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agirlwithdemonblood · 4 months

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Through The Shadows: Chapter 4 - Closer to the Edge

Pairings: Dean Winchester x Reader

Series Summary: A hunter's Journey through despair and recovery is guided by Dean Winchester's unwavering love, leading her to reclaim her strength, voice and hope for their shared future.

Chapter Summary: A little drinks, a little conversation, a little love.

Warnings: Mentions of self harm and suicide. Anxiety and depression, heavy topics.

A/N: I wanted to just add/mention that this Dean Winchester is how I picture him, some may not agree that he's a huge softie down under but I would picture him being one, so if you don't like it you don't have to read it! <3

Series Masterlist here!! & Main masterlist here!

Y/N approached Dean the next morning, her anxiety visible in the way she fidgeted with her hands. "Dean?" she asked hesitantly, glancing up at him.

Dean looked up from cleaning his gun, raising an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

She took a deep breath, her voice wavering. "Do you want to go out again tonight? I mean, if you're not too busy."

Dean paused, considering her request. Before he could answer, she quickly added, "It's okay if you don't want to. You seem busy.."

"Y/N." Dean called, his voice firm but gentle. "I'd like to go out again. Just give me a minute to put away some stuff."

She visibly relaxed, nodding. "Okay. Thanks."

As they walked through the hallway to the Impala, Dean noticed Y/N's growing anxiety. Her breaths came in quick, shallow puffs, and she kept wringing her hands. He didn't say anything, not wanting to embarrass her, but his concern deepened.

They drove to the same secluded spot under the stars. Dean parked the car and turned to her, his eyes filled with worry. "How bad is your anxiety right now? From one to ten?"

She took a deep breath. "About a six."

Dean frowned, leaning closer. "Did something happen? Did I do something?"

She shook her head quickly, placing her hand on his. "No, it's not you. It just... comes randomly."

He sighed, wishing he could do more to ease her mind. "If you need to talk about it, or if you need a break, let me know, okay?"

She nodded, than changed the subject. "You had more questions, right? You can ask."

He hesitated as he looked back at her. "I don't think-"

"It's okay." She chimed in, "Ask."

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for the conversation. "I know a little bit about depression but not much.. So I wanted to know how bad has you depression ever gotten?"

She looked at him, her eyes searching his. "Do you want me to be honest?"

"Please, only if your comfortable." Dean said softly, bracing himself.

"When I was 19, it got so bad I had to be hospitalized," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper.

Dean's heart clenched, "Why?"

She hesitated, then continued, her voice shaky. "I tried to kill myself."

Dean's eyes widened and he felt a wave of emotions crash over him. "Why would you-?" He stopped himself, realizing how his question might sound. "I mean, what happened?"

Y/N looked away, her gaze distant. "I felt like i couldn't go on anymore, everything was just too much. I was alone and I just... I couldn't see another way out."

Dean swallowed the lump in his throat as he stared back in her eyes, "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could have been there for you."

She gave him a sad smile. "Thanks. But it's in the past."

He struggled to keep his emotions in check, feeling a fierce protectiveness for her. "How are you coping with it now?"

She hesitated, then downed her drink in one gulp. "You don't want to know."

Dean's heart sank as his panic rose, "Please tell me. If your comfortable."

Y/N took a deep breath, then slowly rolled up her sleeves, revealing faded scars on her arms. Dean's breath caught in his throat as his breathing hitched. She stood up and hesitated, then pulled down the waistband of her pants to show deep, jagged scars on their thighs.

Dean reached out, his hand hovering over the scars. "Can I... Can I touch them?"

She nodded slowly, unsure of where the confidence inside her was coming from. She's never let anybody see her scars, let alone touch them but there was something about Dean. "Okay... that's fine."

His fingers brushed lightly over the scars, feeling the rough texture beneath his touch. His eyes filled with unshed tears, but he fought to keep his voice steady. "When's the last time you did this?"

Her voice was a whisper of anxiety and embarrassment, "The day of the hunt."

Dean's chest tightened with a mix of shock and concern. "Y/N... I'm so sorry. I didn't know you were struggling, but I want to help. If you ever feel this way again, please reach out to me. I'm here for you."

She smiled softly, her eyes glistening. "Thank you, Dean. That means a lot."

He nodded, his voice thick with emotion. "You're stronger than you think. I'm glad you're here with us."

Y/N seemed to relax slightly, a bit of the tension leaving her shoulders. "Can you tell me more about you? I'd like to know."

Dean chuckled softly, grateful for the change in subject. "Alright, let's see..."

He shared stories from his childhood, the antics he and Sam got up to, and some of their more light-hearted hunts. Y/N listened intently, laughing at his jokes and asking questions, her anxiety gradually easing as they talked.

As the night wore on, Dean couldn't help but feel a deeper connection to her. Her strength, despite everything she endured, drew him in. He found himself falling for her more with each passing moment, despite the promise he made not to fall in love with her.

But as he looked into her eyes, he realized that resiting his feelings might be impossible after all.

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Chapter 5 coming soon stay tuned!

Like, comment, and reblog, feedback is my fuel 💕

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester #dean x reader #supernatural one shot #dean #deanwinchester #deanxreader #spn

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johaerys-writes · 4 months

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Tagged by @figsandphiltatos thank you!!

rules: shuffle your on repeat playlist and list the first ten songs.

BLUE - Billie Eilish

Mariners Apartment Complex - Lana del Rey

Nights - Frank Ocean

BEST INTEREST- Tyler, the Creator

Bad End- Kvi Baba

World Champ - Marlon Craft

Matilda - Alt-J

Disciples- Tame Impala

Restless Sinner - Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

Take Care - Beach House

I tend to have songs on repeat when I write so my on repeat playlist is just full of those. If you've been following my writing then you can maybe tell which songs correspond to which chapter/work lol. There's also some songs that have been on that list for literally ages and never seem to go away because I simply never skip them (Frank Ocean & Lana I'm looking at you). But yeah I feel like this is a good representation of my current jams haha.

Tagging forth to (no pressure): @baejax-the-great @thiefylilelf @vimlos @gloriesunsung @juliafied @peachandfig @supernova3space @azurejacques @starshower1215 @heypax @cordelia---rose @tragediegh @knicknocknick @elveny @ca1a-liinaa @darlingpoppet @tender-wolf @voidcatofbedlam @thesingingbadger @avilynrain @badpriestessofbuttsburgh and anyone else who might like to join!

#tag game

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loki-laufeyson223 · 4 months

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The Secret

Warnings: Morning Sickness, pregnancy scare, regular (if not lighter) spn violence, tittle bit of cussin, some suggestive things........

Word Count: 2.9k

“Scarlett! Come on. Sammy’s waitin’ for us in Baby.” I flushed the toilet to wash away the last ten minutes I’d been in the bathroom for and got up off my knees from my place on the cold tile floor. The entire time I had been locked in there with morning sickness. My husband, Dean, didn’t know I was pregnant yet because I was waiting until the second trimester to tell anyone. I had a high risk pregnancy and I didn’t want to get him excited about having a baby just to lose it to a third miscarriage. I was already twelve weeks so I only had to wait two more before I told Dean. “Hold up. Lemme brush my teeth real quick Hun.” “Alright, I’m headed to the garage.”

