for Bobby remember?”

Dean quickly nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry just not with it this morning.” You shook your head before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking out of the room.

Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the affection. While he couldn’t lie that he enjoyed it, the action also caused warning alarms in his head.

You and Dean weren’t a thing. You’d always just been his best friend nothing more. He slowly stood and walked over to the drawers pushed up against the wall and pulled a few open till eventually he found his own stuff. He’d never seen this house before in his life yet as he looked around the room it seemed that he had lived here for a while. The bedroom alone had pictures dotted around, things he had no memory of.

The last thing he remembered before waking up here was being in a barn on a hunt with Sam and the real you. He rubbed his neck as he racked his brain. What had you all been hunting?

Suddenly it hit him. A Djinn. “Fuck. Fuck.” He kicked the leg of the bed in frustration. That son of a bitch had managed to get the jump on him. He needed to get out of this dreamland fast.

After calming himself down and getting dressed Dean made his way through the house. As he’d gotten dressed he’d been thinking of a plan. He had to wake up his actual body somehow and then get out of the barn. So far though he had no idea how to do that.

His only hope was that you and Sam would realise that he’d been grabbed and go after him.

After a few moments, he found himself standing in the doorway to a small kitchen. At the sound of his steps (fake), you turned to face him. “There’s coffee in the pot.” You gestured to the counter beside you before you went back to cooking.

Was this really his fantasy? Yeah sure, maybe his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic but he didn’t realise they went this far. While he knew he had to wake up part of him didn’t want to. For the first time in years, you looked calm. You seemed the happiest he’d seen as you moved around the kitchen, humming softly.

“So, um.” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter. “Any plans for today?” He cursed himself internally at how awkward he was being but he had to at least act like he had an idea of what was going on.

You pursed your lips for a moment before coming over to him. You stopped in front of him before speaking. “Not much. Probably just more wedding planning I guess.” You shrugged not noticing his expression. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask if you were happy with the quote for the venue. They need a response by tomorrow.” You stepped back before reaching for two plates from behind him.

Dean stood still as he digested what you had just dropped on him. You were getting married. To him.

“Uh yea. Yeah, it was nice.” He nodded. You smiled as you turned with two plates. “Great I’ll call them later.”

Dean followed behind you as you walked over to a small table. He was getting married.

What else was different in this ‘fantasy’

You frowned stepping over a pile of you didn’t even know what. “He has to be here somewhere.” You whispered as Sam shone the flashlight around the old barn.

“Over there” Sam shined the light to a corner of the barn. You could just make out the shape of a person strung up. You and Sam had managed to get rid of the Djinn relatively easily, the hard part was finding his hideout. The creature hadn’t exactly been willing to talk.

You’d only managed to figure it out due to Dean mentioning to you before he left that he was going to a barn a few miles from the motel.

You both rushed over and began to untie him. “Dean! Hey Dean.” Sam shook his brother harshly for a moment. Dean let out a quiet groan before his eyes slowly opened. “Wha-where.” He stumbled over his words for a moment before rubbing at his eyes.

Y/n crouched down beside Sam and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you ok?”

Dean nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet stumbling slightly. You quickly reached out to steady him. Dean’s eyes flew down to where your hand rested on his arm.

His heart picked up slightly at the touch before he cleared his throat and looked back up to where you were looking back with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat trying to push the woozy feeling in his stomach away.

As the three of you walked back to the car he found his gaze falling on your left hand. Dean had never been one for marriage or even crushes for that matter but for the first time in his life, he felt himself longing for something which seemed so far out of reach.

#supernatural #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester headcanon #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x female!reader #spn reader insert #spn fanfic #spn imagine #dean winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #.mine #.spn #.deanwinchester #.req

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