#or dean can figure out a way to bring him back

[normaltothemax]

Last of Us (Show) Starters ❝ you keep your eyes on me. and don’t look anywhere else. ❞ (jason m&m)

Jason remembered dying the first time. Remembered what it felt like. The pain and the cold and the nothingness. He was strange mix of them, now, laying there, struggling to breathe on the cool, hard ground. Somewhere between feeling cold and feeling nothing at all, all that pain still lingering.

Those weren’t the worst parts about dying, though.

No, the worst part was the fear.

The fear of knowing it was all coming to an end, that he was going to die and it was going to hurt and he couldn’t do anything to stop it. That Dean couldn’t do anything to stop it. There wasn’t time. Jason was hurt far too badly, had lost far too much blood. It wouldn’t matter if Dean broke the sound barrier driving, Jason wouldn’t make the trip.

But it was okay, because this time, Jason wasn’t alone.

This time, someone had made in time.

This time, his dad was here with him.

His grip on Dean’s hand was weak, but he held on stubbornly, not willing to give up the contact if he could help it. “N-no—” Blood speckled his lips and chin as he coughed, the harsh sound tearing up his throat. “No deals,” he choked out. “N-no…no deals.” Jason didn’t want that. He didn’t want Dean throwing away his life for him. He didn’t want to be brought back if it would cost him the very best thing he had. “P-promise.”

Promise him, Dean.

He was fading fast, couldn’t tear his eyes away from Dean if he’d tried. Not that he would. Jason wanted that comfort, he wanted that feeling of safety, even if he knew it wasn’t real. Even though he knew it wouldn’t last.

But his eyelids were growing heavy. It didn’t hurt anymore—he remembered this, knew it was time—and he was so very tired. His eyes slipped closed, the barest hint of a smile on his lips. “S’okay.” It was okay. Dean was here. The last words he spoke were a mumbled, “Love you,” Jason needing Dean to know that, before he gave in and let the darkness take him.

@therebetterbepie (x)

[pearlzier]

────⠀ ⠀ oh to sit on dean winchester's face⠀ᥫ᭡

warnings 𓂅 ✶ face sitting, oral (f!recieving), softdom!dean, afab!reader, uhh implied oral(m!recieving) ending.

when dean saw how petulant you were getting, all pissy with him, he knew exactly what was going on. maybe you were feeling pent up, clearly, since every little thing was setting you off and he hated to see you so wound up. you'd been getting on his ass the entire hunt, even being snappy with witnesses—that wasn't like you at all. he'd tried to figure out what was up with you, a million times. it wasn't getting him fucking anywhere.

"you gonna tell me what's up now?" you'd simply frown and look away, and he knows he won't get it out of you in the usual ways of being gentle and comforting. "fine, be like that then," he'd grumble in return, looking back at the steering wheel as he drove around the backwater town you two had found yourself in.

it's getting on his nerves as much as something's definitely getting on yours. dean'll figure it out eventually. he's softer with you in moments like this, not teasing you as much as he usually does so he doesn't piss you off as much. it's like setting off a live wire and he sure as hell ain't in the business to be doing all that. there's a hunt at hand, but he's realising you need sorting out before anything in that regard can get done.

when the two of you get back to a motel you'd grabbed, the hunt still proving fruitless. sam was fuck knows where, having said he wanted to work on some leads with cas, leaving you and dean together. he didn't mind, neither did you, since you two love eachother so damn much, but when you're so temperamental like this? always biting at him? a little hard to enjoy the alone time when he's walking on damn eggshells around you.

but he knew what you needed. needed your pussy ate, that's what. neeeded to get off, somehow, huh? you always got so sharp with him when you were pent up, all horny and frustrated. it was kind of becoming a game of his, see how long he could leave you pent up only to bring you to the edge over and over again till you calmed down.

"gotta come up with other ways to let out your frustration, baby, 'cause bein' horny ain't no excuse to start snappin' at me," he mutters, locking the motel door behind the two of you. you grumble at that, "not horny, just.." knowing full well you're lying through your teeth. how can you not be? like, he looks too damn good when he's impersonating law enforcement, that tight white shirt which he on occasion rolls up to his elbows—fuck, it's like he wants you to be pent up.

"starin' at me like you're gonna eat me whole, sweetheart. can't lie to me," you really can't, dean practically knows you better than you know yourself. his green eyes meet yours and he scoffs.

"that's not fair," you're shrugging off your blazer, hooking it over the coat hook by the door of the motel room. you do notice how dean rakes his eyes over you, seemingly happy with what he's seeing. you know he is, he's told you and shown you countless times in motels rooms quite similar to this one, actually.

dean tugs his tie from around his neck, draping it over the edge of the motel bed before he wanders over to the bed. he kicks off his shoes, leaving them on the floor before laying himself down on his back. he looked up at you with an expectant upwards cock of his brows. "right, you. c'mere," he gestures to his face, hands open for you to come sit yourself down on him and go to town. he barely suppresses a laugh at your expression, but he means it.

"you're not—" you're sceptical. you'd been pissing him off all day with your attitude and instead of being angry at you he's offering his face for you to sit on? you stand there for a moment, gnawing your bottom lip. "really?" your voice is uncharacteristically quiet, and dean softens a little bit at that.

"yeah, really," he slides his hands over the first few buttons of his shirt, in case he gets too warm with you sat over top him, before he gestured you over again. "don't make me drag you over here, y'know i'll do it." he most definitely will. you groan at that, knowing what lies ahead of you. "and you know you wanna."

you really do, that's the issue. he's right. you stare at him, and sigh under your breath. as much as you wanted to resist, be petty, you physically couldn't. "yeah, okay, hold on," you mutter, corners of your lips tugging upwards at the corners. dean practically cheers, he literally lives to please you, to make you feel good.

"just a second," you hum, sliding your hands into the sides of your slacks and easing them down. dean's eyes immediately drop down to your thighs, his tongue darting out to run over his bottom lip before he gazes back up at your face. he nods for you to continue, and you do, stepping out of your trousers and kicking them away from you.

"lookin' real pretty, sweetheart," dean murmurs, smiling softly at the sight of you. he shifts his weight upwards, so he can look at you properly. holding his hands out for you once more, he hums low under his breath. that coaxes you to make your way over to him, albeit the tiniest bit reluctantly still. you're still all tense. he hates seeing you so high strung. making your way over to the bed, your knees dig into the soft mattress, dipping it a little. dean quickly places his hands on your hips, sliding up under the blouse you're wearing.

his eyes rake up and down you, "gorgeous," he mumbles under his breath, squeezing at your flesh in gentle motions. as much as he'd like to worship your whole body right now, he's focused on worshiping a specific part of you right now. "you're okay with this?" he asks, placing a gentle kiss to your navel, eyes lifting back up to yours. "yeah," you murmur, "of course i am." he just needed to make sure.

"yeah? alright, up you get," dean lifts you to the side a little bit, slowly shuffling back down on the bed and laying against the mattress. his head rests against the pillow, eyes fluttering up and down you for a minute. "okay," you're tentative for a moment, reaching for your panties. though dean reaches over and eases them down your thighs for you. he swallows hard at the clear arousal dampening the thin fabric of your underwear, his breath hitching in his throat.

"starin'," you tell him gently, a soft smile playing on your lips at the sight of him. dean's eyes dart back up to yours and she scoffs, gently slapping your thigh a little bit before he grasps at your hips again. "can't wait any longer, up," he murmurs, and you bite your lip for a minute before you grasp at the headboard of the bed. dean's practically salivating, his tongue poking at the inside of his mouth for a minute before he practically tugs you down onto him.

"hold tight for me," dean mumbled, shifting his weight against the bed. just the sight of your bare pussy hovering mere inches above his face has him reeling. without hesitation, he grasps at your hips properly and tugs you down onto him. burying his face between your thighs, he lets his tongue delve into your warm, slick folds—lapping at your clit with a hungry fervour. "fuck, baby.."

you gasp shakily, your breaths picking up almost immediately at the feel of his tongue plunging against your warmth. "oh, shit," you grasp tighter at the bedframe, head tipping back a little bit. your thighs squeeze around his head, and he groans into you at the feeling. he uses the flat of his tongue to spread your wetness around, before his tongue darts back and forth over your clit, suckling at it insistently.

"that's it," dean moans into you, eyes fluttering shut juat at the feeling of your hips rocking up against him. he licks a thick line down your pussy, hiking you up him a little bit. his nose bumping against your clit as he slowly traces his tongue over your entrance. he flutters his tongue against your wet slit, fingers digging into the meat of your thigh a little tighter.

he groans into your cunt, the vibration sending a shiver down your spin and causing your hips to twitch againsr his face again. dean tightens his grip on your hips to try encourage you to grind down against his tongue even more, coaxing louder sounds from you. "holy fucking shit," dean lets out a low laugh against you, smacking your thigh for a moment at that. it only urges you to grind down further.

dean's nothing if not focused when it comes to making you feel good, and as he suckles at your clit, flicking his tongue against it and sucking on it, he's dedicated to the job. "so wet for me, yeah, that's it, ride my face, go on," his words are muffled by his position between your thighs but you can hear them clear enough. he might be throbbing beneath the fabric of his boxers, blood rushing to his dick with every cant of your hips, but he has to make sure you're satisifed first. "that's it, baby."

he runs his hand up between your thighs, lifting his thumb to your clit and rubbing tight circles over the bundle of nerves, feeling the way your thighs squeeze around his head and tremble against him. "dean, dea—" dean squeezes at your thighs to shush you, murmuring against you, "i know, baby, gonna come all over my face." he squeezes at your hips a little tighter, rutting you down against him so he can circle his tongue around your entrance once more. a few more tight circles made by his thumb and your movements stutter, thighs shaking even more as your orgasm hits you.

dean's groaning the whole way, happily lapping up all of your juices with no complaints. the fact he's making you feel good is more than enough for him, more than enough. "shit," he mumbles, laying back for a moment just to take in what just just happened. before he gets a chance to help you off of him, you're easing yourself off him. "that was—hey, where are you goin'—" his eyes widen as you're practically crawling down his body, settling yourself between his thighs.

"can i?" repay the favour, of course. he'd made you feel so good, after all.

dean's in a little daze, his breathing heavy. he lifts his hand to wipe his face of your release, blinking for a minute. sliding up the headboard, his hand moves to the back of your head easily and he mutters, "like you even gotta ask, baby." his free hand unbuttons his trousers with ease, "all yours."

ִ ֹ ★ @blue-d, @gibson-g1rl, @stevelacylovebot, @psychicnatural, @funkycoloured, @lovesickgrlsrh0t, @soldierboycunt, @hrtsoldierboy, @beetlejenna, @venusiers, @v3nusasagrl, @imwetforyourmom, @https--roman, @pillwebb, @beridollie, @sl33pylilbunny, @sincerebabydoll, @angelicjackles, @deansbite ִ ꒱

[godmadeaterribleerror]

Still You Want Me

Main Masterlist

Read on A03!

Tags: Dean Winchester/Female Reader, tooth-rotting fluff, pregnancy, a little angst if you squint, pre-established relationship.

Summary/Warnings: Dean's fought the worst evil in the world, but only one thing has really managed to scare him. His pregnant wife.

Author's Note: Request from an anon!! I got emotional with it, and I'm very sorry about that but I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!

Word Count: 2.9k

“We got three hours left.” Dean returned to the parked Impala, sorting through the bags in his hands. “But we can make it back in two if I-“

Sam shook his head, taking his bag of bird feed—trail mix, but the pointless kind without any M&Ms—from Dean with a frown. “Two’s a bit stretch, don’t you think? I mean even for you, Dean, and it’s not like we’re in a rush-“

“You’re not in a rush, Sammy.” Dean muttered, dumping the rest of the snacks in the backseat. “I got a pregnant wife who’s left me three voicemails about how she’s either gonna castrate me or give me head, and-“

“Gross, dude.” Sam walked around the car, making a scrunched bitch-face of disgusting. “All you needed to say was that’s she’s got mood swings-“

“Don’t call them mood swings.” Dean dropped behind Baby’s wheel, saying Her name with a sigh. “She hates that. And you can’t charm your way out of like I can.”

“I think I could.” Sam shrugged. “She likes me more.”

“She’s my freakin’ wife-“

“She loves you.” Sam grabbed his phone as they pulled out of the lot. “She likes me. I’ve never been threatened with castration-“

“Yet.” Dean muttered. “Cas thought he was safe until he got a shade of yellow that was too red for the nursery. I mean, yellow is yellow, Sammy, but she threatened to cut off his wings-“

Sam frowned. “I don’t think she could do that-“

“Trust me, man.” Dean sighed, running a hand over his face. “She’d find a way.”

Sam just nodded, because they both knew Dean was right. He was pretty goddamn sure that, if She wanted—or if Dean pissed Her off enough—She’d figure out how to send him somewhere worse than the Empty, bring him back, then start sobbing and apologizing on Her knees all within a ten-minute span. Then She’d probably give him a blowjob, he’d saying the exact wrong dirty talk, and she’d bite off Little Dean. Shit, he’d only been gone four days for the hunt, but half that time had been spent on the phone, reassuring Her he was being safe, the hunt wasn’t a part of any world-ending scheme from a new big bad, and he’d be home soon. The time that Dean wasn’t on the phone, Sam was, promising he wouldn’t let anything happen, that Dean was sleeping well and looking at the baby names list She’d sent, and that he’d called Eileen so she wouldn’t worry either.

Annoyingly, Sam had been keeping his promises to Her. Dean read the baby names list because Sam wouldn’t let him leave the table until he did, Eileen had gotten two calls, and Dean was being safer than he’d ever been in his freaking life. At this point, he was pretty sure the pregnancy was just one long scam to make him take care of himself. He was drinking and hunting less after Her breakdown that she’d lose him, driving a little slower—just a little, he wasn’t a blind old lady—after the ice incident got him the silent treatment for three days, and he’d even tried some of Sam’s rabbit food. He’d spat it out, but he’d tried it. For Her, for the baby, and because he was terrified for his life.

Dean loved Her more than every pie in the freaking universe, but She was freaking terrifying right now. She might be the only thing he’d ever really been afraid of. Planes he could avoid. Ghosts and monster he could kill. Hell, even Lucifer had been better. At least the son of a bitch hadn’t begged to give Dean a hand job, then started sobbing because Dean tried to move it to sex and they didn’t feel pretty enough for sex. And if Lucifer had done that, Dean wouldn’t have cared. He didn’t give a shit about Lucifer. 

But he gave a shit about Her. Every time She cried it felt like someone was stabbing him, but he had less and less of a damn clue for how to help her the more pregnant She got. She’d said she felt ugly, he’d told Her she was beautiful, and that her tits looked better than ever, and She’d started accusing him of not loving her tits before. He’d missed one phone call and She’d sent Cas to teleport him home. He’d gotten the wrong candy bar and She’d had a breakdown about him not loving her enough to get the right one.

That last one was why the gas station had taken so long. Dean had triple checked every single snack he’d bought, and added a few extras just in case she changed Her mind. He’d even had Cas text him a second list after She’d told him all her requests over the phone, out of fear that he’d missed even a single one. Even now, on the road, he was running through everything one last time, because he’d gotten five different Gatorade colors, but maybe She’d want a sixth, or two of the same color, or only one color and he’d get yelled at because She didn’t even like orange-

“Hey!” Sam pulled Dean out of his thoughts with a shout. “Phone!”

“Wha-“

Sam said Her name, holding Dean’s phone in front of his face. “She’s calling you-“

“I got that.” Dean snatched the phone, shooting Sam a glare. “And that’s not safe, Sammy. Gonna get us fuckin’ killed-“

“Yeah, sure, Dean.” Sam just shrugged—even though Dean was right, that was dangerous—and nodded to the phone. “I’d pick up if I were you-“

“Shut up.” Dean muttered, ignoring Sam’s laugh as he answered the call. “Hey, baby, we’re-“

“Dean!” Her voice was a half-shriek through the phone, and Dean winced. “Holy shit, you’re alive, that’s good-“

“Course I’m alive, I promised I would be-“

“But it’s not up to you!” She was pacing. Her voice had grown frantic and high, so She was pacing. “Monsters don’t ask before they kill you, and they’d defiantly want to kill you, and Sam told me he’d take that bullet but I don’t want him to die either, and you’re both amazing hunters but if you die now, you can’t come back, and I’d miss you, I miss you now, why aren’t you home, you dick, I fucking hate you-“

Dean swallowed, saying Her name slowly as Sam snickered at his side. Asshole. “Take a breath-“

“Don’t tell me how to breathe, Winchester, I’ve been breathing my whole fucking life-“

“I know, sweetheart, I have too-“

“You’ve never had to breathe while pregnant-“

“And I’m not planning to, ever, but- just listen-“

“We should get you pregnant, it’s only fair-“

Sam started to cackle, Her voice loud enough he could obviously hear every word. It wasn’t really helpful. 

“That’s not gonna happen,” Dean muttered, giving Sam a death glare that just made him laugh more. “Sweetheart, we’ll be there soon. I promise.“

“Okay, but don’t go too fast, if you’re far, because you promised me you’d drive carefully, and you need to be safer. I don’t want to lose you.” She started to sniffle. Shit. “I can’t lose you, De, I need you, the baby needs you, and Sam and Cas are cool but they’re not you and I want you and the baby wants you. It wants you more, it hates when your gone, it just keeps kicking me and if you die I’ll be a terrible mother with a baby who hates me-“

Dean snapped Her name, pressing the Impala’s pedal to the floor. He needed to be home soon. “Listen to me. I’m not gonna do anything stupid like die, and you’re never gonna lose me. Plus, our baby won’t hate you. It’s half me. It can’t.”

There was a slightly static hum from the other side, and Dean sighed.

“I know you miss me, baby, and we can get you whatever you’re craving, but-“

“I do miss you, De.” Her voice was soft and pleading through the phone. 

But it wasn’t Her crying voice. That was her-

“I miss your cock, too. I miss touching you, and why is your bed so stupid and big-“

Dean chuckled, shaking off the whiplash. “Because I’m stupid and big-“

He could hear Her pout through the phone. “Don’t say that. You’re not stupid, and our baby’s gonna be a genius-“

“Because they’ll get their brains from you, pretty girl.”

“Shut up.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dean leaned slightly forward, checking a highway sign. “Hour and a half, okay? Then I’ll be home.”

“Fine.” She mumbled. “I love you. Be careful.”

“I love you too, baby. And I’m always safe.” Dean waited for Her sigh, letting her hang up first. He’d learned to do that the hard way. “Not a word, Sammy, or I’ll shoot you.”

Sam raised his hands, palms up. “I didn’t even open my- got it.”

Dean turned his scowl back to the road, and he could be safe and get home in an hour. Both could be possible, and She’d never have to know that he’d been going 15 over the speed limit. And if She started to catch on, Dean could distract Her with his hands and dick and mouth, because—as hot as she was when she was pissed—Sam said stress wasn’t good for the baby.

They made it forty-five minutes of mostly safe driving—Dean’s hands gripping the wheel and listening to the music at a deafening volume, Sam texting Eileen and pretending he wasn’t bothered by the deafening music—before another incident.

Cas appeared in the back seat, said Her name instead of hello, Dean—already a bad sign—and looked almost genuinely scared. Dean had never seen his face do that before—red and sheepish like a child being scolded by a dinosaur—and it was a little off-putting.

He was used to Cas doing this enough to not swerve off the road, but he was still pissed. “Fucking hell, Cas, a warning would be nice-“

Cas frowned, then leaned forward, turning down the music. “Did you not hear what I said.”