I slid into the leather seat of the Impala, the usual scent of Dean and Sam’s cologne combined wouldn’t usually bother me but I was pregnant so of course it did. I cringed a little, enough for Dean to notice, when the smell invaded my nose. “Sweetheart? You okay?” “Yeah Dean, just a little off this mornin.” “If we need to stop you let me know. Sammy can get over it.” There was some humor in that but he was still dead serious. I nodded and gave Sam a small smile then Dean started the car and took off.

After about five hours in the car and a four hour nap, we pass the welcome sign into Sidney, Nebraska. There was a witch who was placing hex bags on people who had “done him wrong”, leading them to private yet gruesome deaths. We pulled up to the motel just on the outskirts of the town and Sam went to go get us a room. We grabbed our stuff and headed towards the door that matched the key Sam gave us while he went on a grub run. As soon as we got in the room Dean pounced on me with questions.

“Scarlett, Imma need ya’ to be serious with me.” “Ok.” “Are you okay?” “Yeah.” “Do you feel off at all? Was it a bad idea bringin you on this case?” “No. I feel just fine and also no, there was no mistake in bringing me on this case.” “Ok. I’m trusting you.” “You always can.” “Good, now come here.” There was a mischievous smile forming on his face as I rose off the bed and walked towards his spot in the small kitchen area, in front of the counter.

He grabbed my waist with a gentle touch, though Dean is one of the most famous and rough hunters known to the world we live in, he’s as harmful as a stuffed animal with me and the rest of his family. Dean turned us around so my back was to the counter and lifted me onto it. I felt his breath against the shell of my ear when he leaned in to press kisses along my neck. “Let’s hurry before Sammy gets back.”

Sam walked in thirty minutes later on Dean and I in a heated kiss. “Hey! Not in here. I was gonna set our food on that counter.” “Yeah, yeah Sammy. Always interrupting.” “Maybe don’t wait till we’re sharing a room.” Dean just scoffed and went to grab the food from Sam. We sat down to eat and when we were finished, Dean clearly wasn’t on the subject of Sam walking in when things are getting heated. I knew he wasn’t in the wrong though, Sam anyways. “Y’know you’re always killin the mood Sammy.” “Well Dean, maybe don’t wait until we’re sharing a room.” Dean whipped to me as if I was gonna be the one to defend him. “Come on Scar, help me out.” “Nope. Gotta go get dressed.” On my way to the bathroom I grab my FBI pantsuit and walk in, shutting the door with my foot.

When I walk out of the bathroom Sam and Dean are already dressed and are sitting on one of the queen beds playing bloody knuckles. God, I married a ten year old. “You two ready to go?” “Yep. I’m just tryna get your husband to give up.” Sam gave one more good punch and Dean yielded. “My day has just been made. Now we can leave.”

We pulled up to an old junkyard where we had tracked the witch to and once we were parked, Dean grabbed the dark tarp we keep in the trunk for cases like this. We pulled out the guns we already had loaded with the witch-killing bullets and made our way to the small building off to the side of the yard. It was completely surrounded by trees and kudzu. We somehow managed to work our way past the spiked plant and towards the door.

The moment we walked inside there was the sound of something shuffling around then, a figure stepped out of the shadowed corner. Though due to the dark room and only a sliver of moonlight shining through the boarded up window, we could only make out the not so grand height of the man we knew as the witch killing and taking all of the innocent lives of people who did no wrong though he claimed the opposite.

“Don't take another step.” “And if we do?” Sam’s voice boomed. “Then that girl I can presume as the wife of the great Dean Winchester, much less Scarlett Abbott, will die.” Dean went to move the gun he had out of his pocket when all of a sudden the witch nodded his head towards me then the wall.

I was flung against a nearby wall just behind the witch. A sharp pain ran through my entire body, reaching my head creating a dull ache behind my eyes. Dean stepped up, “You let her go you bastard!” “Not until she tells the little secret she’s been keeping from you and the rest of your pathetic little family.” Dean looked to me with worry edging his eyes, along with rage. “Scarlett, what’s he talking about?” “Dean, please don’t be upset with me.” “I won't, but please just tell me. What the hell’s goin on here?” “I’m pregnant.” “What?” It was so quiet it was almost never said. Then, it all went black.

Dean’s POV

“I’m pregnant.” “What?”

Those were the last words exchanged between my wife and I before the witch dropped her from the top of the wall, to the floor. She was limp, almost lifeless. “SCARLETT, NO!”. I turned to the witch then my brother. I nodded towards Scarlett, letting him know to go check on her. Once he took off, the witch turned to me with a devilish smile, laughing. “You know, by now, that baby she’s carrying is probably dead, right?”

“Lemme give you a piece of my mind. Come here!” “I think I’m good, ya know.” “If you don’t get over here right now, I’ll kill your ass.” “With what exactly?” “Witch killing bullets.” “There’s no wa-” I cut him off by aiming for his arm and firing. He looked at me with wide eyes, seeing as his magic wasn’t healing the wound. I stalked over to him and sent a right hook, breaking his nose. “That’s for my wife!”

Once he was on the floor bent over, I kicked upwards into his stomach. I swear I heard a sickly bone crunch, as if I had broken some of his ribs. Good. “Oh my God! What was that for!?” “My unborn child, you bastard.” I grabbed my gun, aiming for his head, I pulled the trigger. “That was for all the innocent lives you took.”

Sam ran up to me with Scarlett in his arms. “She’s fine. Breathing, though a little shallow, but alive.” “Good. He’s not though.” “That’s good too.” “So, are we just gonna stand here or are we gonna go to the car?” “Yeah, yep. Let’s go.”

Scarlett’s POV

I woke up in the motel with Dean sitting beside me tending to the small gashes on my arms that I had acquired at the junkyard. He immediately noticed I was up. “Hey Sweetheart, how ya feelin?” “Like I’ve been hit by Baby goin 120.”

“I bet. Hey, about what you said earlier. You thought I would be mad? You know how long we’ve waited for this to happen.” His voice was deep and strained. “Yeah well, I thought you’d be mad cause I was hiding it and to add on to that, I went on a case. Who knows, the baby could be dead.”

“Sam’s already workin on gettin Cas down here so we can see if there really is anything wrong but until then we’re stayin here, just in case. As for the hidin part, I get it. You didn’t want to disappoint me if anything happened to the baby and that’s fine. But, if

something does happen we will work through it together, like we have before. I love you and you know that I’d do anything for you and that baby, even if they haven't been born yet.”

I could feel tears blooming in my eyes and falling down my cheeks just at his words. Damn hormones. Dean brought his hand to my cheek and I could feel the heat radiating off of him. As my tears fell he wiped them away just as fast as they came. “I love you Scarlett. You know that right?” I nodded, “I love you too Dean.” It was barely a whisper and shaky.

“Do you want to shower? Sammy and I already have. I can help you if you need it.” “Yeah, I wanna shower.” “Help?” I just nodded and made the motion to get up when I felt light headed all of a sudden and I stumbled back about to fall. Dean caught me and brought me back up straight. “Woah, easy there tiger.” He bent down slightly and put one of his arms under my knees and the other on my back, pulling me into a bridal style carry and walking to the bathroom.

Dean set me down on the counter and walked over to the bath and turned back to me. “Bath or shower hun?” I shrugged and just looked at him through blurry eyes. “Bath then.” He started the bath, making sure that the water was at the right temperature before coming over to me and kneeling down. Dean untied my shoe laces removing the muddy boots then he unbuttoned my jeans.

