#jensen ackles angst
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soldiersgirl · 1 day ago
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— 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮 .ᐟ
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summary — life had always been cruel to ben; littered with betrayals, heartbreak, guts & glory. somehow, despite it all, the one thing he thought he had lost and could never experience, turned out to be his saving grace. (inspired by this post)
cw — fem!reader x girl dad!soldier boy, 18+ (hints of sex, wrap it before u tap it) established relationship (married). soft ben, fluff, angst, kissing, daddy kink (kinda), smoking, mentions of daddy and mommy, mentions of ben's trauma and war, mentions of drug use.
word count — 2,138 words
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ben couldn't count on one hand the amount of trials and tribulations he had been subjected to over his long, arduous existence, but he needed the other one to hold and keep himself anchored to you.
it had all started out innocently. much like the other members of the boys, you were indifferent to ben. but soon enough, you discovered that you two couldn't stand each other, let alone be in the same room without going at it and screaming about "the importance of having a moral backbone" while he told you to go "shove your fuckin' modern values!" in return. but as time does with most things, it eats away at anger and suddenly, after a long day at the office and going over missions, you would retreat to the roof together and share a cigarette between the two of you. words were rarely spoken, but you grew to understand each other just a little bit more with each inhale and exhale of your shared vice.
his complexity perplexed you and you found yourself wishing to understand the man under the armour. how ben had become soldier boy and lost himself along the way.
during one particular cold night, up on the flatiron building roof, he laid it all out to you. he had told hughie and butcher a few bits, here and there, but you got the full picture. all you did was nod in return, not offering any comments like others did. ben couldn't read you and it freaked him the fuck out. he had quite the knack for getting under people's skin and staying there, gnawing on their insecurities and break them down. but when you comfortingly laid your hand on his and he didn't flinch, he knew there was something about you that he possibly wouldn't find again.
within a few tough and challenging months, for both of you and the boys as a team, you and ben had turned to finding comfort in one another. each night, either at his place or yours, you would intertwine your limbs and entangle your tongues with no care for the world around you. he would get lost in your gentle mewls, your soft pleading as he would pound into you and fulfil all your dirtiest fantasies, without a second thought.
you managed to keep your... situation quiet for a while from the others, knowing that no one would approve of it; why complicate things when everything is a already a nightmare with vought and homelander? but when the boys abruptly came back from a mission and walked in on ben taking you from behind on your own desk; you knew you couldn't keep it under wraps anymore. hell broke loose. insults were hurled. computers were thrown, mainly by ben, and you were both told that it wouldn't last long. but you managed to prove them wrong; much to your own surprise.
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loving ben wasn't a walk in the park. nothing about ben was ever easy. but when your fingers interlocked and he bared his soul to you, all his worst nights were worth it. the nights filled with long discussions, ingrained toxic reflexes, harsh empty words.
"you need to cut off the fucking pills, ben! i swear to god, i'm gonna flush them down the fuckin' toilet!" you yelled as you held the baggie over the toilet, shaking them, daring him to come closer.
"you're batshit! actually, insane! i should've listened to butcher when he said i shouldn't get involved with someone like you!" he pointed his finger accusingly, a deep scowl on his face.
always turned into...
"i'll never find someone like you." ben sighed as he cradled you close, your heartbeats in sync and your breaths shallow after you furiously apologise to each other. you peer up at him and caress his exhausted face, loving how he leans in and seeks your touch.
"i love you." you stated. his eyes flew open, revealing his moss-green irises as they softened at the sight of you. he exhaled as if the weight of the world fell off his shoulders and his usual scowl turned into a wide, toothy smile as he rested his forehead against yours.
"i love you too, sweetheart." he kissed the tip of your nose and nestled himself deeper into you. he loved you like he did everything else; fiercely and loudly and he was sure he could never love someone like he did you. until he met her.
for weeks and weeks, this was the moment it had all been leading up to this. the final showdown between ben and homelander. you had felt incredibly nauseous for weeks, watching ben the boys strategise and devise their attack plans. it must the anxiety, the fear of the great unknown beyond their fight. until you couldn't deny it anymore. three pregnancy tests stared back at you, the severity of the situation seeped into your bones and overtaking your senses.
you stepped out and admired ben's broad back as he pulled on his suit, buckled his knee pads and gave his shield the once over before sliding it onto his back.
"are you gonna stand there all day or am i a lucky enough of a bastard to get a kiss from my girlfriend?" he hummed before turning around and giving you that infamous smirk. his smile faltered immediately as he noticed your frail composure and the look of absolute fear etched on your face. "baby. don't be nervous about the fight, come on. don't you trust your old man?" he chuckles before dragging you in and kissing the top of your head as a gesture of reassurance. "i got the boys with me, don't i darling? they've got my back."
they definitely didn't have his back.
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"when's your daddy coming, sweetheart?" the kindergarten teacher perched next to the pigtailed girl with those captivating green eyes that everyone couldn't help but compliment.
"sweetheart?" the girl giggled as she eyed the playground, waiting for her dad to appear at any moment, like mum had promised he would today. "that's mommy's name, daddy says so all the time. i'm athena!!" she flashed her toothless grin and giggled even louder.
"ah, yes. sorry, athena. i got confused!" the teacher shook her head and feigned confusion, returning the young girl's smile. as if on cue, the intimidating father figure entered the classroom and the young girl wasted no time sprinting and latching onto his leg as he lets out a low chuckle. he picks her up effortlessly and rests her on his hip as he looks apologetically at the teacher.
"i'm sorry, ma'am." his gruff voice filled the classroom which is usually filled with high-pitched laughs and soft tones. "i got.. held up at work." athena pats her father's stubbled cheeks and let out a shriek of laughter as his free hand pokes at her stomach, his eyes fully on her with a smile to match.
"mr. anderson, it was really no issue. i love spending time with athena, don't worry about it."
"ben. ben is fine." he corrects. "alright. well, say goodbye to miss smith, athena. time to go home to mommy." athena waves wildly as ben offers miss smith a curt nod before leaving the colourful classroom. miss smith couldn't help but laugh to herself; somehow the toughest man became the softest father.
the fight had taken a turn for the worst. everyone had turned on each other. chaos ensued and ben was left with no option to erupt and unleash himself on everyone. luckily, with shaking hands and a trembling voice, you had called grace mallory and begged for her help. for her to make you and ben disappear so you could start again, give him what he always yearned for a loving family. that's how you ended up in south philadelphia, ben's home state. despite his denial to face and confront his past, he knew it was something he needed to be able to become the father he wanted. the father he knew he could be. it wasn't hard to do a better job than his own father, but once he regained consciousness after the fight and you shared the news you were too scared to share before, suddenly... all of ben's betrayals, heartaches and suffering became obsolete. all that mattered was you... and her.
ben wasn't made to work under normal conditions, being in an office and stuck at a desk felt like a punishment. like a wild animal trapped in a cage. he wanted the normal life he knew he could've had if he never had become soldier boy, but no matter what, ben was a weapon before he was a man. while you and athena settled into a comfortable daily life, ben was sent on solitary missions by mallory and the CIA. it was the least he could do after the fuckfest that went down in nicaragua all those years ago, mallory had explained. it was the only way the CIA would agree to help him and his family, so he begrudgingly accepted.
you pulled a pink pyjama top over athena's wriggling form before pulling her in and giving her rushed kisses all over her soft face.
"mammaaaa!" she yelled in defiance as her giggles grew louder and pushed away at your quick, planted kisses. you pulled back, gave her a large smile and brushed her wet hair carefully after her nightly shower.
"mummy couldn't help herself. you're too cute, 'thena." you laughed in return before braiding her hair and tucking her into bed, surrounded by her army of stuffed teddy bears. the soft glow of her sunset lamp cast a warm, orange hue over her cherub face as you gazed into those eyes that you could get lost in.
"can you tell me about where i got my name again, mamma?" athena whispers into her hands, knowing it was already past her bedtime. you open your mouth to tell her no, but a gruff voice from behind interrupts you.
"daddy can do it." ben had been leaning against his daughter's door frame with folded arms and admiring the sight of the two of you, not fully believing how lucky he had gotten. he saunters in, gives you a big kiss on your lips (followed with an "eeew..." by athena) before he sits down carefully on her heart-filled bed covers and holds her tiny hand in his.
"when daddy used to be a soldier, many many years ago before he met you, daddy was in many wars. he worked hard to protect his country and he was always protected by athena. athena helped daddy when he needed to be brave and clever to get the bad people to go back home. like those fuc-." you let out a small cough. he pauses and his eyes flicker to you, as you offer him a warm smile; encouraging him to continue. you let your hand run up and down his back, relaxing him. "fudging commies." he continues. "athena was zeus' favourite daughter, like you are mine." he continues and kisses her small knuckles. "she was the wisest, bravest olympian god and she cared for people, like daddy, when daddy needed it most."
all soldiers need a war, but not the way that ben needed his little athena.
ben's smooth voice had lulled athena into a slumber, her eyes lidded and her lips in a natural pout as her head hung. ben tucked her in tightly and placed a brief kiss on her forehead as you turned off the lights.
"daddy loves both of his girls." he whispers into her hair before quietly leaving her room and joining you in the hallway.
"oh, daddy loves his girls, huh?" you wink and stretch your arms up around his neck. his hands fall naturally into place, on your hips, as you sway slightly together with identical smirks on your faces.
"if you're not careful, sweetheart, daddy will have to teach you a lesson." he gives your ass a light slap.
"how could i say no to you, daddy?" you hum as you bite your bottom lip.
"you're so fuckin' dirty. bet you've been thinking about me all day, haven't you?" he chuckles as you lead him into your joint bedroom, swiftly closing the door behind you and connecting your lips in a frenzied kiss. "daddy will take care of you, sweetheart. lay back and show daddy how much you missed him." ben mutters against your slick lips before throwing you onto your bed and climbing on top of you, his hands gliding across your form and grabbing you with a sense of urgency that you never got tired of.
after all this time, you were still into him, who you watched finally find himself amongst the chaos of his life.
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a/n: in my mind, months pass between the boys finding ben and the showdown between him and homelander, rather than only a few days, so that's where this takes place. also couldn't resist writing a girldad! ben as jensen is just the best father ever <3 and still into you is my favourite lovesong ever. hope u enjoyed!
-`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @kayleighwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @cowboysandcigarettes @daylighted @valjy @dulcescorderitas @mostlymarvelgirl @syrma-sensei (comment or inbox me to be added)
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deansbeer · 24 days ago
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♡ under wraps ⎯⎯ jackles.
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
📖 LIBRARY !
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SYNOPSIS. you and jensen keep your fiery, forbidden relationship secret—until lingering tension threatens your composure.
WARNING(S). smut | f!reader | costar!jensen | costar!reader | rough sex | secrecy | forbidden relationship | explicit language | descriptions of lingering physical sensations | dressing room sex | mentions of jensen's cum (?) | sexual tension | teasing | slight power imbalance | light objectification | no use of y/n.
kari talks ◞ everyone thank daddy dolly for giving me the idea of fucking costar!jensen behind the scenes <33 he's so yummy in this photo and what i had envisioned in my head the entire time writing it :) am i slut for daddy jackles ??? fuck yeah i am. n a proud slut too.
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it's a dangerous fucking game you're playing with jensen.
you'd known it from the start. the second you walked onto the set of countdown—a brand-new, high-stakes action series—you felt the pull. it wasn't just his looks, though those were undeniable. it was the way he carried himself, the way his eyes lingered just a beat too long when you first shook hands, the way his deep, gravelly voice curled around your name like it belonged to him.
you weren't supposed to fall for him. hell, you weren't supposed to even look at him like that. but he made it impossible, especially when the two of you were cast as love interests on the show.
the chemistry was instant, explosive. every scene you filmed together felt like a live wire, and it didn't take long before you crossed that unspoken line.
it started with a kiss that wasn't scripted.
you were supposed to pull away after a brief, chaste kiss during a rehearsal, but neither of you did. his lips pressed harder, his hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer until the director called cut.
"jesus christ," jensen muttered under his breath that day, his voice low enough only for you to hear. he didn't let go of you right away, his green eyes dipping to your lips.
that was the moment everything shifted.
now, weeks later, you're tangled up in a secret relationship that's equal parts thrilling and dangerous. nobody on set knows, or at least you don't think they do. you and jensen are careful—no lingering touches in public, no stolen glances when others are watching.
but behind closed doors?
he's got you screaming his name, your nails raking down his back as he fucks you so thoroughly you can't see straight.
like now.
you're in his dressing room, pressed up against the wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he thrusts into you. his hand is gripping your ass, the other tangled in your hair as his lips claim yours in a bruising kiss.
"you're so fucking perfect," he growls against your mouth, his breath hot and ragged. "can't fucking get enough of you."
your nails dig into his shoulders as you moan his name, your body shuddering as he drives into you relentlessly. the sound of skin slapping against skin fills the small room, mingling with your breathless cries and his low, filthy grunts.
you're so close, teetering on the edge, when there's a knock at the door.
"jensen?" a voice calls out. "they need you on set in five."
he freezes, his forehead dropping to yours as he lets out a frustrated groan.
"fuck," he mutters, his voice laced with irritation.
you're still clinging to him, your breath coming in short, uneven gasps as you try to ground yourself.
"you've got to go," you whisper, your voice hoarse.
he pulls back just enough to look at you, his green eyes dark with lust.
"you're lucky we don't have more time," he says, his lips quirking into a smirk. "because i'm not done with you."
he sets you down gently, his hands lingering on your hips for a moment before he steps back. you quickly fix your clothes, your cheeks flushed as you try to compose yourself.
"you good?" he asks, his voice softening as he watches you.
you nod, though your legs feel like jelly, and your pulse is still racing.
"yeah," you manage to say, your voice steadier than you feel.
he leans in, brushing a quick kiss against your lips before heading toward the door.
"see ya out there, sweetheart," he says with a wink before slipping out of the room.
the interview is with one of your other castmates, a lighthearted segment for a popular entertainment show to promote the series. you're sitting next to jensen, the two of you positioned on a plush couch with your co-star on the other side.
you're trying to focus, you really are, but your body is still buzzing from what just happened in his dressing room. every time you catch a whiff of his cologne or hear the low rumble of his voice, you feel heat pool in your stomach all over again.
it doesn't help that he's sitting so damn close, his thigh brushing against yours every time he shifts.
but the worst part?
you can still feel him.
you'd barely had time to clean yourself up before rushing out of his dressing room, and now, sitting here in front of the cameras, you can feel the ghost of him between your legs. the dull ache he left behind, the way your panties are damp, not just with your own arousal but with a little of him. it's driving you insane, every slight shift in your seat sending a fresh wave of heat curling through your body.
you cross your legs, trying to ignore it, but the movement only makes you more aware of everything—how sensitive you still are, how wet you still are, and how much you need him all over again.
the interviewer is a bubbly woman in her early thirties, her smile bright as she asks questions about the show.
"so, jensen," she says, turning her attention to him. "your character and [___]'s character have this incredible chemistry. what was it like working together to build that connection?”
you can feel his eyes on you, and you force yourself to smile, keeping your gaze fixed on the interviewer.
"oh, it was easy," jensen says, his voice smooth and confident. "she's an incredible actress. makes my job a hell of a lot easier."
you can feel the heat creeping up your neck, and you hope it doesn't show.
"what about you, [___]?" the interviewer asks, turning to you. "what was it like working with jensen?"
"it was great," you say, your voice steady despite the way your heart is pounding. "he's so talented and professional. he really made me feel comfortable on set."
jensen smirks at that, and you can feel his eyes lingering on you.
"so there was no awkwardness?" the interviewer presses, her tone playful. "no funny moments during the more, uh, intimate scenes?"
you let out a small laugh, shaking your head.
"not really," you say, though your voice sounds a little higher than usual. "we just tried to stay focused."
jensen chuckles beside you, and the sound sends a shiver down your spine.
"we're professionals," he says with a wink at the interviewer, who blushes slightly under his gaze.
you shift in your seat again, trying to ignore the way your body is reacting to him. but jensen notices. of course he does.
his hand is resting on his thigh, his fingers drumming lightly against the fabric of his jeans. it's a small, subtle movement, but it's enough to make your breath hitch.
he glances at you out of the corner of his eye, a cocky smirk tugging at his lips when he sees the way you're squirming.
"something wrong, darlin'?" he murmurs under his breath, low enough that only you can hear.
you shoot him a glare, but it lacks any real heat.
"asshole," you mutter back, your voice barely audible.
he chuckles softly, turning his attention back to the interviewer as if nothing happened.
the rest of the interview passes in a blur, your focus shot to hell thanks to the man sitting beside you.
the second the interview wraps, you grab jensen by the arm and drag him back to his dressing room, ignoring the curious looks from the crew as you pass.
"someone's in a hurry," he teases, his voice dripping with amusement as you shove him inside and close the door behind you.
"shut up," you snap, your voice breathless as you push him against the wall.
his hands are on you in an instant, pulling you flush against him as his lips crash into yours. the kiss is rough, desperate, and you can feel the smirk on his lips as you tug at his shirt.
"needy lil' thing, aren't you?" he murmurs against your lips, his hands sliding down to grip your ass.
"you started it," you shoot back, your voice muffled as you kiss him again, your teeth grazing his bottom lip.
he groans, his grip tightening as he spins you around, pressing you against the wall.
"you're right," he says, his voice low and rough as his lips trail down your neck. "'n now i'm gonna finish it."
his hands are everywhere, sliding under your shirt, tugging at your jeans, leaving you breathless and trembling as he takes exactly what he wants.
and you let him.
because with jensen ackles, you'll gladly play the dangerous game.
every. single. time.
ϑ𝛠 SPECIAL TAGS. @titsout4jackles @floralscented @aileenunfiltered @deanswidow @lacydollette @beausling @figthoughts @frosttbitessam @bluestrd @florchids @ultravi0lence14 @starzify @honeyryewhiskey @bluemerakis @deansbite @rafespreciosa @voidsuites @abox-of-rocks @whisperingdaze @inspiredangel @deanssun . . . ☆
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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months ago
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Don't Take Her For Granted
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~4.2k
Warnings: angst, feeling like second best, fluff at the end
Request by @jessicalynnann: What about one where Jensen wishes he had a normal life with the reader but his wish comes true and he is married to some one else and he is a sports therapist and the reader is his secretary and she gets treated like shit by him and his wife but the only way to break the spell is for him to get the reader to fall in love with him some how
Summary: You and Jensen can’t have what’s normal to most because he’s famous. You’re usually okay with it, but there always comes a tipping point in which you can’t recover from. Jensen’s world is turned upside down, and it’s up to him to figure out how to make things right.
Square Filled: “If I like her, shoot me.” (2021) for @spnquotebingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
Life hasn’t always given you what you wanted, but you’ve always had what you needed in the form of Jensen Ackles. He’s been your rock, your safe haven, and your best friend all rolled into one person. Tonight, you two are celebrating your one year marriage anniversary despite dating for nearly five years before that.
This is something you’ve been looking forward to all month and it’s finally here.
Jensen booked a night at one of the most expensive restaurants in town where you have to dress fancy in order to get in. You haven’t had a night off in so long so you were excited to dress up and do your hair and makeup. Jensen has been so busy finishing the 15th season of Supernatural and filming wrapped up last week.
You're so proud of the man he is and you love what he’s done not only for himself but for his fans. Still, you’re kind of happy he’s not actively in another job right now so that you two can focus on yourselves.
Jensen pulls up to the valet and both of you get out in front of the very nice restaurant. Jensen hands his keys to the valet and pulls you in closer.
“Happy anniversary,” he grins.
“Happy anniversary, baby.” You two walk to the front door of the restaurant when you hear Jensen’s name being called. You two look to the right and see two young girls smiling widely. They’re both wearing Dean Winchester shirts that look like they’ve been in the washer one too many times. Still, they look so happy to be seeing their favorite actor. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”
Jensen breaks away from you and walks over to the girls who are head over heels for him. He’s polite and signs what they want signed and takes pictures with them. He keeps their interaction brief before returning to you.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You two head into the restaurant and approach the hostess’s table. “Party of two for Ackles.”
“Right on time. Right this way,” she grins and grabs two menus. She escorts you back to your table, and you sit across from Jensen. “Here are two menus. Your waitress will be over shortly.”
“Thank you,” you smile. You pick up your menu and look through the appetizers. “Wow, these options all look so good.”
“Get a few. Whatever you don’t eat, we can take home. I know how much you love leftovers.”
It’s true, you do. You always order more than you can eat just so you have something to bring home. A young woman walks over to the table, and you set your menu down to give her your full attention.
“Hi, welcome in. My name is Hannah. Can I start you off with any drinks?”
“Yes. I’d like a glass of your Rosé, please.”
“A beer is fine for me, thank you,” Jensen chimes in.
“Great. I’ll let you look over the menu a little longer and put those in for you.”
She leaves and you look at Jensen who is browsing the menu.
“So, Tammy’s wedding is coming up and as her Maid of Honor, I have to plan the bachelorette party for her. I was thinking of a scavenger hunt type thing since I know she loves those. If it’s okay with you, I wanted to create a list of things to buy and that would be the scavenger hunt that way Tammy gets presents as well as the bridesmaids. What do you think?”
“I think that’s great. Sounds like you’ll have a lot of fun.”
“Is everything okay?”
Jensen puts his menu down and sighs. “I wanted to wait until later to tell you this but you need to know now before you plan any wedding events with me. I got offered a role for The Boys. The money is good. A little less than Supernatural, but I think this could be good for us.”
Whatever good mood you had is now gone. You don’t want to show him how disappointed you are but you can’t help it.
“Jensen, you know how happy I am for you, but you just got done with Supernatural. I thought we agreed to take a break for a little bit to spend more time together.”
“Filming doesn’t start for another month.”
You really don’t want to let this ruin your night and it will if you continue to talk about this.
“Can we talk about this tomorrow and just enjoy the night?”
“Sure.”
The waitress comes back with the drinks and you two put your orders in. You’re about to talk more about your sister’s wedding when two men come up to the table shyly at first.
“Sorry to interrupt your evening, but our girlfriends are big fans of Supernatural, and they would kill us if we didn’t at least ask for a picture. Do you mind?”
Jensen looks at you to see your eyes cast down. You grab your wine glass and take two big gulps. Maybe alcohol will numb your senses. You don’t say anything because you know whatever it is will be rude, so you opt for silence.
“Sure.”
The two men go on either side of your husband, and one of them takes a few pictures. The man to the right takes out a notepad and a pen, and you resist an eye roll. You don’t mean to be rude but this is supposed to be a special night for you and Jensen. Still, you don’t want to make a scene so you keep your mouth shut. Jensen signs the paper quickly, whatever will get them away faster.
“Thanks, man. You’re awesome!”
The two men leave, and you look at Jensen silently.
“No more distractions for the night.”
“Okay,” you say, unconvincingly.
Since Jensen has a bladder the size of a pea, that one beer is enough to make him want to pee. The food comes but Jensen is already out of his seat.
“I’ll be right back. Go ahead and start without me.”
“No, I’ll wait,” you smile.
Jensen pees fast so it’s not long until he’s coming out of the bathroom, but he’s stopped by one of the managers. The bathroom is in direct view from where you’re sitting so you can see all of this happening. First, you think something is wrong until Jensen and the manager shake hands with smiles on their faces. The manager takes out his phone and snaps a few photos with Jensen, and that’s the last straw for you.
Now you’re pissed.
Jensen knows you’re waiting for him. He knows the food on the table. Yet he continues to chat with the manager as if they’re lifelong friends catching up. You don’t want to start eating and be almost done before he gets back. By the time Jensen comes back to the table, the food isn’t hot anymore.
“Sorry, I got stopped by the manager,” he says as if you didn’t watch the whole exchange.
“I want to leave. Let’s go home.”
“Y/N.”
“Jensen, the food is cold now. I want to go home unless you still need to take pictures with the bartender. I’m sure he wants one.”
Jensen grows annoyed but he doesn’t say anything that he knows will make the situation worse. Instead, he puts more than enough cash down on the table and grabs his jacket. The entire ride home is filled with tense silence. Even when you get home, you get ready for bed without a word. You didn’t eat anything but you’re too pissed to want to eat something now.
“Look, I’m sorry, okay?”
“You’re always sorry,” you say and walk out of the bathroom.
“What do you want me to do, Y/N? I can’t control people coming up to me in public.”
“No, you can’t, but how about try telling them no for a change instead of giving them what they want?”
“So, what, you don’t like my fans now?”
It’s just like Jensen to take your words and spin them. You grab your extra pillow and slam it on the bed angrily.
“I didn’t say that. You know I adore what you do. I love the fan base you have built. Don’t ever think I won’t support that side of you, but this night was our one year anniversary.”
“I wish I could turn it off. I wish I had a normal life, but this is what’s normal for me… for us. You knew that when you started dating me. You agreed to that when you married me.”
You sigh tiredly and sag your shoulders. You take off your rings and put them in the small seashell Jensen found on the beach one day that you keep on your bedside table.
“I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”
“I love you.”
You can’t hide the sadness in your smile. This part of his life sucks but you have to find out how to make lemonade with it.
“I love you, too.”
You two get into bed and fall asleep easily. When Jensen wakes up the next morning, he’s alone in bed. He feels the sheets but they’re cold which means you’ve been up for a while. He sits up and wipes the sleep out of his eyes when he notices it. The decor in the bedroom is different. Gone are all of your things, even the small seashell on the bedside table. The walls are void of pictures and the small trinkets you painted and put up. He jumps out of bed and runs into the bathroom but the same thing greets him.
Your side of the sink is free of all of your clutter, bobby pins, stray pieces of hair, and the faint smell of hair products. He runs out of his room hoping to see you on the couch but he pauses before he can get far. Everything in his place is completely different. There is no evidence that a woman has ever lived here. Did you pack up your shit in the middle of the night and leave? He takes out his phone and looks through it, but all evidence of you has been wiped from it. No photos of you two on the couch when you were being lazy. No photos of you two in clay masks when you two had a spa night. No photos of your life with him.
What the hell?
His panic is interrupted by a call on his phone. He sees your name pop up, so that’s proof he still knows you.
“Where the hell is all of your things? What is going on?” he answers the call. “Where are you?”
“Um, work where you’re not. Your eight am is here. Are you on your way or should I reschedule?”
“What? What are you talking about? Did you pack up all your things and move out in the middle of the night?”
“Jensen, what are you talking about? Are you coming to work or not?”
He thinks it’s better to have a conversation with you face-to-face, so he decides not to freak out right now.
“Yeah, I’m on my way. Send me the address.”
He hangs up the phone and you look at the phone with a weird expression. Maybe he had too much to drink last night. Still, you do as you’re told and send him the address to the place he comes to every single day without fail.
“Mr. Ackles is running a bit late. I apologize for the inconvenience, but if you have a seat, he’ll be in shortly,” you say to his client.
“Sure. Thanks.”
You open up the chat window you’re using to talk to your friend and briefly read through the messages again to remind yourself of what you’re talking about. Right. Jensen.
You: Guess who is late? For a man who has been punctual for as long as I’ve known him, he sure had a lot to drink last night. He asked me for the address.
Kristy: At least you get a break from him, right?
You: I’m so sick and tired of this shit, K. If he’s not late, it’s the way I schedule his clients. If it’s not that, it’s the way the food is cold when I bring it to him. I can’t do any good in this man’s eyes.
Kristy: You know, I read about this in a book once where the secretary falls in love with her boss.
You: If I like him, shoot me.
The front doors open and Jensen comes strolling in looking disheveled and concerned. He slaps his hand on the counter and you back up slightly from how intense he’s being.
“What the hell is going on? All of your things are gone. It’s like we’re not even married anymore.”
Okay, you were not expecting that. You were expecting him to blame you for scheduling a client at eight in the morning even though he told you to, but you weren't expecting him to blurt out that you’re married. You put up a lot from him, but this is where you draw the line.
“Sir, I put up a lot from you, but this is inappropriate,” you sutter.
“What?”
“Your eight am is here waiting for you.”
“To do what? What is this place?”
“How much did you have to drink last night?” you whisper. All he does is give you a confused look. “Look, Mr. Ashby is here for his first appointment for therapy. He injured his leg while playing football. You’re his physical therapist. I know you like to drink but come on.”
Jensen looks back at the man and shakes his head.
“Reschedule it.”
“Excuse me?”
“Just do it, okay?”
Jensen leaves and heads to his office, and you huff out in anger and annoyance. You’d quit on the spot if the benefits weren't so great. You make really good money and your rent is low. You’re not going anywhere no matter how big of a headache Jensen is.
Jensen shuts the door to his office and sinks into his desk chair. There is one person who might make sense of this, so he calls his best friend of almost his entire life.
“What’s up?” Jared asks when he answers the phone.
“Look, I don’t know what’s going on but just humor me for a sec, okay? I need the 411 on my life.”
“Are you okay?”
“Yeah. You know Y/N?”
“Your secretary?”
It pains him to hear that you’re just his secretary but he pushes past that.
“I swear I’m telling the truth but last night, we were married. We had a life together. I woke up this morning and everything changed.” Jared laughs much to Jensen’s annoyance. “What?”
“You? Married? That’s a good one.”
“What does that mean?”
“You’re not the settling down type which is fine, but you haven’t had a steady girlfriend since your prom date in high school.”
“What are you talking about?” Jensen asks, flabbergasted.
“You bring home a new girl every week.”
“What about Y/N?”
“Dude, you hate her. You don’t care about her. You never did.”
Jensen can’t believe what he’s hearing. You? How can he hate you? He fell in love with you the second he laid eyes on you.
“I gotta go.”
He ends the call immediately and just sits back as he tries to process this. After what feels like hours, he does a bit of research on himself to see the type of person he is. He doesn't know much about sports medicine or how to treat injuries, but with extensive research, he feels like he can fake it for today.
He goes through three clients before lunch, and he’s grateful for the break before two more clients. He leaves his office and approaches your desk with a shy smile. You’re putting things in your purse since you’re about to head out for a quick lunch.
“What are you doing for lunch?”
Your shoulders sag knowing what he’s asking you. “Nothing anymore. Do you want the usual?”
“What?”
“Don’t you want me to go all the way across town and get your lunch for you?”
“No, why would I want that?”
You frown. “Because you always want me to.”
“Not today. Do you have lunch plans?”
“I was just about to go get lunch and bring it back. I don’t normally go anywhere just in case you need me.”
Jensen pushes back the feeling of resentment. “Lunch is on me. Have some with me.”
You stand up angrily and glare at him much to his surprise.
“I don’t know what sick game you’re playing but leave me out of it. I just want to come here, do my job, and go home. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” he says in a soft voice.
“Now, I’m going out to lunch.”
“Okay.”
Jensen watches you storm off with a sigh. He knows he fucked up but he has to try and fix this. If this is his new life, he has to make it better.
A week goes by, and it’s been the most troubling week of his life. This is worse than when he wasn’t given the script until the last minute, and that entire week was full of fuck ups. He hates that you’re not by his side but he’s trying to get used to you being at a distance. He’s been nothing but nice to you but you’re not used to such a sudden change from the man who mistreats you.
Jensen came to work and barely said two words to you, as per usual, so you’re chatting with Kristy over messenger.
You: I don’t know if Jensen was hit in the head but he’s being nice to me. It’s weird.
Kristy: See? It’s the romantic office story I’ve been telling you about. Girl, he’s hot.
You: That doesn’t make up for the fact that he’s an asshole.
Jensen walks out of his office and approaches your desk, so you minimize the chat so he doesn’t see the messages. He reaches for his wallet and pulls out a shiny black Amex card.
“Lunch is on me today.” He sets the card on the desk. “Oh, and before I forget, I’m forced to go to some dinner with people I don’t even like. You’re coming with me.”
“What?”
“Yeah. Get whatever you want, also on me. I’ll pick you up at eight tonight.”
Jensen is gone before you can say anything. You pick up his card and reopen the chat window.
You: He just gave me his credit card and invited me to a dinner tonight. He told me to buy something new to wear.
Kristy: Girl take advantage! Maybe he’s changed.
You: I’ll believe it when I see it.
You’re not a gold digger but you are looking forward to dressing in something nice for a change. You normally don’t go out unless it’s with Kristy, but she lives in another state. You don’t spend much of Jensen’s money, mostly because you’re afraid he’s going to make you pay it back. Still, you spend the rest of the day buying new things and getting prepared for dinner.
The dress is simple and black with a top that accentuates your upper chest. It doesn't show a lot of cleavage but it does show off your shoulders and collarbone. Your hair is down but in soft waves, and you keep your makeup light. Your shoes are open-toed heeled sandals that make your calves look amazing.
The doorbell rings making Jensen right on time. You walk to the front door and open it, and you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. In his hands are flowers, your favorite kind.
“Wow, you look beautiful.” You hate to admit it, but you’re shocked at this. “Here, these are for you.”
“Wow, thank you,” you say and take the flowers. You put the flowers in your kitchen and remove his credit card from your purse. “This is yours. Thank you for the new clothes.”
