#part of the meet the winchesters series

[little-diable]

Unspoken nicknames and lost loves – Dean Winchester (smut)

I crave Dean Winchester as if he's a drug. How insane. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated! Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: The reader walked out on Dean and his lifestyle years ago, and yet she has never managed to let go of her love for him. Perhaps a nest of vampires in her town is exactly what needed to happen to bring them back together. Honestly, just pwp.

Warnings: 18+, smut, piv, mentions some heartbreak and talks about leaving, fluff tho

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (3k words)

Darkness wrapped itself around (y/n), it crawled up her tired body like a snake slithering through Eden, knowing that chaos would unfold soon enough. The stone bench she was sitting on did little to shield her body from the cold night, leaving her trembling as she waited for his arrival. And yet she didn’t even know if he would show, if he had listened to the panicked voice message she had left hours ago.

Her eyes wandered over the rows of endless graves, trying to decipher the unfamiliar names to keep herself distracted. A part of her wondered why she was so sure that he’d show, after years of silence on her end – years of his calls she had ignored, of sober and drunk messages she had deleted. And yet a small part knew that he’d always come when she called, keeping the promise he had made years ago.

Dean Winchester had always been her enigma, the one she found herself clinging to for years, tied to him from her teenage years on, all until the day where she had packed her bag to leave the brothers and their lifestyle behind. A day that had flipped her life completely, luring her away from the places she had called her home for years on end, ripping it all out of her hands because her anxious overthinking mind had gotten the best of her.

And yet she didn’t regret running, at least not from the unstable lifestyle she had never managed to adjust to. But no matter how many years had passed since that day, she couldn’t shake her longing for the man she had once wanted to marry, the man she had hurt more than words could express, the man she expected to find her in moments of desperation.

“A cemetery, how fitting.” Dean Winchester’s raspy voice rang in her ears, forcing (y/n)’s glassy eyes towards his frame. He towered over her, letting his green eyes dance over her features while hers did the same, taking in every inch of the handsome face she’d never forget, no matter what may happen to her.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d come, but I thought this spot was far away enough for you to at least consider meeting me.” Dean sat down next to her on the bench, letting one arm rest behind her back. It wasn’t the first time she was seeing him again after leaving him, they had run into one another every now and then, and yet it was the first time they were all alone, without Sam or any of her friends near.

“You know I’ll always come whenever you need me, (y/n).” The use of her name cut deeper than she thought it would, instantly missing the nickname he had once used, a familiar sound she craved like a starving woman in need of food. She had to avert her gaze for a moment, no longer able to get lost in the eyes she’d always find, no matter how big a crowd may be, lured towards Dean Winchester like two magnets made to fit.

“So, vampires, huh?” She was glad for the change of topic, all too aware of the doubts that began to grow louder, leaving her to wonder if this had been a mistake.

“You know I don’t want anything to do with this, but I knew I had to call you. I’m sure you picked up on the series of missing people around here, the second I saw them killing that woman, I knew you could help.” Her mouth felt dry, struggling to speak about the things she had sworn she‘d keep away from. But no matter where she was, no matter what she was doing, it seemed as if there was no way out of this mess she had once lived through.

“I will call Sam, we will take care of this.“ Dean‘s hand found her knee, softly squeezing it before he dropped it once again, instantly making her miss the soft touch. (Y/n) couldn’t stop herself from smiling at him, allowing her a handful of seconds to properly look at the man her heart was still aching for.

“You can stay at mine for the few days you two will be around, if you want.“ The offer had rolled off her tongue before (y/n) could even have tried to stop it. For a moment, Dean kept quiet, not speaking up while she silently cursed herself for making this even harder for her. But before (y/n) could try to pull the offer back, Dean let go of a soft hum.

“That would be nice, thank you.” A soft smile was shot her way before he rose to his feet, letting his hands disappear in the pockets of his trousers. Both allowed one another to have one last look, giving the moment an almost melancholic touch before Dean parted his lips once again. “Sam will call you once we’re on the way. Be careful, (y/n).”

And all she could do was watch Dean Winchester leave her side once again, taking another piece of her heart with him.

……

“Thank you for letting us stay, (y/n). I’m sure this isn’t easy for you.” Sam had his hand placed on her shoulder, holding her close while Dean was taking a quick shower. She had missed having Sam around, the one she had kept in touch with over the past years, desperate for updates on the man she still longed for.

“I’m happy to see you, both of you.” She didn’t manage to speak another word, didn’t want to dwell on the feeling of regret and anxiety simmering inside of her. All she could do was turn from Sam, focusing on the bottles of beer she had bought, very well knowing that some things won’t ever change when it comes to the Winchester brothers.

“Shower’s free.” Dean’s raspy voice lured Sam from her side, forcing (y/n)’s eyes to Dean who leaned against the door frame with wet hair and clothes that hugged his frame a tad bit too well. With heat clinging to her, (y/n) tried to busy herself with preparing some snack, anything she could do to keep her eyes from wandering back to Dean.

“It’s a nice place you’ve got here.” He plopped down in one of the chairs, shooting her a grateful smile as she reached a beer out for him to take. (Y/n) was grateful that he hadn’t commented on the pictures she had hung up around her place, old memories of her and the two brothers, of shared friends and long lost loved ones. She was grateful that he didn’t tease her about any of them, well aware of the way she had struggled without them close, even though she had been the one who had decided to run.

“It’s enough for now.” His hum rumbled through him, echoing through the kitchen like a cry she struggled to keep bottled in. “So, no boyfriend or roommate you share this place with?”

“Oh come on, Dean.” (Y/n) scoffed at his words while shaking her head. She knew that he couldn’t be this oblivious, unaware of the heartache she had caused them both and still hadn’t managed to overcome. Even back then, when she had left him, (y/n) had known that no other man would ever come after him, after the one she had loved more than life itself, the brightness to her darkest days, the air she needed to breathe. She was choking without him, dying a slow death she was to blame for.

“What? Don’t tell me you haven’t been with anyone, it’s been years, (y/n).” Dean’s words cut deep, dripping with spite. She couldn’t stop her body from turning towards him, from staring at him with glassy eyes that were filled with unshed tears. She wasn’t stupid, was well aware that Dean had been with many women, spending nights or even weeks with them, at least until another hunt called him and Sam away. And yet she didn’t manage to swallow her jealousy, the biting sensation that left a bitter taste on her tongue.

“I haven’t, and I doubt I ever will.” With her back turned towards him, (y/n) kept her eyes focused on the kitchen island she was leaning against, palms pressed flat against the cold material. She had to blink away her tears, unable to stop a few from rolling down her warm cheeks. The sound of his chair screeching rang in her ears, followed by the sounds of his feet softly meeting the ground, telling her that Dean was moving closer.

“Look at me, (y/n).” His hands found her waist, turning her front back towards him. His green eyes were filled with pain, a sensation so strong, it forced a sob right out of (y/n). Wordlessly he wiped her falling tears away while a soft smile played on the lips she had last kissed years ago. “Talk to me, what’s going on in that pretty head of yours?”

“It’s so pathtic, god, fuck.” Her eyes fluttered close, she didn’t endure looking at him any longer, needing a few moments to deeply inhale some new air. Dean kept his hand placed on her cheek, holding onto her while silence wrapped itself around the two ex-lovers who clung to one another as if it was their final moment together.

“I know it’s my fault. I walked away, I couldn’t cope with this life. But I left my heart with you, I knew that I won’t ever get to love another person the same way I love you. And for a while I thought I could live with that, away from you and that unstable life. But now,” a shaky breath left her as her eyes flickered back to his. “Now I am no longer so sure about that.”

Dean pulled her into his chest, letting his chin rest on her head while another sob clawed through (y/n). With every passing moment, it felt as if Dean was tightening his grip on her, scared that she’d run before he found the strength to reply.

“You know, I was angry at you for leaving, probably for years. But the older I get, the more I understand it. It wasn’t fair of us to drag you into this, to force you to move around and live without any perspectives while we were both so young. You deserve better and I’ve accepted that. But I also always knew that you were it for me, no other person will ever manage to make me feel that love we shared.” His words felt like another punch to her gut, forcing her through these memories she had tried to drown with the love she had once felt – unsuccessfully.

“I don’t want to let go of you, Dean. I know I have to, but I don’t know how much longer I can live with this pain.” With his hand finding the back of her neck, he pulled her tear-stained face away from his broad chest. She was high on his scent, the comfortable scent she had craved to smell for years. His thumb rang along her lower lip, feeling the bite marks her teeth had left behind while trying to stop herself from speaking up.

He didn’t have to ask for permission as he dipped his head down to kiss her, to press his lips against hers like he had once done numerous times each day. Instantly, she felt hurled back in time, letting herself fall back into a familiar routine as her arms found their way around his neck and his tongue met hers.

Only as the sound of Sam nearing managed to reach them did they pull away from one another. Breathlessly, they looked at one another for a handful of seconds before she turned back towards the snacks and Dean moved towards the chair he had been sitting on.

“So, how’s life around here, (y/n)? Is it as quiet as you wanted it to be?”

……

“Dean?” She mumbled his name as she woke to the feeling of someone slinging their arms around her frame to pull her against a broad chest. (Y/n) could instantly tell that it was Dean, wrapping her in his comfortable embrace as she shuffled around, needing to look up at him.

“I can’t stop thinking about what you said to me earlier.” His confession filled her bedroom, weighing heavy on both their souls. Slowly, she moved her hand up his shirt, letting it rest on his chest while her fingers traced his exposed collar bones.

“I meant it, every part of it.” The heavy exhale that followed her words interrupted their silence, drawing their eyes back to one another. It felt like a deja-vu, happening just like hours ago where he had finally kissed her again after all these years. Their lips melted together, hearts and souls intertwined while he pulled (y/n) on top of him.

“Do you want this? I need you to be sure, sweetheart.” Her heart skipped a beat at the use of his old nickname for her, leaving her dazed while a soft “Yes” managed to leave her slightly swollen lips. Without letting go of her, Dean flipped them around, hovering over her while he got rid of his shirt. He took his time, teasing her for a few moments before he exposed his upper body to her wandering eyes.

Dean allowed her to trace his marks, to explore the skin she had once been all too familiar with, needing a few seconds to adjust once again. But he grew impatient all too quickly, letting his hands disappear beneath her shirt to pull it from her frame. Within seconds his mouth found her chest, kissing their way to her naked breasts.

(Y/n)’s quiet moans were like fuel to the fire, begging him to suck on her hardening nubs while she bucked her hips, feeling his hardening cock press against her covered heat. Nothing could happen now to pull them away from one another, to stop them from what was about to unfold, they were too far gone, set on moulding a perfect mess they never wanted to get rid of again.

“It’s been too long, I need you, need to feel you inside of me, Dean.” She was proud of herself for even finding her words while he kept rubbing himself against her, leaving her bundle of nerves pulsing. His eyes flickered up to hers, filled with a teasing anticipation that shook right through her like lightning striking her body. All while she laid still, with her hands resting next to her as if she was scared to touch him, to mess something up.

“You’re still such a needy girl for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” With her breath hitched in her chest it felt as if she was drowning, drowning in everything Dean Winchester emanated. He rose back to a sitting position, chasing the distance between them to pull her panties down her legs before he stepped out of his boxers. (Y/n)’s greedy eyes wandered up and down his naked body, thanking whoever was listening for giving her a second chance.

“I want you bare, let me feel you.” She trusted him, knew that Dean would never risk harming her in any way, and yet she didn’t dare look at him while speaking the words that drew a gritty moan from Dean. He found his way back to her, hovering over (y/n) while he dipped his head down to kiss her. The kiss seemed to wake her from her state, letting her hands find their way up his neck to his hair, tugging on the soft roots to wordlessly beg him for more.

Dean brushed the tip of his cock through her slit, spreading her arousal on her skin before he finally sank into her. A loud moan left the both of them in unison, a sound he tried to swallow with another kiss pressed to her parted lips. He gave them a few seconds before he started to fuck her with slow thrusts, enjoying every second of their all too intimate reunion.

It felt like a dream, a surreal experience she was only dreaming about but would never experience in real life. Having Dean oh so close, being buried beneath him while he fucked her with calculated thrusts that made black dots appear in her vision – a dreamy state she never wanted to escape from.

“Look at me, pretty girl. Let me see how good I’m making you feel.” Dean’s teasing words dripped with confidence, leaving her buzzing in heat as her eyes snapped towards his. They held eye contact while his thrusts grew faster, knowing that they couldn’t drag this out even if they wanted to. Too many years had passed, years they had been forced to spend without the other near, years they were now trying to make up for.

“I love you, Dean.” She wouldn’t have managed to stop the words from leaving her even if she had tried to. Words that left him chuckling in delight before he repeated them, making her heart flutter in her chest. A blissful state that only grew more prominent as she sneaked her hand between her bodies to rub her pulsing bundle.

“I want you to cum with me, don’t let go yet, sweetheart.” (Y/n) could only let go of a choked sound while she clawed her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to stop herself from letting go. They kept looking at one another until Dean finally nodded his head, allowing her to let go as his ferocious thrusts pushed them over the edge.

Both moaned in unison as they came together, breathless sounds they couldn’t care about. The blinding sensation felt as if they were burning alive, robbing them of their breath while they were certain that it had never felt this good before.

“I’m sorry for leaving, Dean.” (Y/n) mumbled the words into the darkness of her room. She clung to him as he slowly pulled out of her, only to plop down on the mattress right next to (y/n).

“I’m sorry for just letting you go. I will never be this blind again, sweetheart.”

[ninii-winchester]

Main Masterlist

Angst- 🌧️

Fluff- 🫶🏻

Implied smut- 🥵

Smut- 💦

Dean Winchester :

ONE/TWO SHOTS AND DRABBLES

The heart wants what it wants : Dean falls for a simple girl, would he lose her over his life as a hunter. 🌧️🫶🏻

Deepest Desire : What happens when Dean reveals his deepest desire and it’s not what Y/n expected. 🌧️

Chosen Affection : Part 2 to Deepest desire. Dean tells Y/n the truth. 🌧️🫶🏻🥵

One of your girls : Y/n attempts to seduce Dean in a bar. 🥵

Only girl : Part 2 to One of your girls 💦🫶🏻

R and R : Just some Rest and Relaxation. 🥵

Shut up, Winchester : Dean does the one eight reverse thing on Baby. 🫶🏻🥵

I don’t wanna live forever : Dean’s a demon and doesn’t want to go back, will y/n be able to convince him? 🌧️

Dusk till Dawn : Part 2 to I don’t wanna live forever, what happens when Sam brings Dean back. 🌧️🫶🏻🥵

But Daddy, I love him : Dean fell in love with a demon, Crowley’s daughter specifically. 🫶🏻

Baby : Who is Dean’s baby? 🫶🏻

Tender Care : Y/n takes care of Dean when he’s sick.🫶🏻

Lie to me : Y/n asks Dean do her a favour and lie to her. 🌧️

Fleeting love : Dean’s high school love story.🫶🏻🌧️

Timeless love : Part 2 to fleeting love, Dean and Y/n meet again. 🌧️🫶🏻

The Witch and the Hunter : Dean doesn’t like cats or witches, ironically he falls for both. 🫶🏻

Trust in Ashes : Dean betrays Y/n’s trust. 🌧️

MINI SERIES

Revived: A witch hunt goes wrong and Dean dies. 🌧️🫶🏻

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Completed)

You’d never know : Dean bears the consequences of saying something he shouldn’t have said. 🌧️🫶🏻

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Completed)

Crossed Allegiances : What happens when Y/n has to choose her life over love. 🌧️🫶🏻💦

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Completed)

SERIES

Unveiled Sorrows : Dean and Y/n’s complicated journey through the Apocalypse. 🌧️🫶🏻🥵

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Epilogue (Completed)

Behind Closed Doors : Boss Dean AU. 🌧️🫶🏻

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Epilogue

Jensen Ackles:

ONE/ TWO SHOTS AND DRABBLES:

Reverie : A heartfelt banter between Mr and Mrs Ackles 🫶🏻

Sam Winchester :

ONE/TWO SHOTS AND DRABBLES :

Uncertainty : A case leads Y/n to some revelations. 🌧️🫶🏻

What’s a girl gotta do : Find out what’s a girl gotta do to be loved. 🫶🏻

Slumber Party: Sam’s girl braids his hair. 🫶🏻

Others:

Blue eyed stud : Damon X Reader. (TVD)

[zepskies]

Series Masterlist - Smoke Eater

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

AN: "Smoke eater": a self-appointed slang term for a firefighter.

Get ready for an AU! Several SPN characters will make their appearances: Sam and John Winchester, Castiel as "Cas Novak," Ellen and Jo Harvelle, Jack Kline, Benny Lafitte, Gordon Walker, Meg Masters, Chuck Shurley, Nick (yes, even him), and more!

Series Tags/Warnings: (**18+ only!) There will be a lot of heart, a lot of fun, drama, heartbreak, protective Dean, and even a murder mystery. Rating for eventual smut, perilous situations, and other chapter-specific tags.

🎵 Listen While You Read:

The Smoke Eater Playlist: YouTube || Spotify

Chapters:

Part 1 - Class and Style - Podcast Version!

Part 2 - Lieutenant Winchester

Part 3 - Got a Hold on Me

Part 4 - Rocky Road

Part 5 - Twitterpated

Part 6 - Just Casual

Part 7 - Cherry Pie & Lemon Drizzle

Part 8 - Likewise, Baby

Part 9 - Do Not Disturb

Part 10 - Toil and Trouble

Part 11 - Heart of the Home

Part 12 - All in the Family

Part 13 - Boiling Point

Part 14 - Message in a Bottle

Part 15 - The Good Part

Part 16 - Break Down the Gates

Part 17 - The Real Deal

Part 18 - V for Vendetta

Part 19 - Sacrifice

Epilogue - Easy as Pie

Series Complete!

Bonus One-Shots:

Something Real** Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…

(Want to listen to the podcast version? Keep scrolling below!)

🎙️ Podcast Fics:

Listen to Part 1 in podfic form!

(A "podfic" is where you can listen to the story narrated.)

(Cover image and narration by @talltalesandbedtimestories)

Or listen to the official Idling in the Impala episode of Smoke Eater Part 1 on YouTube:

Or listen on Spotify.

Listen to the Idling in the Impala podfic episode of the sequel story, Something Real below:

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Join My Patreon 🌟

Dean Winchester Series List

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List:

Comment below if you'd like to be tagged in this series!

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420

[thesilmarillionblog]

𝐖𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 ─ Special Part 𝟷

Pairing: Dean Winchester x F! Reader

Warnings: +18! (Minors DNI), SMUTTTT! (their second first time hehe), oral sex (f! receiving), prejaculation problems, jealous dean, unprotected sex, established relationship, gentle dean, insecure reader, sweet, fluff

Word Count: 5588

A/N: English is not my first language.

A/N 2: This is a special chapter for complete series WASTE. You can read this special part as a one-shot or after reading the series.

After seeing how exhausted you were in the mirror, you hurriedly changed and washed your face frantically when your shift finally finished. While brushing your hair, you were moving so fast that you injured your finger, acting as though you were heading into battle rather than meeting Dean. Your boyfriend. Thank you very much.

You've been experiencing butterflies in your stomach and all over since he sincerely expressed a week ago that he wanted to establish a new kind of relationship with you. You remembered how sweet the times he took care of you until you got better were, and you smiled to yourself as you applied lipstick. You continued putting on lipstick just because you were too focused on him to realize that you looked like a clown. Panicked, you wiped your lips quickly once more. God. You needed something like a trial month to get used to dating the person you fell in love with.

It was enough to make your cheeks flush like someone had painted your face crimson to think about him and your first date. You hurried out of the hospital after making sure you didn't look like you'd been working long hours.

When you saw Dean grinning and watching you as you walked closer with small but rapid steps, you were fairly certain he could see how thrilled you were and how your eyes were sparkling with joy. You were afraid that he would feel stuck to you after your confession, but your anxieties were swiftly allayed when you saw him offer his arms.

As soon as Dean had you in his strong arms, your hands found him again, and he started kissing you without saying a word, making you melt with crave. His fingers grabbed your chin and kissed you quickly but passionately. In between kisses, he spoke. “I,” another kiss. “..missed,” One more kiss. “...you too.” There, you were on the clouds.

At last, you withdrew, pressing him to his car while your hands moved from his handsome face to his jacket. When he noticed that you had been acting a little playful since the morning, Dean grinned. He had insisted on waiting until you were fully recovered, even though it had been a while and you were desperate to have sex with him. However, you were skeptical if he was merely taking pleasure in watching you become a little sexually frustrated.

“You know, it seems like you could fill me at any moment.” Dean laughed as he saw himself as the one who had pressed against the car. “I'd rather get spanked on the ass before I get laid.”

You stopped kissing him and giggled at his filthy remark as you withdrew. “I'll keep that in mind.”

He inquired as he opened the car door for you, “So, how was your day?”

“It was good,” you replied, watching him work the car. “For the first time today, Robb and I—” began talking excitedly, but you stopped when Dean's smile vanished and his eyes narrowed, waiting for you to finish your sentence.

“Go on, sweetheart,” he murmured solemnly, mimicking your voice while you bit your inner cheeks to keep from laughing at his voice.

You whispered, “Don't be jelly,” but you couldn't resist touching his hands on the steering wheel. When he was acting unreasonably jealous about Robb, it was difficult to keep your hands to yourself. After all, he was only an old friend. “I'm close friends with him. I was about to say that he and I worked together today.”

“Jealous? Me? He should be jealous of me since I'm the handsome guy in here,” he simply said. It's clear that Dean was attempting to imagine what you meant by working together. There was no doubt that he didn't enjoy the way it sounded. “Does he know about us?”

You were taken aback by the question he asked. You looked at Dean remorsefully, remembering that you hadn't discussed private matters with Robb recently since you were sick and too preoccupied with your lover lately. “Uhm... No.”

“And why is that?” Now that he was really irritated, Dean turned his head to your side, and you told him to keep his eyes on the road.