After sliding the torn denim off my legs he stood up and removed my shirt. With the same gentle manner he helped me get rid of my underthings. Dean slowly and steadily stood me up off the counter. “C’mere babe.” Reaching out he slid his arm underneath both of mine and walked me to the bath and helped me lower myself into the warm water. “I’ll be back.”

He came back from the main part of the motel with my emergency bottles of anxiety body wash and shampoo. I always kept them in my duffle just in case we had a really bad hunt. All three of us used it from time to time. Sam even went out and bought his own.

Dean sat down on the side of the tub and began getting my hair wet. As soon as he was satisfied with his work, he grabbed the bottle of shampoo and poured enough in his hand to fully saturate my hair. Dean began massaging my scalp, pulling relieved sighs from deep in my throat.

He rinsed out the shampoo and put in some conditioner and left it to sit for a few minutes. He got up once he was finished and grabbed his phone. “I just thought of this, do you wanna listen to music?” “Yeah, sure.” One of my favorite songs, Patience by Guns N’ Roses started playing and both Dean and I began humming along to the song while Dean grabbed a washcloth and poured some of my purple lavender body wash on it.

“Lemme see your arm hun.” I raised up my right arm and Dean began washing the dirt and blood off of the bare skin. Carefully, Dean rinsed all of the conditioner out of my long blonde hair and walked over to the cabinet in the bathroom and grabbed two towels. I grabbed onto the shower wall and raised myself up. Dean handed me one of the towels and I wrapped my hair into it before grabbing the other and tying it around myself.

“Do you want to wear your sweats or t-shirt before bed?” “Zepps shirt.” “Ok. Lemme grab it real quick, I’ll be back.” I nodded and when he walked out I grabbed my hairbrush and let the towel holding the mess together loose. I made sure to fully work through every knot and tangle, making sure that I didn’t pull too hard due to the dull ache that settled in the back of my head.

Dean came back into the bathroom with his 1977 Led Zeppelin tour shirt and a fresh pair of underwear. “Do you need help with these or do you got it?” “S’ok, I got it.” “Alright Sweetheart. I’ll be out here if you need me.” I nodded and he shut the door with a soft smile.

When I walked out of the bathroom, Dean was sitting on the bed typing something out on his phone. I supposed it was Sam, hopefully with an update on Cas. “Hey Sweetheart.” Dean quirked a brow as if he somehow sensed the looming cloud of doubt over my head. “Where’s that head of yours at?” “Somewhere it shouldn’t be.” “I figured as much.” Yup, knew it.

Dean got off the bed and walked over to me. Once he reached my spot in front of the bathroom and placed his hands on my shoulders. “Darlin’, what is it?” I avoided his question with another. “Is there an update with Cas’ eta yet?” Dean shook his head and sighed, knowing he wasn’t getting anything out of me until I knew that the baby was okay and my fears had been relieved. Even then I might keep it all locked up.

“Yeah. Sammy said Cas was dealin’ with some stuff in Heaven, just helpin’ Jack out a little. He said he’d be back down here as soon as possible.” “Alright. Can we just lay down for a while then?” “Of course Sweetheart.”

Dean grabbed my hand and turned towards the bed. We walked over to the bed and Dean pulled all the covers back, adjusting a pillow for him to prop up on. Once he was fully settled, I climbed in the bed, laying down half on top, half off of my husband. Dean rubbed a gentle hand up and down my back, causing me to drift off into sleep.

Three Hours Later

Dean’s POV

I finally woke up from a well needed nap when Sam entered the motel with Cas following behind. “Hello Dean.” Cas greeted me with his usual deep and gravelly voice. He stalked over to the bed where Scarlett and I were laying. “Hey Cas.” It came out more strained than I meant. The amount of stress I’ve been holding back is killing me. I’ve been praying as hard as I can to Jack that our child is okay.

While Cas and Sam were talking about some shit going on in Heaven, I went to try and wake up Scarlett. I walked over to the bed where she was sleeping and sat down beside her. I took a moment to admire the absolute goddess in front of me. This was the woman I had the privilege to call my wife. Now she’s carrying my child and I couldn’t be more proud.

I reached out and placed my hand gingerly on her shoulder. “Sweetheart, you gotta wake up. Cas is here.” Her hazel-green eyes fluttered open and she looked up at me with a tight lipped smile. I knew she wasn’t ready for this and neither was I but I knew we both couldn’t live with the anxiety that there could possibly be something wrong with our baby. I helped her sit up and I propped up a pillow behind her so she could rest comfortably. Cas walked over to the bed with a grim look set upon his face. “Are you two ready?”

With Castiel on the right side of the bed, I rounded the bed to sit down on the left side with Scarlett. As soon as I was within her reach, she grabbed a white-knuckled hold of my right hand with her left. I ran my thumb over her solid silver wedding band letting her know that I was there with her through anything, remembering the day that I’d made the promise to love her till the day I die, all those years ago.

Cas finished his examinations, more like his grace did, with a small smile on his face. Scarlett spoke up. “Is the baby ok?” “Moreover, you’re currently pregnant with an extremely healthy baby girl.” A. What.

Scarlett’s POV

Did he just say a girl? I turned to Dean with a beaming smile on my face, his the same. “We’re havin’ a girl Sweetheart.” Dean whispered. Tears were running down both our faces, unable to contain our relief and excitement. I nodded and pulled Dean’s face closer to mine. Our foreheads pressed against one another, breathing the same intimate air. “We’re gonna be ok.” Dean leaned forward slightly to capture my lips in a short, sweet kiss. “Yeah.” He breathed. “Yeah, we are.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural

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impala-dreamer · 2 years

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Everlong - Chapter Five

A Supernatural Series

~Y/N has everything she’s ever wanted - the love of a good man, a best friend she can lean on, drama, magic, and heroics. But everyone knows, things aren’t always what they seem.~

Dean Winchester x Reader, Sam Winchester, Rowena, Castiel, Others

Chapter Five Word Count: 1051

Everlong Masterlist ~ Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist ~ Patreon ~ Published Works ~ Buy Me A Coffee ~ Feedback is Gold

Y/N hid her face from the bright kitchen lights beneath the canopy of her hoodie. She sat curled in on herself at the table, elbows mashed into the old wooden top, shoulders tight and high. Her hands were balled up and hidden inside the long, warm sleeves, her knuckles smushed into her cheeks.

A cooling mug of coffee stared at her but she ignored it, trying to piece together her dreams while straining to keep the full memory of them at bay.

Sam whistled as he entered, shocked to find her already awake and the coffee pot full.

“Morning.”

Y/N stirred and looked up with a faint smile. “Howdy.”

“Rough night?” he asked, grabbing a mug.

She shrugged. “I guess.”

Steam rose to greet him and Sam took a quick sip before rounding the table to sit across from her. He settled in and frowned at her sweatshirt.

“You stole my hoodie again, I see.”

Y/N laughed awkwardly, caught red-handed. “What? No. This is mine.” Quickly, she folded her arms across the chest to hide the giant Stanford logo.

Sam pursed his lips and shook his head. “Just don’t get anything on it.”

Y/N grinned. “I promise.”

“I don’t know why you like that so much. It’s old and thin and-”

“Feels like you.”