“It’s the least I can do.”
Jensen escorts you to his car and opens the passenger door for you, and you slide into the car with ease. Jensen gets behind the wheel and starts driving to the restaurant.
“Why are you being so nice to me? You’re never this nice to me.”
“I finally appreciate the person you are.”
“Really?” He nods. “In all the time I’ve worked for you, you never once complimented me.”
This makes Jensen’s heart hurt. He briefly looks at you before returning to the road. “I’ve always found you beautiful.” Okay, now you’re shocked. “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I’ll do better.”
You smile but don’t say anything else. Jensen makes it to the restaurant and hands the keys to the valet. He puts his hand on your lower back and escorts you inside the place.
“Jensen!” You look to the right to see a man coming your way. “I knew that was you. What you did for my daughter… She’s never walked better thanks to you.”
“Thanks. I’d love to chat, but I’m here with someone. Maybe next time, okay?”
Jensen leads you away from the man and over to the large table with a bunch of his associates that he has no business being with. The only person here that matters is you. Jensen pulls out your chair, and you sit down with a blush creeping up your neck.
“So, tell me about you.”
“What?”
“What are your likes? Hobbies? I want to know everything about you.”
You’re about to answer when someone across the table calls for Jensen.
“Hey, Jensen, tell Robert about that time you helped Peyton Manning.”
“Not right now. I’m talking to Y/N. Maybe later.”
All throughout the night, Jensen has made you a priority. You didn’t think it was possible, but maybe he has changed. You don't know it yet, but you’re falling for this man instead of the one you thought you knew.
After dinner, Jensen drives you home without any funny business. He walks you to your front door, and you turn to him with a genuine smile.
“Thank you for tonight. I actually enjoyed myself, believe it or not.”
Jensen leans in closer, and you freeze thinking he is going to kiss you. He bypasses your lips and kisses your cheek gently.
“I’d love to take you out on a real date next time, if you’ll let me.”
Your skin tingles from where his lips touched your cheek, and you resist the urge to touch it.
“That can be arranged,” you smile.
“Good. Have a good night, Y/N.”
“Have a good night, Jensen.”
He goes to bed that night with a smile because it’s the first time since switching into this new life that he’s finally okay with it. The sun isn’t even up when Jensen wakes up in the morning, mostly because of the black out curtains that you insisted on putting up when you moved in with him.
Wait.
Jensen shoots up in bed and looks next to him to see you sleeping there with soft snores coming out. Right there on the nightstand is the seashell he found for you. Inside are your rings. The walls are decorated with your trinkets he loves, and he can see the cluttered mess in the bathroom.
He’s back.
Did he dream it all? Was it real? Whatever it was, opened his eyes. Jensen is about to lay back down when he remembered the fight you two had before going to bed. He finally knows what he needs to do. He gets out of bed carefully so as to not wake you, and he walks to the kitchen where his laptop is. He opens iMessage that’s connected to his phone and makes a new message to his agent that scored him the role for The Boys.
Jensen: After some thought, I can’t take the role. I need to focus on my family before I take on new work. Thank you for thinking of me. If the role is still available down the line, I’d be more than happy to take it then.
The next thing he does is go online and browse through the two saved websites he bookmarked a few weeks ago. He wanted to surprise you with a vacation for your one year anniversary, but that’s also when his agent told him about The Boys. You’ve been wanting to go to Hawaii, and he books the perfect package that he knows you’ll love.
When he’s done, he walks back to the bedroom and carefully climbs into bed. He leans over you and presses kisses to your exposed shoulder. You moan tiredly and shift before opening your eyes.
“What time is it?”
“Just after six.”
“What are you doing up this early?”
“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I was a jerk. You deserve better.”
You sit up and turn the lamp on so that it emits a soft glow in the room.
“I was a jerk, too.”
“I turned down The Boys role.”
“Why?” you gasp.
Jensen leans in and kisses you. “You are my wife. There’ll be other roles. Not another you. I also booked a two-week vacation in Hawaii. We leave tomorrow.”
“What?” You grin widely. “Really?”
“Yes. I love you. I am in love with you. You’re the most important thing in my life.”
You jump into his arms and he falls back with a laugh at your eagerness.
“I love you,” you grin and kiss him.
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Text
When What We Had was Everything Pt. 1
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This is a three part fic series and will complete three of my @jacklesversebingo card spaces. This first part will fill the "You won't take care of yourself, so I will." square. Pt. 2 will fill the But We Lost It square. Pt. 3 will fill the They're Out of Time square. ❤️
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Summary: When Y/N really needs him, Jensen steps up, leaving all their past in the past. Can Y/N possibly do the same?
Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: None in this chapter. Brief talk of grief and loss. Extremely stressed reader. Smidge of angst.
Word Count: 4,051
A/N: I hope you enjoy this short fic series. Just three parts. This first part also fulfills a request from the lovely dove anon.
I keep hearing the TikTok audio that’s like “you came?” “You called.” could you write a jensen fic maybe related to it? I feel like it would be sooo wholesome and so cute I’m obsessed with the thought!!
I hope it's what you were looking for sweetie.
Part 2 will be out next week. Probably, Wednesday the 23rd. And Part 3 should be out on Wednesday the 30th. Let me know what you think of this first part. ❤️
Series Master List || Jensen Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists
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Y/N felt the pain throb behind her eyes again and pinched the bridge of her nose as her little sister’s husband pouted. 
“I thought this was good.” He whined, pointing to the tuxedo hanging from the hanger in his hand. 
The tuxedo was four sizes too small for her father; it had a white, lacy, ruffled shirt to go with it, and it was black. It wasn’t even close to what she’d asked him to find. But she took a deep breath and tried for kindness. 
“No, Jason, it’s great. But Dad was pretty specific about what…” Y/N swallowed. “He was specific about what he wanted to be buried in, he wrote it all out for us. He said he wanted a suit like the one he wore when he and mom got married. You know, dark blue, plain white shirt, and…” She didn’t bother to mention the size wasn’t even close.
She lifted a hand towards him. “Don’t...do you still have the reference picture I gave you?”
Jason pulled the small square picture out of his pocket and looked at it before showing it to Y/N. “Yeah, that’s what I got him. Basically. I mean, I’m not gonna be able to get his exact same suit.”
Y/N felt the scream bubble up in her lungs, the scream that had been building inside of her for days, and she was seconds away from letting it loose on her useless brother-in-law. Instead she snatched the picture away from him.
“It’s fine.” She said and she knew her voice was too sharp, so she tempered it with a smile and tried again. “It’s fine. Thanks, I’ll just. I’ll find something. I appreciate your help.”
Jason did everything but roll his eyes as he huffed away and tossed the tuxedo across a beautifully upholstered chair in the wide, spacious living room.
The last few days had made Y/N more grateful than ever that her parents had been blessed enough to afford the large house that she and her brother and sister had grown up in. As it stood, they had twelve cousins, three aunts, four uncles, and two of her dads colleagues from Europe staying in the house. Even for a home as big and accommodating as theirs, the house was bursting at the seams. 
Which reminded her that she still had to figure out something for supper for everyone. She pulled her phone out of her pocket and called the local pizza place to order a bunch of pizzas and salads. Their small town still didn’t have grub hub available, so Ant’s Pizza and Italian Food would have to do.
As she was placing the order, her little brother, David, came bounding through the back door, his energy and massive smile was at odds with the slightly solemn atmosphere of the house. But she knew it was just how he dealt, lots of denial, and a fair amount of weed. 
She caught his eye as he headed towards the basement where he and two younger cousins were bunking together. She waved him over and spoke briefly into the phone.
“Can you give me just a sec. Thanks.” She moved the phone away from her mouth and spoke quietly to her brother. “Davie, you have to leave in less than an hour to pick Auntie Sheila up at the airport. Are you still good to do that?”
David sucked air through his teeth. “Ooh, I definitely think I’m too high to drive.”
“David.” Y/N admonished, the scream building in her chest once again. “I told you yesterday I’d need you to grab her. You couldn’t stay sober for -”
He cut her off, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “Well, so sorry I messed up, Y/N/N. I guess my dad just died so I’m a little bummed, and decided to try and chill a bit.” He waved a hand to encompass the house. “There’s like a million fucking people here, no one else can do it?”
He stomped off with the cousins and Y/N watched him leave before whispering, “Yeah, funnily enough my dad died too.”
“What was that?” The woman on the other end of the phone sounded a bit annoyed to be kept waiting.
“Sorry.” Y/N said quickly, continuing on with the order. 
She hung up and pulled up her list of things that had to be done before the funeral the next day. They still had to send over the list of songs her dad had wanted them to play at the ceremony and the funeral home had sent her an email with the layout of the funeral program and needed her okay on it, But they’d misspelled her mom’s name in the small obituary that graced the back page.
"Stephen was predeceased by his loving wife of thirty-two years, Martha (nee Layland)", the program read. 
Her mother’s name was Marcia. She needed to get back to them about that right away, before they printed them out and her father was forever linked to some random woman named Martha. 
She pulled up the email and was typing a response while she stood in the hallway. She was sort of existing in limbo, not willing to commit to sitting in any one room, because inevitably as soon as she sat down, something would crop up and need her attention in another room. So, for two days she’d barely sat down, barely eaten, and was going on a total of about five hours of sleep.
As she shifted from foot to foot, writing the email, her little sister came around the corner and her face was annoyed. 
“What’s wrong?” Y/N asked.
Tears came to Josie’s eyes and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Jason says you were really rude to him about Dad’s suit. I don’t think that was called for. I mean, he was trying to help; he was doing us a favor by going to get it. He says you told him he screwed up. That really upset him.”
Y/N stopped writing and closed her phone. “Jo, Dad wanted a suit like the blue one he wore when he and mom got married, remember?” 
Josie nodded and shrugged. “Yeah.” 
“Well, Jason got a black tuxedo, with some kind of weird ruffled shirt.”
She pointed to the tux draped over the chair and Josie went over to pick it up. Her nose scrunched up and she dashed away her tears. 
“Oh.” Then she shook her head. “What the hell, this thing is way too small for him.”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah, that too.” 
“Ugh!” Josie dropped the tuxedo like it was filthy. “K, sorry, Y/N/N. I’ll go yell at him.”
Y/N grabbed her sister's arm. “No, sweetie. Don’t do that. I don’t want you to upset him. It was nice of him to try.” 
I also don’t need the added drama of you and your little boy spouse yelling and fighting. Y/N thought. 
But she gave Josie a kiss on the forehead and brushed her fingers through her hair, like she used to when they were kids and her baby sister would get in trouble. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it. I’ll go find something else in a bit.”
Josie nodded and sniffled. “I still can’t believe this is happening, you know. I mean, I guess that’s stupid since he’s been sick so long, but…I don’t know, it just still feels sudden. I don’t know how that’s possible.”
Y/N pushed down her own tears to wipe away her little sister’s as they fell. “I know Joey.” She said, slipping into the childhood nickname that Josie had forced her to stop using in Junior High. “No matter what, he was here and then he was gone, and that will always feel sudden, I think.”
Y/N pulled her into a tight hug. “But him and mom are together again, tearing up heaven, I bet.”
Josie laughed softly through her tears. “Yeah, I wouldn’t be surprised.” She sighed and pulled away, wiping her tears. “Yeah, they always said they were a match made in heaven, so I’m sure they rule the place already.”
The sisters chuckled together, as their fond memories mingled together and brought them each a moment of peace. Josie shattered it for Y/N by raising a curious eyebrow.
“So…speaking of a match made in heaven, any word back from Jensen?”
Y/N felt her stomach plummet and she shook her head quickly. “No, I couldn’t reach him. I left a message, but I know he’s shooting in Australia. So, he’s literally on the other side of the world. He won’t be able to make it.” 
She shook her head again, angry at herself this time. “It was stupid to call him anyway. I haven’t spoken to him for months, since before Dad even got sick. It was so friggin dumb to call and leave a voicemail being like, ‘Hey, my dad died.’ Ugh!” 
Josie gave her a sympathetic look. “No, you were right to let him know at least. He and Dad got along great when you guys were together, so I'm sure he’d wanna know. And who knows, maybe he’ll call you back at least.” 
Her gaze became calculating. “Which will give you the chance to tell him how stupid you were to let him go, and how much you still love him!”
“Uh uh.” Y/N replied  sharply. “That’s not happening, Jo. I can not think about anything like that right now.” 
The last thing she needed was for her ongoing Jensen heartache and the heartbreak from the loss of her father, to combine and completely debilitate her.
Josie looked like she was going to continue, but something in Y/N’s expression seemed to change her mind. Instead, she just shrugged and turned to leave.
“K, whatever you say. I’m starving. I need food.”
Y/N smiled, ignoring her own growling stomach. “Okay, I’m off to return the tuxedo and find something else.”  
Josie nodded and gave her a thumbs up. Y/N grabbed the tuxedo from the chair and made a mental note to text her aunt and tell her to take a cab from the airport, and she’d reimburse her. She could do that and finish the email in the car.
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Y/N felt the scream growing in her chest once again as she faced the salesperson in the third store she’d been to. 
The tuxedo was still in the trunk of her car, because she’d forgotten to get the receipt from Jason, so that would have to be a task for another day. Right now she was simply trying to find a suit that fit her father’s last wishes.
She tamped down her frustrations and smiled at the young guy in front of her. “Okay, so you don’t have anything in a navy suit in that size, but do you have anything that looks anything like this?” She lifted the picture again for him to see.
He just lifted a careless shoulder. “No, it’s just what we’ve got out on the floor.”
Y/N felt her voice cracking as she spoke. “Okay, you have another location across town, right? Is there any chance they have something like it?”
“I dunno.” The guy said unhelpfully.
Y/N knew her smile was starting to look like a grimace and she tried to change that before asking. “Would it be at all possible for you to check with them before I drive all the way over there?”
“K, yeah, hang on.” The guy sighed deeply and walked towards the back, presumably to make the call.
When he was out of sight Y/N began to suck in deep breaths and force her smile back onto her face. After a moment of practice she felt like she was managing it, when she heard someone set off the door chime as they walked in.
She turned to look and her jaw dropped. Jensen stood just inside the door and he smiled at her; his voice was soft.
“Hey baby.”
“Jensen.” Y/N whispered. It felt like she was hyperventilating as she spoke, completely out of breath. 
“You came.” She said with wonder.
“You called.” He responded with a gentle smile and a shrug.
She blinked rapidly, desperate to keep her tears at bay. But Jensen walked up to her and tucked her hair behind her ear and cupped her cheek. 
“I’m so sorry, sweetheart.” 
It was as though he’d pressed some sort of release valve and she was suddenly absolutely incapable of holding back her tears. They flooded her, and noisy sobs left her mouth; she had no way to stop them.
Jensen pulled her into him, wrapping his arms around her and rubbing her back. “Shh, it’s okay, baby, it’s okay.” He said softly as he rocked her slightly in his arms.
She felt as though the scream that had been building for days, was slowly leaking out of her through her tears; she quickly soaked Jensen’s sweater. All the while, he just held her, making soothing noises and kissing the top of her head and her temple, letting her cry as long as she wanted.
As her tears began to dry up, she heard the sales guy come back through the door. “So, the other store says they don’t -” There was a brief pause and Y/N turned away from Jensen’s chest in time to see the guy’s eyes nearly pop out of his head.
“Holy shit!” He said, exploding with excitement, his skinny body practically vibrating. “You’re Soldier Boy. I got Soldier Boy in the friggin store!”
Jensen pulled Y/N into his side, tucking her safely under his left arm and reaching out to shake the guy’s hand with his right.
“Hi, nice to meet you. What’s your name?” 
“H-Howie. I’m Howie.” He said, tripping over his words a bit.
Howie pulled his phone out of his pocket and raised it in front of him to snap a selfie that would include all three of them. Y/N turned her face into Jensen’s shoulder to avoid the camera. Jensen reached out and grabbed the phone away before Howie could snap the picture.
He handed it back with a smile. “Sorry Howie, but my friend here is going through a very rough time right now and I don’t think she’s in the mood for selfies.”
Howie frowned. “So, she doesn’t have to be in it.”
Y/N tried to pull away so she wasn’t in the picture, but Jensen tightened his grip and kept her flush against his side. 
“No, I think she’s gonna stay right here. Do you have the suit she needs?”
Howie’s face was scrunched up into annoyance. “No.”
“Okay, thanks then.” Jensen said and headed for the door.
“Wow, you’re an asshole!” Howie shouted at him as they walked out the door.
As they stepped out onto the sidewalk Y/N shook her head. “Jensen, you could have just taken the picture, I would have stepped away from you.”
Jensen shook his head. “N’ah, I wanted to keep you next to me.”
Y/N looked up at him, still processing the fact that he was actually here. “Jensen, I can’t believe you came all the way from Australia. And you’re working, can you really afford the time away? And how did you know where to find me?”
Jensen waved dismissively. “I went to your parents' house, and Josie said you were out trying to get a suit for your Dad.” He shrugged. “There are only so many suit shops in this town, just so happens I found you in the second place I went.”
He smiled and shook his head. “As for work and the rest of it, don’t worry about that, it doesn’t matter.” He cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead. “How are you holding up, sweetheart?”
Y/N shrugged. “Mostly okay, I guess. I mean, Dad was pretty sick for the last three months, and the doctors were never hopeful.” 
She looked up at him guiltily. “Sorry I didn’t call you sooner. But I didn’t know if…I mean just, you know the way things…the way we left things, I didn’t know if…”
Jensen’s eyes were slightly shadowed, as he ducked his head and nodded. “No, I get it. But we don’t have to uh, we don’t need to talk about that right now. It’s not what’s important.” He straightened up and took a deep breath, and then smiled. “You need a suit for your Dad right?”
Y/N nodded. “Yes, he wanted it to look like this one.” She pulled the picture out of her purse and showed it to him. “But at this point, I’ll be happy to find any suit that will fit. You know, not a small guy, my dad.” She said with a fond smile.
“No, he sure wasn’t.” Jensen said with a smile. “Scared the shit outta me the first time I met him. But it was clear pretty quick that he was just a giant softy.” 
“Yeah.” Y/N agreed with another tear falling which she dashed away quickly.
Jensen pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a picture of the old wedding photo and then dialed a number. 
“Hang on.” He said, raising one finger as he stepped away. He spoke quietly with someone for a minute or two before returning to her side as he hung up.
“Okay, that’s done. I’ve got a friend who can get a suit just like that one.” He said, tapping the picture that Y/N still held. “I gave her your dad’s suit size, a 52" long, right?” 
Y/N nodded and he continued. “Also the name of the funeral home. She’s gonna coordinate with them, and the suit will be there first thing tomorrow morning.” 
He tucked his phone back into his pocket. “What’s next?”
Y/N shook her head, protesting. “No, Jensen, I’m sure you didn’t fly halfway across the world just to run errands.”
Jensen leveled a look directly at her. “Y/N, that is exactly why I flew here. Cause I know you.” He cupped her cheek gently. “I knew you’d be running around taking care of everything and everyone else, and forget about what YOU need.” 
He shrugged. “You won’t take care of yourself, so I will.” His gaze was warm and it made Y/N think of how it felt to come in from the cold and feel warm and safe. He smiled. “So, what’s next?”
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By the time the pizzas showed up at six thirty that evening, everything was finished. All the errands and chores on her to-do list had been crossed off. Thanks to Jensen. 
He’d stepped in and taken over most of the list, consulting with her when he needed to, but mostly allowing her to just walk alongside him quietly as he got everything done.
It had caused a minor hullabaloo among her cousins when she showed up at the door with Dean Winchester in tow. They all knew she’d dated Jensen, but most of them had never gotten the chance to meet him. 
But Josie had come through and mercifully saved them all from embarrassment by shooing away the cousins and giving Jensen a kiss on the cheek.
“Told Y/N you'd come.” She said with a side glance at her sister that said, “I told you so.”
Eventually everyone found a spot to sit and eat their pizza, either in the kitchen, dining room or living room. Conversations tended to center around her dad, funny stories, or heartwarming ones, and she was happy everyone was celebrating him exactly the way he would have wanted.
A few hours later, as people began thinking about bed, Y/N came back into the dining room where Jensen was sitting, and saw him frowning at his phone. His face cleared as she approached him.
“What’s up?” She asked.
He shook his head. “Oh, nothing.” Y/N gave him a look that said she could wait all night for the real answer and he laughed. “I was just trying to book a room, but it seems as though your one hotel and two bed and breakfasts are all full.”
Y/N gave him a sympathetic look. “Yeah, sorry. Ordinarily there’s not a whole lot of tourism in town. But right now, I think most of the rooms have been taken by people here for the funeral.” She shrugged and smiled. “Dad was well loved.”
Jensen reached out to squeeze her hand. “Yeah, he was.”
Y/N felt the warmth from his fingers travel up her arm and tingle across her skin. It was a pleasant feeling that she knew all too well, a kind of anticipation that always led to something more between them.
Jensen seemed to sense it too because he dropped her hand and stood up. He cleared his throat. “It’s no big deal. I can just drive into Kingston and find a room there.”
Y/N shook her head. “No, that's an hour and a half drive each way. Why waste the time? Just…just stay here. We’ve got room.”
Jensen gave an awkward chuckle and looked around the rooms packed with people. “Where? Under the porch?”
Y/N gave him a teasing smile. “Well, you scoff, but the raccoons gave it a very solid four stars.” They stood awkwardly for a minute more before she shook her head. “Seriously, though, I’m sure we can find one more bed to stash you in.”
Jensen agreed reluctantly, but as it turned out, finding an open space was tougher than it seemed. All the rooms were very much at capacity, and so were the couches. There was floor space down in the basement with the cousins, but Y/N knew they’d stay up most of the night playing video games which wasn’t exactly conducive to Jensen's sleep.
Finally she just shook her head and gave in to the idea that made her stomach twist but also squeeze tight and fill with butterflies. She put on her most nonchalant voice. 
“You know what, this is dumb. Just stay in my room. It's just me in there right now, so I've got the space and you know. Not like we haven’t bunked together before, right?”
Y/N knew her choice of words was dumb. “Bunking” was not how she would describe her nights in bed with Jensen. Her mind was instantly filled with memories of him pressed tight against her body, the feel of him moving inside her, tracing his hands over every inch of her, making her burst to life with a mere flick of his tongue.
She thought maybe Jensen was experiencing the same memories, because his gaze was intense and heated before he snapped his head to the side, looking away from her. “That’s,” his voice was hoarse, “probably not…I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”
Y/N nodded, though he wasn’t looking at her. Her cheeks flushed and she was quick to backtrack. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s a…you can just crash in the basement. The guys will be a bit noisy, but…just tell them to shut up if they get to be too much.” She forced a chuckle, and Jensen seemed to grab it like a lifeline, forcing a laugh too.
“Yeah, absolutely. I’m sure it’ll be fine.” He clasped his hands together at waist height and rubbed his palms in circles, a tell that Y/N remembered meant that he was nervous. “I’ll just grab my bag from my car.” 
He pointed vaguely towards the outside and Y/N nodded. “Yeah, okay. Then you can just head down and make yourself at home.”
They stood awkwardly for a minute more and then he leaned down to kiss her cheek. It was only a peck, but his lips were so soft and lush that it still made Y/N’s heart flutter.
He pulled back with a warm smile and an emotion in his gaze that she couldn’t interpret. “K, goodnight.” He said softly.
Y/N smiled back and tried to make it natural. “Goodnight. And, uh, just thanks. I mean, for everything today.”
Jensen shook his head. “Don’t worry about it.”
With a final squeeze to her hand he walked out to his car and Y/N practically ran up the stairs to her room.
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deansbite · 2 months ago
Text
Oh My Angel ? — alec mcdowell
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— CONTAINS : girldad!alec | mom!reader | heavy angst | possibly implied child murder ( i do not condone murder nor is this fic in any way shape or form supporting it, it is fanfiction ) | grieving | description of blood | dont read the ending | afab!reader | i refer to reader as you
> PS. @a1ecmcdowell made me do it with her hey june fic ( which ghis fic is heavily ib by ). sorry in advance. + i didn’t proofread
— SUMMARY : an unexpected pregnancy falls onto you & alecs lap, causing you both to have a bumpy ride into parenthood due to the circumstances with The Pulse and your medical care — or well, lack there of. although, it doesn’t get any better when you two get to hold your baby.. it actually just gets worse — but you don’t know it.
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THE BEGINNING
I hadn’t expected to find out through Logan, of all people, that somethings been going on with you. He told me, in an unexpected way.. which was whilst I paid him a quick visit, that you’ve been feeling quite unwell, you told him but not me, already strange enough.. And he went on, said that you’ve been having ups and downs regarding your physical health. And, as any normal person would do, I worried.
But, it didn’t take me long before I went to your workplace. Jam Pony — where I worked, aswell. Except it was my day off.
Considering Normal was so very fond of me that I could take any amount of time off without him batting an eye. Being the Golden Boy came with its perks and flaws. Today it was most definitely a perk considering I could just waltz in and ask for you.
“Oh, right over there.” directed me to you with a point of his finger.
I immediately made my way to you, putting one foot in front of the other until I reached you at your locker, shoving some random things in there. “Hey.” I greeted you, my green eyes probably proving to you that I had something on my mind. “Oh.” You didn’t seem quite pleased to see me. You looked surprised — given the fact that it was etched into your expression.
“Don’t look too happy to see me.” I replied, the tone in which I spoke in had an edge of concern to it.
“No — no, it’s not you. I just thought you had your day off.” A moment of silence was exchanged between the both of us. “I do.” I sighed, pressing my lips together. “You don’t look too hot.” I pointed out, with furrowed eyebrows. “I just caught a cold, is all.” You answered. “You sure that’s it? Logan seemed to have other concerns.” I finally remarked, a scoff escaping my lips.
“He told you?!” I heard the pissed off tone in your voice. “Just ‘cause he knew you wouldn’t tell me.” I raised an eyebrow, “Care to tell me what all that is about?”
“Look.. I was meaning to tell you but I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I just.. well, I thought..” You paused. “Can we continue this conversation somewhere where Max, Cindy and Sketchy can’t hear us?” I pretended to think for a moment. “Maybe.” You furrowed your eyebrows. “You came here to talk to me and when I want too you tell me ‘maybe’ what is your logi —”
“Seems to me you still don’t know when i’m sarcastic, baby.” I stifled a laugh that threatend to escape my mouth. “Oh.. oh you annoying little —”
“I gotta stop you right there. You wanna go somewhere more private or do you wanna keep letting me provoking you?” And with that, you grabbed my forearm and dragged me into the backroom of Jam Pony. I waved to Max and Cindy on the way there. They — especially Max seemed uninterested which got a chuckle out of me.
And then the silence engulfed the both of us. “So..” I started, clearing my throat.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner — I was afraid that you wouldn’t stick around. Considering that..” You paused. It developed into silence with tension that I could slice with a knife. “That..?” I furrowed my eyebrows. “You can tell me anything — c’mon I wouldn’t leave you over something small y’know that rig —”
“I have morning sickness.. and i’m late on my period.”
“I think i’m pregnant, Alec”
BUMPY RIDE INTO PARENTHOOD
IT’S been five whole months. The news were shocking, that was for sure and I took a bit to grow used to that fact. Especially since I had to come to terms that I was becoming a father. I didn’t necessairily have any experience, growing up in a laboratory could do that to someone. I mean, I was taught to be an X5, a soldier, a cold-blooded killer. I wasn’t dealt with the best cards since day one.
And now I had to raise a child. The worst part was, I didn’t even know how. I never had a childhood, how should I give another tiny human one? One that’d have my genetics. The same genetics I was given from dear old Manticore scientists.
You didn’t even know I was a transgenic. I wasn’t sure if you’d still love me or want to keep the child after that ( though, you couldn’t exactly abort it if you didn’t, because medical care was impossible to get after The Pulse ).. Because everyone would react completely normal if they’d get told that ‘our baby could possibly have enhanced abilities because of me, sorry!’.
On the positive side, you began to grow a baby bump. You were glowing. And I honestly tried my best to make this ride as stress-free as possible for you.
With my worst attempts, obviously. To name a couple, I sang Oh My Angel to your growing stomach, a couple lyrics i’ve heard from that song back at Manticore. I would also give you massages and joke around with you randomly and not to mention, tease you so you’d be more focused on being annoyed than the unhinged cravings you so badly wanted to give into.
Another one of them was hanging out with our friends. “We aren’t naming the baby DARCY.” Max butted in, shaking her head. “Name him Max.” She suggested, smirking and looked at you. “Why should we name the baby Max? Are you the baby daddy?” I raised a brow as I asked the question. “No, but i’m gonna be his auntie and teach him all sorts of cool stuff.”
“Cool stuff being.. riding a motorcycle and almost degloving your whole arm more than once.” I commented, a laugh escaping me. “We already have one badass we don’t need our little baby here to be another one who possibly gets killed in a motorcycle crash.” You looked at me, then at Max. “What makes you think it’ll be a boy?” The questioned escaped your lips which made me focus on you for a moment, my eyes lingered over your visible bump and then your face.
“Just a feeling, a girls gotta do when a girls gotta do.” She responded, crossing her legs. “She bet on it with Cindy.” Logan corrected, furrowing his brows. “I gotta get my money.” Max added, confident.
The same day, just a little later when Max left with Logan, I was making some pasta you told me you started craving. I wasn’t a chef, God knows I haven’t touched a pan in the entirety of my time on earth. But considering I had enhanced intelligence and I was a transgenic, it shouldn’t be too hard.
“DARCY ain’t a bad name, is it?” I eventually prompted, stirring the pot of raw pasta, picking it up carefully and making sure I strained the water. “We’ll just have to wait and see.” You answered me pretty simply.
I turned my head over my shoulder, my eyes meeting yours as you sat neatly by the counter. I then placed the empty pot to the side. “Meaning?” I prompted, eyes concentrating on you. “Well, I mean if we hold the baby in our arms, we’ll figure it out.” I processed your words, rolling my shoulders in a shrug. “I suppose.” I then continued on with the pasta.
“How come you’re craving pasta today? I barely see you eating any.” I eventually questioned, currently mixing the pasta with the sauce. “The baby asks, the baby gets.” You stated. “Well, I suppose this’ll be practice for our pasta-loving baby in your stomache.” I noted, my voice playful transferring the pasta to a plate. “I guess so.”
“A plate of pasta for the lady and the little one.” I finally said, picking up a fork and sliding the plate of pasta in front of you on the counter. I observed you picking up the fork. “You seem to be doing a lot of work.. research, too.” You mentioned, which was true. I had been reading up on random parental guide books and asking women with babies at libraries for advice, as awkward as it is.
“I guess I just don’t want to fail our little DARCY.”
DAY 1 / 2556
NEWBORN ADDED TO THE FAMILY
TODAY, our little DARCY was born. I held her little tiny body covered in an equally sized blanket. As anyone can find out pretty easily, we found out our princess’ gender. A little baby girl. She was so little I couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. It was the biggest moment of both your life and my own.
I was a father.
I had my own little mini me — mini us in my arms. Her little wailing broke my heart until she calmed down in your arms — and then she was in my own. She was so petite and had the cutest eyes. They were filled with curiosity. I watched as she looked around, no clue in the world. It just made me want to break down into more tears. But I had to stay strong. For our baby. For you.
And for our new little family.
I was afraid. That was something I had to admit. I was afraid — what if I couldn’t be a good father? What if she needed something and I couldn’t give it to her — and you were exhausted so I take care of her and then she starts wailing and screaming — so I stand there cradling her and rocking her back and forth to no avail?
What if she grew up like me?
Became someone like me, a little arrogant and cocky version of me. And no traces of you in her. Apart from physical appearances — because she had your hair color.
And I worry that i’ll be a bad influence on my little princess. Make her keep others at arm length. Because I want her to be like you. I want her to be independent and isn’t afraid to get what she wants. But what if i’ll be in the way of that —? And that causes her to hate me because she grew up to be just like me. A cold hearted soldier.
What if she had enhanced abilities like him? And she would be an outcast all her life.
But then I look down at her in my arms. Her little tear-filled eyes looking up at me. She couldn’t cry because she’s been at it for more than an hour, and her little tear — engine ran out. You’ve been knocked out for a bit. So I spent time with our little baby.
“Hi.” I whispered, feeling my posture soften with her little head tilt to get a better look at me. “Who am I? Who is this big giant holding you in his arms and saying hi to you, little one?” DARCY looked confused which got a chuckle out of me. I never thought I would feel comfortable having a daughter and slipping into the role of a dad especially with my environment when I grew up. But she made it all worth it. All the pain led me down the path to have her.
“C’mon, don’t look at me like that.” I held her close and made sure to support her head as I stepped to the crib in the room, my shoes clanking against the hospital ground. “You got a judgmental glare, little lady, you’re gonna get grounded a bunch when you’re older with that look.” I playfully scolded DARCY with an unintentional parentese I hadn’t noticed I added.