“We haven't had a proper conversation in the past few days. I was busy with healing under my beloved's hands,” you whispered softly as you lightly traced your fingers over his hand on the steering wheel. When he looked at you for a moment, you gave him an innocent smile, and the corner of his lips curled as he watched you caress his skin in your own naive manner.

“Stop giving me that look. It won't work. I would like to visit you soon so your friend may congratulate us. Is that okay?” Because you didn't want him to have concerns about your close friend, you nodded to him instead of rolling your eyes at him though you wanted to.

“Does Sam know about us?” This time, you queried suspiciously, and Dean cleared his throat, clearly considering his justification. You've got him.

“When we get there, he'll learn.” He continued, almost embarrassed, “We've been busy cuddling and spending time together, right, sweetie?”

“Robb and I haven't spoken much lately since we both were busy,” You whispered, “You didn't bother to tell something to your brother?” You couldn't help but feel a bit uneasy if Dean was reconsidering your relationship. Your hands stopped on him, even if you didn't want to stop touching him as if you were trying to start your first fight by putting physical distance.

“Hey, he's somewhat aware of what happened between us. He finally figured it out before I came to see how you were that day, after all. I felt that we should be very upfront about our relationship before talking to others. Also, I would really like to see Sam’s face when he sees us like this today.” Your heart melted at Dean's unbelievably beautiful action once he took your hand in his and kissed it.

“You're good at words, aren't you?” You gave him a smile, and he was pleased to see how quickly you softened.

“Only when my ass is hunted.” He gave you a wink, and you both chuckled.

Despite having keys, Dean pounded on the door harshly, presumably to annoy his brother when you got there. When Dean grabbed your hands in his and rubbed your skin with his thumb, you felt a sudden wave of timidity. It was funny to watch you becoming anxious, but Dean didn't say anything to stop you from being shy as you continued to nibble your inner cheeks.

Sam was cursing at Dean as he opened the door, and his hair was still shampooed, and he was only holding a tiny towel between his legs, covering his obvious part.  Dean immediately let go of your hand and closed your eyes when he saw that his brother's entire body was visible, but for the small towel covering his dick. “Fucking hell, Sam!” he shouted, and you put your hands on his and loosened his touch because Dean was pressing on your eyes as though you could see something.

“Where the heck are your damn keys?” Sam said firmly, as you heard. He complained about obviously the shampoo getting in his eye.

“Just fucking go to your room and put some damn clothes on!” Dean said, ignoring his inquiry, as if he were speaking to a small child. “Bitch.”

You groaned in frustration, “Dean!” Your hands were tightly clasped around his, and Dean was making sure you didn't see anything until Sam's naked ass vanished entirely. He used his leg to close the door and forced you to move, but you were terrified of hitting a part of your body.

When he finally released his hands, you rubbed your eyes and exhaled in relief. You walked over to him and gave him a light slap on the side of his stomach. “God’s sake, when did you become so jealous? He's your brother.”

“Who's jealous?” As you sat down on the couch, he whispered to you. He immediately pulled you into his arms and squeezed your nose between his fingers, causing you to giggle. “I simply don't want anyone to be seen out in the open, wandering ass naked. I define it as 'home principles'.”

You arched an eyebrow in remembrance of the day you arrived home to examine Dean's wounds and found him walking half-naked, with only a towel wrapped around his belly, as though he was doing it intentionally. “I guess the rules don't work for you, Mr. Winchester.”

“Who knows, maybe I just wanted to impress one of my friends a little.”

You put your finger to his mouth and muttered, “Hmm,” as he approached to plant a kiss on you. “What do you say? Is she impressed?”

“Fell so hard.” His hands were already on your thigh and on top of you when he nearly groaned, taking your hands into his and giving you a tender kiss. Immediately, your leg wrapped over his hips, pulling him closer as you grasped his shirt.

You had both forgotten your surroundings, and Dean's gentle, sweet kisses had changed to forceful, passionate ones till Sam cleared his throat. It had been a long time since Dean had been inside of you the last time. “Hold on for a minute. Since when are you two eating out each other?” Clearly a little surprised as he saw you two become lost in the moment, Dean on top of you, he exclaimed, “What the hell did I miss?” Sam disgusted his brother when Dean was acting like a rabbit in heat while he was around. He frowned.

As soon as you heard Sam's puzzled but playful tone, you used all of the power you had to shove Dean away from you, causing him to groan in agony as he crushed the coach's corner. You patted his back and hastily muttered an apology.

Sam was waiting for a response with his hands folded across his chest when you pressed your lips together and gave him a bashful smile.

“We talked it out; are you blind?” Dean bent slightly and muttered this in a grumpy manner, suggesting that he needed your small massage a bit more. He also pointed out the area that needed your touch. You were yearning to slide your hands under his shirt. It would definitely feel great to be skin to skin. Only to look after him, of course.

He was already being whiny even though you hadn't pushed him that hard. You suspected that all he wanted was your attention, which you were glad to give him in whatever amount he demanded.

“Yes? Now, what are you two? Does it contain the ‘no strings attached’ thing?” Sam sat on the chair and looked at you and Dean inquisitively as he checked his phone, looking like he was waiting for a call.

Your hands on Dean's back slowed. You whispered, “What does that even mean?” Dean became tense beneath your touch.

“Don't you see what we are exactly right now?” Dean said, looking at Sam intently as though he wanted him to stop talking.

Sam gazed at you, amused by his brother's response and the warning that Dean gave him to stop talking. “You've probably heard that phrase before. It's stated on Dean's dating app profile. You just fuck and spend time in a 'no strings attached' relationship, but you never fall in love.”

When Sam explained it, your face sank, and you looked at Dean for a moment before returning your hand to yourself. After all, he never declared he loved you. Even though you haven't fucked yet, you were disheartened to see that Dean was using a dating app like this and had that term on his profile.

“Are you using a dating app?”

“No! I mean, I used to, but not anymore. Deleted already.” He throws a pillow in Sam's face angrily and explains, “Sam is just trying to be a pain in the ass right now.”

��Well, you'd better periodically check his PC and phone, Y/N. Dean probably doesn't mind if you impose some control on him.” When Sam saw that Dean was growing irate, which was a positive sign because he seemed really in love with you, he threw back the pillow to Dean with an enormous grin on his face.

You mumbled, “I don't do that!” But now you were a little curious.

Your eyes narrowed suspiciously. You bit his lip a little when Dean kissed you, but you couldn't help but smile into the kiss when he made a noise that sounded like an animal whining. When Sam got the message he had been waiting for from Ruby, he couldn't help but smile and roll his eyes at your goofy moment before getting up.

“Congratulations, by the way, although I must admit that I thought you and Robb would make a good couple. Friends to lovers, lovers to childhood friends to lovers... It's the healthiest way of relationship building, so I guess it always works. However, picking Dean... Good luck with that. After spending enough time with his insufferable ass, he turns a lot of women lesbians.”

When his brother was telling him that you and Robb would look fine together, Dean shot him a severe look that made him think of absurd things that were disturbing him. He should have just said ‘congratulations’ and departed. In a possessive way, Dean's hand seized your waist and drew you closer to him. “As you can see, bitch, it already worked in a really healthy way. I'm telling you, if you liked him that much, you should give it a shot. You won't work with Ruby anyways. You'll see that.”

“Dean!” you warned him as he began insulting Sam and his girlfriend. You could see he meant every word from the way he was distant while she was around.

“I'm just being honest here,” he defended himself when Sam started to tell how good Ruby was to him they kind of had chemical pull. “He's sabotaging our relationship here.”

“He's just messing with you.”

Sam lifted his hands in surrender as Dean became a little irate as Sam started to walk toward the door, all the while Dean continued to criticize his brother and tell you about the dating service he used and every detail he put there, how it was unimportant.

The last thing Dean said to Sam before he left the house was, “Don't fucking come back tonight.”

“Not on the couch, and use protection!” Sam winked at you, and before Dean could respond, he hurriedly closed the door behind him, his smile wide, your cheeks flushed.

Since you were no longer sick and had the entire night ahead of you, you actually hoped Dean would approach you and so that you could take a bit more pleasure in the relationship you had. You've been feeling somewhat sexually frustrated recently, so you wondered whether he was thinking the same thing. You couldn't help but wonder if Dean was less interested in you since he was eager to spend his nights with women before you, practically used to having fun.

“So,” you began, lowering your voice to block out the unwanted ideas that were distracting you. “What are our plans for tonight?” You moved slightly on the couch and started using both hands to rub Dean's neck.

Dean smiled broadly and quickly sat you on his lap, causing you to gasp. “Well, just like we planned, we're going to watch a good movie and spend fancy time together like the lovely couple we are.”

Even though you were a little bashful, you inquired, “And?” to find out whether Dean had any other splendid ideas with you. After all, Sam wouldn't be here all night.

As Dean watched you try to express what you really intended to happen tonight, his smile widened. Due to wanting you to know that he was real with you and that what you had had nothing to do with sex, he had been putting off your cravings for a while no matter how much he yearned to be inside you.

“And what?”

“You're enjoying this, aren't you?” His hands lingered delicately around your hips as you whispered and moved your fingertips across his chest. He was just taking pleasure in your efforts, even though he got what you were suggesting.

“I have no idea what you're talking about. I'm a naïve man.” You nearly rubbed against Dean as he drew your body closer to his. The way he touched you caused your body to react so intensely that you might melt at any second.

“Well, that's unfortunate. In his home, alone with him, I hoped to spend some romantic time with my boyfriend.” When you tentatively moved on him a bit, doing your hardest to seem confident even if you didn't feel like it, Dean's smirk changed to a cunning smile. He opened his legs wider to offer you extra room to move, as if he wanted you to demonstrate how much you needed him, even though you already wanted him to take action.

“I wouldn't want to shatter my girlfriend's hopes, though. Don't you think that would make me something of an awful boyfriend?” He whispered as his hands gently moved up your waist and into your shirt. You instantly shuddered when he touched you. Even though he had touched you several times, the way he was doing it now seemed different, as though your body was preparing for what was about to happen.

“I think so.” You gasped when Dean's seductive lips fiercely captured yours before you could respond, yet you instantly returned his kisses by wrapping your hands around his neck.

In between kisses, he said, “I've been patient with you, right, sweetheart?” as you frantically pushed yourself against his bulge.

“It would be better if you weren't. I missed you.”

Dean groaned in eagerness against your lips as you spoke, and his hands further squeezed your hips into his manhood to express how much he desired you. He craved this. Your bodies were on the verge of exploding, but shyness was keeping you in control, and he had control over how you moved on top of him.

When he let his hands slide into your shirt and began unbuttoning it, the sensation of his hands on your flesh made your body tremble. He was not quick nor sluggish. He was staring into your eyes when he let it go down on your shoulders. Dean looked at you with such tenderness and desire that it was enough to make your pulse race. But you were too thrilled to blink or even swallow. You just let him do all the work as you waited on top of him.

He continued to maintain eye contact even after you were down to wearing only your bra. After giving you another passionate kiss, Dean carried you to his room. As if to officially proclaim your relationship, you kissed into the smile when you knew you would finally be able to touch and feel each other completely.

Dean placed your body on his bed and used his foot to close the door behind him. When you felt the smooth sheets on your back in Dean's bed, you felt as though it was your first time with him. The first time you spent with him was on the couch, and the second time was in someone else's bed, which was not a very nice experience.

“Are you absolutely okay with this?” Breaking the kiss, Dean asked. His lips were crimson from the kissing.

“Having my attractive boyfriend between my legs? Let me think....” you said playfully while you slid your fingers under his shirt and touched him in a teasing way. “Yes.”

“Good. I don't want to wander around with blue balls anymore.”

You said, “We don't want that,” and Dean kissed you again, more urgently, as if you didn't have any time.

Dean started licking your neck after releasing his hold on your lips to let you both catch your breath. You were a bit nervous, but you didn't want this to stop. Instead of worrying about things, you did your best to give yourself permission to feel Dean in that very moment.

With your hands running shamelessly down his wide chest and muscular abs, Dean swiftly removed his shirt once you grabbed it and signaled for him to do so. Your eyes were now fixed on his body. He urged you to get up a little and unbuckle your bra as soon as his lips started to go downward. You kept telling yourself that you weren't a virgin and that you had waited a long time to do that with Dean when your body tensed instantly, but you didn't want him to feel that way. Under your lover's flawless body, you were all right.

Without waiting a second, he removed your bra and began sucking and softly biting your nipple. Now you had to take deep breaths. Dean dropped his other hand, which was kneading your other breast, and unbuttoned your jeans as he escalated his sucklings after noticing that you were slightly nervous and not unwinding or making any loud noises.

Dean quickly pulled back after he was finished with your tits and removed your jeans with your panties with a single move. He was still wearing his pants, and you were now lying on his bed, entirely naked. When he gave you a sweet yet passionate smile and stared at you intensely, you felt somewhat vulnerable. “You do realize, my dear, that this isn't the first time, right? Why are you so tense?” he whispered as he positioned himself between your legs and started gently brushing you in an attempt to soothe and calm you.

It's true that his gentle hands helped you relax.

“I'm not tense,” you said, smiling shyly but steadily looking into his eyes. Your body was already longing for more, so it would be a huge letdown if he decided to alter his mind now.

Dean started unbuckling his belt while staring straight into your eyes. The noise that filled the room made your heart race even faster, and you thought your walls were already tightening around nothingness as he swiftly removed his underwear and jeans. And now he was lying on top of you, naked too. You couldn't help but smile when you recalled how dark it was and how you didn't see each other well on your first and second times. That would be your second first time.

You grabbed Dean by the neck and started kissing him, allowing all of your worries and negative thoughts to subside as a wave of bliss swept over your whole being. Everything you wanted, dreamt about, and loved was yours. You could tell Dean cared about you even though he didn't say the same three words.

You were reminded of Dean's hardness as he positioned himself between your legs and promptly returned your kisses. This time, you were unable to stop moaning into his lips and wildly lifting your hips to get him to take charge and enter you right away.

“Dean,” you protested frantically into his lips, causing his cock to ache with desire, but he drew back a bit instead of thrusting inside you and spreading your legs more. Under there, you felt like you were leaking.

Dean ran his tongue over your entire body. When his lips moved closer to your abdomen and he didn't stop, you stiffened up again. Your legs shook as you realized he was about to place his head between your legs, right there, so you covered yourself with your hands on your pussy to stop him in his path. You had no clue what he was planning to do.

You said, “What are you doing?” When you covered your pussy with both hands to prevent Dean from sucking you off, he was perplexed.

“What do you suppose I'll do, my beloved? I have to taste you.” Dean swiftly grabbed your hands without waiting for you to speak, and suddenly there was nothing between his face and your pussy. You arched your back.

“Stay still, baby,” he murmured, sounding almost frustrated. “You're gonna love this.”

As you remained still beneath Dean, his lips were now on your clit, and his hands were locked on yours, making sure you didn't interrupt his little enjoyment. Your back arched instantly as his warm lips found your most sensitive spots and attacked your clit to taste you. You moaned aloud as Dean stuck his tongue out and gave your clit a hard lick, and you were now unable to stop suppressing your voice. Your moans became louder the more he nibbled you, sucked you, and kissed you there.

The little, soft noises you were making under him as he swallowed your lovely pussy were making Dean hard as a stone, even though he never liked noisy partners. Once he entered you, he knew it wouldn't take long to reach his satisfaction. Dean continued to suck you in order to ensure that you were thoroughly relaxed. He held himself back and made sure you enjoyed the procedure even though he longed to touch himself when you were arching your back and placing your legs on his shoulders without even realizing it.

You attempted to warn him just before you came. “Wait, Dean! Dean, I'm almost—” As your walls constricted and his lips and tongue continued their wonderful agony, you moaned and attempted to shove him off by also trying to get your hands free of him, but Dean was now holding you still even tighter, intensifying his attacks on your clit.

Rather, he went on to lick your pussy while moving with greater force on your clit. Your legs on his wide shoulders shook wildly as you did your best to break free of his tight grip, but as he pushed his tongue into your wet hole, you reached your peak. It was even more intense than the times he fingered you. This time, you extended your legs a bit wider and started to lift your hips to ensure that he kept his lovely, skilled lips there until you rode your orgasm, rather than attempting to push him away. When you felt him grumbling as he made sure to swallow your come and continued sucking you even after you became too sensitive, you couldn't stop moaning.

As you fought to control your breathing, Dean gave you a gentle kiss on the thighs and climbed on top of you once again. Dean's warmth was enough to warm you up even when you felt cold.

“You have a really sweet taste, honeycomb. From now on, we should do that frequently,” Dean stated, causing your cheeks to flush. “Taste yourself, sweetheart; see how delicious you taste.”

Now that his tongue was inside your lips, Dean groaned as you gave him a more intense kiss as he tasted your own cum. The intensity of your kisses increased with every second. You stiffened up uncontrollably again when Dean grabbed his pulsing cock into his own hands and drew back a bit. You didn't have any second thoughts, or there was nothing wrong. You were desperate for him to enter you. But you couldn't help but become a little nervous.

Dean gave his thick cock a few more strokes while spreading your legs a bit wider. You became excited when you realized he wanted to get inside of you without using condoms. In any case, you were on the pill.

Uncertain of what to do at this point, you grabbed him by the shoulders as he positioned himself between your legs. He was staring into your eyes as he slightly pushed himself within, but you tensed up and pulled back without noticing.

Eagerly, “Come on,” he urged. “You're wet enough to take me. Just relax.”

You said, “Sorry,” in an apologetic tone, afraid that you would spoil this wonderful moment.

“It's okay.” Dean responded gently, “Just look at me,” but it was obvious that his cock hurt and that he needed to be inside you now.

You looked into his eyes as you moved slightly beneath him and placed your hands over his back. You hoped your flushed cheeks and messy hair didn't make you appear ridiculous.

Dean pushed his cock within you without waiting any longer after giving himself another stroke. You were fighting to keep from nailing his back while holding your breath. Dean was thick, but not particularly long. It was just the head inside of you when you whimpered.

You frantically said, “Dean, slow down!” as he kept pushing his cock. Even though you were bizarrely more at ease the previous time, this time seemed different. You were a little worried up because you wanted him to feel good. Perhaps you should have offered to give his cock the same mouth action. Is it appropriate to make the offer now? You didn't know.

“I'm not even moving fast. Calm down, you're almost there,” he said. “You're doing so good.”

His praises caused your body to relax a bit. However, your walls clenched around him due to the pressure his cock provided. It seemed as though you were on the verge of experiencing your orgasm once again. Dean looked at you as soon as he sensed that. “Don't come yet.” But your body was out of control.

Dean groaned, realizing that despite his best attempts, you were a little too sensitive and tense at the moment. Then, with a single thrust, he shoved his hardness inside of you, making you moan and bite your lips fiercely. His hands were buried on each side of your hips as he grumbled, nearly in agony, “Fuck, how are you so tight?”

The way you were tightening around Dean and staring at him with your gorgeous red cheeks didn't make him any softer. You were both like teens now, but he needed to take his time and enjoy that moment with you. "Will you just quit clenching, sweetie? You're a lot tighter already." He said, “I won't be able to hold it back,” as Dean withdrew slightly and thrust in you again.

You responded, “I'm really trying,” but you knew you wouldn't last long.

“Fuck,” he whispered, and without wasting any time, Dean started to fuck you quickly and deeply after realizing that you couldn't control your body at the moment.

“You feel so good around me, so perfect,” Dean said, groaning against your lips and placing his hand on your chin, amazed at how tight you were around him. “Are you mine?”

He kept slapping his hips into yours, but you were just able to moan and wrap your legs around his hips. “Always,” you murmured. Your heart was pounding with nervousness and thrill as the room filled with the filthy noises made by skin contact, yet you continued to stare into Dean's eyes in awe at how much he was having fun fucking you. Your spirit purred with joy as you could see him getting satisfaction from the way he tightened his grip on your chin and his increasing speed.

“Dean!” you cried out in despair as he aggressively and deeply drove his cock inside of you, causing the bed to shake and the walls to slam.

“Don't come yet, sweetheart!” Your walls suddenly clutched around him so tightly that you couldn't contain yourself, and your orgasm hit harder this time. When you realized you hadn't given him exactly what he wanted, you felt worry growing.

As your climax continued to make you quiver with ecstasy, you frantically exclaimed, “I'm sorry!” as you continued to move beneath him as though you could flee, but Dean's firm grip on your hips prevented you from moving.

With a loud moan, Dean buried his head on your neck and started painting your walls with his white ropes since he could no longer hold himself back. Your eyes widened in surprise as you felt his thick cum in your walls while you were still shaking from orgasm and realized he didn't pull back this time. You shivered as you felt him spilling since you didn't think he would, but as you focused on his moans and how he jerked inside of you, your lips gently curved into a smile. The way he kept you motionless as you both rode your orgasm was so intense and fulfilling that you could come again, even though.

Dean offered you a reassuring smile and a hard kiss on the neck after your orgasms had subsided. “Well, it looks like we have too much to do with your sensitivity.”

You smiled shyly at him. “You shouldn't have teased me for that long.”

Dean laughed, then put a blanket over your bodies and grabbed you in his arms after kissing your forehead strongly and affectionately. You were already feeling drowsy. “Look on the bright side. Practice makes perfect, right?”

You smiled and murmured, “We'll see about that,” as you drew nearer to him, prepared to get some sleep.

Observing that you were already ready to go to sleep, Dean assumed that you wouldn't be prepared for the second round. He should undoubtedly have needed to work on that as well. His arms were drawing tighter around your body. You realized that you couldn't be happier right then and there.

A/N: It's not very good, sorry for that but I hope you like it. Let me know what you think pls <3333

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[kaleldobrev]

Prologue — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester & Unnamed Hunter Boyfriend (OC)

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.5k

Chapter Warnings: Age Gap (15 years) & Self-Loathing Dean

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | Thoughts are in italics | Switches between reader & Dean's POV but it's still written in the second person | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

Dean sat on the edge of his bed looking at his surroundings that he hadn’t seen in so long. Although it’s only been a few months, it felt like an eternity to him. Everything was still in the exact same place he had left it; and he wasn’t sure if he should be relieved about that or not.

