#mimis romcom fluff challenge

[wvnchxstxr]

A Tradition to Share

Title : A Tradition to Share

Author : @wvnchxstxr

Characters : Sam x Sister!Reader, Dean x Sister!Reader

Word Count : 1628

Warnings : profanity, fluff

Summary : You are forced onto the road after receiving coordinates from your dad. But, it’s also your birthday and it seems to be forgotten. That is, until the boys surprise you, and you reminisce with Sam in return.

A/N Note : Wow, this one got away from me, but I enjoyed this one very much. It was a lot of fun to do. This is for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog RomCom Fluff Challenge. My prompt was “I can’t believe this. They fucking forgot my birthday” from the movie Sixteen Candles. It doesn’t really have any romance since it’s a sister!reader, but it’s definitely fluffy. This is set during season 1, shortly after Dean pulled Sam away from college.

     “Rise and shine, Y/N. Time to move on out.” Sam pulled the covers off of your sleepy body while Dean opened the curtains of the dingy motel room to let the sunshine hit your face. You groaned and rolled over, putting your pillow over your head.

    “Nope, not happening, sweetheart.” Dean pulled the pillow away from your head.

    “What the hell, Dean? You guys are mean.” You sat up and crossed your arms in front of your chest. It was still relatively early in the morning and you didn’t understand why they were telling you to get up.

    “You know the drill. Dad gave us more coordinates. Get dressed. We gotta go.”

    You groaned once more and got up, moving to your bag. Digging through it, you found your last clean t-shirt and your favorite pair of skinny jeans, the ones that hugged your ass in the right places. You also pulled out a flannel and your letterman jacket. “Give me five minutes.” You grabbed your phone from off the couch and continued into the bathroom.

    You turned your phone on and pressed play to your favorite playlist. You quickly got dressed and put your hair into a messy bun on the top of your head. There was no need to look good since the day would probably be filled completely with driving. You sighed and looked at yourself in the mirror. You were pretty, but the years on the road and the junk food did not treat you kindly. It didn’t really bother you though. You liked being with your brothers, no matter how annoying they were.

    A knock on the door startled you. “Coming, Y/N?”

    “Yeah, sorry.” You picked up your phone, turning your music off. It wasn’t until then you saw the date. Your birthday. Your eighteenth birthday, to be exact. You’d almost forgotten about it. “Huh. I’m getting old.” You opened the door to the bathroom and grabbed your bag, ready to face a day in the Impala.

    An hour or close goes by and you leaned  forward, striking up a conversation. “Hey, what day is it?”

    “Wednesday.”

    “Yeah, I know that, but what’s the date?”

    “Y/B/M Y/B/D.”

    “Does that day mean anything to you guys?”

    Both your brothers shrug. “No. Not really.”

    You sighed and sat back in your seat. ‘I can’t believe this,’ you thought to yourself. ‘They fucking forgot my birthday.’ You looked out the window for a while before you grabbed your earbuds from your bag. You plugged them in before turning your music on full blast, drowning out the purr of the Impala’s engine. You closed your eyes and got lost in the music, finally listening to something that wasn’t released before 1975. You hummed along before you were overcome by sleep.

You woke up to Dean pulling out your earbuds and opening the door. “Get out of the car, sleepyhead. We’ve got a job to do.” He grabbed your hands and helped you out of the car. The sun was low in the sky so you figured it was around six thirty. That meant you were sleep for nearly ten hours. Great. You just wasted half of your birthday sleeping. There were worse ways to spend your birthday. Like, your fourteenth birthday was spent hunting a wendigo and almost got Dean and yourself killed before Sam came in and torched the thing.

You walked around to the back of the Impala to grab your bags, but Dean stopped you. “Already taken care of. Just get in the room.”

You rolled your eyes and grabbed the key from Dean. The lock opened and you pushed to the door open. You looked up to see balloons everywhere and a homemade “Happy Birthday Y/N” banner hanging up over the beds. You smiled widely and turned around to see Sam and Dean lighting candles on top of a cake. You covered your smile with your hands. “You guys remembered.”

“Of course, we did. You’re our little sister, we have to remember.” Sam kissed your forehead and moved out of your way.

You blew out your candles, thinking of your wish; a wish you knew wouldn’t come true, but it didn’t hurt to try.

“So, the whole thing in the car about today was to get me upset and make me think you guys forgot about my birthday? And Dad didn’t really give us coordinates? That was just to get me out of bed?”

“That’s exactly what it was. And you falling asleep worked out in our favor because we were able to get everything ready without you getting suspicious.” Sam answered.

“Yeah, it’s not everyday your little sister turns eighteen now, is it?” Dean laughed.

“Thank you. Seriously, thank you. I don’t remember the last time I had a birthday party if I ever did. I mean it. You guys are the best.” You hugged your big brothers, wrapping your arms around their middles. They hugged you back, each kissing your head. You let go before it got awkward. “Who wants cake?”

The rest of the night was filled with cake, alcohol, and laughter. Jokes were thrown back and forth, memories of hunts were brought up, and all in all, a hell of a good time.

Later, when the boys were asleep, you snuck out of the room and climbed on top of your brother’s beloved car and looked up at the stars, a birthday tradition of yours. You looked for the constellations you knew and tried to discover new ones. You watched shooting stars go by, your imagination taking flight. You relaxed, letting your mind go blank, and watched the night sky twinkle around you.

“Y/N? What are you doing out here?” Your thoughts were interrupted with a groggy, concerned voice.

“Hey, Sammy. I’m just watching the stars. Would you like to join me?” You took Sam’s answer as a yes when you felt the car dip slightly under his weight. Sam slid next to you and watched the sky with you.

“Why are you awake?”

“I always watch the stars on my birthday. Since I was seven.”

“Huh.. I didn’t know that.”

“Really? I thought you knew I liked astronomy.”

“I knew you liked astronomy, but I didn’t know you did this.”

“It’s just a thing I like to do whenever I get the chance.”

“How often do you do this?”

“The nights I can’t sleep. Or the nights that Dean’s still at the bar and I have to wait in the car. That’s actually when it first started.” You chuckled softly at the memory. “Dean wanted a night out. I was like five, and you were seven. Dean couldn’t leave us alone, per Dad’s orders. But, he wanted to see his ‘girlfriend’, so he took us with. You were grumbling the whole way, called him a jerk. I was little and didn’t know any better so I grabbed his hand and followed him wherever. I still do that.” Another giggle. “When we got there, he told us to wait outside, and he climbed into the window. You just laid down in the grass with me, covering me up with your jacket. We waited, and you ended up falling asleep. When you did, I looked up at the sky and started star gazing. First time ever. It was magical.”

“Hey. I actually remember that. It wasn’t until early the next morning that Dean climbed back out to take us back to the motel room. You ended up getting very sick, with pneumonia, I think. Dad was furious with him.”

“Mhmm. I spent a week in the hospital. Dean felt awful and he stayed by my bed nearly the whole time.”

“Dad started leaving us at Bobby’s after that.”

“Yeah. He had to make sure we wouldn’t get into any more trouble.”

Sam laughed. “We weren’t the problem. Dean was.”

You giggled. “I know. But, I liked it at Bobby’s. He taught me about cars and guns. He even got me my very first pistol when I was eleven.”  

“Dad was pissed at that, too. He didn’t want you growing up in the life, but it was kinda inevitable. I mean, you’re a fucking Winchester for God’s sake.”

You nodded. You were a Winchester and nothing was going to change that. You knew everything about everything by the age of thirteen. You were a hunter, there was no denying it. You and your brothers were pretty damn good at it too. You took pride in your job, even if it wasn’t a prideful job. You’ve seen more shit than any one person would in their lifetime and you were only eighteen. But, you’ve saved more lives than doctors can imagine saving, and that was something to be proud of.

Sam looked at you before returning his gaze to the stars above. “You don’t remember this because you were still a baby, but Mom used to say that angels watch over us and say that the number of stars were the number of souls in Heaven. She said that when a star twinkled it was a loved one waving.”

You smiled, suddenly realizing your fascination with stars came from your mother. You felt comforted by this thought, at peace. This felt right.

You watched the stars with your brother by your side and nothing could be better.

Your brother kept you company until the sun came up. When you two moved back inside, Dean was still asleep. Sam grabbed the car keys and said he was off to grab breakfast and coffee.

Before he left, he turned to you. “Thanks for sharing your tradition with me. I just might have to do it again next year.”

You smiled and nodded. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

Tags : @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @actualmadi @impala-dreamer @riversong-sam @ilostmyshoereads @jpadjackles

[deanssweetheart23]

Crazy, Stupid, Love

Title: Crazy, Stupid, Love

Summary: When the girl Dean’s been in love with for years returns home from a disastrous date, he takes it upon himself to make her feel better. But things do not go as planned and feelings he’d kept under wraps for years begin to surface. Which is a bad thing. Right?

Author: deanssweetheart23

Characters: Dean Winchester x reader, Cameron (OMC, mentioned)

Word count: 2191

Warnings: Language, a smudge of angst and fluff. So much fluff, guys. 

Author’s Notes: This is my submission for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s Romcom Fluff Challenge and @hannahindie‘s HanCelebratesWithPawnee challenge. Ladies, thank you so much for granting me an extension and allowing me to combine your two wonderful challenges. I hope this was worth the wait.

Special thank you to my twin @ravengirl94 who’s helped me so much with this. She’s the best. 

My prompts for this were “I’m wildly unhappy, and I’m trying to buy it, and it’s not working” from Crazy, Stupid, Love (I am so in love with that movie btw) and “I’m fine. It’s just that life is pointless, and nothing matters, and I’m always tired.” (Both are included in bold in the text below. Gif’s not mine. x )

Without further ado. Enjoy <3

The kitchen was a mess, filled with empty pans, dough-dusted spoons and muffin-stuffed cooling racks while specks of splattered batter and flour painted the surface of the counter in shades of white, the homely image reminding Dean of mornings he used to spend by his mother’s side while she baked his favorite pie or cut the crust off his sandwich.

Tightening his grip around the glass he’d been holding, Dean felt his heart clenching painfully at the memory and waited for the all too familiar feelings of homesickness and grief to wash over him like they always did, but Y/N caught the subtle change in him and reached over to graze his arm with her fingertips, the light pressure enough to ground him back to Earth, back into the moment he got to spend with her.

It was one of the things he loved about her, the way she could read him like an open book, how she accepted him for all he was, taking in mistakes and wounds and scars and giving nothing but smiles and affection in return.

Y/N was warmth and comfort to him and that was partly the reason he’d been glad that he was the one she sought for after that date of hers went terribly wrong. He’d been glad because she trusted him enough to be vulnerable around him, trusted him enough to let him in, let him wipe that look of disappointment off her face with a silly joke and a forehead kiss, and tell her that, God, she deserved so much better than Mr. Ballsy, the guy who thought buying her a drink would land him a one-way ticket to her bed.

Because Y/N did deserve better.

She deserved a guy who’d love her with every single beat of his heart, one who’d long for meaningful conversations and movie nights with her, and, even though he had given up on being that guy a long time ago, he’d be damned if he didn’t move heaven and earth to make her happy.

So, he leaned against the counter, sipping some of his whiskey, and watched as she moved around the kitchen in a Zeppelin shirt that had once been his, humming something that sounded awfully like Simple Man under her breath.

“You know,” Dean licked his lips, one brow up in complete amusement, “I still don’t get why you love muffins so much.”

“Um. Because they’re delicious, ridiculously easy to bake and pretty to look at.”

“I dunno, sweetheart.” He smirked, heat dancing in his eyes as he grabbed a cinnamon muffin from a platter nearby. “You know me. I’m a pie guy.”

“And yet, you’re eating my muffins.” She gushed, hands on her hips.

“Just trying to make sure they’re edible, Y/N.”

“Mhmhm. You’re a real knight in the shining armor, aren’t you?”

“Knight in the shining armor is my middle name and you know it, kid.” 

She smiled then, that smile of hers that was so pure and sunny and real, and it warmed his heart.

“There’s that smile.” Dean beamed, wrapping his warm fingers around her wrist to pull her flush against him, large hands coming to cup her face. “Don’t you ever let anyone make you feel like wanting something more than a quick roll between the sheets is pointless, you hear me?”

She nodded.

“Yeah. I hear ya, D.” Eyes filled with gratitude and something else, something that looked awfully like love. “Thank you. For tonight.”

He grinned.

How could he not?

“Anytime, kid.” He whispered, lips on her temple in a sweet kiss. “Anytime.”

Dean let out a deep sigh and ran a hand over his face tiredly, casting a quick glance on his night-stand.

0:00 and Y/N still hadn’t returned.

Or called.

Or texted.

Because she was on a date.

With a douchewad named Cameron.

Cameron for fuck’s sake.

And yet, he’s the one who got the girl, Winchester, the small voice in the back of his mind reminded him.

“Oh, bite me, you dick.” Dean growled through gritted teeth.

“Dean? Is that you?” Y/N’s soft voice traveled through the walls of the bunker and caught him off guard, prompting him to swear crudely under his breath.

“Yeah, I’m –I’m right here, sweetheart.”

Seconds later, Y/N was leaning against the doorframe, arms folded in front of her chest and eyes shining under the low lights.

“If I even think about going out on a date ever again, I need you to punch me.”

“Whoa, there, kid.” Dean held up his hands, concern sneaking its way into his voice. “What happened?”

“Oh. You know. Nothing.” Y/N grounded out in frustration as she plopped down on the bed next to him.  

“Y/N.”

“No, Dean. Really. I’m fine. It’s just that life is pointless, and nothing matters, and I’m always tired.”

“Well, as long as you’re not being dramatic about it.”

“Shut up.”

He chuckled at her eloquent response, brittle yet amused, and draped a hand over her hip to pull her closer, until she was snuggled into him, then dropped a kiss in her hair, chin resting at the top of her head.

“I take it that date of yours didn’t go well, huh?”

Rubbing at her forehead, she huffed out a breath, not quite a laugh.

“Honestly, I don’t even know why I agreed to this.” She sighed, eyes closed. “All that guy wanted was to get laid. And he was just so obvious about it.”

Green eyes turning misty.

A clench of his jaw.

“Did he-”

“No. God, no, It wasn’t like that, D.” She explained and lifted her leg over his own, a silent reassuring gesture. “He was just…desperate to get it on, that’s all. Said a few hurtful things when he realized I wasn’t going to go back to his house.”

“Son of a bitch.”

“S’ okay, D.” She whispered, soft and warm as she looked up at him. “I shouldn’t have gone in the first place.”

“Sweetheart, don’t you dare-”

“No. Look. I’m not saying that because I believe what that asshole said or whatever. I’m just being honest with myself.” She cut him off, pressing her hand to her cheek. “I wasn’t even excited about the date, man. I was just…”

Scowling in confusion at the way she’d bit her tongue, he raised an eyebrow and puckered his forehead slightly.

“You were just what, kid?”

“Nothing.” She breathed out.

“But you said-”

She cracked a small, sad smile.

 “Doesn’t matter.”

And Dean could see that she was lying, could tell there was something she wasn’t telling him because he knew her like he knew the back of his hand but-

“Tell you what.” She said suddenly, biting on her bottom lip. “You hungry?”

“I could eat.” He replied, eyes going narrow. “Why d’you ask?”

She got up then, brow up in delight.

“When was the last time you and I made something together?”

“You have scented candles?” Dean gasped, as he stared at Y/N, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes.

They were in the war room now, sprawled across the sofa she’d sneaked in there months ago, and even though Dean believed that he’d forgotten what being happy felt like, he realized, as she smiled at him leaned against the armrest, legs thrown over his lap and cheeks pink from all the whiskey she’d been drinking, that there, in that moment, he could taste the happiness in his tongue, could feel it wrapping around him like a warm coat on a cold winter’s day.

“Dude, I have so many of them.” She cackled, fingers curled at the bottom of her glass. “Lavender. Apple. Rose. Honey and nectarine blossom.”

“Honey and what?”

A chuckle.

Head shaken in delight.

“Nectarine blossom. It’s…a peach. Kinda.” She took a long gulp and winced as the alcohol burned down her throat. “Ask me how much I paid for it.”

“How much did you pay for it?”

She leaned forward and grinned then, looking at him through the rim of her glass.

“42$.”

Dean’s jaw dropped to the floor.

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“Nope.” She mumbled, biting on her bottom lip to keep a straight face on. “You know that fancy shampoo I always buy?” A nod. “‘S supposed to be coconut and vanilla scented and it costs about 30$.”

“Sweetheart, what the hell?”

“I dunno, man.” She shrugged, throwing her head back quite dramatically. “I guess I’m just wildly unhappy, and I’m trying to buy it, and it’s not working.”

“Crazy, Stupid, Love?” Dean implored, incredulous. “That’s what you’re going with? Seriously, kid?”

“Yep. But to my defense, I never thought you’d actually get the reference.” She said, lips curled up in a playful smirk as a flush crept up his neck.

“I’m not… It’s not like –look. You fell asleep watching it one night, I tried to turn the TV off, I got curious. Let’s not make a big deal out of it.”

“Right.” She mumbled with a smile. “Anyway, I’m not,” she waved a hand, “wildly unhappy or anything. I just… I like doing little things for me. This job, you know how it can be…”

“Yeah,” Dean whispered, scraped and a bit razed, then locked a hand around her knee and gripped, “yeah, I do.”

There was one, two, three long bits of silence and then-

“I used to-” he started, scrubbing a hand over his mouth, “when we first took you in I used to wonder if you hated me sometimes.”

“Hate –Dean, why would I hate you?” she blinked, head titled as confusion floated across her face.

Glancing away, he scratched the back of his neck.

“Because you had a good life and I…” he cleared his throat, quietly “I took that away from you. Dragged you into all of this,” he gestured with his hands, “this shit-show. Put you in harm’s way.”

“Dean, that’s not… My old life ended the moment that vamp attacked me.” She ducked her head. “But you… I never hated you. You took me in when I had nowhere else to go. You helped me mend and I,” she drew a breath, “even if I could go back, I wouldn’t want to.”

“You can’t know that, sweetheart.” he retorted, but there was no accusation there, just the desperation of a man that wanted to make sure he wouldn’t have to lose her like he’d lost every other person he’d ever cared about, wanted to make sure she’d be the one to stay.

“Yeah, I can. I do. You and Sam, you’ve given me a family.” She told him, soft and sweet as she placed her hand over the one that was still lingering on her knee. “That’s all I need.”

And Dean knew he probably shouldn’t have said anything else, knew that he should have changed the subject and bottled everything up because there was no way this would end well, but there was something about the way she was tucked against him, the way they were both so intimately interlaced into the moment, all limbs and heat, and he just couldn’t let it go.

“And what about what you want, Y/N?”

She didn’t say anything.

Instead, she just looked at him, Y/E/C eyes burning into his with a ferocity he’d only seen a few times before, in stolen glances and warm smiles, silly looks over breakfast and loud laughs that echoed from the backseat of the Impala, then slid next to him, thighs brushing up against each other’s.

Her fingers began to twiddle with the edges of his leisurely.

When she spoke again, it was almost a whisper.

“I got everything I want here, too.”

He blinked at that, all the things he’d been trying to keep under wraps for years dancing at the tip of his tongue.

“Kid,” he started, low and rough at the back of his throat as he angled his body towards hers “am I-”

“Yeah,” she said, all openness and warmth. “You’re… Yeah.”

He smiled, a breathy, bittersweet smile for all the time lost, all the wishes about to come true, and clasped a hand at the side of her face, tipping forward.

He saw it then, saw the answers and the light and the love trapped within her gaze, and, pressed his lips on hers in the gentlest of kisses, wondering how he could have been so blind.

It was a warm kiss, just the right pressure of mouth on mouth, slow and sweet enough to pull a happy hum out of her and so, he kept going, fingers tangling in her hair as her hand slid up his back to pull him closer, kept moving his lips against hers until he worked his tongue into her, thorough and ardent, wanting to taste, wanting to feel everything.

“Jesus,” he rasped out when he pulled away, forehead braced against hers, “Jesus, kid, if you don’t walk away right now, I’m never going to stop.”

She beamed.

She actually beamed at him, that expression she always wore when she knew she could get Dean to do just about anything gracing her features.

“Sounds like a plan.”

And it was.

God, it was the best plan he’d ever had.

A/N: I swear I did not make the prices for the scented candles up, they’re all here. That’s right. I bookmared the link because I knew you wouldn’t believe me. Love y’all.

Tags: @jpadjackles @supernatural-jackles @ravengirl94 @trexrambling @emilywritesaboutdean @escabell @percywinchester27 @kathaswings @thevioletthourr @dancing-the-hellfire-rumba @impala-dreamer @imagining-supernatural @atari-writes @spngeronimo @keepcalmandcarryondean @becs-bunker @wordstothewisereaders @sgarrett49 @myrabbitholetoneverland @iwriteaboutdean @ruprecht0420 @captainemwinchester @pickupthatamulet @mogaruke @polina-93 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @imissyoualittlemoreeveryday @winchestersnco @wellthatsrandomkek @jayankles @winchesters-flannels @akshi8278 @tiny-friggin-human @becominglionhearted @hannahindie @mandilion76 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @a-glass-of-orange-juice @ravenangel33 @holahellohialoha @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @atc74 @dancingalone21 @juanitadiann @winchestersnfriends @castianityislife01 @sinistersaltqueen

[thing-you-do-with-that-thing]

Everything

Characters: Y/N Winchester, Dean Winchester, Castiel Novak, Sam Winchester, Benny Lafitte, Bela (Talbot) Lafitte, Bobby Singer, Jody Mills, Jim Murphy.    

Pairing: AU Mechanic!Dean x Wife!Reader

Warnings: suspense, language, implied smut, mention of sex, and another one but I putting that in the tags cause I don’t wanna give anything away.    

Word Count: 3400ish

A/N: So I have been listening to a lot of James Blunt lately and this song hasn’t been able to leave me alone. When I started thinking about @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog aka mommy Mimi’s romcom fluff challenge it came roaring back. My prompt for Mimi’s challenge was You’re going to be bad for business. I can tell from the movie Moulin Rouge. Because I felt I might have been one of the people that Mimi glared at in her challenge post I chose to challenge the premise of the challenge a bit. It is fluff! I swear! Mimi don’t hurt me :P And also sorry for being a little late.

Thanks to my sweet amazing lil sis Rach aka @mysupernaturalfics for betaing this one.

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Dean didn’t hear the customer yelling after him as he rushed through the front of his auto repair shop. He didn’t register his uncle Bobby hollowing from the scrap yard for him to drive safe and that he would be no good to you dead. All Dean could think about was the call he had gotten 2 minutes earlier. A call that he had been expecting but it had still knocked his wind right out of him. He was pale as a ghost as he got in behind the wheel of his 1967 chevy impala. Nothing in that moment mattered to him was getting to you.

Dean’s entire body was on autopilot as he got behind the wheel of his car, pulling into the street and heading towards the hospital. Memories of you were all that occupied his mind. Memories of how his nights had been calmer and sleep filled after you came into his life. Your presence made everything better and sleep wasn’t a task that needed to be conquered anymore. It came as natural as holding you tightly against his body. Memories of how you would be humming in the kitchen every morning before work making him breakfast because you didn’t have to be at the coffee shop until an hour after he had to be at work. He loved wrapping his arms around you from behind and feel you lean back into him. He loved the way you’d always tilt you head, silently asking him for a kiss, which he would happily grant you.