She reached up with her hand barely the size of my fingertip and wrap her miniature fingers around my fingertip.
I felt my heart clench with just how adorable she was being. “I’m sorry, your highness. You win with that cute little move. I surrender. No ones gonna ground you, angel.” and then her eyes fluttered shut. “But I suppose we gotta get you all ready for bed, dont we?”
I rocked her as gentle as I possibly could back and forth, my eyes focused on her.
“Oh my angel,” I started, being careful to do it quiet enough so you wouldn’t stir awake.
“Come back — to me.”
“And I will love you,”
“ 'til eternity.”
“Oh my angel.” I bent over the crib, as cautious as I could to not drop DARCY too fast and make sure to place her down carefully, making sure to remove the blanket she was tucked in to then place ontop of her, so she could still move around. I noticed her little onesie from the hospital. My gaze softened and I watched her chest rise and fall before a quiet voice dragged me out of thought.
“And you were worried that you wouldn’t be a good dad.” You pointed out, I rolled my eyes whilst I turned around to face you. “I don’t know what you’re on about.” I spoke softly and acted clueless.
“Oh, sure you don’t. You totally fell inlove with her the moment you held her.” You murmured. “Aren’t you supposed to be asleep?” I rolled my eyes and approached the side of the hospital bed, leaning over and placing a kiss on your lips. “You just pushed out a whole human from your body.” I mumbled, concern evident in my voice.
“Oh? Is Mr. Cocky concerned about my well-being?” You acted surprised. “Shut up.” I groaned. “You’re so annoying.” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Funny considering I used to say that about you.”
“Is it too late to say I hate you?” I grumbled, pressing a kiss on your forehead.
“Pretty sure it is, yeah.”
DAY 84 / 2556
FIRST SMILE
IT’S been three months since DARCY entered our life. You’ve been working at Jam Pony on and off just helping Normal get packages to deliver considering you just wanted a breather so I decided to take care of DARCY. She’s growing so fast, it’s absurd. I honestly can’t keep up with her.
There are moments where I freeze due to not knowing what I could do to stop her from screaming and crying. It wasn’t often, but it also wasn’t rare. And it made me feel useless.
Because nine times out of ten, whenever I gave her to you, she’d be able to calm down in an instant. It was clear, you were her mother. I wasn’t, and she was spending nine whole months in your womb. But I just wanted to able to care for her without needing you to stop whatever you were doing just to help me out.
With time, I just felt like an awful father. Especially now that you were out and about more often and I was basically a stay—at—home dad and I had a tear-soaked shirt from our baby in my arms.
Though, I feel like I finally did something right. Today she’s been quite observant. Eyes locked onto my face as her hand lifted and she grasped at the fat of my cheek. “Oh — oh, sure I guess.. that’s better than having you crying.” I head to the couch with her bottle in my hand, shaking the baby bottle so the formula can mix well together. With me walking forward, placing one foot in front of the other and having the wooden floorboards creak or groan here and there, with her in my arms, she started to grab at my eyelashes.
I shut the eye she was grasping the eyelashes from and squinted with the other, scrunching my face together. “Attacking and pulling at my innocent eyelashes, are we? That’s very un-lady like, angel.” I scolded lightly — trying to focus on walking and not dropping her or the bottle before settling on taking a seat.
I sat on a beanbag in her nursery and slowly tried to pull her away from my face. I then leaned back on the back — rest part of the sofa and placed her little formula bottle on a nearby table.
My emerald green eyes focused on her. Now I had both arms supporting her tiny chest. She was wearing a soft red onesie with little yellow seed patterns around, like a little strawberry. I lifted her up and down. “Oh.. oh! And she’s taking off!” I gasped and had a very bad attempt at a sound effect of what was supposed to be a rocket taking off as I raised her up, her feet not touching my chest. “She’s up in the sky! And.. whoosh!” I turned her left and right.
“Now she’s coming back down..” I slowly settled her so her weight was supported by my hands and her feet on my chest, before I brought her face to mine. “And she’s getting kisses from her daddy.” I let my lips connect with the soft skin of her cheek, her forehead, head and basically everywhere on her face. “Gotcha!” I said, enthusiastically.
I pulled back DARCY a little to get a good look at her face and then I saw the corners of her tiny mouth curled up into a tiny smile as she swung her hands around from joy.
Her first ever smile. She was precious.
She babbled and giggled, her hands coming up to rest on my face. My emerald green eyes focusing on her emerald green eyes. She looked just like you smiling. She had everything in common with you, physically, apart from the eyes.
“Oh my god, that’s a little smile, isn’t it?” I felt my heart melt at the sight.
“And Mr. Cocky is no longer cocky but a big ol’ softie. Do I call you Mr. Softie now?” I heard you tease as my eyes shot toward you. “Oh — hey, you’re home. Also.. no idea what you’re talking about. Anywho.. well, I thought you had to work the night shift..”
“Normal freaked out when Max threatened to punch him, especially since he supposedly had a date and told us we got to go home earlier.” You explained, putting your things down. “How’s our little girl doing?” You asked whilst she pinched my cheeks and leaned forward, trying to mimic the way I gave her kisses earlier. “Happier than usual.” DARCY then babbled. “See, her highness agreed herself.”
“Dah” DARCY babbled once more, squeezing at my cheek. “Yeah, exactly, Dah.” I nodded and softly pinched her cheek between my index and thumb. “Three months old and she’s babbling and cooing like crazy.” You mentioned, my eyes flew to yours. “Just like you.” I teased, laughing.
“Not true!” You gasped. “In fact, very untrue!”
DAY 152 / 2556
DADDYS WORST NIGHTMARE ; TEETHING
DARCY was five months old now. I was working my ass off to keep her sheltered and safe. I had a whole list of things I had to be very careful with before handling her. She was so miniscule and helpless, relying on both of us to take care of her. Hence why I wanted to keep her as satisfied as possible — well.. as satisfied as you can keep a baby.. which isn’t as easy as other people might make it seem.
Although, today, I had a bottle of milk. So I was going in to feed her some more. And as I tried to put the bottle in her mouth, she looked confused before she started flinging her arms around and spat it out, her eyes filling with tears.
“DARCY? Angel, are you not hungry?” I asked, concern evident in my face. I got up and put the bottle to the side, going to her and I wrapped my arms around her, taking her out of the high chair and cradled her, supporting her head and neck. “Oh, honey.” I frowned as she wailed in my arms, her eyes squeezed shut and mouth open as shouts and cries escaped her. And I reached to take her bib off.
I stood up from the chair and started rocking her, “Princess, what’s wrong?” I whispered, her little arms still flung around as she kept her ear-piercing cry going. “Shh, shh.” I tried to figure out what she could possibly need. She was definitely not hungry. “Are you sleepy? Do you need to burp?”
Safe to say, the rest of the day was me panicking and running around the house, trying to figure out what on Gods green earth she could possibly need. Her cries didn’t stop, at all. Which just made me feel so helpless. My little princess just cried in my arms and I didn’t know how to stop it. God, what type of a father was I? Letting my baby girl cry on for hours.
And then I realized when I was exhausted and holding her in my arms in her little nursery, that teething could be it. I pressed my lips together and before I do something I researched about — because yes, I care enough to do research.. I washed my hands thoroughly, and made my way back to her nursery.
I bent over her crib and gently picked her up once again, she was still sobbing and clung to me. She was relying on me, so I had to do something about it. I sat on a chair, settled on it before making sure she was settled and comfortable on my lap.
Then I put my thumb in her mouth to gently rub her gums. They seemed swollen and that just made my heart ache. DARCY seemed to calm down just a little after I kept up the massaging for a little longer. It seemed to ease my worries, too because I finally felt like I could help her. Be her protecter like I had intended to be. Be there for her unlike me — who had nobody to turn too.
I watched as she opened up her teary green eyes and focused them on me. She seemed curious and still a little in pain, but she just looked at me with her little green orbs.
With a tilt of her head, I relaxed in the chair after what felt like ages. I was exhausted, that was for damn sure. I ran left and right and tried to figure out why she was screaming her tiny little lungs out just for it to be due to teething.
But it was worth it seeing her calm down because I helped her.
DAY 365 / 2556
FIRST WORDS AS A TODDLER
SHE was so little just yesterday — I could’ve sworn she was as big as my bicep just a couple days ago. She used to be a little baby crying over everything with those big tear-filled emerald green eyes. Always spitting out the food I tried to feed her. Refusing to cooperate whenever I tried to change her diapers or even confusing me when she cried for no absolute reason.. And now it was her first ever birthday. She was already moving her mouth as if she were about to speak.
I probably would’ve broken down into tears had I not wanted her to look up to me and wanted to think her daddy was brave. Even if she’d forget everything sooner or later.
Little DARCY already a toddler, running around and picking up random objects. Running back to me because she found something and then shows me how to use it ( visually, we aren’t exactly at the point of verbal yet, she’s still too young for that ). Then she’ll give it to me and wait for me to redo every step she did and then wait for her approval, meaning if I had to do it over again or if she was pleased and let me off the hook.
She was precious. Her little emerald green eyes looked like one of a does. They were so big and innocent. Especially with the fact that she was just barely reached a little more than my knees. She had your face — and hair color.. her skin was a mix of both yours and mine.
Today, she seemed impatient, tugging on the fabric of my pants. Her eyebrows were furrowed and she had the cutest expression — where she tried so hard to look mad but ended up looking just so sweet. Her lips pressed together into a pout and her head tilted up to look at my face. “Mah..” She babbled, and I didn’t think much of it before she whined. “Dada!” And that made me pause.
“Dada..” She so desperately wanted my attention. She softened her expression into just a pout. “Dada!” She repeated, pointing at the sink. “Aba.” Back to her little babbles. She then formed her fingers into a C shape to make it seem like she was holding a cup to then signal that she wanted a glass of water.
I was able to compose myself enough to get what she wanted so she didn’t think I was neglecting her. But she said her first word. “Water?” She nodded and I crouched down just a little to grasp at her little hand. Then I felt her tiny hand in mine.
Her hand was still so tiny in comparison to mine. But enough to be able to hold it in my own. And then I slowly moved to the sink in the kitchen in the same speed as DARCY moved, to not overwhelm her. “C’mon, up goes the elevator.” I told her, crouching down fully and stretching my arms out as she let go of my hand to jump into my arms. Her tiny arms barely wrapping around my neck.
And then I wrapped my arm around her, supporting her body as I slowly rose to my feet, she gasped and giggled as I felt her wiggle her legs once they were off the ground.
I reached up and opened a cupboard, grasping for a cup and turning the tap on. “Cold?” She looked at me confused. “Coo — ld?” I said once again, but slowly speaking out every word before she hesitantly nodded. “Whatever you want, princess.” The water hitting the bottom of the sink repeatedly echoed in the silent room.
I reached forward with the cup and filled it with water. “Who am I?” She let one arm go to close and open her hand repeatedly, mimicing a ‘gimme, gimme’ motion.
“Dadaaa!” She huffed, very obviously annoyed with the angry expression. Which reminded him of you. “You two could be the same person.” He grumbled under his breath. “I am dada, yes, good job, angel.” I snickered and brought the cup to her lips. “Drink up.” I watched as her free hand grasped the cup that was bigger than her hand and try to hold it alongside my own hand. “Good girl.” I said, removing the cup from her mouth.
“Drank all of it so quick. You were really thirsty.” I commented, heading to a towel with her in my arm and wiping her mouth with it, all so carefully.
I then tried to place her back on the ground but she refused. “Bah.” She shook her head and I brought her back up into my arms, adjusting my hold on her. “But you’re a big girl, you can walk, princess.” She looked insulted, clearly. And then I laughed, which caused her to break her little act and cause a giggle to escape her lips.
She doesn’t even know the lengths i’d go to be able to keep that smile on her face.
DAY 730 / 2556
UNUSUAL BEHAVIOUR
SHE looked at me with her arms crossed over her chest. “No!” the word that she’s learnt from no other than you. You were being sassy to me and DARCY overheard, which then made her believe that she could be just like you even more and decide to go against my every word. Today being no different. She was throwing yet another tantrum. “You have to sleep, princess.” I was crouching and cupping her face.
“I not sleepy.” She pouted with furrowed eyebrows. “What if we snuggle, hm?” I suggested, raising an eyebrow. She seemed to think about it. “I can join.” You butted in, crouching beside me. “Whad’ya say, little miss?” I questioned, a grin on my face. “But.. blankie evil!”
We both exchanged a look between eachother. “Blankie evil? How? Tell us, we’ll protect you.” I said, slowly ripping my gaze off you and onto the tiny two-year old rascal.
“Blankie trapped me!” She whined. Which elicited an over-exaggerated gasp from me. “No! Really?” You added, jaw dropped. She nodded her head up and down in a quick motion. “Do you have a boo—boo?” I asked, my voice in a low whisper. “Boo—boo?” You bit back a laugh as you looked at me. “Shut up.” I said through gritted teeth.
“No..” DARCY answered my question pretty much quickly after. “And we’ll both be there for you and save you if blankie tried to trap you.” I told her, pressing a light kiss on the top of her head. Her eyes darted between both you and me. Her eyes brighter than ever. “Promise?”
I blinked, “I promise, princess.” I looked over to you. “I promise, too.”
I wasn’t expecting parenting to be easier than what I imagined it to be ( obviously, considering I was the one who thought that ). But in all honesty, I thought raising DARCY would be catastrophic. Explosions and world war breaks out. But I seemed to be doing well — so far. At least I hoped so. She seemed at ease around me. Or maybe that was because of you.
Because you’ve been doing a great job, honestly. It was shocking how well you kept up mentally and were able to stay strong — especially given the fact that you didn’t exactly have DARCY with your own choice. You didn’t have a choice because abortions were hard to get your hands on now — a — days.
I couldn’t help but think. Of course, you tell me I was a good father. But I simply just dropped the asshole act around her. She seemed to have loads of your characteristics.. which I was glad about.
And then I got brought back to now. I was holding her hand alongside yours as I head up the stairs — yes, stairs. I know my apartment doesn’t have stairs within the apartment but.. well, I may or may not have stolen some cash from a rich dude and bought a better house for DARCY to be able to live in. But hey.. no judging — i want
only the best for my little girl.
I watched as she struggled on a couple stairs before bending over slightly and picking her up, holding her close to my chest with my arm supporting her weight. I did almost slip.. and fall, but you holding my hand managed to balance me. “I will not be thanking you.” I replied, in a way more sassy tone than I intended. “Oh, okay, I hope you know I hear all that sass.” I rolled my eyes and kept going up.
“Good for you.” I heard you let out a laugh. “Your cocky and arrogant behaviour used to make me so mad — now it’s just funny because you’re so gentle. Who knew being a girl dad could change a man this much?”
“Uppie!” DARCY randomly blurted out whilst clapping her hands together and her eyes flew between me and you. “Yes, baby, uppie.” You replied, your motherese slipping out. “Says the one who became so freakin’ cute after having a baby.” I pointed out, a stupid grin on my face. Then I felt DARCY shift around in my arms once we reached her room.
“Look, daddys got you, princess, blankie won’t hurt you.” I reassured her, rubbing her back with my free hand and urged you to follow us into the room.
She looked around the room frantically, as if her blanket would come out and attack her. But, I read up and already knew kids could have irrational fears at her age. Hence why patience was all she needed including a bit of safety so she knew that she had nothing to be afraid of. “Can you grab her stuffed animals?” I whispered to you, slightly rocking my body back and forth.
“Mhm.” I watched you go around her bed and bend over, picking up her rabbit stuffie and dinosaur stuffie. “Look who’ll be joining us!” DARCY gasped. “Mr. Din-din!” I slowly lowered her on the ground as she rushed over ro your side.
“Mr. Car-car!” I crossed my arms over my chest and laughed. She was so happy about them it was absolutely heart-warming. She then raised her arms up at you, opening and closing her hands. “Me want up!” She pouted before you picked her up and handed her the two stuffed animals. “You gotta sleep, honey.” We both said simultaneously. “Otay..” ( that’s literally how she pronounced it, don’t make fun of me )
DARCY then got brought to her bed, you placed her down ever so gently. She seemed freaked about the blanket but nonetheless, I settled on the bed beside her alongside you on the other side of her. “Snuggles!” She exclaimed, grinning. And then I wrapped an arm around her, meanwhile you threw her blanket over all of us, yes, including the stuffed animals.
“Daddy..” She whined, grasping at the white fabric of my tee. You turned behind you to turn on her night light and then I focused on her. “Yes, princess?”
“Song sing..” I paused, “You want the song?” She nodded eagerly in response. My eyes shot to yours and you shuffled around on the tiny bed to fit yourself onto the tight space and cuddle up to her other side.
“Anything you want, princess.”
DAY 1095 / 2556
NEW THINGS GOOD & BAD
DARCY was playing around, as usual. A three year old should start to get around more and do things. I read that in a book — yes, I read when I want too. I am a transgenic and intelligent.. doesn’t mean I knew how to raise children. So, I sat down and I read a book about how children act throughout the years. I wanted to be the best daddy for my princess — or prince if DARCY were a boy, of course.
Speaking of her, she took me out of my train of thoughts. “Daddy! Look, that.. that is one tree!” She shouted, pointing at it, she was extremely proud of herself as she ran around on the playground. I was sat on a picnic blanket next to you. “Good job, sweetheart.” You shouted and clapped, cheering her on.
“Careful, angel. Don’t fall!” I yelled, intensely watching her as she began to run around as fast as she could. I lifted my eyes off her for a moment and glanced at you. “I never expected to have a little family with you.. this soon. And.. see DARCY so happy with the.. pulse, trashy town and all.” I finally admit to you, watching as you glared at me. “Me either.”
“She reminds me of you.” I mentioned, my emerald green eyes focused on yours.
“And she reminds me of you, too.”
I leaned forward, cupping your face, connecting my lips with yours, feeling you kiss back.
A shriek made me jump back, eyes wide. “What? —” You looked surprised, too. And my eyes searched around the park. My eyes landed on DARCY laying on the concrete, holding her leg in pain. I immediately sprang toward her, hearing you close behind me. “Angel, angel! Baby, i’m here, i’m here.” I reassured her immediately whilst dropping down onto my knees.
“Are you okay?” You asked, holding the back of her head and helping her sit up slowly. She had tear—filled eyes. “It hurts.” She whined, shaking her hands around and wailing in pain.
“Angel..” My eyes inspected her head, trying to see if theres any injuries there. I didn’t catch any so I inspected her legs, and then I noticed her pants torn open at the knee, she scraped her knee on the concrete. I hissed at the blood that stained the dark fabric. “It’s okay, we’re here. Y’know what, scratch me.” She shook her head. “I dooon’t— wanna hurt you.” She dragged out a couple letters due to her crying.
“Can you bring the medkit?” I asked you, raising an eyebrow. “You brought a medkit? ” “Just incase something like this happened. It’s in my bag.” I pressed a kiss on your cheek before holding up DARCYs head.
“It’s okay, daddy’s here and i’ll make sure it’ll all go away.” I whispered, easing her fears as I picked her up gently and placed her on my lap.
I watched as her emerald green eyes followed you as you ran back. You crouched down, opening up the medkit and beginning to scramble for items. “Sterile wipes for the wound.” I said, eyes focusing on DARCY. “Antiseptic for around the room.”
You gathered everything, “How do you even know all this? I didn’t know you studied medicine —” “Not medicine, just got a lotta wounds to patch up.” It was a half—lie.
DARCY winced when you began the cleaning but I tilted her head up, pointing at a bird in the sky. “Look! That’s a birdd.” I added some more toning to the word bird, and she looked curious. “Can birds fly?” “Yes, angel.” “Can we?” “With a plane.” “What is.. a plane?” “A metal box that can bring us places in the sky.” “Can we go on one?” “Soon.” I laughed at her suddenly forgetting about her wound and jumping to ask questions almost immediately.
“Has daddy had ouchies before?”
“Mhm.”
“Are ouchies bad?”
“I think of ouchies like.. you went through an adventure, the scar of an ouchie reminds you of it. Ouchies can be good and bad.” I tried to make her look at the positive.
“So.. is my ouchie cool?”
“It’ll heal and be the coolest thing ever.” I paused, thinking what to say next. Before I parted my lips, sucking in a breath, “New things can be good and bad. It just matters how you handle it, angel.”
DARCY looked at me with big, curious eyes. “New things.. can.. can be gooood and bad.” She slowly repeated, making sure each word was the same way I pronounced it, tilting her head. “New things.. can be good and bad!” She repeated, this time much more confident with how she said it.
“Exactly.”
DAY 1461 / 2556
PUDDLES AND RAIN
DARCY was just growing up — way too fast. I mean, I could just.. remember her being tiny and — her tiny fingers barely overlapping when they curled around my finger. And now here she was, going backwards and telling me too — “Look! Daddy. I can walk!” I laughed, nodding. “Backwards.” I corrected, crossing my arms over my chest.
We were quite a bit away from home since I picked her up from Logans place — since both he and Max offered to babysit so me and you had time for ourselves. And, lucky for us, it started raining when I had no rain jacket with me and brought one for her just incase.
So now I was soaking wet and having to make sure she didn’t do anything stupid, like run onto the street and get hit by a car.
But the only stupid thing she was doing was genuinely just.. stupid toddler things. And I didn’t complain. That over — deadly stupid things. And she seemed to be having fun. Until — “Daddyy, can we dance?” I was baffled. “In the rain?” My voice was filled with surprise. “Pleasee.” Her tiny, high-pitched voice caused me to break.
“Fine.” And so I reluctantly agreed, reaching out and spinning her around in a puddle. As she stomped whilst dancing and proceeded to splash me with it. “Oh my god —” I bursted out laughing. “Oopsie..” She exclaimed, covering her mouth in surprise that she did that.
I rolled my eyes playfully.
“You’re such a little rascal.”
And she reminded me of you.
DAY 2191 / 2556
HEART OF GOLD
OUR little girl all grown up. Six years old was — an accomplishment. For me.. at least. Especially in this environment and.. the wages we had to live off of. You were still working at Jam Pony, full time whilst I went back to work on and off. Taking care of our girl was most important.
I always wondered how she grew up. Given the circumstances. I wondered if we — I fucked her up in some way.
Having a transgenic as your father could fuck you up in ways — you just wouldn’t notice. At least, until now, I found no trace of her being a transgenic-human mutant thing. Like me. Again, only thing we had in common, our eye colour nothing more, thankfully.
But God, she had a heart of gold. For example, we walked past a garden and she noticed an little boy upset. And she head toward her. “Hi!” She greeted, all cheerful and happy. That big grin displayed upon her lips. “Hi.”
“My name’s DARCY.” A moment of silence exchanged between them “Mine is.. Peter.” “Daddy told me being alone when sad isn’t always...what people want.” DARCY waited a moment before adding, “Do you.. want to be alone?” “No..” Peter replied. And with that, she stood there. And she began making conversation. She was smiling and giggling the whole time. Peter slowly joined along. Her laugh mingling with his in the air.
I was sure she made his day by being so warm and friendly.
Wonder how she got so wise.
DAY 2555 / 2556
GOODBYES
TODAY was the last day i’d see her.
Today was the last day i’d see her.
Today was the last day i’d see her.
Today was the last day i’d see her.
Today was the last day i’d see her.
I couldn’t say that one single word. It was too much. Saying that one word made it official. Too official. I just can’t — right? I should be protecting her. Not whatever i’m doing. I can’t. I should be fighting for her. No child should hear the word ‘Goodbye’. I am the worst father in the world. A disgrace. I got a gift, a blessing. My DARCY. And i’d be throwing it in the trash.
They told me they‘re going to get her and
The ink was blotchy from there forward, making the words unreadable. Fingertips went beneath the next page, a moment of hesitation. You turned the page.
DAY DAY 2556 / 2556
?
SHES gone. I failed her.
JOURNAL ENTRIES ; FINISHED
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WHAT THE FUCK?
The journal ended there. Confusion and fear filled you reading those pages. Why did he keep track of her since birth? Was Alec insane? Did he do something to DARCY? Those questions lingered in your head far longer than anticipated. You knew your little girl had been gone for a month or so. But Alec seemed too busy at the Crash, drowning himself in alcohol.
Even though he never got drunk.
You didn’t know why. It was fucking strange. You spent hours looking for her. And then you stumbled upon a box. Hidden in the ceiling in a little box in the corner. And you found thirteen journals. Each year — except seven had two journals he could write all 365 days in. But he highlighted some.
Were those his favorites? Did he lose his shit and imagine someone came after your daughter when in reality, he was the danger all this time? You shook your head. You shouldn’t try to get conspiracy theorist on a guy who spent day and night showering her with love.
He must’ve had a logical explanation. Right?
Tears filled your eyes. You prayed you were wrong. That you didn’t stay with the man who ultimately turns your life upside down for some sick reason.
And for DARCYS sake.
“I didn’t fucking do anything to her! Why are you accusing me of such utter bullshit!?” Alec shouted, he was fuming. “I loved her to fucking pieces! That was the only wrong I did. I made those journals to read back incase I forgot anything!? Is that such a fucking crime?!”
You stared at him. “Your last entry?” “If you wanna kep on with your conspiracy theories, what’s the fucking point?!”
STRAIGHT TO THE POINT
Alec glared at the men beside Elizabeth Renfro. “As you may know.. manticore was.. well, burnt to the ground. And I.. well, I made another one just incase.. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She trailed off topic due to Alecs disgusted yet surprised stare. “You’re supposed to be dead.”
“Max told you that? Did she ever bother to check my pulse before leaving?” She questioned. Alec went silent. “As I was saying. You’ve got a pretty little partner. Young.. sweet, inlove with you.” Alec scoffed. “Get to the fucking point you old shit —” “They’re pregnant.” “Surprise..? I don’t know where the fuck this is going.” Alec rubbed his temple in frustration.
“We want the child.”
“Over my dead body.”
“I assumed you’d say that. Well, X5-494. You give me the child with legal rules or we will kill your family.” Alec stared at her in disbelief. “You wouldn’t kill a pregnant person —” She laughed, “Oh, no, I wouldn’t. They would, though.” She gestured to the men behind her. “The offer I give you is better than what others wanted. You see.. you can keep the child until the age of seven. After the seventh birthday, my men will get the child. And if you are lucky enough and the child is human.. you’ll get them back. However, if not, we’ll keep them.”
“Fuck you, you sick bitch.” He spat, utterly disgusted by her. “We’ll send you the contract soon.”
“Pleasure doing business with you.” She said with a smile.
MY BABY
Alec stopped pacing, now leaning over the kitchen counter with his hands on his face. “I am a fucking transgenic. A human-like scientist experiment designed to be a fucking soldier. I escaped but manticore seemed to fuck me in the ass.” Alec ran his hands through his hair. “They made a deal to get her at seven years old. If not, they would’ve killed you.” He explained, not really caring if you decided to believe him or not, anymore.
“You’re insane.” You told him, with a shaky voice. “Believe whatever the fuck you want.” Alec was staring at the counter. All he could think of was his baby.
You immediately scrambled to get out of there. You grabbed a few vital things you needed before making yoir way out. “You should’ve helped her, you monster.” Was all he heard from you before his ears echoed the front door slamming shut. Now he was alone with his thoughts. Fuck.
“Daddy?” DARCY called out, heading to the kitchen. Her beady emerald green eyes focusing on me. “I lost my bag at school toooday.” She explained. Alecs gaze softened when his eyes landed on her. He lowered himself onto his knees to be eye level with her. “That’s okay, angel, we can get you a new one.” He reassured, tears filling his eyes.
“Are you okay, daddy? Why are you crying?” She asked, eyebrows furrowed and eyes filled with concern when she should’ve been happy.
“I failed you.” He whispered, hands reaching out to her. “No you didn’t.” She shook her head and wrapped her tiny arms around him. “I love you, daddy.” And then the tears kept flowing. As he went to wrap his arms around her figure — she vanished. And everything seemed empty once again.
He was on his knees, hallucinating his fucking daughter. He has lost it.
OH , MY ANGEL
There was an empty promise I gave DARCY when she was still tiny. ‘I will always protect you.’ And it was outright nonsense. Because he knew from the start he had limited time with her. The journals were to honour her memory — incase..
But that wouldn’t happen. Because he was now going into the manticore building to see his little angel. Have her in his arms again. As long as they haven’t finished their testing — they allowed him to see her now. He wasn’t ready to see her. Seeing her trapped in the very place he was stuck in and so desperately wanted to get out of.
Max was waiting for him outside just incase. And he entered the freshly made Manticore building through the big.. doors.
Two soldiers guided him down the hall. He wasn’t sure what to feel when his eyes flew around the place. The place looked like a mental institution. White, glossy walls paired with gray, marble floor. His eyebrows furrowed in hesitation when a guard put a keycard into some sort-of machinery next to some metal doors.
Uncertainty filled him but he proceeded. Stepping forward. One foot in front of the other. Ever so carefully. His eyes darting around for any bad sign.
And he got what he was looking for.
His heart dropped. And his ears started having a high-pitched ring. The hallway that led to the room the guards brought him too —
Blood.
A path of blood. It was smeared from the room down the hall. It slowly started disappearing at one point.
He paused. The thick maroon colored liquid was blending with the gray floor. He forgot how to breathe, his eyes welled up with tears. And then the guards brought him closer to the room. A bigger puddle of that thick, deep red colour. It was so vibrant — and it most likely came from his little girl.
He had failed her.
He was doomed to be a terrible father from the start.
The song he sang to her seemed hypocritical now. Because it could be interpreted as him singing about her.
“This fire in my — heart,”
“consumes my — happiness.”
“Since we.. are apart,”
“I have nothing.. to hope for,”
“I have nothing.. to cling to.”
“Life for me — has no meaning darling,”
“if I have — to live — it without you.”
“Oh my angel,”
“come back — to me.”
“And I will.. love you,”
“ ‘til eternity”
“Oh my angel.”
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asmutwriter · 3 months ago
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I caved. I watched Big Sky. Fan fic story pending.
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jays-bonnie-on-the-side · 7 months ago
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JENSEN ACKLES MASTERLIST
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most of these will have strong themes so make sure you read the warnings on each piece.
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SERIES COMING SOON
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ONESHOTS
golden hour
description— jensen admits his adoration for reader during an interview at the boys season 3 premiere in paris. karen, who already knows of reader’s infatuation with jensen, overhears and plays matchmaker. and you two couldn’t be more grateful.
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MAIN MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAG LIST
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ALL RIGHTS RESERVED TO JAYS-BONNIE-ON-THE-SIDE
: do not steal, plagiarize, translate, and/or republish any of my works* on here or another platform
*beside my writing, my works include : all banners, headers, dividers, and gifs that i use (which were made by me,) unless otherwise stated.
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wildwestdean · 8 months ago
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impetus
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summary: dean gets targeted by a witch while working a case, and she curses him to yearn for what he secretly loves the most. it seems to have no effect, until it's pointed out that he can't seem to stay away from you - but what happens when he tries to fight it?
pairing: dean winchester x female reader
word count: 9.4k+
warnings: violence, hunting/working a case, mentions of murders, gore, evil witches, reader and dean get attacked, swearing, alcohol consumption, angst, fluff, yearning, mutual pining, idiots oblivious to their own feelings, magical curses, hallucinations, nightmares, depictions of death, depictions of drowning, fighting/arguments, heart-to-heart, confessions, use of [y/n], nicknames, mature themes
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“Right, well, this isn’t creepy at all,” Dean declared, rolling Baby to a stop before switching into park. 
You both sat quietly as you surveyed the desolate building, a feeling of unease washing over you. 
“Maybe we should wait for Sam,” you suggested half heartedly. He was only down at the Sheriff’s station, and it wouldn’t even take ten minutes for him to meet you here, but you knew Dean wouldn’t wait. 
“No,” he said, confirming what you already knew. “Someone else is missing and this is our best lead so far. If you don’t want to go in, that's fine, but I am.” 
“I’m not letting you go in there alone,” you snapped, sitting up as tall as you could despite the pit forming in your stomach. 
“Awe, you worried about me, sweetheart?” Dean teased, turning to look at you with a grin; one that was effectively wiped from his face when he saw the look in your eyes. “Hey, what is it?” 
“I don’t know,” you said honestly, shrugging lightly. “I just have a bad feeling about this.” 
“Bad feeling like what?” he questioned, his brows knitting together. 
You thought about it, trying to pinpoint what it was you felt, but you couldn’t. “Just…. don’t go wandering off,” you ended up saying- begging, more like. 
“Alright,” he agreed easily. “We stick together, and we’ll be in and out before you know it.” 
“Right,” you confirmed with a nod. “Let’s gear up.” 
You exited the car as quietly as you could, making your way around to the back as Dean unlocked the trunk and propped up the panel to the arsenal.
“You and Sam better be right about this,” he muttered, digging out the box of witch-killing bullets. 
Your mind raced through the details of the case: An exsanguinated priest, a dead nun with her tongue ripped out, the president of the high schools abstinence club found without a heart, and various livestock missing various body parts - if this wasn’t a witch, you were a little scared to find out what else it could be. 