Being in his bedroom back in the Bunker came with a wide variety of emotions. He was happy to be back in a place that he had called home for the past several years, a place where he was finally able to have his own room again since he was four years old. But yet, there was another part of him that wanted to take his keys and drive off somewhere. He loved Sam, he loved Cas but, it was hard to face them again after everything he had done, and after everything he had put them through. Not only during the months he was gone, but during the short amount of time they were trying to cure him of a disease he strangely enjoyed.

“You weren’t you,” Sam had told him repeatedly as if he was a broken record. But Dean didn’t believe his words for a second. He enjoyed being a demon more than he liked to admit. Being able to kill whoever he wanted whenever he wanted without consequence fueled him. Being able to fuel the Mark was easy, being a demon was easy. Being a demon weirdly came natural to him.

Sitting at your desk, you endlessly scrolled through news story after news story, trying to find any excuse to leave your apartment, as it was a place that was currently not giving you the usual sense of peace it tended to provide you. Your apartment was usually your safe space, a place that you could relax and unwind in after a tough hunt. But ever since your boyfriend moved in, it had become a place that you no longer felt safe and calm in.

You and your boyfriend hadn't been together for that long — roughly a year — but during a majority of your relationship, it has been argument after argument, and the arguments were always about the same couple of things. He was either disrespecting you or upset that you didn't bring him along on one of your hunting trips.

He hadn't been a hunter for long — barely two years — and you met him within his first year. You had met him while on a werewolf case, as the two of you found the same lead and decided to work together since he really had no experience with werewolves. For some reason, the two of you clicked, and had been together ever since.

Whenever you and him tended to get into an argument, you wondered why you were still with him, knowing that you could do better. He didn't treat you right, and often undermined you in front of other hunters, sometimes taking credit for your own hunts. You tried to rationalize it, often saying that he was the best you were ever going to do because there was no way you could be with someone that wasn't a hunter, as you felt being with someone that wasn't one would put them in more harm, and you couldn't risk it. But the words of your mother started echoing in your head now, "It's better to be alone than to be with someone who disrespects you." You knew she was right; she was always right.

As you were about to give up, a news story finally jumped out at you, and it screamed poltergeist — your specialty.

Dean stared up at the ceiling, wanting more than anything to fall asleep; but the events of the last few months kept replaying in his head. "You weren't you," Sam's words repeated again and again.

No matter how many times Sam's words repeated, Dean still refused to believe it, as when he was a demon, he felt more like himself than he had been in such a long time; and that scared him.

The things that he did as a demon he would have done regardless; but the only reason he did the things that he did was because he knew there were no consequences, his conscience wasn't trying to stop him. Sam or Cas weren't there to stop him especially.

The Mark started itching again, getting hot with need. I need to kill something, he thought.

Getting off the phone with you, Sam sighed, looking at his slinged arm. There was no way he was going to be able to help you with this case, but it was far too late to call you back now; not after he already agreed to help you. The last thing he wanted to do was disappoint you, as you were a big help to him while Dean was gone.

Sam was impressed by you to say the least, as despite your age, you were a damn good hunter with a decent amount of experience under your belt. He hadn't known you for very long — meeting you within the last couple of months — but you had quickly become someone he had grown to deeply trust; and he was incredibly thankful for that, and thankful for you.

Placing his phone back into his pocket, he grabbed his duffel bag and started packing some of the essentials. The case you asked him to join you on was one that was pretty straightforward, so he assumed it wouldn't take more than a couple of days. That's when his mind started to wander, wondering why you had asked for his help in the first place, as poltergeists were one of your specialties and it was the type of case that you could do in your sleep, but yet, you asked him for help.

Closing up your laptop, you grabbed it bringing it over to your bed, before going underneath it and grabbing your duffel. You started packing all of the essentials for a case that would only take you a couple of days. The case was an easy one, one that you could easily do in your sleep, but yet, you called Sam Winchester to help you. There was a small twinge of regret after you got off the phone with him, and you debated back and forth as you packed to call him back up again and tell him, 'Never mind, I got this Sammy.' But deep down, you wanted the company; you wanted to be with someone that treated you like an equal unlike your boyfriend.

"Going on a case?" Your boyfriend asked from behind you.

You turned to look at him for a moment, and he was leaning against the doorway, staring at you as you packed. "Yes," you said, plainly. Even if you weren't going on a case, you felt like you didn't need to explain anything to him.

"Where's the case? I can join you," he offered. But his offer wasn't a genuine one, as the only reason he offered to go with you was to try and make up the argument to you in some way. But you weren't in the mood for any of his gestures.

"Tulsa," you said. "I already called another hunter to help me."

"What hunter?" He asked, making his way to the bed so he could sit down on the edge like he usually did whenever you were attempting to pack for a case.

You looked at him again, annoyed that he kept interrupting your packing. He didn't need to know what hunter was going with you, and he didn't know where the case was going to be. But yet, you felt like you needed to tell him in order to get him off your back. "Sam Winchester," you said simply, and you saw his eyes grow wide.

"Sam Winchester?" He questioned. "Really?"

"Yeah, what's wrong with Sam Winchester?" You asked, curious as to what he had to say about him, as you knew he had never met him. But there were times when you and him would be spending time with fellow hunters, and he would claim that he knew Sam; a bold statement that, whenever said, you tried to hold back a laugh.

“Nothing it’s just…the Winchester’s tend to get a lot of their partners killed,” he said. Your brows furrowed, not only because you were confused on where he heard that, but you’ve hunted with Sam a few times already, and your boyfriend never brought that up to you before.

“I’ve hunted with Sam a few times now, and I’m still alive,” you said, zippering up your duffel. “He’s a great hunting partner, very careful.”

“For now, you’re alive and for now he’s being careful. What happens when he bails on you to save himself?” Your boyfriend asked, his tone excitable now.

“I don’t know because I know for a fact that won’t happen,” your tone was serious and stern, defensive. Despite not knowing Sam for a long time, you trusted him more on hunts than your own boyfriend. “I trust Sam.”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 1

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[sammyofold]

Here are those fic recs I promised you @incesthemes ! I hope there's some in there that you'll really enjoy <3 I split up the recs into overarching tropes to group some together, but I'll start with those that don't fit into any of the groups.

The list got a bit long, so I decided to split it up into two parts.

(Part 1 | Part 2)

Courting Death by theproblematique.

Summary: Sam Winchester lived the first six months of his life in a happy family; the next twelve years as John Winchester's only son, and the last decade as an orphan. He's supposed to die at twenty-two trying to save the woman he loves from a fire, because he doesn't have a brother to pull him back. But the night Sam meets his Reaper he discovers that Death is overly fond of pop-culture references, too beautiful to be real, and reluctant to kill him.

Servant of Servants 'verse by klove0511.

This is a two-part series (though I think it might've been intended to have more fics, its ending doesn't leave you feeling snubbed), posing the question: "what if it had been Sam who'd been mortally wounded at the end of Season 1?"

love potion no. 9 by according2thelore.

Summary: Dean drinks a love potion. Sam is falling apart at the seams because he's been in love with his brother for more than a decade.

keep me in a daydream by according2thelore.

Summary: After an accidental kiss makes a hunt go suspiciously well, Sam and Dean decide to try it again. And again. And again. It's no different from wearing lucky socks, right? A 5 + 1.

for you and me (i got no alibi) by remy.

Summary: 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. It doesn't help that he's been in love with Dean for just about forever, and all of it feels like a mockery of something he'll never get to have. 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.

Ben Has Two Dads by regala_electra.

Summary: When Ben turns thirteen and learns that Dean Winchester is his father, he runs away to join his father (and uncle). A tale where boys are boys, Vikings are Vikings, unicorns go to Candy Mountains, Dean and Sam are in big gay love, and Ben becomes a Winchester.

Last Temptation by merle_p.

Summary: Sam is running a fever again, the kind of fever no Ibuprofen or cold compress will bring down, the kind of fever that is eating him up alive, eviscerating him from the inside. He is too hot and too cold and too pale, delirious and shaking, resonating with whatever divine energy the trials are subjecting him to, and Dean is not sure how much longer he can stand to see him be in this state. Because Sam is quite possibly dying, and there is nothing Dean can do to stop it. Because Sam is dying, and he just. Won’t. Shut. Up.

Five Times Dean Forgot and One Time He Remembered by elsi.

Summary: Rowena warned him the obliviate curse might have “aftershocks.” That Dean could relapse to his amnesiac state without warning—though only temporarily, she assured. But this? This goes beyond calling a lamp a “light stick.”

Whatever It Is by theproblematique.

Summary: Both Sam and Dean get sent to the year 2014.

Take My Hand (Take My Whole Life, Too) by TeacupUnicorn.

Summary: Sam and Dean get handcuffed together during a hunt. With a werewolf on their tail and a proximity to each other they haven’t had since they were kids, their unstable relationship is put to the test and their trust in each other is pushed to the limit. Set sometime after 5x16 and before 5x20.

Not Her Sam by Yuval25.

Summary: Future Dean goes back in time to change the future and saves Jess. Future Sam tags along unexpectedly. And Jess is okay. No, seriously. She's fine.

Mistaken For a Couple

101 - mythology by ani_coolgirl.

Summary: As Sam, Dean, and Kali flee Lucifer's slaughter, Kali makes an assumption. The boys try to clear up any misconceptions. They don't do a very good job.

I need you so much closer by cherryvanilla.

Summary: five times they're mistaken for a couple plus one time they actually are.

Domesticity

Paisley by samsexualdeancurious.

Summary: After his mind wall was broken and was healed, Sam knows he can’t be a hunter anymore, so he and Dean retire, and Sam ends up finding a homeless dog who was abused and together they heal.

The Chicago Verse by compo67.

This is a series spanning a whopping 169 fics. I've read only a few of them and I enjoyed Sam and Dean retiring in this town together. It's still updating, looks like, since the latest fic added was in May of this year.

a few things worth saying by hathfrozen.

Summary: “So this morning,” Dean ventures as they blast down the highway in pitch black night toward a probable werewolf case. Sam looks over at him, thin eyebrows raised, eyes clear and calm. He’s not even difficult about it, doesn’t ask what Dean is after, doesn’t deny what had happened. Instead he says, very simply, “I just figure, why lie?” Alright then.

All The Way In by hunters_retreat.

Summary: Sam never did know how exactly it happened. One day, he and Dean were run ragged, exhausted from yet another disaster of a hunt, no money and no gas, no prospects and no allies left alive to give them a hand. The next, they owned a store with a shooting range and Sam was a professor of religious studies at a local community college.

Pre-Series & Season 1

To Blow Against the Wind by dreamlittleyo.

Summary: After Oasis Plains, Sam and Dean can't. Stop. Touching each other.

Star-Crossed by Agent_Hellcat.

Summary: Before Sam departs for Stanford, he writes a letter to Dean, begging him to come to Palo Alto with him.

Birthday Suit by wincestation.

Summary: On the morning of Dean’s eighteenth birthday, Dad takes him to buy a suit. Sam is… interested.

house song by according2thelore.

Summary: “The werewolf.” Sam says, quick. Hushed. Scared. “I don’t know how. I was—He was standing above you and then he wasn’t. And I think I did that.” Dean keeps whispering stuff to Sam, banal reassurances that Sam soaks up like a sponge, but he feels sick. Sammy did something impossible. Sammy’s been doing impossible things. For years. Or: Pre-Canon/Teen!chesters AU in which Sam develops powers at age eleven, Dean will do anything to protect him, and they have to live with the consequences

Outsider POV

What I've Done by Amoreanonyname.

Summary: He wasn’t going to say anything more about it. He could tell, Dean was happy to see him, but wasn’t going to humor this topic. Dean, young Dean would jump to obey John, to answer John’s questions, but this was an older Dean who was more loyal to someone else now. More loyal to his brother. John wasn’t the priority here, and he realized with another guilty jump in his stomach that he never should have been.

something you love and understand by monsterq.

Summary: In heaven, Mary makes an unwelcome discovery about her sons’ relationship.

a skeleton terribly restless by remy.

Summary: Mary knows she doesn't fit right in this strange new world she's woken up in, with these grown men masquerading as her sons, but she tries her best. She really does. She closes her eyes to all the things she does not want to see, and she lies to herself until she's convinced. Until she can't.

Flowers on the Window Sill by orphan_account.

Summary: Sam and Dean Winchester's relationship as observed by the good people of Star's Hollow.

Soulmates

Fix You by non_tiembo_mala.

Summary: After their encounter with Famine, the boys are in dire straits. With Dean left shaken by the horseman's taunts - which rang truer than he'd like to admit - and Sam juiced up on demon blood again, Dean is at a loss. He has no idea how to move forward, or where they're meant to go from here. Then again, they’ve always had each other - perhaps their salvation isn't as far away as it seems.

All Too Familiar by sammichgirl.

Summary: Sam's new hobby has consequences they never saw coming. Turns out, that's OK with Dean after all.

What We Do by BleedingInk.

Summary: Castiel catches Sam and Dean in a compromising position.

since feeling is first by queenklu.

Summary: That he wants to think this is Dean yanking a leash should make his blood run cold, not aching hot. It should make him sick, angry, it should get his fucking hackles up and make him fight. He does want to fight. But there’s a skin-thin line between primal things, and fighting isn’t all he wants to do.

if the dam breaks open many years too soon by deirde_c.

Summary: Sam’s soul springs a leak, and Dean’s the one who can repair it.

In the beached margin of the sea by rivers_bend.

Summary: Sam and Dean black out on a hunt, and when they wake up, Dean's having visions and Sam can't get new, strange feelings out of his head. When John finds out about the side effects, he'll do anything to get rid of the "curse". But Sam and Dean don't want to go back to the way things were before.

I Don't Need A Symbol by amoreanonyname.

Summary: It hadn’t meant that much to Sam at first. A warm glow at being able to do something nice for Dean, to give him something for once, to make him as happy as he seemed when he put it on immediately. It was what it meant to Dean that made it mean something else to Sam.

[doctorbitchcrxft]

Folsom Prison Blues | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader

Dean Winchester x Reader (Eventual ? ;) )

Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, sexual harassment, crude sexual comments directed at reader, mentions of rape, panic attacks, sexual coercion, blackmail, recovery from an assault (PLEASE PLEASE EXERCISE CAUTION WHEN READING THIS CHAPTER IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO ANYTHING PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED! Please take care of yourselves, lovebugs.)

Word Count: 5303

A/N: This is definitely one of the darker chapters I’ve written. I just wanna reiterate that if you are at all triggered by mentions of rape or sexual harrassment happening toward the reader, please skip this chapter. However, there are no explicit scenes of assault. I always feel like that crosses a line when writers add those really descriptive scenes.

Remember, if you are a victim of anything like this, you are loved and you are not defined by what happens to you. As a victim myself, I completely understand if you make the decision to skip this week's chapter.

Again, please, please, please take care of yourself while you read this chapter. I love you all! And minors, definitely do not read. doooo notttt readddd.

Mobile Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

Supernatural Series Rewrite Masterlist

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“Have I mentioned that I hate this idea?” you said to Dean harshly, standing outside of the Impala.

Dean chuckled. “I think a few times.” He kissed your forehead. “Look, Deacon’s a friend of ours. He’s got you covered. See you in a few days, okay?”

“I fucking hate this idea,” you groaned.

Dean leaned down to kiss you, effectively cutting off your sentence. “Just trust me, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. “Fine. See you, Dee.”

And with that, you set off to meet a friend of John Winchester’s, Deacon, at Green River County Detention Center. Several men had been brutally murdered in the B-block of their men’s prison, and Deacon, the warden at the prison, had come to the Winchester brothers for help. Reluctantly, you agreed to pose as a guard in-training to be right there with the boys the whole time and to assist with their escape. 

Your plan was only able to be accomplished due to the fact that the FBI hadn’t gotten a clear photo of you; not from the bank and not from your previous arrest. Your mugshot from Baltimore had “mysteriously disappeared.” However, Sam’s and Dean’s photos were all over the place; Dean’s from St. Louis and a sketch of Sam from a witness in Milwaukee. The two boys were going to purposefully get arrested to be able to get into the B-block of the prison. That was why you hated the idea so much. 

Deacon was tough, you wouldn’t lie, but no tougher than your father. His whole “ex-military” thing didn’t intimidate you at all, and perhaps that was what kept the other officers from messing with you. You’d proved in your “training” how capable you were, and Deacon claimed that was part of the reason they accelerated the hiring process for you. 

However, your tough, impenetrable attitude didn’t deter the inmates from making jabs at you. Your first day on the job, a scrawny inmate with rotting teeth smacked your ass harshly in the cafeteria. You promptly had him on his stomach with his arm twisted behind his back. Deacon called you into his office afterward to fill out an incident report.

“Guessing you guys don’t have that many female hires, huh?” you asked Deacon upon entering his office.

He chuckled. “That’s a nice way of saying it. Most girls wouldn’t be caught dead in here, and we pretty much don’t hire ‘em. Just for their own safety.”

“Don’t you think that’ll raise some red flags, then? Especially given the fact that I appeared out of nowhere and ‘accelerated through training’?” you questioned.

“(Y/N), we don’t exactly hire the best and the brightest. Besides, that sort of thing happens with the guys all the time. Some get transferred from other prison, for others, this is their jumping-off point before they start workin’ for the police force. Actually, I think a lot of ‘em are too excited to see a girl to even think about where you came from. Trust me, nobody’s paying enough mind to your circumstance to notice any of the cracks,” he assured you. 

You let out a breath. “Okay. The boys get arrested yet?”

He nodded. “Should be on their way over now. Just finished questioning them a few counties over.”

“Wait, questioning them? How serious of a questioning are we talkin’ here?” you asked.

“Uh, I don’t know. That’s above my paygrade, kid,” he replied. “Look, I’m gonna be honest with you. This isn’t gonna be a cakewalk for you. I run a tight ship, but you’re fresh meat. Some of these guys haven’t seen a girl in fifteen, twenty, thirty years. When they see you, be prepared for some wild animals. What happened earlier isn’t gonna be an isolated incident. 

“But one of ‘em even looks at you funny, you tell me. Don’t go lookin’ for trouble, though. Keep your head down and only jump in when you absolutely have to. I have you on patrol of the cell blocks so there’ll at least be a barrier between you and them. At meal and rec time, though, I can’t protect you from what’ll happen.”

You nodded, bile rising in your throat. 

“Why don’t you get outta here? I’ll see you around, okay?”

You nodded again and smiled a little before turning around and heading out of the door. Some of the male guards snickered as you walked past them through the hallways of the prison, but you paid no mind to them. You were focused on seeing your boys again. 

“You don’t belong here,” one of the guards called after you.

You turned on your heel sharply. “What’d you say to me?” 

“You heard me, toots. Go back where you came from,” the guard replied, a foul smile across his face as his buddies snickered.

You gave him a challenging glare. “I’m gonna say this as politely as I can: get fucked.” 

You turned back around and walked away, only to feel a harsh yank on your arm to turn you to face the man. “What’d you say?”

“You heard me, toots,” you said, mocking him. “How small is your dick that a third-grade insult from me got you all fired up? And holy shit, do you need some listerine. You got halitosis? What’s going on there?”

The guard’s friends began to laugh, too, much to the chagrin of the man still holding your arm. He released you roughly, and you knew it’d bruise tomorrow. “I oughta teach you some respect,” he said.

“Oh yeah? And risk losing your job?” you questioned. “You make one wrong move, and I start screaming.”

He scoffed. “Whatever. Just fuck off.”

“That’s what I was doin’,” you replied, turning away again. This time, he let you leave, and you were grateful. You were trying to remain as unnoticed as possible during your time here; despite the fact that being the only female guard put an immediate spotlight on you. 

You continued down the corridor to your assigned patrol; right outside the doors of one of the cell blocks. You tried to seem as unfazed as possible in your nerve-wracking situation and walked with authority; as much as you could muster given most of these men towered over you. You mentally cursed your father for stunting your growth by starving you to make sure you stayed small for hunting purposes. Your baton in hand, you walked up and down the cells. 

“Hey, they got us a hooker,” one of the men from the cell laughed. “How much for the hour, sweetness?”

As that man’s cell erupted into laughter, you walked past another where a man was pleasuring himself in plain view of the hallway. You knew he was doing so to get a rise out of you, and you swallowed your nausea and continued walking. 

“I’m gonna fuck you real good, sweetheart,” a man growled from behind his bars. “At rec time, your ass is mine.”

Again, you just kept walking, ignoring their lewd and offensive comments. You prayed to see Sam, Dean, or Deacon sooner rather than later to continue going through with this. And for a moment, you wondered if this case was even worth it. ‘If these fucking scumbags are the ones dyin’, I’d be okay with that,’ you considered. 

***

At the prisoner’s scheduled lunch time, you held up the end of the line of prisoners heading to the cafeteria. Every time the men at the back of the line tried to turn their heads to sneak a glimpse at you, you used the butt of your baton to hit them on the back of the head and turn their gazes forward. You weren’t completely comfortable doing that, but you were doing your best to prove that you weren’t someone to be messed with.

When you arrived with your group of inmates in the cafeteria, you saw Sam and Dean sitting alone at a small table and talking in hushed voices. You hoped your face didn’t convey your relief to see them. Even though they were in orange jumpsuits, just the sight of the Winchesters made you feel safer. Dean caught you staring at him and smirked a little before turning back to his plate. You forced yourself to remain stoic and keep your hardened expression on your face. Dean got up from the table with his tray to go throw his food away, and Sam followed. Sam somehow didn’t notice a heavily tattooed prisoner with a thick goatee heading straight for him, and he crashed right into him.

“Sorry. I—” Sam tried.

“Watch where you're going,” the man said.

The brunet stumbled over his words. “Yeah. Sure. I just—”

Dean walked up in front of Sam, voice darkening. “He said he was sorry.”

“You talking to me?” the man scoffed. “Are you talking to me?” 