“No, the music was on, I know you said-“

Cas said Her name again with Dean. “It was her message. I would, ah, prefer not to repeat it.”

Sam blinked, turning in his seat. “Why, is she-“

“She is well.” Cas’ eyes stayed on Dean in the rearview mirror. “She is feeling some very… confusing emotions. Towards Dean.”

Sam frowned. “Confusing? How-“

“She told me to relay to Dean that she hates him, and she hates hunting, and if he’s not home in forty-five minutes she’ll leave him, but she can’t leave him because she loves him more than life and she cannot live without him. Specifically his smile, voice, hands, stupid flirting that did this in the first place, and,” Cas swallowed, his voice dropping slightly as his face grew red. “Big cock.”

Dean smirked slightly—she was a menace, but damn it if he didn’t love his girl—as Sam paled next to him.

“By this,” Cas mumbled. “I assume she was referring to the baby. Which is in good health. I checked this morning.”

“Good. Thanks, Cas, but,” Dean sighed. “This could’ve been a phone call-“

“I was instructed to deliver it in person. To make sure you were safe, and driving carefully.” Cas leaned forward with a frown. “The speed limit on this highway is meant to be-“

“I know what the speed limit is.” Dean grumbled, refusing to ease his foot off the gas. “I’m tryin’ to get home, Cas.”

“I believe she would prefer you get home slower, rather than sacrificing your safety.” Cas let out a long sigh. “Although, I will admit I’d prefer you return quickly. I am not equipped to handle a pregnant woman alone, despite reading all of the books on the subject I could find. And, uh,” Cas said Her name with a red face. “Is frightening in this state.” 

Dean sighed. “Thirty minutes, dude, can you hold down the fort-“

“He could take you now?” Sam cut in with a small frown. “Cas could zap you back to the bunker, and I could drive Baby home.”

“Sammy-“

Cas nodded. “I agree with Sam’s plan. If you could pull over, Dean-“

“I’m not gonna pull over!” Dean snapped. “I can get back just fine myself!”

“But I could-“

“You won’t always be there, Cas.” Dean grunted through his teeth. “I gotta be able to take care of my family by myself. Shit, I’m doing all the safety bullcrap for it, and I’m hunting less.” He said Her name, his grip on the wheel painful. “She’s gotta know I can take care of her, and the baby. I said I’d drive home, so-“

Sam cut Dean off a sigh. “Dude, she’s gonna care way more that you’re home with her.”

“Sam is correct.” Cas said, and Dean could feel his gaze through the mirror. “I attempted to make her breakfast this morning, and she started crying. When asked, she told me that you make it better.” Cas frowned. “It was cereal.”

“C’mon, man. Let Cas take you home.”

Dean glanced over to find Sam giving him puppy eyes—the bitch—and groaned. “Fine. But if I see one scratch on Baby-“

“You’ll kill me, yeah, I know.” Sam unbuckled as Dean pulled over, not sounding nearly threatened enough. “Let’s move.”

It took a minute for Dean to get all the snacks, but the moment the last bag was in his arms Cas grabbed him by the shoulder, the world because a spinning rush, and he was home.”

“Dean!” 

He was barely on steady legs when She slammed into him, sending him stumbling slightly back as his arms wrapped around her, careful not to push too far into the baby bump.

“Hey, Sweetheart. I heard you missed me-“

“Of course I missed you, you asshole!” She pushed off of him, shoving his chest slightly. “Do you have any idea how many pies are just rotting in the fridge for you! You said the hunt would be fast, Dean, but I was stuck alone for four fucking days-“

Dean frowned. “Wasn’t Cas-“

“Cas doesn’t count!” She screamed, and over her shoulder, Cas didn’t look that offended. He’d probably gotten this outburst—and the following, tearful apology—at least twice already. “Cas isn’t you! He didn’t knock me up and then leave me-“

Dean thought about pointing out that he had not left Her, but thought better of it and let her keep shouting. She usually calmed herself down. 

Usually.

“And Cas is an angel, and he’s been okay, and I feel so bad because I was such a bitch to him, but he deserved it! He wasn’t you! And I missed you and I hate you, Dean, I fucking hate you, why weren’t you home-“

Dean caught Her hands in his, pressing a gentle kiss to Her knuckles. “I’m home now, baby-“

“I know.” She whispered, crumbling in half a second into Dean, clinging to him like a koala. “And I missed you so much, De. I can’t do the laundry with this stupid bump, I can’t do anything, I’m useless and I’m a bitch and I think made Cas cry-“

“I’d pay to see you make Cas cry,” Dean muttered Her name, running a slow hand through her hair. “And you’re not useless. You’re growing a person, that freaking awesome and insane-“

She tilted her head back, pretty eyes glossy and wide on Dean’s. “But what if I mess it up? What if I fuck the baby up and you leave me-“

“I’m never gonna leave you.”

“But I’ve been mean-“

“You’re always mean, baby.” Dean grinned at her, letting his affection show in his voice. “And it’s always pretty freakin’ hot. And you aren’t gonna fuck up the baby, and I’m not gonna leave you, but,” he leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “If you wanna make Sammy cry a little more, I think he’ll deserve it.”

She rolled her eyes, but she was smiling again. “I’m not making Sam cry-“

“He said you had mood swings.”

She gasped, hitting Dean’s chest.  “You’re a snitch-“

“Gotta spread the love somehow.” Dean shrugged, squeezing his hands on Her as he dropped his voice down. “But I can think of a few other ways, just you and me, to spread some better love.”

She flushed—already putty in Dean’s arms—and almost dragged him back to their room. 

And this made it worth it. All the screaming and flying objects and threats, all the living in cautious fear in his own damn home, was more than worth it for this. Not just the awesome sex—sex was always awesome, sex with Her was better than almost anything, and sex with pregnant Her was what Dean imagined crack was like—but the way that, in the end, She smiled at him no matter what. She smiled and giggled and moaned, proving to Dean in a million ways both between the sheets and after that she didn’t really hate him, and he got to rest his head on her stomach and feel a small kick near his brow. Her fingers combed through his hair peacefully, all her noises made of content, and everything was more than worth it.

Worth pushing through the worst of the screaming and moods—just like She’d pushed through all of his world-saving bullshit—to see Her peaceful face as she slept by his side. Worth letting Sam drive the Impala just once, so Dean could get home faster.

Worth the family he was finally getting to have, and being here with them. 

End Note: Sam Winchester once again being a true trooper in my stories.

Title from Next to Me by Imagine Dragons

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Taglist

@artemys-ackles @ambiguous-avery @nightxcreature @sthefferrete @lyarr24

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[lostalioth]

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐧

→ premise: all of deans life pain has always ran parallel to love. he needs them both, he needs you to hurt him and take the pain away all at the same time, turns out you were more than willing to, you may even need it reciprocated.

→ pairing: dean winchester x fem!reader

→ warnings: 2.3k words, small bit of angst that turns quickly into smut | 18+, kinda switch!dean, pain kink [slapping, biting, pinching, scratching, etc], praise kink [both reader and dean], unprotected sex, small bit of choking, multiple mentions of blood & reader nearly dying

→ a/n: kinktober 08

Dean was accustomed to pain, he learned to tolerate and push through it from a young age as his father hammered into him that it was his job to always look after Sam and conditioned him to become a hunter. Love always came alongside pain in his life, losing everybody he ever cared deeply for; it happened so often that he began to associate one with the other. And so somewhere along the way he came to yearn for both pain and love as he felt they always came together. When Dean began having feelings for you, he was scared like he’s never been before. He avoided telling you for a couple of years simply because he thought if he voiced it out loud then he'd lose you like he did everyone else.

However when a demon came very close to killing you when you were being reckless, that scared Dean a hell of a lot more and in a screaming match about it he revealed his feelings on accident.

“You couldve fucking died, ya’ know that right? If me and Sam got there even a minute later you’d have been laying in my arms dead not just unconscious” when he mentions sam, he gestures towards the couch in the small motel room where the younger brother last sat. Though when he turns to look over hoping for backup he finds Sam gone, he groans out in annoyance. Sam had figured it was best to leave the two of you to your fighting alone, yes he was also upset with your careless decision but not as heated as his brother.

“Well I didn't okay? I can take care of myself. I had it under control!” you scream out, punching your words out to get your point across, flailing your arms in frustration though the fast movement aggravates your injuries making you wince slightly. Seeing you in pain makes Dean stop short for a second, a ping in his chest as his heart aches, it however only morphs into making his blood boil more when the memory of finding you beaten and bloody on the floor of that warehouse flashes in his head. “I'm sooo glad you can take care of yourself, but what about me HUH?!” He screams out, sarcasm dripping from his voice until the latter half with his question where it breaks off taking you back. Confusion crosses your face but before you can say anything back to him he continues.

“I dont know what I’d fuckin’ do without you, im so pathetically and utterly in love with you that the thought of you dying makes me wanna lie in the dirt just so i can be buried with you!” he had been stepping closer and closer as he yelled out in frustration, not realizing exactly what he just said. You can feel your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline from his confession and proximity coursing through your veins.

“You love me..?” Your voice comes out softer than Dean swears he's ever heard it before and it melts all the anger out of his body. He knew there was no turning back now that he blurted that out and even though he was worried more than ever, he couldn't stand not being with you anymore. “I think i fell in love the moment i met you sweetheart” he sighs and brings his rough hands up to cup your face and wipe away the tears you hadn’t noticed we're slowly falling from your eyes. After a long stretch of comfortable silence as the tension of the fight has dissipated you speak up.

“Would you just kiss me already ya’ idiot” you tease, smiling softly at him through your tears as you stare deep into those stupid green eyes that turn your brain to mush.

Using his hold on your face he pulls your lips against his in a desperate kiss, trying to drown out all the swarming negative voices in his head. Your soft lips mold against his perfectly and he thanks any and every god he can think of for letting him have something he knows he doesn’t deserve. Your eyes flutter shut as you kiss back, the fight over your thoughtless decision not forgotten but put on the back burner. You were deans the second you told him to kiss you and if you thought you were gonna be able to continue with your bad decisions boy were you in for a surprise, he just finally got you he wasn't ever letting go now. You grab at his chest, your hands balling up his shirt as you try pulling him impossibly closer deepening the kiss. In a tangled mess of limbs and mouths still latched to one another’s you and Dean tumble back and fall down onto the rundown motel bed. Dean landed on his back in the middle cushioning your fall with you landing on top of him between his legs.

“Baby..” he mumbles against your lips making your heart skip a bit at him calling you a name normally reserved for his impala. He even squeezes your hips lightly to break your focus from the make out.

“I need you to do something for me” he groans out as the kiss heats up and your tongue slips in his mouth during his statement, your hands running all over his chest and arms. Your body was pressed up to his, hips flush against each other making it impossible for you not to feel his hardening cock on your thigh. “Anything, what do you need, baby?” You question, desperate to please him and more than willing to do whatever he asks. Now Dean was well aware if he said jump you'd ask how high, he just hoped this request as odd as it was didn‘t make you run for the hills.

Reluctantly he pulls away from the kiss to catch his breath as well as watch your face when he tells you what he needs. You open your eyes and look at him with that same sparkle they always hold when your gaze is locked on him. His cock was getting painfully hard now from the mixture of the make out session and your body so close to him.

”I- shit okay im just gonna say it uh. I need you to hurt me. I just- I need you to get the image of you laying in a pool of your own blood barely breathing out of my head” he rambles, his voice sounding unfamiliar to his own ears with how pathetic it comes out. He silently prays you won't just get up and walk out of his life at his weird desire. He avoids eye contact when you are still silent after a minute. A fire ignites in your body and settles in your core as a million and one thoughts are running through your head at the speed of light. Every single last one however being the different things you wanna and finally get to do to Dean.

You grab ahold of Dean’s face squeezing it as you turn it so he is looking at you again. You now have a small taunting smile on your face, your nails are lightly digging into his cheeks making his cock twitch. “I can do that, but can you be a good boy?” You teasingly question as you lean up maneuvering your body so you're straddling his hips, peering down on him. The sight of you on his lap, thighs spread either side of his body and lust blown hooded eyes staring down at him knocks the breath from his lungs. It's an image pulled from his many dirty depraved dreams of you that riddled him with guilt but now it's a reality, his wonderful heaven like reality.

He frantically nods his head yes while your hand not pinching his face is working at undoing his belt.

“Gonna be such a good boy, can be s’good for you baby” he huffs out and lifts his hips to help you out as you pull his jeans down and off his legs. You let go of his face and dean has to fight back an actual whine when the small sting of pain leaves with it. Though he swallows his complaint as he watches you strip yourself of your dirty still blood soaked t-shirt, going at a teasingly slow pace when you undo your own belt pulling it through the loops and discarding it on the floor besides his pants. “Come on don't be a tease sweetheart please” he softly begs as he grabs your hips, thrusting his up to grind his bulge against your core. The rough fabric of your jeans sends a jolt of pleasure up his spine as it rubs over his aching boxer covered cock. You bite back a moan and slap his chest to stop him before lifting your body up to help you rid yourself of your remaining clothes. He is quickly behind you nearly ripping off his shirt and tugging down his boxers making his leaking cock bounce free between your bodies.

Saliva practically pools in Dean's mouth at the sight of you stripped bare for his eyes scanning over every inch of you. Your thighs spread back over his hips leaving your pussy on display for him, your slick coating his cock as your hips take up his previous action of grinding. “Such a good boy” you praise and lean down digging your nails into his sides, the pain making his eyes screw shut in bliss. Lifting your hips once again this time however sinking your pussy down onto his throbbing cock. Your slick and his precum help to aid your cunt into taking every inch of Dean's cock to the base as you smash your lips against his in a passionate kiss. The mixture of stinging pain and sweet praise and pleasure drown out all bad thoughts, all images that were flashing in Dean's head of your limp body unmoving and bleeding fade from his head finally, his only thought being of how good you feel.

“Mhmm~” He whines out in pleasure and surprise, the sound muffled in your mouth. Your hips immediately set into a rhythm of grinding and softly bouncing, his cock dragging across your velvety walls and his tip hitting your cervix when you bounce down. “Ah- Ahh~ fuck sweetheart knew this fuckin’ pussy feel amazing” he grunts out, his fingers holding onto your hips in a bruising grip that has your head spining. You bite down on his plush bottom lip in retaliation making a small almost growl erupt from his chest. The sound vibrates through your body to your core making your hips flatter a bit and a whine escapes your lips.

Within the blink of an eye dean has your legs wrapped around his waist when he sits up and flips your position breaking the kiss. Laying you flat on your back with him nestled between your thighs his cock still buried deep inside you. “Dean~” your whimper morphs into a wanton moan when his hips start at a punishing pace, your slick already forming a creamy ring at the base of his cock as it pounds into you. His heavy balls smacking your ass creating an obscene noise that fills the room with your moans and his grunts. “As much as i love how you sound and wanna hear it for the rest of my life baby, you gotta be quiet sweetheart” he taunts as his hand slips up the side of your body to palm at your bouncing tits. you whine out and paw at his lower stomach and v-line almost pushing him away slightly to stop his tip from abusing that one spot deep inside you. “Mm~ I can’t, it s’good, feels too good, i needa cum” you whine out your words slurring together as the knot in your stomach tightens. “Aww well don't want the staff or other guests hearing you scream my name now do we?” He questions with a small smirk that morphs into an almost slack jawed look when your nails dig into his back and drag down. The stinging pain of you scratching at his back so hard he's almost certain you drew blood makes his hips speed up even more.

“Bite down on my shoulder to muffle yourself when you cum okay baby?” He softens a bit though his hips don't slow down, you nod desperately in understanding. “That’s my good girl” he beams at you praising you in a sweet tone making your pussy clench down on his cock.

You grab at his hand that rests on your breasts and pull it up to your neck hoping he gets the message. A smile forms on his lips as what you want registered in his head, you wanted pain the same as him. Dean didn't think he could love you anymore than he did and yet as his hand wraps around your throat his heart swells, you're the same as him, you needed the pain with the love and pleasure, he was the luckiest fucking man alive in this moment. He smirks and softly kisses your lips as he leans down and his cock somehow reaches even deeper inside you.

The new angle causes the knot in your core to snap and your high to crash into you, making you pull away from his mouth and bury your face in his shoulder. Baring your teeth you bite down a bit hard onto his shoulder to muffle your loud moans and cries as you cream on his cock. “Oh fuck yeah, there we go sweetheart good girl baby” he praises, his head going foggy in pain and pleasure as his climax hits him head on, spilling his cum deep inside you not caring about the loud noises that leave his own mouth.

→ a/n: as always this wasnt proofread and its late, whos shocked? anyway i got a bit carried away well more like a lot. this is only my second time writing for dean and i got excited i really like writing for him. It is however my first time writing smut for him so sorry if hes out of character.

[allthosepeopleilovetofangirlover]

DATING DEAN WINCHESTER HEADCANONS

Dean is the guy who'd pretend that he's the best in the entire universe, but he'll get nervous if he ever sees someone slightly more attractive than him.

He loves to watch movies with you, even more so if they're of his choice. Cuddling on the couch in the Bunker and watching a movie is his favourite evening activity, and he's constantly looking at your face throughout the movie to see if you like it or not.

Dean doesn't want you to accompany him on hunts, especially if the creature you have to hunt happens to be particularly dangerous, like a vampire or a werewolf.

He'll never try to control you, but he will get insanely protective of you and you have had many arguments based on that.

Arguments that almost always get resolved by angry sex or intense makeout sessions.

But for the ones that don't, you two eventually find your way back to each other.

He'll never admit it, but he loves it when you treat him with affection and give him flowers.

If it wasn't obvious, Dean is touch-starved, and you figure it out very soon into your relationship. You make sure to give him reassuring touches ever so often, especially in the times of stress.

Dean is very grateful for those touches, and keeps reciprocating the gesture, but in a much wilder way.

He is very possessive, and will glare daggers at anyone who stares at you for too long. Men who know him know how dangerous he is, and how well he can fight, so they stay away from you. But the strangers who try to look at you in any way other than respect, Dean will not hesitate to throw punches.

For all his playboy ways, he's extremely loyal to you. Will not even look at any other girl when you're in the picture. You're the only one he wants and needs.

Dean likes to pull pranks on you. They're harmless, obviously. He loves to see that adorable expression on your face when you don't know what's wrong when you're being pranked. Once you realise it however, it doesn't take a lot of time for that expression to go from adorable to angry.

You love to pull pranks on him as well, often teaming up with Sam to teach his older brother a lesson. Sam loves it, and though Dean pretends to be angry and offended, he's laughing on the inside.

Frequent rides in the Impala, especially when it's drizzling and a cool breeze is blowing. He just likes to go on long drives with you, no distance is too long with you by his side.

Dean tells you stories of his childhood, yes, even the bad ones. The good ones to get a good laugh while the bad ones for you to get more acquainted with his reality, to know who he really is.

He had taken a lot, and I mean a LOT of time to open up emotionally, it was extremely difficult for him to not be guarded at all times. But nothing is too difficult when it comes to you.

Now, he opens up to you and talks to you about how he feels, instead of hiding his real emotions behind corny jokes and sarcasm.

Whenever you get mad at him, he immediately gets to know and tries his best to make sure that you aren't mad, the process including more corny jokes but you learned to love them anyway.

Sam loves the way you have a positive effect on his brother, how you calm him down from both anger and stress, how you make him less reckless and more affectionate.

The most important thing however, is the fact that you make him less self-destructive. He takes a lot of care of you, but along with you, he has started to learn how to cherish and love himself as well.

You bring out the best in him, and he brings out the best in you.

