#house hunting with bobby though

[moonlightspencie]

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!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

[arjwrites]

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?” 

[castiwls]

"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. 

[ninii-winchester]

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

[allmoshnobrain]

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) 

[morganwrites12672]

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."

▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣▣

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

Tag List: @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @lmhf1 @espressovz @illicithallways @tranquilitybasegrunge @ryoiii @delulu-101 @ladysparkles78

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[thirdsaltyhunter]

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.

[wearywinchester]

Settle Down

Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: A rough day leaves you unable to sleep, and unable to slow your thoughts from racing. But a certain hunter knows the solution to make things better.

Warnings: angst, anxiety, crying, mild language, fluff

You woke up again, just the same as you’d done probably as little as minutes ago. With the same pound of your heart, so much so it sent trembles through you. With the same wetness on your cheeks, the breeze from the half open window blowing over them and cooling the heat that burned in them.

You were still slightly dampened with sweat, each prickling round of it never having fully gone away. You woke up just as disoriented as the previous time, just as confused. And it remained as such until your gaze scanned around the room.

It was fine. You were at Bobby’s house, in that familiar old bedroom. You were laying on that same old twin size mattress, surrounded by those same four walls and all the posters that hung on it, their corners peeling away.

It was fine. You were in a familiar space, and not trapped in the nightmare your mind had created for you. You weren’t, but your head was telling you otherwise, and nothing could outmatch the stubbornness of your very own mind.

But this time it was different. It was different in the sense of dread it left you with. The dread of falling back asleep and repeating the same routine as you’d done so many times before, all in this same night.

You were so tired, so very tired and the fatigue weighed heavy on you. It was damn near maddening how exhausted you were, yet completely awake all the same. And you couldn’t bear the thought of tossing and turning and returning to that space your mind created for you should you allow yourself to close your eyes again. You couldn’t. You won’t.

You were fairly certain everyone was still in the house, but given the hour, there wasn’t much movement to base your guess around. You could only hope for it to be so.

And hope is what you held as you pushed the covers back towards the foot of the bed. They’d been suffocating you with an overwhelming heat, yet the moment they’d left your skin, a bout of shivers ran through you immediately. But the inconvenience wasn’t fully so as you planted your feet on the floor.

You were unbalanced as you stood up, that tremble radiating from head to toe as your heart did little in slowing down since you’d woken up.

Everything in the room was as you’d left it, from your duffel bag to your shoes, though you were certain you wouldn’t have been able to notice a change with how worked up you were in that moment. But you knew enough to know things were as they should be, knew enough to know you were alright where you were in Bobby Singer’s house.

You stepped in the hallway, the small nightlight that was plugged into the wall by the baseboards having illuminated the space some. The door to the room Sam was staying in was closed, the light from the lamp that’d been shining under the door having been turned off.

Bobby’s door had been closed as well, the sound of his snores seeping through the old wood having been a dead giveaway that he was home too. But neither were what you were looking for, and you continued on to the stairs in search of it.

You wince at the sound of the wooden boards, creaking under your feet. It spiked a fear of being heard by something you wouldn’t want to, the sound having attracted the attention of monster after monster in all the homes you’d hunted in before.

This isn’t there, you remind yourself.

But still, the fear was still there.

The further down you got, the closer to the first floor you were, you saw the glow of the lamp illuminating the space warmly, the one in the living room. And the closer you got, the more you heard the sound of the tv playing a show you couldn’t discern. But, regardless, it sent a flicker of relief through you.

You stepped down from the last step and looked to your side, seeing a familiar boot, half tucked under familiar blue jeans dangling off the couch. You walked towards the living room, relief in your timid stride as you got closer.

Dean was on the couch, eyes closed and arms crossed over his chest. One leg lay outstretched across the couch, the other having been bent, his foot planted on the floor.

The coffee table was littered with lore, newspapers and clippings scattered across it. A plate with pizza crust was on the far end, a couple empty beer bottles amidst it all. The rest of the six pack sit on the floor by the table, the one he bought at the gas station down the road.

His lips were parted and he was snoring softly, and it was then that you’d begun to feel bad. He was just as tired if not more. You shouldn’t be bothering him with your stupid little sleepless night, you shouldn’t disturb his sleep just because you couldn’t maintain your own slumber.

That feeling was sinking and it had you swallowing thickly, tears stinging your eyes at how hopeless you felt as you backed away, spinning on your heel as you began to leave the room.

You tried your best to be light on your feet, to sneak back upstairs just the same as you snuck down. But it was silly to be so hopeful, the floor creaking seemingly louder than before as you stepped on it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and held your breath.

“Sweetheart?”

Dammit.

You released the breath you were holding and opened your eyes after a moment. You felt selfish for the relief you felt upon hearing his voice.

You turned around after a moment or two, meeting his half squinted gaze as he sat up a little bit. You swallow thickly as you look at him, optimistic that maybe you didn’t look distressed, that maybe you looked like your normal self. But again, that was a silly notion.

“You okay?” He asks.

Your nod was immediate, frighteningly so, and you knew it wasn’t believable. “‘M fine.”

Your voice was trembled and you hated it, the pitiful sound having made you want to cry even more. He was never going to fall for that one.

“Y/n,” he says, and you can hear it in his voice as he wakes up more. He was never fully asleep anyway. “C’mere.”

“I said I’m fine, Dean. Was just grabbing some water.”

He knew for a fact that was nothing other than a lie. He knew it because he brought you a full glass just thirty minutes ago, and it accompanied the other glass that remained there from when he’d brought it up earlier. And he knew that if he would’ve been up there with you he’d have been awoken by your nightmare, saw it with his own eyes in real time. But he sees it now, can tell that’s what it is.

The only reason he’d been sleeping separately was because that damn twin bed was too small for two, and he wanted you to have your space. Because when you’re upset that’s most always what you want, even though he would have crammed himself onto that mattress in a heartbeat had you wanted him to.

You do want him.

“Yeah, well, ‘m not asking. C’mere,” he says, soft yet demanding all the same.

You don’t hesitate, your feet moving before your mind could tell you to stop. You walk right over to him and around that coffee table. You feel the warmth of his hand as it wraps around your wrist, tugging you down to sit in his lap.

The couch was warm, what little you felt of it anyway. But you tucked yourself against him, as tightly as you could manage. You no longer cared how pitiful and afraid you looked, he knew that’s how you felt regardless of how hard you tried to look brave and tough and strong. It was a useless effort and you gave up trying to hold it steady.

He picked up the remote and turned the volume down a couple notches, but left it on. He knew you don’t sleep as well without something on in the background.