“Great, another guy who's seen Taxi Driver too many times,” Dean quipped. “Yeah, I'm talking to you. Trust me. Let it go.”

The tattooed man walked away, and Dean turned around to Sam. He said something quietly and winked at his brother, making Sam roll his eyes before catching sight of the much larger man the tattooed prisoner was walking back over to them with.

You tried to keep your composure when the man swung a punch at Dean. Dean, however, caught him and held him in place from behind. “We can end this right now. No harm, no foul,” the Older Winchester asserted.

The prisoner soon broke from Dean’s hold. He grabbed him again and slammed him against a wall. The man stepped back on Dean’s foot, and Deacon subtly jerked his head at you for you to step forward to help break up the situation.

“That’s enough!” Deacon commanded, walking over to the man Dean had brought to the floor. “On your feet, Lucas.”

The tattooed man, whose name you just found out, stood. “Yes, sir, boss.”

Deacon held out his baton and pushed Dean’s chin up with it. “What's your name?” he asked him.

“Winchester.”

“Well, Winchester, not a good start.” Deacon stared him down angrily. “Solitary. You too, Lucas.”

You immediately grabbed Dean’s wrists and began pushing him in the direction of solitary confinement while another guard grabbed Lucas. 

“Are we having fun yet, huh?” Dean called over your shoulder to Sam.

You roughly shoved him forward, making him face ahead again. 

“Y’know, I usually don’t let girls tie me up without a first date,” Dean quipped. You knew he was trying to rile you up and get you to break character for his own fun.

“If you wanna keep your tongue, I suggest you keep your mouth shut,” you replied forcefully.

For some reason, that comment seemed to excite Dean. You fought back an eye roll at his amused expression. You roughly shoved him— not too hard, just hard enough to sell it— into the solitary confinement cell and slammed the door shut. 

Dean smirked at you. “See you around, sweetheart.”

You tried to fight the heat rising to your cheeks, upset by how easily he could get a rise out of you. You left him in solitary confinement and followed the guard who’d brought Lucas to solitary back to the cafeteria. 

“The boys seem to like you a lot,” he sneered. “Havin’ fun yet?”

You recognized him as one of the men who’d taunted you after you left Deacon’s office earlier that morning.

“Buckets,” you responded dryly. 

“I can think of a few ways we could have some more fun,” he said to you, backing you into a wall. 

“Get off me!” Your breath quickened, and without even thinking about it, you used the flat part of your forearm to push his chest away and kneed him in the groin.  

“You bitch!” he yelped. You took off running back to the direction you thought the cafeteria was in, taking a moment to steady yourself against a wall. You couldn’t seem to catch your breath, and you slumped down against the wall, clutching at your chest. You closed your eyes and did your best to steady your breathing and thankfully succeeded. You wiped the few tears that had fallen from your eyes, and steeled yourself to go back out there. 

You rejoined your group of guards, including Deacon, and the other prisoners. Deacon seemed to notice you were upset but said nothing about it. All he said was, “You’re watching the bathrooms with Jones,” referring to your next assignment during the prisoners’ working hours and your partner for the time being. 

You were relieved to see Sam when you made it to your destination. He was having to scrub the floors with a mop that seemed to be more like ragged threads now than a cleaning tool. 

“How you doing?” Sam asked the older prisoner he was with.

“I’m fifty-four years old, mopping the floor of a crapper with bars on the windows. How you think I'm doing?” the man’s scratchy voice replied.

“Alright. Bad icebreaker. I'm Sam.”

“Randall.”

“Nice to meet y—” Sam cut himself off, seeming to have realized something. “Randall. Hey, weren't you there the night that guard died?” 

That caught your attention. You threw a look to the guard in the other part of the bathroom ensuring he was focused on other prisoners and not Sam and Randall’s conversation.

“Yeah,” the man replied.

“Well, what happened?” Sam pressed.

“They say the stress of the job got him.”

Sam stopped mopping. “Yeah? What do you say?”

Randall didn’t answer. “Why are you inside, kid?”

“ 'Cause I got an idiot for a brother.”

“That'll do it,” Randall replied. “Well, this place ain't so bad. Compared to the old cellblock, this is the damn Hilton.”

“You spent time in the old block?” Sam questioned.

“Oh, yeah, I was a regular customer.”

“Didn't they have Mark Moody over there for a while?” Mark Moody was the man who Sam and Dean suspected of being your ghost killer.

“He was there. Yeah I was there, too, the night that lunatic bought it,” Randall explained.

“Yeah? It was a heart attack, right?”

The older man chuckled. “Sure, his heart stopped right after the guard stopped using his head for batting practice. The next morning, I was in his cell, mopping up the blood. What a mess.” He shook his head.

“Wait. So he– he was beaten and– and nobody reported it?” Sam asked in confusion.

“You kept your mouth shut, unless you wanted to die from the same heart attack, y’know?” Randall chuckled; the gravelly sound almost sending a chill down your spine. 

‘This guy could easily play Hannibal Lector,’ you thought.

“Randall, exactly how much blood was there?”

*** When working time was over, the prisoners had an hour in the yard before dinner and returning to their cells. You watched from the far corner of the fence while he played poker with every man who was dumb enough to try him for cigarettes. You folded your arms across your chest and watched with amusement when Sam came up to him and began bickering with him about something.

Dean then stood and yelled, “Hey, fellas! Who's ready to deal?”

He played several more rounds of poker, and you did your best to pry your eyes away from him so as to not arouse suspicions of any kind. However, that proved to be the least of your worries.

The guard from earlier whose balls you’d kicked in came up beside you and nonchalantly leaned against the gate. “You’re playing hard to get. It’s cute. I like it,” he said.

“Leave me alone, please,” you replied coolly. You were ready to bash his head in.

“Or what?” he challenged, still facing forward. “I think you owe me an apology for earlier. I’ll have a real treat for you tonight when we get off work.”

You jerked your head toward him. “You try anything, and I swear to god I will gut you.”

“Easy there, princess. It’d do you well to get in good with me. I’ll be able to protect you from them.” The guard nodded out to the inmates who would turn their heads every once in a while in your direction.

“Not interested,” you said simply. “Besides, I think I need more protection from you than from them.”

You could feel his gaze burning into the side of your head. “Maybe so. Maybe if you don’t give me what I want, I’ll take it out on your little inmate friend over there.” He nodded toward Dean who was triumphantly fistpumping after winning another hand of poker. 

You looked back at him, worry swimming in your eyes.

“That’s right, I noticed how you keep looking at him. You’re not very subtle, I hope you know. And he’s definitely not,” the guard said. “So, if you wanna keep him alive, you scratch my back, and I’ll scratch yours. I’ll see you tonight.”

You stared at the ground ahead of you in fear and tried to think your way out of your situation. All that played over in your mind was the sickening feeling of his body against yours in that cinderblock corridor outside of solitary confinement. Bile rose in your throat, and the only thing snapping you out of your trance was the whistle indicating the end of rec time.

You went through the motions of your “job” by escorting the prisoners from the yard into the cafeteria for dinner. Your head was not at all in the moment or in the case, and fear kept your adrenaline moving for the next several minutes. It wasn’t until Dean got in another fight and nearly got himself killed that your adrenaline surged for a different reason.

“If we'd waited any longer, you'd be dead,” Deacon told Dean.

“You waited long enough,” Dean huffed, trying to catch his breath.

Deacon shoved his baton into Dean’s stomach, and you nearly lunged at him for doing so. He grabbed the back of Dean’s head and told him, “Do yourself a favor. Don't. Talk.” The warden looked up at you. “Take them both up to the infirmary.”

You and the guard who’d been harassing you did so. Dean noticed how off you were, but did his best not to convey what he knew. When you got both Tiny and Dean into cells, you had no desire to leave with the guard; afraid of what would happen to you.

You were almost angry at yourself. You were (Y/N) (Y/L/N). You’d fought monsters, ghosts, and demons, and you were losing your mind over a guy that would shit his pants if he knew what you’d seen. However, the fact that he was still a very real threat drowned out those thoughts.

***

The man Dean had fought had apparently died in the infirmary; no doubt by the hands of the thing you were hunting. While Dean was fighting said man, Sam snuck to the room Moody had been murdered in and burnt the rest of the blood away, so you knew it couldn’t be him. All you could do was wait for the boys to talk to the other prisoners to get the name of your true target.

Later that night, you just wanted to make it back to the Impala when you got off your shift. You even waited a while after everyone else on your shift had left to make your way out of the prison. You hoped the guard whose name you didn’t even know wouldn’t make good on his threats. However, your stomach dropped when you saw him leaning against Dean’s car.

You stopped several feet from him.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” he told you.

“How the fuck do you know what car I drive?” you questioned.

“It’s not hard. I mean, you’re the only ‘67 Chevy in the parking lot. Nice ride, by the way,” he said.

“Fuck you.”

In an instant, he was running toward you. You turned and sprinted away, only to be knocked to the ground by the man. He roughly pulled your hair back, yanking your head back against him. “Remember what I fucking told you,” he growled against your ear. “Are you gonna start playing nice?”

***

Everything felt wrong. No matter how many showers you took, you couldn’t scrub the feeling off your skin. Back in your motel room, you laid on your side wrapped in an oversized shirt. You stared at the wall in the dark, completely numb. You hadn’t even been able to cry since it happened.

You couldn’t think. You couldn’t move. For hours, you laid there. You wouldn’t allow sleep to hold you close enough to darken the world around you. 

One thing you kept thinking was ‘I’ll never be the same again.’ The words played on a loop over and over in your mind. They danced around in your head for hours, taunting you. 

You wanted to climb out of your skin. Start the day over. You wished you’d fought back. Wished someone had been sound to stop him. The scrapes on your left wrist and arm were undoubtedly going to bruise in the morning, and your uniform wouldn’t exactly hide them. You knew Dean and Sam would ask questions, and the former would rip the guy’s head off. You didn’t even know that guard’s name. Everything just felt so wrong. 

But you wouldn’t let this stop you from doing your job. You wouldn’t let those boys brave that place alone with no word from you. And so, despite everything in your body telling you not to, you went back to the prison the next day.

***

You could tell Deacon knew something was wrong, but he didn’t press you further. The other prison guards didn’t seem to notice a difference in you; except, of course, the guard’s posse. They would snicker at you every time you walked past, and you could only imagine what your abuser had said about you. 

Thankfully, you only had to endure this last day of awfulness. Deacon was going to “fire” you right after rec time was over to give you enough time to get the Impala pulled around the back of the jail for the brothers to escape through. Your job was to wait for Sam to come over to you and give you the name of the person you were after and find what cemetery they were at. Then, you were going to get the boys the hell out of dodge. 

You watched the boys in the rec yard talking to Randall, the man Sam had gotten information from while they were cleaning the bathrooms. Then, the younger brother came over to you. 

“Hey,” he said, looking around to see if anyone was paying much attention to him.

“Hi,” you replied.

“Whoa, what happened to your arm?” Sam asked in concern, noticing your very obvious scrapes. 

“Oh, it’s nothing, I—”

“This guy bothering you?” That awful, familiar voice said from behind you. 

Without turning around to face your abuser, you replied, “No. Please, go away.”

Sam glared at the man behind you when he noticed how upset the guard’s mere presence made you. You could tell he knew the guard had done something to you; he was a smart boy. 

“Glockner,” was all Sam said to you before turning away. 

“Surprised you’re able to still walk—”

You immediately turned around to him and punched him square across his jaw. 

“Bitch!” he yelled.

“Fuck you!” you yelled. 

‘Deacon’s firing me anyway,’ you thought. ‘Might as well give him a legitimate reason to.’

You got down on top of the guard and started punching hard. His face was bloodied and bruised, the man barely hanging on to consciousness before you were pulled away, kicking and screaming by two other guards. They dragged you over to Deacon, who promptly made a scene of firing you. He escorted you out to the parking lot where he said the cops would be waiting for you to bring you in for questioning. 

Once the two of you were far enough away, he roughly spun you around to face him. “What the hell was that?!” he questioned. “You know they’re gonna be out for blood now!”

“I know that, Deacon! Maybe if your guards weren’t fucking scumbags, though, I wouldn’t have had to do that!” you yelled back.

“What?” his voice quieted considerably. 

“Nothing,” you said. “Just tell my boys I’ll be back for ‘em tonight.” You turned on your heel and walked away. 

“Hey, kid,” Deacon called after you.

You turned around. 

“Thank you. And… I’m sorry. For whatever happened.”

You nodded and turned back around again.

*** You discovered that “Glockner” was the name of a nurse in the seventies who’d been caught in the crossfire of the inmate uprising that occurred following Moody’s death. She’d been buried at Green Valley Cemetery following the severe cerebral edema the inmates gave her. 

You returned to the detention center under the cover of night and pulled the car around the back of the prison away from the parking lot where the guards were beginning to change shifts. You waited anxiously dressed in civilian clothes again for the boys to come out of the HVAC unit Deacon told you would be attached to the room he would be bringing the boys into following their staged fight. 

“Oh, man, are you a sight for sore eyes,” a familiar voice rumbled. 

Dean and Sam leapt over the fence separating you from them, and you couldn’t help but collapse into Dean’s arms. “Whoa, sweetheart, what’s—”

“No time, guys,” Sam reminded you. “You can reunite later. We gotta go.”

As if on cue, an alarm began to sound through the prison. Immediately, you nodded and broke away from Dean. You headed to the driver’s seat so Sam and Dean could change while you drove. Quickly, you headed to the cemetery Nurse Glockner was buried in. 

***

The brothers caught you up on everything that had been happening to them since you hadn’t been able to talk much over the last week.

“What?!” you exclaimed, following them through the cemetery. “Henriksen’s here?!”

“Yeah, which is exactly why I wanted to get the hell out,” Sam told you. “They were gonna extradite us back to St. Louis or Baltimore or something. Whatever was gonna happen to us, it wasn’t gonna be pretty.

“Jesus,” you responded. “And no doubt, they’re gonna be looking for me soon, too. I beat the fuck out of a guy who knows I drive a ‘67 Impala.”

“What?!” both boys questioned upon reaching the grave of Nurse Glockner.

You nodded solemnly. “Yeah,” you said. 

“I’m gonna need a bit more of a response than ‘yeah,’ sweetheart,” Dean grunted as he began digging.

“Later. Let’s just get this over with, okay?” you said, helping the boys dig faster. 

You could feel both brothers staring at you in concern, but you couldn’t look up at them. 

***

When Glockner had finally been salted and burned, you and the Winchesters returned to the Impala and quickly drove away. 

“You know, I almost wish I could see Henriksen's face,” Dean joked as the Impala’s engine purred.

“Really? 'Cause I'd be happy if I never saw him again,” Sam replied tightly. “I mean, we're not really out of the woods yet, Dean, you know? You thought we were screwed before?”

“Yeah, I know. We got to go deep this time,” Dean responded.

“ ‘Deep,’ Dean? We should go to Yemen,” Sam quipped.

“Ooh, I'm— I'm not sure I'm ready to go that deep.”

You were silent the entirety of the drive over state lines and to a motel in the middle of wooded nowhere. You were silent through the check-in process, and silent when Dean crawled into your bed behind you later that night. He began to kiss down your neck, and you wanted to enjoy the feeling so badly.

“Dean.” Your voice broke as you whispered his name.

Immediately, Dean took his face away from your neck. “What?” he asked, hearing how upset you were. “What is it?” 

“I, um—” you started, unable to turn to face him. “I can’t.”

“Why?” he asked softly.

“The guard—” you said. “—from the rec yard. He, um.”

Dean lightly turned you to face him. “(Y/N), what’d he do?” His voice had darkened considerably at the thought of someone hurting you. 

“He, uh—” your breath shuddered, and you were unable to meet his gaze. “He raped me.”

You swear all of the oxygen looked like it’d been punched out of Dean, his face hardening in the darkness. “Oh, I’ll kill him—”

“Dean, don’t, okay? It’s not gonna—” you protested, reaching up to grab his face to make him look at you. “It’s not gonna change anything.”

“I know, but—”

“Dean, I thought beating him to a bloody pulp was gonna make me feel better. It didn’t. I just feel more disgusting. Like, why didn’t I do that when it was all happening?” You began to cry. “I just— I’m trying to forget it ever happened. And I know I won’t. And it’s awful. And I just— I need time,” you explained.

Silence settled over the two of you for a moment.

“Do you want me to leave?” Dean asked softly.

“I— I don’t know. I just—” You took a deep breath. “I don’t really know how I feel about touching right now. Can you just lay with me?”

He nodded and climbed into bed beside you, the two of you staring up at the ceiling. Wordlessly, you slipped your hand under the covers and reached for his hand, lacing his fingers with yours and squeezing tightly. 

Your world was turning completely upside down. Your mind wouldn’t slow down, and you didn’t sleep much at all that night. However, you knew that whatever happened to you, Dean was there to keep you grounded. 

Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @star-yawnznn @real-sharena-h @fandomloverrr @metalmonki @onlyangel-444 @yu-winchester @benniwiththefanni @daisychaingirl @immagods @missmieux @yoongi-holland @littledebbieinabigworld

[tldix]

Do i wanna know?

summary: fleeing to college after catching your highschool sweetheart cheating, you find yourself right back in your home town 4 years later. your degree almost complete & your sanity slowly slipping, you find solace in the one place you know you shouldn’t. your dads best friend. Dean Winchester.

word count: idk something embarrassingly long probably🫣

warnings : mature 18+, dbf, AU, yearning AF, spn content, grumpy/sunshine ish?? idk (im trying to include most of the main characters from spn, again AU)

a/n: this is my 2nd ever fic so pls be nice 😔 (& lmk your thoughts, any ideas you may want added) i have every intention of making this a series, if you wanna be added to my tag list just comment 🫶🏼 with alllll this being said i hope you enjoy 🥲

The airport was alive with chaos—families reuniting, announcements echoing overhead, and the constant shuffle of luggage wheels against tiled floors. you adjusted the strap of your duffel bag & guitar case as you took a steadying breath as you followed the crowd toward baggage claim.

It had been months since you last came home, and even longer since you had really felt at home. College had consumed you, with its never-ending stream of exams, late-night study sessions, and endless cups of cheap coffee. Now, with your degree in psychology just a semester away, the weight of expectations pressed heavier on your shoulders.

you tugged her phone from your pocket and skimmed the last text from your dad.

| see you soon kid. we can stop at Bobby’s diner on the way home. i know he’d be over the moon to see you, bet you’re sick of all that tofu & books. don’t forget your still my daughter- not some Freud-loving brainiac”

you stifle a giggle as you head towards the parking lot, eyes skimming for the old green dodge your dad refuses to part with. you let your thoughts drift back to a time before you left for college. when you were waitressing at Bobby’s diner, when you were still with that jackass Colter. when the world felt as if it was falling apart. you quickly shake the thoughts from your head, moving your feet along the pavement out the double doors. your eyes fall on your dads truck, he jumps out with a 9 mile smile as he runs towards you.

“dad! oh my gosh i’ve missed you”

your dad picks you up, wrapping you in one of his signature bear hugs. you melted into his embrace, breathing in the scent of motor oil and aftershave.

“sticks, Look who’s back from the land of overpriced coffee and vegan muffins!”

“Dad, not everyone in college eats vegan muffins.” you laughed.

as your dad grabs your bags, he bombards you with questions. “how was school?” “didn’t meet another jackass like that one boy did you?” “i’m so glad you’re home now sticks, i was real tired of eating take out”

finally. this is what you were searching for. the peace feeling only your dad can seem to give you. the home feeling. you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the warm smile trying to seep through the wedges in your teeth. you glance out the window, seeing all the familiar streets & shops. the Macleod bakery, Harvelles road house, the dentist your dad would fight tooth & nail to get you into. how was Garth now? you found yourself wondering. it’s been a long time since you were home, you couldn’t be happier. for the first time in years you felt as if you had absolutely no worries. none at all, well until your dad said

“i planned you a welcome home party, more like a bbq but dean was more than happy to let us use his grill. it’s saturday if that works for you sweetheart?”

Dean Winchester had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember, like an unofficial uncle who never missed a BBQ or a birthday. He and your dad, J.P., had been best friends since their teens, inseparable through thick and thin. Dean was brash, charming, and had a knack for pushing your buttons in the way only he could. you hadn’t seen him since Christmas, but the memory of his teasing smirk lingered in your mind.

“sweetheart? is that okay?”

you fumble over your words, trying to push them out & making them seem as nonchalant as possible.

“yeah uh that’s fine dad. can’t wait”

you glance up to see your dad pulling into his usual parking spot outside Bobby’s diner. Bobby was a good man, your dad’s parents weren’t around when you were born so Bobby was quick to claim you as his own granddaughter. blood or not, youre family. as you open the creaky door of your dads old truck, you find every peace of worry gone again. you practically skip to the door, tearing it open as you glance around. ‘that old man really doesn’t change shit’ you thought to yourself.

“sticks? is that really you?”

you thought you were fine, you really convinced yourself until you heard that deep baritone voice. now you felt the ache of tears pressing against your eyes. you whip your head around, eyes meeting the one & only Bobby Singer. the whole diners stopped eating & talking. honing in on the grumpy old man facade slipping from Bobby’s face. you find yourself jogging over to him, he drops the tray to the floor as he quickly envelopes you into a hug.

“Pops! it’s so good to see you”

your voice is muffled from the hold Bobby has on you, his own tears falling down his face into his flannel to mix with yours. you glance up meeting his eyes as he says

“damnit girl, i can’t believe you’re here. how was school? you back for good?”

you pull yourself away hesitantly

“i’m back for good pops. finishing out my last semester here, was hoping you still had that waitressing position open”

your eyebrows shoot up hopefully as a small smirk falls on your face, Bobby wraps his arm around your shoulder as he chuckles

“for you? of course.”