As Dean drove through the streets he knew so well, with his foot heavy on the gas, he couldn’t help but think about all the days he had wasted away from her. You had been his high school sweetheart. You had been his world back then. All through college you had been his rock and true constant. But when Sam had wanted to go to a college across the country Dean had followed his brother. Their parents had died when they were kids and the two of them were inseparable. You had cried the night that Dean left, but you had told him that you understood and you had, even if it had felt as if half your heart was being ripped from your chest and left with him. You had tried to make things work, but Dean had been an idiot not fighting hard enough for the best thing that he ever had. He had been an even bigger idiot for not realizing what he had been losing until it was gone. For the longest of time he saw you every street corner, in every smile of beautiful women that just never measured up to you. You had been the one and Dean had let you slip away. Fate had smiled on him years later when his best friend had set him up on a blind date a couple of years after returning to Kansas. Y/N was long gone or at least so Dean had thought.

“Come on Benny this is stupid,” Dean grumbled at his friend all but pushed him out the door. “I don’t need a damn blind date. I do fine on my own.”

“Really and how long has it been since one date got you a second or a third,” Benny raised an eyebrow at his friend, who just shrugged. He wasn’t really looking for a relationship like that. Dean loved women. He dated a lot, it was just very few of them that made it past the first month line. To be honest he was still not over the one, he had let get away. He would just never admit that fact to anyone. The only one who knew his secret about him was his little brother and that wasn’t because Dean had told it. Sam was just a goddamn mind reader or so it seemed at times.

“So you want me to call the poor girl who is probably already halfway to the restaurant by now?” Benny asked, making Dean groan. He didn’t want that either. He wasn’t out to make anyone feel bad about themselves or ruin their night. Surely Dean could play along with this and give the girl a good time. So he went. Grumbling the entire way just to get it out of his system but he went, only to get the shock of his life.

The girl he was meeting was going to wear a red dress and he would wear a red rose on his tux. The only woman in a red dress in that restaurant was Y/N. His Y/N and it took every ounce of courage Dean could muster to even walk up to your table.

“Hi Y/N/N,” Dean spoke softly, not sure how you would feel about him after all this time or if he even had any right to talk to you at all.

“Dean!” Surprise was written all over your face and it only grew when you saw the rose pinned to his jacket. “Oh.”

Dean nervously ran a hand behind the back of his neck and he lowered his eyes, “I didn’t know, I swear. If you want me to leave then…” he mumbled. Dean felt a jolt of electricity cause through him as you reached out and took his hand, smiling tenderly at him.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dee. Stay. Actually I hate blind dates and Bela just talked me into it because apparently her husband knew this guy, who could use a real date for once,” you teased and Dean let out a small chuckle as he sat down across from her.

“Really? Cause Benny said his wife had asked him to find a date for this girl who was too busy starting up a new business to go out and have any fun,” Dean winked at you, causing you to blush slightly before mumbling you were going to kill them both.

If you or Dean had ever doubted how you felt about each other after years of being apart, your date confirmed it. You still made his head spin and Dean still caused the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. You made him laugh and he made you feel like you were the only person in the room, even when your waitress tried to flirt with him. Dean was everything and more than you remembered him to be. You hadn’t even realized how much you had missed him until he offered to walk you home.

Dean was sad the night was almost over but at least you took his hand. Taking him up on his offer to let him join you on your walk back to your place, which apparently wasn’t far. He loved the way your hand still fit in his, like it belonged there and it had never left. His heart skipped a bit when you leaned into him slightly as you walked and he smiled as he realized just how much he still loved you. He hoped that there was still a small chance that you felt the same way.

Dean quietly watched you fiddle with your keys and unlock the door before you turned back to face him. There was no need to tell each other that you had both had a good time, you knew each other too well for that. Still, time had passed and Dean knew he had broken your heart along with his own when he left you behind. He gently tugged your hair behind your ear, smiling when you leaned into his touch and Dean slowly leaned forward.

“Can I kiss you goodnight,” Dean asked you hesitantly, only to have his heart shattered into a million pieces when you shook her head no. Dean quickly took a step back, running his hand nervously behind his neck not sure what to do, other than just leave and cut his losses.

You giggled softly taking a step forward, wrapping your arms around his neck, clearly surprising the hell out of him. He had hurt you, but he had never meant too. He had done what he thought was right. You didn’t hold any of it against him. You were both older now and you still loved him with all of your heart.

“I didn’t say I don’t want you to kiss me. Just not goodnight because the night is not over yet,” you sent him an almost shy smile as you watched the realization dawn on him and you  giggled when his lips crashed against yours.

You were both laughing, still trying to kiss each other, when you pulled him backwards into your home with you, silently vowing to yourself you’d never let him go again.

Dean managed to smile through his worry as he remembered how dazed he had been for weeks after that. You had been so busy with the opening of your coffee shop, that you had barely gotten any more than stolen moments and late nights at your place when he stopped by unannounced. Yet he had been happy. He remembered the person he had been with you. The person he always wanted to be and you seemed content and relaxed whenever he was around. You were two pieces of the same puzzle finally reunited after having spent years apart.

“Dean! I need to finish up. The customers will be coming soon,” you laughed as he grabbed your hand with a cheeky grin on his face, pulling you into the back office with him, kicking the door shut and pushing you against it. You moaned into his kiss and any objections you had tried to make left you as you wrapped your arms around his neck melting into him completely.

You closed your eyes enjoying the feeling of his hands roaming your body and his lips moving down your jaw to your neck. It took all of your will power to even attempt to get him off you.

“Dean,” his name came out more as a moan than an objection and Dean smiled knowingly against your skin as he continued his ministrations. “DEAN!” you laughed pushing at his shoulders, when his hands were dangerously close to move up your skirt.

His head fell down against your shoulder with a groan, making you laugh even harder. “You’re trouble.”

“And you are no fun,” Dean smirked, before pressing his lips against yours again. His kiss was more tender and loving this time, not searching for anything else that the joy of kissing you.

“Well, I’ll be a lot of fun later if you help me get the sign up out front,” you grinned pecking his lips, before dashing through the door, letting out a slight squeal when his hand landed with a satisfying smack against your ass.

You twirled around ready to scold him, only to see him grabbing a chocolate muffin of the tray on the counter throwing you a wink as he headed for the front door to do as you had ordered.

“You’re going to bad for business, Winchester. I can tell,” you called after him, making him laugh and you couldn’t help but shake your head with a loving smile on your face. Bad for business or not, you loved him and he belonged in your life.  

Dean had barely put the car into park before he was out the door and across the street. He ran through the hospital doors and down the hallways to the right wing. As he was running his mind wandered to the happiest day of his life. The day you had agreed to be his wife.

Dean laid on his back still completely dazed and blissed from the orgasm you had just rode out of him, loving the feel of you still straddling him, with your head resting against his shoulder and his arms wrapped around you.

He groaned a bit when you pulled yourself off him letting you fall down next to him. All thoughts left him as he looked looked over at you. Pure euphoria on your face as you smiled softly at him. Your skin was flushed and your hair a mess. You were absolutely breathtaking and without any thought what so ever the words fell from his lips. “Marry me?”

“What?” a surprise expression washed over your face and Dean wanted to kick himself, but the words were out and he couldn’t stop now. Dean quickly moved off the bed, finding his pants and pulling the ring from his pocket, before moving over to you now sitting up staring at him in confusion. Dean knelt down infront of you opening the box and your hands flew up to cover your mouth as you realized it wasn’t a moment of passion thing.

“Y/N/N. I love you. This wasn’t how I wanted to do this, but your just so damn perfect and I couldn’t hold it back any longer. I am sorry for all the time we wasted being apart. I don’t want to wake up another day without you by my side. If you’ll be my wife I promise you I will spend every day for the rest of my life proving to you how much I love you. I’ll never leave you again. Baby you’re my everything. Please marry me?” Dean looked up at her, smiling as you nodded.

“Yes. Of course I’ll marry you,” you laughed and Dean slid the ring on your finger, before letting you pull him him back into bed. Dean rolled on top of you, kissing you deeply, pouring all the love and adoration he held for you into it.

“Dean Winchester, did you just propose to me butt naked after sex?” you laughed and Dean couldn’t help but join in.

“Well, you agreed sweetheart. Whatever works right?” he teased kissing you again, before his hands started to roam your still naked body, causing you to moan against your fiancee’s lips.     

“Can you tell me where I can find Y/N Winchester,” Dean asked the nurse at the front desk, slightly out of breath from his run and from worrying.

“You’re Dean?” the nurse asked and Dean nodded. “Y/N will be so happy to see you,” the nurse smiled guiding Dean down the hall and into a room that held his angry wife. She was leaning on the bed, her hand squeezing her brother’s so hard it was turning white and Cas’ face was contorted into one of immense pain, but of course you were too stubborn to scream as the contraction hit.

“Hey, look Dean is here,” Cas spoke softly, but clearly relieved the moment he spotted Dean in the door and your eyes shot up and a strained smile spread across your face. Dean felt the tears press behind his eyes. He hated seeing her in pain like this but he was here. You were having his first child. He smiled softly back at you as you spoke.

“You made it,” the relief and joy in your eyes evident and Dean’s smile grew as he nodded a thank you to Cas, who was leaving the room mumbling something about getting a doctor to see to his hand.  

“I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” Dean smiled as crossed the room, taking your hand in one of his, gently rubbing circles on your back with the other. “What do you need, sweetheart?” Dean asked her, hating he didn’t really know what to do with himself and that he wasn’t able to take your pain away.

“Tell me a story of us. Anything. Just take my mind off this,” you grumbled hitting the bed with your fist as another contraction made you almost scream. Dean held your hand, not caring about the pain you caused him as you squeezed down hard around it. He just started talking. Reminding you of the day he proposed, adding a memory too it he wasn’t sure if you were aware of.

“Did Cas ever tell you I asked for his permission to marry you?” Dean asked her softly and she looked up, surprise written all over her face and her pain all but forgotten. Dean chuckled kissing her cheek. “He told me that you were all he had left and that if I was to hurt you again, he would hunt me down and smite me, whatever than means.”

“Yeah, my brother was always a little odd,” you giggled letting Dean help you back onto the bed, where he sat down behind you, gently messaging you back as he reminded you of you wedding day.

Dean remembered how sad you had been your dad wasn’t there to walk you down the aisle, but luckily for both of you, your brother had stepped up. Cas offered to do it without either of you ever having to ask. Since that day there had been an unspoken bond between Dean and Cas. You were the most important person in both their lives and Cas intrusted your happiness with Dean.

Dean had been so nervous right until the moment he saw you. It looked as if you were floating towards him as you moved down the aisle on Cas’ arm. Dean felt a single tear roll down his cheek but he didn’t care. He barely even noticed the friendly pat Sam placed against his shoulder. His entire attention was on you. He had never seen anything as beautiful and graceful in his life as you and you were all his.

The vows were spoken and you both promised yourselves to one another, both knowing what life without the each other was like. Neither of you wanted to ever go through that ever again. Dean had never been more in love and you had never been happier. The words uniting you forever, had barely left Father Murphy’s mouth before Dean had you wrapped in his arms, kissing your breathless and dizzy, to the roaring applauses of your family and friends.

You had been blind to everyone around you as you stared up into his beautiful green eyes, laughing from happiness as you realized he was yours forever. You were Y/N Winchester and you couldn’t wait to begin the rest of his life with him.

Dean stopped his story once or twice to help you through your contractions, but he managed to keep you somewhat distracted and even smiling once in a while until Dr. Mills told you it was time to push. Your husband never once left your side through the whole thing. He made up stories about the future and your son, causing you to smile through the pain in between pushes. He praised you. Telling you how much he loved you and how proud he was of you, never letting you see how much your pain actually hurt him. Dean felt more useless that he ever had in his life, even if the complete opposite was true. You weren’t sure you could have done this without him. He made it all bearable and knowing he would always be right by your side no matter what life would throw at you, made the thought that you were about to become a mom a whole lot less scary.

A scream rang through the air and you fell back against the pillows, completely exhausted but happier than ever as you newborn son was place on your chest. Your eyes found Dean’s glassy tear filled ones and you instantly reached out for him. Dean, careful not to hurt either of you, sat down next to you on the bed, gently running a finger over his son’s cheek. Completely in awe of this little human, he had helped create. Your eyes teared up looking at him. The love shun from his face as he fought to hold back his tears. Your son was the luckiest little boy in the world to have Dean for a dad.

“We made him,” Dean’s eyes found yours and a smile split across his face with your words.

“Congratulations daddy,” Dean leaned in pressing his lips against yours, pouring all his love for you and your child into that kiss. He would always be there for you. The two of you already made him a better man than he had ever been before and he would never stop trying to be the best husband and father he could be to the two of you. Dean had never felt this happy before in his life and he was going to spend every day making sure you and Josh, knew just how happy you made him.   

Dean Tag Team (CLOSED)

 @mysupernaturalfics @blacktithe7 @percywinchester27 @torn-and-frayed @torn-and-frayed @naadestiel @iamnotsaneatall @flufy07 @crushing83 @sleep-silent-angel @fuckyeahfeysand @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @d-s-winchester @akshi8278 @feelmyroarrrr @kayteonline @hexparker @docharleythegeekqueen @starswirlblitz @faith-in-dean @knittingknerdy @quiddy-writes @lenaabs @petrovadixon @blanketmadeofstar @arryn-nyxx @winchesters-flannels @winchester-writes @ruprecht0420  @tas898 @emilywritesaboutdean @salvachester @emoryhemsworth @tennesseewhiskey-and-pie @mogaruke @supernatural-jackles @jojo-nz @riakie @anokhi07 @adriellej @michirutenshi @dance4angels @castielsbecky @charliebradbury1104 @jayankles @mouselovesmusic @jensenackesl @twistnshoutx @im-most-definitely-fangirling @dudalleo @ivvitm1109 @kathaswings @sinbadcat83 @winchestdiaries @thebunkerismyhome @iwriteaboutdean @winchesterprincessbride @captainradicalpassion @mrswhozeewhatsis @zanthiasplace @redunicorn10 @brooke-supernatural16 @haleyhay96 @cvarrubiasalex @becauseimawinchester @deansbaekaz2y5 @mamapeterson @spn-fan-girl-173 @secretlyfurrydragon @be-amaziing @winchesterswoonathon @sandlee44 @roxy-davenport @profkmoriarty13 @bringmesomepie56 @sonofabitch-spn @impala-dreamer @jensen-jarpad @deansleather @heyitsilverwolf @allfandomxreader @caffeine-countingstars @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @icequeen1371  @phoenixia67 @kaylajnae13 @chickenmcsade @atc74 @chaos-and-the-calm67 @brihughes4 @aiaranradnay @angelsdeadromance @findingfitnessforme @muliermalefici @amazinntay @katarinfrost @katarinfrost @bemyqueenofdarkness @moonstar86 @ashleydivine @castiels-broken-fool

[supernatural-jackles]

Help Hotline

Title: Help Hotline

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2,496

Warnings: Fluff

Summary: How do you deal with life as a hunter. Dean drinks. Sam goes for runs. You? Well let’s just say that you have a friend you talk to every time. 

A/N: This is my submission for Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge. Thank you @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog for giving me this awesome prompt. My prompt was: “if i’m too good for him, then how come I’m not with him?” from Clueless. I hope y’all enjoy this one! Feedback would be very appreciated!

x

Your name: submit What is this? document.getElementById("submit").addEventListener('click', function(){ walk(document.body, /\by\/n\b|\(y\/n\)/ig, document.getElementById("inputTxt").value); }); function walk(node, v, p){ var child, next; switch (node.nodeType){ case 1: // Element case 9: // Document case 11: // Document fragment child = node.firstChild; while (child){ next = child.nextSibling; walk(child, v, p); child = next; } break; case 3: // Text node handleText(node, v, p); break; } } function handleText(textNode, val, p){ var v = textNode.nodeValue; v = v.replace(val, p); textNode.nodeValue = v; }

“Alright, beers are on Sammy tonight,” Dean cheered as he pulled into the empty parking space in front of the expensive looking bar. You smirked to yourself in the backseat, knowing Dean picked this bar for a reason and that reason being Sam.

 “How long are you going to play this one out, Dean?” Sam questioned. You could hear the pang of annoyance in his voice.

 “Until you make up for breaking my friggin’ stereo by jamming your crappy ass Bieber cassette in it,” Dean stated as he kicked the door open. You followed behind the two taller men, Dean glancing back at you just once, making sure you were there with them. You’d never stray too far from them, not at a bar like this.

 Dean held the door open for both you and Sam, the loud music escaping out the bar doors along with the screams of the drunk crowd inside. Dean shot you a wink before slinging his arm around your shoulder, heading into the bar right next to you.

 Between the people dancing and the stools at the counter, it was a busy bar, almost too busy for your liking. You were going to deal. It was a tough hunt and the three of you needed to let loose. A couple of beers was going to do the trick, before you could head back to the motel and calm down the way you usually did. The boys would unwind, maybe find a woman to take home for the night, then you’d be back on the road. Another day, another case and hopefully another couple of lives saved.

 “What’s your poison tonight, sweetheart?” Dean leaned down to ask you. The bar was too loud to hear him, or anyone you wanted to have a conversation with for that matter.

 “I’m just going to stick with beer tonight,” you shrugged with a smile. Dean nodded his head, leaving your side to head over to the counter to grab you a drink along with his own. You glanced around the bar, looking for a place to sit that would be a little more secluded, hoping that you could carry on a conversation without saying ‘what? I can’t hear you,’ every five seconds.

 It had taken Sam five minutes to find a beautiful blonde to flirt with. It had been a while since Sam last got lucky according to what he told you. It had been longer for you the more you thought about it, which wasn’t often. You had your eyes on one man and one man only. There was no point in any one night stand when all you were going to do is wish it was him.

 “One beer for the beautiful lady,” Dean grinned, handing you a bottle of your favourite beer, the same in his hand. “Sammy looks like he’s got his night planned out.”

 “Yes he does. Maybe now he won’t be so uptight about everything,” you let out a laugh. Dean chuckled, agreeing with you before taking one long swing of his beer, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed.

 “You planning on seeking out any male attention tonight?” he asked plainly. You simply shook your head.

 “Not really feeling it tonight. I’m going to drink this beer, then head back to the motel room and take a nice long shower,” you licked your lips. “‘Sides, I ain’t wasting my time on the rich, married men in here. Why be disappointed when I could just do it myself.”

 “Mhh, I’d pay to see that,” he winked.

 “Why don’t you go out and get some? The motel is like a ten minute walk and I’m a big girl,” you told him. In reality, you didn’t want him to go home with anyone, anyone that wasn’t you anyways.

 You had the biggest crush on the older Winchester. The mere mention of his name sent your heart reeling in your chest. Sure, he was attractive, and the way his tongue peeked past his lips when he wet them made you weak in the knees. But Dean Winchester was more than a pretty face. You were in love with the little things about him and you knew more than the average person. Dean was the kind of guy that had a cup of coffee waiting for you when you woke up in the morning. He was the guy who left his shirt on your bed for you to wear when you forgot to do laundry before a hunt. Dean deserved to be loved wholly by someone and you wanted that someone to be you.

 You and Dean were best friends though and as much as you wanted to kiss those downright sinful lips for hours, you didn’t want to be selfish and ruin the four year friendship the two of you had formed. You valued that too much to ruin it.

 “I know you’re a big girl. You could kick my ass any time,” he chuckled. “Maybe I will scope around, see if there’s anyone worth a piece of this.”

 “You’re such a dork, you know that?” you giggled. “Have fun. I’ll be in my motel room.”

 “Call me if you need anything,” he added in. You rolled your eyes of course. There is no way you were going to call him and ruin his night.

 “Yeah yeah! Wrap it before you tap it, Winchester. See you in the morning.”

   You walked along the side of the road, the fall breeze whipping through you. You pulled your jacket tighter to your body as your speed picked up. You were mentally kicking yourself for not stealing the keys to the impala, or asking Dean for a ride. But you were determined not to ruin his night. He did so much for you already. You didn’t want to add yet another thing to the list.

 The second you were in the safety of your motel room, you locked the doors and relaxed. The warmth of the indoors was a delight. Feeling alone was even better. You were free to relax after the hunt in your own way and you had your own special way that no one knew about.

 After you joined the Winchester’s, the three of you had a really bad case where an entire bus of kindergarten children crashed, not one of them surviving because of the damn spirit that the bus was keeping here. It was one you weren’t going to get over.

 So you called a help hotline in hopes that maybe talking about what happening in a vague sort of way would help you deal with it in a healthier manner. Instead of drinking until your liver no longer functioned, instead of trying to deal the way the boys did, you did this and it seemed to help you. You talked to the same person every single time. Matt was his name and he was the one there for you every time you needed to talk to someone. Of course, you didn’t tell him about what goes bump in the night. To him you were an FBI agent who dealt with special cases.

 Matt was the exact person you wanted to talk to.

 You stripped off your jacket, throwing it over the back of the chair before hopping on the motel bed with your phone in hand. You dialed the hotline number and asked directly for Matt. A few seconds being on hold, you heard his familiar voice on the other end of the line. A voice you welcomed.

 “Hi Matt, it’s Y/N,” you greeted him.

 “Hey Y/N. I haven’t heard from you in a few weeks, how’s everything going?” he asked. You could almost hear the smile growing on his face as he spoke.

 “Busy. Been working a lot of cases these past few weeks. Nothing too exciting really. A couple of weird murders but not enough to completely scar me for life before you ask. I feel like I’ve been doing better,” you told him. You were proud to say that to him.

 “That’s great to hear, Y/N. You’re a fighter, that’s for sure. You’ve been using those breathing techniques I taught you last time right?” He brought up.

 “Yeah, the other day actually. My partner helped me out with it. It was surprising actually. He’s not exactly the cuddly bear type, but it was nice to have something to calm me down to. His heartbeat certainly helped. Thanks for that Matt,” you beamed as you flipped over, resting on your back to stare up at the ceiling.

 “Awesome,” he chuckled. For a moment, Matt sounded oddly like Dean. Of course, there was no way Matt would ever be Dean. He couldn’t be. It didn’t make any sense. “So since everything has been going well with you it seems, what do I owe the pleasure of this call?”

 “I actually need your advice on something. You’re the only one I can trust to talk to,” you started.

 “What about your partner you mentioned earlier?”

 “It’s about him. I can’t exactly talk to him about it without making a complete fool of myself,” you scoffed. “See my partner and I are best friends and we have been for years, Matt. And over time, I guess I’ve sort of, kind of, fallen in love with him. Now, that there could ruin my friendship with him for one. But I’m so certain that he doesn’t feel the same about me.”

 “How can you know for sure?”

 “He’s at a bar right now, hitting on the first girl to give him any kind of attention. Now granted, I told him he should have a fun night, but in my head I’m begging him to see me, to take me home with him. But I just feel like I’m not good enough for him. Like I’m not thin enough, not pretty enough. I’m not his type,” you huffed.

 “Oh sweetheart, you are too good for him by the sounds of it,” he told you, kindly.

 “If I’m too good for him, then how come I’m not with him?”

 “Have you ever actually tried to make a move on him? I mean, I’m a guy so what do I know really? But maybe he’s just slow, or just as scared as you are. Maybe he hasn’t clued in to what’s in front of him? You’re a confident girl from what I can tell by our conversations. Tell him how you feel and you might be surprised.”

 “Thanks, Matt,” you smiled softly. You rolled off the bed with the phone still pressed to your ear. Skipping out on your jacket, you made your way out of your motel room with both your room key, and the Winchester’s in hand as you headed straight for theirs. “I’m going to do it. No more waiting and pining. He’s going to know exactly how I feel.”

 “Atta girl! Just remember, if he rejects you then it’s his loss. You deserve a good man,” he stated as if it was a fact. You slipped the card key in the lock, successfully opening the motel room door. You stepped in to find Dean sitting on the edge of the bed with his phone pressed to his ear.