He tossed it to the side, and you jostled around for a moment from your spot on his chest as he reached up and grabbed the fleece blanket from the back of the couch, opening it up with a couple shakes. It fell over you with a cool breeze before the weight of it conformed around you, warm, but not as warm as the green eyed hunter you’d tucked yourself against.

“Better?” He asks, the single word having been spoken against your forehead.

It wasn’t until he heard your hum of approval that he pressed a kiss there, humming himself as he smoothed your hair away from your face.

“Thought it might be.”

Dean Winchester may be rough around the edges, you knew that to be true, but a side so few see is just how much softer than that he could be. Just how nurturing he truly is.

You knew it to be so as he caress your skin with a featherlight touch, the calloused feeling of his hand having mingled with the warmth, the feeling putting the idea of comfort to shame as his hand settles on your cheek.

He can feel the heat in your face, can really feel it as he wipes away the dampness from your tears with a swipe or two of his thumb. He knew you weren’t alright, he knew it from the moment you got in the car earlier that day.

His lips were soft and warm as they pressed their way along your forehead and against your temple, nearly making circles if soft kisses as his fingers gently worked through every tangle in your hair.

“Wanna talk about it?” He asks softly.

You respond with a simple shake of your head, and you began to worry he’d confuse it with a nod, but your worries soon diminish.

“‘S alright,” he says, “won’t make you talk.”

You exhale a long sigh, feeling as though you’d been holding your breath even though you haven’t been. But you lift your head as much as you could muster, tipping your head back to look at him and admire.

Admire the way he looks at you, the way he observes every inch of your face. The way he tangles you up with himself, keeping you close. The way he looks so sleepy, yet so ready to go up against anything that even puts thought into hurting you. You just look at him for a few moments.

“I love you,” you whisper, soft and gentle and entirely meaningful.

You watch a soft smile tug at the corners of his mouth, soon to fall from your line of sight as you lean up and kiss him. But when you pull back and look it him once more, it’s never left.

In a few fleeting moments he bends his legs to scoot you upwards, tucking you into him all the more closely. His hand settles on your cheek as his lips press to your forehead, and one to your nose. He pulls that blanket up some more, and lays further into the couch.

“I won’t let anything happen, sweetheart.”

In other words, I love you too.

And finally, for the first time that night, you were able to settle down.

—

Taglist: @harrysweasleys @flamencodiva @stixnstripesworld @elegantbutedgy @campingmonkey @lanea-1 @deandaydreaming @agalliasi @malindacath @ajreturnstocringeyaccount @deanswaywardgirl @awkward-and-indecisive @drownthewitch @happyt0exist @sparkycorleone @humanmistakes @akshi8278 @kidd3ath @nyotamalfoy @elliewigginton20 @wandering-winchesters @senjoritanana

[rellsingsovern]

In my notes during this whole season I’ve kept track of loose ends and just other plot points I think could make for a great senior year (which now seems likely that we will get down the line in the future) and this finale gave me almost everything I wanted and more so here’s what I think we’re gonna see (plus things that I just rly want to see lol)

-first and foremost, BARON IS STILL IN RIZ’S BRIEFCASE!!! the spectral mordred manor probably is not there as that was a haven sent out by cassandra during all the divine interventions in falinell and the bad kids dove in as a last second decision, but baron is still definitely there. ‘I am somewhere always close to Riz Gukgak’ and while everyone’s journey with their sexuality happens on their own time and Riz shouldn’t have to come out if he doesn’t want to yet, now that he’s coming to terms that his friends might not always be together in the way he wants to I think it would be healing for him to fully confront and accept his aro aceness and have support with that and realize that even if they can’t be physically together his friends won’t leave him for other relationships

-Fabian is getting a new baby sibling, but that is not the only sibling he’s ever had. James Whitlaw made references to his half siblings from Bill that he killed and ate, I am POSITIVE that at least one is still out there and probably has it out for Fabian (as Bill married Hallariel, raised Fabian, and dragged his ship into solace to give him a new life) and an arc where Fabian has to defend himself against an older sibling while growing to love his younger would be amazing to see

-kalina, bakarath, bobby, and buddy ofc, I’ve been wondering where kalina has been this whole time, and I want to see more of bobby getting what he deserves. Cassandra’s been through a fucking lot this season but her familiar apparently might be a big bad along with arianwen again so sorry cass but the cat’s gotta go. she still directly got pok killed riz deserves to hunt her down and avenge him a second time

-speaking of, Arianwens been making moves in sylvaire! Adaine and aelwyn will surely kill her but from the looks of it even though she got her magic taken away she may have some sort of power. Cant wait for these sisters to be able to live immortal lives without their parents looming over them

-BUCKY APPLEBEES!! bucky, a paladin of cassandra, gathering the courage to ask Kristin for help getting bricker and cork out of the Applebees residence, maybe moving into mordred and everyone immediately being enamored with these cute little boys who honestly might turn out to be mumple instead of wanting to attend the adventuring academy and Kristin being so happy they aren’t being raised in a pressure cooker anymore and affected like she and bucky were affected, happy that they can be normal kids (and in being around Kristin’s other sisters, adaine and fig, Kristin ends up getting that sister she always wanted in bucky too)

-I’m so happy Fig is getting what she wants and realizing she doesn’t want to finish Aguefort, and it would be awesome if she got a new character and the bad kids took on a new party member for the year played by Emily so all the intrepid heroes are still together, but Fig could be hanging out between mordred and Seacaster and leviathan and Hell, writing music and helping Kristin spread word of the cassandra/Ankarna pantheon through it, and since in sophomore year we saw Penelope dayne daybreak and Johnny spells all kicking it in hell maybe Jace (who ik was a minion mostly but hey he could be evil on his own) is down there with some other bad kid nemeses

-more Galicea and Sol. Sol canonically was all for bringing Ankarna into the pantheon of himself, his sister galicea, his other sister cassandra, and his son helio. It was Sol’s followers who saw Ankarna brought in as another god of the sun and brought about the ruin and corruption of Ankarna alongside the house of sunstone in order to get more power for themselves with just the one solar deity existing. Both Sol and Galicea (and maybe helio) have been hardcore shaped by their followers, Galiceas wolfish side being repressed by the high elf state of falinell and being brought back through wolfsong, and Sol with the human clerics of highcourt scheming to make him the only god with a sun domain despite him officiating and welcoming Ankarna as his sister in law through the marriage. Plus if we get galicea arcs we defo get Kristin and tracker messy lesbians arcs