You're his yin, and he's your yang. Both of you wouldn't have it any other way.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Too Much (Little Sister Version)

Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by @redbird-tf

Synopsis: you have nightmares of dying like Mary, and you start to get really clingy with Dean.

It started out in a subtle way. Your first nightmare had been vague, and though it had jarred you, it wasn’t enough to curb your day-to-day activities…much.

“I’m going for a supply run.” Dean’s words had you looking up from the homework you’d been working on. “We’re out of beer…and food.”

“I’ll come.” You were on your feet before the words even left your mouth.

“It’s just a quick run,” Dean argued. “Don’t you have homework?”

“It can wait,” you insisted, already on your way to the Impala. “Let’s go!”

Of course it would be Dean—it had always been Dean. Sure, he had his anger issues and his bad moments. He drank too much and he isolated himself when he was upset. But he always came back; when Sam was at Stanford, when dad disappeared, it was always you and Dean.

So when you started having nightmares about burning on the ceiling, Dean was who you turned to.

Scary things shouldn’t phase you anymore, not after all you’d seen. But this was different. Your whole life you’d heard “what happened to mom.” Never any specifics—it was always, “the demon killed mom,” or “what the demon did to Mary.” Nobody ever gave you any details; they always said you didn’t need to know.

So when you snuck into Dean’s room in the bunker and stole dad’s journal, you were in for a surprise.

The pages you’d read had been stuck together—it didn’t look like anyone had read them—and it took you a moment to peel them apart.

I went to visit a shrink today—I thought he might be a vampire. I went in undercover, booked myself an appointment. I figured out pretty quickly that he wasn’t a monster, but I didn’t leave. It sounds stupid, but I actually talked to him. Told him about Mary. Well, as much as I could tell, which is more than I’ve told anyone. Point is, he told me to write down what happened to her. Every detail I could remember. I don’t like thinking about her…but maybe he was right. Little Sammy asked about Mary just the other day, and I yelled at him. I still feel bad…it’s not his fault, he’s just a kid. Maybe this is the only way I’ll be able to talk about her, but maybe that’ll be enough to keep me from going off on the kids. So here goes…

And John had laid out every gory detail of that night, and you’d read the whole thing. You’d always thought it would be better knowing; that it would somehow bring you some extra closure to know how your mother’s final moments went. You were wrong.

And so came the nightmares. The first one was fuzzy and indistinct; a fire, the sound of screaming. But it was enough to have you going with Dean whenever he left the bunker.

The second one was more vivid. It was also when you realized that it wasn’t your mother you were dreaming about—it was you.

It was so real—you felt the demon’s powers slashing open your stomach, you felt your body lifting off the floor…

But the worst part was the heat. It stung your eyes and sizzled against your blood and seared your skin. You tried to scream, but the smoke choked you and stopped your voice. You struggled to inhale, coughing on the smoke and crying at the pain that lit up every nerve ending.

The bright light of the fire left first, then slowly afterwards the pain. But you were still choking and gasping for breath when you sat up in your bed.

“Dean,” you whimpered, the lone word echoing through your empty room. You weren’t quite used to the bunker yet—you were so used to the motels, where your brothers were right next to you at all times. Most of the time it was annoying, but right now…

You threw your covers off you, finally getting a hold of your runaway breathing as you padded barefoot towards your door. You couldn’t stay in this room—it was this room that you’d dreamt of, this ceiling that you’d burned on.

You flung your door open and started down the hall, but you only got halfway to Dean’s room before you stopped. You couldn’t go to him like this, a tear-streaked mess in the middle of the night; he would know something was wrong, and then you’d have to talk about it.

You couldn’t talk about it.

A bang from the kitchen stole your attention and your breath, your mind wandering towards images of a yellow-eyed intruder. You tip-toed to the kitchen, peaking around the corner and breathing easily when you saw Dean rummaging in the fridge for a beer.

You slipped into the kitchen, heading straight for Dean.

“You’re up early,” he greeted, stiffening in surprise when you wrapped your arms around him. “Hey, something wrong?”

“No,” you mumbled, your voice muffled by his shirt. “Good morning,” you added lamely as you pulled away, as if the greeting would explain away the hug.

“Yeah, mornin.” Dean shrugged, choosing to ignore your strange behavior. “Couldn’t sleep? It’s only 5.”

It was later than you’d thought.

“Not really,” you said. “Can we make breakfast?” You weren’t hungry, but you’d take any excuse to keep Dean close.

“Only if you get the bacon,” Dean said with a grin.

“I think we’re out,” you answered.

“Unacceptable,” Dean decided. “You start on the pancakes, I’ll make a run.”

“Wait! Um…” you wracked your brain for an excuse. “Um, the pancakes can wait, I’ll go with you.”

Dean squinted ever so slightly as he stared you down—that was twice in a week that you wanted to go with him to the store without a good reason.

“You sure you’re ok?” He asked.

“Yeah, just…I want some fresh air.”

“Alright.” You both knew he didn’t believe you, but neither of you brought it up again.

You felt pathetic as you trailed behind Dean, but the idea of sitting around the empty bunker alone until he got back or Sam woke up…

You just couldn’t do it. You couldn’t feel safe anymore, not even in your own home, without Dean around.

You sat just a little closer to Dean than you normally would once you got into the Impala, sitting towards the middle of the seat even though the right side was empty. You felt Dean watching you from the corner of his eye, but to your relief he didn’t say anything.

…

“Ok, so how many pounds do we want?” You held a brand of bacon in each hand, eyeing them both. When Dean didn’t respond to your question, you turned around to find the cart there, but no Dean. “Dean?” You glanced up and down the aisle, but he wasn’t in sight. You threw both bacon packages into the cart and ran down the aisle, going down the row and looking frantically down every aisle you passed. Nothing, nothing, nothing, nothing.

You rubbed a hand against your chest when your next breath wouldn’t go through your tightened wind pipe. You tried to take deep breaths, but each one was less satisfying than the last. Once you reached the last aisle with still no Dean, you turned around and started back the way you came, hoping that he was down an aisle on the other side of the store.

“Dean? Dean!” You were calling his name, but you could barely even hear your winded and squeaky voice in the vast emptiness of the store, so you knew there was no way Dean could.

You passed the aisle with your cart and kept going, looking down the first, then the second…

“Dean!” You rushed forward, flinging yourself into Dean’s surprised embrace.

“Hey, what happened?” Dean was stiff and alert, whipping his head around to see what had spooked you.

“I couldn’t find you,” you whimpered, tightening your arms around Dean’s midsection. “I-I didn’t know where you went. Don’t do that to me!”

“Ok, ok hey I’m sorry,” Dean soothed, pulling away and kneeling down, brushing your hair out of your face so he could see you. “C’mon, what’s going on with you? What’s got you so spooked?”

You didn’t answer—you just launched yourself forwards and wrapped your arms around Dean’s neck, burrowing your head against his shoulder.

“Don’t leave me,” you pleaded.

“Ok, ok.” Dean held you closely, rubbing your back. “Ok I’m right here kiddo. Let’s get out of here, ok? Let’s go home.”

…

You held Dean’s hand in vice grip on the way out to the car, but he didn’t comment on it. He waited until you were safely bundled into the Impala to speak again.

“Kid, you need to tell me what’s going on here.”

“I’m fine,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Dean glanced at you, but he didn’t speak again.

…

You were feeling lucky for most of the day—Sam and Dean spent the morning going through books in the library, so you were able to do your homework right next to Dean without warranting worry or attention.

“Check this out.” Sam’s words to Dean had you looking up curiously while Sam turned his computer around. “Looks like a case in town.”

Your heart dropped to your toes—you were too young to hunt, so a hunt in town meant that you sat in the bunker while the boys were out.

They spent the next twenty minutes talking about the case before they got ready to head out. Dean was throwing guns in a bag in his room when you went to find him.

“We’ll be back tonight,” Dean promised. “But if we find the thing that’s killing these people, it might not be until late, so don’t wait up ok?”

“Can’t I come?” Your tug on Dean’s sleeve stopped his movements.

“You know you can’t,” he said. “What’s going on with you? And don’t say nothing, because I know something’s wrong.”

“I just don’t want you to go,” you said. “Please De? Please don’t leave me here alone.”

“You’re not gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked.

You shook your head.

“Then I have no choice.” Dean sighed. “People are dying, and you can’t come. I have to go.” Dean zipped up his bag and slung it over his shoulder. “We’ll be back before tomorrow.”

“Dean—“ you reached out for your big brother, but in one stride he was out of your reach, then to the door, then he was gone.

…

You were trying to read the same page over and over, but the words were swimming around the page, blurred by the tears in your eyes and the shaking in your hands that had the pages fluttering. You looked up for the millionth time, a deep pit in your stomach convincing you each time that the yellow eyes demon would be standing in your doorway, waiting to kill you.

You dropped the book on your desk with a thud, finally giving up on homework—you wouldn’t get anything done until Dean was home, you just couldn’t focus.

You picked up your headphones and slipped them over your head, but you found that not being able to hear your surroundings made your anxiety even worse, and the soothing notes of your favorite song did nothing to help for once. You tried turning on the tv, but you found that you couldn’t look away from the door for more than a few seconds before you started to get scared again.

Finally you couldn’t take it anymore—you closed your room door, your bathroom, and even your closet; open doors just had your imagination running away with images of yellow eyes coming to kill you.

You burrowed yourself under the covers and tried to force yourself to sleep. Hour after hour you convinced yourself that you’d just never be able to sleep, but you didn’t have anything else to do but keep trying, so you didn’t move.

You were still laying there when the door opened.

“Hey sweetheart,” Dean greeted. You smiled at him, and he smiled back for a second before the smile faded. “Me and Sammy have another case—we’re gonna be gone a while, ok?”

“No, wait!” You tried to get up to stop Dean, but you couldn’t move. “Dean, don’t go! Dean don’t leave!”

He was already out the door, and in his place stood Azazel, pale yellow eyes glowing in the darkness.

“Dean!” You screamed, but it was too late; your pajamas were already soaked in blood coming from a painful gash across your stomach. You whimpered, finally able to move as you wrapped your arms around the wound as if you could protect yourself. You couldn’t.

You were sobbing as your body lifted off the ground, your stomach lurching as you went from wall to ceiling. There was no warning spark, or small flame—you were just suddenly and completely engulfed in flames, your hair burning and your skin scorched. You were still screaming when Dean came running back into the room.

“Dean,” you whimpered. “Dean no!”

Yellow eyes had a knife in his hand, and he turned it on your big brother in an instant. As the fire burned around you, you watched as Dean got stabbed again and again and again…

You woke up screaming. The fire was gone, and so was the pain, but you couldn’t even tell. Your eyes couldn’t take in a single detail of the room—they were blurry and unfocused from sleep. Your brain couldn’t decipher what parts of your dream were real and what weren’t. You sobbed out short and shaky breaths, and your cries were just starting to fade into whimpers when you heard it; the loud thunk of the bunker door closing.

Your fears and your crying returned full force, and you were gasping for breath as you felt around for any kind of weapon.

He’s coming he’s coming he’s coming he’s coming…

It was like all you could see was Azazel as you heard footsteps echoing down the hallway. You wanted to do what Dean always did—push his fear down, throw away his emotions, and just fight—but you couldn’t. You couldn’t catch your breath, you couldn’t stop sobbing, and you couldn’t find your gun.

When your door handle started to turn, you thought you were going to pass out. Your already-unsatisfying breath caught in your throat, and with the lack of breath came black spots at the edges of your vision.

You forced a single deep breath in and out—you couldn’t be unconscious when the demon came to kill you, you couldn’t be that helpless. You had to fight, even though you would lose.

The door swung open, and you were still gasping for breath and grappling for any kind of weapon when—

When Dean walked in.

“Dean!” You were off the bed and in your brother’s arms before he had a chance to speak.

“Hey, hey what’s going on?” Dean’s arms tightened around you when he heard you sobbing and felt you shaking. “Baby what happened?”

“Don’t leave me,” you begged between sobs. “Don’t leave me De, don’t leave me.”

“Ok, ok I’m not going anywhere,” Dean promised. “N/N I’m right here.”

“What’s going on?” Sam walked into the room, staring at his siblings with concern.

“I…I think we’re ok here,” Dean decided, carrying you to your bed. “You should go bandage that cut, I’ve got her.” When Sam hesitated, Dean assured him, “I’ve got her Sam.”

Sam finally left, and Dean climbed up on your bed, settling you into his lap when you wouldn’t let your vice grip around his neck go.

“I need you to talk to me,” Dean pleaded. “I need to know what’s going on, what this is.”

“There was fire,” you whimpered, your tears soaking Dean’s shirt. “There was fire, and it burned everywhere, and I was bleeding and I was on the ceiling, and-and yellow eyes stabbed you, and—“

“Whoa, whoa, slow down.” Dean started to rock you back and forth subconsciously. “Hey, how do you know about all that stuff.”

“I’m sorry.” You were sobbing again. “I know I wasn’t supposed to, but I read his journal and he wrote down everything and I thought it would help but…but now I can’t stop dreaming about it. I’m so—I’m so scared, De. All the time.”

“Shh, shh you’re ok,” Dean soothed, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’ve got you sweetheart, I’m right here. Listen,” Dean tried to pull away so he could look at you, but you just tightened your grip. “Ok. I used to have nightmares about mom, too. All the time. I still get them sometimes.”

“You do?” You sniffled. “What do you do about them?”

“Well now it’s easier, because we killed yellow eyes. He’s gone, N/N. Nobody’s ever gonna die like mom did again, especially not you. You know that, right?”

“The dreams feel so real,” you answered.

“I know, I know they do. But they’re not. And I’m gonna help you through this, but kiddo, I can’t be around all the time, you know that. I’ve got a job to do.”

“O—ok,” you sniffled. “I can do better.”

“But I’m still gonna be here when you need me. I promise.”

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“I need you right now.”

Dean’s arms squeezed impossibly tighter around you.

“Then I’m here for you.”

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[shanastoryteller]

i know spn hates good writing and also sam, but the dumpster fire of s4 really could have been salvaged if they'd just played ruby and castiel straight

by which i mean

ruby should have been one of the good guys (honestly it feels like the writers changed their minds last second regarding her anyway)

castiel should have been the villain (which, let's be clear, he totally was)

the point of this is that it would force dean to confront his own bullshit and maybe figure himself out, which not only would have been good television but would have been satisfying to me, personally

sam's problem is that he wants there to be a good equal to every evil. that he believes goodness exists even where it doesn't, that he always wants to give things a chance, that he always has hope. they sound like good traits, up until they're used against him. they reach the station of angels are bad eventually, but it should have been more immediate and visceral, that there is no greater good here. sam should have had this knocked out of him, which would have shattered him in way, to lose this thing he's depended on his whole life, but it really would have hammered home that it's choices that really do matter, not circumstances

dean's problem is always that he sees monsters as monsters with no grey area, that sam always has to play his moral center the second anything becomes complicated. then he goes to hell, breaks, tortures innocents, and an angel yanks him out and tells him that he's a righteous man

dean desperately desperately wants this to be true

because it's sam who they had to look out for, sam who was destined to go darkside, sam with the demon blood

dean doesn't have that excuse

he's just a human man with a hunger for violence who never learned to curb his appetite. who was instead pushed to gorging himself on it, who is left broken and desperate and angry by what he did to save himself. his whole life, his whole self perception for thirty years, was about protecting innocents. then he betrays that in hell. do you think he kept count? how many innocents he destroyed against how many he saved? the day it equaled out, do you think he wished he could weep?

dean is so unbelievably messed up by hell. not the torture he endured, that's barely a blip, but the torture he inflicted is what haunts him

so he needs for sam to be the bad guy

he's using his powers, he's hanging out with demons, he's drinking demon blood. he's the monster. he's inhuman

(he's using his powers and hanging out with demons and drinking demon blood and still he's doing less harm than dean, still he's trying to save people. dean can't accept this, because he can't be the rotten one. he'll forgive sam anything, but never himself, so it has to be sam. because he can fix sam, he'll always love his brother, so if he's evil there's stil a path forward there. but if it's dean? if he's the one going evil? sam's left him before. why would he stay now? if dean is the one going darkside then he loses everything. himself. his brother. it has to be sam)

dean is projecting all his own shit onto sam because he can't deal with any of it, which is why he treats sam like shit, why he treats him in a way that he's never treated him before. it's how he treats himself. and sam has no idea what to do with this, is left reeling and hurt and broken himself by dean doing this to him. sam never thought dean would leave him to die in the panic room, because dean wouldn't, not the dean he's known his whole life, not the dean that loves him. not alone.

but dean would do that to himself. and since sam is his proxy for himself, it's what he does to sam, but sam doesn't know that so all he feels is the weight of betrayal and grief and rage

isn't it funny, almost? the demons brought sam back just as he was, exactly the same. the angels bring back dean but he's not the same. dean comes back wrong, comes back different. but no one wants to say that. to deal with it

having ruby be evil and castiel venerated justifies all of dean's spiraling, all of his punishment. he was right all along, sam was the problem, don't you see?

boring

ruby stays loyal to sam, a demon who chooses something different, who chooses the boy with the demon blood because there's something compelling about sam winchester, as tempting as the apple before eve, and ruby didn't get where she is by knowing better

(remember when sam pulled all the psychic kids together, acted as leader, and resisted azazel? there is a leader in sam, a compassion in him, that azazel had to cheat in order to beat. and if ruby can show him how to win against demons then-)

castiel let sam out of the panic room. he's following orders, because that's his job, and damn the consequences. this should have been seen as the act of betrayal and evil that it was, castiel proving he was never really on their side at all, never on the side of preventing harm. it also would have made his redemption arc mean something, it would have given castiel a lot more to work with if they'd had to really bring him back over

ruby realizes too late what killing lilith means. tries to stop sam, but now that she's here it's too late, kill or be killed. sam accepts that, is willing to die rather than start the apocalypse. but then dean is there, and he can't watch his brother die again, he just can't. so he kills lilith to save dean, when he would have been willing to die himself

ruby gets them out of there. they discover what castiel did, that he pushed forward the apocalypse rather than prevented it

this breaks dean. he finally snaps, but it's good, because everything he'd used to shore himself up before had been terrible and rotted and corrosive

a righteous man is not a good man. dean is forced to confront everything he's done in hell, and after he'd gotten back, everything he put sam through, how he left him in that panic room and almost killed him, how he's treated him for the past year. how it was a demon who tried to help in the end and an angel that damned them

and how sam saved him anyway, damn the consequences

we should have returned to what the show had been building up to from the beginning - that sam loves his brother enough to do terrible things and dean has no idea how to deal with that

so we've got sam and dean on the run with ruby, castiel's slower and much juicier redemption arc, and dean having to pick up the pieces of himself while sam tries to figure out how he gets them out this mess. and sam's guilt is justified here, his aching sense of responsibility, because this time he kills lilith knowing it'll free lucifer. he makes that choice, for dean. and he's determined to fix it

just. demon blood tainted sam and turncoat ruby trying to save the world. the angels trying to end it. all while dean finally accepts the crushing guilt of what he's done and starts to work through it, starts to work on becoming the brother sam lost, on once more being the steady thing sam can hold onto no matter what it takes, because sam choosing him reminds him of something he'd told himself he forgot

he doesn't want to be a righteous man, a torturer, a demon, a victim, a martyr

he just wants to be sam's brother. the one he looks up to, depends on, loves

he wants what he's always wanted

to feel worthy of his little brother's affection

[zepskies]

Hi Zep!! I love your writing so much!

How do you think Dean/Beau/ Ben would react to a surprise pregnancy and if the reader was unsure of keeping it?