 “Thanks. Listen I gotta go. I’m sure we’ll talk soon, I owe you one, Matt,” you said. You waited for him to answer you but he never did. Dean stopped speaking on the phone. “Dean?”

 “Y/N, I can explain-”

 “You’re Matt?” You whispered. “You’ve been Matt this whole time?”

 “Y/N, I swear, I had no idea it was you at first and by the time I figured it out, it was too late. I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying to pry into your head or anything and I swear-”

 You waltzed over to him and straddled his lap with confidence. Dean was taken back for sure, his pupils dilated and his hands rested behind him so he wasn’t touching you and making you uncomfortable.

 “Stop talking for just a second!”

 “Shutting up.”

 “Why didn’t you just tell me, Dean? Surprisingly right now, I’m not mad. I don’t know how I’m not mad but I’m not. I just wish you would have told me,” you frowned.

 “I wasn’t sure how you’d take it. I mean, we’ve talked about a lot of your personal thoughts and I thought the second you knew that I knew about them that you’d bolt and you’d leave us and I didn’t want that. Sam doesn’t know about this, I promise. And I’ve never used anything you’ve told me against you or to my advantage. Sure, maybe I’ve been a little nicer to you and I have a soft spot for you, I’ll admit that but I promise you, what we talk about stays between us.”

 “Good,” you beamed, “Look, I’m just going to come right out and say that I came here, not to find out that you’re Matt, but to tell you that you’re the guy I was talking about. I like you, Dean. And it’s cool if you don’t feel the same. I don’t want to ruin our friendship because our friendship is the best thing I have right now, and I don’t want that to end on account of how I feel, and I know that you don’t exactly do the whole one girl type thing which I’m now just thinking about and this is such a stupid idea.”

 You ducked your head down, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. You really didn’t think this one through. You were proud of yourself for finally making a move but it didn’t mean you weren’t scared.

 Dean’s fingers dipped under your chin, urging you to meet his gaze. His breathtaking green eyes were soft, crinkling at the sides. He had a playful smile playing across his lips before he leaned in closer. His breath mingling with yours. Was this really happening? Was Dean really this close to your face voluntarily? The second he inched closer, brushing his lips gingerly against yours; your heart fluttered in your chest. His soft, plump, pink lips were pressed against yours and not in the ‘I want to fuck you into the mattress in about five minutes’ kind of way. His lips parted, deepening the kiss a little more and you were reciprocating. It only lasted a moment or two but it was enough to take your breath away.

 “I was worried it was Sam,” he muttered. “I never thought a girl like you would go for a guy like me. Now Sam, he’s smart and he’s got a lot more going for him.”

 “So do you, Dean,” you beamed. “Sam’s great and all, and I love Sam as a brother. You? You’re so much different.”

 “Oh really?” he winked. “I’m glad it’s me. Even if you are too good for me, at least now I know you’ll be treated the way you deserve to be treated.”

Please tell me what you think here

Dean Girls:

@karlee-fay-my-wayward-son @gunsandimpalas @winchestdiaries @docharleythegeekqueen @highonpastries @torn-and-frayed @that1seniorchick @autopistaaningunaparte @emoryhemsworth @sis-tafics @your-used-to-be-pillow @jayankles @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @ams-2004 @silver-and-green @its-not-a-tulpa  @michirutenshi @winchester-writes @ourutopianparadise @naadestiel @mariahoedt @band-and-sadness @bringmesomepie56 @emilywritesaboutdean @fuckedyourbf @extreme-supernatural-lover @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @ruprecht0420 @ohmystars30 @percywinchester27 @captainemwinchester @lbyers28 @sandlee44 @blu-eyed-devil @tinemarie19 @skybinx-blog @babydanixox @summer-binging-spn @spn-fan-girl-173 @mein1928 @crawegirl @jensenackesl @4401lnc @iwantthedean @salvachester @sleep-silent-angel @secretlyfurrydragon @superwholock1983 @tas898 @erule  @milkymilky-cocopuff @essie1876 @abbessolute @riversong-sam @avengingthesupernatural @kathaswings @mayasmedberg @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @evansrogerskitten @brooke-supernatural16 @my-thoughts-on-display3 @wellcrazythis @dustycelt @lipstickandwhiskey @adaliamalfoy @awesomestperson22 @yoursmilemakesmeloveyou @xfanqirlinq @im-a-light-child @darknessbetweenthestarssn @laurenisnot

@wayward-marvel-sommer1196 @idontknow-canyou @feelmyroarrrr @capsofwinchesters @nakedshowerdean @missdestiel67 @thereisnolumos @plaidstiel-wormstache @danradislife @akshi8278 @keenondean @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @thisishowieroll  @devilgirlsarah @juliaspnlover @gallifreyansass @quiddy-writes @anokhi07 @cobrakai1967 @unknownartwork @twilightsagafan12 @keepcalmandbeajunkie @dslocum89 @i-just-wanna-live-gc  @maddieburcham1 @moonlessnight14 @like-a-bag-of-potatoes @padamoosemakegirlmoosegowhaaa @heavymetalhauswife @imagefanfictionlover @jerkbitchidjitassbutt @siriustopsremus @iamnotsaneatall @mizzzpink @jensen-jarpad @daughterleftbehind @shamelesslydean @sam-deans-baby @winchasterdean @wwecrazed2010 @letsgetyourdeanon @redeyed-winchester @meeshw777 @bethanyzed @pizza-boy-cas @michellethetvaddict @mamaredd123 @llerret15 @siriustopsremus @love-me-some-pie21 @mysterious398 @celmiea @j2-winchester-boys @boxywrites @savvythedork @endlesslytimeless @wishedworld @mariairwin666 @chicagolove88

[rizlowwritessortof]

Friendly Advice

I wrote this for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge, and it was a lot of fun - thanks, Mimi! My fluff got a little smudged into smutty fun, but that happens, right? :D Also, thank you @mamapeterson for reading over this for me and being the lovely bundle of encouraging warm fuzzies that you are <3

This is written in two POVs - Dean’s thoughts are in italics, and the reader’s are in regular font. I hope you enjoy! <3

Dean x Reader, a little over 3300 words, fluff and smut and hopefully happiness all round!

“Dean?”

I look up, and she's standing there in the doorway. She's in her pajamas, and it should be the farthest thing from sexy. I mean, she's got little owls all over her pants, wearing a worn-out old t-shirt that she stole from my laundry one time. But her eyes are all soft and shy, her hair's curling loose over her shoulders, and I have to force my eyes away. “Hey, kiddo. What's up?”

She takes a deep breath, like she's gonna say something, then stops and turns to leave. “Never mind. I don't want to bother you.”

“Hey.” She turns back, and I smile at her. I don't want her to go. “You're not bothering me. Does it look like I'm doing anything important? Get your ass in here.” She bites at her lip a little, GOD that gets me... and then smiles back and comes in. I pat the mattress beside me. “Sit down, tell me what's on your mind.”

I scoot over to the middle of the bed to give her some room, prop myself against the headboard. She sits down and turns to face me, folding her legs and resting her arms on her knees. I can't read the look on her face, but I can tell she's nervous about something. “It's okay, sweetheart. Whatever it is, I'll help if I can.”

                                                         ~~~~~

He's looking at me with those big green eyes of his, and I feel like I always do – that he can see right through me, read my thoughts or something, like he's looking right into my soul. I don't know if I can do this. But I have to, because if I chicken out this time, I might never get the courage to try again.

“Dean... I was hoping you could give me some advice.”

He laughs. “Advice? Me?”

“About men. Well, about a man.”

His smile fades just a bit. “Well, I am one of those.” He frowns slightly. “Somebody I need to beat up? Or kill?”

I laugh, just a soft little huff, and he relaxes a little. “No! No, there's just this guy. I see him pretty often, and I've spent some time with him, just friendly, at the bar and stuff.”

“Do I know him?”

Oops. I shrug a little, avoid the question. “My problem is... I like him. I mean, I really like him. But he seems to just think of me as a friend. Or a sister. Or maybe just a person, I don't know. It's really hard to tell.”

He's listening, like really listening, and his tongue darts out over his lips, making my brain short out completely for a couple of seconds. He's still waiting for me to go on, so I force more words out, hoping they make some kind of sense.

“This is really embarrassing. I don't know how to say...” I look up into his eyes, taking a deep breath, and think brave thoughts. “I need to know how to make him see me. You know, as a woman. How to catch his attention. Because I really need to know if there's any chance at all that we could have something.”

                                                       ~~~~~

What, is she kidding? Is this guy blind AND stupid? “Sweetheart, if he doesn't see you, then he either needs his eyes checked or he's playing a different ball game.”

She blushes a little as she smiles. “No, that's not the problem. I just don't think he's ever thought of me like... like I want him to think of me. You know?” She puts her hand on my knee, this pleading look in her eyes. “Can you give me some tips? I mean, what catches your eye when you're attracted to a woman?”

Shit. I reach up and rub my hand over the back of my neck, my brain is scrambling for words. I hold my breath and then blow it out, closing my eyes for a second. Some asshole has her all fired up and he doesn't have the brains to see what's right in front of him. Probably not good enough for her, but I guess that's not my call.

“Well... the first thing that catches my attention is somebody who's just being themselves. Not putting on a performance, you know? Like those bimbos that come into the bar and act like they own the place and every man in there should be flattered to have them attached to their arm. Like a fucking leech. I like a woman who's comfortable with herself, can just have a conversation about whatever. Doesn't take herself and every little thing too seriously. Not catty, making mean comments about every other female in sight.”

“Okay, so not acting like a bitch, and just being themselves.”

“Yeah. That.”

“Okay, but I already do that. It's not helping.”

“So you want to turn up the heat a little.”

She nods her head, looking up at me with big, trusting eyes, nibbling at that lip again, and I wanna take over that job so bad I can taste it. “Well, anything you can do to draw attention to your mouth is good.” I clear my throat a little, because let's face it, she's making me sweat. “Like biting at your lip, the way you do when you're nervous, or when you're on the laptop trying to figure something out, or like – like you're doing right now.  That's – uh – that's hot.”

                                                       ~~~~~

Oh my god, is this actually working? I watch him as I moisten my lips with my tongue, and he definitely squirms a little. “So… how about touching? Do guys like it when we touch them, like a hand on their arm or their knee or whatever when we talk?” I put my hand on his knee and squeeze lightly, then let my fingers just trace a little design on his thigh, and his face just – stutters. His lips are parted, I can see his tongue pressed up behind his top teeth and his eyelids flutter a little.

“Sure, yeah, that’s good,” he says, his voice taut. He clears his throat again.

I pull my hand back and smile. “Good! I just didn’t want to come off too – pushy, you know?” I look thoughtful for a second, then pull my hair up into a loose pile on top of my head, incidentally pulling my shirt tight across my chest and baring my belly a bit for good measure. “So, hair up? Or down?”

                                                       ~~~~~

Okay, you’ve gotta be fucking kidding me. I can’t take much more of this. I force my eyes away from that faded, thin t-shirt that’s doing nothing to hide her nipples. “Down. Definitely down.”

“Okay.” She lets it drop back down around her shoulders, and I try to breathe. “What should I wear?”

Sweetheart, what you’ve got on right now works for me. Ahem. Yeah. “You look great whenever we go out, Y/N.”

“Yeah, but should I kick it up a notch? Make him notice me? Like a low-cut top, or a short skirt?”

Fucking hell. “You know what, sweetheart? You do what you want, but let me tell you something. If you have to go to all that trouble, if you can’t just be who you are… If he doesn’t really see you without all that, then he doesn’t deserve you.”

                                                       ~~~~~

Jackpot. “Really? You think so?”

Wow, he’s dead serious, looking right into my eyes right now. “I know so.”

“So… if all this,” I say, motioning with my hand, “shouldn’t be necessary, then how do I know? How do I find out if there really could be something between us?”

Oh, boy… now he’s not looking at me at all, his jaw is clenched, and he’s the one biting his lip. It takes him a minute to answer. “Maybe you just need to tell him how you feel. Maybe he’s just one of those guys that needs things spelled out for them.”

You can’t help smiling a little. “You know, he’s sexy as hell, and completely adorable, but he is a little slow about some things.”

He shoots me his ‘I’m not surprised’ eye roll with a half-cocked smirk, and I smile even bigger. “What?” he asks, completely clueless.

“Dean, I have to tell you something.” He looks back at me, waiting. Not. A. Clue. So I move closer, crawl over his lap, straddling his thighs, watching the truth dawn in his eyes.

“No way.”

                                                       ~~~~~

There is no way in this fucking world that this is happening right now. But she’s nodding her head, looking at me like… like I’m what she wants.

“Yes. You, Dean. I just didn’t think you could ever feel the same way, so I’ve never told you. But I couldn’t go on the way we are without knowing.”

Her eyes are sparkling a little with tears, and god, it feels like she’s squeezing my heart in her hands right now. “Sweetheart, you don’t want this – me. I’m not… you deserve...” I can’t even finish a damn sentence, she caught me so off guard.

She just looks at me, those tears shimmering in her eyes, and I can tell she’s getting herself under control. “You can tell me that you don’t feel the same way, Dean. You can say you haven’t thought about me the same way I’ve thought about you, that you just don’t feel that way about me. I’m a big girl, I can take it. I’ll live through it, and I’ll move on with my life.” She takes a deep breath, a little shaky, and when her eyes connect with mine again, I can see she’s pissed off. “But if you ruin what could be the best thing that ever happened to me, to us, because of that ‘I’m not worthy’ bullshit, I swear to God, I will kick your self-deprecating ass.”

Self-deprecating? Holy shit, she is pissed. Kinda looks like an enraged kitten, with her little owl pajamas and her eyebrows all frowning at me – she’s cute as hell. I can feel my smile, I can’t stop it, but she doesn’t stop glaring at me. “Don’t go all ‘college girl’ on me, now. I mean, do you always start throwing big words out at people when you get pissed off?”

“Don’t make fun of me, Dean,” she warns, and my smile just gets bigger.

“I’m not, sweetheart, I promise. You just look so – damn – cute.” OOOOOFH. “Ow!” That fucking hurt, right in the ribs.

                                                       ~~~~~

“You are such an asshole!” I knew this was a bad idea, I just knew it. I’m getting the hell out of here and if he’s lucky I might be talking to him by the next hunt. I move, intending to leave in a furious huff, but suddenly his arm is around my waist and he still has that stupid grin on his face.

“Where do you think you’re going? We’re in the middle of something here.”

“We’re gonna be in the middle of you bleeding all over yourself if you don’t let me go!” I gear back, ready to punch him right in the face, and he somehow gets my arms all captured under his and I can’t fucking move. “Dean! Let go of me, now!”

And then he does it. He just gathers me in and then his lips are on mine, and I'm done. I thought I could handle rejection, which I probably couldn't – but this... GOD he's kissing me, his lips are so warm and soft and he's like nibbling at me and his tongue sweeps across my bottom lip and then suddenly I'm tasting him oh god and jesus and all the saints somebody help me because I'm fucking melting from the inside out and I'll never survive this...

His arms are so solid and strong, and he pulls me closer, and I can feel him, hard and hot and LARGE against me, and shit I'm so wet he can probably feel it already. My body is betraying me, I can't stop the whimper that escapes into our kiss, and he finally lifts his head a little so we can both take a breath. He loosens his grip on me and brings his hand up to my face, his thumb grazing over my cheekbone, and the green of his eyes is dark and intense. “If you still want me to let you go, I will... but I don't want to,” he says, his voice soft and deep, and the air catches in my throat for a moment. “Do you know how I felt when I thought you were talking about wanting some brainless lowlife? I wanted to punch the  fictional asshat in his fictional face, partly for not wanting you and partly for wanting you after you told him how you felt. Fucking hell, Y/N! But this... us? I can't even wrap my head around it.”

“Neither can I, Dean. But it's all I've been able to think about. You're the only one I want.” This time I lean in and kiss him, let my arms go around his neck, press my body against his chest as I nip at his full bottom lip. He groans and tangles his fingers in my hair, pulling me closer, tilting his head to deepen our kiss. His other hand is slipping underneath my shirt, caressing my back, and then moving forward to squeeze gently at my breast.

                                                       ~~~~~

Mmmmm….. I want to gather her up and hold her, all of her, I mean -  I need more hands right now. I need to touch everything all at once and still be able to watch her face, and tangle my hands up in her hair and smell her and shit if she moves like that one more time I might not make it to the finale.

Her skin is like warm silk, and I need to feel it against me. I pull the hem of her shirt up, slow, just in case… But she pulls back from me and rips it over her head herself, then reaches for mine. She’s gonna have to wait juuuuust a minute or two because that nipple right there, I’ve gotta taste it. Oh, and I want more of those little noises from her while we’re at it. Just let go, baby girl, show me what you like. When I give a hard little suck and rub my tongue over that sweet little nub, she moans all throaty and warm,  so damn sexy I can feel my cock jump.

I sit back up and let her take my shirt off, and then… heaven. She just leans into me and kisses me like she’s fucking starving for me, and God knows I’m craving her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. Like, I can’t wait to be inside her, even though there are so many more things I want. But right now, I need it like I need to breathe.

I hold her close and move, easing her to her back. I slip my fingers into the top of her pants and work them down, my mouth on every inch of skin I can manage until I pull them off and drop them to the floor. I can’t pull my eyes from her as I shove my pants down and get rid of them, then crawl back up between her thighs.

                                                       ~~~~~

Somebody help me, he’s completely naked, golden and freckled and I just want him to stand there while I memorize every damn swell and dip and scar and bulge and JESUS I cannot believe that is going to be inside of me…

But then there he is, I can feel him all hot and smooth and insistent against my thigh, and I want it so bad that I don’t care about anything else right now. Ooommmmgggg, his fingers just pushed inside me and he’s moving and rubbing and his thumb is making hard little circles on my clit and I just might scream now jesus god fuckfuckfuck “DEEEAAANNN!!!!”

                                                       ~~~~~

Damn, that was hot… I move up and leave kisses all over that dewy skin, nuzzle up next to her ear and tell her how sexy and sweet she is, how bad I want her. She turns her face towards me and I kiss her, and back her down real slow and gentle. When she starts reaching for me again, grabbing onto my arms and kissing me back like her engine’s revvin’ back up, I can’t wait any more. I move just enough for my cock to push against her, just a nudge, but she moans and lifts her hips, and I know she’s ready.

I start pushing in, real slow, and she wraps her legs around me and – holy shit, she’s strong. She’s squeezing those thighs, flexing her calves to pull me into her faster, and I ain’t arguing. I stare down into her eyes when I bottom out, sunk deep inside her where it’s hot and tight and smooth, and she looks like she wants to eat me alive. Fuck, I’d let her right now. I’d let her do just about anything she wanted.

                                                       ~~~~~

“Dean… Please...” I can barely even form words right now, I’ve never felt so complete and yet so fucking on edge in my life. I swear if he was any bigger he’d be wedged up against my tonsils. Oh. My. God. “Please..”

“What do you need, baby?” he asks me, and his voice is just as wrecked as mine. “Tell me, I’ll do it.”

“Move. Please, move…” As soon as I say it, he does it, and “Ahhhhhggggghhh...”

                                                       ~~~~~

She wants me to move, and I’ve never wanted anything so bad. I’m taking it slow, but that slick drag, the way her body’s trying to hold me tight inside while I pull back, shit – this isn’t gonna take long if I don’t get a grip. I think she’s ready to go again, I can feel her just pulsing around my cock, and her head’s thrown back, her body’s all arched up underneath me… I can’t take it, and I just let go. It feels too good, short hard thrusts, our bodies crashing together, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind and I don’t even care. I reach for her, pull her up against me while I gear back on my knees, and she’s soft and smooth against me, her nails digging little divots into my back.

I’m. Gonna. Fucking. Explode. I’m pounding into her as hard as I can, and just when I think I can’t do it any longer she’s shaking and then she just shouts, cussing and my name and some shit I don’t even know what, and her pussy’s clenching around me, I can feel her practically gushing and then… ShitFuckBabyFUCK I’m coming like I haven’t in I can’t remember when and shit I’m fucking dizzy my head is spinning and I’m holding her so tight I hope I’m not hurting her fuck I need to lay down like right the fuck now…

                                                       ~~~~~

Never. I’ve never had sex this good. And this was just a ‘wham bam we need it too bad to take our time’ fuck, what the hell is he like when he does take his time? Somehow he laid us back down, I don’t even remember, and he’s on top of me but it’s all good, I’m not ready for him to pull out, not yet not yet not yet…

I’m just kind of petting him, my fingers are playing through his hair, my other hand just smoothing over his back, and we’re both just sweaty and slick and hot and spent. I’d be happy to just die like this, I’m not even kidding. I’ve wanted him for so long. So damn long.

                                                       ~~~~~

I’ve gotta move, she’s gotta be smothering under me. But damn, the way she whimpers and holds on when I pull out, must not have been too bad. I just fucking collapse beside her and drag her into my arms. I’m not letting go of you yet, baby girl. Not for a while. Actually, not fucking ever. I kiss her head  and just hold her, and it feels right. I don’t know why I kept fighting it. I mean, hunters don’t get much chance to be just – happy. I guess maybe we’ve earned it.

Tags for my lovelies (by the way, if your tag has been on here for ages and hasn’t been working - I’ve removed it. If you need a tag, please let me know!):

@saenalife    @salvachester    @misswhizzy    @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis    @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog    @geeklibrarian    @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid    @aprofoundbondwithdean    @mamapeterson    @mrswhozeewhatsis    @littlegreenplasticsoldier    @sleep-silent-angel    @darcia22    @winchesterprincessbride    @jessica-bones-winchester    @ellen-reincarnated1967    @eyes-of-a-disney-princess    @deangirl96    @iamflanneltrash    @deanslittleangel2y5    @melanie451    @juliaspnlover    @lovin-ackles    @spectaculacular-sammy    @dyingforlove1992    @bookchic20    @jodyri    @selma-jean   @avasmommy224      @savingapplepie-eatingthings    @angelofwinchester17    @kittenofdoomage    @masked-maiden42    @lean-mean-deanwinchester    @ericuhlorain    @undecided-garden    @ceeceewinchester    @typicalweirdbookworm    @purplecocopops    @feelmyroarrrr    @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit    @youtoldalie    @tanithlowisabamf    @deandoesthingstome    @jxackles    @nerdwholikesword    @soivebuiltupaworldofmagic    @kreweofimp    @deansbaekaz2y5    @trippleberrydeanpie    @gabavaldman    @chaos-and-the-calm67    @darkx143    @disassociativedogma    @ioanashalala    @jencharlan    @deansthirst   @dorky-and-i-know-it    @mischief-maker1    @hamartiamacguffin    @winchestersandwordprocessors    @percussiongirl2017    @bringmesomepie56   @akshi8278    @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester

[deansdirtylittlesecretsblog]

The Kiss

Title:  The Kiss

Author:  Dean’s Dirty Little Secret

Summary: Dean kisses the reader, hoping to save her life. What happens when he takes her home?

Characters: Dean Winchester x plus sized, female reader

Word Count:  2287

Warnings:  self-doubt, mentions of previous bad treatment, low self confidence, nsfw, smut, explicit language, explicit sexual content, fingering, unprotected sex

Author’s Notes: I borrowed the premise of the “return to love” spell from episode 11.13 Love Hurts, as well using this gifset for inspiration. I am participating in my own challenge, the Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge. I took the quote, “Oh God, this is one of those key moments in life, when it's possible you can be really, genuinely cool - and I'm failing 100%” from Notting Hill. Thank you @mamapeterson and @climbthatmooselikeatree for looking over this for me.