-Gorgug perfecting his new subclass he invented and Kristin enjoying being student body president! She deserves it, I hc that the only academic sort of thing Kristin cared about before this year was the lgbtq+ club and now she’s extending that energy into everything with the help of Riz, who cannot get off of coffee someone help this poor boy. And since Ragh and shellford have graduated I want more Torek Railgrinder, she’s so cool let’s flesh her out more. Gorgug thinking about how to teach other multiclass barbarian/artificers and perfecting all his awesome inventions (and dating both Unit and Mary Ann bc it’s what his poly ass deserves)

Basically the potential plot I see for senior year is almost a mirror of sophomore year: baron getting out and fighting Riz and the bad kids defeating him for good, the bad kids heading to leviathan after hearing rumors of a pirate calling themselves a child of Bill Seacaster looking for Fabian, heading to falinell to see what’s new with wolfsong and tracker and maybe seeing some changes in Galicea or Sol, heading to hell and meeting up with Fig for a portion (she doesn’t go to their school anymore! she ain’t gotta go on this senior year spring break quest!) who’s been hanging out in hell, tracking Jace and other enemies, establishing her power as an archdevil of the first layer of hell, writing awesome music, and finally back to sylvaire to figure out what the fuck is up with kalina and arianwen and this weird new god buddy has and they all graduate and head their separate ways but they still love each other and see each other all the time they’re family and they’re badass and they’re perfect

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: The Vampire Prince has run away from home. Coincidentally, a hot guy has passed out on Roier's doorstep.

For Day One of @ender-princee's QSMP AU Week! Idk how many of these I'm going to do, but I wanted to get at least this one done!

-

Since the death of his son, Roier has spent his days peacefully laying in the pond behind his house and watching the clouds. Sometimes he makes up stories for them, sometimes he fills his mouth with water and waits for his lungs to collapse, sometimes he imagines Jaiden on the shoreline sketching the clouds out with Bobby by her side.

It's pretty chill.

He's alone these days. Kinda? Technically, Jaiden lives with him, but he hasn't seen her since the Federation took Bobby away. He thinks that she has an apartment in the city now. Good for her, honestly. If the city makes her happy, then she should be there.

It's very quiet.

Roier's house is in the middle of the woods miles away from the nearest city. He's close to the border between the Human and Vampire Kingdoms, but he doesn't really get many visitors. And that's fine! Really! He doesn't need visitors, he has his pond, and he has his son's grave to talk to when he's lonely.

Every morning at the crack of dawn, Roier goes to the pond. He gets used to the water's temperature first, and then he flops into it face-first and sucks in enough water to make him choke. And then, once he's sputtering for air, he turns onto his back and coughs the water up and falls asleep. By mid-afternoon, he's inside and completely naked and drying his clothes out and trying not to remember what he shouldn't be. And then, in the evening, he's back in the pond just in case some polite water spirit wants to drown him, and then it's inside for bed.

This morning, though, is weird, because there's something blocking Roier's front door from the outside. After a bit of pushing and grumbling, Roier eventually manages to get the door open just to see... a man. A really attractive man: scars, facial hair, the works. A really attractive man just completely passed out and entirely unconscious on Roier's doorstep.

Roier looks at the man. He's pale- too pale to be human. And, adding in the slight point to his ears, that means that this guy? Vampire, 100-percent. So that's cool.

The sun is about to rise, so Roier decides to do his one good deed of the year, and he drags the vampire into his house. It's entirely too easy to do, the man's so light, but who's Roier to judge someone's eating habits when he's barely been making himself one meal a day since Bobby's death? Could be a similar circumstance, who knows?

Once the vampire is settled on a pile of old blankets near the stove, Roier stands up, cracks his neck, and heads outside to go wallow in the pond.

If there's one thing that Roier is besides a bad father and a brilliant chef, it's punctual.

-

It takes two days for the vampire to wake up, and Roier spends those two days in the pond floating and in the forest hunting. He thinks that vampires prefer fresh blood, but he also thinks that this guy won't care what kind of blood he gets after how long he's been passed out.

And he's right! The second the vampire is awake, he's beelining for the jug of deer blood on the table.

Roier, shirtless and drying his clothes by the fireplace after that morning's soak, hardly reacts to the poor guy guzzling down the blood like it's the first thing he's had to eat in days (mostly because it is the first thing he's had to eat in days.) He isn't naked if only for the vampire's comfort, even if it is a little uncomfortable sitting in wet clothes.

Once the vampire is full, he collapses onto a chair at the table with a groan. He leans back, throws his head back, covers his face with his hands, and groans again.

Me, too, Roier thinks.

(He and this vampire could probably be very good friends.)

"What the fuck?" the vampire moans.

Roier shrugs in response, not expecting to be noticed. Does the vampire even know he's there? Probably, vampires can hear heartbeats and stuff.

Eventually, the vampire looks at Roier through his fingers.

"Dude," is the first thing he says to Roier.

And then:

"Why are you shirtless?"

Now, Roier can't exactly say that he's trying to visit his (dead) son, so he just says, "Fell into the pond, man, what does it matter?"

And then, because he's a bit of an asshole, he teases, "What, are you shy?"

"No! I'm just confused!" the vampire quickly responds. "Like, okay. I fainted outside of your door, I guess? And then I wake up, and you're shirtless. It's just a lot, you know?"

Roier nods. "So you are shy. That's fine, I get it."

The vampire's hands fall from his face, and he looks at Roier with slight confusion, slight annoyance, all handsome.

"Where am I?" he asks.

"My house. We're, uhhh... two days' walk from the border? The nearest city is Quesadilla, that's four days' walk."

"Oh," the vampire quietly says.

He looks around the house curiously.

"And you're human?" he asks.

Roier grins. "Yep! Unless my dads have been keeping something from me, anyway."

The vampire lets out a quiet laugh. And then he winces and presses a hand to his ribs.

Roier politely turns back to the fireplace. None of his business...

"I hate to ask you this, but... can I stay here for a little while longer?" the vampire asks. He sounds pained- out of breath, very tense. "I... may have broken my ribs earlier. When I was. Mm, fuck! Out there."

It's very quiet in the woods now that Roier's son is dead and his co-parent is gone. Roier hates the quiet, but he can't really imagine anything else anymore. He doesn't want his guest asking questions when he sees Roier going outside at dawn.

But, like. He feels bad, okay? He remembers being all alone and hurt in the woods after what Spreen did to him, he knows the pain, he knows how fucking annoying it is to be running through a dark forest with a busted rib and a bleeding hole in his chest and back.

So he nods and says, "Sure, man. Stay however long you want. Just don't eat me, eh? I have people who'll miss me."

(He thinks.)

The vampire audibly rolls his eyes. "Vampires don't eat humans, but I guess I won't eat you. You don't look very tasty, anyway."