Bobby’s eyes finally meet your fathers, he pulls Jp into a tight hug

“hell boy why didn’t you tell me she was coming home. i’d have-“

jp chuckles as he cuts bobby off

“listen old man, you got enough going on. plus i figured a surprise would do you some good. especially a sticks shaped surprise”

hours passed as you sat & caught up with Bobby, his eyes never leaving yours. almost like he couldn’t believe you were really here. you talked about school, the waitressing job you had in California (but making sure to let Bobby know no place could compare to his). as you ate a smile never left your face, Jp & Bobby telling you stories about the 4 years you were gone. youre laughing, you’re crying. you didn’t know you could feel so many emotions just by coming home. you’re about to leave when Bobby pulls you aside. hugging you as he tells you

“sticks now listen. i know you don’t wanna hear what i’m bout to say but i also know if you hear it from anyone else you’ll lose it. Col-“

you pull away, locking eyes with Bobby

“pops please don’t-“

“wait just a second lemme finish. Colters getting married. got a baby on the way”

you felt the ground beneath your crumble. no, no, no. that couldn’t be happening. your highschool sweetheart. your first kiss, your first- well everything. sure he was mean, a tiny bit abusive but he was yours. or so you thought.

“what do you mean pops? he- he can’t be. there’s no way”

you stumble back but before you fall, bobby’s arms are around you.

“i know kiddo. i know. but hey, maybe it’s better this way huh?”

his hands are wiping the tears you didn’t realize were falling. you had so many questions, did he really love me? how could he move on? why did he never reach out? well maybe it’s because he was too busy out getting some skank pregnant. wait no you can’t think like that, she didn’t do anything to you. it wasn’t like this mystery woman was holding your heart in your hands, no that was that stupid prick Colter.

“who?”

“who what sticks?”

bobby’s eyes look too worrisome. you hate when he gives you those eyes.

“who is he marrying”

bobby sighs, suddenly finding the sticky old floorboards far more interesting than the expression that’s gunna cross your face.

“jo.”

oh that hurt, jo. jo harvelle. your childhood bestfriend. bobby’s grip tightened on you, holding you steady as you go through the waves crashing through you. anger. hurt. betrayal. your dad approaches, seeing the light leave your eyes. he glances at Bobby, sharing a knowing look with him. he wraps his arm around, letting you bid your farewells as he lead you to the truck. as he opened the door for you, you slung yourself into the seat.

“sticks i- i’m sorry”

you wipe the rest of the tears from your face, nodding as you glance around the truck. your eyes get stuck on the polaroid of you & jo. a picture you used to cherish so deeply, but now you’d rather see it cast into the pits of hell. your dad catches what you’re eyes are lingering on as he closes your door. he makes his way around to his side, quickly grabbing the polaroid & stashing it away. he knew when you got told the news things would be different, your pain would be different. Colter was one thing, your highschool sweetheart who never lived up to the ‘sweetheart’ part. the man who made you shed more tears than you ever should’ve, the man who left you alone wondering where he was most nights when he was shacking it up at Harvelles bar, who wouldn’t answer his phone. your dad knew all this, he was the one you called when you couldn’t take it anymore. he was the one who came & picked you up from Colters parents house the night you ended things. the night you found out he cheated. 2 weeks before you left for college. your dad also knew that after you left, there wasn’t a thing he could say or do to make you come back. Jo on the other hand, she was your best friend. practically your sister. there wasn’t a weekend where Jo wasn’t at his house, in his pool, watching you & him work on cars & when you got older the one who helped you sneak those cars out. the one you called when Colter wasn’t treating you right. the one who called you when she knew Colter was at her moms bar. it felt unreal to your father, he couldn’t imagine how you felt.

The hum of tires on asphalt filled the silence as you pulled into the driveway of your childhood home. The house looked the same—warm porch lights glowing, the familiar sight of your first car parked sideways on the side of the house. the garage open, showing the new muscle car your dad must be going nuts over. Jp killed the engine and exhaled deeply. After four years away at college, home felt both comforting and alien.

Inside, you found seemingly nothing changed. the recliner was still the same, the stacks of car manuals everywhere, the coffee cup sized rim indentions on your dads side table, the only different thing was a picture you & your dad took on the 4th of july hanging above the tv stand. you’re standing in a pair of old jean shorts, your red bikini top sneaking out the side of your old worn white t-shirt covered in motor oil. your dad has his signature blue dodgers cap on, his mechanic uniform still clinging to him. laughing right back with you as he holds his belly. Sam took the picture & you were so thankful he did. you carried yourself up to your childhood bedroom, the only thing that changed was the size of the bed. instead of the measly little twin you now were the proud owner of a queen. the sage green comforter looked like a cloud, a dream even.

you dig out a change of clothes, your toiletries & make your way to your bathroom. the peace sign poster you picked out with Jo staring menacingly at you through the reflection. you hesitate for a second before deciding to rip it down. you crumble it up, throwing it in the trash can as you run a hand through your hair. stupid. that’s how you felt. why did you think you’d come back & everything would be waiting for you like the day you left? your eyes longed for tears to fall, you glance up catching yourself in the reflection before you shake your shoulders & sigh. you rip the airport clothes off, turning on a hot shower as you slip in. you hum the tune of an AC/DC song as you lather the soap in your hands & through your hair. you’re back, regardless of how anyone else feels. your got your job back at Bobby’s, you’re finishing your degree this year. everything’s gunna work out. everything’s gunna be fine, but if that was the truth why did you feel as if something was missing?

you get out of the shower, quickly drying off as you throw on a old tank top & a pair of sweats. you towel dry your hair, glancing over to the fogged up mirror as you pull a brush through it. you throw your dirty clothes in your laundry basket as you slide on your slippers. you make your way back to your room, settling down on the bed as you open up your bag.

your dads footsteps tear you from your thoughts, you glance up as he’s carrying a beer. you take it thankfully as he settles beside you on the bed, glancing over at your guitar case.

“you still play sticks?”

you nod, as you take a swig of your beer

“i do. ain’t played as much as id like too with how busy things have been though”

your dad takes a swig of his own beer, he smiles as he says

“well after dinner i want you to play me something”

you smile & nod, you loved playing for your dad. he’s who taught you really, who gave you the guitar you lug around everywhere. you run your fingers absentmindedly across the label of the beer as you think back to the time he gave you the guitar. it was your 11th birthday, the smile he beamed down at you was something you’d never allow yourself to forget. that, that was probably your happiest memory. your dads voice interrupts your thoughts as he says

“well i’ll be out in the garage. we’ll have some company for dinner since i gotta work from home today. you need me you come find me okay sugar?”

you smile to yourself, boy was it great to have someone care so much for you. you were used to just being ignored, not making but 1 singular friend in your years of college. Ashley. she was like a girl you’d never met before, ambitious, smart, beautiful, funny. the sarcasm that girl carried was something unreal. your dad already loved her after meeting her the one singular time he flew out to visit. you plop down on your bed, pulling your phone out as you quickly press ashley’s number. she picks up after the 3rd sing yelling through the phone

“sticks! come back oh god i’ll never make it without you”

sticks? since when did ashley also call you that? what is with everyone wanting this nickname to stick? you roll your eyes at your unintentional pun

“well hello there ash i miss you too” you giggle into the phone

“but no seriously how is it? feel better being at home?”

you bite back the endless trials of emotions you went through today, choosing not to unload the disaster your life’s become in a measly 24 hours. you find yourself picking at the thread of your sweats as you offer small talk, informing her you got your job back at the diner until you graduate. her swearing she’s flying out the second the gets the chance. you giggle & talk as you glance at the clock, you realized you completely lost track of time & you were sure dinner was ready. you hang up, promising you’ll call her after your first day as you make your way downstairs, the scent of ordered in pizza catches your nose as you giggle to yourself. as your feet touch the bottom step your dad turns to you

“well there she is, cmon sticks say hello”

you walk around the doorframe as your heart catches in your throat. Dean. Winchester.

“hey Freud” he greeted, his voice low drawl “long time no see”

“Freud, really?” you arched any eyebrow, meeting his gaze. his green eyes sparkled with mischief, & that smirk — God that smirk — was firmly in place.

“Freud, Jung, whoever you kids are into these days” dean shot back, standing from his place on the couch.

your dad chuckles

“don’t mind him, he’s just mad he’s too old to understand what you’re studying”

you laugh as you shake your head

dean cuts in as he says

“oh i understand it just fine” he said as he walks up to you “it’s all about mommy issues, right?”

you snorted

“i’m studying psychology, not you dean”

your dad burst out laughing, deans smirk faltering for a moment. he gave you an exaggerated bow as he says “Touchè”

as your dad drags dean over to the table you let yourself study his features, he looked the same — rough around the edges but effortlessly put together. his hands calloused & stained in motor oil. the veins prominent as he grabs the pizza box, smiling at something your father said. you quickly averted your gaze, feeling an unwelcomed heat creep up your neck.

“so sticks you nervous bout being back?”

your dad asks

you hesitated unsure of how to answer especially after the whirlwind of emotions you had to overcome today.

“a little. it’s been awhile, you know? i’m used to being busy all the time. having my job back at Pops surely will help though”

“well you’re home now.” your dad said, his voice warm. “relax, eat something other than cafeteria food & maybe give some of your old man here some of that brainiac advice” he beams

“careful” dean adds smirking, “you might open a can of worms with that one if you ain’t careful ‘old man’ “

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk that fell on your face. it felt good to be back, banter, baggage & all.

—————————————

by the time you made it to the table you were trying to decide if you could just crawl up to your room or out the window, on the latter they would definitely know something was up. i mean your dad knew, he seen it first hand all day. but dean? no. he could not & would not see you crumble over something like that. it was hard enough to try to keep the actual relationship issues from dean when it happened, he definitely didn’t need the after effects.

you decided what’s the worst that could happen, you’re in your own home. with your father, & really you were just nervous. you did not expect to see dean today, not any day before saturday really. that’s why you find yourself turning to your dad & joking

“i’m surprised the houses still stands after how long i was gone”

“barely sticks” jp jokes as he grumbles “dean here only fixed the roof last week, don’t lean on the railing. it’s a death trap”

“hey that’s quality work” dean protests before taking a bite of his pizza

“quality work” you echoed, eyeing him. “remind me not to hire you when i get my own place.”

dean grins, leaning back in his chair as he wipes the pizza sauce from his lip

“don’t worry. i charge extra for smartasses”

your dad throws him a joking glare as he gets up to fetch some beers, leaving you both alone for the first moment since youve been home. you shift in your seat as you take a bite of your pizza.

“it’s good to see you sticks” dean said, his tone softer now as he catches your eye

you look up, startled by the sincerity in his voice. a small smile fights it way to your lips as you say “you too dean”

for a fleeting moment, you felt as if something electric, & impossible to ignore flashed between you. as quick as the moment appeared it dissolved when your dad breached the door with a huge grin

“beers here”

————————-

[castiwls]

one day - d.w

Paring; dean x reader

Requested; anon

Synopsis;Dean winchester and you had always been close. Destined to fall in love almost, yet nothing good can last forever.(kinda based on the book/series 'one day')

Warnings; mentions of death

Notes;complete truth ive never seen or read the book so I reseaeched it as well as I could. This genuinely made me tear up writing but I hope you enjoy :)

Masterlist

[2005]

“Here.” Dean nudged your shoulder with him before passing you a beer. You smiled mumbling a small thanks before looking back to the horizon in front of you. The sun had just started to set casting the field in an almost golden glow as you both sat quietly.

His leg pressed against yours as he sat down, your backs against the side of his car. A long breath left his lips as he leaned his head against the car for a moment his eyes moved from the sky to watch you as you slowly sipped on the drink, a small smile playing on your lips.

‘When did you say you were leaving again?” You turned your head tensing slightly when you realised how close he was now. A small blush grew on your cheeks as your breath seemed to catch for a moment before you managed to compose yourself. 

If Dean was affected by the sudden proximity he didn’t show it. He hummed quietly pursing his lips in thought for a moment. “Monday. Dad said to meet him in Jericho.” You nodded a small pit of disappointment growing in your stomach. Monday was only three days away.

“Monday.” You repeated taking another sip of your drink. Dean’s arm curled around your shoulder shifting you slightly closer. “I wish you’d come round more.” You sighed reaching down to intertwine your fingers with his. “I miss you.” 

Dean’s eyes trailed down to where you’d intertwined your hands and he gently squeezed your hand. “You could come with me.” His eyes lit up slightly at the idea. 

You sighed. “Dean we both know that's not possible.” He seemed to deflate slightly before blowing out a breath. “I know, I know.” He shook his head, a small chuckle leaving his lips. “Plus, I think Bobby would actually kill me.” 

A laugh of your own espaced your lips. “That’s very likely.” 

Dean couldn’t help the smile which spread across his face again as he watched you laugh beside him. The sound alone left his heart fluttering, he’d always prided himself on his ability to make you smile no matter the situation.

He’d quickly learnt that one of his favourite things was seeing you happy and he’d do anything to make sure that happened. After a moment you fell quiet, your head resting on his shoulder as he squeezed you closer. 

He leaned down pressing his lips to your head for a long moment before settling back against the car. 

Truthfully a large part of him was dreading your impending goodbye. Hunting was taking up more and more of his time and in turn, he found himself with less and less free time and in turn less time to see you. 

The selfish part of him wanted to take you with him. Keep you by his side at all times but he knew you didn’t want that. You’d spent endless hours as kids and teenagers talking about your future plans and hunting was simply something you weren’t interested in.

Sure, you had the training and you knew more than enough to take on the job but it had never called to you in the way it seemed to Dean. 

The sun continued to set casting the world into greyscale as you both continued to sit there, mindlessly talking about anything and everything. 

A small yawn escaped your lips as you placed the bottle down beside you. Dean’s hand squeezed your shoulder. “Ready to head back?” He stretched his free arm over his head before moving to stand.

He held out a hand to you, which you quickly grasped. You stumbled slightly as you stood placing a hand on his chest to steady yourself. Dean grinned. “One drink and you're already falling over.”

You shook your head swatting at his arm. “Shut up.”

He laughed wrapping an arm around your shoulder. “Someone can’t handle her drink.” He teased. “Dean!” You scolded. “I can handle my drink just fine thank you very much.” You pulled back from his side after a moment moving to stand in front of him. 

You studied his face for a moment, memorising every inch. “When will you be back?” He sighed pushing his hands into his pockets. “Soon. I promise.” 

He took a small step forward. “I’ll phone, every night alright.” He pulled a hand from his pocket reaching up to gently brush your jaw. “Be careful. Please.” You hated him hunting. You’d find yourself spending most of your days in an anxious haze waiting with bated breath to hear his voice. To know that he was alive.

He brushed his thumb over your cheek. “I always am.” He leaned down pressing his lips to your head. “You're not getting rid of me that easily.”

—

“You sure you can’t stay just one more day?”

Dean laughed quietly shaking his head. “Afraid not.” He wrapped an arm around your waist, sighing gently. “Duty calls.”

Your arms wrapped around his neck, one of your hands running through the hair at the nape of his neck. His thumb rubbed small circles on your hip as he watched you, his heart picking up slightly as your fingers skimmed the back of his neck.

“I’ll call you later okay.” He pulled you closer resting his chin on your head. You closed your eyes relaxing into his hold. “Okay.” 

You stayed like that for a while before eventually pulling back. Mumbling a soft ‘bye’ he dropped his hands from your waist.

You watched from your spot as the Impala disappeared around the corner. You stood for a moment longer before turning and walking back into the house, mentally praying to whatever was up there that he’d come back safe.

[2010]

The click of the motel door pulled your attention from the article you’d been reading. Dean smiled holding up a take-out bag before walking over and placing it down on the table. He moved behind you placing a hand on the table. “Find anything?”

“Nope.” You sighed turning to face him. He let out a sigh of his own before reaching over to shut the laptop. “Hey.” You protested reaching over to reopen it, though Dean was faster. He pushed the laptop across the table. “You’ve been at it all day, it's late.” 

You pursed your lips before nodding. “Okay. I’m done.” His grin brightened pressing his lips to yours for a moment. The action still left you breathless even after months. You’d both danced around each other for so long that you weren’t entirely sure when you crossed the line from best friends to something more.

For the longest time you’d tried to push your feelings down. Tried to ignore the way your heart seemed to pick up whenever he was in the room as you were afraid of getting hurt. Your anxiety over him leaving was bad enough when he was simply your friend you couldn’t imagine the mess you would have been should you have been something more.

But over the last year, since his death and later resurrection, you’d found yourself joining him and Sam more and more. At first, you’d simply claimed you were catching up for lost time but over time you’d found yourself enjoying it. 

You’d never seen the appeal of the fast-paced life until now.

It also finally allowed your relationship with Dean to develop and move away from the cycle you’d both been stuck in. 

You hummed quietly as he pulled back. “C’mon, it’s gonna get cold.”

—

The smell of coffee drifted throughout the house as you slowly made your way downstairs. Music played softly from the kitchen as you passed through the small lounge, a tired smile growing on your lips as you leaned against the archway.

As if sensing your presence Dean turned, a grin on his face. “Mornin’ sweetheart.” You mumbled your own greeting before he turned back to the stove. Crossing the room you wrapped your arms around his waist sighing softly.

“You're up early.” Your check rested against his chest as your eyes glanced to the clock in the kitchen. 09:04 am. Dean hummed. “Couldn’t sleep.” 

You frowned slightly pulling back. “I noticed.” You moved to stand beside him. “You know you can talk to me right.” You placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to handle this alone.”

Dean stayed quiet, his grip on the pan tightening slightly. “I know.” He murmured.

The apocalypse hadn’t been easy on any of you. Dean especially. Losing Sam shook you all hard, harder than you’d imagined. It had gotten easier but he still had his moments. You both did.

You watched him for a moment longer mentally sighing. You hated when he’d close up like this. 

Leaning up on your toes you pressed a kiss to his cheek before pulling back. “I’ll get the plates.”

Dean nodded, a small smile pulling at his lips as you brushed a hand over his arm. He watched you from the corner of his eye, the feeling of grief which had consumed him since the night before seeming to melt away just slightly as he watched you.

The world had always seemed that much brighter whenever you were around, he supposed that was why he’d spent years begging you to come with him. Even now when his whole world crumbled around him the one constant he had left was you and you’d stayed.

He’d never imagined being able to live a normal life, it simply wasn't something that he’d seen as possible. Yet now he had that, he couldn’t imagine doing it with anyone else.

Leaning down he flicked the heat off turning to watch as you moved around the small kitchen. You turned, smiling as you caught his eye. “Done?”

“Mhm.” He nodded, opening his arms as you approached him. You settled against his chest, your arms wrapping around his neck as he went to your waist. You stayed like that for a moment before you pulled back slightly looking up at him.

His eyes seemed to sparkle almost in the morning light as he stared fondly down at you. “You know I love you right.” He pressed his lips against yours for a moment. “I know.” You whispered leaning your forehead against his.

This was his heaven.

[2015]

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been in a hospital, but wandering the halls now he remembered why he disliked them. The white walls seemed too bright on his tired eyes as he made what must have been his fifth trip down to the coffee machine that day alone.

He’d long since stopped caring about how long it had been since he’d first stepped foot inside the building. Sam had mumbled something about him needing to go and get some sleep - something about how he was only going to make himself ill but he couldn’t find it in him to care.

The hunt had gone bad. Really bad. 

None of you had noticed the fifth vamp. None of you had noticed the way it had managed to get behind you until it was too late. Dean kept replaying the moment over and over in his head, every time he closed his eyes all he could see was the moment you hit the floor. The way your body had gone limp in his arms.

The memory left bile rising in his throat as he pushed a random button on the machine. 

He really needed a drink.

The doctors had told them you were stable. You’d been in surgery for hours and even that had been touch and go. 

There had been blood - so much blood.

Shaking slightly he grabbed the cup before setting off back to the lifeless room which had become his home over the last few days. 

The monitors beeping had ingrained themselves in his brain and it seemed no matter where he was all he could hear was the sounds of the machines currently keeping you alive.

Shouldering the door open he paused for a moment. If he really thought about it he could just trick himself into thinking you were asleep and that you weren’t clinging to life by a thread.

Sitting down in the chair beside your bed he let out a shaky breath, bringing the cup to his lips he took a long sip. The liquid burned as he swallowed.

Placing the cup down he reached over to grasp your hand in his. The skin was cooler than normal as he rubbed his thumb over your knuckles. “You gotta wake up Sweetheart.” 

His eyes slowly moved from your hand to your face as he leaned closer. 

For the first time in a while, he felt truly lost. Normally you’d be the one to comfort him in these situations. When his dad died you’d been there and the countless times he’d lost Sam it was always you who’d be standing not far away, waiting to pick up the pieces and mend what was broken.

Yet now you weren’t there. 

Drawing in a breath he felt a tear fall from his eyes. He quickly wiped it away before brushing a hand over your head. “I can’t do this alone.”

His voice was quiet as he spoke. This wasn't supposed to happen. You were supposed to get old, and maybe have a few kids (hopefully with him). Hell, you were supposed to get married - something you’d always talked to him about.

But now all that seemed like a distant fantasy. Something which a few days ago had been so in reach was now nothing more than a distant fantasy. Something which the realistic part of him knew would never happen.

He fell quiet after a moment, his eyes glued to your face as he pulled every ounce of strength he had not to break down then and there. 

His free hand slipped down into his pocket. His fingers grasped the small box before pulling it out. Dean stared at it for a moment, fresh tears gathering in his eyes as he flicked the box open.

The ring glistened under the white light. He started at it for a moment longer before snapping the box shut. 

Standing from the chair he ran a hand through his hair as he slowly paced the room. The beeping continued quietly in the background until suddenly the room fell quiet.

It must have been less than a second yet he still paused, a frown growing on his lips before the beeping returned - this time louder and more instant.

Within a minute the room was swarmed. Doctors and nurses all talking over each other as he stood there, frozen. He barely registered someone taking his arm and pulling him from the room in his daze.

No. No. No.

His body refused to move from where the nurse had left him quickly telling him to stay there. The world almost seemed to slow down as he watched on from his spot. 