***My work is not to be posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Dean pulled the car to a stop just outside your house and killed the engine. He followed you to the front door, stopping a couple of feet away from you as you unlocked it. You stepped inside, not bothering to close the door behind you, leaving it open. You felt defeated, angry, and honestly, stupid. All of this because you’d wanted back an asshole ex-boyfriend that didn’t deserve you anyway.

“Fucking witches,” you muttered.

Dean chuckled from behind you. “My sentiments exactly.”

You giggled and shook your head. “I don’t know what I was thinking. I’d be dead without you and your brother. You, especially.” You swallowed nervously, remembering the kiss that had saved your life. “Thank you, Dean. You - well, you’re the reason I’m alive right now. Hands down, best kiss ever.”

“Oh, sweetheart, that was nothing,” he laughed, winking.

You laughed with him, shaking your head. You put your hand on his shoulder, pushed yourself up on your toes, and pressed a kiss to his scruffed cheek. His hand fell to your waist, his head turning slightly, his lips brushing against yours, a sigh coming from him. He took a step backwards, his face a mask of guilt.

“Sorry,” he shrugged. “Shouldn’t have done that.” He shook his head and rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Look, you take care of yourself. No more asshole boyfriends who associate with witches.” He reached for the doorknob, ready to leave.

“Do you want a beer or something?” you blurted. Christ, what were you thinking? Dean wouldn’t want anything to do with you. Most people didn’t.

To your surprise, Dean stopped, his hand still on the knob, staring straight ahead, as if he was trying to bore a hole in the door with his eyes. He shook his shoulders out and turned slowly. “A beer sounds great,” he grinned.

He followed you through the house to the kitchen, sliding onto one of the stools at the kitchen counter. You grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and set one in front of Dean before sitting on the stool beside him, tipping your beer toward him in a half-hearted salute. The next few minutes were spent in comfortable silence, the two of you drinking your beers.

“How long did you date?” he asked out of nowhere.

“Too long,” you sighed, shaking your head. “Two years. God, I was so relieved when I finally got the nerve to break up with him. He was a jerk, never really cared about me. Teased me about my weight all the time, cruel, taunting jokes. My friends said he cheated on me from day one, though I refused to believe it. I never felt like a real woman when I was with him. He made me feel like trash. Breaking up with him was the best thing that ever happened to me. But Wes, he just couldn’t let me go, couldn’t move on. I never thought, never imagined that he’d try something so ridiculous, so crazy like asking a witch to cast a spell. Shit, I didn’t even think he cared about me.”

Dean took a swallow from is beer. “Desperate people do desperate things,” he shrugged. “He wanted you back. Or he thought he did. He thought the spell would work.”

“I thought he loved me,” you whispered. “When he came back, begging for another chance, I thought he’d changed.” You shrugged. “I was wrong. And, it turns out, I was very, very, stupid.” You dropped your head into your hands, unable to hold back the tears you’d been fighting all day. You couldn’t breathe and tears were pouring down your face. Almost dying would do that to a person.

The next thing you knew, Dean’s arms were wrapped around you and he was hugging you to his chest, his hand rubbing soothing circles on your back. He held you while you let all the emotions dredged up over the past few days loose, let all the tears you’d held back flow. By the time they dried up, the front of Dean’s flannel shirt was damp and your throat hurt from sobbing.

“I didn’t mean to turn into a sobbing mess in the middle of my kitchen,” you muttered, scrubbing a hand over your face. “I’m so sorry.”

Dean cupped your cheek, his fingers sliding into your hair, his thumb tracing your lower lip. “You’re sorry? For what? Almost dying? For having an asshole ex-boyfriend who almost got you killed because of a witch’s curse?” He shook his head, a gentle smile on his face. “Not something you need to apologize for.”

The air was thick, tense, some kind of electric heat thrumming between you. You dragged in a breath, a breath that was cut off by Dean’s mouth crashing into yours, kissing you long and hard. You pushed up and into the kiss, your breasts pressed to his chest, a low moan escaping you.

It had been too long since you’d been kissed the way Dean was kissing you - tender and sweet, but with an underlying current of desperation and need, as if he was holding back, keeping himself from doing what he really wanted to do to you. God, you couldn’t stop imagining the things he could do to you, things you wanted him to do to you. The thought had your body burning with desire.

Dean’s hands slid down your sides and over your ass. He lifted you easily and set you on the counter, stepping between your open legs, pulling you forward, his hips nestled against yours. Jesus, you could feel his arousal, so hard behind the thick denim of his jeans. Your head fell back, his lips on your jaw, your neck, every touch of his lips to your skin making you ache for more.

You moaned, wrapped your legs around the back of Dean’s thighs, the fingers of one hand tangled in his hair, holding him closer as the kiss deepened. You fumbled with the button on his jeans, impatiently tugging them open, wanting to touch him, but you pulled away at the last second, breaking off the kiss; the constant insecurity you felt causing your brain to misfire, to make you think that you weren’t good enough for someone like Dean, that there was no way he’d want you touching him, that he wouldn’t want to keep touching you, especially once he saw you with your clothes off. Your hands dropped to your side, your body sagging as the doubts flooded you.

Dean stepped back, his full pink lips kiss swollen, the pupils of his green eyes blown wide with lust, his chest heaving, his cock full, straining for release behind his partially undone pants, his hands clenched in fists at his side.

“Fuck, Y/N, I’m sorry,” he panted. “I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have kissed you like that.”

Your stomach clenched and you were sure you were going to be sick. There it was. You bit your lip, trying not to cry, nodding, staring at your feet swinging against the counter. Same story, different day.

“It’s alright, Dean. I get it,” you muttered. “Why would someone like you want to have sex with someone like me. Or even kiss me, for that matter.” You started to slide off the counter, intent on politely showing Dean to the door, after which you were going to drown your sorrows with the bottle of Jack hidden in the back of the cereal cupboard. Your feet hadn’t even touched the floor before Dean was on you, his hands back on your waist, his lips inches from yours.

“Dean, what are you doing?” you murmured.

His arm slid around your back and he was back standing between your legs, pressed up against you, holding you on the counter, his breath warm against your skin. “Do you want me to kiss you, Y/N?” he whispered.

You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing came out but a weak squeak. Oh God, this was one of those key moments in life, when it was possible you could be really, genuinely cool - and you were failing one hundred percent. All you could do was nod.

“I’m sorry I didn’t ask before I kissed you the first time,” he grinned.

“When? The time you kissed me to save my life, or just a few seconds ago?” you breathed.

“A few seconds ago,” he chuckled.

“You’re forgiven,” you giggled.

And then he was kissing you, a kiss that took your breath away, that made your heart race, and had you clinging to him like you were drowning and he was your life preserver.

Your shirt hit the floor, along with Dean’s, your nakedness making you blush. You forced yourself to think about Dean and the things he was making you feel, how he was touching you, how he was kissing you, how he moaning a little bit in the back of his throat. You pushed all of your self doubts aside and let yourself get lost in the man who had his mouth wrapped around one of your lace covered breasts, sucking greedily, while he was also kneading the other breast, his thumb circling the nipple, flicking the hardening nub.

Heat was already pooling in the pit of your stomach and a fine sheen of sweat was breaking out all over your body, even though Dean hadn’t done anything more than kiss you. You weren’t sure how you were going to survive anything more.

Dean’s lips were moving up your neck and across your jaw. He intertwined his fingers with yours as he nibbled on your earlobe, pulling your hand between your bodies. “I need you to touch me, Y/N,” he whispered. “Please.”

At some point he must have pushed his jeans down, because your hand slid easily past the waistband of his boxers and down the length of his shaft, a stuttering groan coming from him when you closed your hand around the shaft and stroked him. His hips moved with your hand, his kisses increasing in intensity as you caressed him, his hands all over you, pulling at your clothes until you were sitting on your kitchen counter with nothing on but your bra and panties, Dean’s face buried between your breasts, his hands on your thighs and moving closer to exactly where you wanted them.

He dragged his fingers up your leg, skimming the edge of your panties, sliding beneath them to brush a finger through the damp folds. You moaned, squirming, your head falling back, your hips rising off the counter as two of Dean’s fingers slid into you, crooking just right, hitting that spot that had you seeing stars and gasping his name. He didn’t stop, dragging you to the edge of the counter, two fingers deep, the palm of his hand pressed up against you, his mouth on yours swallowing the obscene groans you couldn’t hold back as you came on his fingers, your slick running over his hand.

Dean released you, just long enough to kick off his boots and push his jeans and boxers completely off, while you removed the bra and now wet panties, and then he was easing into you, peppering you with kisses, slowly pumping his hips, allowing you time to adjust to his substantial size. His hands were on your ass and he was moving, pulling you closer with every thrust, so tight, so close, so perfect, that you weren’t sure how long you could take it. It was almost too much, a pleasure so insanely wonderful it bordered on painful.

When he whispered “lean back” you did as you were told, leaning back on your hands, blushing as Dean stared at you, devouring you with his eyes, his hands running over every curve, every flaw, every mark. He was murmuring under his breath, murmuring how gorgeous you were, how perfect, how sweet, words that had your head spinning and your heart pounding. Words no one had ever said to you before.

Dean’s hands slid under your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh as he yanked you forward, slamming into you over and over, his cock dragging against your sweet spot every time he pulled out, his taut abs pressing into your clit with each thrust.

You were so close, right on the edge, so close it wouldn’t take much to push you right over it. You slid your hand down your stomach, between your legs, circling your clit with two fingers even while Dean pounded into you, his eyes closed, his cock twitching and pulsing even as you climaxed, your orgasm exploding through you.

Dean lifted you, holding you close, his tight, even thrusts prolonging your pleasure, dragging it out until you were dizzy with the sensations overwhelming you. He came with a quiet grunt, his lips on yours, kissing you breathless. Again.

He held you, his lips drifting over your neck and shoulders, his hands gently caressing you. You kept your arms around him, not wanting him to leave, wishing he could stay forever. When he stepped away from you, you braced yourself for the inevitable, awkward goodbyes that were coming.

Instead, Dean held his hand out to you, a slight smirk on his face. You took it gingerly, not sure what was happening.

“Bedroom?” Dean murmured.

“Bedroom?” you repeated, confused.

“Well, yeah,” he chuckled. “I don’t think I’m ready to leave just yet.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, tugging you close. “If that’s okay with you?”

“Bedroom’s down that hall,” you whispered, pointing over his shoulder.

Dean kissed you, a kiss that only served to reignite the passion between you. “I’ll take that as a yes,” he growled.

Forever:  @jensennjared @mrswhozeewhatsis @the-mrs-deanwinchester @official-shipper @climbthatmooselikeatree @mamapeterson @katnharper @raeganr99 @skybinx-blog @grellsutcliff105 @arikas5744 @faegal04 @the-girl-of-your-nightmares @mrsjohnsmith @mogaruke @nerdwholikesword @growningupgeek @bkwrm523 @iwriteshortstuff @for-the-love-of-dean @nichelle-my-belle @deandoesthingstome @andiamsoinlovewithyou @pizzarollpatrol @misswhizzy @awkwardnerdqueen @valee-ppiew @superbluhoo2 @deansbaekaz2y5 @jencharlan @kickasscas67 @deanscherrypie @kittenofdoomage @tjforston @purgatoan @just-a-touch-of-sass-and-fandoms @sckslife @sis-tafics @youwerelikeadream @i-dream-of-dean @bringmesomepie56 @basmaraafat @oriona75 @ultimatecin73 @gemini75eeyore @vote-for-pedro @tom-is-in-my-tardis @percywinchester27 @mysteriouslyme81 @that1seniorchick @milkymilky-cocopuff @atc74 @s4m-w1nch3st3r5287 @demonangelimpala @justacaliforniandreamer @xxsugarturtle @findingfitnessforme @asxualgallavich @petrovadixon @colorfuluniversewhispers @love-kittykat21 @velcr0kitty @spookypeyton @frickfracklesackles @ria132love @shhhs3cret @harleenquinzzel @icantfindacreativeurl @gallifreyansass @anotherotter @kaitlynmarie1120 @giftofdreams @not-moose-one-shots @you-didnt-see-that-cuming @emoryhemsworth @fangirlofeverythingme @goldenolaf25 @nanie5 @cameronbraswell @luulaachops @upon-a-girl @goofynerd-67babylove @deanandsamsbitch @juanitadiann @brooklyn-writes-flangst @courageoussam @roseangel013bf @neanealuv @impala-with-wings @mischief-maker1 @gallxntdean @4401Inc @frankiea1998 @erin654 @tia58 @winchesterprincessbride @xtina2191 @thepoet1975 @wonderless-screwup @donnaintx @ms-munchkin @dorky-and-i-know-it

Dean girls:  @rizlow1 @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @winchesterenthusiast @salvachester @deanwinchesterxreader @love-me-some-pie21 @appleschloss @zanthiasplace @hybristophilaa @destiel-bae @winchester-bait @ioanashalala @kayteonline @miss-devonaire @torn-and-frayed @piratedaydreams @myspnsmutsave @omgreganlove @secretlyfurrydragon @ho-ne-y @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @rockgoddean @annewinchester @captainemwinchester @klaineaholic @avengedqueen26 @milo-winchester-4ever @kathaswings @akshi8278 @mishamellowmotherfucker @boxywrites @starswirlblitz @laurenphilpott16 @rebeccathefangirl @tardis-full-of-fallen-angels @maddieburcham1 @ilovedean-spn2 @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @huntingandsaving @emmazach @amionthetumbler @pretttypadalecki @baconlover001 @untitled39887 @rattyretro-blog-blog @lupine-princess @feelmyroarrrr @jessica-bones-winchester @lessons-of-red @jayankles @sammit-janet @supernatural-jackles   

[waywardimpalawriter]

Memory Lane

Memory lane

Summary: Life is full of memories.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester, Castiel,

Setting: anytime

Rating: PG:13

Warnings: none just sugary sweet fluff

Word count: 3,103

Notes: Written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog #mimi's romcom fluff challenge. My prompt: Besides you claimed it was a matter of life and death.

Forever: @winters-buck @angryschnauzer @marvel-lucy @aquabrie @fandommaniacx @thetalesofmooseandsquirrel @supernaturallymarvellous @feelmyroarrrr

Supernatural: @smoothdogsgirl @ruprecht0420 @oneshoeshort @aprofoundbondwithdean

Memory lane tags: @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @bradygabrielle-blog @chennyetomlinson

 Stretching, working the kinks out in your back feeling nothing beside you but cool sheets. Eyes open to find what you guess you’re alone in bed with just a note on his pillow. Curious picking up the crisp white folded in half paper, seeing Dean's surprisingly neat handwriting.

Wildflower

           Remember the first time I called you that? What were we 10 no 12, you’d made one of those flower things for your hair. Made one for me to if memory serves but I think I laughed calling it too girly and tossed it in the dirt. Had more important things back then, than some silly flower crown. If only I knew back then what I knew now baby girl. I bet your wondering why I’m bringing this up, in all do time Wildflower. For now I want you to shower, dress and come to the kitchen.

                                                                                   Dean…

“What do you have up your sleeve Dean Winchester,” a smile and shake of your head at his antics but you comply anyway.

The shower felt so nice lonely without him but the pressure made up for Dean’s absents nicely. Coming back to your room puzzled as to why the door is half open. You tip toe towards it pushing slowly to see the most beautiful butter yellow sundress you’d ever seen laying spread on the bed. Fingering the delicate white lace bra in the style you normally buy for special occasions which truthfully had become few and far between. You can’t even remember the last time you and Dean went out on an actual date that didn’t get ruined by a case. All in the name of protecting humanity from the supernatural and beings that most they would rather choice to ignore.

Seeing another little note that simply said ‘wear me’ placed between the dress and panties/bra set. Beginning to wonder if a pod person hadn’t abducted your boyfriend like the fairies had all those years ago. A soft chuckle, the only sound in the otherwise quiet room, memoires flowed through your mind while staring at the magnificent pieces you hoped hadn’t cost a fortune.

Tossing the scrap of paper away only to pick it back up when you see something written on the other side. This time a full belly laugh leaves your lips, ‘don’t worry about the cost your worth it’. Instead it became a memento tucked away in your own, very worn and dearly loved journal.

Soft smile on your lips while getting dressed which takes you almost no time, applying a light  bit of makeup, grabbing your purse on the way out heading for the kitchen. Delicious smells of pancakes, bacon and eggs meeting you’re growling tummy even before entering the kitchen. Fresh brewed coffee mixed in with but no sign of your wayward boyfriend only Sam.

Puzzled, “What’s going on Sam, where’s Dean?”

“Busy with something Y/N he wanted me to make sure you had a good breakfast first before giving you the next clue,” Sam answered arm out indicating the table. Which is laden with all the mouthwatering foods you smelled and even a few, the fresh fruits and juices, you hadn’t.

Glancing from the table back to Sam, “I don’t understand it’s not my birthday or our anniversary. What’d Dean do?” arms crossed not making a move towards the table no matter how much your stomach begs.

Chuckling shaking his shaggy brown head, “He’s done nothing Y/N scouts honor.”

“You were never a scout Sam so you can’t use that,” you relent slipping into a seat and piling your plate high with a little bit of everything. Watching as Sam sat down opposite you digging in to his own plate. “So what’s this really about?” suspicious to Dean’s true motives.  

“It almost sounds like you don’t trust Dean?” brow lifted though there’s a smirk on his syrup coated lips. Grinning he adds, “Just eat I’ll explain everything after.”

Wanting to ask more though you knew from experience Sam wouldn’t give anything up, he wasn’t as easy to persuade as Dean. Therefore you did as he said tucking into your breakfast muttering a string of praises to whoever cooked.

“I’ll have to let Dean know you approved.”

Glancing up from your plate, “Where is he anyway I could tell him myself.”

Pulling another white piece of paper from his back pocket and handing it to you, “That’s all I have to say Y/N.”

Narrowing your eyes at him though taking the note opening; seeing that once again Dean has left you another clue, hint for what you’re not sure.

Wildflower

           By now you’re wondering just what I have up my sleeve aren’t my little Sherlock? Don’t lie I know you all too well sweetheart. Just trust me when I say you’ll love what’s to come. As to the clue, remember where we met, how we met it’s a long drive I know that’s why I enlisted a little help from our pal. Look over Y/N…

                                                                       Dean

Doing as the letter instructed a rustle of wings and a trench coat filled the tiny kitchen, Castiel appearing with a soft genuine smile on his slightly pink lips.

“Morning Y/N I trust you slept well?” he greeted with a little tip of his head in your direction, “Sam good to see you as always.”

“Cas,” he acknowledged with his own half smile. Holding out the plate of bacon, “Want a little something before y’all leave?”

“Thank you no Sam I don’t eat remember,” Castiel replied waving him off looking to you.

“Where exactly are we going?” voice a little weary though you’ve always trusted Cas.

Extending his hand, “You shall see Y/N, Dean has this all set up and we must be going.”

Accepting his surprisingly callused hand, you raise and step into his embrace, eyes close not really enjoying this mode of transportation much.

“Be safe you two and bring her back in one piece Cas,” mirth in his voice watching as your eyes pop open to glare at him.

“You ain’t funny Winchester,” managing to get out before the kitchen disappeared and your standing now in the school yard in small town Ohio.

Stepping away to look around, “Some things just never change,” you whisper walking towards the swings and sitting down.

“So this is where you met Dean?” he asks taking the swing next to yours.

Nodding, “Yeah my parents were on the same hunt his dad was. They teamed up to lay waste to a nest of vamps. Myself, Sam and Dean stayed here went to school and tried to live what we could of a normal life. Course I didn’t know they knew what our parents did.”

Curious, “Mind telling me the story?”

Smiling memories filling your mind, you point to the slide not far from where your slowly swaying, breeze fluttering around them. “I’d always been a tomboy growing up, mom teaching me how to shoot and handle myself from early on. As I said I knew of Dean, new kid in the same year I was fifth grade if I remember right. It’d been a cold afternoon class just got out and I always came over here to just chill out for a bit. Didn’t have any friends.”

“Why not, you’re a very likeable person Y/N?”

“Thank you Cas,” smiling looking over at him, “but back then being the new kid in school wasn’t fun, especially for an odd ball like myself. Ratty old cloths a size to big, long hair always in a french braid my mother would do for me. As it so happens the Winchesters were new to and the school yard bully likes picking on fresh meat as he’d say. I heard the picking and crowd that grew around the two boys. Well dad always taught me to stand up for the little guy and when I saw this bigger kid picking on little Sammy I couldn’t let this happen.”

Chuckling, looking down at the skirt move with the wind as you swung slowly gathering your thoughts. “I stepped in punching the other kid in the nose using the technique mom taught me so I didn’t break my fingers or thumb. The crowd backed up a little afraid of me by this point as I stood in front of Sam who’s on the ground skinned knee, tears on his cheeks. Not five minutes later Dean came pushing through seeing what happened and even then having that patent eye brow raise he uses.”

“Ah yes the one where he’s intrigued and trying not to smirk at the same time,” Castiel states a fond smile on his own lips.

“Yes that one,” clearing your throat, “anyway I helped him bring Sam back to the motel and get patched up. Not really saying much to each other till Sam thanked me quietly and went off to watch TV. I went to leave and Dean, against his dad’s wishes asked me to stick around. We traded stories quietly as Sam had fallen asleep finding out that our parents were in the same business.”

“How long was it till you saw each other after that?

Glancing over, “Couple of months by that time my dad had gotten his self-killed fighting a banshee that mom would later take care of. John asked us to tag along and at first mom didn’t want to rather having us go our separate ways. But she finally relented and we joined up with the Winchesters for quite a many hunting trips; sometimes going our different directions when there were more cases than people.”

“As Dean instructed me,” Castiel hands over another crisp fold white piece of paper.

Head tipped, “So you hadn’t really…”

“I did, originally Dean only wanted me to bring you here so you could look around and read that letter then we’d leave. I wanted to know more about your history together.”

“That’s very sweet of you Cas,” unfolding to see Dean’s neat handwriting not hearing Castiel get up and walk for a few paces to give you privacy.  

Wildflower

           I never thanked you for standing up for my brother that day. Being there when I couldn’t; even before we knew each other you watched out for my ass like you always do. Held me up after Sam’s almost death, when I got back from hell, and through the fucking apocalypse; bringing me back from myself and the brink, always showing no kicking my ass when I needed it. I owe you so much more than I can ever repay sweetheart you are my life. Ah crap this is sounding like a chick flick moment so I’m ending here. Next stop you have to guess at sweetheart.

                                                                                   Dean

 Racking your brain for where Dean could’ve put the next note, there’s so many places you’ve been together. Many important times in your lives though a few stick out more than others.

“Hey Cas would you mind taking me to Harvelle’s?” an idea popping into your head as to your next destination.

“Of course Y/N but you know the roadhouse is gone right?” he states matter of fact a frown on his handsome face.

Nodding, “I do indeed Cas but there’s a reason I need to go there next.”

With a tip of his head and extended hand which you take and step into his arms the two of you are whisked away. Landing the sight of charred remains, grass growing through the black crumbling building. Swallowing hard stepping the white folded paper sticking out from the black that you pull off and hold close. Same hand fondly touched the burned wood, so many memories in one little place.

“How did you know?”

Turning, “My mother and I came here so many times, Jo and I were good friends though she was a bit jealous of the fact that Dean chose me over her. We made amends before she died,” taking a deep breath to steady yourself as not all the memories of this place are good. “Ellen and my mother were best of friends to though Ellen never understood why my mom kept fighting after my dad died. She didn’t understand the drive to protect and rid the world of evil so humans could be safe.”