Hurt, Roier spins around to shout at him in protest with an, "Ayyy!!!", and thus begins what he's sure will be only the first of many arguments.

-

The vampire's name is Cellbit, and he doesn't ask questions. He sleeps for most of the day and spends his nights in the back garden tending to some wildflowers he's decided to cultivate or inside reading.

On his second day awake, he'd told Roier where he had hidden his bag before passing out, and he'd sent Roier to get it. Roier still doesn't know all of what's inside, but he does know that it's one of those special bags that are bigger on the inside, and that Cellbit has a couple of extra sets of clothes and a lot of books in it. He also has a couple of 'blood supplement pills' that are supposed to make him less hungry, but he says those are for emergencies because "they taste like shit".

Cellbit doesn't say anything about his personal life, and he doesn't explain why he ended up hiding his bag and passing out in the middle of the woods so close to the Vampire Kingdom's border with what has turned out to be several broken ribs and a broken fang and a sprained ankle and a black eye, but that's fine. Roier doesn't need to know, just like how Cellbit doesn't need to know all of Roier's baggage.

For Cellbit's sake, Roier doesn't strip naked in the afternoons when he's drying his clothes. Nah, he changes clothes and lets his wet ones dry outside in the sun. And then he lays outside and dries in the sun, and it's almost as relaxing as laying in the pond is.

It's still quiet, but there's a nice buzz in the background all day that almost reminds Roier of when times were better and his son wasn't dead.

Almost.

-

Just after sunset, Cellbit comes outside to water his flowers.

He lets out a pained breath as he kneels down next to them with his makeshift watering can: an old bowl with a hole cut in it, and an even older cup with holes punched to it stuck onto the side of the bowl.

Roier floats.

"You know," he says, "I can go into the city and get you some actual seeds if you're planning on sticking around."

"I thought you said the city was four days away?"

"Yeah, but it's not like I have anything else to do."

(It would give him an excuse to see Jaiden again.)

"Well. I don't need seeds. I like wildflowers for a reason. They get to just... be. No human intervention." A pause. "Or, well, vampire intervention."

Mmm, that sounds like a metaphor for something.

Cellbit waters his flowers. They're pink little things: ruffly like a skirt with white stripes and big, broad leaves. They're pretty, definitely something Tilín would have liked.

Roier's head bumps against the rocky wall of the pond. He grumbles and uses his hand to push himself back towards the pond's center where it's deepest.

"It's nice out here," Cellbit says. "Maybe I'll build a house here. We can be neighbors!"

Roier smiles at the thought. He moved out here with Jaiden and Bobby to get away from the city and all the bastards in it, but he wouldn't mind some company. He likes Cellbit, he thinks. Definitely neighbor-worthy.

...Though the house will be just that little bit quieter.

Maybe he and Cellbit can have their meals together. Or something.

Cellbit grunts as he stands, and then he hobbles over to the pond and sits down. He pulls his socks and shoes off and puts them next to him, he rolls his pants up to his knees, and then he sticks his feet in the water.

Roier gasps, "What, for free?"

He cackles as Cellbit kicks a wave of annoyed water at him. Some water gets in his mouth, but that's fine. Nothing he isn't used to.

-

Roier goes hunting twice a week so Cellbit has blood to eat. Drink? Feed from? Whatever.

He used to hunt more before he moved into the woods with his family. He and Spreen and Missa and Quackity and Mariana would all go out together to the outskirts of the city and see who could bag the biggest deer or the most rabbits, and it was awesome! Spreen always won, but that was just how it was.

Spreen always won.

Every time Roier carves the heart out of a deer and drains its blood, he pretends that it's Spreen's body beneath him. Spreen's final breaths- panicked and pained and pathetic. Spreen's heart- ugly. Spreen's hand holding his and Spreen's voice begging him to stop and Spreen's voice apologizing but not meaning it, never fucking meaning it, because he went too far and he didn't fucking care and-

And then Roier fills a jug with blood and brings it back to the house. Cellbit only needs to feed once a week, supposedly, but Roier likes having extra blood in the house just in case.

Cellbit seems to appreciate the thought, at least. He always brightens when Roier walks into the house with a fresh jug of blood, and he always tries helping Roier go hunting even though he can barely walk on his fucked-up ankle.

He's sweet. Roier almost doesn't want him to go, but he's going to, eventually.

They always do.

-

Roier needs to go into the city to stock up on medicines for the winter, and he tells Cellbit this and asks if Cellbit needs him to stock up on extra blood before he goes.

"I can just go with you," Cellbit replies. He rolls his ankle around in a small circle. "I'm feeling much better, and I want to get some actual gardening stuff."

'And I'll be lonely without you', Roier knows Cellbit's heart is saying, because his own is saying it, too.

...So maybe they're a little codependent already. But it's been almost two full months of them living together, and they're both two very attractive men, and they're both more than a little lonely.

Roier shrugs and agrees, and that's that.

Four days later, they're in Quesadilla, and Roier is at the pharmacy loading a basket full of everything he thinks he might need for the winter. He gets sick easily, and he gets sick often, and he does not want to die alone in a cabin in the woods during his first winter by himself. That would be embarrassing.

Cellbit is at the garden supplies shop down the road, so Roier is by himself as he waits in line to pay. And, because he's a nosy bitch, he listens as the women waiting in line in front of him gossip.

"It's been two months," one says, "he's definitely dead."

The other rolls her eyes. "Vampires can't die, idiot. He's probably just stuck in a dungeon somewhere."

"No, but he should be dead after what he's done," the first woman sniffs. "I hope the Federation dealt with him properly."

Roier stifles a wince at the mention of the Federation; ugh, he hates those guys!

"I don't know," the second woman sighs, "he is a prince. Are they even allowed to arrest princes?"

"See, this is why I'm glad the Human Kingdom has a council and a king. The Federation can arrest anybody breaking the law, and it'll be fine!"

"Well, at least he wasn't the heir to the throne. The Vampire Princess seems like a much more decent person."

"I mean, if our standards for 'decent' are if they're literally evil, then, sure, she's decent. Better than, uh... what did he do again?"

The second woman looks to the first in confusion. "I thought you knew?"

"I thought you did!"

Ignoring their arguing, Roier sneaks around them to cut in line and pay. Whoever they're talking about, Roier likes him. Anybody Cucurucho hates is a friend of Roier's!

-

Jaiden fills him in via a letter that arrives shortly after Roier and Cellbit return to the house. Roier reads it, and he tries not to look at Cellbit as he does so.