“Dean.” Sam’s voice broke him from the daze. He sounded breathless as he planted a hand on his brother's shoulder, a pained look on his face. “Sit.” He pushed his brother into a chair before falling into the one beside him. 

He placed his head in his hands.

After what seemed like an eternity a doctor - one Dean recognised - emerged. His face is natural as he came to stand before them both. Sam practically shot out of his seat as the doctor sent Dean a glance.

He whispered something before pulling Sam a few feet away. Ignoring them both he stood slowly walking towards the doorway. The room was mostly empty now except for a nurse who paused upon hearing his footsteps.

She sent him a sympathetic look before gently brushing past him. Just as he went to step into the room a hand on his shoulder stopped him. “Dean.” Sam’s voice shook slightly as he turned to face his brother. 

The doctor stood beside him, a solemn look now on his face. “She’s okay” Dean looked between the two. His fist clenched at the silence. “She’s okay.” He was more instant this time.

The doctor sighed, swallowing thickly. “I’m afraid not. She lost too much blood. We did what-”

“She’s fine.” Dean cut him off stepping closer. His eyes hardened as a burst of anger seemed to bubble over. Sam quickly stepped between the two as Dean’s voice began to rise in volume. 

“She’s fine. You said she would be fine.”

His hands shook slightly as he felt his brother push him back until he hit a wall. The words continued to fall from his lips, each more frantic than the one before. “I’m so sorry.” The man said before turning and walking away.

Dean watched before turning back to his brother. Sam swallowed, his eyes glassy as he stepped back. His eyes darted over to the room door before looking back to Dean. 

“You need to say goodbye.”

At that moment the dam inside him snapped. The anger faded to pure despair as he ran a hand through his hair. “I can’t. I can’t. She’s not…” He shook his head. The world left the bile climbing back up his throat.

“Dean.” Sam sighed watching as his brother moved back to the room doorway. “I’ll give you a minute.”

Dean barely glanced back before stepping into the room and shutting the door behind him.

You looked peaceful.

Steeling himself he moved back over to his seat. Taking your hand in his he sat for a moment. “I’m so sorry.” He whispered. He slipped out of the chair, the floor hard beneath his knees as he shuffled closer.

Reaching into his pocket he pulled out the box again carefully opening it before pulling the ring out. 

He didn’t bother to stop the tears which threatened to fall as he gently took your hand in his, slipping the ring onto your finger before placing your hand back down on the bed. 

Leaning up he placed his lips to your cheek. 

“I love you.” His lips brushed your cheek gently. “I’ll never stop loving you.” 

Leaning his head on the bed he finally broke down.

Intertwining your fingers, he felt the cool press of the ring against his skin as his whole world finally crumbled down.

[marvelfanfn2187a113]

Running with You

Kevin Tran x Winchester sister!reader, Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: just a little series of snippets of your relationship with Kevin (and Sam and Dean…it was mostly supposed to be about Kevin, but those stupid brothers wormed their way into more scenes than I thought they would)

Meeting a prophet for the first time didn’t go exactly as you’d thought it would. First of all, he was your age. Second, he was a total nerd. And third…

He was kind of cute.

The two of you hit it off almost immediately. But of course he had a girlfriend, so you had to back off—but Kevin still made a great friend.

He was incredibly panicked to find out he was a prophet, and your idiot big brothers weren’t very good at calming or comforting, so you took over that role. Ever since then, Kevin and you became fast friends.

You were there for him when his life fell apart. He was there for you when you were scared for Sam—just out of hell and very traumatized. You comforted him when Crowley killed his girlfriend, and…

And you were both there for each other when Dean went to purgatory, and Sam was too traumatized to keep going.

Sam walked away from the leviathan fight with no will to fight…really, no will to live. But when Crowley took Kevin, you couldn’t just let him go.

You were the one who helped Kevin escape, and you were the one who was there with him on the run for a whole year…

…

“C’mon Kevin, let me in! That was the secret knock!”

“But you didn’t do the secret password!” Kevin’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door. You groaned.

“Kevin, I did the password.”

“That was the old one.”

“You changed it again,” you groaned. “Kev, I can’t keep up with the password if you change it every week. Just let me in.”

“Fine,” Kevin grumbled, and you heard lock after lock begin to unlock. “But I’m spraying you with holy water the second the door comes open.”

“When have you ever not?” You teased him. True to his word, your face got blasted from Kevin’s water gun the minute the door creaked open. You wiped the water off your face good-naturedly and stepped inside with your groceries. You liked to tease Kevin about all of his safety precautions, but only because it was better than the alternative; if you couldn’t laugh about how scared the two of you were all the time, you’d just…well, you’d just be scared all the time.

The two of you had spent the past year on the run from Crowley and his black-eyes minions, and there was no such thing as too careful. You’d thought about calling Sam once or twice, just to check in, but you didn’t know how. He’d gotten rid of his usual numbers, and so had you; the two of you were completely cut off. That was by far the hardest part of being on the run. You hoped that Sam was happy—that he’d really gotten away from the life like he’d planned—he deserved it, he really did.

You couldn’t blame him for checking out after Dean…after he died. You couldn’t; because you knew exactly how it felt. After Sam had gone to hell, you hadn’t wanted to hunt either. You’d thrown away all your old phones, and you’d gone to Lisa’s with Dean, and you had just checked out. You knew what Dean was doing late at night with those books and with the computer—he was trying to find a way to save Sam. Once or twice you had even found it in you to join him in his research—but the dead ends just hurt too much, and you couldn’t do it anymore.

So you couldn’t blame Sam for checking out the same way. But that didn’t mean it didn’t still hurt, especially since you hadn’t seen him in almost a year.

You forced yourself to shake off your melancholy as you focused on Kevin.

“How’s Patricia?” You asked. “She do anything crazy while I was gone?”

“Just shook the fridge a couple of times.” Kevin shrugged. “She seems to be in a good mood today.”

“Patricia” was an inside joke between you and Kevin. Ever since you’d found this safehouse, the weirdest things seemed to happen inside—the fridge shook in the middle of the night, food went missing, and even good things like the holy water guns being refilled without either of you touching them. You couldn’t remember who had named Patricia, but it didn’t matter; she was here to stay, and you’d done every test for a ghost or a poltergeist with nothing to show for it.

A harsh knock at the now-locked door behind you broke the lightheartedness in the air. You whipped around, and Kevin instinctually raised the holy water gun.

“Y/N?” You could’ve sworn your heart stopped at the sound of your big brother’s voice.

“Sam?” You reached for the handle, but Kevin grabbed your arm.

“It might not be him,” he argued. “Or he could be possessed.”

“Y/N it’s me!” Sam’s voice came again. “I know you’re here, and I know Kevin’s there too. We tracked you down, we need to talk to you.”

Neither you nor Kevin moved, but your mind was now going a mile a minute. Why would Sam track you down after so long? What did he need? And why did he keep saying “we”? The last question seemed the easiest to ask.

“Who’s we?” You demanded. There was a long silence on the other side of the door.

“Honey, please just let me in. I promise I can explain everything, but—“

“How do I know you’re you?” You challenged. Again, you were met with a king silence.

“Sweetheart—“ your heart stopped at the voice of your oldest brother. “Let us in. It…it’s us.”

You threw Kevin’s hand off your arm even as he argued with you—

“Y/N, no, it’s not them, you don’t know that—“

You completely ignored him, pushing him out of your way and clicking lock after lock until finally, you flung the door open to see the two people you missed most in the world.

The three of you stood there in silence, sizing each other up—Sam and Dean seeing how much you’d changed, and you gaping up at your brothers in disbelief. The silence was broken when Kevin took a half step forward and sprayed both of your brothers with his holy water gun.

“Seriously?” Sam grumbled, but Dean didn’t complain. He still hadn’t taken his eyes off you, and you couldn’t seem to tear your gaze away from him, either.

“Dean?” You whispered, the sound of his name shattering the silence.

“Hey sweetheart,” he greeted, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t hug him fast enough.

…

“So…” Dean glanced between you and Kevin, his features twitching into a suspicious glare. “What have you two been up to?”

You’d gotten the year recap from Sam and Dean, so now it was your turn to give your account.

“Oh, you know, running from Crowley,” you scoffed. You knew that wasn’t all that Dean meant—he was eyeing Kevin strangely, and you knew why.

“And you two are…” you resisted the urge to roll your eyes as Dean searched for a word. “What, just besties now?”

“Actually…” Kevin glanced to you for permission, and you nodded subtly. “We’re kinda going out.”

“Well—“ you shot Kevin a wry smile. “Not out. But we’re dating.”

Kevin responded to your smile with one of his own. It wasn’t really possible to leave your safe haven for non-emergencies, but the two of you spent so much time together that dates weren’t all that necessary. You weren’t sure when exactly your relationship with Kevin moved on from “just friends”, but it probably had something to do with the first time you kissed him…

It was at the first safehouse you’d bunkered down in after escaping from the demons. You were both soaked to the skin—you’d gone on a supply run, and it had started raining; you’d had to stuff the groceries under your jackets to keep them dry. The two of you hadn’t been in the safehouse ten minutes before a hoard of demons made their presence known by kicking down the door.

“Kevin!” You yelled a warning to the prophet just as a demon made to grab him—Kevin twisted away just in time, reaching for the holy water gun. He struggled to get a grip on it, his hands still soaked. Before he could, a second demon grabbed onto Kevin’s arm while the third and final demon knocked you back, keeping you away from Kevin.

Your back smashed against the kitchen counter, and you found yourself grasping for anything in reach to use as a weapon. Your hand closed around something cool—glass, maybe. Without even giving it a glance, you threw it at the demon keeping you from defending Kevin.

You got lucky—the glass container shattered against the demon’s face, and he began to scream as the cuts sizzled and burned; it was a salt shaker.

The second and first demon—both of whom now had a hold on Kevin—were momentarily distracted; it was all the prophet needed to twist away long enough to latch his fingers onto the water gun, and he brought it around and sprayed both demons in the face.

“Kevin, let’s go!” You’d gotten around the demons while they howled in pain, and now you hesitated in the doorway, waiting for Kevin to escape with you.

“No!” The demon howled. You saw the knife too late to stop it. “If we can’t have him, no one can!”

The demon buried the knife into Kevin’s stomach.

“No!” You screamed. Kevin gasped in pain—or shock—his mouth hanging open and his eyes darting down to the knife. The first demon glared at you, while the other two shared twin grins; then all three vanished.

“Kevin…” you whimpered as you took hesitant steps forward. Your hands were shaking as you reached for your friend—you knew enough to know not to take the knife out—and you grabbed hold of his jacket and eased it to the side to get a better look at…

The knife, stuck in a pound of ground beef from the market that Kevin had forgotten to take out of his jacket.

Kevin’s face brightened, his features lightening in relief. You just stared for a long minute, unable to still your runaway heart.

“Y/N?” Kevin breathed. “It’s…it’s ok. I’m—“

He never got to finish his sentence. You yanked the stabbed beef out of his inner pocket, throwing it across the room before snatching hold of his collar and yanking him towards you.

Kevin was stiff from shock for the first few seconds of the kiss, but as soon as he realized what was happening, he relaxed.

“Never scare me like that again,” you breathed when you finally pulled away.

Kevin’s grin was a mile wide.

“Yes ma’am.”

You snapped out of your memory when you heard your brothers start to speak.

“Congrats, guys,” Sam muttered awkwardly, while at the same time Dean grumbled—“oh boy.”

You couldn’t resist the eye roll this time—you should’ve known your brothers would make this weird.

“So—“ you broke the awkward silence. “I assume you came here for a reason. What’s going on?”

…

“Hey Kevin, let’s talk.”

Things had been calm for less than five before Dean brought up what you knew was coming.

“Uhh…” Kevin’s panicked eyes met yours. “Yeah, just, uh…just give me a second.” Kevin pulled you out of earshot of Dean.

“What?” You hissed. “You knew this was coming.”

“Yeah but you said you’d be there!” Kevin argued.

“No I didn’t,” you countered. “I said I’d step in if Dean went too far, I never said I’d babysit you any time Dean was around. This conversation is inevitable Kevin, I can’t stop Dean.”

“Fine.” Kevin huffed. “Can we at least have a code word.”

“For what?” You bit back a laugh.

“For if things get crazy!” Kevin struggled to keep his voice at a whisper.

“This isn’t a secret mission, Kevin.” You couldn’t hold back a little snicker at this. “If you need me, just say my name. It doesn’t have to be in code.”

“Your name.” Kevin took a deep breath. “Your name. Ok, I can do that.”

“Good.” You grinned, and you hoped it didn’t look too mocking. “Now go get him.”

…

“See?” You greeted Kevin as he returned from his talk with Dean—Dean looked much more happy than Kevin. “That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

“Uh…uh huh,” Kevin muttered. You cringed.

“He was a jerk, wasn’t he?” You asked.

“Uh huh.”

“Oh boy. C’mon, let’s go get some ice cream.”

…

“Hey Sam,” you greeted as you and Kevin watched Sam stride purposefully into the war room of the bunker. Sam however, didn’t say a word.

In three long strides, he reached Kevin. You watched in bewilderment as Sam stretched out his hand, realizing too late the truth—it wasn’t Sam.

His eyes flashed blue just as Dean burst into the room behind him.

“No!” Dean cried, and you turned just in time to see Sam—Gadreel—press his open palm against Kevin’s forehead. Kevin’s eyes flashed bright white.

You were screaming, you knew you were screaming. You could hear the inhuman screech piercing the air, but somehow it didn’t feel like you—you felt absent from your body, you felt like a floating, frozen nothing, forced to watch as your boyfriend slumped to the floor, his eyes just charred remains, as someone who was supposed to be your big brother turned his back and walked away.

“Kevin?” Dean choked. The air was a vacuum of nothing—no one moved, no one breathed, as you and Dean waited for a response that you both knew wasn’t coming.

You were reaching for him now, desperate to help him, to bring him back…but Dean pulled you away, turning you until your face pressed into his shoulder so you couldn’t get a closer look at your boyfriend.

As if he could make you unsee what had already scarred itself into your mind.

…

“Kevin?”

You held your breath as the apparition in front of you blinked out, then stabilized. It was him—after all this time, it was him.

“Yes!” Kevin breathed—could ghosts breathe?—a sigh of relief when he realized you all could see him. “I’ve been haunting this place for weeks and all you guys do is mope. It’s about time.”

“Kevin?” You said again, like you still didn’t believe it.

Kevin let his eyes wander for a long moment towards you, his hand twitching as if he wanted to reach for you.

“I don’t know how long I have,” he said, reluctantly turning his gaze back to your brothers. “So listen up.”

…

“My mom’s going to take me home until you guys can get the veil closed.” Kevin avoided looking at you as he spoke.

“Ok,” Dean said, and Sam nodded.

You huffed, uncomfortable with the silence.

“Can I have a minute?” You asked your brothers. They shuffled away without a word.

“It’s what I want,” Kevin said before you could speak. “I don’t want to just…being here as a ghost, it’s too much. It’s not what I want.”

“You don’t have to convince me,” you said quickly. “I…I wish you could stay here, but I understand your choice. I know it’s not the same as really being here.”

Silence reigned for several seconds.

“This sucks,” Kevin huffed finally. You couldn’t help but crack a sardonic smile.

“Yeah, it really sucks.”

“I wish we could’ve had more time.”

“Yeah.” You smirked. “We were quite the power couple.”

“Well now you’re just being cheesy,” Kevin chuckled, and you grinned.

“Hey, we got to at least try out that relationship thing—I guess that’s gonna have to be good enough.” You sighed. “Try not to drive your mom too crazy, ok?”

“Ok,” Kevin scoffed. “But only if you promise to fix your stupid brothers’ argument.”

“I’ll do my best,” you promised. Kevin turned to go. “Hey Kev?”

“Yeah?”

“Say hi to Patricia for me, ok?”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy @mrvlxgrl @chocorade @aestheticdaisies @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @casmustdiee @987coley @deadlymistletoe @wayward-impala83 @whump-loverz

[arjwrites]

Hi there! Found your account through a moot and wanted to maybe request a Sam x nephilim!reader where he finds out that she had been keeping that she was a nephilim a secret to try and protect him, but the truth comes out when they're on a hunt together? Maybe with established relationship?

Heaven Hellbent- Sam Winchester x Nephilim!Reader

Summary: When a hunt goes wrong, Sam discovers a secret you've been keeping for years. Part 1 of the series!

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: F!reader! Canon-level violence and language!

A/N: THANKS SO MUCH FOR YOUR PATIENCE ON THIS! I literally loved this request so much but really desperately wanted to do it justice, so it took me a little while. Seriously, this was one of my most re-written fics so far. I really wanted to finally get something out to you, but I have a lot more to write on this topic so I AM MAKING IT A SERIES!! This is a bit out of canon context but I really really hope you still enjoy, thank you again for such an amazing prompt and for your patience!

Ever since you had come into Sam's life, things felt lighter. You were this warm, radiating presence that had wrapped itself around every facet of his life. Sometimes, when you lay together late at night, when he would trace your body with his fingers and plant soft kisses on your forehead, he would silently pray- he still did that from time to time- addressing God, fate, the universe, or sometimes simply to whom it may concern, thanking anyone he could for the miracle of you. 

You were one of the most skilled hunters Sam had ever encountered. It felt like even having your presence on a hunt was an asset- when you were around, cases were solved quicker, monsters went down easier, and everyone walked away with far fewer injuries. He expressed this to you once, in your early years together.

“It just feels like everything clicks when you’re around. How is it that you make everything so easy?” He had asked you, eyes so full of admiration and innocence. Sweet, clueless Sammy. 

“Hmm, I must be a pretty serious good luck charm then, sweetheart. Better keep me around,” you had purred, eliminating the space that separated you in a sensual attempt to change the subject. 

Sam chuckled. “I like to think of you as our little guardian angel. My little angel.” Sam ducked down, meeting your lips with a soft, open-mouthed kiss, but not before his words sent a pang of anxiety through your body. It took a moment for you to reciprocate Sam’s kiss- you had to focus all your energy on keeping the lump that had formed in your throat from spilling to the surface.

Hiding your true identity from Sam was the hardest thing you had ever done, and yet the easiest choice you had ever made. You had been with him for years and had watched him and Dean go through so many horrible things. There were so many times you had wished you could step in- so many nightmares that could have been avoided if you had used your powers. But being a nephilim, you couldn’t. Because if you had, you would’ve had Heaven hellbent on your trail. And not just yours- anyone you had ever known or loved. Just the knowledge of your existence was a ticking time bomb, and the last thing you wanted to do was put yet another target on either Winchester’s back. 

It wasn’t without hard work that you had gone unnoticed this long. Keeping under the radar had been much easier before you had met Sam. You had spent more years than you could count traveling, reading, learning, anything to fill your seemingly endless time. You didn’t use your powers, didn’t meddle in matters of Heaven or Hell, you just kept a low profile. That was, until you crossed paths with two of the highest profiles out there- Sam and Dean Winchester.

Falling in love with Sam was the last thing you had ever planned to do. But the more time you spent with him, the more you were drawn to him. You marveled at the fact that anyone could meet him and not fall in love- a man so inherently good, so kind, practically an angel in his own right. Sometimes, it felt as though there were three forces that worked to keep you alive- your soul, your grace, and your love for Sam Winchester, all three intertwined, braided together to tether you to the Earth. 

So you stayed. You fought alongside Sam and Dean through every battle they faced. You did everything you could, finding ways to use your powers that would go undetected- by heaven and by the Winchesters. You could weaken demons and cast protection towards the boys, speed their healing subtly so that they wouldn’t notice. But there would be times when it would be far too dangerous to even let a glimpse of your powers show. Those were times that you would watch in agony as the man you loved faced horrors beyond your imagination. And those were the times you swore to protect him whenever you possibly could. 

Sometimes, however, things wouldn’t go to plan. You and the Winchesters were hunting a demon that had been causing trouble in a nearby town. Dean had suggested the three of you split up to try to catch the demon by surprise. You had protested, but the moment he barked the order, him and Sam had split, leaving you behind. You cursed to yourself, silently willing that you would find the demon first so you could smite him with ease and not risk either brother’s safety. 

Unfortunately, it hadn’t quite worked out that way. It had been well over an hour with no luck as you searched the stretch of abandoned warehouses. And neither you nor Dean could reach Sam’s phone. Fear set into your heart, a cocktail of worry and grace coursing through your veins. Your whole body was buzzing- normally, you would stop to calm it to avoid revealing yourself, but a horrible intuition left you no choice but to use it as fuel.

Meanwhile, Sam’s eyes blinked open, the dull pain in his head sharpening as he regained contact with his senses. There was a rope tied around him, anchoring him to a rickety chair and rubbing abrasively against his biceps. 

“Sam Winchester. Good to see ya, champ. Rare to find you without your partner in crime these days.” Blinking back the spots in his vision, Sam’s eyes focused on the man in front of him- scratch that, the demon, as revealed by a quick flash of black.

Sam, struggling against his restraints, retorted. “Dean will be here-” 

“Who said anything about Dean?” The demon cut him off, cocking his head. “I’m talking about your other little… friend. How’s it been, running all around town with that pet abomination of yours?” His smile was sickening, and there was something sinister about his words. He knew something Sam didn’t, and that was never a good thing.

“What are you talking about,” Sam hissed through clenched teeth.

“Nice try, Sam. Better get talking.” The demon sent Sam’s chair flying back into the wall to punctuate his command.

“I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” The demon pulled Sam’s chair back to him.

“Oh, you really don’t know? Scout’s honor?” He paced a lap around Sam, lurking over him as spite radiated off his every stride. “That crafty little bitch. That’s too bad, I was hoping to ask you a few questions… I guess I have no use for you, but why not break the news before I kill you? Secrets don’t make friends, right?” He knelt, drawing himself eye to eye with Sam, before practically spitting the words. “That pretty little girlfriend of yours is really a-” 

Before the demon could finish the thought, he was flat against the wall and screaming his way back to Hell. Sam, still tied to the chair, had a view limited to the empty room in front of him and the vessel the demon once possessed, now slumped in a pile on the floor. He released a breath, having watched the danger dissipate, before tensing back up. Whatever was behind him was powerful. He could feel every hair standing up on the back of his neck as his pulse began to pick up rapidly. Something was screaming inside him, begging him to get out, get away. 