“We have to be,” you breathed out, loading your ammo. 
“Can you do me a favour and sound at least a little confident?” he asked playfully, lightly nudging your arm with his own before tucking his gun into his jeans. 
“Sorry,” you said sheepishly, holstering your own gun. 
“It’s alright,” he said earnestly, handing you your favourite knife (one that used to be his before you claimed it as your own). “I’m just not used to seeing you so spooked.” 
You couldn’t help but chuckle quietly as you took the knife from him. “I’m not used to feeling spooked.” 
“We’ll make it through,” he consoled, closing up the trunk. “Just like we always do.” 
“Just like we always do,” you echoed with a nod, following him towards the building. 
The overgrowth brushed your calves as you made your way up the walk, and after a quick survey of the facade, Dean swung the door open after picking the lock. 
“Wait!” you hissed, stopping him before he entered. “Sam does know we’re here, right?” 
You watched as his shoulders shrugged before stepping inside. “Probably.” 
“That’s… comforting,” you sighed, following him across the threshold. 
The two of you did a quick preliminary sweep of the main level before making your way to the top floor, finding nothing of significance in any of the rooms. Making your way back down, you both stopped dead in your tracks as you heard a clatter come from beneath you. 
“Of course there’s a basement,” Dean whispered. “Why wouldn’t the creepy ass witch be in the creepy ass basement of this creepy ass house?” 
“How do you know she’s a creepy ass witch?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at him. “Maybe she’s hot. Or a guy. Or both.” 
He faltered over his response, considering your words for a moment. “I’ll bet whatever tab you drink up at the bar once we end up ganking this bitch. She’s creepy.” 
“Deal,” you grinned, wiggling your eyebrows at him. 
You both chuckled, before another noise from the basement drew your attention back to the case at hand. Dean awkwardly cleared his throat before leading the way in search of the basement entrance, using the occasional noise as guidance. 
“God, I hate witches,” he muttered to himself, slapping away cobwebs as he descended the stairs. 
“I don’t think the witch put those webs there,” you said with a snicker. 
“No, they’re just the one turning this rotting corpse of a house into a lair of evil and despair,” he hissed. 
You rolled your eyes in response, unable to stop the fond smile from creeping onto your face as you made it to the bottom of the stairs. 
A muffled cry caught your attention, and Dean spared you a quick look before running in the direction it came from, you hot on his heels. Coming up on a corner, he slowed to a halt and peered around the wall. 
“It looks clear,” he decided after a moment. “Just be careful,” he added, continuing on his way. 
Upon turning the corner, you were enveloped in the warm glow of candles, which would have been nice, had it not been for the rest of the scene. An altar lay at the far wall, burning candelabras stood in each corner of the room, and the very person you were searching for was bound and gagged in a chair in the middle of the room, surrounded by a circle of candles. 
Dean cursed and muttered under his breath, surveying the room. “I’ll get him, you get the altar.“
“Okay,” you agreed, running across the room. Once you reached the altar, you couldn’t help but stare in shock and disgust for a moment as you took in the sight; all the missing body parts seemingly staring back at you from where they lay soaked in blood. It took Dean shouting your name from across the room to bring you back to your senses, and you quickly upturned the altar as Dean instructed the now freed man to get out as fast as possible and wait by the car. As soon as the contents of the altar were scattered, an ear piercing shriek came from behind you. 
Quickly whirling on your heels, you were greeted by a cloaked figure, who seemingly came out of nowhere. 
“What have you done?” she screamed, dropping her hood as she stared daggers into you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry,” you feigned innocence. “Did I ruin your big plan?”
“You ruined everything!” she shrieked, slowly approaching you. “You’ll pay for this!” 
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” Dean called out from behind her. 
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this?! How many centuries passed by until the circumstances were right? I had it! I had it all! I was one spell away from seeing my love again!” she continued to scream, advancing further towards you as she ignored Dean.
“Back off, Grunhilda!” Dean roared from behind her, drawing his gun. 
“No!” she shrieked, barely lifting her hand in order to easily swing his gun away - and stop you from drawing your own. “You stupid little gnat. You think you can just come in here and mess with things you don’t understand? You think you can take this from me?!” 
Her shouting was drowned out by the sound of your own heart pounding in your ears, your entire body feeling like it was on fire as your throat constricted, the air leaving your lungs and not returning. You felt your bones cracking beneath your skin as your feet left the floor, and you shared a look of terror with Dean before black began to cloud the edges of your vision. 
Without an effective weapon handy, Dean rushed the witch and tackled her to the floor, sending you crashing down. You met the concrete with a thud, and it knocked the rest of your senses out of you. You laid there for who knows how long, fighting off the waves of pain and nausea, willing yourself to move as you listened to the struggle happening a few feet away from you. 
By the time you managed to prop yourself up, Dean was pinned down as she advanced on him, and you desperately looked around for either of your guns. 
“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” you heard her ask, menace laced deep in her words. “To want something so desperately, to feel that desire within your very soul?!” 
Dean struggled against her hold as you struggled to pick yourself up, to at least crawl to a weapon if you had to.
“Well you will,” she sneered, cackling to herself. “You’ll know how it feels. To have what you want the very most to be so close to you, to have it at the edge of your fingertips, only to never be able to grasp it! For it to be the only thing you can think about!”
“Shut the hell up,” Dean seethed through clenched teeth, glaring at her. 
She only stepped closer towards him, cackling to herself. “Your strongest yearning, hidden deep in your heart, will nevermore be yours to part. Be it with sun or with rain, that which brings joy won’t be without pain.” 
“You finished yet?” Dean interrupted, before he had the wind knocked out of him, rendering him silent. 
Moving as quickly as you could without being noticed, you closed in on Dean’s pistol while the witch carried on. 
“Whatever you crave you cannot say, yet you’ll seek it out be it night or day,” she continued, hovering over him. “Consider yourself lucky, you useless toad. I’ve had countless lifetimes yearning to see my love again, and I’ll spend lifetimes more. At least you only have this one measly little life to yearn for what you want.” 
Grasping the gun in your hands, you carefully rose to your feet and steadied yourself to take aim. “Man, you really do talk too much,” you huffed out.
The shot rang out just as she turned towards you, though it was silenced by a roaring wind that accompanied a bright blue light. Within seconds, everything was calm and quiet again.
Fighting every urge you had to collapse back onto the floor, you trudged your way over to Dean in an attempt to help him up. 
“God, I told you she’d be creepy,” he gasped out, groaning as he stood. 
“You want a prize?” you asked incredulously, staring up at him. 
“I wanna get the hell out of here,” he said, ushering you to take leave. “Then I want those drinks you owe me.” 
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After what felt like another entire day, you and Dean had dropped the victim off at the hospital, patched each other up, cleaned out the basement, showered, and filled Sam in on everything that went down. 
“So… she cursed you?” Sam asked curiously, trying to understand. 
“I dunno. She tried to, I guess,” Dean replied nonchalantly. “But [Y/N/N] put a bullet in her. No witch, no curse, right?” 
Sam shared a brief look with you, before turning back to Dean. “Yeah, but… there was no body.” 
“What?” Dean asked gruffly. 
“The witch,” you said. “I shot, but she vanished. What if she isn’t dead?” 
“Well, I feel normal, so I’m gonna say she’s dead,” Dean declared with a shrug. “Now, can we head to the bar? I’m in desperate need of a drink… or twelve.” 
Without waiting for an answer, he quickly stood and donned his jacket before looking back at you and Sam. “You guys coming or what?” 
“Oh, do I have a choice to not go?” you asked playfully.
“You can stay if you want, but your wallet comes with me,” he replied, smiling innocently. 
“Alright, let’s go,” you said with a dramatic sigh, grabbing your own jacket. 
Not long after, the three of you were sliding into a booth in the nearest dive, enjoying the lack of people; you guys seriously needed to decompress. 
“Alright, I’ll be back,” you declared, hopping out of the booth to get the first round of drinks. 
“Make sure you get a tab started!” Dean jokingly called after you. 
You flipped him off in response, taking a seat at the bar after placing your order. While you waited, Sam watched as Dean grew more restless in his seat. 
“Dude, what the hell is your problem?” he finally asked, eyeing Dean as he fidgeted anxiously. 
“What?” Dean asked cluelessly, glancing around the bar. “I’m thirsty. She’s been gone for what, like, half an hour?” 
“It’s… barely been two minutes, Dean,” Sam informed him with an amused grin.  
“Yeah, well. I want my beer,” Dean mumbled, tapping his fingers on the table as he glanced around once more. “I’m gonna go see if she needs help.”
Before Sam could even reply, Dean was already halfway across the bar, meeting you just as you got your final drink. 
“Need a hand?” Dean asked cheerfully, his sudden appearance making you jump. “Sorry,” he added with a snicker. 
“Dick,” you muttered with a laugh, hopping down from the stool. “Here you go,” you added, handing him his beer.
“Awesome,” he beamed, taking the bottle from your outstretched hand. 
He followed closely as you made your way back to the table, handing Sam his drink before sliding into the booth; Dean followed suit, leaving you nestled in between him and the wall. 
The three of you had a few more rounds before Dean slipped away, determined to teach a lesson to the arrogant ass harassing players around the pool tables - just because you didn’t need to hustle people anymore didn’t mean it wasn’t still fun every now and then. You watched him fondly, laughing quietly to yourself as you watched him fumble around with his cue before making a terrible break. Harder than it looks, you could just hear him say. 
Your attention was turned back to Sam when he cleared his throat, and you were met with his questioning gaze. “Does he seem weird to you?” 
“Weird how?” you asked, face scrunched in confusion. 
“I don’t know, strange,” he replied with a small shrug. “Like- like antsy or something.” 
Your eyes flit back across the room to Dean, who was very much in his element as he upped his ante, before focusing on Sam again. “I haven’t noticed anything, Sammy.” 
He sighed in resignation, seeming to already know that would be your response. “It’s probably nothing, just forget I said anything,” he replied, shaking his head dismissively before finishing his drink. 
“If you say so,” you muttered quietly, sipping your drink as you cast a worried gaze across the bar, getting lost in thought.
By the time you each finished another round of drinks, Dean made his way back over to the table; much to the surprise of you and Sam. 
“Done so soon?” Sam questioned, raising an eyebrow at his brother. 
“Yeah,” Dean shrugged, sliding back into the seat beside you.
“But you only played one round,” you said quizzically. 
“So?” Dean wondered, gulping down the rest of his beer. 
“So, you usually play a lot more than that,” Sam pitched in, shifting his gaze between you and Dean. 
Dean sighed, his bottle clanging on the table as he set it back down. “Why am I getting the third degree here? I played a game, he learned his lesson, I got over it. End of story.”
“Okay, grouchy,” you snickered, ruffling his hair a little just because you knew he hated it. Except he really did love it when it was you doing it.
“Whatever, anyone want another round?” he asked with a huff, lightly swatting your hand away. 
“No, I’m gonna call it a night,” you admitted, shifting to slip your jacket back on. 
“Yeah, me too,” Sam declared, starting to stand from the table. 
Dean stood as well, assumingly just to let you out. “Alright, let’s go.”
You and Sam both stilled in your movements at his response, sharing a shocked look with each other. “You’re… coming with us?” 
“Why wouldn’t I?” he asked with a scoff, shrugging his jacket on as he looked questioningly between you and Sam. “Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you guys?”
“We just didn’t expect you to call it a night so early,” Sam explained helplessly. “Gettin’ old, huh?” he added, trying to lighten the mood a little. 
“Yeah, I mean, you barely even wracked up a tab!” you declared with a laugh, before grinning mischievously. “Drinks just don’t agree with you anymore, do they, old man?”
Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes, fixing his collar just to busy his hands. “Okay, alright, one more wisecrack and I’m leaving you both here.” 
Despite the finality in his tone, the amusement dancing in his eyes gave him away - as did the hand he extended to you to help you slide from the booth. 
“Whatever you say, grandpa,” Sam teased, patting Dean on the shoulder before walking away with laughter in his wake. “I’ll be outside!”
You chuckled in response, and the stern look Dean gave you only made you laugh even more. “Yeah, yeah. Hurry it up, chuckles,” he chided, wiggling his fingers at you. He surveyed the bar as you finally took hold of his hand, sliding out from your seat with ease and standing before him. “Ready?” he asked, gaze turning back to look down at you. 
“Yeah, I just gotta go pay,” you replied, nodding your head in the direction of the bar counter. 
“Alright,” he said with a nod. He gave your hand a squeeze, though instead of letting go like he normally would, he held it firmly as he led the way across the bar. 
You followed along quietly, trying your hardest to not read too much into it. Though when you stood before the bar and he had yet to release your hand, you gave him a puzzled look. “Did you wanna go get the car?” you asked hesitantly. 
He looked confused for a moment, as if he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on either, before he cleared his throat with a curt nod. “Yeah. Yeah, I’ll meet you out there. Don’t take too long,” he rushed, giving your hand another fleeting squeeze before shuffling away. 
Strange, you thought briefly, before shifting your attention to the bartender before you. 
As you paid the tab, Dean settled into the driver's seat of Baby, and Sam watched him impatiently drum his fingers against the wheel as he hummed along to whatever song was in his head; and he couldn’t help but snort a laugh as Dean checked his watch one, two, three times since getting into the car. 
“You’re ridiculous,” Sam chided with a laugh, shaking his head. 
“What?” Dean inquired, annoyance clear in his voice. 
“Dude, please tell me you see what’s going on,” Sam pleaded. 
Dean widened his eyes in confusion, glancing around the near empty parking lot before looking back at his brother. “What’s going on?” 
Before Sam could reply, their attention was caught by the opening of the bar’s door when you emerged from the building, a grin forming on your face as you caught sight of them waiting in the car. 
Dean matched your grin, quickly reaching for the door handle and scrambling outside. “There she is!” he greeted happily, opening the back door for you. 
“Fucking idiot,” Sam muttered to himself, staring out the window with an amused grin as you and Dean settled into your seats. 
The three of you made it back in no time, and, having to settle for a single bed when first getting to town over driving for another who-knows-how-long just to find another motel, shuffled out of the car and into your shared room with heavy feet.
“Finally,” Dean muttered with relief, shutting the door behind him as Sam took a seat. “Whoa, whoa,” Dean barked, holding up a hand. “What’re you doing?” 
Sam froze just as he sat on the bed, staring up at his brother. “What?” 
“That’s my bed,” Dean declared with a huff. 
“No, it’s not,” Sam answered with a scoff. “It’s your turn for the couch.” 
“Dude, I’m not sleeping on the pull-out!” Dean declared with finality.
“What, are you kidding me?” Sam asked incredulously. “You got the bed last time!” 
“Yeah, and I just got ragdolled by a crazy ass witch, I deserve a mattress!” Dean argued, stepping towards the bed. “Get up.” 
“No,” Sam argued stubbornly, relaxing further atop the sheets. 
“You guys are ridiculous,” you said with an exasperated sigh, walking across the room. “I’ll take the couch.” 
“Not a chance,” Dean denied, not even sparing you a glance. 
“What, why?” you asked in confusion. 
“First of all, I’m not sharing with Sam,” Dean replied, turning to look at you. “Second, you got it worse than I did. I’m not shoving you on a pull-out.” 
“Oh, please-” you started to argue, before he cut you off. 
“I patched you up myself, [Y/N]. Don’t bother trying to lie to me,” he cautioned. 
You opened your mouth to argue once more, but the look on his face stopped you short. “Whatever,” you mumbled, turning towards the bathroom. “I’m getting ready for bed. Figure this out before I get back so I can actually go to bed, please.” 
The bickering resumed as you quickly retreated, shutting the bathroom door on Dean’s disgruntled declaration of “best two out of three.”
By the time you re-entered the room, you were met with silence. Surveying the surroundings, you found Sam digging through his toiletries bag while sitting in his original spot on the bed. Your gaze snapped over to the couch, where Dean sat looking like a kicked puppy. 
“You went with scissors again, didn’t you?” you asked, raising an eyebrow at him. 
He met your gaze as Sam snickered behind you, causing his face to sour even more. “Shut up,” he mumbled before standing, bristling past you with slumped shoulders. 
You chuckled quietly to yourself and grabbed the spare sheets, quickly making up the pull-out for Dean while he got ready; hopefully he’d be a little less cranky about it all if this was at least already done. 
Once finished, you made your way over to the bed and curled up under the covers. After saying a quick goodnight to Sam, you were asleep before Dean even left the bathroom. 
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Fear gnawed at Dean, his body frozen in place as a cold spread through him, panic clinging to him like ice. He tried to call out to you, but all that left him was a strangled breath as his lungs seized up. He watched as the waves carried you away, further and further from where he stood. By the time his legs finally moved to carry him closer to shore, his feet were so heavy it was as though he was wading through quicksand. 
“No, no, no,” he pleaded quietly, watching as the waters edge never grew near no matter how far he ran. 
Your voice cried out to him, surging him forward even faster as you drifted ever outwards, terror seeping deeper into his bones with every futile step he took.
He couldn’t reach you. 
He couldn’t save you. 
The realisation that you were gone caused his world to come crashing down around him as he fell to his knees. A roaring filled his ears, and he didn’t know whether it was the irascible water that held you captive or the blood racing from his pounding heart. 
As he stayed there - watching the crashing waves for any sign of you, listening for a call of his name, unwilling to move for fear he’d miss you - the water suddenly crept up around him, as if to mock him. 
The sky darkened as he let out an anguished cry, his voice blending in with the storm beginning to brew around him. Yet despite the deafening howls, he heard it clear as day: your voice, calling out to him.  
“Dean.”
The world stilled around him once more, your voice ringing out in a whisper as gentle as the wind. 
“Dean.” 
He stood, frantically searching the horizon for you. He tried to call out, yet his voice still never came. 
“Dean!” you called out, voice booming like thunder from above. 
A small hand gripped his own, pulling him so forcefully he was yanked off his feet. He let out a startled cry, a spark of lightning igniting so brightly before him that he screwed his eyes shut. 
“God dammit, Dean!” 
Another force shook him, and when we reopened his eyes, he was met with the suspiciously stained ceiling of the motel room. He bolted upright, heart hammering against his chest as he looked around. He caught your worried gaze as he wiped the sweat from his brow, trying to steady his breathing as you leaned in closer. 
“[Y/N?]” he gasped out, pushing himself further upright.
His hand reached out automatically, fingers tentatively brushing against your cheek as if to evaluate your solidity. When he was satisfied that you wouldn’t evaporate, he surged forward to wrap you in a desperate embrace; the icy grip of terror finally starting to melt. 
“It was just a nightmare, De,” you soothed quietly, tracing a hand along his back. “Everything’s alright.”
“Yeah,” he said tightly, swallowing the lump forming in his throat as he let you go. “Yeah, it’s fine. I’m alright, get back to bed.” 
“You’re okay?” you questioned, concern laced in both your face and tone of voice. 
“I’m okay,” he affirmed with a nod, casting his gaze aside so you wouldn’t see the panic still swirling within him. 
“Okay,” you said softly, placing a gentle kiss upon the crown of his head before standing from the edge of the pull-out. 
Dean got up after you to grab a glass of water, his heart jumping in his chest as he remembered the sight of you being ripped away by the current. 
“Just a nightmare,” he reminded himself under his breath. “Just a nightmare.” 
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Not having slept another wink after his nightmare, Dean was unsurprisingly the first one up the next morning. Taking it upon himself to get breakfast for the three of you, he found himself at the nearest diner waiting for his order. 
Drumming his fingers impatiently on the sticky linoleum counter, a burning desire to call you began to build within him. Knowing you were likely still sleeping, he decided to busy himself with a stupid game you downloaded on his phone. 
Yet the urge to reach out to you grew tenfold as he sat there, a sinking feeling that it might mean you were in danger starting to take hold of him. Just as his mind began to swirl with questions of what the hell was going on with him, he heard your voice calling his name. 
His head snapped up, expecting to see you sliding onto the stool beside him, ready to give you hell for walking here in search of him all by yourself in a random town. He figured you must’ve known he was here, and it wouldn’t have been a far walk from the motel, but it was still stupid.
Though the words died on his tongue as he realized you weren’t there, and that familiar feeling of dread trickled through him after scanning the diner and not finding you anywhere. 
Another voice called out, this time the waitress, announcing that his order was ready. He met her smiling face with nothing but confusion, her smile faltering for a moment.
“Everything alright?” she asked hesitantly.
“Huh?” he asked, before snapping out of his daze. “Oh, yeah. Just a little too early for me. Thanks-” he paused, squinting to read her name tag. “Thanks, Edna,” he charmed, flashing his signature grin as he gathered the order. 
“Anytime, sugar,” she charmed, her smile perking back up as she sent him a wink. 
With one last - albeit awkward - grin sent her way, Dean quickly left the diner; already feeling lighter for knowing he’d be back at the motel soon. His grin only grew when he glanced across the street and caught a glimpse of you staring back at him, proving that he wasn’t crazy and you really did come to meet him. 
He took a step forward, intending to call out to you, when a truck drove by and blocked you from sight. The grin was wiped from his face and the coffee tray nearly slipped out of his hand when he noticed you had completely disappeared in its wake. 
Fearing the worst once more, he scrambled into the car and quickly called you, firing Baby to life as the line rang. 
“Hey,” you answered with a stifled yawn. “Please tell me you’re getting breakfast. And coffee.” 
“Yeah, I-” he faltered in his response, having to let out a breath of relief as he realized you were safe and sound. “I’ll be back in a few, you and Sammy still there?” 
“Where else would we be?” you asked with a giggle. 
While the sound would normally bring a smile to his face, your words only caused a frown to appear. “You only waking up now?” 
“Don’t judge me,” you teased. “It’s only… ten after seven, I barely slept in.” 
“Just not used to being up before you,” he lied, knuckles turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. 
“Miracles really do happen,” you joked with a laugh. “You sound weird, is everything okay?” you added, worry tinting your voice. 
“Hm?” he wondered, not processing your question right away. “Oh, no- yeah, I-... just didn’t get much sleep.”
“Right,” you said, teetering on the edge of believing him or not. 
“Really, I’m good,” he assured, sensing your apprehension. “I just gotta catch some z’s and I’ll be good as new.” 
“Okay. I’ll see you in a few then,” you relented. “Drive safe,” you added as an afterthought before hanging up.   
The line went dead as he stopped at a red light, his stomach churning as he stared at his reflection in the rearview.
“Just need some sleep,” he assured himself. 
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“Dude, would you quit it with the pacing?” Sam snapped, setting his book down on the table for sheer lack of concentration. 
Dean stopped just long enough to stare daggers at his brother before marching down the library once more. “She’s been gone too long.” 
“She’s been gone an hour,” Sam informed, hands running over his face in exasperation. 
“Exactly,” Dean replied, pointing a finger at Sam in acknowledgment. “Something must’ve happened.” 
“Dude, she’s at the grocery store. With Jack. What the hell could possibly happen?” 
“I don’t know!” Dean exclaimed, arms flailing as he whirled to face Sam. “Something must’ve! She hasn’t answered my last text and it’s been-” he paused, pulling out his phone to brandish the screen. “Seven minutes!” 
“Oh, my god,” Sam groaned, tossing his head back to stare at the ceiling. “I can’t deal with this anymore.” 
“What are you talking about? Aren’t you worried?” Dean asked gruffly. 
“No, Dean, I’m not worried! There’s no reason to be worried!” Sam proclaimed. 
“No reason? She could be dead!” Dean barked, his face taking on an expression of disbelief. 
Sam sighed as he leaned over the table, raising his eyebrows. “Okay, let me ask you this: why, exactly, do you think she’s dead?” 
“Oh, come on, Sam!” Dean grumbled. “We don’t exactly live cookie cutter lives here, you know. One minute she’s returning the shopping cart, and the next she’s got a damn knife in her back!” 
“Dean,” Sam soothed. “You know as well as I do that’s a load of crap.” 
“No,” Dean argued, shaking his head. “We don’t know that. We don’t know anything, you know why?” 
Before Sam could even respond, Dean waved his phone around before dropping it on the table. “Because she won’t answer her damn phone!” 
“Okay, this is actually ridiculous,” Sam declared. “How can you seriously not see what’s been happening to you?” 
“Knock it off, Sam,” Dean muttered, waving a hand dismissively as he began pacing again. “I’m fucking fine.” 
“You’re fine,” Sam repeated incredulously. “You’re friggin’ cursed, Dean!” 
“I’m not cursed!” shouted Dean. “Would you quit it with that crap?” 
“Right, because nothing’s been going on with you lately, right?” 
“Right!” Dean agreed with a huff. 
“You haven’t been, say, I don’t know…. not sleeping? Feeling stir crazy? Getting paranoid?”
“Sam-” 
“No, I’m serious, Dean! How can you not see this?” 
“Because I’m fine!” Dean argued, stalling his movements to gather his phone from the table.
After a few moments of silence, Dean rolled his eyes and found himself once more walking the length of the library. “Okay, maybe I’ve been feeling a little weird lately, but I’ve just been tired - and you know what? I survived worse. So yeah, I’m fine!” 
“Right,” Sam said sceptically.  “And have you… noticed when it is that you feel… weird?”
“I don’t know!” Dean announced frustratedly.
“Dean,” Sam chastised. 
“What?” 
“You’ve been feeling like this all week, and it’s only getting worse. You’ve been like this since that witch cursed you - and don’t say she didn’t. Use your fucking head, Dean! You’re cursed!” 
Dean’s jaw clenched as he tried to remain calm, taking a moment to formulate his response. “You’re insane,” he finally declared. 
“I think you’re the insane one,” Sam contested. “You were cursed to yearn for something, Dean. Only in this case… it’s someone.” 
“What the hell are you talking about?” 
“C’mon, Dean!” Sam pleaded with a laugh. “The only time you get like this is when you’re more than ten feet away from [Y/N].” 
“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean muttered dismissively. 
“You’ve checked your phone another five times since you picked it up.” 
“So?” Dean questioned, failing to resist the urge to check it once more. “I’m worried, not cursed.” 
“You’re worried because you’re cursed!” Sam argued. 
“I’m worried because I lo-” Dean quickly fell silent as the words died on his tongue, his brain firing into total overdrive as he laughed nervously. “I care, that’s why I’m worried.” 
Sam stared at his brother in total disbelief, trying to find a way to make him realize what was going on- or, most likely, acknowledge what was going on. 
Yet before the conversation could go any further, the bunker door screeched open and the sound of your laughter fleeted down to greet Dean, effectively turning his scowl into an affectionate grin. 
“Hope you remembered my pie!” he called out, marching to meet you at the foot of the stairs without so much as a glance back in Sam’s direction. 
“When have I ever forgotten?” you asked, feigning offence as you held out the bag which contained his pie.
“Well,” he started, taking the bag from you. “There was that time in Redford-”
“Hey!” you interrupted with a laugh. “I didn’t forget, they were out!”
“See, I still don’t believe you,” he teased, heading for the kitchen. 
“Believe whatever you want, Dean,” you replied playfully. 
“I’m still waiting for it, you know. You should get me two next time,” he joked, though he was partly serious. 
“Dean?” Sam’s voice tentatively called out.
“Yeah?” Dean replied hotly, keeping his back to Sam as he went to grab a beer from the fridge. 
“Who, uh… who the hell are you talking to?” he asked carefully, surveying the empty kitchen. 
“Hilarious, Sam,” he said dryly, shutting the fridge. “I’m talking to-”
His mouth ran dry as he turned around, being met with just his brother, who was staring with concern from the doorway. 
“[Y/N],” Dean finished weakly. 
“Her and Jack aren’t back yet, Dean,” Sam said carefully, as though talking to a lost child. 
“Yes, they are. They got back, she gave me my pie, we came in here,” Dean said fiercely, his confidence shattering when he went to gesture at the pie he set down moments earlier and found it to be gone.  
“Maybe you should sit down,” Sam suggested, not knowing what to do. 
“I’m fine!” Dean shouted, hovering over the counter. “I’m fine,” he repeated, moreso to himself than anything. 
“Okay, look, how about I try calling [Y/N], okay?” Sam offered, hesitantly walking further into the kitchen. “See when they’ll be back.” 
“They are back!” Dean barked, glaring at Sam. “She was just in here!” 
Sam didn’t know what to say, the fear and concern for his brother crashing down on him. 
“She was just in here,” Dean repeated shakily, meeting Sam’s gaze with confusion. 
“Dean,” Sam started to say, before the familiar tone of your ringtone came from Dean’s phone, cutting through the air like a knife. 
Dean pulled the phone from his pocket, clearing his throat before answering. “Yeah?” 
“Dean, thank god,” you cheered, sighing in relief. “Listen, we came out to a flat tire and I don’t have a spare because I forgot to fucking replace it and there are too many people around for Jack to, you know, try fixing it,” you rambled anxiously. “Can you please come help?” 
“You’re still at the store?” Dean clarified, looking up at Sam with frightened eyes. 
“Yeah, we’re stuck in the parking lot,” you told him breezily. 
“Okay,” he said, swallowing thickly. “Alright, I’ll be right there.” 
“Thanks, De!” you said happily, ending the call. 
Dean stood there for a few moments staring down at his unopened bottle of beer on the counter, trying to gather his thoughts, before finally lifting his gaze to Sam.
“I’ll, uh…. I’ll be back,” he told him, not waiting for a response before trudging out of the kitchen.
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You found yourself yet again rushing down the hall to Dean’s room, his muffled yells waking you in the dead of night once more. 
He uttered your name as you shut the door behind you, and though it took you by surprise the very first time it happened - nearly two weeks ago, now - it was something you’ve almost come to expect. It was killing you, watching him go through this every night and not being able to fix it. You would sit with him, find ways to gently rouse him from his terror filled slumber and comfort him when he woke, but it never seemed like enough; he deserved more.
At first you didn’t think there was too much going on, figuring his shift in behaviour was just due to his lack of sleep. You didn’t believe Sam when he talked to you about it; Dean may have been acting a little more strange than usual, but it didn’t raise any red flags.
It wasn’t until the morning following your conversation that you noticed it, cluing in and realising how different Dean had been; how long he’d been different. The excess text messages, the increase in phone calls, the insistence on you not going anywhere without him and his exuberant reactions to you getting back safe when you did go somewhere without him, his constant questioning on where you were or where you’ve just been. Something else was going on, and you could only think it really did come down to the witch you two encountered.  So you and Sam called up Rowena, getting her take on the situation and figuring out what to do. 
Her words now echoed through your head as you perched yourself on the edge of his bed: “Magic isn’t simple. Some curses are anchored by the witch, ending whenever they were to die. But others are more complex, rooted not in the witch but the object of the curse itself, not breaking until their purpose is carried out one way or another. Perhaps if you can figure out what it is Dean needs, you can break the curse yourselves. If this carries on for any longer… I’m worried it will kill him.” 
While you ran your fingers through his hair, you decided right then and there that once he woke up, you wouldn’t leave without confronting him about it. You knew it would likely start a fight, and you felt a little guilty knowing you would all but interrogate him right after having another nightmare, but all that guilt flew right out the window the second Dean startled himself awake, the sight of his panic stricken face as he gasped for air nearly bringing you to tears; you’ve seen him like this too often as of late. 
“It’s alright, Dean,” you soothed, reaching out to him. “I’m right here, everything’s fine.” 
His gaze snapped to you, unable to hide the confusion and terror still coursing through him despite the relief he felt. “[Y/N]?” 
“Yeah, De,” you cooed, running a hand across his shoulder blades. “We’re in your room, everyone’s okay.” 
He let out a shuddering breath, hanging his head in his hands. “You’re okay,” he whispered softly. “You’re okay.” 
You sat quietly with him for a few more minutes, patiently comforting him as best as you could while you thought of how to approach this conversation. 
Clearing his throat, Dean was the first to speak again as he rose from the bed. “Sorry I woke you again.” 
The dejection and shame laced in his voice tore your heart to bits, and you had to put up a good fight to keep your emotions in check. “You don’t need to apologize.” 
“Yeah, I do,” he disagreed, trudging to his sink in the corner. 
“Dean, please talk to me,” you pleaded, watching as he turned on the water. 
You fell silent, waiting for him to deny you and brush you off again. You waited for him to say something, to do something, but all he did was stare at the running water. 
“Dean?” you asked cautiously, slowly getting up from the bed yourself. 
“I can’t save you,” he muttered quietly, his gaze on the faucet unyielding. 
“What?” you asked curiously, not knowing what he meant. 
“I can never save you,” he carried on. “You always just… slip away from me. Every time. It’s always the same.” 
“What’s always the same?” you questioned, moving closer towards him. 
“I try,” he muttered, seemingly oblivious to your presence. “I run, and I fight, and I try, but I can never reach you. I can never get to you.”
He seemed to snap out of his daze a little, moving to splash water over his face before turning off the tap. “You keep dying. I keep watching you die. I can’t watch you die again, [Y/N]. I can’t.” 