He startled and a blush flooded his cheeks.

“I don’t know,” she said, sighing as a confession ran free. “I had another nightmare last night and I… wanted to be close to you, I guess.”

Sam held her gaze and sighed. “I’m sorry. Keep it as long as you need.”

“Thanks.”

They sat for a long moment, hands wrapped around coffee mugs, eyes not daring to meet again.

Sam cleared his throat after counting to thirty in his head. “Do you want to talk about it? You seem really out of it the last few days.”

“Nah.” She took a sip of cold coffee and grimaced. “Maybe. I don’t know. I feel stupid. They’re just dreams.”

When she looked up again, his face was caked with blood. It dripped from a gasp at his hairline, poured from his nose, his ear. She gasped and looked away, beating the image out of her mind.

“No reason to feel stupid,” Sam assured her. “Besides, if anyone knows about disturbing dreams…” He paused and waved at himself, making her laugh gently.

“Yeah.”

“So, go on.”

The coffee was bitter and smelled like rotting wood. She held her breath and felt the hay shift beneath her feet, saw the dust particles dancing in the streaks of light inside the barn, heard the crack of bones.

“Y/N?”

Shaking herself, she focused on the cuff of her sleeve. It was thinning around the bottom and stretched out; the elastic was old and spent. She took a breath and chewed her lip.

“What did it feel like?” she asked, suddenly breaking the silence.

Sam sat up. “What did what feel like?”

“Well… You told me you used to have visions. Like, psychic visions. What did they feel like?”

He shifted, uncomfortable. “I don’t know, Y/N. That was over ten years ago…”

“Yes, but you have to remember something.” She pushed her coffee aside and set her palms down on the table, grounding herself. “These dreams feel so real, Sam. They’re not just regular, run of the mill nightmares. I’m not being chased by clowns or stuffed into a magician’s trunk… They’re real and scary and I wake up terrified.”

His brows raised and a smirk lit his pink lips. “Magician’s trunk?”

“Clowns?” She countered, shutting him up. He nodded for her to continue and she did. “They’re bloody and so intense, and they won’t go away when I wake up. I can feel them sneaking up on me like some kinda ghost in a haunted house. You know when you can feel a ghost coming on? That’s what it feels like. And then I see things… I can smell them, hear them… They’re all around me.”

Sam took a deep breath and sat back. He ran a hand through his hair and tucked it back behind his ear, thinking.

Y/N was impatient. “So?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes, dreams can linger in our subconscious. You do have a very hyperactive imagination. Maybe-”

“I’m not imagining things, Sam. I’m like…” She shook her hands in the air, unable to find the words. “Inside it. Emersed in the dream. It’s unsettling.”

He raised a palm, begging for patience. “I get it, I do.”

“Do you? I can feel blood in my mouth, Sam. I can taste it.”

A black bruise began to blossom beneath his eye and she cringed, looking quickly away lest the feeling take over.

“Look, when I had my visions, they… they were like that. Very intense, very real. But they stopped right away. Nothing lingered, nothing snuck up on me. But they were very strong, clear visions. They hurt. I felt every second of them pounding through my skull.”

Y/N huffed and hid her hands in her sleeves again, closing herself off. “Well, maybe I’m having something like that.”

Sam shook his head. “It’s unlikely. Mine stopped as soon as we killed the demon, and… well, you’re not-”

“Not special?”

“No, I don’t mean that. I mean-”

“I don’t have special demon blood powers?”

“Yes.”

“How do you know! Maybe I’m one of the special kids too. There were others, you said. Maybe-”

Again, Sam shook his head and held up a hand, calming her down. “Y/N, it’s very unlikely. I think you’re just stressed and your subconscious is leaking into daily life. I wouldn’t worry about it too much.”

She looked up from beneath the awning of her hood and felt her stomach flip. The blood was back, dripping from cuts along his face and neck; his teeth were stained with it, his shirt torn and filthy.

“Yeah,” she said softly, giving up. “You’re probably right. Just stress.”

She pushed up from the table and turned away, one foot on the bottom step before he tried again.

“Really, I wouldn’t worry too much, Y/N.”

She looked back over her shoulder and tried not to cry as the gash in his throat opened up again.

“Yeah,” she said, breathing away the bloody vision. “Thanks.”

2023 Forever Tags (Always Open! Send an Ask!)

@aditimukul @agirlwithdemonblood @amanda-teaches @akshi8278 @alwayskeepfightingsweetheart @b3autyfuldisast3r @babysimpala @beardburnsupersoldiers @because-imma-lady-assface @bloodline1632 @charred-angelwings @chenshemesh1 @cosicas-cuquis @covered-byroses @djs8891 @deanwinchesterswitch @deansyahtzee @feelmyroarrrr @foxyjwls007 @hobby27 @idreamofdeanie @ilsawasanacrobat @impalaspixie @jawritter @justcallmeasmodeus @kazsrm67 @kittenofdoomage @lovealways-j @lyarr24 @mariekoukie6661 @maggiegirl17 @mistressofallthingsgeeky @pandaxo79 @peachy-vans @roseblue373 @sacriceria @samwellwinchesterthebrave @sexyvixen7 @spideysimpossiblegirl @the-wounded-healer05 @thoughts-and-funnies @vulgar-library

@globetrotter28

#spn fanfic #series #angst #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester #everlong #c5

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lovetransaction · 1 year

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... variations on the radio

They've been in the Impala for ninety-six hours straight now. Sam's been keeping time even after their watches stopped, after the dash clock stopped; he's been adding up the duration of each song that the tape deck plays. He's on the money every single time even when the tape is something they don't know, have never listened to before; never listened to consciously, anyhow. They realize this after Dean, in the middle of a song by somebody named Loreena McKennett, says, "Wasn't this playing for that whole eleven minutes we had to hide under the counter in that new age mumbo jumbo rose quartz shop?" and Sam, thunderstruck, nods in agreement and waits for the tape to self-eject so he can check the running time.

Ninety-six hours counted in REM and Carolina Chocolate Drops and Maria Callas and Erykah Badu and once they've hit on the formula they make the connections, and it's a sort of madness, Sam thinks, to be stuck in the Impala while they recall these incidents that happened out there in the world instead of under their canopy of steel and curtains of glass, their mattress of wheels. "I don't know how much more I can take of this," Dean says in the middle of Tegan & Sara, and Sam says, "I think there's an out. I think when we hear something of our own, from inside the car, we'll be able to stop. Like it'll make a circle so we'll close whatever aural--"

"Heh heh--"

"--whatever aural as in audio loop enchantment this is." Sam listens to the next song start up, says, "this is Garbage," and before Dean can contribute what he's surely about to, clarifies, "the band."

Dean makes a disappointed sound but quiets down and they let it play while he drives past a field with some sheep, then a roadside honey stand, then a bus stop that has two old patio chairs sitting at it. "Was I there for this?" Sam asks, and Dean says, "you're never there for the garbage."

Sam's forehead gathers, smooths, gathers more thickly. "Oh-kay," he says, with a slight confused laugh that's not a laugh. "What ... what??"