“Oh, Sammy. This wasn’t supposed to happen this way,” called the creature from behind him. The words hung heavy in the air, tinged with heartbreak. Sam froze. He knew the origin of the voice, but it couldn’t be. He whispered your name and you came running. 

“Sam, sweetheart. Are you okay?” You knelt to the floor in front of him, unsheathing your knife to cut away his binds. 

Sam simply stared in response, mouth slightly agape and confusion nestling into his furrowed brow. He opened his mouth to speak, but you cut him off.

“Cat’s out of the bag, I guess. I’m sorry. I really didn’t want it to happen this way.” Guilt weighed heavy on you, as if you had done something horribly wrong. No, it was always to keep him safe, you reminded yourself. 

Sam sat dumbfounded a moment longer. “What are you?” he finally coughed out. It was as if asking the question had triggered his brain to process the situation, and he tensed in preemptive self-defense. 

This was it. No going back now. “I’m a nephilim, Sam.” Saying the words out loud felt like lifting the world off your own shoulders and watching it crash down all around you.

Your confession melted Sam’s expression into a series of reactions. You watched him work through the idea as if he was tossing your heart back and forth in his hands, weighing its pros and cons. 

“Please tell me you understand why I didn’t tell you, Sam. Why I couldn’t-”

Sam’s tone was tense- his lack of reaction almost made things worse. “There’s no way you didn’t tell me about this. I’ve- we’ve known you for-”

“For years, Sam! Before you knew there were even angels, before Dean went to Hell, before you had any idea about the bigger picture! That just goes to show you, Sam- I’m not part of any of this! I’ve kept my head down for thousands of years, not raising any flags or drawing any attention to myself. And then I met you- I met you and I had to love you, Sam, I had to. And then I had to watch you go through so much pain and suffering and all I wanted to do was help however I could but I-”

“But you couldn’t. Because it would put you in danger.” If Sam had landed on a stance, you sure couldn’t decipher it. His voice was soft and gentle, but his jaw flexed and his expression narrowed.  

“It would put you in danger too, Sam. And Dean. And everyone else.” Your response was quick, calculated. You had played this conversation out too many times in your head. Except you never had thought very far beyond the why didn’t you tell me and into the well what the hell do we do now? 

There was silence for a beat.

“The demon knew.” Sam spoke somberly, like he was hand-delivering you a death sentence.

“And now you know,” you contended, defeated. A heartbroken breath wracked through your body, shuddering out of your lungs as you stabilized yourself to avoid teetering over. It was like the wind had been knocked out of you- like you and the man you loved most in the whole world had been plucked from safety and tossed out into open season.

“So what does this mean?” Sam’s tone sat on the fence between concern for your apparent emotions and the fear and confusion that had characterized the rest of your exchange. 

“It means you can’t tell a soul, Sam. Not Dean, not anyone. Anyone who knows is at risk. And it means I… should probably leave.” Your stomach churned as you spoke. All of your worst fears were materializing in front of you. Try as you might, even your powers couldn’t zap them away. Your eyes rose to meet Sam’s, and finally, you could read his expression with clarity.

“No,” Sam shook his head.

“Sam, I can’t put you in danger-”

“And I can’t lose you!” You recoiled at his outburst. “I can’t lose you.” The second utterance was softer, bearing a greater resemblance to the sweet words Sam often shared with you. 

“Sam, if anyone finds out…” you pleaded. As much as it broke your heart, you couldn’t bear to put Sam in any more danger.

“They won’t. Tell me what I need to do, and I’ll do it.” Sam’s gaze was intense as he studied you. It was as if he was learning you all over again- like you were someone brand new to him. And yet, you could still see the love in his eyes. You were still you, after all. This was just a new layer of you. Sam had promised to love you, all of you. And if nothing else, he was a man of his word. He lifted a hand to your cheek and ran a thumb over your cheekbone, as if maybe you might feel different under his touch. And when you didn’t, his last scraps of hesitance melted away. Tears welled in your eyes. 

“Just… promise me not to tell Dean until we figure this out.”

“Promise not to tell me what?”

[profoundbondfanfic]

More destiel fic recs for your holiday season!

-Part 2 of 5-

…And a Dead Guy in a Pear Tree by xHaruka17x (Explicit, 6k words)

Struggling B&B owner Castiel Novak was sure that getting a local news camera crew to visit his establishment would help him get some much-needed publicity and just in time for the holidays… only Castiel had two very problematic issues on his hands… the reporter sent to scoop out his B&B is none other than his ex-lover Dean Winchester… Oh, and there's a dead man wrapped in his family Christmas tree… Castiel’s totally got this… maybe.

A Baby for Christmas by DyslexicSquirrel (Explicit, 11k words)

Dean Winchester finds a list of all the Eligible Alphas in town when he’s fixing Castiel Novak’s car and the fact that he’s not on it surprises him more than it should. He’s been pining for Castiel since he showed up in Oak Grove alone and pregnant, but Castiel never gave him, or any other alpha, the time of day. Now he’s on the hunt for a mate. Can he come up with a plan to make Castiel realize he’s the perfect alpha for him and make both their Christmas wishes come true?

A Very Merry Christmas by orphan_account (General audiences, 3k words)

Dean is Christmas shopping when he meets the Omega of his dreams.

Dance Real Close by Maleyah (Katherine_Kat) (Explicit, 5k words)

For the umpteenth time tonight, Castiel swallows and clenches his teeth, hard enough that he might just need a dentist appointment once this horrendous evening comes to its inevitable end and he has what he came for. Good thing the company has excellent health care. He forces his gaze into a faux-thousand yard stare, a wilful attempt to get lost among the many twinkling lights and ornaments. Just off of the shoulder of the man who is his current, last and most annoying obstacle. Dean Winchester. Dressed to the nines in a suit of snowflake white, he fits in at this high-end Yule Ball as if he hasn’t done anything else in his life. Top of his class and generation, ten years Castiel’s junior, much too skilled for his own good at nigh anything from close combat to subterfuge to extraction, his competition, who is, for some unfathomable reason, flirting with Castiel on the mission.

Married Christmas by wigglebox (Teen and Up, 13k words)

Time has passed since the dust settled and everything had been put "right". Things once seen as impossible in Dean's eyes is now tangible to him. All it needs is a wedding band and the promise of a future full of love and happiness.

Orna-meant to Be by MalMuses (Teen and Up, 5k words)

It's been a long year, but Castiel and his vampire boyfriend Dean have finally reached their first Christmas together. The first of many, if Dean has his way.

The Laws of Christmas by imaginaryprotagonist (Mature, 1k words)

Dean uses mistletoe as an excuse to make out with Castiel while maintaining to Sam that it’s just Christmas dudes being Christmas bros.

The Little Things by followyourenergy (Teen and Up, 11k words)

Dean Winchester made a New Year’s resolution to tell his best friend, Cas Novak, that he loves him. He’s almost out of time. So he devises a series of big, romantic ways to do it over the holidays. Of course, nothing goes to plan, and Dean is left morose…until Cas reminds him of something.

[ninii-winchester]

Behind Closed Doors (Part 1)

Pairing : Boss!Dean Winchester X Assistant!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: fluff, not proofread, and tbh I don’t even know where this is going.

A/n: new series (hopefully) First time writing an AU. Don’t let this flop please🙏🏻

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

Dean Winchester is the CEO of Winchester Co. for the past four years. He’s the oldest son of John Winchester, the founder and owner of Winchester Co., a real estate business. His office corner suite on the top of the floor in the building with floor-to-ceiling windows offering a panoramic view of the city skyline. The décor is modern yet understated, featuring a large mahogany desk, plush leather chairs, and abstract art on the walls. Behind the desk is a sleek bookshelf lined with awards, framed contracts. A smart wall panel controls lighting, climate, and the room’s privacy settings.

On the top floor other than the CEO’s office is his personal assistant’s work space. It’s a sleek, efficient area with a streamlined desk equipped with multiple monitors for scheduling, managing calls, and overseeing the flow of appointments. The space is minimalist, with soft lighting and ergonomic seating, offering both a professional and welcoming atmosphere for visitors waiting to meet the CEO

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester.” Y/n said entering his office. Dean looked up from his computer and glanced at the woman standing in the doorway with a styrofoam cup in her hands. “Got you your coffee.” She said holding it up. The man nodded and she entered the room completely, moving to hand him his daily dose of caffeine, which has been the routine for the past four years.

Y/n reached his side and he took the cup from her hands gracefully and placed it onto the table before pulling her down onto his lap. Y/n gasped at the sudden pull and he grinned up at her.

“Good morning baby.” Dean leaned up to place a soft kiss to her lips. “You’re late.” He commented resting his hands on her hips.

“Sorry boss, my boyfriend is a bit clingy in the morning.” She replied with a mocking smile. “Acts like a baby doesn’t let me leave when I spend the night.” She added with a pout. Dean barked out a loud laugh and it was moments like these that he was thankful for having the whole floor to himself.

“Acts like a baby, you say?” Dean feigned curiosity. “Well tell him you’re my mine and I need you here on time.” Dean mock reprimanded her. Y/n rolled her eyes at his teasing.

Dean Winchester is a private man. He doesn’t like expressing his emotions or talk about his personal life. He’s a workaholic and is married to his work. He had been working at this company ever since he was in college. While perusing his degree in business he did part take in business matters, worked as an assistant for his father. He’d worked hard for this title and four years ago he was appointed at the CEO of the company when his father stepped down.

When Dean was appointed CEO, he clearly needed an assistant too. He confided in his best friend, Castiel. Although Cas also had a degree in business administration he was not interested in taking over his father’s business and was rather interested in charity work and philanthropy. Castiel had suggested Dean to appoint Y/n as his PA, since he knew her from college and she had remarkable skills as well.

Although Dean did appoint her on Cas’ insistence he was a bit skeptical of her skills she needed a ‘recommendation’ to get a job. For the whole year, Dean made her work relentlessly, putting her skills to the test and demanding a high level of performance to prove her worth. And she did. With her hard work and extremely remarkable skills she impressed Dean, more than professionally.

In a typical cliche manner, the grumpy boss fell for his assistant. Though persuading her was a challenge for Dean. She was hell bent on keeping things professional and not wanting to cross the boundaries at her workplace. She was a hard nut to crack but eventually Dean worked his charm on her, showing her beyond his grumpy boss personality and wooing her with extreme gestures.

Now the two had been dating for almost three years and the only person who knew about them is none other than Castiel, the one who introduced them. Even Sam was not in on the secret.

“Can I go back to work, now?” Y/n asked getting up from his lap but he kept his hold firm on her hips, not letting her leave.

“No.” Y/n pouted in response, she hated when he did this, holding her hostage while at work . She really wanted to keep her personal and professional life apart, not wanting anyone to find out or even think for a second she’s sleeping with her boss.

“Dean.” She scolded when he kissed her pouty lips.

“Relax sweetheart, nobody’s coming up here anytime soon.” He shrugged and she sighed loudly, indicating her defeated even if she was reluctant. “Besides, I’ve got news for you.” Y/n raised her brow in curiosity urging him to continue. “We,” he traced her arm with his finger. “are going on a vacation.” Dean beamed at her.

“A vacation? We?” Y/n furrowed her brows. “Who’s we?” She questioned, clearly not understanding the situation. Is this a office vacation or the top officers vacation or just the two of them.

“You and me. A week in Bahamas.” Dean replied casually.

“A week? You want us to take a leave at the same time? It’d rise suspicion.” She whispered alarmingly.

“Baby, if I’m on leave then you’re on leave automatically. Besides, I’ve asked Cas to manage for a few days for me.” Dean replied. “We both have been working our ass off for the past four years, I think we deserve a vacation.” Dean grinned at her and for the first today, she agreed without interjecting. She’s just as much of a workaholic as Dean. She had taken a day off here and there but never a complete vacation. “Besides I’m dying to spend some time quality time with my girl without her grilling me about work.” Dean sassed and she smacked his arm lightly making him laugh.

“I’m not gonna slack off at work just because I’m dating you.” She said matter of factly. “And I do think we could use a vacation.” She finally agreed making his smile broaden. “God, if anyone could you see right now, Mr. Grumpy Winchester.” She giggled when he rolled his eyes. He loved it when she teased him about being a grumpy ass to everyone else except her but he would never accept it in a million years.

The door swung open and sauntered in Castiel in the flesh. Y/n quickly jumped off of Dean’s lap but relaxed when she saw it was Cas.

“Ever heard of knocking, Cas?” She taunted her friend, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Ah lovebirds. Ever the cautious.” Cas sassed back and Dean snorted earning himself a glare from her. “Don’t stop on my account, just wanted to deliver these, personally.” He said holding up two flight tickets to Bahamas.

“Thanks man.” Dean said getting up from his chair and getting the tickets from his friend. Castiel shot Y/n a teasing grin and she rolled her eyes at him, clearly unbothered by his teasing. He thrives in teasing her because she was the goody two shoes in college and the two had become friends after being paired up for an assignment, so seeing a different version of her around Dean, leaves him anything but amused.

“You are a bad influence on the both of us.” Y/n said feigning an angry glare at Cas.

“Oh dear Y/n, I know.” Cas winked and Dean laughed at his best friends shamelessness. The trio’s camaraderie was a reminder of how personal and professional lives often intersect in unexpected ways.

Tags:

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

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

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

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

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

@thelittlelightinthedarkess @enamoredwithbella @winchesterwild78 @myuhh8

[zepskies]

Against the Wind - Part 4

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x F. Omega!Reader 

Summary: You wake up in a strange alpha’s cabin in the middle of a snowstorm, all with a busted ankle. He holds shadows in his eyes, even though his hands are gentle. There are iron shutters around his heart, even though he saved you. You might just save him in return.

AN: The grand finale...

Song Inspo: “Against the Wind” by Bob Seger

Word Count: 3.4K

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Smut, knotting, claiming, fluff and feels.

Series Masterlist || Bingo Masterlist

Part 4: Running to Live

His cold hands are warming on your skin as he slides them underneath your sweater. They move smoothly up your back, bunching up the material. You break from his kiss only to help him get the sweater off you, followed closely by his pants.

Your sweatpants slide down your legs with just a sharp tug, baring most of your body to his gaze. His eyes drag over your exposed neck and shoulders, your breasts cupped in your bra, down to your panties and bare thighs.

A shiver runs through you, both from his heated gaze, and from being exposed to the cooler air. Even with the fire going and the heater running in the cabin, the frigid air outside is unforgiving.

You have no problem with the way Dean guides you down from the chaise to take advantage of your nest on the floor, right in front of the fire. He draws you into a sensuous kiss, sucking your lower lip into his mouth and grazing with teeth.

“Were you nesting, Omega?” he teases, between the sinful meetings of his lips with yours. You hum your affirmation before his tongue swipes across your lower lip, seeking entrance.

You open yourself to him in more ways than one; you slip your hands across his naked shoulders and explore the smooth planes of muscle, the dips and softness in between. You encourage him to lower down, to cover you with the length and broadness of his frame. His weight is a welcome one between your thighs and against the softness of your body.

“Was worried about you,” you whisper a confession against his lips. Dean briefly pauses, meeting your eyes.

“Thanks for waiting up,” he says, with a hint of a smile.

Your lips curve upwards in return. You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the prickling of his stubble. Your fingers thread into his hair, and you pull him back down for a devouring kiss.

Dean’s brows furrow as he holds you to him, wanting to feel every part of your skin against his. His calloused fingers map their way down your side, and across your back to unhook your bra. His lips veer away from yours to burn a wet, heated trail along your neck. His teeth come out to graze your skin, down your throat, down the lovely valley between your breasts.

“Dean,” you gasp, encouraging him when his hand cups one of your breasts. He explores the other with his mouth, teasing a pebbled nipple with his tongue. Your fingers tighten in his hair, your thighs rubbing together between the cage of his knees in the mess of blankets. Already you feel slick forming at the apex of your thighs and slipping down in between.

“Beautiful,” he murmurs against your skin. “Fucking beautiful, you know that?”

You can’t help but smile. Your face warms either from the fire dancing shadows across your bodies, or from him, his attention, his warmth, and the heat in his eyes when they meet your again. His hand slides down your body, over your hip and squeezing your thigh as he opens you up further for him.

“Tell me what you want, Omega.” While I still have control, his tone implies. His voice is gravel and sin while his hand moves swiftly and smoothly up the inside of your thigh.

“Touch me,” you breathe.

Nodding, he hooks his fingers around the hem of your panties and slides them down. You help him kick them off. Afterward, his thumb brushes over your mound, making you sharply inhale and squeeze his shoulders encouragingly. His fingers dip inside your wet heat, his brows raising with a smirk, as he feels the sheer amount of your slick already coating his digits.

“Fuck. This all for me, baby?” he remarks.

You hold onto the back of his neck with both hands as you nod, biting your lip. Your hips begin to cant against his hand on reflex, urging him to touch you.

“Alpha, please…” you implore, in a ragged whisper. He swallows your plea with a ravaging kiss, but he still gives you what you want. His thumb circles your clit, earning a moan from you into his mouth.

Soon, two of his fingers plunge slowly inside you, working you open, drawing more gasps and shudders of pleasure from your body. His length continues to strain hard against your thigh, but for him, it’s worth it to draw every sound, every time your body writhes and arches against him, craving release.

With a few more purposeful strokes, your inner walls clamp tight on his hand, and a flood of slick coats his knuckles even more. You gasp his name, your hands squeezing his arms just as tight as your pussy around his fingers.

Your skin is beginning to get dewy with sweat, and he kisses some of it off you when he trails down your chest. You stroke down his arms, down his back, whatever you can reach as you catch your breath. But then, his name falls from your lips with a firmer tone.

Dean raises his head, and you gently push at his chest. His brows furrow in confusion, only for it to be replaced with a smile of surprise when you curl a thigh over his hip and guide him onto his back. His head just manages to fall on one of your pillows, but he still utters a small grunt. You giggle down at him, bowing to meet him for a kiss.

He smirks and holds onto your hips, playfully squeezing your ass. “My wily omega.”

“Thought I was your cheeky omega,” you tease.

He snorts. “That too.”

You giggle some more as you treat him to the same path of open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Except this time, you hook a hand behind his neck, and you trail your tongue around his mating gland. You feel his jolt of surprise, as well as his instinctive growl of pleasure in response to his mate. Or at least, not yet…

His heart pounds in his chest.

“Omega,” he says, a warning not to tease as his grip tightens on your hips.

The command in his voice makes you shiver, but you smile and nuzzle his cheek in affection. You kiss your way down his body, playing special attention to his nipples, his stomach, the soft V and the happy trail of light brown fuzz leading you down between his hips.

Your fingers slide down his hardened desire through his underwear, earning a grunt from him, along with a shifting of his body against the blankets. Your lips curve as you nuzzle him there as well, letting your lips drag across his impressive length.

His fingers tangle in your hair when you hook your nails around the waistband and free his cock from its confines. His boxers join the rest of your clothes somewhere, and finally you get to see all of him, as much as he takes in all of you. Your hand wraps around his girth, your thumb circling around the sensitive, weeping head of it. Dean groans, a sound from deep in his chest.

You don’t know this, but it’s been a while since anyone but his own hand has touched him. That’s not the only reason his body has been calling to yours, but it plays a part in how fucking good it feels, and how much more he wants you.

He feels your intentions when your hand moves down his shaft in a teasing caress, your fingers tracing around his knot. A shudder rattles down his spine, makes his desire burn hotter in the pit of his stomach.

He can’t fucking take it anymore. He needs you, needs to be inside you. Needs to take you the way his instincts demand.

He grasps your shoulder before you put your mouth on him. You blink up at him, with a question forming on your lips, but he hefts you up onto his chest by your arms. He cages you there with a kiss filled with abject need.

“I can’t. Can’t wait anymore,” he says. He drags his fingers through your folds and earns another moan from your when he finds your clit. “You ready for me, Omega? Need my knot?”

“Yeah,” you nod, agreeing against his lips. “Need you, Alpha—”

No sooner had the words escaped your lips, when Dean rolls you back underneath him. But this time, he guides you onto your stomach, then raises up your hips, until you’re on your hands and knees. You catch your breath as you regain your bearings, shooting an incredulous smile over your shoulder at Dean. He smirks back at you, but his gaze is intense, his pupils darkened with the alpha inside him. 

Still, he soothes a hand down your back and steadies you with a hold on your hip. You feel him slot himself behind you, guiding his cock at your entrance. His chest presses hotly against your back.

“Last chance, Omega,” he says, his voice tight with restraint.

You look back at him again over your shoulder, your mouth threatening to frown. You reach back and sink your fingers into his hair with a sharp tug. “Do it.”

He sinks into you with one smooth plunge. It’s a relief for both of you, your mingled moans echoing in the near silence. All that’s left is the sound of your quickening breaths, of skin against sweat-slick skin as you move together.

Dean brushes your hair away from your neck. He kisses and licks his way along your bare shoulder, and finally the back of your neck. You’re trembling by the time his lips find the sensitive flesh of your mating gland. It echoes with the pulsing from your core as he continues to drive into you.

“Alpha,” you gasp on reflex. You squeeze his arm; he has it wrapped tight around your middle. Your pleasure builds ever closer to that crescendo, especially as his thrusts become ragged, at an angle that zips delicious tingles through your core. “Close…just…I need…”

Dean isn’t so far gone. He hears you, and helps you, reaching his hand around to strum his fingers insistently on your clit, along with his final thrusts.

Finally, it tumbles you over. Your inner walls become impossibly tight around him as he draws out your second release—one that triggers his own. Dean groans into your ear; his knot swells and locks into place, and he spends himself deep inside you. He pants hot against your neck, but even though he fastens his lips there, he hesitates, once again making you shudder. 

“Do it,” you repeat, in a coarse whisper. You’re close to tears. “Please. Want you, Alpha. Need you…”

Once again, he hears you.