Hi there! Aw thank you, anon. 💜

I know you asked me this a while back, but to be honest this is a touchy subject, so I wasn't sure if I wanted to answer it. All I can do is give my honest thoughts based on what I know of these three characters, with all their flaws and personality traits and humanity that goes along with that.

Headcanon: How Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen, and Soldier Boy (Ben) would react to a surprise pregnancy.

(And if you weren't sure about keeping it.)

Tags/Warnings: Established relationship, angst, hurt/comfort, fluff.

Dean Winchester

Once Dean gets past the initial shock, and the inevitable "how did this happen??!", he remembers just how he could've gotten you pregnant. Part of him wants to smile at the memory.

Good times.

He slowly realizes that he's...he's happy.

He never thought that he'd have any piece of "normal" after the way things ended with Lisa. Hell, he never thought he'd find what he had with you, let alone have a kid.

He hasn't told you this, because he's locked it deep within himself and hasn't allowed himself to open that door, but the part of Dean that considered what he would leave behind on this earth if he died--the part of him that wanted a family, is still there, beating in his heart. Maybe now he's finally getting his chance.

But he focuses on you.

He gauges your reaction, and his urge to smile falls away when he realizes you're more nervous and freaked out than excited.

Dean sits down with you, taking your hands to calm you down. He suppresses his own feelings on this for a moment, and he asks you the important question.

"What do you wanna do?"

You look up into his eyes, and you really don't know. The hunting lifestyle you both lead, how can you bring a child into this? Would that be right? Are you even ready to be a mom? Are you even capable?

"I don't know if I can..." you confess. "Dean, I don't know if I'm ready."

It breaks Dean's heart, though he tries not to show it.

For once, he thinks hard about what he's going to say next.

Eventually, he takes a deep breath and squeezes your hands.

"I get it," he says. "Whatever you want to do here, I'll back you up. But for the record, I'm right here with you. I might be screwed to hell in ways that I can't even...but I got no doubts about you, sweetheart. And I know we could do this together..."

If that's what you want. The rest is implied through his eyes. You read it there, clear as day.

You try blinking your tears away. When that fails, you sink into Dean's warm embrace and let him hold you. You press a lingering kiss against his prickly cheek in a wordless thank you. And I love you.

For now, you know that he's with you, and he's not going to let you go.

Beau Arlen

Like Dean, Beau would go through similar rounds of Oh, dear sweet Lord, and holy shit.

He thought you and him had been careful, damn it! But, apparently he's more potent than he thought he was.

For a few moments, it's just pure unadulterated silence between you two...until he looks over at you and tries to figure out what you're thinking.

He's got a half-grown daughter, sixteen going on seventeen. He's approaching his mid-40s. He hadn't even been thinking about the possibility of another kid...at least not yet.

Though he can admit, the thought of having kids with you makes him smile.

"So, uh..." he trails, earning your teary-eyed expression. He softens. "Aw, darlin'. Come 'ere."

He wraps you up in his arms and holds you close. You bury your face into his neck and sniffle, holding onto him tightly.

You love Beau. You truly, truly do, but you don't know if you're ready for this. You had plans, things you wanted to do, things you feel you have to do.

"I don't know, Beau. I don't know what to do," you admit. You don't want to hurt him, even though you know that you are. You can see it in his eyes when you pull back to look at him, though he tries to hide it.

"I'm not going anywhere. You know that, right?" he says. His voice is low and steady. He rubs your back to try and calm you down.

It starts to work. You nod and heave a shaky sigh.

Then you steel yourself, and you work past the fear making your chest tight to ask him an important question.

"What if I tell you that I'm not ready?" you ask.

For once in his life, Beau is quiet. He takes a long beat. So long that your heart begins to break.

But he does answer.

"Then I'd tell you...that I love you," he says. "That I'm with you. That I'll be with you, come whatever. But I gotta tell you...I got no problem being an old-ass dad. If I've got double-knee replacements in my future, then that's just what I gotta do. I'll break my hand building the crib and the porch swing. Hell, I'll build a whole damn tree house."

You can't help but break into giggles through your tears, in the way only Beau manages to accomplish. You stroke his cheek and rest easier against him.

Your heart eases quite a lot just being in Beau's supportive embrace.

Soldier Boy (Ben)

Ben isn't all that shocked when you tell him that you're pregnant.

His surprise quickly fades into a pleased grin, and he pulls you into his lap to kiss you. Fucking finally...

But he stops short, realizing that you're not as happy as he expected you to be. Actually, you look anxious, and even scared.

"What's the matter?" he asks, his voice deep and direct.

You hesitate to meet his gaze, but you gain the courage to do so, resting a hand on his chest.

"Ben, I wanted to be honest with you, and so I am. I'm just...I'm not sure about this."

His brows furrow. "What's not to be sure about?"

Your gaze drops from his, making him frown. Upset begin to rise in his chest, disguised as anger. When you rise to get off his lap, he grasps your hand to stop you from walking away from him.

"Hey..." But then it hits him. The realization dawns, and deep inside, it hurts him. "You better not be saying what I think you're fucking saying."

Tears begin to well up in your eyes. Your heart clenches tight in pain just watching him work it out in his mind. You try to tug your hand out of his.

"Ben, please. Don't make this harder for me--"

He stands, but doesn't let go of you.

"What, you think I won't take care of you? You think I wouldn't take care of my own kid?" he says angrily.

"That's not it!" you say, shaking your head. "I just need some time to think, for Christ's sake!"

"What's there to think about? If you give a shit about us, about what we have? What, all of that isn't fucking good enough for you?" Ben says incredulously, gesturing at the home you two live in, and the life he thought you were happy with. "What the fuck is the problem?"

You look up at him in frustration with tears in your eyes, slipping down your cheeks. You shake your head at him.

This," you say. "This is the problem."

This time, when you tug sharply against his hold, Ben actually lets you go. You walk away from him and slam the door to your bedroom.

Ben just stands there for a while. The silence is only broken when he can hear you in the bedroom, trying to muffle your weeping.

Something unsavory churns in Ben's chest, squeezing tight around his heart. It's the sting of regret, both unfamiliar and irritating.

Blowing out a sigh, Ben cards his fingers through his hair. He can either stand here like an idiot, or he can do something worthwhile.

He goes to you. You haven't locked the door (not that that would matter), so he opens it. He sees you burrowed under the covers, laying on your side away from him. You turn away from him again when he approaches.

Almost hesitantly, he sits down beside you, smoothing a hand over your hair.

"Sweetheart, you're gonna have everything you need. You don't need to worry about anything," he says.

"I told you, it's not about that," you say sharply. "It's not about money, or being comfortable."

Ben endeavors to be calm. He counts to five in his mind, then he squeezes your shoulder, taking pains to be gentle.

"Then what's it about?"

After a beat, you finally turn around to face him.

"I just don't know if I'm ready for this," you admit. "We haven't been together that long, and I..."

Ben shakes his head. He strokes your cheek with his thumb.

"Don't worry about that," he says. He hesitates to say anything more.

The truth is, he cares about you more than he's been willing to express. The thought of you leaving him, or even not going through with this pregnancy--both cut him down to the bone.

Is it that you don't trust him? Do you not trust yourself? He doesn't understand all of what's in your head, but if the reason you're not sure about having his kid really is because of him, then...

His curled fingers brush along your jaw and prop under your chin, until your eyes meet his.

"Look, whatever reservations you have about me, just know this," he says. "I'm not going anywhere."

You sigh softly. You know how long Ben has wanted to be a father. You know he wants a family. You don't want to take that away from him, but you also need to protect yourself.

You consider his words carefully, as well as his face, and you see that he actually means it. You believe him.

It doesn't take away other concerns you have, but it's a start.

You sit up in bed, letting the sheets slip away from you. You reach up a hand to cup his bearded cheek.

He lets you guide him down to kiss you, his arm wrapping around you strong, but noticeably gentle. Tears sting behind your closed eyelids.

Maybe he is ready to be a father, and a better man.

AN: 😮‍💨 This one was angsty, huh? I think Ben's part was the one that held me up the most. It still assumes he's had some character growth from having a "real," actually caring relationship, but I tried not to sugarcoat what I think his reaction would be.

Let me know what you think! 💜

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[casdeans-pie]

If I could pitch season 16 of Supernatural:

Dean wakes up and it turns out that everything from 15x18 was an Empty Nightmare because he actually grabbed Cas just before he got taken, so got pulled in too.

Sam and Jack have been trying to get them both out for 5 years.

Jack still got the God Powers but he's whimsical with them and retains his personality. He wants to try and preserve human free will. But also helps in small ways where he can. (and still pops into the bunker for a bowl of cereal from time to time)

Sam is the 'new Bobby' in the MOL bunker - sending out hunters and knowing all the lore about all the monsters. (Also he practices witchcraft on the side)

No blurry wife - Sam and Eileen are engaged - and no Dean Jr. But! they are considering having a kid soon. And! They can get married now that Dean and Cas are back!

Dean and Cas heartfelt reunion!!! Clinging hug!!!! Never let me go again!!!! We're not talking about the confession but we both want to!!!!! etc etc

Cas is still an angel and Jack offers to make him an archangel !! Cas feels like he should say yes out of obligation (even if he doesn't want to leave) but Dean actually FINALLY asks him. to stay? (Cas immediately declines Jack's offer)

Dean struggles with the memories of his Empty Nightmare. (It was just SO bad. But also he tries to describe Old Man Sam and his bad hair and that cheers him up.)

The original Death is back because he never really died, he just didn't want to be involved in all the Winchester shenanigans. But he's back now that all the world-ending chaos is over. (Tessa is also back as his second-in-command)

Billie is the new ruler over the Empty, and it's a place of eternal rest now. Very peaceful. Meg is there and she's having a great time relaxing.

Crowley comes back as a human for a second chance. He's still kind of an ass but he's lovable with it.

Lots of reunions and cameos. It's magic you can bring all sorts of characters back to life - a lot of them died unfairly in the first place. Bring them all back!

Dean! and! Cas! Kiss!

I want all the genres of kiss. Confused. Desperate. Relieved. Passionate. Tender.

The season is all very character focused and character driven and ties up any loose ends the show had left.

The drama comes from internal character struggles and with Dean and Cas figuring out where they fit into this 5 years on world now. (The answer is together doing whatever they want to and Dean comes to the realisation he wants to retire, but he struggles with reconciling that he wants to retire and Sam doesn't and they have to go on different paths now).

The series ends with the big Sam/Eileen wedding and it's just a huge party and gathering of all the cameos you can possibly think of. Friends, family, frenemies, some beloved characters who only appeared in one episode... they're all there.

Dean proposes to Cas by taking the loop from Baby's keys out of his pocket and getting down on one knee and using it like a ring stand-in (it's way too big but it's symbolic and cheesy and sweet and it doesn't matter)

Of course he says yes.

The end.

[prentissluvr]

sorry won't cut it — sam and dean winchester

pairing : sam and dean winchester x gn!sibling!reader ➖⟢ genre : angst, hurt/comfort ➖⟢ cw : set in season 8 LOL, sam and dean are kind of/definitely assholes to reader, swearing, arguments, crying, use of kid, kiddo, honey, and sweetheart to refer to reader, only light editing ➖⟢ wc : 4K summary : you meet up with sam to discover that dean is back from purgatory, and both have been keeping secrets from you.

when sam answers your call, it comes as a relief. a surprise, but more than anything, a relief. it’s been two and a half months, almost on the dot, since he’s answered a call. usually it’s just one month. he has a single burner phone just for you, but it’s off half the time, and the other half he never answers.

you’ve grown used to his distance, to an extent. it still stings when your phone rings till voicemail sometimes, but you’ve just been too tired to argue with him, to ask him to comfort you, make him keep hashing through the pain of looking for dean and finding nothing but trouble. 

you want him to have the normalcy, the girl who loves him and makes him feel alright. you want to have faith that he’ll figure out how to factor you into it all eventually, but you still miss him, and you’re still lonely, so you keep calling, never getting angry or upset when he occasionally picks up. you just act like it’s normal, and you can tell he appreciates it, so you keep it up. in return, he asks you over sometimes, tells you each time how much amelia raves about you after you leave, hugs you tight before you go.

it’s been several months since he’s invited you over, and he doesn’t really talk about her anymore. you figure something must have happened, but you never push anything anymore with him.

this call is different. one, because he finally picks up. two, because he tells you to meet up with him, no explanation or normal talk about what you should bring for dinner. three, he asks you to meet at a random address in kansas.

he sighs deep, “just… get here as soon as you can. i’ll send you the location.” then he hangs up and it feels like the hunting life all over again.

⟢

it’s a seven hour drive, and you’re tired out of your mind, high-strung and worn out from leaving right after your shift at a diner full of sleezes who don’t tip enough. even though this whole thing is strange for the new, hunting-free sam, there’s relief coursing through you at the thought of seeing him, hoping he’ll let your tired feet carry you right into his arms. you pull into a driveway of sorts, no obvious entrance to the unremarkable building in front of you, but your years of hunting and meeting up with your brothers at strange places during strange hours after strange calls help you find the door. it's a bunker, one you've never seen before.

you were always a little bit more like sam, disillusioned to the hunter life and the way your father raised you. you weren’t a fighter like him, but you slipped away at eighteen to go to college and found somewhere near stanford so you’d be able to visit sam often. he loved that, always so glad that you got out too. but you were barely gone a year before dean came back to collect you and sam to look for your dad. you came easier than sam, less attached to your new place and always finding yourself missing dean.

that’s what you’d been doing this past year. missing dean, and painfully. so when you knock on the door, calling out, “it’s me, sammy,” you freeze when it opens several beats later.

because the person behind the door isn’t sam. but it is your older brother. just the one who’s been stuck in purgatory for the last year or so, the one you’ve endlessly searched for to no avail.

“dean?” your voice is small as his name slips from your mouth.

his eyes go soft, the way they rarely get, and the slight smile on his lips is half pained, half pure relief to see you after so long. “hey, kid.”

you launch yourself into his arms, and he catches you easy, right there in the doorway, and you have to fend off tears that you know wouldn’t put up so much of a fight if you weren’t so exhausted. but you were raised tough, and winchesters don’t cry all that often, at least not where someone else can see. so you swallow hard and tough it out, letting dean pull away from you and lead you inside. he moves through the house with a sort of ease he’d only have if he felt comfortable and safe there. this raises questions, along with the fact that he's here at all.

you’re speechless, but not for a lack of anything to say. endless questions stream through your mind, each one pushing to be asked, even more desperate to be answered.

but the only thing you can figure out how to say is “hello” to sam when he greets you in the living room. he pulls you into a hug, letting you linger for a moment before you know you have to ask all of the hard questions. something in his face is unreadable to you, which is rare when it comes to your brothers. if you didn’t know any better, you’d think it was a hint of guilt. that rings alarms in your mind, but you brush your nerves aside when dean takes a seat on the couch.

you relax a bit when you sink down next to him, curling into his side a little. it makes you feel a bit childish, but you need it after everything this past year. he doesn’t hesitate to wrap his arm around your shoulders and pull you a little closer. sam sits down across from the two of you and you heave a sigh, wondering where to start.

opening your mouth and forcing words out is like a crack in a dam. everything comes out slow at first, but that lasts mere seconds before the flood.

“how did you… dean, how did you get out? i mean, i tried– i tried everything,” your voice breaks at that word, the weight of it meaning something only you understand. you look at him, brows taught and you’re confused by the surprise on his face, as if he didn’t expect you to say such a thing.

“what do you mean, you tried everything?” he asks, voice suddenly gruff and severe. you recoil from his side to get a better look at him. you don’t miss the look he shoots sam. this is already departing from what you expected, which is probably exactly what you should have expected. it’s just that, when dean hugged you back and he was solid and real and alive, when he sat on the couch instead of a chair so you could sit next to him, you thought that maybe, just maybe, you’d be able to stay tucked safe into his side as they told you what happened, as they asked you to stay with them. 

“what do you mean?” you shoot back. “what, did you think i’d just kick back and call it someone else’s problem?”

“that’s what sam did. that’s what sam said you did.” his voice is accusatory and when you whirl to look at sam, utter bewilderment evident on your face, you can see him physically grimace. which means dean’s telling the truth.

“sam did what?” the question sounds like it’s targeted for dean, but you’re staring the younger down.

“listen, i– no, you know what, i’m not going to explain myself on this again. what do you mean you did everything, you said you were going to school?” sam looks irked and defeated all at once.

“that is completely beside the point, sam, you lied to me?” you ask incredulously, “but you’re not going to explain to me why? why you lied to me or why you apparently didn’t look for dean, i mean are you crazy?” dean’s hand on your shoulder prevents you from standing as your voice grows louder.

“listen, kid, sam and i, we’ve already hashed this out, okay? it’s uh– it’s fine, alright?” with the way he says the word “fine”, you know that it still bothers dean, so you can’t understand why he’d say so. “we’ve got things to discuss here,” dean tries to reason with you before sam can respond. he’s no peace maker, but a full blown fight between the two of you could have an ugly ending.

“things to discuss?” you repeat, in disbelief of the audacity. knowing them, that means they need something from you, which begs the question of why sam asked you over in the first place. you don’t even want to think about them having ulterior motives outside ofjust wanting to see you, so you brush it off angrily. “well, i’m glad to hear that you two have hashed it out, but i haven’t yet, so we can discuss whatever that is later.” you shrug off dean’s hand, trying to focus on the things you’re already angry about instead of asking the even bigger question nagging at you now. when the hell did dean get back that those two had time to hash out something that major? you turn your anger back to sam, thinking about what it was like when dean first disappeared. “you told me you looked. you told me you did all that you could, that you tried everything in your power. now dean’s telling me that you did jack shit?”

sam sighs heavily. “yes, okay. listen, i’m sorry i lied to you, alright? but i just wanted you to try and live your life for once. i figured if i told you i did everything i could, that, i don’t know, maybe you’d give up and try to move on? go to school, do something you love, have real friends, maybe find someone?” he throws his hands up in the air, a defeated gesture because he knows you don’t agree, while he still thinks he did the right thing.

you scoff, because, god, he really has no idea. arms crossed and face the kind of calm that says run to anyone on the other end of your anger, you nod in false understanding. “yeah, what good that did,” you say, your tone so sarcastic and dry that sam just clenches his jaw and dean’s face turns from concerned to full-blown worried. he wonders if he should ask what that means, because whatever it does, it’s certainly not “good.” 

but you pick up again after a moment of thick, dripping silence. “you know, sam, you have absolutely no idea how this past year really was for me. i’m not saying it was easy for you, because i know it wasn’t. though now i know you also skipped the trouble of looking for your stuck-in-purgatory-brother and really, actually lived that hunting-free life you wanted.” sam cringes at the venom in your voice. “all i’m saying is that just about nothing has been all, i don’t know, rainbows and butterflies like you think,” your voice is practically scathing, a tone so rare to both of your brothers that neither knows what to say, “and you know what, sam? it’s looking to me like i’d be a lot better off if you’d just decided to tell me the goddamn truth.”

sam says your name, tentative like he’s testing hot waters, “i thought you said things were going well. you said you liked school, that you were making friends there? just explain to me what you mean so we can figure this out.”