'So here's what I've heard,' the letter says. 'The Federation was interested in opening a branch in the Vampire Kingdom's capital city, and the king and queen were kind of into it. Their kids aren't, though. Princess Bagi wants to establish a more settled list of regulations- which Cucurucho is not into, by the way- and Prince Cellbit has been flat-out just arguing with Cucurucho and the other employees up there.

'But here's the thing, Prince Cellbit hasn't actually been seen in months! Cucurucho says that he's being 'dealt with' by his parents, but everybody knows that he's probably actually dead. It sucks for him, but I don't think he should've argued in the first place. I mean, the Federation does good work. If he hates it so much as to kill workers like everybody thinks he's been doing, then maybe he should be dealt with. Not by being killed, obviously, but maybe prison isn't too crazy. Hopefully that's where he ended up.

'Thanks for visiting, by the way. I missed you. I'll try and visit you before the first snow falls. I want to see Bobby one last time before the Solstice.'

Roier tosses the letter into the fire as soon as he's finished reading it.

-

By the time the first snow falls, Cellbit is fine. His ankle is better, his ribs are better, his eye is better. His fang is absolutely fucked, but he doesn't really need it if Roier is filling jars for him.

The pond, unfortunately, is frozen over. Roier sits by it the way he used to with Bobby back when they'd lace up their skates and get ready to go out onto the ice.

After a couple of minutes of dusk, Cellbit comes out to join him with a small smile. Their arms press into each other, and Roier fights the urge to rest his head on Cellbit's shoulder.

"This is my first winter away from home," Cellbit tells him.

"This is my first winter by myself," Roier tells him.

Cellbit looks mildly offended.

Roier smiles at him and gently nudges his side.

"By myself with you, gatinho," he teases. "How could I forget you?"

Cellbit looks positively regal in the snow. The way it settles in his hair looks like lace, his eyes are already as blue as ice. All he needs is a silvery crown, and he could be the Winter King from all the stories Roier heard when he was a kid.

He rolls his eyes and nudges Roier back.

Roier nudges him again.

Cellbit nudges him again, slightly harder.

Roier nudges him with his hands, pushing him over and into the snow.

Moments later, he's being tackled into the snow by a very chilly vampire. He's absolutely freezing, but his face is still very warm as Cellbit pins him down and looks into his eyes with a smile as wide as his handsome face.

Slowly, Cellbit leans his head down. At the same time, Roier props himself up on his elbows, raising his head to meet him. He moves on instinct, heart pounding, eyes fluttering shut.

Chapped lips brush against his, and Roier feels warm aaaalll over.

-

On the day of the Solstice, Roier visits Bobby's grave with a book. Every year, he and Jaiden and Bobby would snuggle together in Bobby's bed and read A Solstice Song to him; he never got into the Solstice spirit, but he loved the ghosts.

Roier clears the snow off of the bench by Bobby's tombstone. He sits, opens the book, and reads.

Hours later when he's finished, he's crawling into bed shivering and crying. He doesn't look at Cellbit, he doesn't do anything except shed his coat and hat and gloves and shoes and drop the book to the floor and get into bed.

A few very hesitant moments later, Cellbit joins him. He stay sitting up, though one of his hands finds its way into Roier's hair.

"'Fred was dead to begin with'," Cellbit reads, "'There is no doubt whatever about that. The register of his burial was signed by the clergyman, the clerk,the undertaker, and the chief mourner. Elena signed it. And Elena’s name was good upon ’Change, for anything she chose to put her hand to.'"

Roier turns to hide his face in Cellbit's side, and he cries.

-

Spring comes, and Roier drains the pond to clean it.

It's as he's knee-deep in mud and dead leaves as the sun sets, and that's when Cellbit comes outside with a guilty look on his face.

"I haven't been totally honest with you," he says.

Roier sighs and sticks his shovel down into the much and leans against it.

"Is this about the Vampire Prince stuff?" he asks. "Because I don't care about any of that. You're my gatinho, and that's all that matters."

Cellbit's entire body freezes. He seems to think for a long, long moment before his shoulders start loosening.

"Oh," he says. He's smart, but he's also stupid. He didn't even give Roier a fake name, gods.

Roier takes pity on him and blows him a kiss that Cellbit gladly catches and pulls to his unbeating heart.

"I don't care what you did," Roier gently says. "I don't care what people say you did. I don't care if you're the prince or some homeless guy I took pity on, you're my Cellbit. As long as you don't hurt me, I don't care."

Cellbit's eyes widen immediately in panic. "What? No, never! I'd never hurt you! I'd hurt for you, but never you. Never."

Roier smiles at him. "See? Problem solved. Now, get a shovel, we need this cleaned and refilled before mid-spring."

Cellbit wrinkles his nose at the mess, but he goes to get his gardening shovel from the shed that he and Roier built.

"Why?" he asks. "What's in mid-spring?"

Roier swallows and looks up at the still-setting sun.

"Bobby's birthday," he answers.

He waves to the setting sun. Goodnight, sweet prince.

[spnbabe67]

So Come And Do It For Me

Kinktober Day 15: Phone Sex (D.W.)

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem Original Character

Warnings: Smut, Fingering, Masturbation (F. described, M. implied), dirty talk, slight power exchange if you squint

Summary: Cabin fever sets in for Tori as the fifth day alone in the Bunker gets to her. Luckily, Dean calls to take care of his girl.

Word Count: 1640

Authors Note: Title inspired by the song Love Me by Ex Habit

Tag List:

@zepskies @king-of-milf-lovers @nightxcreature

Tori hated being injured. Hated the clean, hospital reminiscent smell of the antiseptic wipes. Hated the way the cast material clung to her lower leg, restricting her mobility. She hated laying in bed all day, or sitting at the table in the library when she could be out with Sam and Dean chasing down leads. Most of all, she hated being useless. Tori didn’t care how many times Dean had tried to placate her, telling her that doing research and being whatever law enforcement contact they needed was helpful. She knew better.

She knew there wasn’t any piece of lore Sam couldn’t find in a library or on that laptop of his. Knew that Bobby or even Garth could play FBI/DNR/U.S. Marshall supervisor 10 times better than she could. It felt, lazy, irresponsible even, to stay sequestered in the Bunker when she could be out there helping people. Saving people, hunting things. That was the motto, not ‘take it easy, let your fractured tibia heal”. Doesn’t really have the same ring to it.