His teeth sink into the back of your neck, making you cry out. But your pain is quickly overshadowed by a deepest pleasure, thrumming along with his.

 Afterward, Dean holds you in his arms. The warm glow of the fire paints your skin in its light, despite the utter darkness in the rest of the house. 

While you both wait for his knot to subside, you revel in the fact that you know he’s content. You can feel it through the newly formed bond. He traces random shapes in your skin, which still glistens with a fine sheen of sweat. The fire he stoked doesn’t help to cool you down, but you don’t care.

Nothing else matters but this. You turn your head toward him over your shoulder. He meets you there with a gentle kiss, much more gentle than any other you’ve shared before. It feels right. 

When he parts from you, he presses another kiss to your forehead. Then he leans back a little and sighs. You feel his thumb trace the raw flesh around the claiming mark on your neck. A small shiver runs through your body. Maybe on another day, you’ll mark him in return.

“It’s too damn late,” he says, breaking the silence. “You realize that right?”

You shoot him a frown. “Too late for what?”

“For me to let you go,” he says. 

His words both warm you and make you sad. Just how little does he think of himself?

“Dean,” you say, endeavoring to be patient. “You’re my true mate. Do you know how rare it is that we’ve actually found each other?”

Dean remains quiet.

“And after everything you’ve done for me,” you add, “how can I not think you’re a good man? How can I not think this is right?”

He seems to consider your question. His gaze briefly falls, then meets your eyes again.

“You don’t know me that well,” is his answer, with a wry turn of his lips. 

You reach back to caress his cheek. “Then tell me. Tell me about, um…tell me about how you became a hunter. From your dad’s journal, I got the sense that it’s a family thing.”

A vendetta, you wanted to say, but you keep that thought inside.

Dean chuckles, dropping another kiss onto your shoulder. You feel the pleasurable rasp of his stubble.

“Yeah, more like a family business,” he says. 

He tells you why John Winchester started writing in that journal in the first place. Dean explains it in his own words, of what his family was before and after a demon broke into his brother’s nursery. Your heart continues to break for him, over and over, the more story he tells. Your shock can only reach new heights when he tells you about angels and demons and everything in between. 

There are moments where he pauses, needing the time to find his words. He’s talked for so long that his knot finally softens, allowing you to withdraw from him, just to turn in his arms and be able to see his face. He bundles you in the blankets to keep you warm, but he also keeps you close, with a loose arm around your waist as he continues. 

You sense that he’s not telling you everything. How could he? A lifetime of blood and wins and incredible losses; family gained, and family lost, endless saves, and so many near misses. You listen with rapt attention (and a lot of shock) to everything he can share, but your heart twinges when you see how he struggles to talk about his mother’s most recent death. Then his best friend Cas. 

You realize that this man, for all his self-deprecation, is a hero. More so than you already knew.

“After the whole Chuck thing was done, I thought we’d just…go back to status quo. Me and Sam against the world, you know?” Dean says. He gives a rueful smile. “Then Sammy tells me he knocked up his mate.”

You smile. “You’re happy for him though.”

“Course I am,” Dean nods. “He never thought he’d get to have all that. A badass chick who can keep him on his toes, a house, the kid, the whole damn thing. He’s downright respectable again.”

His brotherly pride and his humor are tinged with something else though. You think you begin to understand. His losses have weighed him down, leaving him aimless and living in that in between, not unlike the ghosts he used to hunt. You know the feeling. 

You thread your fingers with his, earning his attention. 

“You can have that too, you know,” you say. “I mean, I don’t want to skip ahead, but I feel like things are going well here, despite the whole busted ankle thing.” 

Dean slowly smiles, shaking his head. He brings your hand up to his lips. 

“Okay, enough about my Hallmark movie life. What about you?” he asks. 

So you tell him. 

You two continue to share and explore, both in words and with your bodies, until morning comes. 

It’s another week in the cabin before Dean insists on helping you down the mountain. Your ankle has gotten a little better, but at this point, you need to see a doctor. It takes a couple of days, going as slow as you need to. He ends up carrying you for most of the way anyway. You tell him over and over that he doesn’t have to, but your alpha is stubborn. 

Once he gets you back to the city, you two take a shuttle to the nearest hospital. X-rays are taken, and you get a new cast for your officially fractured ankle. At the very least, you don’t need surgery. You’re able to call your mom from there and let her know where you’ve been, that you’re all right, and best of all…that you’ve found your mate. 

You cry along with her on the phone, this time for a good reason. The best reason. 

When you’re eventually released from the hospital, Dean picks you up in a sleek, black Chevy that has your eyes wide. 

He grins at the look on your face. “Hey, sweetheart. Come meet my Baby.” 

He parks the car and keeps the heater running while he comes around to you in swift strides. He takes your crutches and slides them into the backseat, then helps you into the passenger seat. 

“It’s beautiful, but my God, how old is this thing?”

“She. She’s a she.”

“Oh, pardon me,” you say in amusement. “Do I have some competition here?”

Dean gives you a teasing smirk. “Well, technically, she’s been with me a lot longer than you.” 

You scoff incredulously. He laughs and takes your hand, pressing a kiss into your palm. You discreetly study him and marvel at how much lighter he seems. You don’t know how much is because of this, what your hand in his symbolizes, and how much is because he’s reunited with something important to him. 

“It’s okay, Omega mine,” he says, with a measure of desire in his eyes. “From now on, you’re my priority.”

Your spine prickles with the same arousal you can feel from him through the bond. You lean across the way and share a thorough kiss. 

Until a horn honks loudly from behind. You both jolt, but Dean’s face falls into annoyance. He shoots up a choice finger at the car behind him in the rearview mirror. You laugh as he begins to peel out of the curved pick-up and drop-off zone in front of the hospital. 

“Where are we going, Dean?” you ask, still smiling in amusement. 

“Wherever we damn well please.” He turns to you with a hint of a smile reforming on his lips. “Want me to take you back home? We can sort out the logistics on, uh…well, this.”

You think about it. He poses a good idea, but at the same time, you’re not quite ready for this part of the adventure to end. 

“How long has it been since you’ve seen Sam?” you ask.

Dean blinks at your question. He whistles lowly. “About a year. Jesus, since my nephew was born.”

You smile and reach over, resting your hand on his thigh. 

“Let’s go see him, then,” you say. “I want to meet your family. Then you can meet mine.”

After that, you two can figure out the rest, like where to live, and how you’ll live. 

Dean raises a brow. “Really? That’s like, a thirteen-hour drive.”

You shrug. “I’ve always wanted to go on a real road trip. Can we get some food first though? I’m starving.” 

He laughs and nods as he stops the car at a red light.

“What do you know? A woman after my own heart,” he says. His amusement eases into a gentler smile the longer he stares at you. You smile back, and you give into the urge to lean in again, meeting your lips with his. He brushes your cheek tenderly with his thumb. 

“I know what this needs,” he says lowly. Your brows draw together in a silent question. 

He pulls away to reach into the side compartment along the driver door. He fishes out a cassette tape labelled Zeppelin IV. You bite your lip and try not to say anything smartassed.

Damn, this man is old school. 

He skips ahead until he finds Track 7, just as the light turns green. A melodious guitar riff fills the car as he turns onto the main road with your hand wrapped in his. 

Made up my mind to make a new start.

Going to California with an aching in my heart…

AN: And that's all, folks! 🥹 I truly hope you enjoyed Against the Wind!

Like I said in a recent update, I have more stories in store for you guys. January 3 will be Part 1 of Outlander -- sequel to The Honorable Choice -- a Western AU with Dean as our resident cowboy! I'll post a sneak peek on that one soon.~

But in the meantime, I hope you'll let me know what you thought of ATW! 💜💜

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[holylulusworld]

The one that got away (1)

Summary: Your best friend breaks your heart.

Pairing: AU!Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, unrequited feelings, time jump, regret

A/N: This is a little gift for @elle14-blog1 for her birthday. It’s today, so happy birthday, lovely. And, I decided to turn this story into a mini-series. 😁

The one that got away masterlist

Dean Winchester would never break your heart. Right? He’s your best friend. You used to be thicker than thieves. Until. One day. You decided to tell him how you truly feel about him.

You wanted more than being his best friend. So, one day you decided it’s time to step up for yourself and tell him you want more. Much more.

Sadly, Dean didn’t require your feelings. He stammered your name, telling you he was sorry, but doesn’t feel the same. It was worse that he hugged you and told you he’s going to be your friend if that’s enough.

You shook your head and choked out his name. “No,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “I think we cannot be friends any longer. I love you, and it’s killing me inside. If you are my friend, you’ll understand that we can never see each other again.”

That day, you walked away with a heavy heart and tears in your eyes. Deep down in your heart, you knew it wasn’t his fault. Sometimes you just fall in love with the wrong person. You cannot force them to love you.

This doesn’t mean it won’t break your heart to cut ties with them…

A few years later, …

Today is a good day. It’s not only your birthday, but the day conference you have been waiting for. You just got a promotion and love your new job. But the best is, that you feel cute and self-confident in your brand-new dress. 

“Y/N, are you ready for the conference?” Your colleague asks. She nervously tugs at her blazer; eyes darting from you to the arriving participants of the conference. “I’m a little nervous. Uh-I hate talking in front of people.”

“Just imagine them naked and you are golden,” you chuckle at your own boldness. She gasps at your words and slaps your arm. 

“That’s not helpful.”

“Hmm…” you nod and drop your eyes to the notes in your hands. You’ll be the one opening the conference and now, you are a little nervous too. “Maybe we should take a deep breath and relax a little. They are all people, and no one is going to bite us if we make a mistake.”

“I wish I could,” she whines. “Wish me luck, Y/N. If I embarrass myself in front of all these strangers, I’m going to drown my sorrows in cupcakes.”

“Phew, I made it.” Half an hour later your colleague stands next to you, sighing deeply. “I won’t do this again. I’m telling you; my panties are soaked.”

“What?” You choke on your spit.

“I sweated like a nun in the church,” she whispers. “I wish you look. I’m going to grab the largest coffee and a dozen cupcakes to celebrate I didn’t embarrass myself.”

You chuckle as someone calls your name. It’s your turn to hold your speech, and you only hope you won’t ruin this. Speaking in front of many people is not your favorite task, to be honest.

While you walk toward the front of the room, you feel all eyes on you. 

You take a deep breath and sort your notes. “Hello, and welcome. We have been looking forward to this conference. All of us.” You smile at the people listening to your words. “Let me introduce you now to our newest project. The one we will be working on together. Cheryl will guide you through the presentation. You can ask me and her questions later.”

Cheryl, your assistant starts the presentation, and you step a little to the left to take the only free seat next to a man who has his back on you and the presentation. 

“Sir, you should turn around. The presentation is—” Your heart stops beating for a minute when the man turns around. A pair of familiar green eyes meet yours. You just stare at him – the man haunting your dreams and thoughts.

“Hello sweetheart,” he casually says, as if you parted ways just yesterday. Dean smiles that million-dollar smile making a woman weak in the knees. Damn him, he still can make your heart race. “How have you been?”

Dean watches you nervously shift in your seat. The presentation and your assistant long forgotten, you drink his features in. There are a few lines around his eyes, and his hair is a little longer. He’s wearing an expensive suit and a tie, but he still looks like the cocky guy who used to be your best friend.

“Good,” you finally reply. “You?”

“Good, I guess,” he clears his throat. “I mean, I like my job, and I still got my car.”

“Baby?” You can’t help but smile. “How is the pretty lady?”

“Still pretty,” he leans closer and brushes his thumb over your thigh. “Not as pretty as you, sweetheart. You look pretty in that dress. Blue suits you.”

“Now you try to charm your way out of this unexpected encounter,” you slap his hand, and chuckle. If only your heart would stop beating out of your chest close to him. “How’s Sam?”

“He’s a lawyer now, and married to Jess,” he says. “You remember the blonde he met before you left town?”

“She was nice.” You clear your throat. “They made a cute couple. I knew there was something special between them.”

He nods, but his eyes sadden a little. “So…are you already married to Mr. Fantastic?” 

“No, I—” you fake-cough. “I was busy making a career and building a life. I didn’t have the time to get married and such.”

“Same. I’m still the untamable bachelor looking for the one.” Your heart flutters when he looks at you. There is something in his eyes you didn’t see before. Sadness, or regret maybe.”

“Yeah,” you nod in agreement. “Finding the one is hard. People are…you know.” You shrug. “It’s difficult to fulfill all the things they look for in a partner. I didn’t fulfill anyone’s standard yet.”

“Y/N, you are perfect. Why would you want to change for a guy?” He squares his jaw when you look away. Dean knows who made you feel this way. 

Cheryl calls your name, and you reluctantly leave your seat to talk about your presentation and the project. 

Dean watches you every move. He licks his lips and leans back in his chair. Dean nervously runs his hand over his thighs, trying to calm his nerves. Seeing you after such a long time woke a longing in him.

There is more than the flutter in his heart when you shyly glance in his direction. If he allows himself to be honest, Dean knows that deep down in his heart he let his soulmate go back then… 

The one that got away (2)

Tags in reblog.

[kaleldobrev]

Aren't You a Little Young? (4) — The 15 Year Problem Series

Pairing: MOC!Dean Winchester x F. Reader

Feat. Character(s): Reader & Dean Winchester

Series Summary: Needing help on a poltergeist case, you ask fellow hunter Sam Winchester for help. Despite having a broken arm, Sam agrees to help you. But, just as he’s about to head out and meet you, Dean tells him that he’ll take his place and help instead.

Chapter Word Count: 1.8k

Chapter Warnings: Cursing (2x), Age Gap (15 years), Sexual tension, Asshole Cop & Sassy!Reader

Authors Note: A prequel series to the Old Man Universe (OMU) on how Dean and reader met | Takes place a few days after Dean is cured from being a demon in 2016 (please read this post for reasonings why it’s 2016, not 2014) | A little bit of a shorter part | As always, thoughts are in italics and the "POV's" switch between Dean & Reader | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

⋆ The 15 Year Problem Masterlist ⋆

⬸ Go Back & Read Chapter 3

The first night (well, night was a strong word, as when the pair of you ended up finally going to bed, it was close to sunrise) sharing a bed with the older Winchester brother wasn't as awkward as you expected it to be, but the entire time you were afraid to move a muscle, as you didn't want to accidentally roll over and spoon him. But you couldn't help but wonder what he would have done if you did that. What kind of excuse would you have come up with? Would he have believed you?

You kept your back toward him, and from your peripheral, you noticed that he also kept his back toward you. You wondered if he usually slept on his side, or just stuck to that way of sleep in order to give you as much sleeping space as possible.

When you woke, it was almost 9 in the morning; a lot later than when you usually woke when on a case, but you figured you must of needed the sleep because you got four hours instead of your usual two.

You reached out your hand at the empty spot next to you, and it was still slightly warm. You felt a slight sadness, hoping that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel room. You hoped that he would have waited for you to get up before doing anything. Then again, you didn't completely know how the man operated.

The sound of shower going on made your heart skip a beat, and you felt weirdly giddy knowing that Dean hadn't left you alone in the motel. But as you heard the shower running, you could hear something else coming from the bathroom. Is he...humming? You questioned, and then you smiled, thinking how adorable it was that someone like Dean sung or hummed in the shower.

Rolling onto your back, you looked up at the ceiling for a moment, smiling at the situation. For the first time in a long time, you felt at peace; you were happy. But that happiness and smile quickly faded when reality started to sink in. Dean was not your boyfriend, and he was never going to be. Once this case was done and over with, you'd have to go back to your apartment to your actual boyfriend. A boyfriend who you were planning on breaking up with the moment you stepped past the threshold.

Dean was barely able to get any sleep because of you. Not because you were tossing and turning, but because of how close you were to him and there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. You were barely a foot away from him, and all he wanted to do was reach out and touch you; bringing you close to his chest and feel your skin against his. He wanted more than anything to just stroke your cheek and give you a forehead kiss. Maybe when the case was done and over with, he could somehow find an excuse to hug you at least.

He needed to stop with the fantasies of you and him together. It was never going to happen. You were never going to actively choose to be with him, or someone like him. Maybe if he wasn't a hunter, then maybe he would of had a chance with you. Then again, if he wasn't a hunter, maybe he would have never met you in the first place. That's when he started debating with himself about whether or not meeting you was the best thing to happen to him in a while or the worst thing to happen to him in a while.

Dean sighed, shutting off the water as he prepared himself to face you this morning. He was lucky when he woke up, because you were still sound asleep next to him. You were completely curled up, and you looked so peaceful.

The ride to the police station was quick, yet painful, as he was in another confined space with you. Your perfume or whatever you wore that smelt citrusy and woodsy at the same time kept hitting his nose throughout the drive. At one point, he held his breath so he couldn't smell you, because you smelt absolutely intoxicating to him. The urge to pull over and kiss you kept hitting him.

But that was not the only part of the drive that was torture for him. During the drive, you sang along to whatever music he had playing: Zeppelin, AC/DC, Johnny Cash, you name it. You knew every single word to every single song that he played. Did Sam put you up to this somehow to make him feel better after months and months of being a demon? He shook that thought quickly out of his head, as you being a siren made the most sense to him. Then again, Sam did like to fuck with him sometimes...

Out of nowhere, you turned to him, a soft smile on your lips. "So, I was thinking, after we go talk to some of the cops and hopefully get some files at the station, we go back to that diner and actually have a sit down meal together?" You asked. The question you asked him was so innocent, but yet, he sensed a slight romantic intention behind it. Were you flirting with him? No, you couldn't have. You were dating someone and you were 15 years younger than him; there was no chance that you were. But in order to survive, he needed to say no, as much as he wanted to say yes.

"Sure," he said, and mentally cursed at himself.

"Awesome," you said, keeping that same soft smile on your lips. You turned back to the window and looked out, resting your chin on your hand as you continued to quietly hum to Deep Purple.

"Hi, I'm Special Agent Shaw, and this is my partner Special Agent Hanniger. We're here in regard to the three murder victims you've had in the last month," you stated, both you and Dean flashing your respective badges.

The officer looked at you and Dean a few times, before a confused look formed on his face. "Aren't you a little young looking to be a federal agent ma'am? You look to be jailbait to me," he said, half chuckling to himself.

All you wanted to do was roll your eyes at this jailbait comment, and reprimand him to making such a comment, but you had to keep your composure. Unfortunately, this was not the first time you had heard such a comment, and it probably wouldn't be your last.

Out of your peripheral, you noticed that Dean was about to speak, but you quickly started talking, as you felt defending yourself would sound better coming from you, than him. "Why thank you Officer. I really appreciate that comment, because I can tell that my skin care routine is really doing wonders. But, just so you're aware, the minimum age to be a Special Agent is 23, and since I first applied when I was 23, and have been a Special Agent for the past five years, I am not what you call jailbait by any means. You can even ask my partner here, as he's been my partner all five of these years."

You flashed the officer a smile, the kind of smile you gave people to let them know that you were not going to be dealing with their bullshit. Silence fell between the three of you, and out of your peripheral, you could see Dean smirking, like he was impressed by you. "Whenever you're ready, we'd like to see those case files," you said.

"Um, right, right. Uh, this way Miss...I mean, Agent. Agent," the officer said, stumbling over his words, embarrassed by the confrontation that he probably wasn't expecting from someone like you.

Dean couldn't help but experience such an intense amount of joy in the way you spoke to the officer; as he couldn't have been more proud. There was a part of him that wanted to give you a pat on the back or give a thumbs up, followed by a 'that's my girl,' but he knew he couldn't do that. You weren't his girl; you weren't his anything.

“This is Special Agents Shaw and Hanniger,” the officer said, introducing you and Dean to the coroner. The officer looked at the two of you again. “Jones here can answer any questions you have,” he said, directing his comment to you and smiling.

“Thank you,” you said nodding, as the officer headed back up the stairs, leaving you, Dean, and the coroner alone in the basement.

“Special Agents?” Jones questioned, placing his pen down on his desk. “Why does the FBI have an interest in these cases? They’re pretty cut and dry.”

“If they’re so cut and dry, why haven’t you released a cause of death yet to the public?” You questioned.

The coroner sighed. “We’re trying not to worry the public by releasing the causes,” he explained. But you weren’t taking that as an answer, as you felt that there was a deeper reasoning behind it.

“Meaning?” Dean asked, joining the conversation.

“I’m assuming the both of you read my reports,” Jones said, eyeing the two of you. You did, but you weren’t sure if Dean had the chance to glance at them at all before he switched places with Sammy.

“Yes, but your files didn’t have a whole lot of detail to them,” you stated.

“Not much I can write when the cause of death is something that’s completely unnatural for the body to do,” Jones said. “How do you explain to three separate families, that their loved ones had all of their blood drained from their bodies with no forced entry, no signs of a struggle, and no markings to indicate where the blood was drained from? If you know, I’d love to hear it.”

“Can we see the bodies?” You asked, and the coroner shook his head. “No?”

“They’ve already been cremated,” he said, almost sounding disappointed.

“Already? It’s an open serial murder investigation and the last murder happened not even three days ago.” You found it strange that there was not even one body that you and Dean could examine for yourselves.

“Although we have no leads, we wanted to give the families closure,” Jones explained. “Or do you not believe in closure Agent Shaw?”

“I do. But I’m not sure how you expect us to help you, when we don’t even have a single body to look at to see if you missed anything.” You were starting to become frustrated, annoyed at the coroner, even though you knew he was just trying to do his job — even if it was a lousy one.

You took a deep breath, and Dean took that as his cue to continue the conversation. “Can you give us copies of the autopsies you performed?”

“Yes, I can make copies for you,” Jones said, getting up from his desk. “The witness statements as well?”

“We’ll take anything that’ll be useful in finding a possible lead,” Dean said, and Jones nodded, leaving the room so he could retrieve copies of the reports.

Once the coroner left, you turned to Dean, slightly sighing. “I could really go for a beer right about now. How about you?”

⤑ Move Forward & Read Chapter 5

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