“figure it out,” you repeat under your breath, sticking your tongue against the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something too harsh. “sam, things were going well! they were!” now you’re feeling desperate to make him understand, “but that night you told me there was nothing else we could do, nothing else to try and that i should just do my best to move on? i couldn’t, sam, i couldn’t do that. there had to be something more we could do, so i gave up on the things you said you did and i went further. i let you think i was fine, that i was doing what you wanted for me because you always sounded so tired. you always sounded like one more thing on your plate would make the sweet little life you built with a girl and a dog come crashing down, so i made sure you wouldn’t have to worry about me.”

dean’s voice is uncharacteristically soft when he does his best to make his interruption gentle. he doesn’t want to upset you more, but you can hear the tension in his voice when he asks, “kiddo? what do you mean by you ‘went further?’”

suddenly you shrink in on yourself, your lower lip caught between your teeth and your eyes shining with fresh tears. “dean–,” your voice breaks before you can even say anything else. his hand is on your back, meant to be comforting, but it only makes you feel worse about it all. you know how much dean would hate the lengths you went to to try and get him back. “i can’t–” you shake your head, “i can’t right now, but maybe… maybe if you’d told me the truth, sam, if i’d just started by reading through all of bobby’s books like you said you did, things would have worked out differently.”

“well, maybe if you told me you were going to keep trying, i could have helped you!” sam fires back.

you let out a strangled, frustrated noise as you stand, unable to keep sitting down. “would you? really? because i really don’t think you would’ve! you were so focused on moving on from losing dean that you distanced yourself from me, too! you barely picked up, never called, only talked about dean in three word sentences to tell me a lie about how you tried and failed to find anything to help! maybe if you paid any attention to me, gave any indication that you wanted to help or see me or be a major part of life like i wanted of you, i would have opened up to you!” it makes you even more angry when your voice turns teary, “and for once, i wanted to try to be the one to take care of you two. i kept my secrets, i never let on how fucking lonely i was, just so you wouldn’t worry about me!” a stunned silence falls over you brothers, sam’s guilt beginning to overrun his natural response of anger, and dean making up for that fading anger with his own. your chest heaves with laboured breath as you stare sam down.

dean’s tone is icy as he breaks the silence, “sam, is that really how you treated them while i was gone?” 

sam exhales hard, ignoring dean in favor of looking at you, “i was just doing what i thought was the best for both of us. i didn’t know, okay, i’m sorry.”

“are you kidding me?” you exclaim, voice turning shrill and growing louder by the second, “people got hurt, on my account,” you have to force that part out through gritted teeth, “i got kicked out of school, and i spent three months running from hunters!” both sam and dean want to interrupt at that, but you keep going, your voice quieter now, but harsh and trembling, “but you were doing what you thought was best for both of us? try what was best for you. dean was gone, and i needed you, sammy, i needed you and the second you said you needed to get away, alone, i knew i didn’t have you.”

that shuts him up, has him deflating and his guilt taking over, and you can see it and you hate it. you almost wish he’d get angry instead because that means you can keep shouting at him to try and make him understand. but all you get are his clenched jaw, his sad eyes, and his guilty silence that tell you he knows he fucked up but he can’t figure out a way to make it better since sorry sure as hell won’t cut it.

it’s dean who cuts into the heavy silence again. “sam.” his name hangs in the air, weighed down with unspoken words. “we’ll talk about this later,” you guess is the message. you can feel how angry dean is without even looking at him. you know all he ever asked of sam if he was gone was to take care of you, and now dean knows he didn’t. then his attention is back on you. he says your name, clear and careful. “i’m gonna need you to tell me what you did, okay?”

you wipe at your face angrily as you whirl to face dean. trying to keep the ever present tears at bay, you tap right back into your anger. but it's more tired this time, less convincing with your voice taut from unshed tears begging to be released.

“all that, and that’s what you take away from this? really, dean? you’re gonna need to know what i did? i don’t need you to tell me to know that– that it was wrong and i don’t need you to make me feel any more shitty than i already do right now, okay?”

it’s his turn to wear a look of guilt on his face, but it only sits there for a flash before he keeps going. “kid, that’s not what i’m tryna’ do here, alright? i just wanna understand so i can keep us safe, yeah?” he puts his hands out in a peaceful motion, but something else unresolved floats back up into your focus.

“no. dean, no! because there’s something else here, something both of you have been avoiding this entire time!” there’s a sudden change in the air, like both of them are holding their breath, silently begging you won’t ask the question. “dean, how long have you been back?”

his hesitancy to answer tells you everything. “kid, listen, that’s not imp–”

“don’t you dare say it’s not important! did you hear anything i just said, dean? anything about how shit my life has been since you’ve been gone, how lonely i’ve been?”

“you’re right,” sam relents, forging on before dean can stop him, “he’s been back for three months now. it’s my fault we didn’t tell you. it’s all my fault, and believe me, i am so sorry.” you collapse into a chair with your head in your hands as he continues, “i know that does nothing to fix things, but i am sorry, and i promise i will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to you, kiddo. i’m all in now, and i did it all so this wouldn’t have to be your life, but you’re here now and we want more than anything to have you around, okay?” 

you lift your head up to stare at him. “three months.” your voice is dangerously quiet. “you two…” your tired mind can’t think of words strong enough, “drive me insane, you know that? dean, you just– you just went along with that and decided, let me guess, that it was best for me? because i was at school, living a normal life and away from the danger of this one? is that it? it’s best for me not to know my brother’s alive? because, you know, that reminds me of something. hm, maybe the time sam hid from us that he was alive for a year because he didn’t have his fucking soul? oh, yeah, it must be that.” you let out a short bark of laughter, but it and your voice are completely devoid of any humor. dean visibly recoils when you mention that. he’s thought of it, and still decided to keep you in the dark. “come on, dean, you know how that feels and you go and do it to me again? really?”

you’ve beat him too. “honey,” he sighs, “i’m sorry. we were wrong to do that to you, okay?”

finally, you think you might be out of things to say, to be hurt about. your voice is quiet and fragile now, and the dam holding back your tears is fractured in a million places, more than ready to break. “i missed you so much. both of you,” you whisper. you meant to make a scathing comment about how “sorry” and “we were wrong” don’t even begin to cover it, but you find that you’re not in complete control of the things coming out of your mouth. you’re just too goddamn tired. dean is crouching in front of you in an instant.

“i missed you, too, sweetheart. so much. i’m so sorry.” he takes it as a good sign that you let him place his hand on your knee. you want to flick it away, maybe shove him away too.

“and i was so, so lonely. i was so scared,” you sob out, wishing you didn’t have to cry when you got angry. “and i’m so mad that you two did this to me.”

“i know, kiddo, i know. i’m sorry.” gently, slowly, he tugs you towards him and into his arms and you slide onto the floor and cry into his chest, shaking and unable to say a thing. you want to tell him this doesn’t make it right, but dean hushes you gently when you try. “shhh, it’s okay, just let it out, alright? i got you. i got you,” he comforts. it’s true that this doesn’t make it right, but it’s almost all you need in that moment.

“sammy,” you choke out, still so angry with him, but wanting him near anyways, knowing that he’s too scared to come close to you after coming face to face with all of the things he did wrong. his hand is on your back a moment later, hesitant at first, then strong and soothing moments later when you blindly grab for the fabric of his flannel to keep him close.

“okay. okay, i’m here. i’m sorry. i’m here now, i promise,” he whispers, silently letting a few of his own guilty tears fall.

utterly exhausted, you stay slumped on the floor in dean's arms when your tears dry up. you can barely keep your eyes open and your breathing is soft and slow. 

“let’s get you to bed,” dean whispers, hoisting you all the way into his arms and up as he stands. “sam’ll grab you a glass of water.” you sigh an imperceptible sigh because you know that dean is still pissed at sam. rightfully so, you’re more than just pissed at both of them, but you’re too tired to care in this moment, and the last thing you want is for them to be angry at each other. that’s your job for when you wake up hours from now. 

dean sets you down in a foreign bed pulling the blankets over you, and sam is back moments later with the promised glass of water and tissues for your face. you curl up and tug at the covers slightly, eager to fall asleep.

“see you in the morning,” you mumble, effectively dismissing them with your voice hoarse from crying. you close your eyes before either of them can say a thing, but your words are also a whisper of the beginning of forgiveness. 

“goodnight, kiddo,” dean says, his voice full of a familiar affection that he only uses for his little siblings as he presses a kiss to your hairline, before disappearing out the door.

you drowsily register the sound of sam setting the glass of water on the night stand by your head. “i’m right across the hallway if you need anything.” a moment, then, “goodnight,” and a gentle hand on the side of your head before a kiss to your temple.

you fall asleep coming up with a list of petty ways you’ll have them make things up to you. neither sam nor dean will be pleased to hear that you’re calling shotgun in the impala for the next three months, minimum. sam for obvious reasons, and dean because he’ll know that means you’ll be taking your job as youngest sibling to annoy the living hell out of him very seriously.

[rainroses45]

My Niece is a Goldfish?

۶ৎ description: Imagine when Dean goes to go pick up Sam from college, not only is the news of John being missing brought up but another little surprise was on its way. Dean Winchester x fem! reader ۶ৎ a/n: I have like 4 different incomplete stories in my notes app rn and I'm just so lazy because who the hell wants to read my garbage when people want smut but oh well i tried…not my best not my worst idc (Not edited) ۶ৎ song inspiration: Back to the Basics - Lana Del Rey ۶ৎ Warnings: ZIP ZERO NONE NADA

“Woah dude, why is there a car seat in the back?” Sam stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at the floral pink booster.

Dean had just broken into his apartment like a serial killer in the middle of night, dragged Sam out into the street after somehow convincing him to join him on trying to locate their dead beat father, and now there is a missing infant.

“Great.” Sam thought, “Dean caused an Amber alert.”

“Shit!” Dean scurried to the impala, hoping - no, praying that his brother developed cataracts or something. “I told them not to leave the car.”

“Them?!” Sam followed Dean around the impala. “What are you talking about?!”

“I told her not to leave,” Dean angrily said while dialing your number, “and what does she do,” he puts the flip phone to his ear, “she leaves.”

“Dean,” Sam walked over to him, still being completely ignored, “hellloooo??” He waved his hands in front of his older brother. “Who are you talking about?”

“Pick up, pick up,” Dean ignore him, anxiously tapped his thigh looking around, waiting for the phone to stop ringing, and your voice to answer.

“Okay if you are about done now with your little tap routine, I’m going back-“ Dean grabbed Sam’s shirt pulling him back like a dog on a leash.

“They couldn’t have gone far-” He shoved the flip phone in his pocket, frantically searching the area with worried eyes. “Dean let go man…” “You take that direction and I’ll check this side, maybe if we..”

“Dean, sweetie did you find Sam?”

And is if the lights from heaven sent a giant satellite beam on you, Dean turned around blindly searching for your voice.

“Oh my dear cream of tartar where have you been?!” Dean flared his hands down looking at you like you’ve been missing for months.

“Okay what the actual fuck is going on?” Sam was close to just throwing his duffle bag at the window, heading back into bed, and taking a melatonin.

Dean waved him off unfortunately to his demise. “Not right now bowl head I just saw all of my lives flash before me.”

“You’re such a baby.” You commented. You held what looked like to sam a tiny sack of potatoes with a pink blanket covering it from the winds.

“Does that mean I get to-“

“NO!” Both you and Sam scream - both for different reasons but the same sense of warning nonetheless.

“Okay can someone explain to me what is happening right now?”Sam ran his hands through his hair desperately trying to contain a forming headache from all this mojo of chaos.

“Well my dear Sammy, while you went off to college I decided to adopt the brady brunch- what the fuck do you think happened?” Dean rolled his eyes in annoyance walking over to you and the baby.

Sam now able to adjust his eyes realized the sack of potatoes turned out to be a little baby with the rosiest checks ever.

“I didn’t think you would end up with child.” Dean groaned at Sam’s comment.

“What are we the England Monarch? No of course I didn’t plan on bringing a baby into this world but stuff happens..” Dean trailed off, shrugging his shoulders like it was no big deal. Sam on the other hand was having a whole mental gymnastics session trying to figure out how the hell things changed so fast.

“How is my little precious princess doing,” your husband pulled the blank down gently to see his daughter’s beautiful eyes peak out. She had the same sparkle and shape as yours to the point he could even see the tiny hew surrounding the pupil - she was beautiful.

“Sorry for leaving sweetheart,” you said to Dean, watching his cute reaction to his daughter gazing up at him. “She was getting fussy in the car waiting so I decided to take her on a little stroll.” You moved her down to your arms, cradling her into your chest.

“Would it have killed you to answer the phone at least?” Dean sighed as the rate of his heart finally matched his breathing.

“Sorry my phone died.” You knew your husband would be worrying about you but by the time you thought to call, you phone screen turned black with a red battery sign on.

“That’s okay just- I don’t know, shoot a flare gun or something just please don’t leave without telling me.”

“I won’t.” You smiled. He in return left a soft kiss to your check and a butterfly kiss to your daughter. She smiled at her father’s touch, making you both smile back; hearts so full with love, before the moment was ruined.

“So I have a niece?”

“No you have a pet goldfish, suprise!” Dean sparkled his hands around annoyingly, if he had known picking up his brother would be this tiring he might have just let Sam be stuck in his cob web filled books. . “How the hell you got into Stanford is beyond me.”

“That’s enough Dean,” you snickered as your husband rolled his eyes. “I think it’s nice to see you again Sam, although on different circumstances would have been nice.” You walked towards the impala, Dean already opened the back door for you as you hopped in with your little princess.

“Wow I just- I never took you as a father figure,” Sam looked down shocked, “I mean I didn’t even see you as one to settle down - no offense Y/n.”

“Umm very much taken Samuel.” You had been dating Dean since you both were 15, so to say he wouldn’t stick around after the shit show of high school was highly offensive.

“Everyone buckle up,” Dean readjusted his review mirror starring at you, as you buckled in your seven month old daughter. His whole life in the back of his car.

Sam clipped in his seatbelt, “Soooo am I going to have to interrogate the baby for answers orrr..”

“This is going to be a long car ride.” You smiled as Dean groaned.

“Well it all started when…”

[willowsages-blog]

the charming man: Dean Winchester x female reader

Warnings: demon Dean x innocent female reader

“It’s not going to fit.” You say warily.

“We both know that’s not true.”

Dean's sitting in front of you, hand lazily moving up and down. You raise an eyebrow.

“Are you forgetting you took my virginity like only a week ago?”

He smirks at that, hand movements speeding up slightly.

Dean has spent the past week fucking you, spending all his free time trying to get you in bed with him. He seemed to be insatiable, having had a taste of you and not wanting to let go.

You were brushing your teeth one evening when he comes up behind you, snaking his arms around your waist.

You smile around your toothbrush, always welcoming the presence of your boyfriend. You had just figured this was his typical clinginess, wanting to be beside you every minute he can until you fully take him in through the mirror, noticing his appearance was different.

His hair was tousled as if he’s been running his hands through it for the past couple of minutes, and he was already planting sloppy kisses along your neck, trailing from your collarbone upwards.

He’s suddenly murmuring into your ear, “Wanna see you on top of me, angel.”

Everything you two had done for the most part has been pretty standard, missionary every night and alternating sloppy head in the morning.

You hadn’t ventured too far into the sex world, and now that he was bringing new positions up, nerves were starting to ignite in your stomach.

“ I, I don’t know how.” You admit, knowing that that was already obvious to him. However, you were still caught up in wanting to impress him and make every new experience for you even better for his years of experience.

“Don’t care, I’ll show you.” He mumbles, still focused on marking up your neck, moving on to another side when he gets bored of the other.

Which is how you found yourself standing in front of him, you still in bra and underwear as he’s completely naked.

He’s stroking himself, watching you like you're his own personal playboy, and you can’t help but clench your thighs at the imagery.

“C’mere.” Dean grabs your waist, pulling you, so you’re directly on top of his upper thighs. You squirm slightly, and Dean can feel you dripping onto his leg.

“Why don’t you want to?” He’s not teasing you, just simply wanting to understand your boundaries and ease any nerves.

“Are you forgetting the part about you being too big?” You roll your eyes.

While he had been able to bottom out since the first time, it still was a stretch, and he had to prepare you every time, fingering and eating you out before he could finally chase his own relief.

You were unsure how you were going to be able to focus and be in control like how he clearly expected; you were so used to him guiding you through everything.

You trusted Dean, knowing that he would never settle for anything less than the best for you.

And you know this was all still part of a deep-rooted insecurity of him having more experience than you, but he leans up to kiss you deeply,

and you’re moving on his thighs again, dragging wetness across his tattoo. He groans lowly in his throat, looking down at the small wet spot on his leg before looking back up at you.

“Want you to fuck me. Please - angel.” There’s something so pretty about the way begging sounds coming from him that you nod, knowing that he could drag you to hell and back if he asked nicely enough.

You lean in to kiss Dean, feeling brave, and slowly slip your mouth open, tongue brushing against his. You position yourself, so you’re sitting on top of him as he trails his kisses down your neck and chest, leaving dark marks along the way.

“ I know you’re wet for me, want it just as much as I do.” He murmurs after a particularly harsh suck on your collarbone, dragging a finger under your clothed center to prove his point.

You buck your hips slightly, missing the way he drags his finger, so it just barely brushes your clit, and Dean gets the message, pushing one finger in between your slit.

You’re used to this, familiar with the way he fingers you and stretches you out so you can take all of him.

He adds another and then another, watching at the way your body takes three of his thick fingers.

In his defense, he is patient. He curls his fingers inside of you, repeatedly moving as you continue to leak more and more for him. You moan slightly, chest arching into him.

You keep moaning, louder and louder, until your cumming all over his hand, only the first orgasm of the night.

“Fuck, you sound so pretty for me, angel.” Your face heats up slightly, hiding in his shoulder while he sucks your arousal off his fingers shamelessly.

You’re still not used to his excessive praising even if your body reacts differently. Still,

it does light a fire in you, wanting to keep hearing the sweet compliments come out of his mouth.

He's helping you get undressed, unclasping your bra and tearing your underwear off until you push him back,

making sure he’s flat against the bed and rising so your pussy is directly above him.

Dean watches intently, eyes never leaving the way you slowly sink down on him.

He lets you get adjusted, getting used to the fact you can feel every throbbing inch of him. You both let out a soft moan,

his head falling back when you slowly rise back up.

You get to the point where only his tip is still inside you before dropping back down again, slowly grinding up and down his dick.

It’s not breakneck, nothing too incredible, you still trying to get used to the pace and too wrapped up in your own head on what’ll make him feel good.

, Dean, however, is in his own world. On Cloud 9, as he watches you drag yourself up and down, up and down.

His eyes are glued to where the two of you are connected,

trying to commit every single moment to memory, so he never forgets this.

“Look so fucking good like this.” He growls, placing a hand on your ass, not doing anything but to ground himself in this euphoria he seems to have found himself in.

He leans up to suck on your nipple, harshly sucking on your tit while playing with the other.

You whine loudly, rhythm faltering as his tip grazes against your g-spot.

“Fuck, Dean. So big.” The only thing that comes to mind, is because he is. Even underneath you,

you feel overwhelmed by just him: by his body, by his dick, by the twisted look of pleasure on his face,

by the low grunts that keep spilling out whenever you twist your hips a certain way. It’s overwhelming, and his presence seems larger than life when he’s stretched out like this underneath you.

He wraps an arm around your waist, noticing how your pace is slowly starting to falter as you get tired, and starts thrusting up into you, planting his feet so he can reach even further and deeper than before.

Your moans pick back up, watching as his face is set in concentration.

It’s funny how you had set out on making this night about him, and yet he’s grinding his hips into yours, set on making you cum before him.

He smiles smugly up at you, watching as your eyes roll back when he thrusts deep inside.

“Shit, Dean. I thought I was supposed to be - fuck” You whine out the last part loudly, him moving his hand down to rub your clit. “ S'posed to be fucking you.”

He doesn’t say anything, choosing to watch your body tremble slightly above his. Between your tits in his mouth, him rubbing your clit, and the incessant rolling of his hips, your orgasm is fast approaching.