Tori had heard her mom use the phrase ‘hurry up and wait’ many times in her youth, but she’d never truly understood the sentiment behind it until now. Not to mention the fact that loneliness was a monster that had carved a hole in her chest, curled itself up and settled in. Tori’d never realized how quiet the Bunker was without Sam and Dean here. Sure the pipes groaned and the building itself whispered and hummed with all the machinery housed under it’s roof. But with her boys gone, there was no bickering, no classic rock blaring in the kitchen, no clinking of bottles in toast. Just the ambient noises that had her feeling smaller than a flea as she hobbled down the long, empty, hallways.

It was probably her imagination, but Tori could have sworn she had started to wear a track between her and Dean’s bedroom, the bathroom, the kitchen and the library. It seemed like weeks they’d been gone, but Tori knew it was barely five days. But the seconds blended into minutes and minutes into hours and the hours turned lonely days into even lonelier nights curled up around one of Dean’s flannels she’d shoved onto a pillow in an attempt to pretend it was his chest she fell asleep upon. 

That’s where she was, on her third time rereading the same page in the novel she started, when her cell phone buzzed on the nightstand. Tori sighed, knowing it was Dean on the other end of the line. He called her each night around this time. It warmed her heart, gave her something to look forward to at the end of the day, days that would otherwise bleed together with the lack of sunlight in the Bunker, given the lack of windows; even with the crutches Sam had ran out and got her, she was still too awkward on her feet to try and brave the stairs, feeling a little too much like Bambi than her pride would allow her to acknowledge.

Tori smiled to herself as she accepted the call, bringing her phone to her ear. “Hey.” She greeted him.

“Hey, Sweetheart.” Dean’s voice was soft even though it was slightly distorted over the phone. “How’s my girl today?” 

Tori shrugged, facing a few seconds of silence before she remembered that duh Dean couldn’t see her. “Eh. It’d be better if I was there with you and Sam.”

“I know, Sweetheart, I know.”

Tori shoved away the sadness she felt creeping in at the edges. “How are things going?”

She listened attentively as Dean recounted how he and Sam were tracking some obscure monster from some mythology even Tori hadn’t heard of. Sam, living up to his ‘Boy Genius’ nickname, had found the monster's M.O. in some archaic text buried in the back of the town's library, all of the methods matching to a ‘T’. The hard part, according to Dean, was finding the sucker. 

“I have faith in you Baby.” Tori murmured, rolling from her side onto her back, slinging the hand she wasn’t using to hold the phone to her ear, over her stomach.

“I have faith in you too, Sweetheart.” Dean answered, and Tori could faintly hear what she could only assume was the motel bed’s springs squeak as Dean must have sat down. “You’re so strong, and so brave. You’ll be back out here with us in no time.”

Tori sighed. “I know.” She toyed with the material of her sweatshirt. “I really miss you, De.”

The praise falling from Dean’s lips, traveling across the telephone lines to her ears, had Tori squirming in their bed, heat rushing between her thighs. With Dean gone and the lack of motivation plaguing her, Tori was revved up way too easily. 

“I know Sweetheart. I miss you too.”

“Dean.” Tori could hear her voice become breathy as she toyed with the waistband of the boxers she stole from Dean to wear while he was gone. “I really miss you.”

She could practically see the smirk she knew was forming on her lover's face. The rustling of clothes over the receiver turned her on even more, knowing what Dean was doing. Sam must have been out or the boys had gotten separate rooms for Dean to readily be available to do this with her. Either way, Tori wasn’t gonna question it, grateful that Dean was raring to go just like she was. She knew he was missing her just as badly as she was missing him. He hated leaving her alone, regardless of if it was on a hunt or a simple grocery run.

“You touchin’ yourself Baby?” Dean’s voice had gotten a shade thicker, that gravelly intonation in her ear sending shocks of arousal on a straight shot to her core. 

Tori slid her hand beneath the cotton boxers to slide a nimble finger down the seam of herself. “Mmhm.” She hummed, tipping her head back against the pillow, the movement wafting Dean’s cologne to envelope her. 

“Good girl.” Dean practically growled into the receiver. “I want you to rub that pretty clit of yours real slow, okay?”

Tori suppressed a whine. She didn’t want to go slow, and she knew Dean knew that. Her back arched up off the bed at the first contact of her middle finger against her dully throbbing clit. Behind her eyes she imagined Dean sprawled out on the motel bed, his handsome cock gripped in those big hands of his. She imagined those hands all over her body, one taking the place of her own rubbing small circles around her puffy clit.

“How’s that feel?” His voice caressed the shell of her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.

“G-Good. Wish it was you touchin’ me, De.” Tori moaned softly as her ministrations had her bucking her hips up, chasing her own hand.

“I’m right here, Sweetheart.” With the phone pressed flush against her ear, it was almost like he was here with her. “I want you to slip one of your fingers inside that tight pussy for me. Keep it slow, Sweetheart. I want you to feel yourself. Take your time with it.”

Her lips parted, mouth dropping open as she thumbed her clit, freeing her middle finger to slip inside herself. Tori curled her finger upwards, her inner walls clenching around the digit as she brushed against that spot that had her moaning unabashedly. Dean praised her, his own voice breathy and raw. She could occasionally hear wet sounds as Dean fucked his fist. The erotic image that conjured spurred her movements, pistoning her finger in and out of herself, adding her ring finger once Dean instructed her to. Her fingers didn’t fill her quite as nicely as Dean’s, but this wouldn’t be the first time she explored her own body, inside and out. Tori ground her hips against her hand, thumb still strumming away at her clit in time with curling her fingers in a come-hither motion. 

“That’s it, Baby. Fuck yourself on your fingers. I bet you look so pretty like this, your fingers shoved to the knuckle in that pretty pink pussy. Wish I was there to lick your taste off of them.”

Tori moaned shakily, unable to form a coherent sentence in the face of the pure filth Dean was whispering in her ear. Her inner walls began to throb around her fingers, that too-good feeling starting to flood her lower belly. She whined his name, her thighs starting to shake, her hips thrusting erratically against her hand.

“I know Baby, me too.” Dean moaned to her. “Just a little longer. Be a good girl and wait for me.”

Tori whined into the receiver, trying to hold back the immense wave of pleasure cresting inside her. She panted, sweat beading on her forehead as she held back her orgasm. Tori moaned his name in a seemingly unbroken loop, a plea for him to give her the word. She cried out, nearly sobbing as Dean gave her the word, her legs going lazy, hips wildly bucking against her fingers as she came. Dean’s guttural moan as he came had her clenching down like a vice around her fingers. 

Tori sighed satisfactorily, pulling her fingers from under her boxers. “I love you, De.” She mumbled sleepily.

“I love you too, Tor.” Dean panted, his voice thick with affection. “I’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Okay.” Tori mumbled, already feeling her eyelids grow heavy. “Be safe and come home to me.”