“This is what your nightmares have been?” you wondered. 
He fell silent again for a minute before meeting your gaze in the mirror. “Yeah.” 
“It’s not real, Dean,” you told him softly.
“It’s real enough for me,” he muttered, turning to face you. 
“And is this why you’ve been… acting differently towards me?” you asked hesitantly. 
He averted his gaze, hanging his head as he considered your question. “I guess,” he said with a shrug. “Maybe, yeah. I don’t know.” 
“Dean,” you scolded with a sigh, plopping back down on the bed. “Why won’t you just tell me what’s going on?” 
“Because everything’s fine!” he argued once again. 
“I’m not stupid, Dean!” you challenged. “I know you. I can see something's eating you alive and it’s fucking killing me to witness it. So please, tell me what the hell is going on.” 
“It’s just nightmares,” he lied, crossing his arms against his chest. 
“It’s more than nightmares!” you cried. “You’re withering away into nothing, Dean! I mean let’s face it! You’re practically a zombie nowadays with how little sleep you get, you’ve been acting like a puppy with separation anxiety, and let’s not forget how completely erratic you’ve been.”
He glared at you, jaw clenching as he decided whether or not to entertain this conversation. “Okay, so maybe I haven’t slept lately,” he admitted starkly. “But like I keep saying, I’m fine.” 
“Don’t you ever get tired of lying?” you sneered, glaring up at him. 
He rolled his eyes, averting his gaze to anywhere else as he shook his head. “No, but I’m getting tired of having this conversation all the time.” 
“Well too bad!” you yelled, abruptly standing from the bed. “Cause I’m tired of never having this conversation go anywhere! I’m tired of you brushing off the idea of you being cursed. I didn’t believe it at first either, but what the hell else could it be, Dean?” 
“Oh, come on!” he barked, running a hand over his face. “I see Sam got his hooks into you.” 
“Yeah, he did. And you need to listen to us.” 
“No, I really don’t,” he scoffed, starting to head to the door. 
“Even if it kills you?” you blurted out. 
“It’s not gonna kill me!” 
“God, look at you, Dean! It already is!” you argued, marching closer to him. “How would you feel if the situation were reversed?” 
He let out a sigh, pausing with his hand on the doorknob before turning back to you. “What?” 
“What if it were me going through all this instead of you? Would you let me get away with not even listening to you and Sam?” 
He narrowed his eyes at you, staring at you in silence for so long you expected him to turn away again. Instead, he let out a deep breath as he took a seat, gesturing for you to carry on. “Five minutes.” 
You almost went to argue before you thought better of it, knowing full well that if Dean never came around to the theory he would actually cut you off at the five minute mark. So, you did your best to recount the entire situation for him, reiterating what you, Sam, and Rowena had to say about it all in the hopes of getting through to him. By the time you finished, you knew it was well over five minutes, so you took Dean not interrupting you to be a good sign. 
“Okay,” he finally said with a small nod. “Well, I listened. Can I go now?” 
Your heart dropped to your stomach, anger and fear bubbling inside of you as you exploded. “God, you are unbelievable!”
“Well what do you want me to say?” he grumbled. “I just don’t believe that’s what’s going on.” 
“How can you not believe it?” you asked incredulously. “It’s obvious!” 
“Look, I said I don’t believe it, alright?” Dean snapped. “Why are you so hellbent on making this into some big fight? Just accept it.” 
“No!” you seethed. “I can’t just accept the fact that this could kill you. Especially not when there’s a way we could end this.” 
“No,” he disagreed, shaking his head. “You can’t fix this, [Y/N/N]. You just can’t.” 
“I can!” you cried. “Just tell me.” 
“Tell you what?” 
“You know what,” you scolded. 
“This is so fucking ridiculous.” 
“Tell me anyway.” 
“Why the hell do you care so much?” he questioned exasperatedly. 
“Because I’m fucking terrified, Dean!” you exclaimed. “I’ve watched you grow more restless and anxious every day since the night we finished that case. I’ve seen the life drain from you more and more as sleep became nearly impossible for you. And I know it’s nearly impossible for you, because I have spent the last eleven nights sitting on that bed as you got terrorised by your own mind. I don’t care if you believe in this curse or not, Dean, because I do.” 
Dean stood quietly, absorbing what you said as the severity of the situation began to dawn on him. 
“I mean don’t you get it?” you asked sadly, cutting through the silence. “If something happens to you, if I lose you… that’s not something I can come back from.” 
Dean fell silent once more, running a hand through his hair as he took a deep breath, pacing around the room a little as he turned everything over in his head. 
“I’m scared, Dean,” you reiterated softly. “Please, just let us try to fix this.” 
“There’s some things I should tell you, then,” he admitted quietly after a moment of silence, taking a seat on the bed. 
“About what’s been happening?” you asked hopefully. 
He nodded, staring down at his hands folded in his lap. “Yeah.” 
“Okay,” you said, moving his desk chair to take a seat. “I’m listening.” 
He took a bracing breath, taking a few minutes to build the courage to speak. “Well, you know I’ve been having nightmares.” 
“I do,” you agreed quietly. 
“It’s always the same one,” he admitted, keeping his gaze cast downwards. “I could never figure out why. It didn't make sense to me why it was always the same thing. So I finally talked to Sam about it, and he had a pretty good theory. But, you know me. I didn’t want to believe it because it came back down to that witch and this stupid fucking curse.” 
He let out a bitter laugh, pausing long enough for you to speak up. “What did he have to say about it?” 
“I tried telling myself I was fine,” he continued, ignoring your question. “I was fine, at first. At first it was just not sleeping well… but then other things started happening.” 
“Other things like what?” you wondered quietly. 
“Like my blood feeling like it’s on fucking fire,” he muttered, wiping at his face. “And my skin feeling like it-… like it’s being peeled off my goddamn bones, and my face feeling like it’s melting… and how I get this- this bubble inside my chest that feels like it’s either gonna burst or suffocate me and how it all only happens-” he stopped in his rambling, taking a deep breath before chuckling in disbelief. “God, it only happens when you’re not around, [Y/N].” 
“I-... what do you mean?” you asked breathlessly. 
“Oh, come on, [Y/N],” he said bitterly. “I know you’ve noticed. I text you more, I’m almost always calling you. I just- I get this… this unwavering panic inside me when you’re not around. I keep-... I swear to god I see you everywhere when you’re gone. I catch sight of you across the street, I smell your stupid shampoo when I’m alone, I hear your voice when no one’s there. I had an entire conversation with you and you weren’t even there,” he carried on, shaking his head as he briskly wiped away an angry tear. “God, I’m going fucking crazy,” he added with a manic chuckle. 
“You’re not crazy, Dean,” you said gently. 
“That night,” he started, staring at the wall across from him. “She was trying to get back someone she lost… someone she loved.” 
“Right,” you agreed. 
“They used to drown them, people they accused of being witches,” he continued slowly. 
“Yeah, it was pretty common. Sink, and you were innocent. Float, and you were guilty,” you pitched in. “But… what does that have to do with this?”
“I think they were innocent,” he said simply. “Whoever she lost… I think that’s how she lost them.” 
“Why do you think that?” you asked curiously. 
Dean cleared his throat, staring pensively at his hands once more. “The nightmares. It’s always… you always drown. I keep-... I can never save you.” 
“I don’t get-” you started to say, before he cut you off. 
“It’s how she lost who she loves, [Y/N],” he said curtly. “It makes sense for me to see the one I love go the same way.” 
“I-... what?” you asked, too stunned to think of anything else to say. 
“The dreams, the hallucinations, the- the way I’ve been feeling… I didn’t want to admit it, I still don’t, but I can’t… I mean I can only ignore it for so long, right?” he said, scoffing quietly. “Especially with you and Sam breathing down my neck about it.” 
“Ignore what, Dean?” you asked breathlessly, your heart hammering in your chest. 
“You,” he muttered. “They way I feel about you. The way I’ve always felt about you.” 
You didn’t dare respond, his words ringing in your ears as he fell silent, each of you lost in your own thoughts for a while. 
“I’ve always known that I love you, [Y/N/N],” he carried on, slowly meeting your gaze with glistening eyes. “But this… this curse, this whatever it is. God, it’s just made it all so much worse, and I knew. I knew it was you that my entire being was screaming out for but I couldn’t… I couldn’t admit it.” 
“Why not?” you asked shakily, feeling your tears starting to build. 
“How could I put that on you?” he asked, a few rogue tears slipping down his face. “You said it yourself, this thing is killing me. It’s gonna kill me, unless I get what I want, and given that that’s you, I’m calling it game over.” 
“No, Dean, it’s not,” you denied with a sniffle, cutting through your own stray tears. “You should’ve told me.” 
“Yeah, well,” he grumbled, shrugging lightly as he looked back at his hands. “I told you now.” 
“Dean,” you sighed, wiping your face as you stood from your seat. “Do you trust me?” you asked, walking towards him.
“Of course I do,” he said quickly, almost offended by the question. 
“Okay, well, I’ll need you to trust me on this,” you replied, stopping just in front of where he sat. 
“Okay,” he said with a huff. 
“You gotta look at me, though,” you said, laughing softly. 
Sighing dejectedly, he slowly lifted his head to meet your gaze, a ghost of a smile dancing on his lips as he looked at you. 
You smiled softly at him, gently taking his face in your hands before wordlessly bringing your lips down to meet his. At first, neither of you really knew what was happening, and just when you thought to pull away you felt his lips moving against your own. His hands gripped your waist to hold you in place a moment longer before you each pulled away, staring silently at each other as you processed what just happened. 
“What, uh… what was that for?” Dean finally asked. 
“Well, it was either that or slapping some sense into you,” you said playfully. “Which I almost think you still deserve, because I can’t believe you honestly think I don’t love you back.” 
“What?” he asked, his grip on your waist loosening in shock before tightening once more. 
“You’ve had me since the day we met, Dean,” you told him softly, carding your fingers through his hair. 
“You actually…” he trailed off quietly, trying to focus his thoughts. “You actually love me, of all people?” 
“Yeah,” you said quietly. “I do.” 
“So I- well, I guess I could’ve saved a lot of trouble if I really did just tell you, huh?” he asked jokingly, laughing tightly. 
“I’ll give you hell for it tomorrow,” you teased, half serious. “For now, how about we try getting you back to sleep?” 
“Actually,” he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. “I have a better idea involving this bed.” 
You couldn’t help but snort a laugh, grinning fondly at him. “Oh, really?” 
He grinned back, laughing with you before taking on a more sombre tone. “Do you trust me?” 
“Always,” you said honestly. 
“Good,” he replied with a grin, laughing heartily at the shriek you let out when he tossed you on the bed. 
He stared down at you, a look you’ve never seen before painted on his face. “What?” you asked, giggling nervously.
“I love you,” he said earnestly, brushing a lock of hair away from your face. 
“I love you, too,” you replied shyly, grinning softly. 
He matched your grin, drinking you in a moment longer before crashing his lips upon yours once more. 
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When Dean woke the next morning, it didn’t take long for a grin to spread across his face as he quickly realized two things. 
The first thing being that you, the love of his life, still remained tangled up in both his arms and the sheets, sleeping peacefully atop his chest. 
The second being that, for the first time in a total of thirteen days, he was able to sleep without being haunted by his nightmares. 
He felt you stir, and his grin widened as you nestled in closer, tightening your grip on him as you slept. He planted a kiss against your temple, pulling you in close as he blissfully settled in for another peaceful rest. 
Maybe witches aren’t so bad.
tagging: @roseblue373
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dulcescorderitas · 1 month ago
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getting tired while riding dean
parings: dean winchester x reader
warnings: 18+, smut
your thighs were burning, trembling with the effort of holding yourself up as you rode him, your nails digging into his chest for balance. dean’s hands rested on your waist, his grip firm but not forceful, just enough to guide you as you moved. sweat slicked your skin, sticking it to his, and the air in the room felt thick, charged with every breathless sound you made.
but God, you were getting tired. your movements slowed, hips faltering as the ache in your legs grew sharper. "baby," you gasped, voice ragged, your head tipping forward, your hair falling into your face.
dean looked up at you, his green eyes warm, soft even in the heat of the moment. "you okay?" he asked, voice husky but tinged with concern. his thumbs rubbed gentle circles against your hips, a small, grounding comfort even as his body begged for more.
"just... legs," you muttered, barely coherent, too lost in the tension coiling low in your belly.
a small, crooked smile spread across his face, the kind that always managed to make your chest feel light no matter the situation. "aw, my girl’s runnin’ outta gas," he teased lightly, but there was no bite to his words, just a sweetness that only dean could pull off. "don’t worry, sweetheart. i gotcha."
before you could respond, his grip on your hips tightened, and he planted his feet against the mattress for leverage. with a low grunt, he began moving you, his strength taking over as he thrust up into you, his hips meeting yours with a steady, purposeful rhythm. your gasp turned into a cry, your hands clutching at him as he took control.
"that’s it," he murmured, his voice low and soothing despite the roughness of his movements. "just let me take care of you, baby. you feel so damn good... always do."
you could only moan in response, the way he filled you sending sparks of pleasure up your spine. dean’s eyes never left yours, even as his jaw clenched and his brows furrowed in concentration. "but we gotta hurry," he said between breaths, his voice tightening with the effort. "sam’s gonna walk through that door any minute, and as much as i like showin’ off, i don’t think he’s ready for this kinda performance."
the mention of sam barely registered in your haze, but dean didn’t let up, his thrusts coming faster, deeper, as his fingers dug into your hips to hold you steady. "c’mon, baby," he coaxed, his voice dropping into that gravelly tone that always made you weak. "let go for me. i wanna feel you, just once more before we have to stop."
the heat inside you boiled over, your body tightening around him as your climax hit, pulling a guttural groan from deep in dean’s chest. he followed right after, his movements growing erratic before he stilled, his grip on you ironclad as he spilled into you, his head falling back against the pillow with a shaky exhale.
for a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of your mingled breaths. dean’s hands softened on your hips, sliding up to your back to pull you down against him. "there’s my girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple, his lips lingering there.
you barely had time to catch your breath before the sound of a car door slamming outside made both of you freeze. dean let out a soft laugh, running a hand through his hair. "guess we cut it a little close, huh?"
you could only smile, too dazed to care.
taglist: @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @legalmente-loca @bluemerakis
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cowboysandcigarettes · 2 months ago
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show me who you are ─
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the mark of cain weighs heavily on dean's shoulders, affecting all of you. when the bloodlust becomes too much, you know you have to help him. in the only way you can think of.
cw ─ slight angst, mark of cain!dean, very slight mention of sa/non-con (not from dean), blood, gore, canon-typical violence, smut!, fem! reader, praise kink, dirty talk, rough sex, overstimulation, fingering, unprotected p in v, sorry if i miss anything else!
☆ 💿PORNSTAR - nessa barrett
i wanna hear you talking dirty,
i wanna see it on your face.
it was getting worse, you could all see it. you, sam, cas - hell, even crowley could see it. the mark was slowly killing dean, and it was only getting worse.
it wasn't as obvious at first, just small outbursts here and there, but surely enough, it became more obvious. he was more snappy than usual, spent more time alone, and he would zone out more, hands either clenched into fists or one was clasped tightly over the mark on his forearm.
you didn't bring it up to him, that was the silent agreement that you, sam and cas had come up with, and you obliged to it. so you didn't tell dean how the far away look in his eyes made your brow furrow and your stomach churn with worry, or how your heart broke every night when you could hear him wake himself up from his nightmares. you didn't tell him how seeing him struggle, and refuse help, was slowly but surely breaking you down, and you definitely didn't tell dean that you missed him.
sure, he was right there, just down the hall from you, close enough that you could hear him in the ungodly hours of the night, restlessly rummaging around his room, but he still wasn't there. not the real him, not the dean that you knew. the dean you knew was being held captive by that horrid mark that not only haunted his dreams, but yours now too. you missed your dean, the one who told stupid jokes that made you choke on your beer. the dean who grinned proudly whenever you correctly named a song on the radio and who would sing a long loudly to his favorite led zeppelin songs, glancing at you as he drove.
drives are mostly silent now, save for the hum of the impala, or the quiet background noise of the radio, but still never those homemade tapes that he loved so much. he doesn't drink with you anymore, though he still does it an unhealthy amount. he drinks alone in his room, or late at night by himself in the kitchen, a glass of whiskey in his hand, his eyes staring somewhere far off. the only reason you even know this is because one night, when you couldn't sleep, you went to the kitchen for a glass of water and found him there, only to have him get up and leave with only a nod of acknowledgement to you.
it was killing him, and if you didn't do something about it, it was going to kill you too.
the hunt was supposed to be a cakewalk. it was just a nest of vampires not too far from the bunker, and dean insisted that he was fine, that the mark's screaming wasn't too much for him to bear and he was feeling good enough to go with you guys on the hunt.
after sharing a look with sam, you reluctantly relented, agreeing to let him come along under the condition that if he felt the bloodlust creeping in, he would back off and stay behind in the impala.
that leads to now, where you were currently kicking yourself for not doing recon before going in. the nest was bigger than you and sam had originally thought, there were probably double the amount of vamps than you had previously thought, and when you, him and dean had crept into the nest, one of the freshly turned ones - a child, no less - had spotted you and screamed, awaking the whole nest. and so here you were, wrestling with one of the female bloodsuckers on the grimy floor of the abandoned barn.
her dirt-caked nails raked down the sides of your neck, making you hiss in pain as you brought your knee up hard, hitting her in the stomach, effectively pushing her off of you. as soon as she was on her back next to you, you scrambled up, quickly grabbing your machete that the bitch had knocked out of your hands and turning back to her. without even giving her a chance to bare her fangs, you raise your bloodied machete over your head, bringing it down with a cry, cutting her head right off.
taking a second to breathe, you stand up, panting heavily as you brush some hair out of your face, turning your head to the side to spit out some blood, running your tongue over your teeth to get rid of the taste. your moment of rests is cut short though, when you hear a loud thud and the sounds of a struggle from the room next to you.
gripping your machete tighter and taking a deep breath, you rush out of the room you had been in, leaving behind the bodies of the three vamps you had killed. you sprint out the door, crashing through the room next door, your heart racing as you see sam in a struggle with two bloodsuckers.
you rush over, cutting the head off one before he even has the chance to fully turn around. the other one drops sam in surprise, turning to you and snarling, his disgusting rows of fangs glinting in the low light. using the vampire's moment of distraction, sam grabs his own machete and raises it, slicing the vamp's head clean off.
"you okay?" you ask, chest heaving as adrenaline courses through your veins.
sam nods, raising a hand to brush his hair back from his face, his own erratic breathing evidence of the fight. "yeah. yeah, i'm good. are you?"
"one of 'em got me good with her nails, but nothing fatal," you answer, tilting your head to show him the marks. he winces in sympathy, eyes raking over the angry red marks before he bends down to pick up a vial of dead man's blood. "where's dean?"
"not sure, i lost him once they jumped on us," sam says, brows furrowing as he pockets the dead man's blood, adjusting his grip on his machete. "maybe we should-"
whatever sam was going to say is cut off as a scream comes from the floor below. you and sam share a look, fear spiking in your chest before you both turn, racing out the door. you sprint through the hallway and down the stairs, sam right on your heels as you skip steps, landing shakily at the bottom. your eyes scan the landing, and you turn to call out to sam, but before you can get a word out, a hand grabs your arm, throwing you across the room.
you hear sam call your name behind you, but he gets cut off, and you assume that he has a vamp of his own to deal with. you push yourself up with a groan, but as your sitting up, a hand grabs your arm again, hauling you up and slamming you against the wall.
"well, would ya look at this," the vamp spits, his yellow stained teeth shown in a grin as he leans in, his putrid breath in your face making you want to vomit. "the winchester's brought their little girl toy. how nice of them to bring us a gift."
"go to hell," you spit, the words strained as his hand fists in the collar of your shirt, pressing against your neck as he raises you higher against the wall.
the vamp only grins wider, running his tongue over his small, cracked lips. his dark, greasy hair falls in front of his eyes, and his bloodshot blue eyes make him look crazed. he's bleeding from a fresh cut on his forehead, and you wonder if one of the boys had already got into it with him.
"ooh, and she's feisty," he snarls, smirking cruelly. he raises his other hand to brush his grime-covered fingertips over your forehead, running them through your hair.
you turn away from his touch, struggling in his vice-like grip as bile builds in your throat, but his smirk only grins, a low, dark chuckle leaving his crusted lips.
"that's just fine," he whispers, his hot breath fanning over your skin as he leans in to nose at your neck, inhaling deeply, ignoring your struggle in his grip. "i like it when they fight back."
his words make your heart pound, your chest tightening with panic, eyes wide with fear as you struggle in his tight grasp, arms flinging and nails scratching at anywhere you can reach, but he doesn't even flinch, his grip not loosening at all. you open your mouth to scream, hoping to get the attention of one of the boys, or anyone that will help you at this point, but the hand that was in your hair slaps over your mouth just as you part your lips, your scream muffled into his palm.
"ah-ah, be a good girl and stay quiet," he tuts, pulling back to bare his fangs to you. you just stare at him, eyes wide with fear as you continue to struggle in his hold. you squeeze your eyes shut as he leans in again, a tear slipping down your cheek.
"let her go."
your eyes snap wide open at the familiar voice of dean, gaze landing on him over the vamp's shoulder, relief filling you at the sight of him. he was standing there, blood splattered all over his clothes, face and hair, his grip white-knuckled on his machete. sam stands behind him, his own eyes wide with fear as they flick between dean and you in the monster's grip. you try to call out to them, but the sound comes out as a muffled whimper against the vamp's hand.
the bloodsucker turns his head to look behind him, his smirk faltering at the sight of dean. his fangs retract, but his grip on you stays vice-like.
"well if it isn't dean winchester," the vamp snarls, his hand over your mouth tightening slightly, making you wince. "come to save your little doll?"
dean's jaw clenches, his expression darkening even further as he stares at you and the vamp, taking a menacing step forward.
"i said - let her go," he growls, something dark flashing in his emerald eyes.
the vamp's eyes widen in fear at the look on dean's face, and his grip on you loosens slightly. that's the opening you need, and with all the strength you can muster, you bite down hard on his hand, simultaneously kicking your leg as hard as you can into his crotch.
the monster cries out in pain, his hands dropping you as they fly to where you kicked him. you fall to the floor with a small thud, catching yourself before you hit your head. you quickly stand up while the bloodsucker is distracted, and sam immediately rushes over to you, grabbing you and pulling you into his arms, backing you away from dean and the vamp.
"sam, wait, dean-"
"the mark's got him right now," sam cuts you off, his voice thick with worry as he holds you to him, soothing your trembling form. "we just gotta stay out of the way, there's nothing we can do."
his words sink in, and it's then you realize that the barn is quiet. your eyes widen in realization, and you turn your head to look up at sam, heart pounding in your chest.
"he killed them all?" you ask, your voice just barely above a whisper. sam's grim nod is enough to make you feel sick.
your attention is torn from that information as you hear the vamp cry out in pain, and when you look up, you see dean's got him on the floor, the vamp's head twisted at an odd angle as dean steps on his back, machete raised over his head.
"this is less than you deserve for touching her, you disgusting son of a bitch," dean spits, and you watch in horror as he raises his machete over his head, bringing it down in one smooth stroke, blood splattering across his face as he cuts the vamp's head clean off.
the barn is silent, save for dean's heavy breath and the pounding of your heart. dean's sleeve is torn, and you can see the mark pulsing an angry red, burning into his skin, the sight making your chest tighten even more.
dean doesn't move, he just stands there, chest heaving and eyes blazing as he stares at the dead body of the vamp, his knuckles white as he grips the machete, blood dripping from the blade onto the old wooden floor.
your heart aches in your chest, and you pull yourself from sam's arms, giving him a reassuring look when he tries to stop you. taking a deep breath, you take a small step towards where dean stands, your body still shaking slightly from adrenaline.
"dean?" you call softly, your voice gentle, trying not to startle him. you don't flinch when his eyes snap up to you, and though his body is still tense, you can see something soften slightly in his gaze when it lands on you. "can you put the machete down, please?"
to your surprise, he does as you ask, the blade falling to the floor with a clatter that echoes through the empty barn. you take that as an invitation to step closer, your eyes never leaving dean's as they follow your movements, his lips parted slightly as he breathes.
when you reach him, you tentatively reach your arm up, placing your hand on his arm, but he jerks back, sucking in a breath as he seemingly snaps out of whatever haze he was in. he takes a step back from you, eyes flickering between you and the severed body of the vampire on the floor.
"let's just go," he says, his voice hoarse and cold. with one last flickering glance up to you, he bends down to grab his machete before turning on his heel and walking to the entrance of the barn.
the drive back to the bunker had been silent and filled with a suffocating tension that made it hard for you to breathe. once you were back inside the bunker, it wasn't any better, dean not saying a word as he storms ahead, rushing off to his room and closing the door abruptly behind him.
you and sam don't say much as he checks over you for any serious injuries, and you for him. he just hugs you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before heading to his own room. you follow suit, shedding your bloodied clothing in your room before grabbing a change of clothes and heading to the bathroom attached to your bedroom, which the boys had agreed to give you as one of the few that had it's own bathroom.
in the shower, you turn the heat all the way up, scrubbing the blood from your stained skin, washing off the hands of the vamp who had grasped you. you rub until your skin is raw, and even though you did the other day, you shave, just to feel that sense of normalcy instead of the sickly unease that crawls in your nerves. you wash your hair twice, ridding yourself of the blood and dirt you had collected in the barn, sighing as the steam melted against your skin.
as you stood there under the burning stream, you thought about dean, about the look in his eyes, the empty way he had walked away from you, and all of the pain he had been going through since he had taken the god-forsaken mark. you knew that the guilt from succumbing to the blood lust weighed heavily on his shoulders, and you just wished that there was some way you could focus that anger, that need on something else. and that's when the idea came to you.
immediately, you shut off the water, grabbing a towel and wrapping your hair in it, grabbing another one to wrap around your body, rushing back into your room and grabbing a different pair of clothes than you had previously chosen. you trade out the old sweatpants for a pair of sleep shorts, large sweatshirt for an old t-shirt that you stole from dean months ago, and tossing your plain panties, instead grabbing one of your nicer pairs, a dark red lace number that hugged you perfectly, foregoing a bra.
you tried not to think about how ridiculous this was as you slip on the clothes, taking your now semi-damp hair out of the towel and running your hands through it gently, getting out the leftover tangles. you splash water on your face, drying it off with a towel as you look in the mirror, chewing on your lip as you decide whether to put a bit of makeup on or not. you decide yes, just throwing on the slightest bit of mascara and eyeliner, adding just a bit of blush, and swiping over your lips with your cherry lip balm, pursing your lips to properly coat them.
you lean back and study yourself in the mirror, cringing at the bright red scratch marks on your neck before taking a deep breath as you consider what you're about to do. fuck it, you think, go big or go home, right?
with those words of wisdom to yourself and one last deep breath, you turn and walk of out the bathroom, and then out of the door to your room, heading into the hallway, your bare feet pad on the concrete floor as you make the short walk just a few doors down to dean's room. you stop in front of his door, taking a shaky breath before raising your hand, hesitating for a moment before knocking softly.
you hear shuffling, as if he's getting out of bed, and then the door opens and he's suddenly in front of you, arms crossed over his chest as he leans against the doorway.
your breath hitches at the sight of him, your stomach flipping as you look up at him. his hair is spiked and damp, reflecting the shower he probably just took, his stubble highlighting his jaw. his plaid pajama pants are slung low on his hips, just enough to show a sliver of skin between the waistband and the hem of his black t-shirt that hugs his shoulders tightly, stretching over his chest.
dean says your name in a low voice, tilting his head as he looks down at you. you snap out of your trance, flushing slightly as you realize you were caught staring. "what're you doing here?" he asks, and doubt pools in your chest.
"i...i have a proposal," you say, nervously biting your lip as you look up at him.
dean's eyes track the movement, his jaw clenching as he flicks his gaze back up to your eyes, brows raising in question. "a proposal?"
you nod, shifting anxiously on your feet. you take a breath, forcing yourself to calm down as you smile nervously up at him. "can i come in?"
he doesn't say anything, just continues to stare at you, pushing off the doorway and stepping back, allowing you to walk by him. you step into the threshold of his room, forcing yourself to push away the nerves as you stand in front of the bed. your eyes follow him as he closes the door behind you, walking over to stand in front of you, arms still crossed over his chest as he looks down at you.
"so, what's this proposal of yours?" dean asks, the rough timbre of his voice sending a shiver up your spine. you snap out of it, meeting his gaze head on as you speak.
"okay, i was thinking about the mark, and the blood lust." you can see his jaw clench at the mention of the mark and your stomach flips, but you continue. "so i thought, what if...what if there was another way to channel that?"
something flickers in his eyes at your words, and he raises his eyebrows in curiosity. "what d'you mean?"
you swallow nervously, biting your lip as you consider what you're about to say. "before i say it, i just want you to know that if this makes you uncomfortable then i can just go and we'll pretend that this never happened and-"
dean cuts you off with a grunt of your name, tilting his head as he narrows his eyes at you. "just spit it out-"
"i want you to fuck me." the words come out of your mouth before you can stop them, both yours and dean's eyes widening at the bluntness of them.
"you want me to-"
"fuck me," you restate, deciding to just go with your forwardness. "i was thinking about what the mark makes you feel, and how it makes you turn that into blood lust, but then i thought about what if you could channel it into something else. give you some other way to let go."
dean doesn't say anything, just stands there, nostrils flaring and jaw clenched so tight your worried he's going to break something as he stares at you, eyes raking over your features as if something in them is going to tell him that you're joking.
you look away as you flush under his stare, regret and embarrassment seeping into your chest. when he still doesn't say anything, you shake your head, biting your lip as you turn to head back towards his door. "i knew this was stupid, i'm sorry-"
dean doesn't even give you the chance to finish your apology as he grabs your arm and spins you back into his chest, pulling a gasp from your lips.
"stop doing that," he growls, and when you look up into his eyes, they're so dark it makes your breath hitch. his hand that's not gripping your arm comes up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip, tugging it lightly. "drivin' me fucking crazy."
you're too dazed by his sudden proximity to respond, the woody, leather filled scent that's so purely dean invading your senses and making you dizzy.
"let me get this straight," dean says, his voice low and slightly strained as he thumbs at your bottom lip, his eyes glued to the action. "you want me to fuck you, to get rid of the blood lust?"
you nod, lips parting automatically as he tugs at your bottom one, eyes wide as you stare up at him. "yea-yeah. it would still be letting that energy out, just in a different way," you tell him, your voice slightly breathless.
"and you want that?" he asks, eyes lingering on the way your lips brush his thumb as you speak before slipping back up to meet yours. "you want me to let go with you, sweetheart?"
you nod again, swallowing thickly as your mouth goes dry at the nickname. even though you'd heard it from his lips a thousand times before, this time it felt different, heavier, and you felt it weigh on your heart. "of course, if it'll help you-"
"no," dean cuts you off, growling your name and gripping your jaw tighter. "i'm asking you if you want this. not if you want to help me, i'm asking if you want me to fuck you, because if i won't touch you if you don't want this."
"i want this," you answer without hesitation, your voice breathy and your eyes wide, pupils blown with lust as you look up at him. "i wouldn't do this if i didn't want it."
dean groans, eyes clenching shut as if it's physically paining him to hold back, and his hand on your arm slides around your waist, tugging you flush against his chest. when he opens his eyes again, the sapphire green that wormed it's way into your heart is almost entirely swallowed by lust-blown black, the sight making your heart stutter.
"if we do this," he starts, his voice dangerously low. his hand caresses your waist before moving to your hip, gripping the flesh tightly through your clothes. "i'm not so sure 'm gonna be able to control myself. i don't wanna hurt you."
you shake your head, eyes determined as you hold his gaze, your hands coming up to his chest, fisting in his shirt and pulling him impossibly closer. "you're not gonna hurt me, dean," you whisper, pushing up on your tip-toes so that your lips are a breath away from his. "i want this, i want you to let go with me. i want you to use me."
dean just stares at you for a moment, his hand on your jaw moving to cup your cheek as his eyes bore into yours, jaw clenched and nostrils flared. as soon as his eyes flick back up to yours, something snaps in him and he surges forward, crashing his lips to yours.
you moan at the intensity of the kiss, your hands moving from his shirt to wind up into his hair, fingers tangling tightly in the still damp strands. his hands are suddenly everywhere, moving from your cheek to grip your hair, the hand on your hip slipping under your shirt to caress your bare skin, groaning against your lips when he finds that you're not wearing a bra.
your lips part instantly as you feel his tongue run along your bottom lip, moaning into his mouth as he tilts his head, running his tongue over your teeth before sucking your bottom lip into his mouth. your head is spinning as your teeth clash, your hands in his hair holding him tightly to you, arching your body into his.
when you both finally remember you need air, you pull back with a pop, a string of saliva connecting your now swollen lips. dean rests his forehead against yours, his hands finding a place at your hips, gripping them tightly as he catches his breath.