Your nipple pops from his mouth, nipples wet and shiny from his spit as he looks up at you with his pupils blown.

“Wanna see you cum all over my dick instead.” And if his actions before didn't do it, how fucking wrecked his voice sounds causes you to squirt harder than you ever have before,

your orgasm lighting every part of your body alive as your body trembles on top of him. You moan loudly, collapsing on top of him as ragged breaths come out of you, trying to catch your breath.

Dean keeps thrusting underneath you, too close to his own release to want to stop and feel the way you squeeze tightly around him, your own high forcing his body into overdrive. He’s snapping his hips relentlessly, and it’s almost too much for your body to handle, pubic bone brushing your clit into overstimulation.

You whine out, not knowing whether it’s for him to stop or keep going. But one look at the fucked out, determined look on his face gives you your answer for you.

“Baby,” you purr. “Cum.” It’s a simple demand, but it’s enough to get Dean to falter, Cumming deep inside you as he grinds through his orgasm. He lets out a deep, guttural moan, you are getting used to the familiar feeling of him pulsing inside you.

He leans back onto the pillow, you falling on top of him. Both your chests rising and falling in tandem, as you listen to his erratic heartbeat try to find a steady rhythm.

“Have I ever mentioned how fucking hot you are?”

“Once or twice, yeah.” You mumble, sleepiness falling over you.

“You’re fucking incredible. That- that - was fucking incredible.” You start to grow shy under his constant praise and are quick to point out his work as well.

“Even if you did half the work?”

“Next time, you can be in charge,” Dean promises.

You smile wickedly, not even trying to hide the mischief in your eyes.

“Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

[bachiras-toaster]

dazai teaches you how to suck dick : ̗̀➛

OSAMU DAZAI x f!reader

cw. nsfw virgin!reader, dick sucking, hand job, alcohol consumption

wc. 2.9k

When the two of you arrived at Dazai’s apartment to hang out after a long evening at the Agency, you had already made yourself comfortable on his couch as he placed the pizza boxes he had ordered on the coffee table in front of you.

"Nice!-" You beamed, taking a slice before your best friend even had the chance to sit down.

"Hey, don't get too comfortable there without me." The scruffy-haired man smirked slightly as he took a seat on the other end of the sofa, looking at you over the pizza; also putting a bottle of sake down. "You might want to sit closer." He teased lightly before taking a bite of his own slice.

"Alcohol? I like your way of thinking." You giggled, already having grabbed it by the handle to pour yourself a mix into the cup you had preparedly set in front of you.

Dazai laughed slightly, holding his pizza up in challenge as he watched you pour your drink from beyond his bites.

"You can't resist a drink, can you?" He hummed lightly, pouring his own glass once you had finished. "I knew you’d be all over the bottle as soon as I put it down.”

"You know me so well." You beamed brightly at him, clinking your cups together when he had finished pouring.

“Cheers." He exclaimed with a small smirk before taking a sip from his cup, watching intently as you did the same. Your willingness to drink with him had always amused him, and he couldn’t help but smirk as he felt the need to take advantage of the situation with the spark of an interesting conversation. "So to pass the time... Let's play twenty questions."

"Twenty questions? Alright." You giggled, already beginning to tap your chin thoughtfully. "Well, I've known you for quite a while, so there aren't a lot of questions I could ask, so I'm gonna try to be reall obscure about what I say..." A lightbulb seemed to flicker in your mind. "Aha! What's the worst thing you've been told off for during your school days?"

The man just chuckled lightly at your query before taking another bite of his pizza, considering the question deeply.

"Oh, well, there's been quite a few times I’ve been in trouble. Usually, it's just for something small like talking in class or not turning in an assignment on time." He grinned, taking another sip of his sake. "...But the worst thing I got into trouble for was sneaking a girl into my dorm room. The dean wasn't very happy about it."

"Seriously?!" You chuckled brightly. "Oh my god, you would do that, wouldn't you?" You asked rhetorically with an amused smile. "Okay. now your turn to ask me a question."

Dazai questioned almost immediately, like he had such a question simmering in the corner of his mind for so long.

“What's the one thing you want to do but are too afraid to try?" He asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

You giggled a little, trying to cover your laughs by sipping your drink over your own words.

"Oh, god. This is an embarrassing one..." You mumbled out, hesitant to respond- but figuring you didn’t have a lot to hide from one of your closest colleagues at the Agency. "...I guess probably giving someone a blowjob." She shrugged lightly, bringing her legs up onto the couch to cross them as she drank more.

"Wow— I really expect that from someone who's a virgin." Dazai’s eyes widen slightly in surprise before he quickly recovered and chuckled, trying to keep his expression neutral. "I'm not sure why you’d think that's embarrassing. It's just something you haven't done before." He jabbed, leaning back on the couch slightly. "Don't be afraid to try it. You never know if you'll like it until you do." He teased lightly, enjoying the playful banter between you two.

"Okay, haha, very funny." You feigned an amused expression, rolling your eyes at his virgin comment. "I get it. I'm a virgin and you're a massive playboy."

"Hey, I didn't say I was a massive playboy! I just happen to be a little popular with the ladies.” Dazai grinned, his eyes twinkling with pride. "I have more experience than you, that's all." He leaned forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees.

"...Have you ever gotten a blowjob?" You asked curiously, but you quickly felt like retracting your statement when you realised what kind of question you had just asked- and to your best friend too! "—Nevermind! Forget I asked that—"

"Well, it is twenty questions. If you're going to ask, you might as well know." Dazai shrugged, taking another sip of his drink. "Yeah, I have. Feels good." He smiled slightly, trying not to look too smug about it. "If you ask me, it's nothing you should be scared about trying."

"It's just scary because I'm a—... I haven’t done it before." You grumbled, hiding your lips behind your cup. "Like— I wouldn't even know what to do. And if the guy I lost my v-card to turned out to be an asshole, it'd ruin my whole experience."

“Then you'll just have to find someone who knows what they're doing, then." He winked playfully, his smirk turning slightly teasing. "Or you could always practice on something else beforehand." He casually took another sip of his drink, watching you carefully.

"Oh yeah? And who the hell would be willing to let me practise giving them a blowjob?" You scoffed at his suggestion, only for them to respond in all seriousness.

"I could always volunteer, you know. You know I'd be more than happy to help you out, even if it's just practice."

You froze for a moment, staring blankly at him. You didn't seem to believe that he was being anything but sarcastic in what he was saying, and you just let out a chuckle in order to match what you thought was his playful intention.

"You're funny."

"I try." Dazai chuckled, putting his cup down onto the coffee table to focus his entire attention on you; he couldn't help but grin. "So, are you gonna take me up on my offer or what?" He asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

"Are you being serious?" You asked plainly.

"Of course I'm serious." He couldn't help but tease you a little bit, enjoying the atmosphere between you two. "You know I'd never lie to you." He added. "But then again... Maybe you're to innocent for that." He commented with a grin as he looked away for a second, knowing that it would get a rise out of you.

"I am not innocent!" You put your cup down on the table, your face flushing as you looked sort of offended at the remark.

“Oh, come on, (Y/n)." Dazai chuckled, shaking his head slightly. "You know you are. But that's what makes you so damn cute." He leaned forward, his nose scrunching with an adorable smile.

But you simply furrowed your brows, gnawing your her bottom lip as you seemed to be deep in thought at his abrupt offer.

“…You'd really help me?"

"Of course I would!" He smiled, taking your hand in his. "I'd do anything for you." He leaned back in, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "It'll be our little secret, okay? Just between us. I just know you’d be embarrassed falling into the same palm of mine that so many women have fallen into before.” He boasted, to your reluctant agreement.

"Okay..." You said, watching as he reclined comfortable against the sofa before you began inching closer towards him. "But— I don't know what I'm doing." You gulped, abruptly freezing at the realisation.

“That's what practice is for." Dazai smiled, pulling you closer to him. "Don’t worry! We’ll take it slow, and I'll teach you everything you need to know." He ran his fingers through your hair, savouring the feeling of you sat so meekly opposite him. "I'm actually glad you agreed to this. You have no idea how much I've imagined you in front of me like this."

"What—?" Your face immediately felt warm when he said that.

"Don't pretend like you didn't know." He teased, smirking at you. He leaned in close, his lips close to your ear, whispering softly. "And don't pretend that I'm the only one with such thoughts… You seriously thought I couldn’t hear you the nights you’d let me crash on your couch?”

"What are you talking about?" You asked, reluctant to crawl any further towards him.

"Oh, come on," He chuckled, his eyes sparkling with playful amusement. "You know exactly what I'm talking about." He leaned back against the sofa, patting the spot in front of him. "I've heard you… And it wasn't just the occasional moan," he whispered, his hand stroking along your jaw as he leaned in close. "I'm always getting hard listening to you. Fuckin' my own fist and pretending it's you."

"You— What?" You gulped, your face blushing profusely. You admitted, you did find him a attractive as hell, but never had you thought that he'd have such lewd thoughts about you.

"You were always whispering sexy things in your sleep, about wanting someone to fuck you hard." The man smirked, his hand running gently down your arm before lifting his thumb to trace your collarbone. "It only made me want you more… The fact that you’d be so bold to make those noises while I’m here."

He reached out to take your hand to place it on his crotch, which already seemed to have a tent formed in it due to his erection. You gulped as he forced you to feel his hard-on, and you looked up at him, sweating a little.

"You could... Hear that? I didn't realise I spoke in my sleep..."

“Well, now you know." Your friend smirked, still holding your hand firmly against his crotch. "You were really anything but quiet. But truly. Your voice was like music to my ears." Dazai whispered, holding a smug grin. "I couldn't get enough of it." He leaned in close to your ear, his breath hot against your neck. "And I still can't."

You felt like you couldn’t say anything. You just remained seated where you were, hesitant to crawl further towards him; but your hand was still confidently placed on his pants, which you could feel was growing tighter by the second.

"(Y/n)..." Dazai moaned softly, his hand moving to your thigh. "You're making this so fuckin’ hard for me..!" He chuckled gravelly. "How about this, sweet..." He purred, his fingers lacing with yours as he began to guide you to the space between his legs, his other hand moving down your thigh to tease at you. "If you like the feel of this..." He trailed off, his thumb brushing against your clothed cunt. "Maybe you could return the favor? Come on. I’ll talk you through how to suck dick well.”

After a moment, you just nodded, feeling as if you were complying completely.

“Okay… As long as you tell me what to do…” You sat on your knees between his thighs on the couch, loosening the bands of his sweatpants so you could pull it down— He had helped you with that.

“Atta girl." Dazai murmured, his voice rough with desire as he watched you undress him. He had even leaned back against the couch, giving you plenty of room to work. "Just take your time and pay attention to how I react." He purred, his hand reaching down to guide your hand to his base. "…C’mon... Touch it. Take it all in your hand. Feel how hard it is for you."

As he fished his cock out of his pants, you seemed a little intimidated by how big he was— you started to understand what women saw in him… Had this been the first time you had actually seen a dick in person? You took his length into your palms, trying to adjust yourself to the feeling before looking up at him and awaiting further command.

“Good." Dazai praised softly, his voice hoarse with need. "Now, slowly, start to stroke up and down." He instructed, watching as your hand began to move in time with his words. "Don't worry about being gentle. I like it when you're firm."

You started firmly stroking your hand up and down the length of his cock, interested in how warm he felt in your palm.

"That's it." He encouraged, his hips starting to roll slightly in time with your strokes. "You're doing great." He murmured, reaching down to run a finger lightly over your lower lip. "Tell me... do you like touching me like this?"

“It… Feels okay…” You said softly, continuing to run your hand up and down his cock.

"Just okay?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow playfully. "To me, I'd say it looks pretty fucking hot seeing you touch me like this." He leaned back against the sofa, leaving you more space to work with. “Now, I want you to use your tongue.”

“My—?” You stammered, not stopping your hand movement. “Like… What do I do? Do I just— Do I need to put it all in my mouth?”

"No, not yet." He reassured you. "Just tease me with with your tongue; run it along the underside of my cock." He watched as you complied, his member twitching slightly at your touch.

You leaned down forward a bit so you could run your tongue up the length of his dick. You seemed a little surprised with the surface of how it felt, but you let your taste travel the entire length before you got to the tip, where you swiped a lick over the slit of it.

“Fuck." He hissed, his hips jerking up slightly. "That feels so good." He groaned, his hand sliding into your hair to grip gently. "Keep going, (Y/n)." He encouraged, his voice thick with lust.

You kitten-licked his cock, your tongue licking stripes up his dick like it was some piece of candy. The view of you from above only aroused Dazai more- Which you could tell by the way he subtly attempted to lush your head down.

"Oh god—“ He groaned, unable to get the words out fast enough. "You feel fucking incredible." His hips jerked up, his cock twitching almost painfully against your mouth. "Suck on it, (Y/n), suck me off. Take the tip into your mouth first.” He demanded, his grip on your scalp tightening.

You followed his command, finding the tip of his cock and planting a soft kiss onto it before you took it into your mouth. Once the tip was settled between your wet lips, you began licking at it from the inside of your mouth.

“Oh, fuck." He shakily breathed out, his hand sliding from your hair down to your neck, gripping it lightly. "You're doing so good, baby." He praised, his voice rough with need. "Don't stop, just keep going. Take more of me down as you go.”

You nodded, holding the base of his cock with your hand as you gradually began taking more of his dick inside of your mouth as you sucked on him. Your tongue swirled from his tip down to the veins of his length, your saliva coating his cock.

"Shit." Soft groans were heard from his lips, his eyes closing as he leaned his head back against the couch cushions. His voice was thick with lewd noises, almost hoarse from the sound of it. "(Y/n)— Fuck, that feels so good." Dazai moaned, thrusting his hips forward slightly. "Don't stop, baby. Come on—" He encouraged, sliding his hand down to your cheek to rub lightly.

Your head bobbed up and down on his cock, and you quickly realised that the parts that you couldn’t reach with your tongue, you could just stroke with your palm. Your slurping became more aggressive as you found your rhythm, and the pace in which you sucked him off became more steady.

“Fu-uck—" You could vividly hear his panting, hands gripping the couch behind him. He could feel himself getting close, his hips starting to buck forward more forcefully as he gave in to the pleasure you were giving him. "Your mouth is so fucking amazing, you sure you’re not a virgin?”

You continued, feeling fuelled by his praise and wanting to suck him off more simply because of how much he seemed to enjoy it. You also seemed to get off to how much his muscles tensed at your tongue. Dazai moaned— Almost a little too needily— hips jerking up forcefully. His head was thrown back, eyes closed tight as he tried to get closer.

"Don't stop, don’t stop, don’t stop—“ He whined out. “(Y/n). I'm about to cum. Fuck. Fuck." Dazai’s breathing hitched as he watched you, his fingers tangling in your hair lightly. He could feel his climax building fast, and he knew he wouldn't be able to hold out much longer. "Fuck...”

You kept at the pace you were going at, but your sucking became more desperate as you wanted to know how it would feel to make a guy cum— And partially because of how nice Dazai sounded when he whimpered.

“(Y/n), open your mouth." He ordered, voice low and demanding. He knew he couldn't hold out much longer, and he didn't want to cum in your mouth without permission.

Though thankfully, he didn’t have to. You did as you were told quite obediently, and immediately opened your mouth wide to him, your tongue laid flatly as you let him in. Dazai looked down at your opened mouth, eyes dark with lust. He could feel his climax rushing up fast, his cock throbbing against your soft inside.

"Swallow, (Y/n)." He warned.

As his reddened tip spurt his seed into your wet mouth, you didn’t even need to be told twice before you swallowed it almost immediately without a second thought. Your face seemed to contort a little as you hadn’t expect the cum to taste so salty, nor did you expect it to have such an odd consistency, but you swallowed nevertheless.

Dazai let out a shaky breath, his hips jerking back against the couch.

“Fuck." He panted, unable to believe how good that felt. He looked down, eyes soft and smouldering. "I really shouldn't have let you do that." He sighed as he felt your warmth envelop his cock, swallowing him down. He groaned deeply, his body shuddering from the intense release. "Shit, (Y/n)..."

“Why not…?” You queried innocently, swiping off the cum that dropped from the corner of your lips to swallow in your mouth.

"Because now I want more." He had confessed, running his fingers through her your gently. He leaned down, his lips brushing against your ear. "And I know you're not ready for what I really want." He whispered, his voice low and rough.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Don't Take Her For Granted

Pairing: Jensen Ackles x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~4.2k

Warnings: angst, feeling like second best, fluff at the end

Request by @jessicalynnann: What about one where Jensen wishes he had a normal life with the reader but his wish comes true and he is married to some one else and he is a sports therapist and the reader is his secretary and she gets treated like shit by him and his wife but the only way to break the spell is for him to get the reader to fall in love with him some how

Summary: You and Jensen can’t have what’s normal to most because he’s famous. You’re usually okay with it, but there always comes a tipping point in which you can’t recover from. Jensen’s world is turned upside down, and it’s up to him to figure out how to make things right.

Square Filled: “If I like her, shoot me.” (2021) for @spnquotebingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Life hasn’t always given you what you wanted, but you’ve always had what you needed in the form of Jensen Ackles. He’s been your rock, your safe haven, and your best friend all rolled into one person. Tonight, you two are celebrating your one year marriage anniversary despite dating for nearly five years before that.

This is something you’ve been looking forward to all month and it’s finally here.

Jensen booked a night at one of the most expensive restaurants in town where you have to dress fancy in order to get in. You haven’t had a night off in so long so you were excited to dress up and do your hair and makeup. Jensen has been so busy finishing the 15th season of Supernatural and filming wrapped up last week.

You're so proud of the man he is and you love what he’s done not only for himself but for his fans. Still, you’re kind of happy he’s not actively in another job right now so that you two can focus on yourselves.

Jensen pulls up to the valet and both of you get out in front of the very nice restaurant. Jensen hands his keys to the valet and pulls you in closer.

“Happy anniversary,” he grins.

“Happy anniversary, baby.” You two walk to the front door of the restaurant when you hear Jensen’s name being called. You two look to the right and see two young girls smiling widely. They’re both wearing Dean Winchester shirts that look like they’ve been in the washer one too many times. Still, they look so happy to be seeing their favorite actor. “It’s okay. Go ahead.”

Jensen breaks away from you and walks over to the girls who are head over heels for him. He’s polite and signs what they want signed and takes pictures with them. He keeps their interaction brief before returning to you.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You two head into the restaurant and approach the hostess’s table. “Party of two for Ackles.”

“Right on time. Right this way,” she grins and grabs two menus. She escorts you back to your table, and you sit across from Jensen. “Here are two menus. Your waitress will be over shortly.”

“Thank you,” you smile. You pick up your menu and look through the appetizers. “Wow, these options all look so good.”

“Get a few. Whatever you don’t eat, we can take home. I know how much you love leftovers.”

It’s true, you do. You always order more than you can eat just so you have something to bring home. A young woman walks over to the table, and you set your menu down to give her your full attention.

“Hi, welcome in. My name is Hannah. Can I start you off with any drinks?”

“Yes. I’d like a glass of your Rosé, please.”

“A beer is fine for me, thank you,” Jensen chimes in.

“Great. I’ll let you look over the menu a little longer and put those in for you.”

She leaves and you look at Jensen who is browsing the menu.

“So, Tammy’s wedding is coming up and as her Maid of Honor, I have to plan the bachelorette party for her. I was thinking of a scavenger hunt type thing since I know she loves those. If it’s okay with you, I wanted to create a list of things to buy and that would be the scavenger hunt that way Tammy gets presents as well as the bridesmaids. What do you think?”