Stepping away, “Plus this is the first place Dean and I went on an actually date. It was after a simple salt and burn Sam got sick with the flu so he stayed behind at the motel while Dean and I took care of the ghost. Even dirt covered and smelly he asked me out on our first date. Ellen hadn’t been too thrilled with how we showed up. She let us use her guest room to clean up and more presentable. Good thing we always carry extra clothes in the back of Baby.”

Fond smile slides over your lips as you finger the white piece of paper in your hands finally opening to read what Dean has put this time.

Wildflower

           I’m betting your standing in front of the Roadhouse remembering good time right now. I can still hear Ash’s snores from the pool table that one night we got there so late most everyone else was gone. But you wanted to see Jo and Ellen since we’d been so close. I also remember our first date, how even covered it dirt from digging a grave you looked so beautiful. To this day I still can’t figure out why the hell you ever said yes to an asshole like me. Don’t roll your eyes sweetheart they’ll stay like that. Last stop can you guess where?

                                               Dean

This time it’s a two for and a little harder to pin point than all the others. You don’t even have to ask when Castiel took your arm and brought you into the circle of his arms. A rustle of wings and trench coat and you’re in the middle of a corn field Baby sitting off to the side which makes you frown in wonder how…

“You were in on this weren’t you like Sam. You know what Dean has planned all along don’t you Cas?” tone light but firm wanting to know but at the same time this trip down memory lane has been charming though confusing to.

Smiling, “I cannot say anything to what Dean has planned he just asked me to transport you around as most of the places would be too far for you to get to and back in time.”

Scowling, fixing to give him what for only to find him gone when you turn around. Left thankfully not far from the Bunker. Curiosity has you moving towards the driver’s side finding the doors unlocked, before you can slip in a color catching your eyes. A bundle of carnations lay in the seat, soft yellow in color, another note attached. Picking up the bouquet and inhaling the fragrance you slide into Baby’s drive seat opening the note.

Wildflower

           That night what four years ago one of the best I’d ever had. The moment I told you I loved you and meant every word and will always. You’ve made me a better man Y/N, kept me alive and taught me the meaning of life without knowing you had. You are my life Y/N and this; this is the only way I can tell you and be able to get out without cracking some kind of joke or inappropriate comment that’ll get me slapped. I love you Y/N.

                                                           Dean

Tears gather in your eyes, a few slipping down your cheeks at his sweet words. Jumping at the sound of your cell going off, you pull it from the small bag you brought with. “I was wondering when you’d call,” voice light and teasing, putting the bouquet beside you on the seat.

“Baby I hate to cut our day short but you need to get back to the Bunker we have a case,” his voice sounding off like he’s holding something back.

“Already I was hoping that today was our off day,” a playful pout in the cadence of your tone even as you start Baby and putting her into gear heading back towards the Bunker.

Sighing, “I know sweetheart I did to but you know evil don’t rest for no man nor will it stop. It’s a bad one sweetheart we gotta hurry, life or death things are happening.”

“I’ll be there in a little bit Dean, hold your ass baby,” flooring it and kicking up a cloud of dust on your way out.

Fifteen minutes later, pulling Baby into her spot in the underground garage, getting out, grabbing your flowers and making your way upstairs, you’re surprised to see a path of flower petals. Following them towards the library where Dean’s standing dressed in his FBI dubs a single red carnation in his hand.  

“What,” stepping forward eyes taking him in, “what’s going on Dean?”

“Surprise,” he smiles dropping to a knee before you sea green eyes sparkling in the low light.

Glairing but your heart is beating so fast inside your chest, “I rushed to get here thinking… because you said and made it sound horrible.” Shaking your head, “Besides you claimed it was a matter of life and death.”

“Well actually it kinda is, my life or death,” he swallows pulling a little velvet box from his pocket.

Gasping, “Dean, what, what’s going on?”

“I had this whole long spiel planned to say, to talk you into saying yes to my proposal. I want you to marry me Y/N be my forever?” hands shaking while opening the box showing you the small garnet ring with a silver band.

Looking from the ring to Dean and back again, nodding slowly tears slipping down your cheeks again, as you drop down to your knees before him. Taking his face in your hands, kissing him softly, “Yes my love, yes I’ll marry you.”

Big smile breaking out over his features, capturing your lips in a deep passionate kiss; resting your foreheads together, “Yes Wildflower is that a yes baby?

“Yes Dean it’s a yes,” you laugh kissing him again the two of you falling over onto the cold floor.

Shaking his head, “Really you two get a room” Sam comments though there’s a big smile on his lips. “Welcome officially to the family Y/N.”  

Looking from Sam’s retreating back to Dean, “So no case?”

“No case sweetheart,” he grins getting up then scooping you up into his arms. “And for the next few days you’re all mine.”

Laughter echo’s down the hall as Dean rushes the two of you towards your shared room.

[jayankles]

These Bad Boys

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1393

Warnings: Light smut

Summary: The Winchester brothers are on a hunt, leaving you behind, and you miss Dean’s touch. When he calls to say that he is finished up with it he sounds fatigued, so you take the time to help him relieve the tension.

A/N – This is my submission to @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog  Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge with the quote: ‘there’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours,’ from The Princess Bride.

Dean had been on a hunt for that past two weeks and being away from him was driving you crazy, you needed him – needed him so bad. The most important thing you needed was his touch; you craved it and not just during sex, although that was a plus.

You loved it when he let down his walls and the weight from his shoulders were lifted when it was just the two of you in your bedroom. When you weren’t having sex, you spent the time in each others arms, cradling each others bodies in your arms.

The warmth he gave you was undeniable. His body heat magnificent when you were freezing your socks off, even within the walls of the bunker.

Texting back and forth with the Winchester brothers, you found out that the monster they were hunting was a rugaru which turned out to have a twin brother, so when they thought they were done and burned the body, it was mysterious when more bodies had shown up dead.

The boys went back to find the twin rugaru and did the exact same with the last one, burning it.

Dean had called to say that they would spend the night in the motel they were at for another morning to catch up on some sleep. Over the phone, you could tell from the hoarseness of his voice that he was exhausted so maybe just one more day without Dean – and Sam – would be okay with you. Especially when they were out saving the world. It does end up taking a toll of their body; whether it be physical scars or emotional ones.

You decided then that when Dean came back that you would do something special for him. You just didn’t know what yet and you didn’t have much time. The boys would be back within the next twenty four hours considering timezones and such – honestly, you had no idea where they were – but that still wasn’t enough for you to conjure the right thing for it to be special. Not in that time.

Searching for anything that caught your eye but nothing seemed to jump out at you, nothing seemed to scream Welcome Home, Dean.

It was frustrating really. The man was simple, maybe too simple, but everything that you laid eyes upon wasn’t enough for your lover.

Cuddling and a watching a classic movie sounded like a good start but you would just have to sleep on it and pray that something in your dreams – something in your unconscious mind - would help you find the perfect thing for Dean.

Rummaging around your wardrobe, in just your most flattering bra and shorts, you tried to find your floral summer dress and slip on shoes. You were thinking of treating him to breakfast at the diner, he was going to need it especially after the long drive back.

‘There’s a shortage of perfect breasts in this world. It would be a pity to damage yours.’ Dean’s voice sounded from the front of the room, when you spun around you saw a cocky grin on his face as he leaned against the frame of the door, arms folded across his chest.

‘Okay you’ve reached your quota of The Princess Bride this month you gotta ease up on that,’ Dean whined, he genuinely seemed to enjoy the movie you had shown him six months ago. ‘but speaking of breasts...who would wanna damage these bad boys? I mean, your hands, Dean…’ you cupped then in your own hands, not enough justice done with them but enough to tease, ‘mould perfectly to them, they’ve got a great shape and the best part is that they’re real. No silicone in this beast’s chest.’

Dean groaned in agreement as you spoke the sensual words, he could barely control himself, the bulge in his jeans becoming noticably hard and strained in it confines. Closing the door behind him, He stalked towards you, his eyes connecting with yours, ‘two weeks is a long time darlin’, guess I gotta reacquaint myself with these “bad boys,” don’t I?’

His hands had closed around the soft, spherical weights on your chest, covered by the bra you were still wearing. ‘You’re right. My hands do mould perfectly but...I think we need to get rid of the unnecessary fabric.’ He did exactly what he said he was going to do.

Slowly, in time with his kisses, his fingers travelled to your back and then he unhooked your bra, allowing it to fall freely down your arms.

Dean’s kiss was magical, his plump pink lips brushed against yours softly before he pressed a little deeper. His tongue slowly sliding against your bottom lip before licking against your top one.

You willingly opened up for him, there was no way you wouldn’t, not when you were so desperate for him; it had been too damn long.

When the need for air became too much, you reluctantly pulled away. He quickly pecked a little kiss at your lips once more and you giggled, enjoying his ability to be playful with you.

He ducked his head to the level of your breasts and looked up at you again, the smirk painted on his face before he latched his mouth onto your nipple, his tongue tracing and circling around it. His teeth grazing and pulling at your nipple as he switched his attention to the other breast, repeating his actions from a few seconds ago.

Returning the favour, you swiftly unbuckled his belt and slipped your hands past the waistband of his jeans, your fingers wrapping around the thickness of his cock. You twisted and pulled at his substantial length, earning a few groans that vibrated against your chest.

Repeating your actions, he thrusted his hips into your fist, drawing his orgasm nearer. Soon, his release came and he spurted the thick ropes of his orgasm into your hand and his boxers, his stomach contorting as the last of his orgasm took place, his teeth clamping down on the pebbled nub.

You moaned with every flick and swirl of his tongue, fingers tangling and tugging at the shorts strands of his hair. Goosebumps rose to the surface as he delicately traced his callous yet soft fingers over your skin.

‘Dean...’ you whined under his talented tongue and teeth, entwining your fingers with his.

‘Yeah baby?’

His emerald green eyes glancing up and coming into contact with your lust blown Y/E/C ones.

‘You ruined my surprise.’

A smirk graced his face after he released your nipple, he kissed up the valley of your breasts to your neck to your lips where he pressed a brief kiss there.

‘And you ruined the moment,’ he freed a hand and patted your cheek. ‘Well done, darlin’.’

‘Shut up!’ You shoved at his chest but he remained unbudged, his arms wrapping around your waist, crushing your naked chest to his clothed one. ‘I was gonna give you a massage before I took you for breakfast.’

‘Well then,’ he pulled away, stripping out of his flannel and tee before moving onto his already undone belt buckle, quickly popping the button of his jeans, fumbling with it as you joined in, wanting to touch every inch of him. ‘I think we should use those fancy smellin’ oils and make that breakfast lunch, maybe even dinner. We’re gonna be a little busy. It has been two weeks.’

He pushed the denim passed his waist and over his bowlegs, leaving him in just his boxers; at least the layers of clothing were even on both of your bodies.

Groaning, he enjoyed when he got to lie down on his stomach and you straddling his thighs. He growled as the cold oil treacled over his contrastingly warm shoulder blades.

You shut the lid to the oil with a soft click and tossed it to the side of the bed. Dean had relaxed, wiggling into the memory foam and resting his temple on his crossed forearms.

A satisfied sigh was pulled from him every once in a while as you massaged some off the tension in his back away, you felt it melting away as you palm into his muscles and his shoulders dropped.

Leaning down, you kissed at his shoulder and worked your way to his neck but, of course, he was snoring; sound asleep. 

‘Unbelievable,’ you huffed.

Lemme know what you think...

@thorne93 @becaamm @jotink78 @love-kittykat21 @jensen-jarpad @hymnofthevalkyrie @capsheadquaters @kurosaki224-new-blog @supernatural-jackles @cyrilconnelly @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @iwantthedean @goody2shoessmut @ruprecht0420 @mrswhozeewhatsis @feelmyroarrrr @redlipstickandplaid @mogaruke @pureawesomeness001 @mizzezm @jpadjackles @jesspfly @1amluke @skybinx-blog @aubzylynn @deansbaekaz2y5 @plaidstiel-wormstache @lilasiannerd @valerieshubin @be-amaziing @akshi8278 @purplediamon @graceforme86 @its-my-perky-nipples @nervousmemzie @mrsbatesmotel53 @lavieenlex @percussiongirl2017 @oneshoeshort @whit85-blog @muliermalefici @spn-dean-and-sam-winchester @moonlover19 @emoryhemsworth @reallyverynodansi @milo-winchester-4ever @captainradicalpassion @captainemwinchester @ilsawasanacrobat @alicat-life @cojootromuelle @essie1876 @dancingalone21 @dslocum89 @atc74 @superwhomerlockinuum @spnbaby-67 @anitalasirenita @queencflair @weasleywinchester @ria132love

[pinknerdpanda]

Blast From the Past

Word Count: 3,100

Characters: Sam x Reader, others mentioned

Warnings: Fluff, Sam’s abs, verbal diarrhea

A/N: This was written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog​ for Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge. My prompt is bolded below.  Beta’d by @wheresthekillswitch​ and @hannahindie​ - I love you both very muchness. Thank you!

x

Blast From the Past

“If I never have to see a spooky, drafty old house again in my life, it would be too soon,” you whisper to yourself as you slink along the rear wall of the dining room, the shredded remnants of ancient wallpaper barely clinging to its surface. Pausing, as you reach the end of the wall, you focus your attention to listen for any unusual noises.

After several moments of relative silence, you peek around the wall and freeze in stunned horror. There, at the end of the hallway adjacent to the room you’re in now, the enormous, hulking shadow of a man flickers eerily in the sparsely lit corridor. You dart quickly away from the end and hug the wall tightly with your back. You clamp your hand around the handle of your gun and suck in a shaky breath. You count silently in your head “One….two….three”  jumping out from around the corner and aiming your small, altered shotgun toward the place where the shadow had been.

To your surprise, the shadow has vanished and you scrunch up your face contemptuously. Standing in the middle of the now empty hallway, gun still pointed uselessly into the darkness, you feel very stupid. After several seconds of staring disbelievingly, you lower your firearm, roll your eyes, and continue on your path. It was just nerves. Just calm down.

The hallway is short but lined with three doors on each side. You pause before the first one, listening. No sound. You duck inside the open door only to find a room devoid of furniture except for a single wooden chair, one leg broken so that it’s tipped forward at a sickening angle. Backing out of the room, you wonder if it would just be better to torch the whole damn building instead of wasting any more of your time on this friggin’ ghost.

As you turn toward the next room, a hand clamps down around your arm, yanking you backward and your stomach lurches. It's been a very long time since you’ve allowed your fear to manifest, but it’s impossible to stop the shriek that escapes your lips. A second hand moves to cover your mouth, muffling your screams. You wonder if the owner of the hands will even be able to murder you, or if your over-excited heart will explode first and beat them to it.

“Shh. Listen.” The voice in your ear is barely above a whisper, but it sounds distinctly male. You comply for no other reason than sheer terror and try to focus on any other sound than the pounding in your chest. For several long seconds, there is nothing at all, but then, from somewhere indiscernible, the sound of heavy, deliberate footfalls catches your attention. When silence fills your ears again, the grip on your arms and mouth loosens.

Before you can react you are being led back into the first room with the broken chair. You turn to see a very tall man with long, dark hair and a worried expression looking down at you. You recognize the shape of him as that of the non-phantom phantom in the hallway just minutes earlier. It’s somewhat gratifying to know that you aren’t completely insane.

“Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he says quietly, keeping his voice low. “What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t mean to scare me? Well, bang up job that was,” you scowl up at him. “I’m, well...here.” You grope awkwardly in the canvas bag slung across your body before digging out your fake ID badge and shoving it into his hand. For a second, he looks almost amused and you scowl harder at him.

“Nice work on the badge,” he glances down again, “y/n. Looks like we are in the same line of business, then.” He flashes you the ghost of a dimpled grin. “I’m Sam. Sam Winchester.”

The scowl on your face melts into a look of surprise - your mouth falling open and your eyes blowing wide. Even in the dark, a faint blush floods his face and he looks down.

As if by magic, you’re transported to a different time and place where life was much more simple and you’d felt invincible. You can still picture the devious gleam in his eyes - a much younger version of the ones staring back at you now - as he’d jumped from behind the rusted remains of what used to be a 1960 Dodge Dart. He’d nearly scared you to death in the middle of Uncle Bobby’s Salvage yard that day, the book that your nose had been buried in moments before having sprung from your hands and landed a few yards away. Sam’s hair was shorter then, and so was he. And you’d known that the flustered feeling had little to do with him frightening you; Sam’s presence had always tied your insides in knots.

That was the last time you’d seen him and, 20 years later, you’d suspected it would stay that way. Sure you’d heard stories about the boy who would be king, but saved the world instead. The Winchesters are about as close to being celebrities as it gets in the hunter world. Some people say that he is a selfish man who consorts with demons for power and sex - that he is in fact ‘evil’. You’ve always suspected that this group of people thought that way out of pure jealousy.

Other people believe that Sam and his brother Dean are the human version of duct tape; always stretching themselves over one crack in the universe or another. That group - the ones who believe Sam and Dean to be brave, intelligent and good - appear to be the majority.

But the name Sam Winchester strikes a different chord with you. You had known him to be kind and thoughtful, if a little mischievous. He’d been the first boy you’d ever noticed or had feelings for and even now, standing in the middle of a very haunted house, you feel that long forgotten sensation of butterflies deep in the pit of your stomach.

As you look up into those familiar hazel eyes, still slack jawed and bug-eyed, you come to a realization; he doesn’t know who you are. Though, to be fair, 20 years is a long time and you are a far cry from the awkward, knobby-kneed, freckle face 13 year old girl you were back then. Besides, you hadn’t recognized him until he’d told you his name. You just can’t get over how much he’s grown.

“Geeze, he’s so damn tall.” Sam’s face scrunches up, his mouth forming a perfect frown and he looks taken aback.

“I said that bit out loud, didn’t I?” Your cheeks begin to flame as he nods. “Sorry, uh...you are, ya know....just, uh...just the right amount of tall….”

Sam barks a short laugh, waving a hand in front of his face. “Really, it’s ok. I assume you’re here about Jenkins?”

“Yeah,” you frown. “I guess you're here for the same reason?”

“Actually, yes. So get this, Jenkins died here on this night 57 years ago and every year…”

You interrupt “...and every year on this night, some poor sap goes missing, thinking that they are going to be the one who can spend the whole night here. I did my research.” You don’t mean to sound so indignant, but it slips and you begin to chew on your bottom lip - a lingering habit from your childhood.

“Sure, right. Of course.” Sam’s eyebrows knit together briefly as he scans you up and down.  He rakes one hand through his wavy hair nervously.

A loud bang from somewhere in the house cuts through the now awkward silence and you both freeze, your ears straining and your eyes darting around the dark, nearly empty room. Sam holds up one hand and you bite back the sarcastic comment that floats to the surface. Another sound echoes through the shadows and you silently point to the cracked ceiling.

You follow Sam out of the room, lifting your gun as he does the same. The floorboards groan softly as you retrace your steps back to the dining room. As you approach the bottom of the steps leading to the second floor, you hear an unsettling string of metallic clicks seeming to come from all directions.

“Shit!” Sam lunges for the latch in the front door, trying unsuccessfully to open it. “The doors are locked. We’re stuck.”

A shiver travels the length of your spine and you struggle to push back the whirlwind of anxious thoughts that swarm in your head at his words.

��It's gonna be alright, y/n. Let's just stay together and we will be out of here in no time, ok? You with me?” His expression is soft and comforting and for a fleeting moment you wonder how anyone could possibly think that this man was evil; clearly he’s made of actual sunshine. You nod, swallowing hard and squaring your shoulders.

Sam moves tentatively up the staircase and you follow close behind him, his broad back and shoulders looming over you reassuringly. The second floor is small but there are two doors ahead of you and he glances back at you, flicking his head toward the door on the left before gliding over and turning the knob quietly.

No sooner has Sam opened the door and stepped inside, then you hear a wooden thud resonating from inside the room, followed by one and then another. He grips the handle, struggling to pull it closed again, but he can’t - it appears to be stuck. Thud, thud. Thwack, thump. You can’t see exactly what is happening, but you assume you have found the source of the poltergeist activity. Reaching around him and throwing your body weight into it, you pull with all your might trying to close the door once more.

As if in slow motion, three things happen very quickly. You hear a small, but meaty sounding, thump followed immediately by the sound of Sam crying out and the tinny, evil sound of deep laughter echoes off the walls of the room as if mocking you. Giving one last grunt, you are surprised to see that you’ve been successful in closing the door in time as the sharpened tip of a silver bladed knife peaks out from between the woodgrains.

You usher Sam into the adjacent room, scanning for suspicious activity. Finding none, you yank the door closed behind you and reach into your bag, coming up with two small containers of salt. You work quickly, pouring the salt in a large, neat circle and seating Sam right in the middle. Another metallic click, closer this time, makes you jump - the ghost has you cornered. You move quickly and pour the remaining contents in front of the door and along the window sill before joining Sam inside the ring. The sound of banging and laughter still flowing from the room next door.

Glancing down, you see a faint, but steadily growing spot of blood on Sam’s shirt, beginning under his right arm.  It’s hard to know exactly to what extent the damage has been done with, what appears to be, at least three layers of clothing standing in your way. You look up into his face to find it full of pain. Sliding the strap of your bag off your shoulder, you scrounge around, coming up with a small tin box. Sam looks at it curiously and you grin, flipping open the lid revealing three airplane-sized bottles of vodka, a packet of dental floss, a clear pouch containing sewing needles of various sizes, and several different types of bandages.

“Hunter’s First Aid Kit. Ok, I’m going to need to look at that wound,” you flinch before continuing. “Will you take off your shirt?”

Sam is already shrugging out of his jacket. Next, his long fingers begin working to undo the buttons. He winces as he removes the now ruined flannel and sets it aside before sucking in a breath and gripping the edge of his grey t-shirt and pulling it gingerly over his head.

The room is dark, but there is a decent amount of moonlight filtering through the dilapidated blinds and it glints off of his bare chest, rising and falling from the effort. You were completely unprepared for the sight before you; planes of smooth, tanned skin rippling deliciously over taught, defined muscle.   

“Fuck! Seriously?” You can’t stop the words from coming out of your mouth as you feel your eyes growing wide.

Sam’s face is marred with worry. “What? Is it that bad? It hurts but…”

“It’s like you’re Photoshopped!” You cut him off, still unable to control the sudden onset of verbal diarrhea.  You drag your gaze from his chest and look up into his face, to find him blushing, a shy, embarrassed smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Sorry. Shit. No it’s not bad, just a couple of stitches and you should be good to go.”

“Thanks.” Sam’s eyes bore into yours, making your hands shake slightly as you reach for the bottles of vodka from the box. You hand one to him before opening another.

“Drink this,” you say and reach for his flannel, holding it against his skin and pouring the contents of the bottle over his wound. A low hiss escapes his lips and he drains his own bottle, tossing it aside. A chorus of thumps and bangs echo from the hallway as you stitch the cut in Sam’s side.

“Any idea what got you?” You flick your eyes to his quickly before looking back at your work.

“I didn’t see it, but it was something metal.” Sam grimaces as you make your last pass and tie the ends, neatly. Tossing the supplies back into your box, you open the last bottle of vodka and pour half of it over your work before passing it to Sam. You cover the whole thing with gauze and tape the edges.

“All done,” you close the box and tuck it back into your bag, before wiping your hands on your thighs.

“Thanks, y/n,” Sam smiles, and adjusts, careful not to break the line of salt behind him. He checks his watch. “So I think we have about two hours until dawn and I think the doors should all unlock then. Looks like we will have to wait until tomorrow to take care of the ghost. So, how have you been?”

Startled, you study his face carefully. “You remember me?”

“Well, not at first, Sam chuckles. “But you were chewing on your lip earlier, and it all kind of clicked. I felt like I was 13 again; chasing you around Bobby’s place and scaring the shit out of you. I see you never lost your habit of saying all your inner dialogue out loud.”