"last chance to back out," he breathes, looking at you with hooded eyes that make your knees weak.
"not a chance, winchester," you whisper back, your voice equally strained as you pant softly, trying to force air into your lungs.
dean groans at your words, and without hesitation, he slams his lips back to yours, one hand fisting in your hair as the other creeps up your back, pulling your shirt up with it until he has to pull away to tug it off you, throwing it somewhere. his pupils grow impossibly larger as he takes in your bare chest, your nipples pebbling as they're exposed to the cool air. his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he's on you, surging forward and capturing one of the hardened buds in his mouth.
you yelp softly at the sudden action, the sound melting into a moan as you arch into him, hands grasping at his hair to hold him to you.
"fuck, dean─" you gasp, head falling back as his tongue swirls around your sensitive skin, his hand coming up to cup your breast that his mouth isn't currently ravishing. after he's satisfied with the job he's done, he switches, bringing his mouth to your other breast, his hand moving to cup and grope the one his mouth had just been working at, pinching your nipple between his thumb and forefinger.
when you whimper his name as he bites at your bud, he pulls himself away from your chest with a pop, lips slick and eyes blown as he looks down at you. you stare up at him, eyes wide and lips parted as you pant, just taking in the sight of him, so worked up over you.
"fuck," he groans, jaw clenching as his eyes greedily rake over your flushed features, his spit-slick bottom lip caught between his teeth. your hooded eyes follow the movement, your faces close enough that you can feel his breath on your heated skin, which sends a shiver up your spine.
you've seen dean shirtless many times─patching him up, or when motel rooms got too hot, but this was different. now, his toned chest was heaving with heavy breaths, his tan skin flushed with desire just for you.
you're staring, lips parted as you pant heavily, your eyes greedily raking over every inch of skin he's offering to you. your hands twitch to reach out, to feel every ridge, dip and curve of his body, and you're too far gone to deny yourself.
you rush forward, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and attaching your mouth to his neck. your lips trail up his neck, sucking at a spot under his jaw that has him groaning your name in a way that makes your knees weak. you're sure you would've collapsed by now if dean's arms weren't wrapped so tightly around your waist you could feel his biceps flex against your skin as your mouth ravished his neck and up to his jaw.
you're craning your neck to reach his skin, and you're body feels so hot you're worried that it's going to burst into flames if you don't do something about it. the chorus of more, more, more chants in your head, fueling your trembling legs as the walk forward, walking dean backwards until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the bed.
he falls to sit on the bed with a grunt, his grip never loosening around you as you follow him, crawling into his lap eagerly, moaning into his neck when his bare chest presses against yours. you arch against him as you bite and suck on his neck, lips trailing down to nip at his collarbone, leaving a path of spit behind you.
"shit─need t'feel you, baby," dean rasps, his hands moving to grip your hips tightly, grinding you down onto him. you whimper in agreement, reluctantly pulling away from his salty skin, licking your lips to savor the taste of him.
you sit yourself up on your knees in his lap, cupping his face in your hands as you tilt his head back to look up at you, your thumb tugging at his bottom lip just as he did to you before. just the sight of him sends a wave of aching desire between your legs, your panties growing wetter by the second.
dean looks absolutely wrecked. his plush lips are parted and spit-slick, swollen from your bruising kisses, the white of his teeth peeking through the brightened pink as he pants heavily. his hooded eyes are so dark, the mossy green almost completely gone as he stares up at you with such reverence it makes your pounding heart stutter in your chest.
his rough hand squeezing your hips brings your attention back to the moment as he turns his head into your touch, lips ghosting your palm, his eyes staying locked on yours.
"c'mon, sweetheart," dean groans, his voice almost breathless as he squeezes your hip again, the action almost pleading. "can't take this anymore, just need you, need t'feel that pretty pussy 'round me."
his words make you moan softly, but they snap you into action. you scramble off his lap, stepping back from the cage of his legs as you hook your fingers in the waistband of your sleep shorts, bending over towards him as you tug them down, shimmying them over your hips and thighs until they fall to the floor.
dean's eyes hungrily watch your every movement, jaw clenching tightly and a low groan escaping his lips as the delicate red lace of your panties is exposed to him.
"son of a bitch," he mutters, his voice a breathless whisper so quiet you almost miss it.
feeling spurred on by his words, you step out of your shorts, leaving them on the floor as you stand between his legs again and start to sink down, your mouth watering at the thought of tasting him. but his arm shoots out to grab yours, stopping you from dropping to your knees with a grip so tight you think it might leave bruises. your pussy clenches at the thought, the idea of looking in the mirror and seeing the mark of him on your skin, as a reminder of this chance you may never have again, nearly making your eyes roll back.
"no, no," dean practically snarls, straightening you up as his hands go to the waistband of your panties, ripping them from your body with a ferocity that makes you gasp. "next time baby, i promise, i'll let you use your fuckin' gorgeous mouth on me, but right now i need to fuck that pretty pussy until you can't even think anything but my name."
a breath leaves your lungs in a shaky gasp, the filthiness of his words making your head spin.
"okay─" is all you can manage, your voice shaking as he tugs you back into his lap, groaning when he feels your bare, hot core against his still clothed and straining cock. he doesn't hold the position long though, because in a blink of an eye, he has you flat on your back, breasts heaving as you stare up at him, your eyes wide and needy.
you part your lips to comment something about how he still has pants on, but the words catch in your throat as a moan when his fingers suddenly swipe through your weeping heat. you arch your back against the mattress, trying to push yourself up against his fingers as they circle your throbbing clit, sending sparks of pleasure behind your eyes.
"that's it, that's my girl─ fuck, you're so fuckin' pretty," dean praises, leaning over you to suck one of your peaked nipples into heated mouth.
his words make you whimper, and your hips buck up desperately into his hand, chasing the burning pleasure he's making you feel. "shit, dean, please, please─"
your whines are cut off into a moan when he plunges the same fingers that had been working your aching bud into your sopping cunt, your walls instantly tightening around his digits.
"i know, pretty girl, i know," he croons, his raspy voice muffled against the heated skin of your chest. his plush lips trailing up to your neck, his stubble scratching at your sensitive skin as he noses under your ear, teeth tugging gently at your earlobe. "jus' give me one before i fuck you, yeah? wanna feel you come around my fingers before i fuck you stupid on my cock."
you whimper in response, tossing your head back against the mattress with a moan as he drives his fingers into your heat again and again, curling them just right to hit that gummy spot deep within you that makes your toes curl.
"oh god, oh god─" you babble, eyes squeezing shut as you feel the band in your stomach tightening, pulling you closer and closer to the edge. "dean, close, m'so close─"
your words only encourage him, his teeth tugging at your ear once more before he trails them up to your jaw, resting his forehead against your cheek. he presses his lips to the burning skin there as his thumb moves to circle your clit, making you cry out under him, your hands flaying to his shoulders, nails digging into the taut skin as you buck against his hand.
"yeah? y'gonna cum, baby? gonna soak my fingers like the good girl you are?" dean coos, lips moving against your cheek, letting his teeth graze your skin. "c'mon, pretty girl, cum on my fingers so this perfect fucking pussy can take me like she needs to."
you fly over the edge with a cry of his name, eyes rolling back and spine arching as your orgasm crashes over you, stealing the air from your lungs. your legs tremble around him, and you can feel his smug smirk against your cheek, your mind too fuzzy to comprehend the words he mumbles against your skin.
his fingers don't stop, working your soaked pussy until your whining, squirming away from his touch as your eyes flutter open, mouth slack as you gasp for breath. your eyes flick up to dean as he moves his face to hover over yours, and his hand has moved but he's not saying anything, and he's just staring at you, and the reverence in his eyes makes you want to shrink, but there's nowhere for you to go.
"dean," you whisper, your voice still shaking and barely audible as your eyes search his, trying to read his expression. he still doesn't say anything, just watching you with his devastatingly beautiful eyes and making you feel like he's worshipping you with his gaze. "what's wrong? do-do you want to stop─"
"do you know," dean mumbles your name, cutting you off effectively. "how fucking beautiful you are?"
the unexpected compliment makes your breath hitch, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you're sure he can hear it. all you can do is stare up at him, and he's so close you can count every freckle on his impossibly perfect face, the moment so intimate it makes your heart clench in your chest.
"you drive me goddamn crazy," he continues, pushing himself up to stand between your legs that hang off the edge of the bed. his hands drift down to the waistband of his pants, pushing them and his boxers down in one swift movement, his eyes never leaving yours as he kicks them away. "you make me forget everything, y'know that? you make me forget about this damn mark on my arm, you're in my head and then suddenly, all the mark wants is you."
your eyes drift down to between his legs, your mouth watering as you see his cock, hard and heavy in front of you, already red and leaking precum. when you continue to stare, dean leans over you again, grasping your chin in his hand, forcing you to meet his eyes.
"i mean, fuck, just look at you, sweetheart," he breathes, his gaze raking over you, lingering on your heaving breasts before flicking back up to meet your eyes. "look so fucking gorgeous...all fucked out 'n stupid just from my fingers."
you only whimper in response, the sound breathless and soft as your spinning head tries to process his words. "please, dean," you rasp, your pleading eyes searching his, lifting your hips up to try and feel hi until he groans softly, eyes fluttering. "need you, please, fuck me.."
he stares at you for another moment, his jaw ticking and you can feel his cock twitch against your inner thigh. he finally moves again, reaching out and grabbing a pillow, lifting your hips and placing it under you. when he decides you're properly situated, he settles between your spread thighs, grasping one tightly in one hand while the other pumps himself slowly. he leans over you, guiding himself to your weeping entrance as your hands fly to his shoulders, grasping at the hard muscles.
he suddenly stops just before his leaking head brushed your folds, the hand on your thigh tightening as his eyes flick up to yours. "condom?" he asks, his voice strained as he forces himself to hold back.
you shake your head, biting your lip as you watch the way his pupils dilate, the sight making your aching core clench around nothing. "wanna feel you, all of you."
"fuck," he groans, his eyes slipping shut as he pumps himself faster, lining up with your aching pussy again. "baby, you're gonna be the death 'f me."
you just hum in response, your eyes glued to where he rubs his red, swollen tip through your puffy folds. with one more squeeze of your thigh, he pushes in, punching harmonic moans out of both of you. your back arches, eyes rolling back as your tight walls stretch around him, the pleasurable burn making your nails dig into his skin.
dean watches you, eyes wide and blown so dark with desire he looks almost crazed, staying still as he lets you adjust to the feeling of him inside you. "that's it, look at you, takin' me so well," he praises, rolling his hips gently to see your reaction.
"ohh shit," you moan, a gasping whimper catching in your throat when he rolls his hips again. he grasps your hips with both hands as leans over you, his bare chest pressing against yours. he stays like that, keeping still longer than he did before, and it doesn't take long until your squirming under him, whimpering softly as you grasp at his shoulders. "move, dean, please─"
as soon as the plea leaves your swollen lips, his hips snap harshly against yours, making you cry out, your eyes flying open to meet his. your mouth goes slack, lips parted in a silent scream and your brow furrowing as he pistons his hips into you, changing angles slightly until he hits that gummy spot deep in you that makes you cry out his name.
"yeah, yeah, i know, pretty girl, that's it right there, huh?" dean's voice is strained, the words a groan against your lips as he licks into your slack mouth, making you mewl under him, the sound only encouraging him to go faster. "squeezin' me so tight, shit, perfect fucking pussy was made for me, fuck─"
he pounds into you mercilessly, your tight walls tightening around his cock, sucking him in as his tip hits your cervix, making stars flash in your eyes. you swear you can feel him everywhere. his hot breath against your parted lips, calloused hands gripping your thighs and sliding up to your chest to pinch and tweak at your hardened buds, his cock making you so full you swear you can feel him in your throat.
you can feel your release creeping up on you, your hands slipping down to grip his biceps, moaning when the muscles flex under your touch. dean seems to sense that you're getting close, and he moves one hand from your chest, trailing his fingers down your torso until he reaches your clit, rubbing tight circles on the aching bud.
the sudden overwhelming pleasure makes you cry out, eyes rolling back as you claw at his skin, broken mewls and gasps leaving your lips. "dean-!"
"yeah, fuck, beautiful, say my name," he groans, dropping his head to your neck, his hips never faltering their bruising pace. "want you scream it when you cum around my cock."
"oh shit," you gasp, hands flying to his back, nails dragging down his skin as you feel yourself getting dangerously close to the edge. "close, shit, m'close dean─"
"yeah, i know, baby, can feel you squeezing me." his fingers speed up on your throbbing clit, and with just the smallest bit of added pressure, the band in you snaps. hard.
you think you scream, but your brain shuts off as your orgasm crashes through you, the pleasure mind-numbing and paralyzing. dean continues to fuck you through it, his hips faltering as he feels your walls clamp down on him with your release.
"fuck, that's it. good girl, good fucking girl," he grunts your name into your neck, his voice strained as you feel him twitch in you, his thrusts just extending your orgasm and melting into another one. "you don't know how fucking long 've wanted this. your perfect fucking pussy gripping me so tight, fuck─ you were made for me, fucking made for my cock, never gonna let you go after this, ngh, you're mine now, sweetheart. all fucking mine."
he continues to babble as his hips falter, lifting his head from your neck to crash his lips to yours, devouring your mouth with his teeth and tongue.
"gonna cum in your tight fuckin' pussy, gonna fill you up, make you feel me for days." you whimper into his mouth, the two of you more so just panting into each other's mouths rather than kissing.
"please, dean, need it, need you so bad," you moan, feeling that band tighten once more. "wanna feel you, please, please─"
"oh fuck, gonna cum," he gasps your name into your mouth, his grip on your hips tightening, and somewhere in the back of your fucked out brain you register that there are definitely going to be bruises there tomorrow. "fuck, m'gonna cum─"
he thrusts once, twice, burying his face in your neck and then his hips still, pressing his cock as deep into you as he can get as he twitches, groaning loudly as he spills into you, his release hot and heavenly in your tight walls. the feelings sends you over the edge again, a weak, broken cry leaving you as your vision practically goes white with pleasure.
you stay like that, trembling and panting softly under him, your eyes hooded and hazy, your shaking hands slipping from his shoulders and falling to his biceps weakly. for a long moment, dean doesn't move, just breathing heavily into the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your sensitive skin with every breath.
eventually, he shifts his hips, moving to pull out, and the movement makes you whimper from the oversensitivity. instantly, dean pulls back from your neck, his brow furrowed as he looks down at you, his gaze filled with concern.
"shit, did i hurt you?" he asks, and you can hear the panic creeping into his tone. "i'm so sorry sweetheart, i didn't mean to─"
you cut him off with a shake of your head, forcing your eyes to focus as you look up at him, a weak, fucked-out smile forming on your lips. "you didn't hurt me, dean," you assure him, your voice raspy. "i'm fine, just sensitive."
"oh okay," he says, nodding and lets out a breath as if he'd been holding it.
he takes another moment, eyes raking over your face again, and he looks like hes't going to say something, but he bites his lip, pushing down whatever it is. slowly, he lifts himself on his arms, pushing up so he's almost sitting, squeezing your thigh comfortingly as he pulls out. you wince slightly at the movement, shivering when you feel his release dripping from your spent cunt.
he pulls away from you completely, standing up and walking over to the corner of his room and your stomach sinks as you watch him rifle through his stuff. you knew this was coming, the part where he awkwardly mumbled a thank you and you take his rejection without a word, making the walk of shame back to your own room, and you never speak of this again.
you can feel the familiar burn of tears forming behind your eyelids as you push yourself up, placing your feet on the ground. you don't look up at him as you lean over, grabbing your discarded shirt from the floor. you bite your lip anxiously as you stand up from the bed, intending to put your shirt on only to stumble and sway as your weak legs shake under you.
"woah, woah─" dean's arm comes around your waist, catching you before you can fall and you lean against him without really meaning to sighing at the warmth of his chest. "where do you think you're goin'?"
he turns you in his arms so your chest to chest with him, and you keep your eyes glued to his anti-posession tattoo, not quite ready to look him in the eyes and see the rejection. "i'll just get dressed and go back to my room─"
"hey, what? no," he interrupts, confusion lacing his words. his hand moves to cup your chin, tilting your head up until you have no choice but to look into his eyes. his brow is furrowed, and you have the sudden need to reach up and smooth the crease with your fingers. "why would you do that?"
your lips part to speak, but no words come out as the intense emotions in his eyes steal your breath.
dean says your name in a low voice, his gaze roaming over your face as his thumb stroked your cheek gently. "did you think i was gonna kick you out?"
"i...i didn't think you'd want me to stay," you admit in a breathless voice, eyes wide as you stare up at him.
he doesn't say anything for a moment, just gazing down at you as his hand raises to brush some of your hair away from your face, and if hekeeps looking at you like that you think you might catch on fire. "i meant what i said."
the words are so simple, so blunt that you don't know what he's referring to. "what are you talking about?" you ask, slightly breathless as your brow furrows in confusion.
"what i said, earlier, i meant it," dean repeats, the hand that's not cupping your chin raising to your forehead, his thumb stroking at the crease between your brows, the tenderness making your breath hitch. "i've wanted you, wanted this for so long, sweetheart."
his words stop your heart, and you look up at him with wide, shocked eyes. you can feel your pulse pounding in your chest, your shirt in your hand falling to the floor as your lips part in shock. "you have?"
"yeah," he mutters your name, both of his hands moving to cup your face now, and you subconsciously lean into his touch, making him smile softly. "i have. i'm honestly surprised you didn't notice before. even cas said i was bein' obvious."
your head reels from his confession, the words processing in your still slightly hazy mind. "you...what?" you ask, still staring up at him with wide eyes.
"i mean, hell, how could i not want you?" dean chuckles, almost to himself as he gazes down at you. "you're smart, 'nd funny, and you could kick my ass any day of the week. not to mention you're so fucking beautiful it makes me weak."
"you...you really mean that?" you ask, brow furrowing in doubt. "you're not fucking with me?"
he shakes his head, smiling down at you as his thumbs continue to caress your cheeks affectionately. "you, this...it's all ive wanted for a long time."
"i..." you start, unsure of what to say as you search his expression for any hint of him lying. when you find none, a smile matching his spreads across your lips, and you lean into his touch, bringing a hand up to rest over his. "ive wanted this too. for a while, actually."
dean grins at you─a real, wide, boyish grin that lights up his ethereal features, making your heart stutter in your chest. "i guess we're both idiots then."
"i guess we are..." you agree, pushing up on your tip toes to ghost your lips over his. you hover there, just breathing him in, eyes flicking between his before you close the gap, pressing your lips softly to his.
its nothing like the kisses you shared before. in fact, it's really just the gentle press of your lips to his, savoring the way his smile feels against you, and you suddenly don't know how you've lived your whole life without kissing dean winchester like this. you certainly don't think you can live without it now that you've experienced it.
after a few savored moments, you pull away, smile staying on your lips as your eyes flutter open. your hand slides along his arm, and you feel him tense when your fingers brush over the mark.
"i trust you, dean," you whisper, curling your fingers over the raised skin, squeezing his forearm lightly. "i know you would never hurt me, and i need you to know that im not going to leave."
"but-" he starts, but you cut him off by raising your free hand to press a finger to his lips.
"no buts," you counter, shifting your hand to cup his cheek, smiling lovingly at him. "just because you think you're dammed doesn't mean you actually are. because you aren't. no matter what you think of yourself, it will never change the fact that you, dean winchester, are the good man. the best man ive ever known, and ill be damned if i let you think any less than that."
"sweetheart..."
"stop. don't fight me on this─"
"i wasn't gonna fight you─"
"yes you were, i could see it─"
he says your name, low and serious, but there's still a soft smile on his face. "you're too damn good for me."
"what did i just say─"
"just let me say this, will you?" he says, giving you a look that makes you shut your mouth, eyes locked on his. he sighs, just staring at you for a moment before he speaks again, his voice softer than you've ever heard it. "youre too good for me, i know that. you're too smart, too kind, just too damn good. but damnit, i want to be selfish so bad and keep you for myself."
you just smile at him, eyes slipping shut as you lean up again to kiss him a little deeper than the one before, but still soft nonetheless. "you have me, dean," you whisper against his lips, your eyes still closed. "you've always had me."
"i don't want to hurt you," he mumbles, and you can feel his furrowed brow as he leans his forehead against yours.
"you won't hurt me."
"you don't know that─"
"yes, i do." your tone is sharp, and it makes his eyes snap open to meet yours again. at this proximity, you can see the specks of gold that flicker in the deep emerald that makes your heart skip a beat. "we'll figure this out, dean. we'll get through this and get that damn mark off you. we'll figure this out, together."
dean smiles at that, a soft, relieved curve of his lips that makes the corners of his eyes crease. he looks at you with so much emotion and affection that you want to just crumble into him and never let him go, hide him away from the world so that it can't hurt him more than it has. "together," he repeats, his voice a hushed whisper.
you can tell that he believes you, and the thought makes pride swell in your chest. you may not know much about your fucked up lives at the moment, but the one thing you know for sure is that you were never going to let dean go through it alone. ever.
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a/n, this ended up being way longer than i intended, but oh well. anyways, i can't get moc!dean out of my head, so here we are... and happy late new years!
ps, the end was written at 3 in the morning (again) so i sincerely apologize if the ending is rushed
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mariswxt · 3 months ago
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libidinal
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If Dean could curse every witch on this planet for dosing you and him with an aphrodisiac after ganking them, he would. His entire body was on fire— burning, and his mind was embarrassingly stuck on you. You, your thighs, lips, your ass. It all rattled about in his head like a broken record, and he craved you, craved the relief like crazy.
He knew that you were feeling the same things he was right now, the ache, burn, relentless want that you just couldn’t shake no matter how hard you tried. Ugh, you needed him. Like you’d die if you didn’t have him. Dean felt the same damn way — trust him — like one touch and he’d break the damn best friend code of conduct.
You’d think both of you would have more control of yourselves, considering how you were both hunters who’d faced stuff like vampires and shit. "This is gettin’ on my nerves, sweetheart," he scoffed, eyes fluttering up and down you. You were too hot for this world— and that wasn’t just the pollen talking, but his drugged up mind couldn’t stop.
"Fuck this." he slowly took off his sweat-soaked shirt, looking for signs that you’d jump him. Dean rubbed the sweat off his chest, having no damn right to look that jacked and edible right now, ugh. He can't take all of this crap, including being quarantined in this damn motel room by Sam. It’s for a reason, though.
He groaned, aching, desperate, gesturing for you to keep away so he could resist this damned pollen’s effects. "Oh, m’ gonna kill Sammy if he doesn’t find a cure for this stat." Dean covered his ears, yeah, no. He acted as if covering his ears and blocking out all noise would stop the ache for you, well, it sure didn’t.
Pacing back and forth, he took one look at you— nope, look away, you looked too hot, nope. "Yeah, I’ll kill him." He winced when he got a very R-rated image in his head— he was desperate for you, you, for some relief, mainly sex.
He felt like every second without his hands on your ass was torture— he hoped he wouldn’t go to hell.
“Oh, I’m fine.” You breathed, sarcastic, giving him a look with raised eyebrows. “Just — you know — feeling like my body’s burning alive, I’m sweatin’, my brain hurts.” Your eyes were hungrily searching his bare chest, biting your lip— no, stop, even if you felt on fire and were sweating buckets.
“You’re clearly not,” he retorted. He would’ve found it funny that you were checking him out, but the need was so overwhelming, and he had to bite his lip to stop himself from throwing you onto the nearest surface.
“So… no need to be sarcastic. M’ just trying to control myself.” He muttered under his breath, crossing his arms and keeping the distance between you. “Can’t say the same for you though, sweetheart, ‘cause I can see ya gawkin’.”
“Yeah, just quit it, you look like a five star buffet. A girl can’t help herself when she’s drugged up on an aphrodisiac.” You groaned, dabbing your sweaty-ass neck with a towel, not able to help the way your eyes hungrily drank in his chest. “I’m makin’ do with the view I’ve got while my pussy’s yellin’ at me right now.”
“Christ, darlin’.” He muttered. He felt all fuzzy inside when you said that, he hated how hungry the damn pollen made him for you, for your body. Dean’s eyes darkened, taking in the way you kept looking at him, how you were yearning for him like he was with you. His fingers gripped on the chair he was sitting on, and he leaned forward— he needed to stay on the damn chair.
“And what kinda things is it tellin’ you, hm?” He asked, voice lowering, growling almost. His cock was telling him to go over there, moan in your ear as he thrusted into you, that’s what— but he had to deny himself of such luxurious pleasures. How great.
“To throw away all sense of modern feminism and let you fuck me hard on the floor.” You breathed, moaning softly at getting the words out. “Or letting you bend me over the table. Eat me out on the bed, take me from behind on said bed.” Another desperate moan.
Shit.
Dean almost groaned out loud, damn you. You were going to be the death of him. He was so damn hard right now, and he gripped even tighter on the chair, he would break it if he wasn’t careful.
“Sweet girl, I know you’re not talkin' about feminism when you got your hungry eyes all over me right damn now.” He bit out, clenching his jaw. Dean couldn’t help the fantasies that were running through his mind, especially when you let those moans out.
“I know.” You murmured, nodding, levelling the playing field and taking your shirt off too, leaning back against the bed’s headboard. Shit. Your skin that glistened with sweat, glowing more in the shitty motel light, tits now on display for his hungry-ass eyes. Your head tipped back, eyebrows pinched together tight, lips parted ever so slightly. Shit.
“Goddamn it,” he muttered, eyes drinking in that perfect body of yours like a man who hadn’t had a drop of water in years. He’d seen you in a bikini before and almost lost it, but this view, this view was a sight for sore eyes. One that he was now staring at shamelessly.
His mouth hung agape as his eyes traveled from your chest to your face, he was desperate — all for you. “What’re you gettin’ at?” He asked, voice low and ragged.
“That I’m hot too. A woman can exist with her shirt off.” You scoffed, thighs rubbing together for any friction. C’mon, fuck, you got nothing— guess Dean’s cock was the answer, but not fucking your friend was the first cardinal rule of maintaining a best-friendship. “Oh, I’m gonna kill those witches even if they’re in the afterlife. I—” You let out a small whimper of frustration, the ache building. “God damn.”
“Damn right you’re hot, sweetheart.” he muttered, eyes locked to your thighs, practically drooling— maybe he wasn’t talking about the heat both of you were burning under. Dean’s tongue darted out and wet his dry lips, watching you as you rubbed your thighs against one another for friction. Damn it, it should be him being that friction, if that even made sense— he didn’t know, his brain was sludge. “I know, baby girl, m’ feelin’ what you are, I get it.”
He wanted to reach out and touch you so bad, but he had to get a grip. Sam could come back with a cure— maybe. Could he wait that long? Probably not.
You, however, simply did not have the patience nor the fucks to deal with Sam and his annoying lateness— you needed your best friend, he needed you, you had two holes he could put his dick into — you weren’t doing ass stuff on the first fuck — so it’s a win-win. “Dean, fuck this cure.” You whined, breath hitching as you yanked your sweats down, panties going with, pussy leaking and aching and so very empty. “Can’t wait, I can’t— c’mere. Fuck me, c’mere.”
Ok— yeah— yes, ma’am.
The sight had his eyes getting dark, nearly feral as he quickly stood up from his chair. The chair fell backwards and made a loud thud against the floor, but he couldn’t care less— not when you looked so damn delectable on the bed in front of him. Dean took quick steps towards you, practically ripping off the rest of his shirt.
He kneeled on the bed in front of you, practically pinning you to the bed. He couldn’t help himself. “M’ here, I’m here. Tell me what you want.” He huffed out, hips already bucking against the bed, moaning at the friction as he kissed over your bare tits and up your neck, licking up your neck, sweat on his tongue— yes, it’s disgusting, but he’d ponder on that in retrospect, right now he felt like an animal.
You guided his hand between your legs then kissed him, hotly, hungry, your lips devouring his, hand on the back of his head keeping him there. It was like a dam had broken, your breath harsh and heavy against his lips.
He grunted into the kiss, eyes slipping shut against the onslaught of your lips against his. His hand easily found its way down to you, the second you pushed him where you wanted him. God, his hand ached to be between your thighs.
“M’ here,” he breathed in between hot kisses. “M’ here, sweetheart, I gotcha.” The words were muffled, breathless, as he pushed your thighs apart, finding your wetness, his eyes nearly rolling back into his head. God, he was starved for you, as you were for him, it felt frantic, hazy, like relief that he was finally touching your skin that would go away instantly, as it wasn’t enough. Your scent had his eyes actually rolling back for a second, a pant and a whine leaving his mouth in quick succession as his free hand pushed sweaty hair out of your face, his own spiky from your hand running through it.
He ground his cock against the bed, feeling himself leaking — as were you — and these touches alone honestly had him feeling like he could embarrass himself right here, and come in his pants like a teenager before even getting the chance to fuck you properly.
You nodded against his lips, practically gone and inattentive to anything but him, leaning more of your body weight back against the headboard and pulling — yanking — him with you, panting, desperate. “Need you, baby, please.”
Oh, he needed you too, baby girl.
“Need you too, gorgeous.” he panted, letting you push him around between your legs and wiping sweat off his forehead briefly, wiping that hand on the sheets— shit, that left a pretty dark mark. He bit down on your bottom lip, groaning into the kiss. God, you looked so pretty, so needy and desperate, and you were all for him. He needed to mark you in some way, make you his in every possible way. He needed to.
“You need me inside this pretty pussy, baby?” He asked, his hand already gliding over your slickness, his eyes locked on yours. His fingers pushed inside you, a moan leaving both your mouths as he felt the lack of resistance on your cunt’s part, and how it sucked his fingers in — fuck, you were tight — and he worked your bra off so he could suck and flick his tongue against your nipples one at a time, moaning against the softness of your tits— mmh, that felt so good.
You nodded frantically, cause fuck yeah, moaning, lips still pressed to his as the pressure had you whimpering in relief. “Yes— yes, baby, d-don’t you stop, ok? God, feels so good.”
“I won’t, wasn’t plannin’ on it, baby doll.” he grumbled against your lips. He didn’t plan on stopping anytime soon, not when you felt this good around his fingers, when you sounded so damn pretty.
“Christ, I need you.” His words were nearly a whisper as he pushed down his jeans and boxers. He was so hard, so desperate for you, that he couldn’t hold back anymore. “You ready, baby?” Well, he certainly was, let’s put it that way. He’d been grinding on the bed the whole time he was on top of you.
“So ready.” You nodded, kissing him desperately, hotly again, panting, whimpering, the works. God, you felt like you were on fire, like it wouldn’t stop until you had him— it felt almost primal. Why wouldn’t you be ready, though? You weren’t a woman if you didn’t get soaked for Dean Winchester.
“M’ gonna take care of you, baby girl, I will.” He muttered against your lips, taking deep breaths. The words came out in a near growl and a grunt, he was hungry for you, starved, so he’d let you kiss him breathless, and he’d kiss you back just as fiercely as you.
He needed to give you the relief you needed, the pleasure, the release. He still rubbed at your pussy, all while he continued kissing you, his tongue swiping across your bottom lip.
You moaned against his lips, nails raking down his back, leg hooking over his hip— fuck the cure, fuck Sammy (though the poor guy deserves more credit), you just needed this right now, you felt like you could explode. Spontaneously combust. Lit match to gasoline. “God, don’t wait.”
“I won’t wait. Not anymore.” He grunted as he felt your nails dig into his skin, and your legs wrapped around him. He was so desperate to be inside you, and the sight of you just beneath him, the sounds coming out of your mouth, they just made him throb.
“I got you, I’m gonna take care of you baby doll, m’ gonna take care of you real good.” He panted against your neck, biting down on the skin as he slid into you, his mouth dropping open at the pure relief.
Your head fell back, a long, drawn moan leaving your mouth— you swore it felt like a cooling balm had been slapped on your bodies, or ice cold water. It just felt like a splash of pure relief, and you couldn’t stop chasing it, it felt like euphoria. “Shitfuck.”
“Oh, god,” he groaned, groaned, eyes squeezed shut. He hadn’t felt relief like this in so long, and your moans were like a damn symphony to his ears. He nearly felt like he was in heaven, that you were an angel.
“You’re so perfect — perfect.” He panted against your skin, placing kisses against your neck, your collarbone, your shoulder, as he found a pace. “Feels so good, darlin’, good girl.” It took all the effort in the world for him to not just lose himself and start pounding into you, just to say.
Good girl? You could’ve come right there. Squirted, even.
But no. Your leg hitched higher on his hip, clutching at his shoulder and at the headboard, your forehead pinched, eyes closed as you just felt it, couldn’t stop feeling, desperately letting shameless moans slip past your lips— as if you could control those.