"Nothing," Dean says, and his face is drawn into a tight scowl, not directed at Sam. The words of the song float into the stale, close air. Hang around in bars all night wishing I had never been born, okay. That's a sentiment they've both shared, at various times, and Sam knows, hopes, does his best to make it a fleeting one--

and give myself to anyone who wants to take me home

But that's not true, is it? Not quite. Dean gave himself, sure. He also came back with money, so many of those times, folded down in worn rolls and sometimes damp and sometimes smelling of beer and sometimes smelling of Dad and sometimes smelling of old old leather old old cum old old profession, right? The oldest. Sam's not there for that garbage, Dean's right. Seu Jorge comes on and Sam catches the tape that ejects, notes the time, throws it into the backseat to clatter among all the others. Neither of them knows Portugese and the words would be a mystery except they recognize the tune, Life on Mars, they've lived it ten times or more. Ten times more after that.

Dean's done it for a good cause, Sam knows. To keep them fed and Baby running and beds for the night. They both do things for a good cause. Sam rolls the taste of blood around in his mouth, feeling the familiar burning in his belly as the car jolts through a pothole and then he's adding his own blood to it, biting through his tongue, the familiar ever-charred retch of it--

Get in the Ring. Guns 'n' Roses is one of their tapes so Dean crows in triumph and skids the Impala over to the side of the road, throwing it in park, and the two of them dive out the doors as Slash's guitar kicks in, and Sam on his side -- the grass, Dean's the one who hits the asphalt with a muttered curse -- covers his head as the backdoor opens and cassette tapes pour out onto him. They're clattering out the other side too and Dean's giving a hoot, getting up to his feet and stomping, crunching them with his boots.

Sam stands up slower and looks over the roof as Axl's hit his mid-song rant and Sam recites along with him, "--what, you pissed off 'cause your dad gets more pussy than you?" and Dean without missing a beat shoots back the next line, "Fuck you, suck my fuckin' dick!" and Sam laughs soundlessly. Shuts the back door and gets into their rolling canopy bed, where he belongs; burning down the highway skyline as Sam watches the road, and he knows the day is coming when they'll get theirs.

Until then the wail of the guitar gets louder with Dean's fingers on the knob and Sam parts the curtain, winds down the window, month to month and week to week.

–

going to lebanon : flash creations

#going to lebanon #004 horseradish road #sam winchester #dean winchester #vetala in samarkan

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whatstruthgottodowithit · 2 years

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Heyyy, idk of ur requests are open but if they are can u please write a dean Winchester x ex girlfriend smut who is a hunter and who dean is still not over. Sam and Dean rescue her from a vampire nest and dean is angry and worried after her and she's all like "stop acting like you care" and he says something like I'll show u how much I care" + angst + kinda enemies x lovers + dark dean? + marking ; ( set in early seasons llke;1,2,3)

How Much I Care

Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Sam Winchester

Word Count: 2538 // Rating: Explicit

Summary: She doesn't think Dean cares. So he's going to show her just how wrong she is.

Tags/ Warnings: Request, Requested Fic, Kissing, Past Relationship, Breakups, Sex, Vaginal Sex, Smut, Fluff, Arguing, Makeup Sex, Heat of the Moment, Vampires, Fighting, Violence, Mentions of Dead Bodies,

Notes: requests are open but slow i gotta be writing TGHLB x

Dean Tags: @caitlin1996

Dean couldn’t focus. His mind was a blur as it had been for the past three days. He had been trying to pretend that this wasn’t bothering him, like having Y/N so close beside him didn’t make him want to abandon the hunt altogether so they could head back to the impala in a tangle of lips, tongue and teeth. But it was hard. He hadn’t seen her in months and the last time they had seen each other had been a complete blowout with her telling him they were done. Over.

He couldn’t blame her. He could never blame anyone who wanted to leave him. The only person he’d ever managed to keep around was Sam and it wasn’t as if their relationship was a bed of roses either. Still, he missed her. That’s why he’d been insistent on taking the case. Sam had offered two options, a sure-fire salt and burn or what could possibly be a vamp’s nest. They had no way of knowing if the vamp case would lead to anything but Dean had picked it anyway. Anywhere there were vamps Y/N was surely soon to follow.

‘And the other guys were found like this too?' Dean said, looking at the pallid corpse on the table in front of him. 'Yep,' the sheriff said, 'not a drop of blood in them. COD exsanguination.' 'And the girls are nowhere to be found?' Sam said, flicking through the case file in his hand.

'Apparently not,' the Sheriff shrugged, 'no one has seen or heard a thing since they went missing. Hell, one of the guys was even found ten minutes after it happened and the girl isn’t on any CCTV around the scene. I expect that's why there's such a buzz on your end. I mean three agents on one case-'

'I'm sorry three agents?' Sam asked quizzically.

'Yeah, you two and that other one, the woman. She was here not fifteen minutes ago,' he said with a shrug causing a flutter to automatically brew in Dean's stomach, 'why isn't she with you?'

'Oh, she must have come from our other office,' Dean said with a smile. The sheriff looked unsure for a moment and then nodded. Sam however threw him a momentary curious glance. They wrapped up quickly after that as the sheriff did not have much more information than what they had already managed to dig up themselves. They excused themselves and once they were out of earshot Sam piped up.

'Other office?' he asked, looking at Dean confused.

'Yeah,' Dean shrugged.

'Well, that's either another hunter or the feds. And you don't like working with either so how come you're so chill about this?' Sam asked.

'It's a big case, Sammy,' Dean said as he unlocked the door to the impala, 'maybe they can help.'

'When do you ever let anybody help?' a sweet soft voice said from behind him. He whipped around to find Y/N standing there on the pavement having appeared from the doorway of a run-down building beside the station. Dean swallowed thickly. She was eyeing him closely before her gaze fell on Sam who was watching the pair of them awkwardly.

'Hey Y/N,' Sam said as casually as he could muster, making her smile.

'Heya Sammy,' she said, coming towards them. The taller man moved around to the pavement and embraced her, his height swamping her as he brought her into his chest before allowing her to pull back. Dean's gaze never left her.

'Hi,' he said after a moment. She smiled weakly at him and nodded though she didn’t speak, not to him at least, as she looked up at Sam and started asking about the case. Sam broke into their evidence as she nodded along, matching his thoughts and fears about a vamp nest. Dean however no longer had any interest in the case. He was drinking her in. Every moment, every movement as if it was going to be ripped away from him any second like it had been before. He had been so intent on staring at her that he had barely even registered that she asked him a question until he noticed her looking at him expectantly.

'Huh?' he said as his eyes focused back on her face, now looking at him with annoyance.

'I said how about we grab something to eat? I mean if you want to work together...we don't have to but-'

'No!' Dean said a little too quickly making Sam eye him suspiciously, 'nah it's fine. I saw a diner a way up the road. We can talk there.'

'Okay,' she said, 'see ya there.'

'Yeah, see you there,' Sam said walking to his side of the car so he could climb inside. Dean followed his brother's actions and climbed in the driver's side though he was watching her as she walked away, striding up the street towards an old beat-up Cadillac parked a few cars down from where they were. As he started it up Dean felt a burning hot gaze on his face and turned his head to find Sam watching him expectantly.

‘What?’ Dean asked casually.

‘You had no idea she was going to be here?’ Sam asked, raising an eyebrow.

‘How could I?’ Dean scoffed as they took off.