“I think that’s great. Sounds like you’ll have a lot of fun.”

“Is everything okay?”

Jensen puts his menu down and sighs. “I wanted to wait until later to tell you this but you need to know now before you plan any wedding events with me. I got offered a role for The Boys. The money is good. A little less than Supernatural, but I think this could be good for us.”

Whatever good mood you had is now gone. You don’t want to show him how disappointed you are but you can’t help it.

“Jensen, you know how happy I am for you, but you just got done with Supernatural. I thought we agreed to take a break for a little bit to spend more time together.”

“Filming doesn’t start for another month.”

You really don’t want to let this ruin your night and it will if you continue to talk about this.

“Can we talk about this tomorrow and just enjoy the night?”

“Sure.”

The waitress comes back with the drinks and you two put your orders in. You’re about to talk more about your sister’s wedding when two men come up to the table shyly at first.

“Sorry to interrupt your evening, but our girlfriends are big fans of Supernatural, and they would kill us if we didn’t at least ask for a picture. Do you mind?”

Jensen looks at you to see your eyes cast down. You grab your wine glass and take two big gulps. Maybe alcohol will numb your senses. You don’t say anything because you know whatever it is will be rude, so you opt for silence.

“Sure.”

The two men go on either side of your husband, and one of them takes a few pictures. The man to the right takes out a notepad and a pen, and you resist an eye roll. You don’t mean to be rude but this is supposed to be a special night for you and Jensen. Still, you don’t want to make a scene so you keep your mouth shut. Jensen signs the paper quickly, whatever will get them away faster.

“Thanks, man. You’re awesome!”

The two men leave, and you look at Jensen silently.

“No more distractions for the night.”

“Okay,” you say, unconvincingly.

Since Jensen has a bladder the size of a pea, that one beer is enough to make him want to pee. The food comes but Jensen is already out of his seat.

“I’ll be right back. Go ahead and start without me.”

“No, I’ll wait,” you smile.

Jensen pees fast so it’s not long until he’s coming out of the bathroom, but he’s stopped by one of the managers. The bathroom is in direct view from where you’re sitting so you can see all of this happening. First, you think something is wrong until Jensen and the manager shake hands with smiles on their faces. The manager takes out his phone and snaps a few photos with Jensen, and that’s the last straw for you.

Now you’re pissed.

Jensen knows you’re waiting for him. He knows the food on the table. Yet he continues to chat with the manager as if they’re lifelong friends catching up. You don’t want to start eating and be almost done before he gets back. By the time Jensen comes back to the table, the food isn’t hot anymore.

“Sorry, I got stopped by the manager,” he says as if you didn’t watch the whole exchange.

“I want to leave. Let’s go home.”

“Y/N.”

“Jensen, the food is cold now. I want to go home unless you still need to take pictures with the bartender. I’m sure he wants one.”

Jensen grows annoyed but he doesn’t say anything that he knows will make the situation worse. Instead, he puts more than enough cash down on the table and grabs his jacket. The entire ride home is filled with tense silence. Even when you get home, you get ready for bed without a word. You didn’t eat anything but you’re too pissed to want to eat something now.

“Look, I’m sorry, okay?”

“You’re always sorry,” you say and walk out of the bathroom.

“What do you want me to do, Y/N? I can’t control people coming up to me in public.”

“No, you can’t, but how about try telling them no for a change instead of giving them what they want?”

“So, what, you don’t like my fans now?”

It’s just like Jensen to take your words and spin them. You grab your extra pillow and slam it on the bed angrily.

“I didn’t say that. You know I adore what you do. I love the fan base you have built. Don’t ever think I won’t support that side of you, but this night was our one year anniversary.”

“I wish I could turn it off. I wish I had a normal life, but this is what’s normal for me… for us. You knew that when you started dating me. You agreed to that when you married me.”

You sigh tiredly and sag your shoulders. You take off your rings and put them in the small seashell Jensen found on the beach one day that you keep on your bedside table.

“I’m tired. I just want to go to bed.”

“I love you.”

You can’t hide the sadness in your smile. This part of his life sucks but you have to find out how to make lemonade with it.

“I love you, too.”

You two get into bed and fall asleep easily. When Jensen wakes up the next morning, he’s alone in bed. He feels the sheets but they’re cold which means you’ve been up for a while. He sits up and wipes the sleep out of his eyes when he notices it. The decor in the bedroom is different. Gone are all of your things, even the small seashell on the bedside table. The walls are void of pictures and the small trinkets you painted and put up. He jumps out of bed and runs into the bathroom but the same thing greets him.

Your side of the sink is free of all of your clutter, bobby pins, stray pieces of hair, and the faint smell of hair products. He runs out of his room hoping to see you on the couch but he pauses before he can get far. Everything in his place is completely different. There is no evidence that a woman has ever lived here. Did you pack up your shit in the middle of the night and leave? He takes out his phone and looks through it, but all evidence of you has been wiped from it. No photos of you two on the couch when you were being lazy. No photos of you two in clay masks when you two had a spa night. No photos of your life with him.

What the hell?

His panic is interrupted by a call on his phone. He sees your name pop up, so that’s proof he still knows you.

“Where the hell is all of your things? What is going on?” he answers the call. “Where are you?”

“Um, work where you’re not. Your eight am is here. Are you on your way or should I reschedule?”

“What? What are you talking about? Did you pack up all your things and move out in the middle of the night?”

“Jensen, what are you talking about? Are you coming to work or not?”

He thinks it’s better to have a conversation with you face-to-face, so he decides not to freak out right now.

“Yeah, I’m on my way. Send me the address.”

He hangs up the phone and you look at the phone with a weird expression. Maybe he had too much to drink last night. Still, you do as you’re told and send him the address to the place he comes to every single day without fail.

“Mr. Ackles is running a bit late. I apologize for the inconvenience, but if you have a seat, he’ll be in shortly,” you say to his client.

“Sure. Thanks.”

You open up the chat window you’re using to talk to your friend and briefly read through the messages again to remind yourself of what you’re talking about. Right. Jensen.

You: Guess who is late? For a man who has been punctual for as long as I’ve known him, he sure had a lot to drink last night. He asked me for the address.

Kristy: At least you get a break from him, right?

You: I’m so sick and tired of this shit, K. If he’s not late, it’s the way I schedule his clients. If it’s not that, it’s the way the food is cold when I bring it to him. I can’t do any good in this man’s eyes.

Kristy: You know, I read about this in a book once where the secretary falls in love with her boss.

You: If I like him, shoot me.

The front doors open and Jensen comes strolling in looking disheveled and concerned. He slaps his hand on the counter and you back up slightly from how intense he’s being.

“What the hell is going on? All of your things are gone. It’s like we’re not even married anymore.”

Okay, you were not expecting that. You were expecting him to blame you for scheduling a client at eight in the morning even though he told you to, but you weren't expecting him to blurt out that you’re married. You put up a lot from him, but this is where you draw the line.

“Sir, I put up a lot from you, but this is inappropriate,” you sutter.

“What?”

“Your eight am is here waiting for you.”

“To do what? What is this place?”

“How much did you have to drink last night?” you whisper. All he does is give you a confused look. “Look, Mr. Ashby is here for his first appointment for therapy. He injured his leg while playing football. You’re his physical therapist. I know you like to drink but come on.”

Jensen looks back at the man and shakes his head.

“Reschedule it.”

“Excuse me?”

“Just do it, okay?”

Jensen leaves and heads to his office, and you huff out in anger and annoyance. You’d quit on the spot if the benefits weren't so great. You make really good money and your rent is low. You’re not going anywhere no matter how big of a headache Jensen is.

Jensen shuts the door to his office and sinks into his desk chair. There is one person who might make sense of this, so he calls his best friend of almost his entire life.

“What’s up?” Jared asks when he answers the phone.

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on but just humor me for a sec, okay? I need the 411 on my life.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. You know Y/N?”

“Your secretary?”

It pains him to hear that you’re just his secretary but he pushes past that.

“I swear I’m telling the truth but last night, we were married. We had a life together. I woke up this morning and everything changed.” Jared laughs much to Jensen’s annoyance. “What?”

“You? Married? That’s a good one.”

“What does that mean?”

“You’re not the settling down type which is fine, but you haven’t had a steady girlfriend since your prom date in high school.”

“What are you talking about?” Jensen asks, flabbergasted.

“You bring home a new girl every week.”

“What about Y/N?”

“Dude, you hate her. You don’t care about her. You never did.”

Jensen can’t believe what he’s hearing. You? How can he hate you? He fell in love with you the second he laid eyes on you.

“I gotta go.”

He ends the call immediately and just sits back as he tries to process this. After what feels like hours, he does a bit of research on himself to see the type of person he is. He doesn't know much about sports medicine or how to treat injuries, but with extensive research, he feels like he can fake it for today.

He goes through three clients before lunch, and he’s grateful for the break before two more clients. He leaves his office and approaches your desk with a shy smile. You’re putting things in your purse since you’re about to head out for a quick lunch.

“What are you doing for lunch?”

Your shoulders sag knowing what he’s asking you. “Nothing anymore. Do you want the usual?”

“What?”

“Don’t you want me to go all the way across town and get your lunch for you?”

“No, why would I want that?”

You frown. “Because you always want me to.”

“Not today. Do you have lunch plans?”

“I was just about to go get lunch and bring it back. I don’t normally go anywhere just in case you need me.”

Jensen pushes back the feeling of resentment. “Lunch is on me. Have some with me.”

You stand up angrily and glare at him much to his surprise.

“I don’t know what sick game you’re playing but leave me out of it. I just want to come here, do my job, and go home. Okay?”

“Yeah, okay,” he says in a soft voice.

“Now, I’m going out to lunch.”

“Okay.”

Jensen watches you storm off with a sigh. He knows he fucked up but he has to try and fix this. If this is his new life, he has to make it better.

A week goes by, and it’s been the most troubling week of his life. This is worse than when he wasn’t given the script until the last minute, and that entire week was full of fuck ups. He hates that you’re not by his side but he’s trying to get used to you being at a distance. He’s been nothing but nice to you but you’re not used to such a sudden change from the man who mistreats you.

Jensen came to work and barely said two words to you, as per usual, so you’re chatting with Kristy over messenger.

You: I don’t know if Jensen was hit in the head but he’s being nice to me. It’s weird.

Kristy: See? It’s the romantic office story I’ve been telling you about. Girl, he’s hot.

You: That doesn’t make up for the fact that he’s an asshole.

Jensen walks out of his office and approaches your desk, so you minimize the chat so he doesn’t see the messages. He reaches for his wallet and pulls out a shiny black Amex card.

“Lunch is on me today.” He sets the card on the desk. “Oh, and before I forget, I’m forced to go to some dinner with people I don’t even like. You’re coming with me.”

“What?”

“Yeah. Get whatever you want, also on me. I’ll pick you up at eight tonight.”

Jensen is gone before you can say anything. You pick up his card and reopen the chat window.

You: He just gave me his credit card and invited me to a dinner tonight. He told me to buy something new to wear.

Kristy: Girl take advantage! Maybe he’s changed.

You: I’ll believe it when I see it.

You’re not a gold digger but you are looking forward to dressing in something nice for a change. You normally don’t go out unless it’s with Kristy, but she lives in another state. You don’t spend much of Jensen’s money, mostly because you’re afraid he’s going to make you pay it back. Still, you spend the rest of the day buying new things and getting prepared for dinner.

The dress is simple and black with a top that accentuates your upper chest. It doesn't show a lot of cleavage but it does show off your shoulders and collarbone. Your hair is down but in soft waves, and you keep your makeup light. Your shoes are open-toed heeled sandals that make your calves look amazing.

The doorbell rings making Jensen right on time. You walk to the front door and open it, and you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. In his hands are flowers, your favorite kind.

“Wow, you look beautiful.” You hate to admit it, but you’re shocked at this. “Here, these are for you.”

“Wow, thank you,” you say and take the flowers. You put the flowers in your kitchen and remove his credit card from your purse. “This is yours. Thank you for the new clothes.”

“It’s the least I can do.”

Jensen escorts you to his car and opens the passenger door for you, and you slide into the car with ease. Jensen gets behind the wheel and starts driving to the restaurant.

“Why are you being so nice to me? You’re never this nice to me.”

“I finally appreciate the person you are.”

“Really?” He nods. “In all the time I’ve worked for you, you never once complimented me.”

This makes Jensen’s heart hurt. He briefly looks at you before returning to the road. “I’ve always found you beautiful.” Okay, now you’re shocked. “I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I’ll do better.”

You smile but don’t say anything else. Jensen makes it to the restaurant and hands the keys to the valet. He puts his hand on your lower back and escorts you inside the place.

“Jensen!” You look to the right to see a man coming your way. “I knew that was you. What you did for my daughter… She’s never walked better thanks to you.”

“Thanks. I’d love to chat, but I’m here with someone. Maybe next time, okay?”

Jensen leads you away from the man and over to the large table with a bunch of his associates that he has no business being with. The only person here that matters is you. Jensen pulls out your chair, and you sit down with a blush creeping up your neck.

“So, tell me about you.”

“What?”

“What are your likes? Hobbies? I want to know everything about you.”

You’re about to answer when someone across the table calls for Jensen.

“Hey, Jensen, tell Robert about that time you helped Peyton Manning.”

“Not right now. I’m talking to Y/N. Maybe later.”

All throughout the night, Jensen has made you a priority. You didn’t think it was possible, but maybe he has changed. You don't know it yet, but you’re falling for this man instead of the one you thought you knew.

After dinner, Jensen drives you home without any funny business. He walks you to your front door, and you turn to him with a genuine smile.

“Thank you for tonight. I actually enjoyed myself, believe it or not.”

Jensen leans in closer, and you freeze thinking he is going to kiss you. He bypasses your lips and kisses your cheek gently.

“I’d love to take you out on a real date next time, if you’ll let me.”

Your skin tingles from where his lips touched your cheek, and you resist the urge to touch it.

“That can be arranged,” you smile.

“Good. Have a good night, Y/N.”

“Have a good night, Jensen.”

He goes to bed that night with a smile because it’s the first time since switching into this new life that he’s finally okay with it. The sun isn’t even up when Jensen wakes up in the morning, mostly because of the black out curtains that you insisted on putting up when you moved in with him.

Wait.

Jensen shoots up in bed and looks next to him to see you sleeping there with soft snores coming out. Right there on the nightstand is the seashell he found for you. Inside are your rings. The walls are decorated with your trinkets he loves, and he can see the cluttered mess in the bathroom.

He’s back.

Did he dream it all? Was it real? Whatever it was, opened his eyes. Jensen is about to lay back down when he remembered the fight you two had before going to bed. He finally knows what he needs to do. He gets out of bed carefully so as to not wake you, and he walks to the kitchen where his laptop is. He opens iMessage that’s connected to his phone and makes a new message to his agent that scored him the role for The Boys.

Jensen: After some thought, I can’t take the role. I need to focus on my family before I take on new work. Thank you for thinking of me. If the role is still available down the line, I’d be more than happy to take it then.

The next thing he does is go online and browse through the two saved websites he bookmarked a few weeks ago. He wanted to surprise you with a vacation for your one year anniversary, but that’s also when his agent told him about The Boys. You’ve been wanting to go to Hawaii, and he books the perfect package that he knows you’ll love.

When he’s done, he walks back to the bedroom and carefully climbs into bed. He leans over you and presses kisses to your exposed shoulder. You moan tiredly and shift before opening your eyes.

“What time is it?”

“Just after six.”

“What are you doing up this early?”

“Listen, I’m sorry about last night. I was a jerk. You deserve better.”

You sit up and turn the lamp on so that it emits a soft glow in the room.

“I was a jerk, too.”

“I turned down The Boys role.”

“Why?” you gasp.

Jensen leans in and kisses you. “You are my wife. There’ll be other roles. Not another you. I also booked a two-week vacation in Hawaii. We leave tomorrow.”

“What?” You grin widely. “Really?”

“Yes. I love you. I am in love with you. You’re the most important thing in my life.”

You jump into his arms and he falls back with a laugh at your eagerness.

“I love you,” you grin and kiss him.

x

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[marginofthought]

Hey, @redcl8ver 👋 you asked for some of my bottom!sam fic recommendations and it's much easier to reply/link in a seperate post so here you go.

These are in no particular order and just a few of the ones I love.

Plotty:

i don’t smoke by brotherfucking (lovedhands): After John's death, Dean blames himself, puts up walls, and barricades himself from love. Sam tears it all down.

Well Jung by alwaysthrowsscissors: In an act of desperation, they go to couple’s therapy to try to work things out. It may bring them closer than they bargained for.

What went wrong yesterday by SinnamonSpider: Sam struggles to come to terms with the six months he spent alone after Dean’s death - and the fact that it never happened at all. And on top of it all, he now has to deal with the feelings for his brother that have been dragged to the surface.

Memories, sadly orphaned: Sam gets hit by a curse, one that releases the memories repressed over the years. Watching his little brother stuck in a coma, Dean has to to make a big decision. To save his baby brother, and risk losing him forever, or to let him die

(for you and me) i got no alibi by remy (iamremy): There are people hitting on Sam wherever he goes, and Dean is doing weird things like holding doors open for him and touching him way more than is necessary, and it's all driving Sam up the wall. Meanwhile, Dean is at his wits' end trying to figure out how he can make Sam realize that he is, in fact, trying to get into his pants.

Only Natural (Be My Hands), sadly orphaned: Dean leaves Sam alone for all of twenty minutes, and the idiot manages to break both of his wrists. It's up to Dean to take care of him. 

Mainly smut:

Abstinence Isn't For Everyone by littlefirefly31: Back when Dean and Sam joined the abstinence group and Dean is talking about how good sex feels and Sam starts to get turned on.

Honeymoon, sadly orphaned: Dean's always wanted a wife. Sam fits the bill perfectly.

Complete by NovaNara: Even safe and sound in the Bunker, when Dean hears something, he gotta check on Sam. Just in case. Doesn't he?

Roles by spn_wincest_etc (babybrotherdean): “I think the roast can wait a little longer, though, don’t you think?”

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Chances

Sam and Dean & nephilim!reader, Cas & nephilim!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: Gabriel messes around and ends up creating a nephilim, and Cas is tasked with keeping the kid safe.

A/N: guys I finally finished a request! Hopefully the next one won’t take me so long, you guys have been so patient as I start up college again.

“I need you to do something for me.”

Gabriel’s appearance at the bunker a month after Angel radio went nuts over a nephilim’s creation was unexpected and unwanted, to say the least.

“From us?” Dean narrowed his eyes at the archangel. “Don’t tell me you’re the one who—“

“Not you, Winchesters. I’m talking to Castiel.”

Castiel looked up in surprise at this declaration.

“My help? And why would I—“

“The nephilim is mine. And she’s growing fast.”

“She?” Sam asked. Gabe offered him a half glance.

“Yes, she. I can feel it. And she’s going to be born any day now.”

“What does that have to do with me?” Castiel demanded.

“I can’t keep her safe,” Gabriel admitted after a moment’s hesitation, his features tightened. “If I get anywhere near her, there’s a line of enemies that will follow. I need her somewhere safe, and I can’t take her there.” Gabriel swallowed, glancing at the brothers before looking back at Castiel. “This is the safest place I could think of.” Before Dean could interrupt, Gabriel raised his voice and continued. “The warding will keep out most enemies, and it’s nearly undetectable to angels.”

“We can’t just house a nephilim!” Dean exclaimed. “Not happening. No way.”