“Yeah, that’s it — give it to me, baby.” he panted, his eyes taking in the sight of you, how you were falling apart. “Take it, take it all, just let me do all the work, yeah, good girl.” One of his hands trailed down your body, to the back of your thigh, holding it up, using it as leverage to push into you.
He wouldn’t last long, he couldn’t. Not with the sounds coming out of your mouth, the way you looked. “You’re so damn pretty when you give it up, baby.”
“Dean,” You couldn’t help but moan, over and over, paired with the occasional shameless “yes”, eventually bringing him in for a hungry, sloppy kiss, feeling the pendant on his necklace cool against your skin.
“Ah—” he groaned against your lips, his kisses almost violent, more teeth than tongue than anything else. God, his name on your pretty lips was sinful, but he wanted to hear it again and again.
His hands continued to touch you everywhere they could, not missing a curve or angle, and just taking in the pure ecstasy of it all. “You look so perfect like this — all for me.” he panted against you, the coolness of the amulet was almost refreshing against his over-heated skin, he’ll had to admit, and seeing it between your tits? God, another bonus.
Ooh, an idea. You used your leg hooked around his waist, plus some hunter training, rolling you both over, immediately gripping the shitty-ass fabric and plush of the pillow so you could begin to move up and down, hitting that angle without missing a beat. “Sh—Shit.”
Oh, oh wow, he had to take a few deep breaths. He didn’t expect you to suddenly roll the two of you over but he certainly wasn’t complaining. You looked so damn perfect on top of him, like a goddamn dream. He gripped onto your hips, helping you move, a moan leaving his lips as you kept up the pace.
“That’s it baby doll, good girl—“ he couldn’t help but babble. “Can’t keep my hands off you.” He panted, staring up at you. “Doing all the work, look at you— I ain’t gonna last, sweetheart, please tell me you’re almost there.”
“M’ almost there.” The sentence came out as a moan, seeing him in his glory, amulet on his chest, all ridges of muscle and soft skin, your other hand gripping the headboard as you moved, assisted by his hands on your hips, calloused pads of his fingers pressing into your skin. “P—Please, baby, a—almost there, so, so close—”
“Just— just come with me, please— please—” He panted, his hands gripping your hips so tight, he knew that he’d leave marks, but he’d deal with it later. Right at that moment, he was just lost in the feeling.
“Come on, give it to me, baby, I wanna see it, wanna feel it.” He was desperate, but a gentleman, he wanted you to reach it first. You were absolutely too gorgeous for words, and he was nearly going feral— his mouth went dry. “Good girl, good girl, good girl, c’mon — oh, c’mon—”
The coil in your stomach snapped as you came, pure, unbridled euphoria and uninhibited ecstasy, your eyes rolling back, hips stuttering and pressing into his hands as your thighs shook, but you kept on to get him there. “O-Oh, baby, c-c’mon, Dean, please— please—”
Sweet mother of god.
Your voice, your movements, your face, it all just pushed him over that final edge, and a loud moan tore out of his throat as he rode it out. “God, baby doll, god—” was all he could manage.
He didn’t even realise his eyes fluttered shut. He was panting heavily, his chest rising and falling, the amulet resting gently between his pectorals. “Oh god, baby girl, c’mere— come here.” He muttered, hands gripping your hips, pulling you down. He just wanted to feel you against him— wait, what? The burn wasn’t going, it just wasn’t.
“Dean.” You whined, letting out a frustrated moan. “S’wasn’t enough, I can still feel it. Still feel it, baby.” You panted, keeping yourself up. Well, of course this thing wasn’t a one-and-done. You already broke all the cardinal rules of friendship without compunction, but now you had to do it again? Wow. Great going.
“I know sweetheart, I know.” He breathed, eyes opening, and looking up at you, the corners of his lips slightly turned up. He could feel it too, it was like something was missing, and he didn’t know what it was.
He pulled you down, and held you against his chest as he caught his breath. One of his hands moved to the side of your face, and he gently guided you into a soft kiss, the other hand moving down and squeezing your ass. “God, I need you so goddamn much.”
“Mhmm. Need you too.” You whined, your kisses becoming more insistent, needier— ok, don’t blame you, it seems to affect women more. “Can you— need you t’ take over, Dean.”
A small smirk appeared on his lips as you began to become more needy. “Don’t mind if I do, sweetheart.” He growled against your lips. He pushed you off of him, and rolled the two of you over, so you were now beneath him again, and his body was above yours.
“You want me to take over, huh?” He questioned, his lips moving to your neck, leaving nips and open-mouthed kisses over the skin. “You want me to take care of you?” His hips started snapping against you, a groan leaving his lips, cause oh, Jesus.
Woah, ok, you could get used to this. Especially with how you moaned, nodding desperately, leaving red marks on his shoulders and arms, his amulet touching the valley of your now bouncing tits with every thrust again, head tipping back as his cock brushed your cervix, hearing his grunts and pants in your ear mixed with your moans.
He couldn’t help the smirk that stayed on his lips as you clawed at his skin. “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? You like it when I take care of you?” He questioned, his mouth against your neck, his hips snapping against you, desperate to hear the pretty sounds leaving your lips.
“Tell me how much you like it, baby girl, go on.” His words were punctuated by a sharp bite to your shoulder, the other hand gripping your hip.
“Love it, Dean, fuck.” You gasped, your eyes rolling back, the knot in your stomach coming faster this time, scratching at his hips, the hot-ass dip in his back— anything you could reach, really, you weren’t picky.
“That’s it baby girl, there you go—“ he panted, his hips thrusting against yours, just pushing you closer and closer, his mouth against your skin still, leaving open-mouthed kisses and harsh bites.
The sounds you were making were just pushing him closer and closer, he was just desperate for you, and he couldn’t control the words that blurted out of his mouth. “God, you look so damn perfect baby, so damn pretty, so much better than I ever dreamed—“ Sure, he just revealed that he’d thought about this, but he still put your legs over his shoulders, leaning forward, splitting you in half and thrusting into you.
The new angle made your mouth fall open in a perfect ‘o’, and the feeling just overwhelmed your brain, made your body go positively wild, and you could swear some drool dribbled from the corner of your mouth. “D-Dean—”
Christ, he’s never seen anything so pretty.
He groaned as he took in the sight of you, your legs over his shoulders. “You like that, huh? You like it when I—“ his words were cut off with a strangled moan, you were just so perfect, he was never going to be able to get enough.
He managed to make a few more noises, some of them resembling your name, before he just dropped his forehead to your shoulder. “Baby— baby, need to come again in you, can I?“
You made a noise that sounded like a moaned yes, and you’d never known that being split in half by a guy would ever feel this good, your hands braced on the underside of your thighs. Well, that was a confirmation.
He groaned as he felt you nod against his shoulder, words being lost on him after that. That was a yes, a good, proper yes. He didn’t even know what he was saying, all that he knew was that he needed to give you it. So he just gave it to you hard, and fast, not letting up an inch. “Good girl, good girl, you’re doing so good, taking it so well, baby doll—” all the while, he panted against your skin.
He groaned against your skin, his mouth pressed to your shoulder. Hearing that, feeling you around him, he was done for, he was gone— “Yeah, baby, oh, you’re so good, so good, feels so damn good, I’m coming baby, I’m gonna—“
He let out a strangled moan, and his arms wrapped around you, holding you tight as he rode it out, burying his face into the crook of your neck, panting, grunting, smoothing your hair back as he spilled into you with a low moan.
You stroked his hair, helping him come down from it, feeling tired out— I mean, at least the pollen’s fucked out, right? Just… you hated witches now. You get Dean’s point— you didn’t before, but now you do.
He let out a weary groan, breathing still laboured and his skin was still flushed. When he came to and registered that you were stroking his hair, he let his head fall onto your chest, his head against your tits. Mm, like a pillow, feels s’nice.
“God, that was intense.” He whispered against your skin. “You okay, sweetheart?” He was spent, absolutely boneless and limp, and just content to lay there and bask in the aftermath of what you’d just done.
“Better than before.” You breathed, nodding, rubbing your cheek. “S’ not as sore as I thought it’d be, if I’m bein’ honest. But now I get why you hate witches.”
He let out a chuckle, which just sounds more like a quiet scoff, and he lifted his head up to look at you, a slight smirk on his lips. “Oh yeah? You get it now, huh?” His head returned to its original position after a few moments, and he nuzzled against you, an arm wrapping around your waist. “Not sore, huh? I didn’t go too hard on ya, did I?”
“No, but, uh…” You grinned cheekily. “Being carried to the bath would be much appreciated.” Oh, the little shit.
Of course.
He lifted his head to look at you, an entertained and amused look on his face. “Oh, you’re gonna be real cute, aren’t you?” He questioned, and then in a quick movement, he picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist and holding you against his chest.
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soldiersgirl · 11 days ago
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— 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐲/𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐩𝐬𝐲𝐜𝐡𝐨 .ᐟ
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summary — the people's princess and the people's prince, that's what you were promised. the reality? he was the best worst thing to happen to you, yet.
cw — supe!fem!reader x soldier boy. payback era. 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (wrap it), spit kink, teasing, corruption kink (kinda), oral (f receiving), dirty talk, name calling (slut, whore, princess, baby, sweetheart, angel), degradation, cursing, edging, riding, drugs, drinking, mentions of manipulation blackmail, mean & soft ben.
word count — 3,844 words
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you were laying there, in the haze of the moment, trying to remember a time before him, before all the chaos and turmoil. life had been calm, somewhat boring, but tolerable before being head-hunted by vought. life in a rural, suburban town had its perks; you knew everyone and everyone trusted you despite your... curse, as you called it; "powers" by everyone else.
they weren't super powers, they weren't a gift. it was a curse set upon you; the responsibility too big to bear for only a little girl when they first showed up. the mind reading and mind control. touching your mum's hand in comfort and seeing her whole life flash before your eyes; her thoughts, her wants, her sins. the same with your father.
you hadn't, willingly, let anyone touch you for 20 years, not up until you were thrusted into the spotlight and ben's experienced hands.
he had crushed the bennies with the bottom of his hunting knife on the edge of his bedside table before lining up the fine powder over the valley of your bare breasts. he couldn't coerce you into taking them with him like he wanted, so he had to resort to taking them off you instead. you lay with bated breath as he chuckles to himself before snorting the drug, his nose dragging over your full breasts; his hands cupping them softly to make sure you keep still. unlike last time, when you fucking spilled the powder all over and he had to lick it off of you like a dog, lapping at his water-bowl. you can't help but admire his hardened features as he pinches his nose and rests his head on your breast, feeling the full effect of the drugs.
the freckles that dance over his nose, his moss green eyes and the gentle wrinkles surrounding them, his plush rose lips, that both spit venom and whisper honeyed words.
for as long as you can remember, no one touched your bare skin unless it was arranged and paid for, by your parents. while you were still young and impressionable, they talked you into "using your powers for good". people paid you, or rather your parents, to make you control them, "help" them. help addicts drop their addiction, no matter what it may be. help people work harder, better to get that promotion. help politicians get votes, get laws passed. help people fall in and out of love. no matter what it was, it had a price and many were desperate enough to pay it. it was a vicious, endless cycle but you were seen as a selfless saviour to those in need.
which is exactly why vought wanted you, needed you. some recent controversies and mild scandals had landed payback in hot water with the board members and pr team. allegations of drug use, violent bar fights, bribing, sex. you name it and the members of payback had probably done it. and here you came in, to save their name and reputation.
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the crowd cheered as you stumbled onto the stage, the board members sitting front row looking pleased with themselves and payback sneering behind you, their eyes silently warning you; threatening. your hair had been curled and styled to perfection and you had been forced into a, somewhat, modest lilac suit that hugged each curve deliciously; if you asked soldier boy. along with matching gloves to keep you from accidentally reading someone's mind.
it was a fear that you carried with you at all times. with just a brush or graze of your hands against theirs; all their deep, dark secrets spilled and exposed. no matter what or how much you saw, you kept it all tightly locked up and pushed deep down so that it would never spill over the surface. you could barely live with yourself anyway, but it wasn't your place to ruin others lives in return.
"mystara!" the host announced as he slipped his arms around your shoulder and shook you as you forced a smile. "small town girl coming to big town new york! us, at vought, are delighted to announce that she'll be joining your favourite team, paybaaaack!" he pointed back at the vexed members who all plastered on fake smiles, similar to yours. they all waved ceremoniously, arrogantly to the crowd. soldier boy swaggered forward, pushed the host back to replace his arm around your shoulder and grabbed the mic from the host with a smirk.
"we are more than thrilled to have such a beautiful addition to our team. especially as she is my new girlfriend!" he said through gritted teeth. vought had worked hard to ensure that the marketing was in place. pairing you and soldier boy would only increase numbers. the soft-spoken mind-reader with the brutish, rough killer? it was almost too good and too easy. "we can't wait to work with her and make her a valued member of the team. ain't that right, sweetheart?" he turned and your eyes finally met. you could barely manage to keep the eye contact, his eyes demanding your attention as he held the microphone to your quivering lips. all you could hear was crimson countess scoffing behind the pair of you.
"thank you, s-soldier boy. i am so pleased to be here, so excited for this opportunity. i owe this to my parents, stan edgar and most importantly you, b-babe." you stuttered through your PR approved speech. soldier boy planted an unexpected kiss on your cheek before hissing in your ear.
"if you ever use any of your fuckin' tricks on me, i'll destroy your fuckin' pathetic, little life. you got that, sweetheart?" all you could do was stand frozen and just nod. "atta girl." he laughs and gives your ass a small pat.
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"if only they could see you now, baby, hmm?" ben sighs as he pepper kisses across your breasts, his tongue poking out and flicking at your hardened nipple, chuckling as you squirm. "not so sweet and innocent as you would have them all believe." he hums as he sucks at one nipple and pinches the other, whilst whimpers fall past your bitten lips. "who knew you could be such a whore? such a sweet, obedient whore for me..." he groans as he leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses down your heaving chest and tensed stomach.
"you're so mean." you huff in protest, arching your back to feel his lips better against your supple skin.
"shut the fuck up, you love it." he scoffs, swiping his fingers through your folds and admiring the slick that adorns his fingers. "look how fucking wet you are and i've barely even touched you." his eyes sparkle as he brings his fingers to your mouth, inviting you to taste. your defiance isn't appreciated and he roughly grabs your jaw, forcing your mouth open and stuffing his fingers against the pad of your tongue. "fuuuck, sweetheart." his voice filled with adoration as you wildly suck and run your tongue over his fingers.
he knew he destroyed everything he touched, but he just couldn't keep his hands off of you. since he first saw you, he just knew that you were the one for him. underneath your innocent eyes and soft-spoken nature, you were hungry for acceptance; for someone to love you for you and not fear you. a feeling he mirrored and knew all too well.
he pulled back his hand, a string of saliva connecting his digits to your panting mouth. he slightly slaps your clit with his spit-covered fingers, messily running them back and forth over your most sensitive spot, relishing in your pleading.
"ben, ben- please, oh fuck-" you beg, as your hands pull and tug on the cotton sheets beneath you. it only ignites ben's excitement as he roughly spits on your pussy before dragging up pointed tongue up through your folds and settling on your tortured clit. he hungrily devours you as he wraps his toned arms around your thighs and tries, but fails, to keep you still as you feverishly buck your hips against his gifted tongue.
"god, you're so fuckin' needy, aren't you? always fuckin' beggin' and pleading for me." he mumbles against your folds, his tongue still working to pull the first orgasm out of you. "you're just my lil needy princess, aren't you? does my princess want to cum on soldier boy's tongue?" you can only squeeze your eyes shut and nod as your senses are overwhelmed. "look at me." another slap against your pussy. "look. at. me." ben demands. his eyes could burn a whole through yours with the intensity of his gaze as you start to lose control and cum all over his tongue. he loosens his grip on you and let you grind your pussy against his tongue, as he smirks and savours your taste coating his tongue.
ben wastes no time climbing on top of you, smashing his lips onto yours and your tongues intertwining with one another. to your surprise, he pauses to rest his forehead against yours and stroke your cheek.
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it took you weeks to settle into your room and role at payback, no one took you seriously but simultaneously they feared you. dodged you when you got too close, afraid of what you would see, of what you would think of them. ironically, you didn't care enough to want to know their secrets and regrets, you could barely carry those you already had tried to forget.
but what you had forgotten is that your life wasn't yours to control. you were nothing but a puppet to the company that had threatened to "send you away" if you didn't comply.
you would pose as a secretary during vought meetings with a wig and all, shaking hands with international elected officials and relaying the information to vought management for extortion and blackmail purposes. influencing presidents, CEOs, and industry moguls to strategically invest in vought and help pass supe-positive laws to allow more human testing and production of compound v. anything to make vought more money.
however, it didn't stop there. the more power-hungry vought got, the more you were pushed around and forced to go against your morals. over the past several weeks, you had been sneaking into the payback member's individual rooms to gain intel and to make them more... complacent to voughts ideas and suggestions. but when it came to soldier boy, you flat-out refused. no matter how much you screamed and shouted at your managers, your worries were pushed aside.
that's how you found yourself sneaking into his room against your own will and better judgement. he looked so vulnerable when he slept, his brows furrowed only slightly and his hair swept beautifully across his hardened features. you're not sure how long you just stood there and just admired him, wanting nothing more than to just reach out and touch...
what you hadn't known that night, was that soldier boy was wide awake. he wasn't surprised; he knew why you were there and what vought was up to. but what surprised him was that you just left, without using your powers on him like he had expected and defying vought.
he thought about you for days until one evening, he thought it was finally time to confront you, to get some fucking answers. it was just after midnight and all the members had gone to bed after some heavy drinking and drug-taking in the payback conference room; everyone except you. you were never invited and never expected and that suited you just fine. you had witnessed how that shit could destroy lives too many times to count and you heeded the warnings. three loud knocks rapped at your door pulling you out of your thoughts. you sat your book down, instinctively pulled on your gloves, padded over barefoot and opened your door.
"s-soldier boy." you gasped. he looked down at you with a sneer, his brows in a deep frown and his soft, unstyled hair falling just in front of his analysing eyes. he simply grunted as he looked you over; no makeup, messy hair, pink pyjama set and your fuckin' gloves. he silently pushed past you and walked into your bedroom, leaving you frozen and confused at your door. you quickly closed the door and turned to the contrasting, intimidating figure in your girly bedroom. like a western stand-off, you both stood and just watched one another, waiting to see who'd break first.
"why?" he barked at you, making you flinch.
"why what, sir?" you asked carefully.
"don't give me that sir bullshit." he snorted. "do you think i'm fucking stupid, huh? why didn't you touch me that night with your freaky-ass powers? i know you're doing it to all the others, by the way. i've seen how you sneak in and out of their rooms, how they're suddenly acting different and think everythin' vought does is just revolutionary. i see you." with each sentence, he makes his way over to you right until he's towering over you. you feel like a wounded animal at the end of a hunter's gun, silently begging for freedom.
"i- i couldn't. i was afraid of what i'll see. afraid of how you would react if you worked it out. afraid of you." you quietly admit, deciding it's better to be truthful and once you started, it was hard to stop.
"but what if i wanted you to see?" he muttered in response.
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he had pushed and folded your legs tightly against your chest as he mercilessly pounded his thick cock into you, with one hand wrapped tightly around your dainty throat and the other grabbing your thigh to stabilise himself. the only sounds filling the room were your hushed begging and ben whispering the most foul words into your ear as you came undone under him.
"god, please- ben, im so close, please.." you begged endlessly and breathlessly as his grip on your throat tightens.
"always so fuckin' tight, princess. god, you're so cock-hungry, it just keeps suckin' me in. fuck." he groans as his stubble rubs against your ear. his hips snap ruthlessly against yours, your gummy walls contracting and clamping around him. "d'you wanna come, baby? gonna cum all over my cock, like the slut you are?" as your eyes roll into your head, you somehow manage to nod and let out a weak "yes, please...". his teeth nipped and tugged on your ears before travelling down and leaving sloppy kisses all down your neck before biting down on your shoulder. marking your silky skin and watching with glee as the teeth marks decorate your skin as a reminder of who you belong to.
he pealed himself away to gaze softly down at you and your completely fucked-out state. god, he was convinced that he would never grow tired of this sight, which is why he immediately stopped, leaving you high and dry. tears threaten to form and roll down your reddened cheeks as you stare at him, mouth agape and band right about to snap.
"my sweet angel, i'm not done with you yet." he hums as turns you over onto all fours and slowly starts to thrust again as he gathers your hair into a makeshift ponytail, starting the torturous process all over again.
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he had grabbed your wrist and slipped off your glove as you fought and yelled in protest. this is the last thing you wanted. you weren't ready to face the horrors that his psyche hid. but he wanted to give you the full truth so he could pour some out and share the in the guilt you carried, together.
"stop!" you yell out. "no, fuck! don't, plea-" his fingers had intertwined with yours and everything flashed before your eyes like a bomb had gone off behind your eyes.
his abusive father, his distant mother, his trauma-filled boarding school days, injecting the compound v and the pain that followed. all the fake pr stunts; normandy beach, ww2, helping the soldiers. the drugs, the women, the drinking. killing, murders, bodies beaten to a pulp. the desperate need for approval, for acceptance, for something real. like you, his life was no longer his and he feared the worst. the last thing that appeared in front of your eyes was as clear as day: his dirty, unfiltered thoughts of you.
you wrenched your hand from his grip and staggered back, your mind a whirlwind.
"don't ever fucking do that again." your chest heaved with anger. "you don't have the fucking right to do that! no matter who you are!" you snatched back your glove and put it on.
"did you see it all?" he asked calmly. not what you expected.
"i saw everything." you nod.
"... and?"
suddenly, the towering figure in front of you had transformed into the young boy who yearned for love and understanding. he had never wanted to be feared but it was wired into his new dna and he couldn't shake it no matter how much he wanted to. you couldn't help but soften up and almost... pity him.
"and i see you." you repeat his earlier words back to him. he lets out a loud sigh and runs a hand over his rugged face. "i- i had no idea. about everything. i'm sorry." ben scoffs in response.
"i don't need your fucking sympathy. i just needed you to know that..." he hesitated. "i understand and i'm not afraid of you. you shouldn't be afraid of me. i don't want you to be." he edges closer to you, grabbing the tips of your gloves and slowly sliding them off, his eyes never leaving yours. he held your hands in his as if they were porcelain, bringing one up and kissing one of your fingertips to show the depth of his words. "our hands are weapons used against our will. but together, you and me, we can resurrect something beautiful."
"ben." you gasp, all of this unexpected.
"you know i want this. my dirty thoughts of you, they were never mine to keep." he sighed before leaning down, ever so slightly, and brushing his lips against yours. you grab the back of his neck and bring his lips to yours in a heated clash of tongues and teeth. you knew he was going to wreck you, but you wanted nothing more than to give in and seek comfort in your american psycho.
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that's how you ended up here; riding ben like your life depended on it. your tight walls hugging bens cock like your pussy was made for him and his hands fitting perfectly on your hips as he guided you. he swallowed your loud moans as your lips tangled together and your tongues intertwined. his hips bucking up to match your frenzied tempo as you lost yourself in the sensation of being completely filled by him. he threads his finger through your hair and tugs on it, yanking your head back, making you yelp and hiss in pain.
"i love the way you hurt me." you rasp out in between rough thrusts and playful bites across your chest; the harsh purple bruises a contrast to your delicate nature. ben grins against your neck as he reaches around and slaps your ass with a groan.
"god, i have really fucked you up, haven't i? my baby, so fuckin' dirty." he chuckles as he leans back and folds his arms behind his head to watch the show you're putting on for him. "show me how much you fuckin' need me and i might let you come on my cock." you claw at his chest with your lilac nails, that match your supe-suit, as you grind down onto him with full force. the sweat cascading down your back and slick covering ben's thick thighs.
that was a pro and con of being supes; you could fuck for hours, but you could also get fucked for hours without room for a breather. you were sure that ben had fucked you stupid after edging you on for what felt like hours as he rides his bennie-filled high and gets to see how you fall apart under him.
"you know that only good sluts get to come on my cock, don't you?" he laughs as you notice your pace slacking, your body soon couldn't take anymore. he forcefully grabs your jaw; his pupils completely blown leaving only a ring of bright green around them. he taps your lips and you open them with a second thought, something that he programmed into you. he spits into your mouth and watches adoringly as you roll it around in your mouth before swallowing it and resuming your previous frenzied pace. his rough hands grab your hips, squeezing your supple skin as he fucks his cock deeper into you. within seconds, you're finally coming all over him as you curse and pant his name like a prayer.
"fuck- nggh, oh my fucking god, ben.. ben, ben!" you shout as he comes with you; the feeling of being filled with him was like no other. he lazily thrusts into you whilst carefully laying you on your back and adorning your face with soft kisses and whispered "good girl"'s. you share one final, deep kiss; filled with unsaid emotions and promises to one another before he lifts you up and carries you to the bathroom to get you cleaned up.
two misplaced puzzle pieces, finally belonging and forming a picture no one else could see.
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you weren't sure who affected who more. you had been introduced to the world of desire and sin by ben; he was your first everything and he revelled in that fact. knowing no one had heard or seen you the way he does, fuck. it was like a whole new drug and it's potency was almost deadly. you had gotten more calculated, with his encouragement, and were using your powers for your own good and not just at the behest of whoever held your leash. you confronted your parents and had cut off the contact, although the damage was done. you were still the people's soft princess to the adoring crowds, but you had evolved into something more sinister; more selfish. and nothing could get in your way now.
in comparison, ben had gotten calmer. he didn't throw himself into women, drinking and drugs like before, only occasionally dabbling in taking a hit or two of whatever he had lying around. men like him is what love destroys and his harsh outer layer was slowly eroding. his vicious appetite for destruction and violence needed less feeding and attention. his sole purpose was to protect you and ensure that you both would never be denied the happiness he knew you deserved. he considered what was better; to be feared or to be loved. but he had come to the conclusion that "one should wish to be both, but, because it is difficult to unite them in one person, it is much safer to be feared than loved."
thanks to you, he had both.
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a/n: WELL. i hope you like this one too guys; it was so much fun to write and rather self-indulgent. i'm considering ACTUALLY make this fic a series, i love their dynamic. this was based on another favourite song of mine that immediately makes me think of the loml, ben, when i hear it <3 long live fall out boy
-`♡´- tag list: @bluemerakis @legalmente-loca @faiszt @vmiina @emeraldcrs @briiverse @figthoughts @sl33pylilbunny @jasvtsc @silverwoodlynx @kayleighwinchester @bejeweledinterludes @yooyieu @nperoconelcositoarriba @lanasgirlfr @velvetdandeli0n @iluvdeanwinchester @doeinlace (comment or inbox me to be added)
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deansbeer · 1 month ago
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★ fragile as lace, bound in leather // dean winchester.
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
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synopsis. you and dean share one final night together, tangled in desperate love and heartbreak. he believes he's no good for you, but letting go feels like tearing your soul apart.
warning(s). angst | smut | p in v (stay safe out there n wrap ur shit) heartbreak | emotional turmoil | doomed relationship | self-loathing | internalization of guilt | emotional vulnerability | depictions of crying during sex (?) | lingering pain of goodbye.
kari yaps. leather and lace by stevie nicks is to blame for this … but !!! i wanted it to be angsty & i haven't written smut in what feels like forever (it's so ass) so yeah <33
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the motel room feels like a tomb. the heater rattles in the corner, failing to warm the stale air. it's cold, but not in the way that bites at your skin. no, this chill is deeper—buried in your chest, spreading into every hollow part of you that dean once filled.
he sits on the edge of the bed, his boots still on, his head hung low. the soft light of the bedside lamp casts shadows over his face, making him look older, wearier. his shoulders are tense, his hands clasped tightly between his knees. he hasn't said much, but he doesn't need to. you've known this was coming for weeks now, maybe longer.
"so that's it?" your voice is barely above a whisper, but the words feel like they echo in the room.
he doesn't look at you. his jaw clenches, his fingers twitching like he wants to reach for something—maybe you, maybe the door.
"yeah," he says finally, his voice rough, raw, like it's been scraped across gravel.
the words hit you like a punch, even though you've been bracing for them. still, they knock the air from your lungs, leaving you gasping as you stand there by the window, your fingers wrapped around the edge of the curtain so tightly your knuckles ache.
"why?" you press, your voice shaking. even though you already know the answer.
he exhales sharply, dragging a hand down his face. "you know why."
"do i?" you fire back, stepping toward him. "because all i see is you giving up. on me. on us."
that gets him. his head snaps up at that, his green eyes locking onto yours. there's anger there, frustration, but underneath it, you see the pain—the same pain that's been eating away at you for months.
"don't do that, baby," he says finally, his voice low and sharp. "don't act like this is all on me. like this… you and me.. hasn't been falling apart for a long time."
"it doesn't have to," you insist, taking another step toward him. "we can fix it. we can—"
"no, we can't,” he cuts you off, standing abruptly. the sudden movement makes you flinch, but it's not fear—it's heartbreak. "we were doomed from the start."
the words are brutal, but the way his voice cracks betrays him. this isn't what he wants, you know that. but it doesn't make it hurt any less.
"no," you whisper, tears blurring your vision. "don't you dare say that."
he takes a step closer, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides. "you deserve better than this," he uttered, his voice breaking. "better than me. i'm no good for you. all i do is hurt people… drag them down. and you? you're… you're everything good in this world. and i can't ruin that."
his words hit you harder than any goodbye. they cut deep, carving out the parts of you that still believed in this, in him.
"i don't care about what i deserve," you say, trying to hold back the tears threatening to escape. "i care about you. i love you, dean. isn't that enough?"
he closes his eyes like he can't bear to look at you anymore. "it's not," he says quietly, and the finality in his tone shatters something inside you.
you take another final step toward him, your hands trembling as they reach out to him. "please," you whimper, your voice barely audible. "don’t leave me."
for a moment, he doesn't move. and then, suddenly, he's on you—his hands cupping your face, his lips crashing into yours with a desperation that steals the air from your lungs.
it's not a gentle kiss. it's messy, frantic, filled with all the things he can't bring himself to say. his fingers tangle in your hair, pulling you closer as if he can press himself into you, leave a piece of himself behind.
you clutch at his flannel, your tears mixing with the kiss as you pour every ounce of your love, your pain, your longing into it.
"dean," you gasp against his lips, your hands fumbling with his flannel, hastily shrugging it off of his shoulders.
"shh," he whispers, his breath hot against your skin as his lips trail down to your neck. "don't talk. just... let me—"
he doesn't finish the sentence, but you know what he means. let him have this. let him have you, one last time, before everything falls apart.
his hands are everywhere—sliding under your shirt, gripping your hips, pulling you against him like he's afraid you'll disappear. you can feel the heat of his body through the layers of fabric, the way his heart pounds in his chest, and it makes you ache in a way that feels unbearable.
you tug at the hem of his shirt, your fingers shaking as you pull it up his torso. he shrugs it off, his lips right away latching back onto your skin as he backs you toward the bed.
when the back of your knees hit the mattress, he lifts you by the back of your thighs like you weigh nothing, laying you down gently even as his movements remain hurried, frantic. he pulls your shirt over your head, his hands sliding over your bare skin like he's trying to memorize every curve, every inch of you.
"god, you're beautiful, sweetheart," he murmurs, his voice rough as his lips trail down your collarbone, to your chest.
you arch into him, your hands tangling in his hair as you let yourself drown in the sensation of him. his lips, his hands, his weight pressing you into the mattress—it's almost enough to make you forget the agony waiting on the other side of this moment.
he undoes your jeans, his fingers brushing against your skin as he slides them down. you feel exposed, vulnerable, but the way he looks at you—like you're the only thing that matters—makes you forget your insecurities.
"baby," your bottom lip wobbled, as your hands move to the waistband of his jeans.
he helps you, kicking them off along with his boxers before settling between your thighs. his skin is warm against yours, his body solid and grounding in a way that makes you feel like you're floating.
when he finally pushes into you, it's slow, unhurried, like he's savoring every second. you gasp, your hands gripping his shoulders as he fills you completely, the stretch and the heat overwhelming.
"look at me," he whispers, his forehead pressed against yours. "please."
you open your eyes, meeting his gaze. his green eyes are dark, filled with so much emotion it makes your chest ache. love, regret, longing—it's all there, written in the way he looks at you like he's trying to etch this moment into his memory.
he moves slowly at first, his hips rolling against yours in a rhythm that feels almost torturous. every thrust, every brush of his skin against yours feels like a goodbye, and it makes your heart shatter all over again.
"i love you," you voice, as tears spill down your cheeks.
he presses a gentle kiss to your lips, his movements faltering for a moment as he whispers against your mouth, "i love you too. more than you'll ever fucking know."
the words undo you. you cling to him, your nails digging into his back as your sobs shake your body. he doesn't stop—he holds you tighter, moves deeper, like he's trying to put you back together even as he's breaking you apart.
your release builds slowly, the pleasure mixing with the pain until you can't tell where one ends and the other begins. when it finally crashes over you, it's overwhelming, your body trembling as you cry out his name.
he follows soon after, his movements growing erratic before he stills above you, his face buried in your neck as he lets out a low, broken groan.
the room is silent except for the sound of your heavy breathing, your heartbeats pounding in unison. he doesn't move, his weight pressing you into the mattress as his arms wrap around you like he's trying to keep you from slipping away.