You bark a laugh, wrapping your arms around your knees and pulling them to your chest. “Nope. Try as I might, I never developed that filter everyone keeps saying I need.” Your smile fades. “I was really sorry to hear about Bobby.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sam nods somberly. “But you, you’re a hunter now.”

“Kind of hard to get away from what you grew up with. My parents died about seven years ago; werewolf. I’ve been on my own ever since.”

“I’m so sorry, y/n.” Sam’s eyes are so full of empathy, it is unnerving.

“Thanks. But I mean...I’m nothing close to the famous Sam Winchester.”

“Right! Well I mean, you’re not wrong,” Sam says sarcastically and rolls his eyes. “I’m just doing my part, Dean too.”

“Oh I’ve heard the stories,” you smile back at him. “I’ve missed you, Sam. I never thought I would see you again.”

“You too, y/n. It’s funny how life works, huh?”

“So true. I just can’t believe you remember me,” you say softly, dropping your eyes to your hands and studying them very carefully. Sam covers both of your hands with one of his and you look up into his face, dazed and caught off guard.

“Of course I do,” Sam’s eyebrows are cinched together, a look of disbelief filling his eyes. “I had a huge crush on you when we were kids, but I was always too scared to say anything. I’ve thought about you a lot, actually. I always figured you’d gotten out of the life, or I would have looked you up ages ago.”

Every thought you’d had in your head up to this point seems to have mysteriously vanished as his words sink in. You open your mouth and close it a few times, hoping for something brilliant and insightful to say, but the most you can manage is a strangled, “Oh.”

“Wow, I don’t remember ever seeing you speechless.” Sam’s dimples grow as his boyish grin widens.

“I can’t say it’s happened often,” you choke out, your eyes glued to his hand, warm and heavy against yours. “I had no idea. I always assumed you thought I was the ‘nerdy, bossy girl.’”

“Oh, I did. No question. But that was one of the things I liked best about you. Why else do you think I tortured you? I was too chicken shit to say anything, but at least I got to see you all worked up.”

“Well, I’m glad you got over your fear of talking to women, or else…”

Sam’s lips are on yours before you can finish whatever lame thing you were about to say. He’s hesitant at first, like he’s testing the waters. You melt against him and his kiss becomes more urgent, the feel of his breath mingling with yours making you dizzy. The tip of his tongue traces the crease in your lips and you part for him, moaning into his mouth as your tongues meet. He tastes like mint and vodka and the groan that vibrates through his chest shoots straight to your core.

You pull back, eyelids heavy and your breath coming in short gasps. “Well that was...unexpected.”

Sam chuckles, a deliciously low sound. “It’s probably a good thing we didn’t try that when we were kids. I had no idea what I was doing back then.” He raises his hand to move a stray hair from your face, and winces.

“Ok there, Casanova. Let’s get you healed up and we can pick up where we left off.” You blanch, realizing that you’ve just made a largely baseless assumption. “Or not. Wait. I mean...you definitely need to heal up, but I didn’t...we aren’t...I don’t want to assume…”

Sam places a long finger against your lips. “I would like that, more than anything.”

You smile up at him, your heart flooding with an overwhelming sense of relief.

“Besides,” Sam adds. “We’ve got some time to make up for.”

Like what you see? Want more? My Masterlist is here. Thanks for reading! :)

My Forever Tags (I love you guys - stay weird!):

@wheresthekillswitch​ @arryn-nyxx​ @emilywritesaboutdean​ @fandommaniacx​ @cookie-dough-lova​ @spnfanficpond​ @impandagrl​ @maddieburcham1​ @trexrambling​ @27bmm​ @beachballsizeladyballs​ @hannahindie​ @rosie-winchester​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @that-writer-one​ @amionthetumbler @abbessolute @deansdirtyduchess​ @fandomismyspiritanimal​ @angelsandwinchesters​ @cfordwrites​ @zenia3​ @charliebradbury1104​ @9769997118​ @mogaruke​ @luulaachops​ @supernaturaldean67​  @barbedwireandbubblegum​ @karlee-fay-my-wayward-son​ @muliermalefici​ @galaxy-jellyfish-queen​ @canadianjelly​ @kathaswings​ @almusanzug​ @feelmyroarrrr​ @captainradicalpassion​ @bethbabybaby​ @thinkwritexpress-official​ @akshi8278​ @hexparker​ @emoryhemsworth​ @boxywrites​ @justanotherdeangirl​ @atc74​ @anticipate1003​ @super100012​ @thing-you-do-with-that-thing​

Pond Tags (Sam + Fluff): @manawhaat @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @blushingsamgirl @notnaturalanahi @bkwrm523 @whispersandwhiskerburn @roxy-davenport @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @frenchybell @for-the-love-of-dean @mysupernaturalfics @spn-fan-girl-173 @deandoesthingstome @jelly-beans-and-gstrings @fiveleaf @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @captain-princess-rose @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @idreamofhazel @wevegotworktodo @ilovedean-spn2 @babypieandwhiskey @wi-deangirl77 @deantbh @supermoonpanda @sinceriouslyamellpadalecki @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @memariana91 @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @writingbeautifulmen @revwinchester @ageekchiclife @your-average-distracted-waffle @drarina1737 @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @mysaintsasinner @ohwritever @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bohowitch @clueless-gold @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business @4401lnc

[hannahindie]

Fearless

Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam Word Count: 3,881 Warnings: Language, mention of miscarriage (nothing in depth), violence, sass, blood, hurt Sam, hurt Dean A/N: I wrote this for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog‘s romcom fluff challenge! Congratulations on the followers, darling! I had prompt 71. “The girl I knew used to be fearless.” It is bolded below.

Beta’d by my beautiful waterbear @trexrambling: “Of course he is. Come on, Dean, get it together.”

And my precious panda @pinknerdpanda: “I love how sassy and like....badass your readers are.”

Thank you, lovelies. I’d be lost without you. <3

As usual, tags are at the bottom. If you’d liked to be added, please let me know!

Overview: The reader had left hunting years ago, and Dean comes back to try to convince her to come with them. When she refuses, Dean finds himself in a predicament. The reader has to make a decision.

“The girl I knew used to be fearless.”

I froze, my hands clenched tightly by my sides, and spun around to face Dean.

“Excuse me?”

Dean jammed his hands in his pockets nervously, as if he hadn’t expected me to turn around. “I’m just saying, the girl I knew when I was kid...she wouldn’t run away. The girl I knew grew up and became one of the best hunters I know.”

“The girl you knew has not existed for years. The girl you knew lost more than she could have ever dreamed of losing, because of this life. And now here you are, just expecting me to hop back into it, because you asked me to? Who do you think you are, Dean Winchester?” I spat as the anger bubbled just under the surface. Dean didn’t know what had happened to me because he hadn’t asked. He was working based off of assumptions he made about who I was ten years ago, not who I was now.

“Well, I’m freakin’ adorable, for starters-”

The dam holding back every single thought I’d kept inside for the past decade broke. I crossed the space between us and glared up at him. For a moment, I figured it must look comical, Dean being at least a foot taller than me, but I must have looked angry enough for that to not matter. “What you are is a self-centered, egotistical asshole that thinks he can get what he wants by flashing a smile and saying something endearingly stupid.”

Dean’s smile slowly turned into a scowl, but I was on too much of a roll to stop. “What you are,” I growled, accentuating each word with a jab to his chest, “is a giant pain in my ass that I’m glad I left behind years ago. I have lost my family, I have lost my child, I have lost just about every single person I have ever cared about in this world, but I have not lost my ability to call out your bullshit.”

Dean’s eyes widened, “Your child?”

I jabbed him in the chest again, “Do not interrupt me. You have no right to tell me who I used to be, and you sure as hell don’t have the right to come back into my life and ask for my help. I’m not some doe-eyed, little hunter that’s going to follow you around and hope that you notice me anymore. I’m not a hunter anymore. Just...just leave, Dean.” I turned and walked back into my house, leaving Dean alone on the sidewalk wide eyed and slack jawed, and slammed the door shut. I leaned against it and closed my eyes, and my heart broke when I heard the familiar sound of the Impala’s engine roar to life, then fade out as he sped off. I slid down the door and hit the floor, and for the first time in a very long time, I cried because of Dean Winchester.

Three days later…

A loud, bone-rattling banging woke me from a dreamless sleep, and I moaned into my pillow. I didn’t know what time it was, but something told me it was too late for someone to be making an attempt to bust in my front door. I sat up with a groan and grabbed the Louisville slugger that I kept next to my bed. I may not have hunted anymore, but I wasn’t stupid. The loud banging had stopped, but as I shuffled slowly down the hall and cautiously turned the corner towards the front door, it started up again.

Although I hesitated to answer, my irritation was winning out over my caution, “I’m coming, Jesus, can you hold on a second?” I flipped the porch light on and peered through the peephole. All I could see was the top of someone’s head, but I recognized the shaggy, chestnut hair immediately. “Sam?” I pulled the door open, and Sam nearly fell on top of me. I had to drop the bat to catch his enormous frame. “Holy shit, Sam, what happened?” I somehow wrangled him to the couch and let him fall heavily into it. He leaned his head against the cushion, his eyes shut and his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

Blood splattered his unshaven face, and a bruise was already forming on his right eye. His bottom lip looked to be split, and by the way he was carefully nursing his side as he shifted his position on the couch, I guessed he probably had a couple of broken ribs. The front of his shirt was ripped open and, judging by the amount of blood, he probably needed stitches. “What the hell happened, Sam?” I knelt by the couch and pulled back his shirt to see the damage.

Sam hissed as the shirt pulled away from the wound, “Vampires. We, uh….dammit...uh...we had a bit of a problem.”

I looked up at him, my eyebrow raised, “You don’t say? You need stitches.” I made my way to the bathroom to grab my first aid kit. “Where’s Dean?” I shouted over my shoulder as I dug around in the medicine cabinet, pulling out the kit and a small bottle of whiskey. Despite my claims, there was still a bit of hunter in me, and I found that old habits died hard.

“He...he’s still there. In the nest.”

I came back into the living room and stopped in front of Sam. “Why...how did that happen?” I asked with a frown as I uncapped the whiskey.

Sam struggled to pull his shirt off as I knelt down in front of him again, “We thought it was just the one vamp, maybe two. Turned out it was an entire nest. We were hoping you’d help, but Dean said you were busy. I told him we should wait to get some backup, but you know how he is. Thinks he’s freakin’ indestructible.”

I hummed in response and hoped that that was all Dean had said to Sam. We were silent for a moment as I poured the whiskey over Sam’s wound, the only sound to break the silence a muffled groan as Sam tried to power through it. I heated up the needle and looked up at Sam apologetically, “All I have is floss...sorry.”

Sam chuckled darkly, “Minty fresh, I guess.” He very subtly twitched as the needle pierced his skin the first time, but remained still as I began to stitch him up. “Y/N…”

“Yea?” I asked, keeping my eye on the task at hand.

“Dean said...umm...he mentioned that you two kind of fought.”

I shrugged, “If you can call me verbally handing him his ass an argument, sure.”

“That sounds about right.” He watched as I tied off the floss and reached for a bandage. “He also mentioned that you said you’d lost...that you’d lost a child. Why didn’t you tell us?” I sighed as I smoothed the bandage over his stitches, lingering longer than I needed to so I could try to come up with an excuse, any reason to not have to tell Sam the truth. But then I looked up and Sam was giving me that look, the one that had always gotten him his way. I have never been certain if he did it on purpose, but regardless, it worked every damn time.

I sat back on my haunches and sighed, “Because I wanted to forget about it, okay? I made a mistake, and I was questioning what I wanted to do...and then I went on a hunt that should have been simple, and it wasn’t, and then my decision was made for me. And it was in that moment that I realized that the one chance I had at a normal life was gone because of who I was...and I didn’t want to keep living like that. And if I’d told you and Dean, I may have never left.”

Sam looked at me, his gaze soft, and I watched as realization crossed his features.

“Was it Dean’s?” he whispered, so quiet I almost didn’t hear him.

My chest tightened at his words, and though I could have tried to lie, Sam would have known. I nodded and looked down at my hands, afraid to look Sam in the face. I could feel a tear roll down my cheek, and I hastily wiped it away.

“We could have helped you...you shouldn’t have had to deal with that alone.” I stood up and quickly walked into the kitchen. I tossed the towels and bandage wrappers in the trash, washed my hands, then went to the fridge and grabbed a beer.

“It wasn’t your problem to deal with. And it would have destroyed Dean, you know that. It was better that I left. I handled it, and I got a new life. It’s quiet and I have a respectable job, and who knows...maybe someday I’ll get to have that chance again.”

Even saying it out loud wasn’t convincing. I had wanted nothing more than to tell Dean what happened. He had deserved to know, but at the last minute I chickened out. I ran. The girl that Dean thought was fearless has been overtaken by it and ran. As nice as it was to have a normal life, I still ached for the hunt. I avoided newspapers and television so that I wouldn’t accidentally come across something that needed to be investigated. I still had all of my burner phones, even if I did avoid checking them in fear that Dean’s voice would be waiting for me. The past ten years had been a long con that was designed only for me, and up until now, it had been working.

I felt Sam’s large hand pull the beer from my hand and heard the clink of it as he sat it on the counter. Before I could object, he pulled me into him, his chin resting gently on the top of my head. His flannel clad arms had me trapped, and I finally sank into them and let the years of sadness and frustration come pouring out. I cried for me, and for Dean. I cried for the family we could have had and the years I had lost with two of the most important people in my life. I don’t know how long we stood like that, but when I finally pulled back I saw that Sam’s eyes weren’t dry either, and I realized for the first time how damn tired he looked.

I cleared my throat as I rubbed the tears from my eyes, “Alright, Sammy, let’s go get your brother.”

He raised his eyebrows, “You sure?”

I nodded and made my way to the hall closet, “Yea. I’ve been lying to myself for a long time. I’m a hunter, it’s not as if you just quit being one. Also, I owe Dean an explanation and an apology...regardless of if he gets mad at me. He kinda needs to be alive for me to do that.” I tossed a duffel bag to Sam and he smirked at the fully stocked go bag. “Keep it to yourself, Sasquatch. We’ve got some vamps to kill.”

We parked the car about half a mile from the abandoned warehouse that the vamps had holed up in and quietly walked the remaining distance. I groaned as we came up on it, it’s silhouette dark against the moonlit sky. “Why do they always choose the most disgusting places to hide?”

Sam smiled, “You sound like Dean.” He nodded his head to the left and motioned for me to follow. We crept around the side of the building and Sam held his hand up to stop me. He cautiously peered through the window above us. “I see him,” he whispered.

“Is he okay?” I grimaced at how stupid that sounded.

Sam looked down at me, “Well, he’s tied to a chair and he looks like shit, but he’s in one piece. So...yea?” He looked back through the window, but dropped suddenly and pressed his back against the wall, yanking me down with him. “Okay, so we managed to kill quite a few of them, but there’s at least four more in there.” He grimaced and I put a hand on his shoulder.

“Are you sure you can do this? I can take out four vamps on my own, you’re not in any shape to try…”

Sam rolled his eyes, “You’ve been out of the game for a decade. No offense, Y/N, but unless you’ve been training for absolutely no reason, I don’t think it’s a good idea. We’re both going in. There’s a back door we can use, come on.”

I grumbled under my breath, but couldn’t deny that he was right. “Okay, fine. Lead the way.” We snuck along the side of the building and around to the back where a large steel door blocked our way inside. Sam grabbed the handle and pulled and almost immediately hit the ground.

“Dammit,” he ground out, his hand instinctively reaching for his injured ribs.

I knelt down in front of him, “Sam, I’ve got this. Keep an ear out, and if we need anything I’m sure you’ll hear me. Okay?” I pulled out both of my machetes and grinned, “Besides, it’s been awhile since I’ve had a nice decapitation. I’m about due.” Sam looked up at me, worry lines between his eyebrows, and I couldn’t help but give him a quick kiss on the top of his head. “I’ll be fine, kiddo. I’m gonna go save your idiot brother.”

I pulled the door open as quietly as I could and slipped inside. Sam’s muffled “We’re the same freakin’ age” comment made me smile as I stalked the dark hallways, looking for the room Dean was being kept in. I stopped short of the doorway I thought would take me to him when I heard voices on the other side of the wall.

I chanced a quick look around the corner and saw two men standing with their backs turned towards me. I took a deep breath and hoped that my upper body strength was as good as it used to be. I tightened my grip on both machetes and crept up behind both without them noticing. In one swift motion I swung both machetes at the same time and connected with their necks with a sickening crunch. Although their heads were still attached, it had been enough to knock them to the floor. I pulled the machetes free and gave each of them another wack, then kicked their heads away from their bodies. Two down, two to go.

I walked through the doorway on the other side of the room and heard more voices, one unfamiliar and one that was.

“Where’s your brother?” Silence followed the question, then a resounding crack as skin hit skin, hard.

I heard Dean spit, “Go to hell.”

The unfamiliar voice laughed, “From what I’ve heard, you’ve already been there. You Winchesters have a habit of getting out of it though.” I peeked around the corner to see a man wearing leather pants and a vest with no shirt under it standing in front of Dean, his hands on the chair’s arms, and practically in Dean’s face. To his right, an equally disgusting woman stood, her long red hair dirty and tangled and her arms crossed. They looked far worse off than most vampires did, which meant that they were probably hungry, and not as strong as they could have been. I looked around the room for another way in.

“Yea, well, I guess it just doesn't stick.” I could see Dean’s hands as they worked at the knot. “Why do you want us, anyway?”

“Bartering chip. There's a few hunters out there willing to make us a deal: Letting us live in peace in exchange for the men who keep trying to destroy the world. You'd be surprised what some of them are willing to overlook to get revenge.”

I didn't have to be able to see to know that Dean rolled his eyes. “Do you really think they'll let you live? You're even more stupid than I thought. They're lying to you.”

“Oh, and you'll do them one better? Let me live in exchange for your life?”

Dean laughed, “Oh, no, not at all. I fully intend on killing your ass the moment I get out of this chair. I can promise to make it quick though, your girlfriend, too.”

The vampire laughed and shoved away from Dean’s chair, “Nah, I think we’ll take our chances. The bounty on a Winchester is worth it.”

Just as I moved to head down the side hallway I had spotted, someone grabbed my by the arms and forced them behind me. Both machetes hit the ground with an echoing clang. Hot breath caressed my ear, and I shrank away from the dank smell. “Hello, sweetheart. A little off on your headcount, huh?” He shoved me out into the middle of the room, and the vamp that was interrogating Dean looked up.

“What do we have here?” The one that caught me shoved me forward to the middle of the room, and I fell to my knees in front of Dean. His face was bloody and swollen, but he still managed to wink at me when we made eye contact. What a cocky bastard. “What a pretty girl...is she yours, Dean?”

I glared at him, “I'm not anybody's.” He knelt in front of me, and I could hear Dean struggling against the chair.

“If you lay a hand on her, I swear to God I will kill you!” Dean nearly roared.

The vampire laughed as he looked over his shoulder at Dean, “God doesn't have anything to do with this. And I can't promise anything, she smells...delicious.” He turned back to me and smiled, his vampire teeth sliding down over his human ones. “Now, normally I would just get you out of the way...we are really very hungry, and you just seem scrumptious, but...you're too pretty for that. Maybe I'll just turn you instead.” He leaned in, and I could feel his teeth grazing my throat. I looked over his shoulder and Dean was rocking back and forth in his chair, fighting against his restraints with wide eyes.

I was letting him get too close, and the moment I felt his teeth pierce the skin it occurred to me that I might have pushed my luck too far. Luckily for me, they weren't the sharpest tools in the shed and they hadn't checked my boots. I managed to get my knife out of my ankle holster and, with a wink at Dean, jammed it into the vampire’s neck. He screamed, but before he could move I grabbed him by the hair and stabbed him several more times. I heard a high pitched squeal and was thrown across the room, closer to where Dean was sitting. The vampire that had dragged me into the room headed straight towards me, but before he got to me Dean stood suddenly and slammed the chair into him.

The chair burst into pieces and shards of wood rained down around us. Dean shook the rope from his arms and managed to grab the man by his shirt and rammed him head first into the wall. I scrambled back to where I'd dropped the machetes, but was suddenly yanked backwards painfully by my hair. “Dammit!” I growled as I swept my leg back and caught the red headed vampire around the ankles. She hit the floor hard and I managed to untangle myself, then kicked her hard in the face as I dove back towards the machetes.

A shot rang out in the large, empty room and I looked up to see Sam standing in the opposite door, the Colt in his hand and the original vampire that I had stabbed lying dead in the floor. “Dean!” I shouted and slid the machete across the floor to him. I picked mine up and, in sync, we swung, and the dull thud of two heads hitting the floor marked the end of the fight. I stood, gasping, and slowly looked up to see Dean looking back at me, his chest heaving.

He dropped the machete and crossed the room in large strides until he was right in front of me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” It came out almost a whisper. It had been ten long years since I'd stood this close to him.

“Thanks for saving my ass.” His eyes traveled from mine down to my lips then back up. I felt a chill run down my spine as I watched his tongue sneak out to wet his lips.

I shrugged, “No big deal. Not like that's changed after all these years.” He reached up slowly and ran the pad of his thumb across my cheek.

“You had..umm...a little something on your cheek.”

I hummed back in response, “Your whole face is a mess.”

He grinned, “You were always a charmer.” He tilted his head to take a look at my neck and frowned. “You're bleeding.”

I put a hand to where I could feel blood trickling and grimaced, “Oh...yea. He got a little bitey.” Dean moved his hand to cover mine and locked eyes with me.

“You should really be more careful,” he whispered as he moved in close enough that our lips brushed.

“You should try not getting kidnapped by vampires.” I could feel him smile against me, and I felt warmth spread through me. Dean Winchester always had that effect on me, I wasn't surprised. But it was a nice change from the last time I saw him. “Are you going to kiss me, Winchester, or are you going to keep stalling?”

He closed the space between us, and it felt like no time had passed at all. We molded together perfectly, like we were made to fit each other. His lips moved in sync with mine, and when his tongue swept along my bottom lip, I opened up to him. He tasted like I remembered; whiskey and mint, with a hint of coffee.

The sound of Sam clearing his throat interrupted us, and though we pulled apart, we stayed close, our foreheads touching. “Dean, we need to talk.”

He nodded gently, “I figured as much.” I felt his fingers curl around mine, and I squeezed his hand tightly. “Are you...I mean, will you come back with us?”

I pulled back and looked at him in confusion, “Back where? Which hotel are you staying in?”

Dean shook his head, “Not a hotel. Come home with us. We...we have a place now. I mean, I understand if you don't want to, you've got a life now-”

I silenced him with another kiss, then turned and began walking towards the exit, my hand still in Dean’s. “I think it's about time I go where I belong. Take me home, Dean Winchester.”

“What made you change your mind?” he asked, confused.

I looked over my shoulder at him and grinned, “Well, you're freakin’ adorable, for starters.”