‘I don’t know man,’ Sam said sceptically, ‘I mean it’s quite a big coincidence-‘

‘And that’s just what it is. A coincidence,’ Dean said sternly, signalling the end of the conversation. Sam rolled his eyes but fell quiet and they took off down the road. Dean however couldn’t help but notice the excitement inside him at the fact she was waiting just down the street.

After that, they worked on the case together. It hadn’t been easy. She seemed to be pretending like they were just colleagues and not like they’d spent every day together for years as friends before something more. It was odd. And Dean longed for things to be like they were before but he’d settle for her just being around over nothing. She was tucked in beside him, hiding from the pack of vamps in the barn in front of them. Several girls were dangling in the air, tied up and all in various states of being drained. She peered around the wall, turning back to him with a grave expression before she spoke.

‘There are six vamps,’ she said.

‘Great, three a piece,’ Dean said with a smile.

‘Don’t you think we should wait for Sam?’ she asked with concern.

‘Sammy can attack from the other side,’ he said, ‘we’ve got this you know we do.’

‘Okay fine,’ she said, raising her machete upwards so it shone in the low night light, ‘let’s do it.’

The room exploded into a blur of action. They flew around the corner, heading for vamp after vamp leaving them no time to recover from the initial shock to fight back. At some point in the frenzy, Sam appeared and soon enough they had six vamp heads laid at their feet and five girls screaming against their gags. They didn't even give themselves a moment to celebrate before they went straight into action again, un-tethering them as quickly as they were able.

‘It’s okay,’ she said, pulling the gag off the first girl she went to. She was tall and skinny, appearing to not have eaten in days. Y/N recognised her as the first girl to go missing. Y/N's heart hurt at the thought of what she had been put through, the first victim, the first tester.

‘Are they dead?’ the girl said with a sniffle Y/N undid the bindings at her wrist and ankles and held her upright.

‘Yeah, we’ve got you. They can't hurt you anymore,’ she said sympathetically.

‘No they can't,’ she agreed, ‘but I can hurt you for killing them.’

Before Y/N even had a moment to register what had happened the girl had changed, knocking her down to the floor with a wicked smile on her face as she pounced on her, her new razor-sharp fangs bared towards her neck. Y/N shrieked, pushing her as far back as she could and moving her head out of the way as she swiped at her. As soon as he heard her distress Dean’s mind clicked into action. He left the girl he had been saving and grabbed his machete, taking the final girl's head off with one clean swipe until she dropped on top of Y/N with a thud. He rushed forward, pushing the vamp off of her and pulling her out from under the dead weight. When she was upright, he watched her, assessing any damage he could find, but she shook him off pulling her leather-clad arm out of his grasp and looking away before she mumbled, ‘let’s just get the rest of them home.’

Dean nodded, trying to ignore that sinking feeling inside him as she pulled away, and followed her towards the girls who were clinging to Sam in abhorrent horror. Once they had the girls shipped off to the police station they headed back to the motel. Dean couldn’t stop checking his rearview to make sure she was okay. She didn’t look too worse for wear but she had remained quiet since the incident leading him to believe all was not as it seemed. Once they got back to the motel she climbed out of the car and Dean followed suit, though he threw Sam the keys as he headed to her room behind her. She didn't seem to notice he was heading to her room too until he blocked the door from shutting with his boot-clad foot. Y/N turned around with a scowl on her face as he stepped inside the dingy room and shut the door resting against it with his arms folded.

‘What are you doing?’ she asked incredulously as he watched her.

‘Making sure you’re alright,’ he said.

‘I’m fine Dean,’ she said as she pulled her jacket off and threw it on the floor before moving to sit on the bed so she could unlace her boots.

‘Doesn’t seem like it,’ he said.

‘What are you now the king of emotions?’ she said, kicking her shoes off.

‘No but I can tell when somethings buggin’ you,’ he reasoned, ‘and that vamp-'

‘I could handle it by myself,’ she snapped.

‘Didn’t look like it. In fact, it looked like you were on your way to becoming Vamp chow,' Dean said with a cocky smile though nerves bubbled inside him at the thought of her being hurt.

‘Well maybe if you’d waited for Sam like I said,’ she said standing up so they were face to face.

‘You didn’t need any help at first. She took us by surprise. We weren't to know,’ he said, ‘but acting like it hasn’t upset you isn't going to help.’

‘Because you’ve never pushed your feelings away huh?’ she challenged looking into his big green eyes.

'This isn't about me,' Dean scoffed.

'No, it's about you needing me to admit I needed your help. I don't know why though. You can stop pretending that you care,' she said, rolling her eyes.

'You don't think I care?' he baulked, 'I'll show you how much I care.'

And with that he grabbed her and pulled her to him, his lips crashing to hers. She stayed still for a moment before she melted into him, her arms wrapping around his neck as he moved her towards the bed. His calloused hands were everywhere he could touch, caressing the soft skin he had longed to feel for months, He wanted to take it all in, to remember every inch of her but he was scared it would be ripped away from him if the pair of them took a moment to reflect on what they were doing. Instead, he let his pants do the thinking and moved his lips to her neck, smiling against her as she moaned under his touch. It was a frenzy of clothes working each item off one another until they were just skin on skin, their hands exploring every inch of the other. He put his hand between her legs making her shiver against him as he teased through her folds before circling her sensitive bud.

'Dean,' she sighed happily pulling him back towards her so she could kiss him.

'That feel good baby?' he asked sucking on her neck hard enough that she would definitely have a bruise.

'Amazing,' she said, 'but Dean?'

'Hmm?' he said his mouth never leaving her chest.

'Fuck me?' he pulled back then. A devilish smile on his face as he moved to hover over her, his erection hot and leaking against her thigh. She watched him with excitement as he touched himself, ensuring he was at full attention before he gently eased inside her with a groan. He was in heaven. He couldn't believe how much he missed her. Even inside her, he missed her. The lonely months of longing and using his own hand somehow felt worth it now they were reconnected as one. As he chased his high he became lost in the moment until he was slamming into her, his kisses rough and frantic leaving marks in their wake. She didn't seem to mind though. In fact, she seemed to be meeting him with every thrust, her desperation as needy as his. He moved to tease her, his hand brushing against her in synchronisation with each thrust.

'Y/N I can't hold out much longer,' he said making her open her eyes. She leaned up to kiss him, taking him by surprise when he found it was gentler and slower than he had anticipated, their anger from before replaced by a neediness for the other. He was taken aback for a moment before he met her energy, rolling her onto her side. It created a new, deeper angle but Dean wasn't focused on that. He was lost in kissing her, the way her fingers knotted in his hair as he resumed teasing her clit languidly.

It had gone from an Almighty crescendo to a gentle wave and he felt himself spilling into her as she started to climax around him, her walls fluttering around his cock and taking him for everything he had. There was no dramatic collapse in exhaustion, instead they lay there watching each other. Her fingers traced down his jaw line, teasing his lips as he kissed them and then her. As he pulled out and moved to clean up she stopped him, her hand on his chest making him pause.

'Y/N,' he said a little confused.

'Don't,' she whispered opening her eyes to look at him, 'let's just have this?'

'Baby-' he said but she shook her head and tucked herself into him, his face buried in her neck as he wrapped his arms around her. It had been a whirlwind of a day. And though he wasn't sure how they had gotten to this point or what would happen after he didn't care. He missed her, so, if she wanted nothing more for him to hold her that was what he was going to do.