“I will, Baby. I’ll see you soon.”

Tori murmured more I love you’s before hanging up the call. She sighed, smiling as she tugged the Dean-pillow closer, burying her face into the flannel, dreams of Dean and a promise of seeing him soon lulling her to sleep.

[saryasy]

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

[missmarveledsblog]

A KIND OF SEX EDUCATION ( PART THREE) ( PLATONIC Cas , winchesters x reader)

SUMMARY : Cas finds onlyfans , all it not what it seems though

warning : its just pure crack and fun

Turns out even as traumatising as the last time of cas curiosities didn’t actually have too bad of out come and as much as she had hated to admit dean was right about them dating . although never in the bunker was it peaceful for too long . turns out bobby was her dad and she learned new thing about her parents no child should ever learn …ever. 

Something else was different too every night at 8 pm cas would disappear off into his room even when on hunt he would head off some where always at 8pm , of course they were curious  but after last few ordeal with the angel well the curiosity was just not enough to investigate . well until ..

“ i am in love and i think it time i brought her here” he said  completely out of the blue . 

“ you have a girlfriend good job buddy … don’t show her your internet history though” dean snorted only for y/n to slap him in back of the head. 

“ she’s real right?” sam asked needing clarifications after poor guy fell for an A.i bot . 

“ she’s very real we talk every night at 8pm . 

“ that’s great cas maybe we can go for a double date sometime “ y/n beamed more for the fact it probably the most normal interaction she had with the angel in what felt forever . 

“ i shall ask her although she said friends cost extra” he said heading off to his room as they all shared a look. 

“ who the hell is spending 500 dollars a night on …” bobby called. 

“ you go in i’m not going in , i’m always the one here for this shit” she argued as three stood out his door. 

“ oh for fuck sake  i’m moving out” she whined. 

......

“ you’re nicer though he listens to you and better than him he’ll break his heart” sam reasoned . 

“ why aren’t you in the equations” she scoffed. 

“ i don’t want to deal with it to be honest” sam huffed. 

“ how about we all go talk to him i mean plus lets see what she like she could be nice gal for all we know” dean grinned. 

“ do you like having a girlfriend” she glared . 

“ point taken you should take this one” he smiled pushing her into the room. 

“ another tip from my angel any requests” the voice called as y/n was ready to burst into tears thinking maybe wifi in the bunker was over rated.

“ hey cas i need to erm talk to you it’s urgent” . 

“ why are you're eyes covered if its urgent” she could already picture his tilted head and confused face but she was afraid just incase his little saint was out awaiting . “ i got to go my love i will come back tomorrow” he called as silence filled the room god this was going to like shooting bambi’s mother. 

“ he’s dressed sweetheart” was all dean voice said echoing down the  hall. 

“ oh thank fuck , hey buddy can we talk” she asked softly and wishing she was well anywhere else. 

“ of course it is urgent” he nodded. 

“ jesus how do i go about this?” she sighed rubbing her temples. 

“ are you pregnant? I noticed the little weight but i didn’t want to mention it” he looked down at her stomach. 

“ getting less hard , no i’m not pregnant may need to go on a diet though… nevermind cas whats your loves name?” she shook her head staying on point albeit less confident then before .

“Angel lady six nine” he beamed proudly . 

“ oh you poor sap it’s sixty nine  not the the point cas have you talk with her like in person or …” . 

“ on only fans gabriel sent me the link said it was a website for meeting exciting women and now i met my love and she makes me so happy … and it make my hands want to do the thing i see ” he smiled . 

“ well i’m glad, good chatting buddy” she backed out the room definitely not the one to be dealing with this . 

So now here sam was while dean was telling y/n she wasn’t fat.  He could do it rip the bandaid off but provide some sort of comfort maybe bring him somewhere to meet real woman that wouldn’t send them to the poor house. 

“ hey cas can we talk” he smiled awkwardly seeing the angel eyes locked on screen .

“ of course it seems as everyone wants to do that tonight” he place it down as sam caught a glimpse of the page he was on . 

“ your love isn’t well actually love” he cut to the point . 

“ why not she tells me all the time” his head tilted like a confused puppy. 

“ that’s cause you give her five hundred dollars a night i mean she call you king of the world for that sort of money” . 

“ she shows me her things like…” he began to explain. 

“ i don’t need to know that .. but she not really in love with you buddy just the money you give her?” sam asked watching his reaction seeing the cogs turn in the mans head. 

“  i don’t get it” he finally said. 

“ ok… goodnight” sam huffed walking out as dean stormed  . 

“ hello dean” cas smiled. 

“ ok buddy you're dating a prostitute electronically needs to stop or we can’t buy pie so stop wasting the money online great talk buddy” he shut the door as the other two watched him walk off in victory . 

“ nothing wrong with earning money like that woman power ,  just not ours cas” y/n winced at her boyfriends way with words following after. 

They sat worried as cas never showed up for breakfast  , y/n even checked to see his room empty to which sam said to give him space. 

“ jesus your right that was like shooting bambi” sam called heading in the same direction. 

......

“ but what if we made him run away” she pouted. 

“ he’s literally older than all of us and an angel” dean shrugged. 

“ but he’s a baby in a trench coat you say it all time” she pointed out . 

“ the kitchen is through here , would you like a drink” the voice called out. 

“ oh water is fine” a female voice replied as the two appeared making them not only drop their jaws but whatever was in their face as the woman followed behind. 

“ is that…” she whispered. 

“ the hook..OWW” Dean yelled as y/n kicked him . 

“This my love  angel , angel these are my friends who think your a hooker”  cas said as sam choked on his drink.

“We don’t think your a hooker” y/n smiled weakly . 

“ actually we do  onlyfans means one thing … not that i would know i’ve never seen it before” dean corrected himself as his girlfriend glared. 

“ you know people do other things on onlyfans not only sexwork right “ angel crossed her arms. 

“ come on angel sixty nine” dean scoffed. 

“ six point nine my birthday is the 9th of june” she answered.

“ look we don’t slut shame but you make his hands wanna move” sam pointed out . 

“ to teach him to draw” she gasped .

 “ five hundred dollars to paint really cas” bobby walked in. 

“ he doesn’t pay me a dollar” angel pointed out . 

“ where our money going then” y/n brow furrow. 

“ wait that’s real money i though it was pretend money” jack walked in with his tablet showing them the gambling site he was on . 

“Wait so she's not a hooker” dean asked confused. . 

“ sorry angel” the called in unison .

" we're getting rid of the wifi i can't be dealing with this shit" y/n called heading out the room .

@pizzagirlxnsfwx hope you enjoy part three :)

[castiwls]

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.