"please don’t leave," you whisper in his ear.
he doesn't say anything. he just presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment before he pulls away.
you want to stop him, to beg him to stay, but your body is too heavy, your heart too broken. you watch in silence as he gets dressed, his movements unrushed, like he's trying to draw it out.
when he's done, he looks at you one last time, his eyes filled with so much sadness it makes your chest ache.
"i'm so sorry," he tells you, his voice wavering.
and then he's gone.
you don't know how long you lie there, staring at the empty space where he used to be. the room is cold, the sheets still smelling like him, and the ache in your chest feels too much to bear.
you were the lace, and he was the leather. and no matter how tightly you'd tried to weave yourselves together, you were always destined to come apart.
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queen-of-deans-booty · 1 year ago
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I'll Always Choose You
Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.8k
Warnings: car accident, injured!reader, bitchy girlfriend, angst, fluff at the end
Request by @jessicalynnann: I’m requesting another one lol. Can I get a request where the reader and Jensen are best friends and Jensen is falling in love with her but his gf is really rude to her and makes him choose. Well the reader hears and distances herself… well Jensen realizes it is too late and the best friend is the one that makes him happy but the reader gets into an bad accident. You decided the ending. Thanks.!!! 
Summary: Jensen is back in town with his new girlfriend and is hosting a barbecue to get together with everyone and catch up. This is the first time you're meeting her, and she doesn't take you to as kindly as she leads everyone to believe she is.
Square Filled: in vino veritas (2021) for @spndeanbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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x
Jensen hasn’t even been back for more than a week and he’s already having a barbecue at his cabin in the mountains. He rents the place out every summer and invites everyone he knows to stay with him for the weekend. The place is big enough to house two dozen people and Jensen knows a lot of people. It’s been a few months since Jensen has been home since he’s traveling with his new girlfriend. You haven’t met her yet but you have talked to Jensen about her. He seems to be crazy about her so you’re not going to ruin what they have.
Yes, you have a crush on him. Yes, you love him. Yes, you’d do anything to make him happy. Yes, he is your best friend. No, you won’t do anything about it because he seems to be happy. What kind of friend would you be if you took that away from him?
Once you finish getting ready into a summer flowy dress, you grab the food you cooked and pile into your car. The cabin is located in the mountains up north so it takes you an hour to get there. There are already a bunch of people there but you don’t mind being later than everyone else. You pull into the driveway and see Jared’s car indicating that him and his wife are already here.
You let yourself into the house and enter the kitchen to place your food there when you see a young and beautiful woman. She must be Denise, Jensen’s girlfriend. You recognize her from the photos he’s sent you.
“Oh, hi. Denise?”
She looks you up and down as if she’s judging you.
“Yeah. You must be Y/N.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” you smile.
“You have such a cute dress on. Don’t let the drinks ruin it.”
It’s the way she says this that makes ou suspicious. She seems a bit passive-aggressive like she doesn't like you. Instead of giving you a chance, she’s already decided that she doesn’t like you. You’re not going to let her ruin your night because you came here for one thing and one thing only.
“I can handle myself. Where is Jensen?”
Speaking of, your best friend walks inside the kitchen using the back door with containers of food in his hands. He looks at you and a big smile breaks out on his face.
“Y/N! You came!” He sets down the food and scoops you into his arms. You don’t miss the way Denise is glaring at you two. “I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you, too.”
“Baby, you promised you’d show me around,” Denise says and pulls her boyfriend away from you. “Remember? You said you’d do it when you got done outside.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He turns to you. “I’ll be right back. Jared and Gen are outside.”
“Okay,” you nod.
Denise practically drags him away, leaving you all alone. You shake off this bad feeling you’re getting and join the others outside. Jared is talking to some guys off to the side while Gen is heping prep the table for the food. Joshua, Jensen’s brother, is using the grill to make his famous chicken on the other side of the backyard.
“Y/N!” Jared says a bit too loudly.
“Whoa, are you okay?” you chuckle and hug him.
“Yeah, I’m great.”
Jared has always been a light weight despite how tall he is. He definitely has the weight to keep the effects of alcohol away but he acts like he’s a hundred pounds when he drinks. It only takes a few drinks to really get him going.
“What number of drink is that?”
“Three?”
“You drink any more, you’ll bring out Doug. Do you really want to do that?”
“Probably not,” he chuckles.
You have fond memories of Jared’s alter ego coming out after he’s had too many to drink. The night usually ends in the cops being called but it’s memories you love to think about.
“So, I met Denise.”
Jared starts laughing at the tone of your voice.
“Yeah, everyone has that same reaction when they first meet her.”
“What is her problem?”
“I don’t know. She’s not the best person to be around but no one says anything because it seems like Jensen is happy. They’ve only been dating for a few months but they seem happy together.”
Jensen and Denise come back from the self-tour and you watch as she clings to his side even though he wants to go over to his friends and converse. He has a smile on his face that doesn’t quite reach his ears. He might be happy but it’s not true happiness.
“You don’t know him like I do.”
You leave Jared’s side to join Jensen’s. He has yet to tell you about his trip and now’s the perfect time to do that. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him, you just want to be around him. However, Denise sees you walking over to them and she tugs on Jensen’s arm to grab his attention. She leans in and whispers something in his ear that causes him to chuckle.
“Sure,” he nods.
They both walk off before you can get to them, and Denise looks back at you to gauge your reaction. You pretend like you weren't walking to them and veer to the right where Gen is. She says something to you but you’re not paying attention. You stare at the couple until they disappear around the corner of the house. Jensen didn’t even see you coming toward him.
You push down your feelings and enjoy the company of everyone else until dinner is served. Jensen took the seat next to you before Denise could pull him away so she is forced to take the other side of him. Everyone digs into the delicious food immediately and the conversation somehow gets on the topic of how stupid Jensen has been in his past.
“Once Jared told me I couldn't do it, I had to prove him wrong. I climbed up to the roof  and got ready to jump into the pool.”
“I told him not to do it but he wouldn’t listen,” you chuckle.
“Yeah, so I got a running head start and jumped off into the pool. I made it in but it was shallower than I thought, and I broke my arm on the side of the pool.”
“You were a big cry baby,” you laugh and lean on his arm in laughter. “I held your hand the entire way to the hospital.”
“That you did,” he smiles down at you.
Denise’s jaw ticks in annoyance and jealously. She grabs her alcoholic drink and walks past you as if she is going to get a refil. However, she “trips” and she spills her entire drink all over your new dress. You gasp from how cold it is and stand up in shock.
“Oh, I am so sorry!” Denise apologizes.
“Shit, that’s cold!”
You look down at your dress to see the alcohol already staining your dress. You look at Denise and see the malicious intent in her eyes. She might be faking an apology but you know she couldn’t care less about this. She did this on purpose.
“Here, come with me. Let me clean this up before the stain sets.”
“Do you need me to come with you?” Jensen asks.
“No, I got this,” Denise chuckles.
She takes you into the cabin before you have  achance to say anything. As soon as the door is closed, she becomes a whole other person. She drops the nice girl act and shows her true colors.
“I don’t know what your problem is, but stay away from my boyfriend.”
“My problem? What are you talking about?”
You grab some napkins to dab your dress without her help.
“You can play games all you want but he’s mine, and I’ll make your life miserable if you keep doing what you’re doing.”
“I don’t want him,” you lie.
“Please,” she scoffs and rolls her eyes, “I saw the way you were looking at him the entire night. Stay away from him or I’ll do more than pour alcohol down your dress.” She walks back to the door but pauses because she’s not done talking. “I am better than you in every way. You might be the best friend but I’m his girlfriend, and I always get what I want.” She gives you a sweet smile as if she didn’t just threaten you. “It’s nice to meet you though. Sorry about the dress.”
As soon as she leaves the kitchen, tears roll down your cheeks. You can’t go back out there looking like a mess so you dry your cheeks and your dress as much as possible before going back outside. Everyone is mostly done with dinner so they’re standing around instead of sitting. Jensen immediately walks over to you with a look of concern on his face.
“Hey, are you okay? I can pay for the dry cleaning.”
You look at Denise who is watching you with careful eyes. Jensen might genuinely be happy with her so you can’t take that away from him and tell him how rotten his girlfriend is. Plus, would he even believe you? Yes, you’re his best friend but would he believe you over his girlfriend?
“No, it’s okay. It was a misunderstanding,” you sigh.
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah.”
You excuse yourself and walk over to Jared who has been watching you three the entire night. He had two glasses of water at dinner so he’s sobered up some more. He sees the look of defeat on your face and nudges you arm.
“They won’t last.”
“What?”
“I don’t see them lasting another month.”
“Why would I care?”
“Come on,” Jared chuckles. “We all know you’re in love with him.”
“Shut your mouth, Jared,” you snap.
“What, am I wrong?”
You look at Jensen and Denise who are all over each other. She has her arms wrapped around his neck and his hands are low on her hips. You have to hold back your tears.
“It doesn’t matter how I feel. She clearly doesn’t want me around.”
“Give it time.”
Jensen and Denise walk into the cabin to do God only knows what, and you decide it’s best if you leave now. You don’t want to spend the night and have to hear them through the walls.
“As much fun as this whole thing has been, I should go now.”
You give Jared a side hug so you don’t get the alcohol on him.
“Good luck.”
You can’t leave this party without saying goodbye to Jensen. You’ll steal a couple of minutes and leave and that will be that. You don’t even have to give him a hug goodbye . You walk inside the house in search of your best friend. You walk past the kitchen into the living room where you overhear Denise and Jensen talking.
“What’s wrong? You were fine when we showed up.”
“I don’t like that you spend so much time with her. I’m your girlfriend who loves you.”
“She’s my best friend.” Great, they’re talking about you. How can you go in there now? It’ll only be awkward and you’ll give away that you’ve been listening. “We grew up together.”
“You’re with me now. Y/N needs to find someone she loves and leave us alone. I don’t want to be rude but it’s obvious she wants you.”
You can’t see Jensen’s face from where you’re at but you can only imagine what it looks like.
“You’re overreacting.”
“Do you have feelings for her? Is that why you’re being this way?”
You hold your breath and wait for his answer.
“Be this way? What are you talking about?”
“It’s me or her. Pick one. You can’t have both.”
You can’t bear the thought of hearing his answer because there is a chance that he might choose her. You quickly leave the room without hearing his answer and escape to your car. You shouldn’t have come. He has been with Denise for months across the world. He probably has a lot more fun with her than he does with you. He’s found someone to replace you with. You can’t fault him for choosing her. She can give him everything you can’t.
You peel out of the driveway and start the journey back home. Tears are flowing down your cheeks making it harder to see the road in front of you. It’s a particularly windy day so your car is slightly shaking; nothing you can’t control. It doesn’t help you’re driving in the mountains with no light except for that of your headlights. Through your tears, you don’t see the car on the other side of the roading coming straight at you.
You hit him going seventy miles an hour head on, and you’re thrown from the windshield and onto the groound. You left in such a hurry that you forgot to put your seatbelt on. The car you hit is a much bigger car than yours so it doesn’t have nearly as much damage as yours. The car slams on its break before slowly driving off, leaving you on the ground outside.
You gasp in pain and stare at the starry sky above you. Blood runs down your body and pools on the ground. You never took time to admire how pretty the night sky is. Your entire body is in pain but there is a certain peace that comes with being on the brink of death. You close your eyes to get some sleep when you hear someone calling your name off in the distance.
How much time has passed? It seems like minutes but could have been for much longer.
“Y/N!” Jensen gasps and slides on the ground when he gets to you. You open your eyes and see red and blue lights flashing off his face. “I’m right here. You’re going to be okay. Just hang on for me, okay? Please be okay.”
“Sir, you need to move.”
Jensen is pulled back so the paramedics can come in and do their job. You close your eyes because you’re so fucking tired. You feel yourself being lifted off the ground and onto something softer than the ground. You’re wheeled on a gurney into the ambulance with Jensen following closely behind.
“Sir, only family are allowed inside.”
“I’m her husband,” Jensen shouts and pushes past the paramedics.
They allow him to sit inside and be with you until they get to the hospital. Jensen grabs your bloody hand just as you roll your head to the side. You barely squeeze his hand to let him knwo you’re with him and not going toward the light no matter how tempting it might be.
“I’m right here, sweetheart. I’m holding your hand.”
The next time you open your eyes, you’re confronted with blinding white lights. Is this what Heaven is like? Did you die? You blink a few times to correct your vision and see you’re not in Heaven but a hospital room. You groan softly and look to your right where Jensen is. He is holding your hand with his head lowered like he’s praying. When he hears your painful groan, his head snaps up.
“Sweetheart. Hey, I’m right here.”
“Jensen?” you croak.
“Do you need some water?” You nod and he grabs a small cup of water. He helps you drink before setting the cup down. “How are you feeling?”
“What happened?”
“You collided with another car. The bastard left instead of staying but cops found him near where the cabin is. There’s only one road going in and out of town so it wasn’t hard to spot the truck with bumper damage. Your car is totaled though.”
Oh, yeah. The reason why you didn't see the other car is because you had tears flowing out of your eyes the entire time. Why were you crying? Right. Jensen was going to choose Denise over you. You take your hand away from his when you remember this and shift further from him.
“Where is Denise?”
“Gone.” Your eyes snap to his. “I broke up with her.”
“What? Why?”
“She made me choose. Anyone who makes me choose isn’t good enough to be with me.”
“What did she make you choose?” you ask even though you know the answer.
“It was either you or her, and you should know by now I will always choose you.”
“You shouldn’t have had to do that.”
“I’m glad she did.” He grabs your good hand and kisses the back of it. “I was blind to who was by my side my entire life.”
You smile and run your thumb on the back of his hand.
“What does this mean?”
“First, you get better. Then, I’m going to show you just how much I love you.”
“Deal,” you smile shyly.
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When What We Had Was Everything Pt. 2
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This is a three part fic series and will complete three of my @jacklesversebingo card spaces. This first part will fill the "You won't take care of yourself, so I will." square. Pt. 2 will fill the But We Lost It square. Pt. 3 will fill the They're Out of Time square. ❤️
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Summary: When Y/N really needs him, Jensen steps up, leaving all their past in the past. Can Y/N possibly do the same?
Pairing: Jensen x Reader (Y/N)
Warnings: Nothing major. Funeral. Brief mentions of grief and loss. Some light making out.
Word Count: 3, 935
A/N: This second part was a long time coming. I'm so sorry. I've just struggled with the muses on this one. I hope I can get part 3 (final part) out to you much sooner. I've given the reader's father the name, "Steven" just because it felt unnatural to not name him, and calling him something like, YFN felt strange given the setting.
Enjoy!
Jensen Ackles Master List || Main Master List || Tag Lists
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Everything with Jensen had been like a whirlwind. Surreal and beautiful, and seemingly built to crumble. 
She’d met him randomly in a parking garage when she was visiting friends in L.A. She’d accidentally locked herself out of her car, and he’d used his Dean Winchester skills to break into it for her.
Their attraction had been immediate and raging. They’d gone for drinks one night, gone to dinner the next, and then gone to bed before dessert. Sleeping with guys on a second date wasn’t usual for Y/N. In fact, before that, she’d never slept with anyone she wasn’t already in a relationship with. 
But Jensen had barely kissed her, simply moving his hard, gentle hands slowly down her hips and pulling her flush against him, before every rational thought she had immediately flew out of her head. He’d charmed her completely and she fell hard and fast.
It was unlike anything Y/N had ever experienced before. So, deep down, she’d had a very hard time trusting it. It scared her. He scared her. 
She loved him almost immediately and that didn’t feel real. Love at first sight was stupid and impossible. She loved him so easily that subconsciously she was always sure he was hiding things from her. It wasn't  possible that this good, beautiful, generous, talented guy was so completely into her; things like that didn't happen to boring girls in small towns. So she kept waiting for the other shoe to drop with him.
Josie said she sabotaged herself, but Y/N preferred to think of it as protecting herself. If she let herself think about a life with him, a life of passion, love, contentment, quiet luxury and maybe even a family, her heart would shatter when he finally woke up and walked away.
So she'd fought hard to keep her emotional distance from him. She was desperate to keep control of the situation.
That night, after seeing Jensen for the first time in almost six months, Y/N spent the night tossing and turning, running everything over in her mind. By the time the sun rose and she gave up on trying for more sleep, she came to the realization that trying to protect herself had failed miserably. Her heart had shattered anyway when things ended and he walked away. 
It was shattered still.
Having gotten even less sleep than the night before, Y/N rolled out of bed with a groan, and tried to put all of those memories and heartaches aside. There was a lot to do, and the day was going to be hard enough.
Putting feelings aside became impossible, however as she walked into the kitchen and saw Jensen sitting alone at the table, staring into a cup of coffee.
He looked up as she walked in, the surprise in his expression receding into a smile as he nodded towards the coffee pot on the counter. 
“I just made some. Hope you don't mind.”
Y/N smiled awkwardly and walked over to pour herself a cup. “No, of course not. Thank you. Today demands a lot of coffee and it demands it immediately.”
She blew on the steaming liquid as she sat down at the table, and then took a sip. She swallowed it quickly, however, burning her mouth and throat a little, as Jensen reached out to cover her empty hand with his. 
“How did you sleep?”
Y/N shook her head and pulled her hand away under the pretense of tucking her hair behind her ear.
“Not great, you know, but…” She ended with a shrug and Jensen nodded. 
“Yeah.”
She was quiet for a moment, and then smiled ruefully. “I feel like…I’m the oldest, so I'm supposed to know what to do for everything. I mean, I was fifteen when mom died, but Jo and David were just kids. They don't remember any of the details of what happened at her funeral.”
Jensen frowned. “Y/N, what do you mean, THEY were kids. You were a kid too.”
Y/N shrugged. “Sure, I guess. But they were barely double digits. I'm the one who should remember best, the way things went on the day. So, I keep thinking I should warn them about what to expect. But the truth is most of that day is a blur.”
Jensen leaned towards her across the table, catching  her gaze. “David and Josie are both grown adults, I'm sure they'll be okay. As okay as can be expected, anyway.”
Y/N nodded. “Yeah, I suppose, just…old habits, I guess.” She hummed softly. “You know one of the only things I remember really clearly about the day of mom's funeral?”
Jensen gave a gentle shake of his head. “What?”
“I remember being in the bathroom at the church, in one of the stalls, and I overheard two of my aunties talking. They didn't know I was in there, but I heard my Auntie Sheila crying and talking to my Auntie Debbie, saying, ‘How on earth is he supposed to take care of those kids all by himself?’ They both agreed that for a man who worked as much as he did, and traveled so much for his job, it was going to be impossible.”
Y/N chewed on her lip and stared down at her coffee. “I remember that conversation terrifying me. I had visions of being sent away to some boarding school or shuttled off to some relative in the countryside.”
She smiled sheepishly. “My Dad would never have done that, I realize now. And I probably just read too much C.S. Lewis as a kid. But it scared me enough that I determined then and there that Dad wouldn't raise us by himself. I was raised already, so I could step in and help raise Joey and Davie.”
Jensen shook his head. “I'm so sorry, sweetheart.”
Y/N waved dismissively. “No, it was fine. My Dad changed a lot of his work around so he could be here to take care of us. He was still our parent, and would sometimes have to remind me of that. He'd get after me to get a social life.”
She chuckled. “I think that was one of the reasons he adored you so much. You were the first guy I ever dated that I wasn't also mothering in some way. He used to tell me I needed to find a guy that wanted a partner, not a mother.”
Y/N stopped short as she realized what she was saying. Jensen was just so easy to talk to, she'd let her words fly away from her. She forgot that “past them” wasn't something they were supposed to be talking about.
She took another scalding sip of coffee and stood up. 
“Anyway, sorry for yammering. I should go get ready. And you might wanna steal a shower before the whole house is awake and all the hot water runs out.” She said with an attempt at a laugh.
Jensen looked like he was going to say something, so she quickly set her half full mug in the sink and took off as fast as her feet could carry her.
***
Jensen shifted slightly on the hard wooden pew, and breathed in the church smells around him, lemon furniture wax, old paper, and dust. It was a beautiful space with large stained glass windows and a lot of stone work and moldings.
He didn't know many of the people there. Y/N and her siblings were somewhere in the back rooms, likely going over where they'd be sitting and what was going to happen during the service.
He'd received a few odd looks from people who seemed to recognize him and then quickly dismiss the possibility that it was him. Thankfully no one had approached him.
As he sat waiting for the service to begin something caught his eye and he turned to see Y/N, half hidden behind a side door, and frantically waving him over.
Puzzled, he stood and scooched past the people at the end of the pew, walking quickly over to Y/N. Her eyes were frantic and panicked as she shut the door behind them. 
“I can't do it.” She said without preamble. “He says he can't, but I can't either! I can't! I don't know what to say!”
Jensen was desperately trying to decipher her words, but was hopelessly confused as she continued.
“I should have known he wouldn't. He said he wanted to; he literally told me I had to let him do it. I mean, he's kind of a writer, so of course I let him, but I should have known it would be too much. I mean, when he couldn't get it together enough to pick up Aunt Sheila at the airport yesterday, what fucking chance was there that he was gonna be able to write and deliver a eulogy!”
Jensen was starting to piece things together, and he felt his heart clench over Y/N's obvious fear and panic. He took her cheeks in his hands and tried to calm her.
“It's okay, baby. It's okay.” The endearment slipped out easily, just as it had when he'd first seen her the day before. “You're talking about David? He was supposed to deliver the eulogy.”
Y/N closed her eyes and nodded; the way she leaned into him a little made him wanna scoop her up and take her away from everything. But obviously, he couldn't do that, so he just confirmed his assumption.
“And now, he can't do it?”
She nodded again. “Can't do it, didn't write it.” She croaked out. “I have a packed church full of people, waiting to honor my father and I have absolutely nothing to say about him.”
Jensen took hold of her hands and squeezed them. “Of course you have things to say, sweetheart. Just say what comes into your heart.”
Y/N laughed without humor. “You should know better than anyone that I don't know how to do that.”
He felt his heart squeeze at the reminder of what happened the last time they'd had a discussion about what was in her heart. He saw the trepidation come back into her expression, just like earlier that morning, when the subject of their past popped up.
He shook his head, dislodging memories of hurt and disappointment. “You don't have to delve too deep. Just give a sweet anecdote or two, and talk about how much he was loved.”
Y/N’s eyes lit up. “You do it.”
Jensen shook his head. “What? No, I can't.”
But Y/N was nodding. “Sure you can. You speak on a stage for a living. You're good at telling sweet little anecdotes. Please, please, Jensen. I know it's too much. I know. But I l…I-” 
She cut herself off and let her forehead drop to his chest. “Please.” She whispered.
Jensen knew he was setting himself up for more pain later, but he couldn't stop himself from gathering her close and squeezing her tight against him. Her soft, warm, body felt so right and natural fitted along his that he let himself ignore the warning bells going off in his mind.
“Okay, baby.” He said softly, whispering against her sweet smelling hair before kissing the crown of her head. “Okay, I'll do it. You should come up and stand with me though so it looks less weird that some random stranger is speaking.”
Y/N nodded. “Thank you.”
Jensen didn't return to his spot in the crowd. Instead he sat beside Y/N in the front of church, holding her hand tightly since she refused to let go.
Soon enough, the minister announced there would be a slight change in the service and a “friend of the family” was going to speak instead of David. 
David slouched in the pew beside Y/N and as they passed him to walk up on the dais, Jensen clamped a consoling hand on the young guy's shoulder. He knew the kid would be feeling like shit and there was no reason for it. Grief stole a lot of things from you sometimes, even your words. 
They walked behind the lectern and Jensen cleared his throat as he spoke into the slightly echoey microphone. Y/N clung to his right hand and pressed tight to his side as he spoke.
“Good afternoon everyone. On behalf of the family, I'd like to say how gratifying it is to see so many people here to mourn with us, but more importantly, celebrate with us as we honor Steven's life.”
He cleared his throat again and smiled. “Steven was a big guy who left a very big impression on the people he met. He was warm and welcoming in a way that you don't always see much these days.”
Jensen paused and then smiled. “Not long after I met him for the first time, I happened to mention that I was a big Stevie Ray Vaughan fan - just as part of an idle conversation, you know. But the next time I saw him, he had this vintage Austin Chronicle magazine with him on the cover, and he just gave it to me. It wasn't my birthday, or Christmas.”
Jensen shrugged. “He said he just happened to come across it in an old bookstore and thought of me.” He shook his head remembering how touched he'd been. “It was just the way he was.”
He let that sentiment dangle in the air for a moment before continuing. “Steven loved his family and friends without conditions and without limits. He had such strength of spirit, the kind of soul deep goodness that drew in all of us who are here today. He was a very easy guy to love and someone we always wanted on our side. Which he always was.”
Jensen cleared his throat. “So, once again, we want to thank you all for being here with us. And the family, and Steven's children especially, want to tell you how much it means to them. Thank you.” He finished.
He walked off the dais with Y/N following close and he could almost feel the way her muscles relaxed as they sat down. 
“Thank you.” She whispered quietly and Jensen squeezed her hand, ignoring his instinct to bring it to his lips.
***
Y/N breathed in the fresh, cool evening air, and sat down on the wide porch swing that looked out across her childhood backyard. Memories tumbled over themselves in her mind, all happy, but bearing the sharp taste of bittersweet nostalgia. 
She sighed and closed her eyes, letting a semblance of peace settle over her, as the stressful, painful day subsided somewhat now that the vast majority of guests had returned home. 
The back door opened and she looked over her shoulder and smiled.
Not all guests, she thought, as Jensen smiled back and quietly closed the door behind him. He leaned against it and thumbed towards the kitchen on the other side. 
“You know, you got enough casseroles in there to wait out the apocalypse.”
Y/N laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah, we'll have to split them between the three of us.” She shook her head. “I think most people have forgotten that none of us actually live here anymore.”
A thought occurred to her and her brow wrinkled. “Come to think of it, at some point, Josie, Davie and I are all gonna have to get together and figure out everything we need to sell this place.” 
She looked around her and felt a painful tug on her heart at the idea of leaving her home for real, for good. 
“God, I don't even know how to start with something like that.” Her mind began to swirl with worries and questions she needed to answer. But they stopped when Jensen took two steps over to the porch swing and picked up her hand. He gave it a squeeze as he sat beside her.
“But it's not something you have to worry about today, right? Or next week? Or even next month?”
Y/N started to argue but then realized he was right. That was tomorrow's worry.
Jensen nodded, happy as she relaxed against the back of the swing. He settled himself beside her and began to rock the swing slowly, pushing them back and forth with his feet planted on the old wooden porch.
Y/N felt the final knots in her stomach begin to ease as she listened to the fireflies start to buzz through the trees. She couldn't stop her head from dropping onto Jensen's shoulder, or the extended sigh that escaped her slightly parted lips.
Quiet reigned for a few minutes and Y/N allowed herself to bask in the peace for a while. Finally she broke the silence though, as she shifted slightly so she could look at Jensen.
“You know, I can't possibly repay you for everything you've done the last couple days.”
Jensen shook his head. “Well, it's a good thing repayment isn't necessary.”
Y/N smiled shyly. “Seriously, though, I wouldn't have made it through this without you.”
Jensen scoffed lightly and waved a dismissive hand. “Course you would’ve.”
She hummed softly. “Hmm, maybe, but certainly not in one piece.”
Jensen's smile turned rueful. “Well, you're very welcome, sweetheart.”
It was quiet for a moment more, but the air was more charged this time, something warm and inviting springing to life between them. 
Jensen cleared his throat and sat up a little, breaking their intense stare. “I think it's time I, I head out.”
Y/N felt her heart plummet. “I thought your flight was tomorrow.”
Jensen nodded. “Yeah, it is. But it's a pretty early one, and you know, it's an international flight; gotta get there so far ahead of time. So, I'm just gonna drive into Kingston tonight, get a room, and head out to the airport first thing.”
Y/N nodded calmly, but her heart was pumping loudly. “Or…or you can save yourself the hotel expense and just stay here one more night. I mean, you can head out from here early enough to make your flight. It just…you know, just makes more sense.”
Jensen shook his head. “No, that’s…” He cleared his throat and pulled away completely. “I don’t wanna put you all out for another night.”
He stood up to go, and Y/N panicked, jumping up after him and grabbing his hand. “You won’t be. I don’t…Jensen, I don’t want you to go.”
She watched the muscle jump in his jaw and felt her belly clench. She took a step closer so that she pressed against him and raised her hand to run gently over his close-cropped, silky beard. “Please don’t go.”
She raised up on tiptoe to press her mouth against his ever so briefly, but his lips were so soft and warm that she had to go back again, pressing tighter against the velvety pillows, and flicking her tongue out to taste them. 
Jensen groaned slightly and brought his hands up to cup her jaw, tilting his head to the right and deepening the kiss.
Y/N wanted to cry with joy as she wrapped her arms around his neck, breathing deeply through her nose and inhaling the intoxicating scent of Jensen’s cologne and the scent that seemed to linger in his skin all the time, something uniquely him, and devastatingly carnal.
Far too quickly Jensen let out a soft growl and pulled away abruptly. “Y/N.” He said breathlessly. “This isn’t a good idea. I can’t do this.”
Y/N shook her head and tried to pull him back, fists bunched in his black dress shirt. “No, Jensen, you don’t understand. I’m so sorry for the way things ended. I never should have let you leave. I should have let you in more. I shouldn’t have let what we had fade away like it did.”
Jensen was shaking his head. “Y/N, you don’t owe me any apologies. Really-”
“Yes, I do!” Y/N interrupted. “I should have trusted you more, trusted what we had. I…”
Jensen leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “Y/N, you’re only feeling this way because of what’s happened the last couple of days. I came to help out and you’re grateful. Your gratitude and your grief are clouding your judgement.”
“No.” Y/N said adamantly. “That’s not what’s happening. I’ve felt this way for a long time, I just haven’t had the courage to tell you.”
She saw Jensen waver for a moment and Y/N pressed her advantage, pulling his lips down to hers once again and pushing her fingers into his soft hair, easing it back at his temples. Jensen lost the battle again, this time with a much deeper groan of capitulation. He walked her backwards to press her against one of the wide pillars holding up the porch roof.
He panted faintly as his lips scorched a trail down the side of her neck. He unzipped her black dress on the side just far enough to slip his callused fingers inside, grazing the soft, delicate skin on the side of her breast. Y/N bit into her lip to keep from crying out and buried her face in his chest.
But once again Jensen pulled back, gentler this time, less abrupt. His fingers slid from her skin to zip her dress back up and he placed a final kiss to her temple before he stepped away, lifting a hand as Y/N tried to close the distance between them again.
“Y/N listen to me. You have no idea how much I want to believe you, that these feelings are just coming out of this complicated moment. But, not even six months ago, when I asked you to come live with me, the mere idea of going to the next level of our relationship made you break up with me.”
Y/N shook her head. “No, it wasn’t like that.”
But Jensen just kept talking. “Then you lost your dad and you reached out because a part of you knew I’d be here, that you could count on me. And I’m really glad you did, and I’m very glad I could help even a little.” He smiled gently. “But I’m not going to take advantage of your vulnerability and gratitude like this.”
Y/N opened her mouth to contradict him, but he just shook his head. “You can’t possibly know your feelings right now, sweetheart. They’re gonna be all jumbled up with everything else, including the goddamn raging fire that crops up between us every time we get close.”
His green eyes burned with heat and made Y/N ache with a passion she knew wasn’t going to be resolved. He was determined, and she knew that look of stubbornness all too well.
“I gotta go.” He said quietly and turned to go back in the house, but then turned back as he reached for the porch door. “Three months. Give yourself three months. To get a little distance, put things into perspective a bit. If in three months you still feel the same…well? You have my number. I’ll watch for you.”
He took three big strides back to where she stood and wrapped her up in his arms once again. He held her briefly, but very tightly before he kissed the top of her head.
“Take care, sweetheart.” He said quietly before walking briskly back through the doors.
Y/N’s eyes swam with tears, but her voice was resolute. “See you in three months.”
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deansbite · 4 months ago
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 ❜𓏲   alec mcdowell   𓎟𓎟
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⠀hey there !! this is a masterlist of a specific ⠀character, in this case, alec mcdowell. my ⠀fanfics will have authours notes & warnings as ⠀to what will be in the fics ! i am not responsible ⠀for what any of you decide to read. anywho, if ⠀you like my writing, i’d appreciate feedback or ⠀even a reblog. happiest of reading to you guys !!
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🎸 „ fluff  📻 „ smut  🎙️ „ angst
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   ❛  Oh my angel  𓂂  🎸🎙  𝜚
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