#my writing #dean #dean winchester x original female character #dean winchester #dean winchester fic #supernatural imagine #supernatural fic #supernatural #spn fic #how much i care

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haleskii · 1 year

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Tagged by the loveliest person * @satanlikedmymoxie * ever

Rules: shuffle your 'on repeat' playlist & post the first ten tracks, then tag ten people

#Spotify

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jinkieswouldyoulookatthis · 2 years

Text

Rolling - Chapter Two

Just a hunt fic with lots of weirdly close brother moments.

Words: 3788

Relationship: Just the brothers being weirdly close, no wincest, no smut, but this definitely qualifies as weirdcest.

Warnings: Angst.

Read it on AO3 here

Read from the beginning here

“Beginner’s luck.” Dean said, trying not to grumble but hearing it in his own voice anyway.

They’d climbed into the Impala just before dawn, the trees silhouetted against the brightening sky , Dean up front, Sam in the back, their usual places, and passed out. When the sun finally rose up high enough to shine over the tops of the trees, and right through the windows of the car, the air, still crisp and crystal clear, offered no filtering or muting of its brilliance. Dean figured they’d gotten about three and a half hours of sleep, at most, which wasn’t nearly enough but was likely to be all he got until nightfall. There was a potential case in Chicago, which was a solid ten hour drive away.

As soon as he started moving around, Dean knew it was going to be a bad day, but when Sam said that he felt fine, and actually looked like he meant it, it just turned Dean’s mood from bad to worse. He knew that some people felt fine after the first time they took ecstasy, but he had never been that lucky. Coming down off the stuff made him sullen, irritable, and kicked his natural depressive tendencies into high gear. Sam seemed to sense it and was quiet and quick to get ready to go. He was waiting in the passenger seat when Dean came back from taking a piss against a tree.

Before they got on the highway, Sam pointed to a greasy looking truckstop diner, “Food?”

“I’m not hungry.”

Sam didn’t say anything, just nodded.

“Do you want to stop?” It came out harsh and kind of accusatory.

“Not really.” Sam said.

“Then why did you mention it?” But it wasn’t really a question and Sam was smart enough to not rise to the bait. Dean couldn’t decide if that made things better or worse.

Just before noon, Dean had to pull over. The car needed gas and they both had to pee. Sam went inside to return the restroom key to the clerk, and came back with a couple of plastic wrapped sandwiches. He didn’t say anything, just handed a sandwich to Dean and proceeded to unwrap his. He ate it in what seemed like four bites.

“Why don’t you let me drive for a while?”

He almost said no, but his stomach lurched with the first bite and he decided that eating and maybe taking a quick nap might do him some good.

“Fine.” and he traded places with his brother.

Out on the road again, Dean forced himself to eat but without the distraction of driving, his mind wouldn’t shut up. Sam didn’t know, because Dean hadn’t said anything at all about it, but when the shadow person had squeezed his heart, it had also squeezed a lot of thoughts and fears to the surface. Even through the serotonin bliss of the ecstasy, it had managed to drag some of the nastier spiders up from the depths of Dean’s mind. Sam resented him for dragging him back into all this crap, and only tolerated him because he didn’t have anyone else. Not that Dean would have let him go be with someone else, not his pathetic, clingy self. Although Sam was going to leave again, it was only a matter of time. The next chance that came along, the next excuse, and Dean would be left alone with nothing but the raw hollow ache inside him that nothing seemed to fill when he was out there on his own, just another piece of garbage drifting through the world.

His head slowly slid against the window as he fell asleep, but to him it felt like he just sank beneath the surface of a pool of negativity and self hate. The dream seemed to start immediately.

“I can’t stay here, Dean. I’m leaving.” and Sam, looking sad and lost, slung his backpack over one shoulder and walked out the door. Dean was right behind him, but Sam was nowhere to be seen.

“Dean!” Sam screamed from somewhere far off.

Dean ran through an empty parking lot, down an alley, he was running along a deserted road in the middle of nowhere, through a forest and his side was cramping up, and his breath was coming in painful gasps.

“Dean!” and Sam’s voice, full of pain and fear, came from somewhere just out of sight.

Dean turned around and there was his brother, laying crumpled in the corner of a dirty warehouse, a werewolf looming over him. Dean didn’t hesitate, he put himself between Sam and the monster just as it brought its claws down. The real memory of claws tearing his flesh flickered through, and then he was the one on the floor, bleeding out, and it was Sam standing above him.

“Why did you do that? I can take care of myself, Dean.” and Sam slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked out the door, more irritated this time than sad.

Dean ran out right after him and onto a college campus with students walking everywhere. Sam was way ahead of him. Dean couldn’t catch up, there were too many people in the way.

“Dean!” Sam screamed. But everyone looked like Sam from the back, same jacket, same backpack, and he couldn’t tell which direction the shout had come from.

“Dea…!!” Sam came flying out from behind a corner and slammed into a wall, a demon slowly advancing on him. Dean had Ruby’s knife in his hand and he charged at the black-eyed son of a bitch. But it easily caught him by his throat and squeezed. Dean’s windpipe collapsed and his neck snapped. The demon dropped him like a ragdoll and Dean fell at Sam’s feet.

“I need to go, Dean. You have to let me go.” Sam said before he turned and walked off.

Dean fell into darkness and landed in a graveyard. Sam was wearing a red suit, his eyes black as coal. As Dean approached, Sam started to swell, to stretch. His face distended, features bulging as he laughed, until his skin split open and a gigantic, red, horned Devil ripped out of him like he was a tear-away suit.

“NOOOOO!!!” Dean screamed and fell to his knees.

“Stop holding me back, Dean, I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself.” Sam said defiantly as he stepped out from behind the Devil. “You need to let me go, this isn’t healthy. I’m not going to follow you around like a lovesick puppy anymore. I don’t need you.”

Dean couldn’t stop the tears from rolling down his cheeks, even though he wanted to shout, to be angry, to stop him, but his heart was ripping apart. Why couldn’t he stop him? He couldn’t stop him from leaving or from getting hurt, no matter what he did.

Sam leaned down into Dean’s face, his eyes glowing with some malevolent inner fire. “I don’t need you and I don’t want you, you’re angry and you’re corrupt and pathetic. Just a sick, sad, perverted, worthless nobody. I hate y…”

A shining blade cut through Sam’s neck, severing his head cleanly from his body.

“Dean.” Sam’s head mouthed his name.

His vision was blurring and his throat ached from holding in the scream that was trying to claw its way out of him. If he let it out, if he started screaming, he didn’t think he’d ever be able to stop.

“Dean, wake up!” Something grabbed him by the shoulder and started to shake him. His eyes snapped open and he gasped, feeling his heart pounding inside his chest.

Sam’s hand was on his shoulder, the grip a little hard, and he looked worried.

Dean breathed in sharply through his nose and then out through his mouth. His hand came up and rubbed his face. His cheeks were wet.

“Hey, are you okay? You were having a nightmare.”

“Yeah. Shit.” Dean tried to get his heart to calm the fuck down. He looked around and had to squint, the sun was shining brightly at a low enough angle the roof didn’t block it.

“Where are we?”

“I70, coming up on Triadelphia.”

“We’re halfway there?” Dean looked around again, trying to shake off the nightmare. They were pulled over to the side of a highway.