[scoobydoodean]

so the mind wipe was a bad move in context, i think most people will agree with that (i agree with you that it was the worst thing dean did). but beyond that, it barely even makes sense logistically unless you extrapolate that cas removed every piece of evidence of dean from their lives, phones, house, and friends’/neighbors’ memories… so how do you think they should’ve handled lisa and ben’s exit?

Setting aside how unfeasible it seems to truly erase Dean from their lives, it also just doesn't make sense to me because I don't understand how or why that would ever stop people from using them to hurt Dean. Like I guess they make it in the show as if it did in fact work (and it's better than the alternative the show likely would have come up with of killing them off) but why on earth would someone like Crowley for example not use Lisa and Ben still to hurt Dean just because they don't remember him??? They don't have to remember him for them to be used against him??

Like from Dean's perspective though, I think it was was about erasing the "poison". Like he felt he was this monster whose presence had ruined their lives irreparably, and by erasing himself from their lives as if he never existed, he could erase the "ruinous" impact he had on them. I think one of the biggest catalysts for this is ultimately having to put a gun in Ben's hand. When Ben expressed interest in Dean's gun collection in 6.02, Dean swore that Ben would never shoot a gun. Dean appears to have a lot of trauma tied up in his childhood experience with firearms. Lots of American kids grow up shooting, but for sport at targets and usually starting with BB guns. Dean was taken shooting (presumably real guns) for the first time when he was "six or seven" years old (2.06) and when he was taken to do that, he knew he was being trained to become a killer—to hunt monsters and to defend his brother—and John was proud. Dean repeats the story to Jo fondly (because what Jo wanted was a fond story—and Dean really struggles to deliver one because of what he's going through at the time), but there's something melancholic too, and this moment in 6.02 puts that in context, as does 3.10 where Dean expresses all the pent up hurt he feels at being treated as a solider and a weapon by his father, as does 1.18 where Dean is no older than 10 and left alone with Sam for days with a shotgun to defend them both. There's fear that has to be buried there and experiences with violence or the threat of it that Dean simply wasn't psychologically equipped to deal with. Most(arguably all) adults aren't equipped to handle that kind of stress and he was a child. So having to put a gun in Ben's hand so he could aid in defending his own mother was the greatest betrayal toward Ben's right to be a child that Dean could imagine and he HAD to erase it because he couldn't deal with the idea of Ben holding onto even a tenth of the childhood trauma that Dean has.

At the same time, Dean is so caught up in self-hatred and the idea of himself as a ruinous force that he loses track of boundaries and that it isn't his right to decide. And one of the repeated things echoed by Lisa and Ben that Dean never really allows himself to absorb is that they truly loved him and they didn't want to trade the experience of loving him despite the hardships. Lisa was very clear about this in 6.01 and 6.02, and so was Ben in 6.14 (though I don't think he understands all the dynamics in play no matter how much he insists he did).

I don't have a real opinion on anything that should have been done instead. It isn't something I would change just because I don't think Dean made a morally right choice but it is true that it doesn’t make much logical sense. From a practical safety perspective, I think it would have made more sense and been pretty interesting if Dean erased his own memories of them. This would still be in theme with Sam's wall and Cas's secrets and Bobby and Sam hiding Sam being alive and how we hide things to protect ourselves or others (and isn't all the talk from Cas and Death about protecting Sam from his own traumatic memories also probably an influence on Dean's decision to erase himself from Lisa and Ben's reality?). But I think ultimately, Dean wouldn't erase his memory because he would see carrying that experience with him as a "lesson" with scars he needed to bear so he'd never let that desire for a home cloud his judgement ever again and ruin someone's "normal" life.

[ramons-elevator]

Thinking about the remaining OG Eggs

Thinking about Chayanne being the eldest and having the mentality of a warrior. How guilty he feels about putting all of his siblings in danger when he received the threat. How he is arguably one of the most clingy eggs, always being with Phil and Tallulah, and gets bad anxiety when he is away from them. How he blamed himself for his siblings dying and saying he failed. How he cooks and provides for his siblings and family and makes sure they are safe. How whenever he sees his siblings he always checks up on them and makes sure they are okay. How Phil raised him on Hardcore mode and how careful he has to be.

Thinking about Ramon being very independent and curious and knows that so much weights on his shoulders. How Ramon loves explosives and probably is the egg with the most ‘downs’, but yet loves flowers and cats with his whole heart. How Ramon saved his siblings due to him investigating, only to basically have a panic attack in Fit’s Gym and thinking he hasnt done anything useful. How Ramon nearly died because he wanted to save his siblings from getting killed by the Code. How he knows about Fit’s mission and created a giant satellite for him because he doesnt want his Dad to go back to that hellscape.

Thinking about Dapper and how he is smart, resourceful, kind and yet self sacrificing and scared. How Dapper was hunted by the Code Monster more than any other egg. How Dapper grew up in paranoia and moving around, keeping all his stuff in his backpacks. How Dapper made his siblings proper graves and visits them every month to sing happy birthday to them. How Dapper was hurting himself and experimenting so he could make things useful for others. How Dapper has been writing down notes and information about plants and animals so people can use that after he dies. How Dapper couldnt celebrate his sister's birthday because it was the same day he died and it consumed him for that day.

Thinking about Leo being the youngest out of their remaining siblings and how much she love she has in her tiny eggshell. How Leo went out of her way to give Chayanne a hug when they woke up from their comas because Chayanne protected her the whole time. How Leo shot out of her bed that one time Bobby was downed and was begging Foolish to go help Bobby even though they had no way to get to him. How Leo built giant pixel art around Foolishs dragon and how every part of Foolish’s base and the surrounding area around it was decorated by Leo. How Leo was one of the first people to arrive to Ramons house to try to save Ramon during his nightmare and held Ramon’s dead body, refusing to even move an inch away from him ; later on hopelessly begging Foolish to revive Ramon like he did earlier with one of her pets.

Thinking about the remaining OG eggs and how they watched their siblings die over and over again. Thinking about all of them surviving on one life basically since the beginning. Thinking about how they watched this island unfold into horrible prison, just like their parents did. Thinking about how they had death knocking on their door multiple times and yet are still alive. Thinking about how much they love and care about each other. Thinking about how much of themselves are spread all across the island.

Chayanne, Leo, Dapper, and Ramon are the oldest siblings, but they are still kids. They had to grow up too fast and fight for so long. They have been through hell and back. They all feel responsible for their younger siblings and want to protect them as much as possible. They've always had the weight on the world on their shoulders.

Chayanne and the Triplets grew up in a world that hated them, but never stopped giving love back to the world.