Forever Tags: @trexrambling @pinknerdpanda  @wheresthekillswitch @emilywritesaboutdean @arryn-nyxx @emptywithout @escabell @charliebradbury1104 @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes  @deanssweetheart23  @canadianjelly @super-not-naturall @aubreyreadsstuff @dean-winchesters-baby @melissaj616 @fandomismyspiritanimal @keepcalmandcarryondean @assbutt-still-in-hell @owllover123 @rosie-winchester @amionthetumbler @duubaduu @hiimaprofessionalfangirl @goldenolaf25 @authoressskr @nanie5 @mrssamfuckingwinchester @zincomms @kathaswings @crazynerdandproud @barbedwireandbubblegum @sandlee44 @boxywrites @justanotherdeangirl @smalltowndivaj @captainradicalpassion

[amanda-teaches]

Better than a Dream

Summary: Dean gets trapped in a fantasy created by a djinn. Will the fantasy help him realize the truth about his feelings for the reader before it’s too late?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 3707

Warnings: A lot of fluff, Dean has to get out of the djinn dream by killing himself (because that’s how it’s done), so possible suicide trigger warning

A/N: This is for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog Romcom Fluff Challenge. My prompt was from Leap Year. Well, when my 60 seconds came around, I realized I had everything I ever wanted, but nothing I really needed. And I think that what I need is here. And I came all this way to see if maybe you might think so too. Huge shoutout to @cyrilconnelly for betaing this for me and giving me the title and @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester for reading it over.

“Dean, these burritos are amazing! I mean, I knew you made great burgers, but I never knew you could make such amazing Mexican food!”

Dean leaned down to whisper gruffly in Y/N’s ear, his breath tickling her in the process. “I’m a man of many talents, Y/N.”

“Oh, I’m sure you are,” she whispered back suggestively, drawing a laugh out of him. They stood up and made their way over to the sink with the dishes, laughing and nudging each other as they went. When they got there, Dean reached around Y/N to grab a towel, but she got to it first and held it just out of reach, laughing as she did. He looked at her menacingly before moving in to tickle her until she doubled over with laughter and surrendered, handing him the towel.

They were so caught up in their own little world, they didn’t even notice when the sound of Dean’s ringing phone started drifting in from the other room. They also didn’t notice Sam giving in with a roll of his eyes and getting up to answer it, sighing as he did. “Man, those two couldn’t be any more obvious….”

As he left to answer the phone, Y/N and Dean finished the dishes. When they were done, they moved into the library where they found Sam waiting for them. “Hey,” he said, turning to face them. “Bobby called.”

“Oh yeah?” Y/N asked, moving away from Dean and flopping down into a chair. She curled her foot underneath her and crossed her arms across her midsection. “What’d he say?”

“You know how he took that case over in London?” Sam paused and waited for two of them to nod before continuing. “Well, apparently, it’s gone a little sideways. He might need a little help.”

Dean froze, his whole body tensing and his heart pounding. “Bobby needs help? In London?!”

“Yes,” Sam said carefully and calmly, sensing Dean’s growing panic. “But, Y/N and I can handle it. You should stay.”

“Yeah,” Y/N echoed, moving to stand by Dean’s side. She reached out and touched his arm, instantly calming his racing heartbeat. “Or, better yet, I’ll fly out there by myself and Sam can stay here too. I’m sure Bobby and I can handle whatever it is. We don’t need the whole team.”

“Yeah, okay,” Dean said. He took a deep breath. “That sounds like a good plan. You fly to London and we stay here. On the ground. Where they aren’t any planes. Yeah. Good.”

“Good,” Y/N whispered, with a smile. “I’ll go pack.”

“Okay.” Dean returned her smile as he watched her walk out of the room. He turned back to Sam, who was watching him with a smile. “What?”

“Nothing,” Sam replied with a laugh and a shake of his head.

Dean frowned and crossed his arms. “What, Sammy?”

“Nothing!” Dean’s glare deepened, pushing Sam to give in. “It’s just you and Y/N.”

“What about me and Y/N?” he growled.

“It’s just nice to see the two of you together. That’s all. You both deserve to be happy.”

Dean shook his head and raised his eyebrows in confusion. “What the hell are you talking about, Sammy?”

“Hey, you don’t have to get all defensive about it. It’s ok. I love Y/N. If the two of you want to be together….”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Dean yelled, putting his hands up in the air. “Y/N and I aren’t ‘together’. We’re just friends.”

Sam smiled knowingly. “Oh sure, Dean. So, you’re really going to pretend that that thing in the kitchen was just two friends?”

“Yes!”

Sam continued to smile as he sat down at the table in front of his laptop. “Whatever you say, Dean. But, just so you know, even though Y/N and I are best friends, she’s never acted that way with me.”

Dean opened his mouth but closed it again right away. He couldn’t argue that he didn’t have feelings for Y/N, because of course he did. How could he not? She was gorgeous. But, more than that, she was smart, caring, thoughtful, and…perfect. Y/N was perfect. Way too perfect for a guy like him.

“Sammy, nothing is going on between Y/N and me. She’s amazing, yeah, but I’m, well, I’m me.”

Sam looked up from his computer, understanding and compassion filling his eyes. “Dean…”

“Look, I tried that relationship thing once,” Dean said, his face falling. “It didn’t work out. I’m not going to risk putting Y/N through the same thing just because I’m attracted to her.”

“Dean, you’re more than just attracted to her. Besides, you deserve to be happy. You both do. Don’t you want that?”

Dean drew in a breath and let it out roughly. Then he lifted his chin with resolve. “I have everything I want, Sammy. An awesome house, great wheels, good friends, and all the beer and pie I can eat. What more could I ask for?”

He turned away before Sam could argue the point further. He and Y/N were just fine the way they were. He didn’t want or need anything more from her. He couldn’t.

But, no matter how much he told himself that, there’s was always a little voice in the back of his head that wondered if he would ever truly believe it.

Y/N had been in London for two days, and Sam and Dean were already going stir crazy without her. She had become such a big part of both of their lives over the years that it felt strange not having her around. Almost foreign. So, they did what they always did when they needed a distraction: they found a case.

“So what’re we thinking?” Dean asked, as he cruised the Impala down the road. “Vamp nest?”

Sam looked down at the papers he was holding in his hands. “No bite marks. I’m thinking more like a Djinn.”

Dean shuddered. “Those blue man group knockoffs? Seriously?” he asked, looking over at Sam for confirmation.

Sam laughed gently. “Yeah, all signs point to it.”

“Fan-freaking-tastic….” Dean grumbled. “So, we’re looking for a dark, creepy warehouse like last time?”

“Maybe, maybe not. There’s some caves outside town. The djinn could be there.”

“Back to basics. I like it,” Dean declared. He stepped a little harder on the accelerator. “Well, let’s go put that genie back in its bottle.”

Two hours later, Sam and Dean were standing just inside the cave entrance, holding silver knives dipped in lambs blood. They were facing two different tunnels, both of them leading deeper into the cave.

Dean turned to Sam and grinned. “Pick your poison, Sammy. Left or right?”

Sam gestured towards the tunnel on the left. “I’ll take this one and you can take the other one. We’ll meet back here in 20 minutes.”

Dean nodded and started towards the tunnel on the right, but he stopped and turned back when Sam called his name. “Dean? Be safe.”

Dean nodded again, more soberly this time. “You too, Sammy.”

With that last little bit of familiar reassurance, they both took off, heading down the tunnels with their knives at the ready. Dean moved more slowly, remembering what had happened last time they faced a djinn. He measured each step down the dirt-covered pathway, his eyes scanning the darkness for any threats. He had almost made it to the turn at the end of the tunnel when he heard a scream coming from back where he’d started.

“Sam!” Dean yelled. He pivoted in a half-circle to run back down the passageway, but, before he could, he was hit from the side by something strong and solid. It knocked the breath right out of him and the knife right out of his hand. Before he could recover, the figure was on him, pressing its hands to his face. He just barely made out a tattooed arm and a steady blue glow before everything went black.

Dean woke up, breathing heavily, and looked around. He was lying in a bed in what he recognized as his and Lisa’s old bedroom. “What the hell?” he whispered.

He stood up from the bed and grabbed a pair of jeans off the floor. He pulled them on before adding a Led Zeppelin t-shirt he somehow knew would be in the nearby dresser. Once he was dressed he sat down on the edge of the bed to think.

“So, the djinn gave me back my life with Lisa. Well, joke’s on him,” he muttered with determination. “I was over Lisa a long time ago. It’ll be easy to leave this ‘fantasy’ life behind.”

He made his way out the door and down the stairs. He figured that the kitchen would have some knives that would make breaking out of this dream easy. One quick stab and he’d be back in that cave with Sam. Piece of cake.

His “piece of cake” plan went out the window the second he got to the kitchen and saw the familiar figure standing behind the counter with her back to him. It wasn’t Lisa: it was Y/N.

“Y/N?” he choked out, shock overwhelming him.

She whirled around and gifted him with one of her heart-stopping smiles. “Hey, babe. About time you woke up.”

“Babe?” he asked. What the hell was going on?

A thousand scenarios were running through Dean’s head, but none of them foresaw what Y/N was going to do next: she walked right up to him and kissed him with all the passion he had only dreamt she felt for him. His knees nearly buckled.

Once he had a chance to recover, he took control. He used his whole body to push Y/N backwards, not stopping until she was pressed up against the counter. He lifted her up and onto the edge, groaning at the sexy moan she emitted. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him closer, the passion building between them until it was scorching him. He ran his hand up her thigh and under the edge of her shirt. The feel of the soft skin there against his rough hand made him groan again, deeper this time. He pushed himself closer to her, his hands moving higher, before the sound of someone clearing their throat behind him made him stop.

He reluctantly pulled away from Y/N and spun around, shocked to find Sam standing there. “Sammy?”

“Hey, Dean. Sorry to, uh, interrupt. I just need to borrow my sister-in-law for a second.”

“Oh, God, Sam, I forgot,” Y/N muttered. She turned to Dean. “I promised Sam that I’d help him with some research for his doctoral thesis. I just have to go grab the printouts.” She smoothed her hair back down and hopped off the counter, giving Dean a quick kiss. “I’ll be right back and, then, we can pick up where we left off.”

He stared after Y/N as she bounded out of the room, his mouth hanging open in surprise. Sister-in-law? He and Y/N were married?! What the HELL was going on?

Sam looked at him quizzically, taking in his expression, and laughed. “You ok, man? You’re looking at Y/N really strangely.”

Dean shook his head and hid the confusion on his face. “Uh, yeah. Just a weird morning, that’s all.”

Sam was about to probe further when Y/N came back into the room with the papers. She started to talk to Sam, giving Dean the opportunity to look a little closer at her without either of them noticing. She was stunning, even more so than usual. She had her hair swept behind her shoulder, her gorgeous smile lighting up the entire room. She looked effortlessly beautiful, carefree, and….happy.

As if she could sense his gaze, she looked over at him and winked. It was in that moment that his whole world came into focus: he was the reason she was so happy. She was smiling because of him, she was happy because of him. Because they were together, because they were married.

But, it wasn’t real. None of this was. His heart dropped. She wasn’t smiling for him. She wasn’t even real. That wasn’t his Y/N. But, that didn’t stop him for wanting to hold her close and never let her go.

A few minutes later, Sam said goodbye and left, freeing up Y/N to turn towards him. “Now, where were we?” she whispered seductively as she made her way over to him.

She reached out to him, but he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. “Y/N, wait.”

“What is it?” she asked, bringing her other hand up to draw little circles on his chest, momentarily distracting him.

He took a deep breath to will himself to focus and looked down at her. “Y/N, this is all wrong.”

She stopped drawing the circles and met his gaze, concern in her eyes. “What do you mean wrong?”

“I mean this. All of this,” he yelled, gesturing at the house around him, “it’s all wrong. None of it’s real.”

“Dean, what are you talking about?”

He took her hands and squeezed them gently. “Y/N, I know this is going to sound crazy, but this whole thing, this house, this world, none of it is real. It’s just a fantasy a djinn put me in.”

Y/N raised her eyebrows. “A djinn?”

“Yeah. It’s like a second-rate genie. An evil second-rate genie.”

“A genie?” she asked uncertainly.

“Yes. And, he created this world to trap me so that he could kill me. I’m in danger every second I stay here.”

“Okay…let’s say I believe you,” she said cautiously, pulling her hands from his. “In this world of yours, do I exist?”

“Yes. We’ve worked together for years.”

She raised her eyebrows again. “Are we married?”

“No. We’re, uh, we’re just friends.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Why?”

“Wait, what?”

“You heard me, Winchester. Why aren’t we together? We love each other, don’t we?”

Dean shook his head and ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “It’s complicated, Y/N. Our life is different there. Riskier. Our job doesn’t leave a lot of room for happy endings.”  

“Dean, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He sighed. “Look, I know it doesn’t make any sense, but I just need you to trust me.”

“Okay.”

“Y/N, please….Wait. What’d you say?”

She smiled. “I said, okay. I may not know what the heck you’re talking about, but I love you and trust you. And, if you’re in danger, I’ll do whatever I can to help you. So, how do we stop this, what’d you call it? A gin?”

A menacing voice boomed out from behind Y/N, startling both of them. “You don’t.”

Dean reacted with lightning speed, pushing Y/N behind him so his body blocked her from the man standing in the doorway. “Let me guess. You’re the djinn here to protect your little fantasy world with some cliche threats. How original.”

The man smiled darkly and walked closer. Dean slowly backed up as he advanced, guarding Y/N as he did so. “It’s more than just a simple threat, Dean. You’re not getting out of here. Besides, why would you want to? I’ve given you the perfect world.”

Dean felt Y/N’s hand touch his back, and he thought of the real Y/N, his Y/N. It gave him the push he needed and he laughed. “You think this is perfect? Ha! Somebody has an inflated opinion of themselves. That bed wasn’t even memory foam!”

The man rolled his eyes. “Stop with the deflection, Dean. You’re not going to be able to distract me with a bunch of corny one-liners.” Suddenly, a clap of thunder boomed outside, shaking the entire house. “This is my reality. I control it, not you.”

“Not for long,” Dean growled. “All I have to do is kill myself, and then you have no power.”

Panic flashed in the djinn’s eyes before he covered it back up with pride. “But, why would you want to? Here, you and Y/N can be together. You can live out your lives happily. Why would you want to give that up?”

Dean felt Y/N’s hand tighten around his shirt. “Because it’s not real. But, you’re right about one thing: my perfect life is with Y/N. My Y/N. And, I’m going to do whatever I need to do to get back to her.”

He rushed forward and tackled the djinn, throwing him against a wall and knocking him out. When he turned back around, Y/N was standing in front of him, holding a kitchen knife. Before he could question her, she held it out to him, handle first. “Take it.”

“What are you doing?”

She smiled and walked up to him, taking his hand and placing the knife in it. “I believe you now. And, if what you said is true, that means I’m not real. But there’s a real version of me out there, right?” Dean nodded. “And, you love her? Real me, I mean.” Dean nodded again, drawing a relieved smile out of her. “Then, do it. And, when you get back to your world, I want to find me. Find us. Because, I love you, Dean, and I bet real me does too.”

Dean smiled and leaned down to give her one last kiss. He could hear the djinn stirring behind him, so he knew he needed to act fast. “I love too, Y/N. I promise you that I’m not gonna waste any more time.”

With one last look into her beautiful eyes, Dean found the strength he needed to thrust the knife into his chest, plunging the world back into darkness.

When Dean came to, he was still lying in the cave’s tunnel, with the djinn standing over him. “It’s impossible,” the djinn whispered. “No one’s ever gotten out so fast.”

“Yeah?” Dean growled, propping himself up on his elbow. “Well, don’t I feel special.”

He rolled onto his stomach, using his momentum to propel himself over to where his silver knife laid, in the same place it had been knocked to in the fight. Before the djinn could stop him, he flipped up into a crouch and stabbed the knife right into the djinn’s heart, killing it instantly. He pushed the dead body away before standing up fully and wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Dean!” Sam’s frantic cry sounded from somewhere in the distance.

“Over here!”

Sam’s hurried footsteps grew closer until he finally appeared around the corner. “Dean! What happened?”

“The djinn got me.”

Sam looked him over quickly before addressing him. “Are you ok?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t under very long. But….”

“But, what?”

He grinned again. “I’m gonna need to use your computer. I’ve got a ticket I need to buy.”

Y/N was sitting on the bed in her hotel room in London, thumbing through some brochures the hotel had provided. She wasn’t particularly interested in anything she was finding, but she was bored and she had nothing better to do.

She and Bobby had wrapped up the case a few hours ago, and he had flown out right afterwards. But, there weren’t any flights back to Kansas until the morning, so she was stuck here for one more night. She had originally reveled in having a night alone without any men taking up her space, but, after ordering room service and taking a bath, she had run out of fun things to do. So, now, she was just sitting there, looking at boring brochures.

She was about to give up and turn on some trash TV when a knock sounded at her door. She wasn’t expecting anyone, so she grabbed her gun off the nightstand and cautiously approached the door. “Who is it?”

“Y/N, it’s Dean. Open up.”

“Dean?” she whispered skeptically under her breath. She stashed her gun but pulled her holy water from her pocket before she opened the door. As soon as she did, she surprised Dean by throwing holy water right into his face.

“Hey!” he yelled loudly. He sputtered and wiped the water off his face.

“Sorry,” she whispered, flashing him an apologetic smile. “But, you can never be too careful.” She opened the door wider to let him in. “What are you doing here, Dean?”

“I needed to talk to you,” he said, brushing past her and heading towards the middle of the room.

“In London? Dean, you’re afraid of flying.”

“It couldn’t wait.” He turned around and faced her, surprising her with the intensity in his gaze. “I was attacked by a djinn.”

“Wait, what?” Y/N yelled, her eyes widening. She moved closer to him. “What happened? Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” he said with a smile. “But, being trapped in that djinn reality made me realize something important about my life.” He reached out and grabbed her hand, pulling her towards him gently. “About our life.”

She held her breath and stared up at him, her heart beating faster. “Y/N, I’m in love with you.”

“You’re…you’re what?” she stammered, completely shocked at what she had just heard. She had to grip tighter onto his hand just to stay standing.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. Before this happened, I thought I could ignore it. I thought we’d both be better off staying friends, but I can’t ignore it anymore. When I was faced with the choice to stay in the djinn reality or leave it, I had to make a quick decision: to stay in the life I’d always wanted or to come back here to you.”

“And, you came back?”

Dean grinned. “Well, when my 60 seconds came around, I realized I had everything I ever wanted, but nothing I really needed. And I think that what I need is here. And I came all this way to see if maybe you might think so too.”

“You took a plane all the way here just to tell me that?”

“Y/N, I love you. I’d take ten planes if that’s what it took to be with you.”

Y/N smiled and moved closer to Dean, placing her hands on his chest. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, leaning his head down towards hers. “I love you, too, Dean,” she whispered before their lips met, solidifying their commitment to each other. And, no matter how passionate his fantasy kiss with Y/N had been, it didn’t compare to this. This kiss lived up to all of Dean’s dreams. It made his legs nearly buckle all over again. Nothing could beat the real Y/N. Nothing at all.

Forevers- @hamartiamacguffin @mrsdeanfuckingwinchester @katymacsupernatural @impandagrl @cyrilconnelly @damnandriel-in-hell @impala-dreamer @castielhasthetardis @jarpadandjensenaremyheroes @shotgunintheimpala 

Dean Tags- @akshi8278

[because-imma-lady-assface]

Mel Brooks: Nightmare Cure

A/N: This is my entry for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge. My prompt was “Wow. There’s the cynical bitch we know and love.” from Someone Like You (it’s bolded in the fic) Congrats on your milestone and thanks for letting me be a part of this fun challenge!

Big thanks to @impala-dreamer for the beta. Hope you guys enjoy! Please let me know what ya think ;)

Dean x Reader

Warnings: like 4 swear words, 1 nightmare, but I swear it’s fluffy!!!

Words: 790

~

“DEEEAAAAANNNN HELP!”

“Shit!” Dean shot out of his chair in the library as soon as he heard your scream tear through the Bunker. You hadn’t had a nightmare in so long sometimes he forgot you ever had. He let his guard down, and now you were hurting because of it.

When he reached the room the two of you shared, his heart stopped. Your screams hadn’t woken you up fully, so he knew this was a bad one. Slowly approaching your thrashing body, he firmly said your name over and over. He’d learned the hard way not to startle you; he had been on the business end of flying fists and elbows, and got blackened eyes and bloody noses to prove it.

“Y/N, baby c’mon, time to wake up. Y/N...Y/N.”

By the time he reached the bed, his voice had calmed you enough to still your body. As you felt his arms wrap around you and pull you to him, you woke. Focusing on his steady breaths, you slowly calmed down enough to turn in his arms.

“I’m ok.”

“Usual?”

“Yeah.” They always were. The nightmares that had plagued you for so long were all of one night years ago.

“Go shower, I’ll get the snacks.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Y/N.”

“What about Sam? You shouldn’t leave him all alone with the research. It’s bad enough I bailed earlier.”

“I’ve ditched research for way less important stuff. He’ll be just fine.” Untangling himself from you, he pressed a kiss to your lips, and stood. “Now. Salty or sweet?”

“Both. Obviously.”

“That’s my girl.”

This was the routine. After a bad one you’d shower, then watch Mel Brooks movies while curled up against Dean. The nightmares were rarely discussed, the two of you just watched silly movies until the remnants of the dream were far enough in the back of your mind that sleep could overtake you once more.

Throwing your hair up, you started the shower and stepped under the spray. Washing your face and body quickly, you were in and out in five minutes. As you stepped out, you wrapped a towel around your body and started heading back. A bundle of clothes sitting on the sink caught your eye and as you walked closer you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face.

Dean.

You grabbed the shorts he left and slipped them on, and looked at the ancient flannel he brought. It was your favorite, broken in and impossibly soft. It smelled like Dean as you buttoned it. He rarely wore it anymore, it had a hole in the armpit that opened no matter how many times you tried to close it, one of the pockets was torn and hanging free on one corner, covered in stains from working on the Impala or hunts gone bad, but you loved it, so he kept it.

You met him in the hall just before your room, his arms full of food and a six-pack. “Thanks for the clothes.”

He didn’t say anything, just shot you a wink and motioned for you to head inside.

Halfway through Young Frankenstein, you sat up fully and turned to face him. “Do you think I’m cynical?”

“Wha?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the stunned look on his face, mouth full of popcorn, eyes looking you over, trying to figure out if it was a trick question.

“The dreams. In them, well I guess not just in them because it happened, but at one point that night the demon said, ‘Wow. There’s the cynical bitch we know and love.’ when I came to, and I just-I guess it’s always bothered me. Am I cynical?”

“That’s what sticks with you? Really?”

“Answer the question!”

“No. I do not think you are cynical. Sarcastic? Yes. Snarky? Probably. I don’t get cynical though.”

“Snarky? That’s the same thing!”

“No it isn’t.”

“They are too!”

The next thing you knew, the bowl of popcorn in your lap went flying as Dean flipped you on your back. Hovering over you, he grabbed your wrists, holding your arms flush with the mattress above your head, and started pressing quick kisses all over your face.

“Do I need to go get a dictionary? Or are you just going to trust me on this?”

“Dean!”

“Yes or no, Y/N?” Pressing his lips to yours, he stole any chance you had at answering. When he finally pulled back, he smiled and quirked an eyebrow. “Well?”

“No...I can think of a few things I’d rather you did right now.” Biting your bottom lip, you lifted your hips to meet his. “And not a one has to do with a dictionary.”

Tags:

All of the Things: @amanda-teaches @casownsmyass @codexofwitches @emilypkuzu @feelmyroarrrr @hexparker @ilsawasanacrobat @lynnebla @muliermalefici @skymoonandstardust @the-winchesterboys

Supernatural Things: @bradygabrielle-blog @impala-dreamer @holisticdean @mrsbatesmotel53 @myplaceofthingsilove

Dean Things: @akshi8278 @jessilliam-caronday

[whatareyousearchingfordean]

Bullshit

Summary: Dean and the reader have a family game night with Sam and Mary

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1.3K+

Warnings: Language, fluff, angst (if you squint), implied smut

Author’s Note: Hey guys, this is my entry for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog ‘s Rom Com Fluff Challenge. My challenge came from one of my favorite scenes from one of my favorite rom coms, How to Lose a Guy In 10 Days. My challenge; “You see, the key to this game is knowing how to read people.” (bold) I had a lot of fun with this and loved doing a little bit of fluff for once. Set in season 12.