“I have no other options, no one else to go to,” Gabriel pleaded. “She’s just a baby—“

“A baby with power,” Sam added. “And we don’t know how much power.”

“She’s innocent,” Gabriel added. “She’s just a baby, and she doesn’t deserve to get hunted down like this. There’s nowhere else she can go—it’s either the bunker, or she’s dead.”

This time, Gabriel’s argument was met with silence. Castiel was the first to break it.

“You want me to retrieve her, and bring her here.”

“It’s her only chance.” None of the boys had ever seen Gabriel look so humble—so vulnerable.

“I’ll do it.”

“Cas—“

“No, Dean,” Cas interrupted him. “I have to do this.”

“Let us come with you,” Sam spoke up.

“Sam!” Dean turned to his brother, thunderstruck.

“No,” Cas said. “I should go alone, it’s safer.”

“You shouldn’t be going at all!” Dean insisted. “We don’t know what—“

“This being deserves a chance,” Cas interrupted. “And I’m going to give it to her.”

…

Gabriel left quickly to go into hiding, and Cas left soon after. The address Gabriel gave him was only a few hours away, but when Cas got there he arrived to a surprise.

The mother—Cas had no idea who she was—was already dead. Cas was just beginning to panic when he heard crying, and he rounded the bed to see you—a little toddler, crying on the floor at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, hey it’s alright,” Cas soothed as he wrapped a nearby blanket around your shivering, unclothed body. “Hey, you’re safe now.” He had no idea how or why you were already a toddler, but he figured it didn’t matter—as long as he could get you safe.

You stopped crying as soon as you were in Cas’s arms, your big Y/E/C eyes blinking up at the angel.

“You’re going to be alright little one,” Cas said. “I promise.”

Considering the dead woman on the bed not three feet away, Cas felt that his promise was less than convincing, but you relaxed completely into him, your little arms wrapping around his neck and holding on tight.

Cas carried you out to his car—he wasn’t so sure about angel transportation with a newborn nephilim, so human transportation was his choice—while keeping his eyes peeled for any interference, of which there was, thankfully, none.

“I suppose I should get you some food and some clothing,” Castiel said, mostly to himself, although if you spoke up he’d be grateful. You didn’t, though; you just blinked up at him with those big eyes, and Cas felt more lost than ever.

He knew enough about humans—and you were at least half human—to know that babies only drank milk, and as they got older they gained an affinity for solid foods. But you were somewhere between a newborn and a toddler. Would milk be enough to sustain you? Would you even understand how to eat solid foods? It was all confusing for an angel who already felt out of his depth.

Castiel stopped at the first store he came across, and he carried you with him—you were still wrapped in that blanket he had grabbed from your mother’s house—as he started to grab anything he thought he’d need to take care of you, including a lot he probably didn’t need. As soon as he’d paid for everything, he carried you into the family restroom so he could get you into the clothes he’d picked up, as you still seemed too young to be capable of dressing yourself.

“Alright,” Castiel said after you were dressed, looking at you long and hard for a moment before sighing in near-defeat. “I don’t know why your father picked me for this mission, Sam or Dean would be much better at—“ a crash from somewhere outside the restroom had Castiel whipping around, prepared for a threat. But the door remain closed, and whatever had made noise was now silent.

Castiel turned back around only when he felt a tug on his arm. He looked down to see you—but he didn’t have to look as far down as he expected. Cas blinked in surprise, taking in the sight of you, now maybe six inches taller and a few years older, the clothes on you stretched and far too small.

“What…” Cas breathed, unsure what to even ask.

You just tugged at his hand again, gripping it firmly in your shaking hands.

“I’m scared.” It was the first words Cas had heard you speak, and they snapped him back into focus.

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. Now how did you get so big?”

You just blinked up at Cas, apparently unwilling to speak again.

“It’s ok,” Cas sighed. “It doesn’t matter, I just…let’s get you some bigger clothes and get you out of here.”

Cas led you out towards the clothing section, turning his back on you for just a second to find the right size. But once he turned around again, you were gone.

“Hey!” Cas realized just then that he didn’t know your name. He whirled around frantically, trying to catch sight of you between the racks of clothing. He rushed down aisle after aisle, freezing when he got to the third one and saw a girl that looked suspiciously like you, but was now three inches taller, being cornered by a large man whose eyes flashed black.

Cas didn’t speak, he just took four large strides, and as soon as the demon turned to look at him, he stretched out his hand and placed it against the demon’s forehead. There was a flash of light behind the demon’s eyes, and he dropped to the floor after only a second. You looked from the dead demon to Castiel in awe.

“Why do you keep getting bigger?” Castiel sighed, bending down slightly to look you in the eye.

“I wasn’t big enough to stop him.” Your voice came out in a quiet whimper—you were shaking in fear. “It was scary, so I wanted to get bigger, and…and then I just did.” Your big eyes were gonna be the death of Cas, he just knew it; especially when they were filled with tears like now. “Did I do something wrong?”

“Hey, no, it’s ok, it’s just…not many people can do that. Most people have to say the size they are until they grow.” You still looked concerned, so Cas waved it off. “It doesn’t matter, you didn’t do anything wrong. Now let’s get you into some bigger clothes and get you safe.”

At this point, you looked like a young teenager, so Castiel went to a different clothes section to find you something. You held his hand the whole way, which Cas was grateful for—he didn’t want to lose you again.

Cas picked up a size for you and sent you off to put it on, making sure he could see you entering and leaving the bathroom. While you were gone, he grabbed about three more sizes in case you spontaneously grew again.

“I’m ready,” you said as you returned to Castiel.

“Ok…” Cas stared at you for a moment. “Do…do you know your name?”

“My name…” you pondered the question for a long moment. “Yes, I…Y/N. I remember my mother calling me that…before I was born. She named me Y/N.”

Cas smiled.

“Ok then. Y/N it is.”

…

Once you were ready, Cas led you out to his car and the two of you were finally on your way again. The car went along in silence for several miles, but Cas could tell you were contemplating something, and after a while you finally got up the courage to speak.

“Are you my father?”

The question shouldn’t have surprised Cas, but he froze up the moment it left your mouth.

“I…no, I’m not,” he said finally. “Your father’s name is Gabriel. He wanted to be here, really, but it was too dangerous. He…let’s just say he has a lot of enemies.”

“Is that why my mother is dead?” Your voice was more subdued this time, and the question again froze Castiel.

“No, little one,” Cas began hesitantly. How could he tell you that your mother died giving birth to you? “Your mother, she…she chose to save you, rather than herself.”

“Save me?” You prodded. “Is it because I…I can do things, like grow?”

“Kind of.” Castiel ran a hand over his face, willing the car ride to end. “Your father is an archangel, and that makes you a nephilim. But your mother, she was just a human. She…she couldn’t bring you into this world and survive, her body wasn’t strong enough.”

Your silence was starting to scare Cas more than your questions.

“So…so I killed my mom?” It was with tears in your eyes that you finally spoke again.

“No,” Castiel insisted. “No, you did not choose any of this, this isn’t your fault. Your mother and father made their choices, you’re just the result of them. But your mother’s death is not on you.”

“It still feels like it is,” you mumbled. “How…how do I miss someone I’ve never met?” You blinked up at Cas, and he swore he’d never felt more out of his depth.

“Look, I…I know that you don’t have your parents here right now, but I’m going to look after you. I’m going to take you to a safe place, and I promise that you’re going to be alright.”

“Why are you helping me?” You asked. Cas barely had to think about the answer to this.

“Because I believe that you deserve a chance, the same as anyone else. You’ve got powers, little one. Powers that might scare some people. But I think that you’re good, and I’m not scared of you just because of your strength.”

“What if I’m not good?” Your gaze faltered, falling away from Cas’s. “What if you should be scared of me?”

“Good isn’t something that you’re born as,” Cas said. “It’s something you choose. You can choose good, if you want to.”

“I do,” you insisted. “I just…I don’t think I know how.”

A hint of a smile crossed Cas’s lips.

“Well I can try to teach you. And my friends, they will too.”

…

The rest of the ride to the bunker passed uneventfully, but Cas began to get nervous the closer he got to the bunker. He was all but forcing this nephilim onto Sam and Dean, so how would they react when he arrived? Would they be scared of you, or force Cas to leave? Would they not want to put themselves in danger to help some non-human?

It didn’t seem like the Sam and Dean that Cas knew, but then again they’d never been presented with a nephilim before.

“Your friends.” Your words startled Cas out of his thoughts. “Are they…like you?”

“You mean angels?” Cas had explained who he was to you. “No, no they’re human. But they like to help people. I believe they’ll help you.” Cas had to believe it—he had to.

…

“You’re back.” Dean’s greeting seemed less then happy as he stared Cas down. “Where’s the—“

“Hello.”

Dean‘s gaze whipped around from Cas to you as you stepped up beside Cas.

“What the—I thought she was just born.” Dean looked back at Cas, questions swimming behind his eyes.

“She was, she uh…she grew up fast,” Cas offered lamely.

“Why?” Sam spoke up for the first time, eying you nervously, but he didn’t look as threatening as Dean.

“I got scared,” you said. “So I had to grow up fast.”

“What’s your name?” Sam asked before Dean could say anything else.

“I’m Y/N.” Sam noticed the way you were almost hiding behind Cas. He couldn’t tell if you were scared of him, or just shy, but either way he tried to make himself look as non threatening as possible.

“Well, I’m Sam and this is my brother, Dean. C’mon down here and we can show you where to sleep.” Sam pointedly ignored Dean’s glare. “Do you need anything to eat?”

“No, I’m not hungry,” you decided after a moment of pondering.

“Good, now you can explain to us what kind of powers you have and how you plan to use them,” Dean cut in, ignoring the glares from Sam and Cas.

“I…” the question froze you, and Cas jumped in.

“Dean, it’s been a long day. Just let her get some sleep.”

“Oh, sure, and while she’s sleeping, every demon and angel on earth is pulling out all the stops to get to her! I mean she could be working with any of them!”

“Why would she work with them?” Sam demanded. “They want her dead.”

“Yeah, or they want to use her powers! She could’ve cut a deal with them.”

“Dean, she’s just a kid,” Cas interjected.

“Yeah, a kid who was a baby a couple hours ago. She’s not normal, she’s a freak! Who knows what else she’ll do?”

“Dean, calm down—“ Sam’s attempt at keeping the peace just made Dean angrier.

“Calm down?! We have a nephilim in our house, and we don’t know what it can do!”

“She’s not an i-“ Cas’s interruption went completely unnoticed by Dean.

“And we don’t know what side it’s on! Gabriel was always switching sides, what makes you think this kid is gonna be any different?”

“Dean, she doesn’t even know Gabriel,” Cas argued.

“But he’s still the father. She could still—“

“Stop it!” Your outburst froze all three men, and it took you a prolonged minute to realize why; they couldn’t move. By just your word, you’d rendered them incapable of doing anything but stare at you—Sam and Cas in amazement, Dean in anger. “I didn’t…” your gaze focused on Cas, almost pleading with him to help you. “I-I didn’t mean to. I didn’t—I don’t know how to stop it.” You stared down at your hands, and then back up. “I didn’t mean it! Let them go!”

The three men moved simultaneously as their joints relaxed and their legs moved. Dean took a half step back from you, Sam stayed where he was, and Cas came up to stand in front of you.

“It’s ok,” he whispered as you started to shake. “I know you didn’t mean to, it’s ok.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered. “I don’t think I can control this.”

Cas knelt down, his blue eyes locking onto yours.

“I know you can. I’m going to help you.”

“Me too.” You hadn’t noticed Sam approaching you until his hand was on your shoulder. “I know a little bit about self control.”

Dean lingered in the corner, wariness etched onto his features, but the anger was somewhat dissipated.

“Come with me,” Sam continued—he was still ignoring Dean’s glares. “I’ll get you settled in.”

You let Sam lead you down a hallway. You could hear Dean start to yell at Castiel the moment you left the room, and Cas was yelling right back.

“Uh, this room is empty,” Sam said, stopping in front of a door. “So you can use it.”

“Ok,” you mumbled, standing in front of the door and rocking back and forth on your heels. “I’m sorry for being so much trouble,” you added, your head ducked low.

“Your dad has helped us out before,” Sam said. “So I’m glad you’re here—I want to help you.”

“Dean said my dad did bad stuff, too,” you said.

“Yeah, he…is a complicated man.” Sam shook his head, a wry smile on his face. “Well, anyway…” Sam opened up the door to your room, stepping back so you could go inside. You took a hesitant step inside before turning around and looking up at Sam, as if worried he was going to leave.

“What should I do if the demons or angels come inside?” You asked, your voice tight and high pitched.

“Hey.” Sam put a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to worry about that, trust me. They don’t know where this place is, and it’s warded. They can’t get to you, we won’t let them.”

Your features visibly relaxed.

“Ok.” You found yourself wrapping your arms around the kind man before you’d really made the decision to do it. “Thank you.”

He was stiff for a moment, but quickly he reciprocate the hug.

“You’re gonna be ok,” he promised.

…

The next week passed about as Cas had expected, although even he was surprised at how eager Sam was to help you. Sam hung around the bunker the entire week, getting you used to life on earth and everything you didn’t know.

Dean however, remained fairly hostile. But things weren’t as bad as they’d been the first day, and Cas was even starting to notice Dean warm up to you in little ways; making a little extra food at breakfast, letting you join him in the Dean cave when he was watching something—things like that.

You might have gotten too comfortable around Dean based on his attitude, because when Dean announced to the general area that he had found a hunt you spoke up—

“I’ll help!”

The trio of men looked over at you with varying degrees of surprise.

“Are you sure?” Cas asked.

“No!” Dean insisted. “You’re staying here, I’m not babysitting some kid on the hunt.”

“I don’t want you to babysit me,” you argued. “I want to help.”

“Sam, help me out here,” Dean demanded. When Sam seemed reluctant, Dean groaned, “oh come on!”

“Well, maybe she can help!” Sam offered. “Give her a chance.”

Dean glanced from Sam to Cas, hoping one of them would break. When they didn’t, he huffed in annoyance, but his shoulders slumped.

“Fine.”

…

The long car ride was going surprisingly well. Dean’s music was your first introduction to the art, and your enthusiastic response instantly gained you brownie points with Dean.

Each and every song that came on elicited the same response from you—

“Is this the best one?”

And every time the brothers would respond at the same time, Dean with a “yes!” And Sam with a “no!” All in all, Cas couldn’t have asked for a better bonding experience.

“Alright,” Dean said after a while, turning the music down. “We’ll be there soon, so we need to talk this out. From all appearances, it’s a vampire—a nest, actually. Now as soon as we locate it, I want Sam and Cas to be ready with the dead man’s blood, and…” Dean seemed to be rethinking his plan for a moment, before he made up his mind… “and I want the kid with me.” Dean’s eyes met yours in the rearview mirror, and his voice was suddenly more firm. “You need to be careful, and you need to not be in the way. Do you understand me?”

You were trying to hide your excited smile as you replied.

“Yes sir.”

…

You didn’t help. Or stay out of the way. In fact, barring lost limbs or lives, the hunt couldn’t have gone much worse, and you knew it was your fault.

Your first sight of a vampire scared you so much, that some of your nephilim energy came from you without you planning on it, blasting several vamps—and unfortunately Dean—away from you. Unfortunately, that blast of power had you thinking that maybe you could take on the vamps magically. This tactic just meant that you got in Dean’s way, and your magic didn’t respond the way you wanted it to—it didn’t respond at all.

Because of this, nearly half the vampires got away, and the ones that didn’t went straight for the easy target; you.

You were on the floor with a vampire drinking from your neck before Dean was even able to start swinging. He took out the two vampires that went for him before he able to get to you. He pried the vampire away from your neck before taking care of it with a single swing.

“Are you crazy?!” You were gasping for breath, blood mingling with sweat and tears as you tried to calm down while Dean yelled at you. “I told you to be careful! I told you not to get in the way! You could’ve—“ Dean cut himself off with a huff, turning to look for any remaining vampires. “I’ve gotta go find the nest before they get to Cas and Sam. You stay here.” The look Dean gave you before he left ensured your complete obedience to his order.

You slumped down onto the floor, drained and desperate to calm down. How could you have screwed up so badly, and right when Dean was finally starting to trust you?

You were finally able to breathe normally again by the time Dean returned with Sam and Cas in tow.

“A few of them got away,” Dean grumbled. “But they’re long gone now, and without their nest I don’t think they’re coming back.

“Dean, I didn’t—“ you barely got a couple of words out before Dean cut you off.

“Don’t! No, I don’t want to hear it. You could’ve gotten killed, you could’ve gotten one of us killed!”

“Dean,” Sam interrupted. “Dean, we should go. She’s hurt, and so is Cas—he’s too weak to heal, we gotta regroup.”

Dean led the dejected group to the Impala, but as soon as the car was on the road the yelling started up again. Sam and Cas were too tired to stop Dean, so you curled up in your corner of the Impala and listened to Dean’s criticisms of all you had done wrong. Within minutes, the words seemed to blend into each other and all you could hear was the anger in his tone and the harsh beating of your heart. You could feel the adrenaline still pumping in your veins, but it only seemed to highlight your fear and the pain in your neck and the tears that were building behind your eyes. The toxic combination seemed to build up until it was all you could feel, and it felt like anything more would make you snap—

“I mean how could you be so stupid?!”

That was it.

“Stop it!” Dean looked taken aback at your outburst. “I know that I screwed it all up, and I’m sorry! I’m sorry that Cas got hurt, and I’m sorry that the vampires got away. But I can’t fix that now, and I’m freaking out and I’m bleeding and I don’t want to listen to you yell anymore! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry! I’ll say it as much as you want to hear it, just stop yelling at me!”

It was a good thing that the Impala was nearing the bunker, otherwise the four of you would’ve suffocated on the silence in the car.

“Come with me,” Dean told you as you all stepped out of the car. Cas started forwards, but Dean waved him off. “Go fix that—“ he gestured at the wound on Cas’s side—it wasn’t deep, but it was long. “I’ve got her.”

Neither Cas nor Sam argued; they just went off to their own rooms to get cleaned off. You trailed behind Dean as if you were marching to your death sentence. He noticed this about halfway down the hallway.

“I’m not going to yell at you again,” he insisted. “So relax.”

The tension in your shoulders eased, but you still didn’t speak as Dean led you to his room and instructed you to sit on his bed while he disappeared into the bathroom. He returned a moment later with a first aid kit in hand, the anger on his face all but gone.

“Let me see it.”

You pulled your hair to the side so Dean could get at the bite marks on your neck. You weren’t sure why you couldn’t heal yourself the way Cas sometimes could—maybe you were just too scared to figure out your powers now—but Dean didn’t question it; he just got to fixing the problem.

“This is gonna sting,” he warned you as he soaked a cotton ball with alcohol before pressing it to your neck. You forced yourself not to hiss in pain, but you couldn’t hold back the way your face twitched and your shoulder flinched. Dean didn’t comment, though.

“I am sorry,” you mumbled as Dean quietly continued to clean your wound.

“I know,” he replied simply. “I don’t think I can trust you on hunts anymore, but I do get that you’re sorry. And maybe I went a little too hard on you, ok? So how ‘bout we just forgive each other and move on. Maybe…maybe start over.”

“Ok,” you said, your lips twitching into a smile. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

Despite himself, Dean chuckled.

“Don’t be a dork,” he insisted. But after a moment’s pause he continued— “I’m Dean. It’s nice to meet you too.”

And the two of you lapsed into a comfortable silence as Dean finished patching up your neck. His concerned features each time you hissed in pain, and his gentle touch so as not to hurt you, had you thinking one thing;

This is one heck of a second chance.

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