My Masterlist

 Dean quickly pressed a peck to your lips. Then another, and another. You scratched your nails through the hair at the nape of his neck as he peppered kisses all over your face. Dean’s hands wandered up your legs that were draped over his lap.

“Sam?! Dean?!” The two of you snapped apart as Mary’s voice filtered through the bunker. You wiped your thumb over your lip as she came into the kitchen where you guys were nestled.

“Hey Mom, what’s that?” Dean nodded his head towards the bags in her hands. Mary narrowed her eyes, a slight smile appearing on her face as she took in the scene of the two of you.

“I brought pizza and beer. I thought we could have a little night in.” She finally answered. She set the items in her hands on the table. Dean instantly reached for the beers, grabbing two. He popped the caps off and handed one to you.

“We haven’t seen or heard from you in a while,” Dean began, slightly short and gruff. You squeezed his thigh, gently warning him to be nice. “I just mean, why now?” He glanced apologetically at you and took a swig of his beer.

“I know. That’s why I’m here.” Mary smiled sheepishly at both Dean and you. Dean opened his mouth to talk but you decided to speak first.

“Well Mary, I think that’s great. Why don’t I go get Sam?” You moved to get up, but Sam’s voice stopped you in your tracks.

“No need. I heard mom yelling for us. What’s going on?”

“Mom brought pizza and beer. She thought we could have a ‘night in’.” Dean locked eyes with his brother. Sam cocked his head. The brothers shared a look then Sam grabbed a beer without another word.

“I got the plates.” You hoped up from your spot on Dean’s lap and headed for the cabinets. You gathered a few into your arms and turned to find Dean gone from the kitchen. Your heart sank. You knew Dean would be having a hard time with this, but you didn’t think he would run so fast. Mary smiled up at you as you set the plates down and went to look for Dean. You weren’t even through the entry when you nearly stepped on Dean’s toes.

“Hey,” You murmured softly, placing a hand on Dean’s chest. “You okay.”

“Yeah,” Dean nodded. “Yes. Just grabbing a deck of cards.” He showed the pack in his hand to you.

“Okay.” You smiled stepping up on your toes and kissing Dean’s cheek. He slipped an arm around your waist and guided you back to the table. Dean dropped the cards and grabbed a couple slices of pizza.

“What’s this Dean, you want to lose to your mom at poker.” Mary quipped. A chuckle fell from Sam’s lips as you snorted. You reached for the pizza as Dean playfully glared at you.

“No. I was thinking we could play something else. It’s similar to poker. It’s called bullshit.” Dean pulled the cards from the box and began shuffling them.

“Bullshit? Never heard of it.” Mary took a small bite.

“Yeah okay, so we deal out the whole deck and then go around in a circle placing our cards in the center face down. We start with two’s all the way through the ace and then start again. You say what you are putting down and you have to put something down every time even if you don’t have what is next. Now, other players can call you out if they think you are lying by saying ‘Bullshit’. If you did lie, you have to pick up the entire deck but if you didn’t then whoever called you out has to pick up the deck. It’s kinda like poker. You see, the key to this game, is knowing how to read people. First one to get rid of all of their cards wins.” Dean explained the game as he dealt out the cards.

You scooted across the bench, making a little more room between Dean and yourself. You picked up the pile of cards in front of you and fanned them out, taking note of each one in your hand. Dean flashed you a mischievous smile before laying down two cards, and starting the game.

 ****

“Two sixes.” Mary quipped as she set down two cards. She barely looked up from the cards in her hand. She was damn good at this and though you never played her, you assumed she was good at poker too.  You glanced at Sam.

“One seven.” He frowned as he laid down his card in the center. Sammy was always easy to read. He was currently the one with the most cards in his hand, so you figured he was probably telling the truth. Besides, you really needed to defeat Dean, he had three cards left in his hand and it was imperative now more than ever that you crushed his ego.

“Two eights.” Your voice rose slightly as you set down two eights. Dean stared at you, trying to read your face. He has been wanting to call you out all night that much you could tell. But he never did, and why, you weren’t sure.

The corner of Dean’s lip turned up ever so slightly as he picked two cards in his hand and placed them in the center pile. He looked straight at you and said as evenly as possible, “Two nines.”  You held Dean’s stare, not willing to look away, he had to break first. And he did, casting his eyes back to his mother. You took your chance to look at Sam, who brought his hand to his ear, gently tugging at it twice. He had two nines in his hand. You had none, so it was up to Mary to have one in her hand.

You looked to Mary, who scratched he nose, once. Dean was lying.

“Bullshit.” You said softly.

“I’m sorry what?” Dean turned towards you. He was trying to remain cocky that he hadn’t just lied, but you could hear the slight falter in his voice as he realized he had been had.

“You heard me, I said ‘bullshit’.” You emphasized that last word. Dean nostrils flared slightly as he picked up the cards he had set down, turning them over to reveal one nine and one king.

“What is that now Dean? Three times?”

“Yeah yeah.” He mumbled as he tried to arrange the now large stack in his hands.

“I guess the key is ‘knowing how to read people’.” Sam mocked his voice. Dean threw his brother a glare.

“Fine then,” He rifled through his cards a little and grabbed three of them, laying them in the center of the table. “Three tens.” He pouted as he continued arranging the cards in his hand. You looked up for help from your partners in crime. Sam tugged his ear, indicating one and you chanced a glance at Mary. But Dean looked up at you then, following your gaze to Mary, who scratched her nose. You looked away quickly hoping Dean didn’t notice.

“Bullshit.” You quipped, your voice coming out high and unsure or yourself. But the light bulb went off over Dean’s head and you knew the jig was up.

“Bullshit?” He threw his cards down on the table and pointed to Sam, who burst into laughter. “Bullshit momma.” He continued his pointing at Mary, sending the whole table into fits of laughter.

“Betrayed by my own family? I have no one to trust now. Cas is my only family.” Dean smiled down at the table. “And you.” He cast his glance your way. “How dare you?” Dean lunged for you, gripping your hips tightly and throwing you over his shoulder. Your cards dropped to the floor as you attempted to steady yourself.

“I’m just gonna have to teach you a lesson.” Dean growled and playfully swatted your ass. You erupted into a fit of giggles as Dean carried you out of the kitchen. The last thing you heard was a small protest from Sam.

“Dude, come on?”

[georgialouisea]

Taxi back from hell.

Pairing - Dean x Reader  Characters - Dean, Rose (ofc), Ron (omc), Unnamed man. Word Count - 1000  Warnings - Swearing, minor character death.  Summary - 

A/N - written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog ‘s #mimi’s rom-com fluff challenge. The quote was “don’t worry if you’re going to hell, I'll just come pick you up.” Which is in bold in the fic.

Walking your best friend Rose into the restaurant you looked around for her date.

“I’m not sure about this.” Rose grabbed your hand and stopped you as her eyes searched yours for a sign she could ditch the date you’d set her up on.

“It’s going to be okay, trust me he’s really nice, I've worked with him for years.” You reassured as you encouraged her to step towards the waiter who was ready to seat you both.

“How can I help you?” He smiled as he glanced between the two of you.

“Go on, I’ll be at the bar if you need me.”

“Okay, and if I need to leave I can text you and you will get me out of here?”

“Yup.”

“Okay… I love you.” You smiled at her as you watched her approach Ron the colleague you’d set her up with. Ron was a lovely man, so sweet and kind, exactly what she needed after her ex.

Sitting down at the bar you kept an eye on her from the room. Ordering a glass of wine you couldn't help but smile as you watched her, she needed this.

Shifting in your seat you pulled the hem of your dress down slightly, out of the corner of your eye you could see a man watching you. His eyes never left your body, for minutes he watched your every move even as you drank your wine he watched every sip you took.

“Can I help you?” You smiled at him as you felt really uneasy.

“Just admiring a pretty little thing.” He slurred.

“Well thank you, but please stop staring at me.” You gave him a warning look as you did you noticed the green eyed man who was sitting next to him, his eyes left yours as he smirked into his glass.

“Excuse me it's a compliment.” He spat as he slammed his glass on the bar.

“No, you’re making me uncomfortable.” You responded to his ‘compliment’, the man sat next to him had now vanished.

“Suit yourself bitch.”

“Hey babe, sorry I'm late.” A strangers voice spoke over your shoulder, as you turned the green eyed smirker from a few seconds ago was by your side. “Did I just hear you call my wife a bitch?” He questioned in such a menacing tone. As he spoke you switched your Mothers ring from your index to your ring finger, raising your hand to drink from your glass.

“You heard right sweetie.” You smiled up at the man as you played along.

“She’s not, she doesn't even have a ring…” He stopped as his eyes connected with your newly placed ring.

“I think you should leave.” The mystery man spoke as his hand rested on your back.

“I’m sorry. I didn't mean to offend, I've drunk too much.” The flirt apologised.

“Just don’t let me see your face around her again.” As your saviour threatened the flirt scurried away from you and your mystery man.

“Thank you.” You smiled at him as you offered him a seat next to you. “Let me buy you a drink.”

“No, I'll buy you one.” He protested.

“You helped me at least let me repay you.” As you spoke you motioned for the bartender to give Dean another.

“Thanks.” His smile made you melt, he was gorgeous. “Dean.” He offered you his hand.

“Y/N.”

“Nice thinking with the ring.” Dean nodded towards your hand as the bartender placed a glass of whisky before Dean.

“Oh yeah.” You moved the ring back to your index finger. “So what brings you here?”

“Drinking.” Dean winked as he drank. “You? On a date?”

“No, actually I’m here for my friend she’s on a date.” As you looked over Dean’s shoulder to where Rose was your heart stopped.

“What is it?” Dean asked as he followed your eyes.

“They’re gone.”

“Maybe they left?” Dean’s tone was calming yet it didn't help with your freak out.

“No she wouldn’t, her bag is still there.”

“Bathroom?”

“No, I, fuck … I’m going to hell, I shouldn't have pushed her into it.”

“Hey calm down we’ll find them. And don’t worry if you’re going to hell, I'll just come pick you up.” Dean winked as he slid off the chair and helped you off yours, grabbing enough cash from your purse you left it on the table as you took off with Dean.

“I’ll call her.” As you dialled her number her phone rang from her bag.

Checking the bathroom it was empty as Dean checked the men's.

“Outside,” Dean stated as he grabbed your hand and took you with him. You allowed yourself to get caught up in the situation, this could easily be a scheme to get you outside and alone. As Dean pulled you out of the restaurant your heels dug into the ground.

“Y/N?” Dean turned to face you as he let go of your hand. “Let’s go find your friend.”

“Dean, I …” You paused as your eyes squeezed shut willing yourself to think about this.

As you opened your mouth to speak a muffled scream came from the alley next to the restaurant. Dean took off at a run as he pulled a gun from somewhere. Who is he? Not allowing yourself a second longer to think about Dean you ran towards where he had just disappeared into the darkness.

Walking around the corner you weren't prepared for what you saw. Rose was sat leaning against a wall as her knees rested under her chin, on the ground before her was Ron’s lifeless body.

“Rose!” You ran to her as you coaxed her to look at you when she did you looked for the attacker. Dean had a man up against the wall with one hand as he pressed his phone to his ear with the other.

“I need an ambulance and the police, to the restaurant ‘Jackson’s’ there’s been a fatal attack,” Dean informed the operator as the murderer struggled against Dean’s restraint. With a few quick movements, Dean had the man pinned to the floor, in the moonlight you could see who it was, the man from earlier, the man Dean had saved you from.

The police and ambulance arrived checking on Rose who was fine other than a few cuts and soon to form bruises. The attacker was arrested as the coroners and more police arrived. You watched Dean throughout the whole process, he handled everything so well, he was a mystery.

“Hey, are you okay?” Dean asked as he ran a hand up and down your arm.

“Yes, are you?”

“I’m just fine, how’s your friend?”

“Well she’s going to hate me for a while, the first date she’s had in years and the guy gets killed.”

“It’s not your fault.” Dean smiled as his hand lingered on your arm.

“Who are you, Dean?” You asked with a smile.

“Just the man who’s going to be your taxi back from hell.” He winked as his hand found yours and gave it a squeeze. “Dinner tomorrow night?”

“Yeah but not here.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart.”

Forever Taglist - @mega-loser1298 @smalltowndivaj @roxyspearing

Dean Taglist - @akshi8278 @awesomestperson22

Taglist from SPN Fanfic Pond - @dr-dean @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @nichelle-my-belle @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @notnaturalanahi @salvachesterhale @impala-dreamer @deathtonormalcy56 @samsgoddess @spn-fan-girl-173 @deansleather @curliesallovertheplace @whywhydoyouwantmetosaymyname @waywardjoy @mrswhozeewhatsis @imadeangirl-butimsamcurious @kayteonline @supernatural-jackles @wevegotworktodo @jpadjackles @quiddy-writes @babypieandwhiskey @deantbh @deanwinchesterforpromqueen @chaos-and-the-calm67 @plaidstiel-wormstache @teamfreewill-imagine @chelsea-winchester @fandommaniacx @revwinchester @castieltrash1 @supernaturalyobessed @ruined-by-destiel @winchester-writes @deals-with-demons @maraisabellegrey @faith-in-dean @winchestersmolder @bennyyh @clueless-gold @deanwinchesterxreader @melbelle45 @winchester-family-business @4401lnc

[fangirlextraordinaire]

Forever Love

Pairing: John Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Word count: 1641

Summary: John died and your secret love went with him.  What happens when he’s brought back to life?

A/N: My first ever challenge fic! This was written for Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge over at @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog. My prompt was “Love is a bridge built between two people. We want what exists between them to be real” from the movie America’s Sweethearts.  Images from Google and credit goes to their owners.  Hope you like it!

John Winchester.

It was a name that struck fear in the hearts of all the creatures that go bump in the night. Well, it was, a few years ago before he struck that deal to save Dean. You and the boys had been devastated to lose him but you carried on his legacy by saving people and hunting things, their family business.

Your only regret was never being able to tell John how you felt. You were a few years older than Dean but still much younger than John when you started hunting with them and you figured that he’d never give the time of day so you just survived off longing glances and ‘accidental’ brushes against his arm.

Fast forward to 2018, Chuck is living with you guys in the bunker again. He was traipsing around in the middle of the night when he happened to pass your room. You were having a dream about John (something that happened every now & again), calling out to him and expressing your deep love for him. Chuck, being God and all, knew of your affection for the old hunter and devised a plan that would give you the shock of your life.

The next day brought a flurry of activity as Sam caught wind of a case in South Carolina where people were seemingly dropping like flies near an old antebellum home in the Lowcountry. It sounded like a simple salt & burn but you were all itching for some action so you loaded Baby up and set out on the road.  The time you’d be gone was perfect to Chuck as it gave him time to get the ball rolling on your surprise.

Your instincts had been right. There was a ghost of an old Union general who was murdered during the Civil War who was wreaking havoc on those who were visiting the plantation. Once you took care of that, you guys decided to stay an extra day to explore the city. You & Sam, being big history buffs, were geeking out over all the various pieces of historical significance in the city.  Although Dean would snicker and call you nerds, seeing you two happy made him happy.

You finally got back on the road to Kansas, ready for a good shower and your memory-foam mattress. After a bit of driving and a couple pit stops, you decided to catch a nap to help pass the time. Your nap was apparently a great one because before you knew it, you were passing a ‘Welcome to Kansas’ sign.

Dean pulled into the garage and you three got everything unloaded.  As you were walking in, laughing at a joke Sam told, you immediately slammed into a wall of flannel. Glancing up to see what was going on, you saw the boys staring down at something. Following their line of sight, your eyes landed on something you thought you’d never see again.

John freaking Winchester.

John was alive and standing right in front of you and his boys. The last thing you heard was a strangled ‘Dad?’ from Dean before everything went black.

When you awoke, you were surprised to find yourself in your room. However, that paled in comparison to the surprise of seeing John sitting in a chair beside the bed. He was bit more mature than before, salt & pepper hair lining his head and beard. He’d also updated his wardrobe as he was sporting tight jeans and a black leather jacket, looking like a TV character that you couldn’t quite place.

“Glad to see you’re finally awake, sweetheart.” he says with a smile that melts your heart (and panties).

“John? How the hell are you in front of me right now?! Are you a demon?” You immediately search for your holy water.  John chuckles and tells you that the boys have already tested him to see if he was legit and showed the healing cut on his palm.  You breathed out a sigh of relief before launching yourself into his arms for a bear hug.  

“I missed you so much, John.  Do you know how long it took us to reach a sense of normalcy after you died?” You hadn’t realize you’d started crying until he gently wiped away your tears.  

“Y/N, I never wanted to hurt you but I had to save my son.  Those boys were my whole world, next to their mother.” The mention of Mary hit you like a bucket of ice water and you detangled yourself from John’s hold.  Looking down at your feet, you missed the look of hurt that briefly flitted across John’s face.  You awkwardly cleared your throat and mumbled something about fixing dinner before fleeing the room-anything to get away from John in that moment.

On our way to the kitchen, you ran into Chuck who was sporting a megawatt smile.  He was expecting to find you a happy camper but when he noticed your tear-stained cheeks, the smile slipped from his face.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? I thought you’d be over the moon right now.”

“What are you talking about, Chuck?” Realization suddenly settled upon you.  “Chuck, did you bring John for me?”

“Y/N, I’ve heard you in your sleep, calling out for him and professing your love.  I figured that you deserved a chance at happiness so I brought him back, mostly for you but also for the boys.”

“Wha-? I...Chuck, he is never going to love me.  He still loves Mary with all his heart.  There’s no room for me”, you say dejectedly.

“Y/N, I’m God, remember? Just trust me, okay?”

You nodded slightly and turned towards the kitchen.  Little did you know that John had chased you down the hall and heard the entire conversation.

The next few weeks were confusing to you.  On the hunting front, John fit right in and caught on fairly quickly with the newer technology (although cell phones gave him a bit of grief).  What was puzzling was how attentive to you John had become.  While on the road, he made sure to always be near you or attending your needs first.  In the bunker, he was always finding ways to spend time with you, whether it was helping you cook or instituting a weekly movie night.  The boys always asked if there was something between you and their father but you always denied it, no matter how much you wanted it to be true.

All of John’s attention came to a head while hunting a werewolf who’d been hunting women that looked like you.  You’d been tasked to lure in the werewolf and he easily took the bait. However, none of you that it’d been a trap and the werewolf took you to his hideout.  Thankfully, you’d had a tracker in the hem of your dress so it didn’t take long for Sam to find you.  Upon hearing the calvary coming, the werewolf knew his time was limited so he chose to go out with a bang.  As their footsteps rang out in the hallway, the werewolf stepped to you and sank his fangs into your neck.  The door swung open and Dean promptly shot a silver bullet into the back of the werewolf, his body thumping on the floor.  John stepped over the body to free you from your shackles and cradled your body next to his, inspecting your wound and fearing the worst.

“Y/n, sweetheart, you gotta hold on for me.  I need you to stay awake.”

“John, it hurts so much.  I’m so tired.”

“No, darling.  Keep talking to me.  I can’t lose you.” John leans close to your ear before whispering, “I can’t lose another woman I love.”

You turn to look at his face right as Cas appears, rushing to your side to heal you.  You pull in a deep breath as his grace flows through you, healing the gaping wound at your neck.  He tells you that you’ll be okay, just rest if you can.  Standing, you turn towards John with tears in your eyes.  You leap into his arms and pull his face towards you, smashing your lips together.  “I love you too, John.”

When you return to the bunker, you and John have a heart-to-heart where he confesses overhearing your conversation with Chuck.  He assures that while he will always love Mary, there is room for you in his heart and he will spend the rest of the life making sure you believe him.

“John, love is a bridge built between two people. We want what exists between them to be real.  I think what’s between us is real.  I love you, John.”

John stood and swept you up into a breath-stealing kiss.  Feeling lightheaded, you didn’t even realize that John had pulled back and was slowly dropping to one knee.  You let out a gasp as you realized what he was doing and saw the little black box.

“Sweetheart, I’ve been given a second chance at life and my life is nothing without you.  I don’t want to waste anymore time before asking you this question.  Can you put up with an old hunter and marry me?”

You nodded so hard that you thought your neck would snap.  John pulled the ring from the box and slipped it over your finger, telling you that Chuck held him pick it out.

“It’s perfect, John.  Thank you.”

“No need to thank me, Y/N.  I meant what I said.  I plan to spend the rest of our lives making you feel like the most important woman in the world.”

3 months later, you married on a private beach with Chuck officiating.  It was a small affair but to you, it was perfect.  8 months after that, Mary Ellen and John Robert Winchester made their debut, the perfect additions to your perfect family.

[emoryhemsworth]

Simple Man

Summary: Dean has a nightmare, and the reader is there to comfort him.

Characters: Dean Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 526

Genre: Flangst

Rating: T for a tiny bit of language and vaguely implied sexy times.

Warnings: Mentions of Dean’s time in Hell and Purgatory.

Author’s Note: Written for @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog Mimi’s RomCom Fluff Challenge! As the title implies, I had Jensen’s cover of “Simple Man” in mind while writing this, which you can listen to here.

Nights had never held good memories for Dean. Maybe that’s why as he got older, he tried to drown the memories with cheap alcohol and the company of women.

He’s always carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. One of his earliest memories, probably the earliest, was his dad putting a 6-month-old Sam in his arms and telling him “Take your brother outside as fast as you can - don't look back. Now, Dean! Go!”

Fast forward to Dean’s late 30s. He still protects Sam with his life, but now he has someone that brings light to his world, Y/N. Where Dean was cynical and jaded, Y/N still believed there was good in this world and that it was worth fighting for.

Nights were still miserable. Nightmares plagued his dreams: dreams of when he sold his soul to save Sam and did time in Hell (both being tortured and doing the torturing), when he killed Dick Roman to take down the Leviathans, but the worst were dreams of when he was killed by Metatron and came back as a demon.

Tonight was no different. While Dean had started getting a full night’s sleep since Y/N had moved into the bunker with them, nightmares still plagued him. They’d become even worse since he got the Mark of Cain. This particular night, it happened to be about his time in hell.

Dean’s body was strung out by meathooks in his shoulders and legs. He’d experienced some painful injuries while hunting, but this… this was unbearable. That compounded on top of the additional torture Alistair inflicted upon him… he just wanted it to stop.

That was nothing compared to the feeling of having a blade in his hand and doing the torturing himself. He’d never considered himself a monster until he started hurting souls… and enjoying it.

“SAM!” Dean called out, knowing he likely couldn’t hear him.

x

Dean didn’t realize he must have shouted out Sam’s name for real until Y/N shook him awake.

“Dean, hey, it’s okay… it was just a nightmare…” she whispered, snuggling close to him. Y/N knew that on nights like this, Dean liked to feel like he could still protect her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It was hell…” Dean whimpered. “I… I’m just trying to find a something to hold on to. So many people have died… Kevin, Bobby, Charlie, Jo, Ellen… it just seems like we’re fighting a losing fight. How many people have died because of us? How many have died because we couldn’t get there fast enough?”

“And how many people are alive because of you, babe? You have literally saved the world and never asked for anything in return. We need to remember what used to be good. If we don’t, we won’t recognize it even if it hits us between the eyes.”

Her hand caressed his cheek as she said the last few words, and he leaned into her gentle touch.

“Y/N…” Dean whispered softly, looking up to lock eyes with her.

She knew exactly what he needed as he rolled on top of her, kissing her with more desire than she’d ever felt.