“It’s been about three hours since we switched. You just started shouting and thrashing around in your sleep.”

Dean wiped his face on his sleeve and sank back against the seat, breathing out heavily.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.”

“Okay,” Sam put the car in drive and checked his mirrors, “there’s an exit coming up with a few motels. We’re going to get a room for the night and get something real to eat. The thing in Chicago will still be there tomorrow. ” He started going and pulled back onto the road in a gap in traffic.

Dean was still trying to shake off the lingering strands of the nightmare so Sam got no argument as he took Exit 11 - 41 Dallas Pike and pulled into the Econo Lodge parking lot.

After they’d gotten settled and had taken showers, changed the clothes they’d been wearing for the last 36 hours, they found a local restaurant by a nearby truck stop called, eloquently enough, Ruttenbucks.

“Evening, fellas. I’m Chrissie. What can I get for ya?” The waitress asked. She looked to be in her thirties, with medium brown hair pulled into a high ponytail and a black tee shirt with the restaurant logo in orange over her heart. A gold wedding band with a modest diamond ring graced her left hand.

“I’ll have the Smokey Mountain Burger, medium, with fries instead of chips and a beer, whatever’s on tap. Thanks.” Dean said with a smile, the idea of a big old bacon cheeseburger making his stomach growl.

She nodded and looked at Sam.

“Uh, the pulled chicken salad with Balsamic vinaigrette.” His jaw clenched for just a second, like he could sense Dean’s eyes rolling, which they were. “And I’ll have a beer too.”

“Sure thing.”

“Thank you.” Sam said with a polite smile as she started to walk away.

“Oh, hey, Chrissie?”

She turned back towards Dean.

“Can we also get an order of the grilled pierogies with onions?” He said with a hopeful smile.

“Of course!” She said and smiled back at him before heading to the bar to put in their order. Sam saw Dean’s eyes focus on her ass before turning back to him.

Dean never failed to be Dean, he thought

Unlike the club from the night before, Sam and Dean blended in a little too well here. Everything was wood paneling and mounted deer heads and antlers. The other customers were mostly burly, redneck-types in trucker caps, camo, plaid and well-worn denim. The place had a real salt-of-the-earth vibe.

When the food came, Dean ate with gusto, his appetite obviously bouncing back and it set Sam’s mind at ease a bit, even if watching his brother eat was somewhat embarrassing. Dean had grease smeared around his mouth, his lips glistening with it, and egg yolk was dripping from the corner of his mouth. Then there was the pornographic moaning, “Mmmmm! Oh god! Mmm.”

“Dude.” Sam said.

“What?” Dean asked around a mouthful of burger. “It’s good.”

Sam gave a little shake of his head, his brow furrowing. “Use your napkin?”

“Alright Felix, don’t get your panties in a twist.” Dean finished the burger in a couple more bites, his cheeks stuffed like a squirrel, picked up his napkin and daintily patted the corners of his mouth in mock propriety as he chewed.

Sam laughed. “That is not going to cut it, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, you’re just jealous because you only had a salad. Here,” he stabbed a pierogi with his fork and held it out towards Sam, “try one of these. Come on. Try it.”

Sam wrinkled up his nose. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

“Your loss.” Dean said as he shoved the entire thing into his mouth, butter dripping down his chin.

It was Sam’s turn to roll his eyes.

***

Back in the motel room, after Dean had washed the remains of dinner off his face, he’d stretched out in bed and flipped through the meager selection of channels before finally settling on some HGTV show about flipping houses.

“Really?” Sam had asked.

“Shut up.”

But it seemed to do the trick because Sam heard soft snores coming from the other bed a few minutes later. He grabbed the remote from the bedside table and turned the tv off before rolling over and drifting off to sleep himself.

“Sam.”

It was said so quietly that it took Sam a minute to realize that it hadn’t been part of his dream. He lifted his head from the pillow and looked around the room. Dean was laying on his back, eyes scrunched closed, breathing fast and shallow.

“No.” Dean mumbled quietly, talking in his sleep.

Sam pushed up on his elbows and looked at the clock. They’d only been asleep for maybe half an hour.

“No, don't,” a little louder. Then, “Sam, no!”

“Hey, Dean.” Sam said.

“Don’t,” Dean said, and the raw fear that one word carried made Sam get up and reach out to touch Dean’s arm.

“Dean. Wake up.”

“Don’t go, Sam!” His head tossed back and forth. “Get away from him! SAM!”

Gripping his brother’s upper arm, Sam shook him. “Dean! Wake up!”

Tears were streaming out of Dean’s eyes. “No, Sammy, don’t leave.”

“Dean! I’m not leaving. I’m right here. It’s just a nightmare. Wake up.” Sam’s other hand gave a few gentle slaps to Dean’s cheek, “Come on, wake up, Dean. I’m not going anywhere.”

Dean’s eyes snapped open, “Sam?”

“Yeah, I’m right here. It’s okay, Dean. It was just a nightmare.”

Dean’s eyes blinked rapidly a few times as he looked around before settling on Sam. Sam was completely unprepared for the sudden, fierce hug that Dean pulled him into, and he almost fell on top of him on the bed.

“Whoa! It’s okay, Dean. It’s okay.” He repeated as he awkwardly hugged back. “It was just a dream.”

After a minute, Dean let go. “Shit. I’m sorry.”

Sam sat down on the side of his bed as Dean got up and swung his legs over the edge of his own, putting his feet on the floor. Dean wiped at his face.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Sam said gently, trying to walk that fine line between being caring but not too caring. He knew from long experience that moments like this were delicate for Dean. Sometimes he would open up and let his problems and fears and worries spill out between them. But if Sam pushed at all his brother would clam up tight, and whatever was bothering him would just keep festering until it leaked out again and again.

Dean looked at him and Sam could see the wheels grinding in his head. Dean looked away, looked around, looked down at his own hands. Sam just waited.

“It’s stupid.”

“Not if it’s bothering you this much.”

“It’s,” he shook his head and closed his eyes to say the rest, “it’s just old fears, I guess. Got all stirred up when that thing…” he opened his eyes, still looking down though and rubbed his chest, right over his heart. He didn’t say anything else and the silence stretched out between them.

“I’m not going to leave.” Sam finally said quietly.

Dean looked up at him and the doubt that was there for just a second, just a heartbeat, cut right through Sam. But then Dean gave a small smile (that didn’t really reach his eyes, Sam noted), nodded and stood up. Sam watched him walk to the bathroom and close the door without saying anything else.

Sam blinked his eyes, willing them to stay dry, and he swallowed down his own insecurities as they started to well up. He deserved that doubt, he knew. He had left Dean, more than once. Every chance he’d gotten, in fact, he’d cut and run. At the time, he had been blissfully unaware of anything but his own need to try whatever he could to find a normal life. But knowing now what that had done to Dean would eat away at him if he let it. Instead he took a long breath, in and out, and reaffirmed to himself that he would do whatever he had to, for as long as he had to (for the rest of his life) to make it up to Dean.

Although it took Sam a long time to unwind, once Dean was settled watching a movie on Sam’s laptop, he finally managed to get a few hours of sleep, drifting into fitful sleep sometime well after midnight. When he woke up, Dean was still awake, sitting at the little table by the window still looking at the laptop but with earbuds in so he wouldn’t disturb Sam. A steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

They didn’t talk about the nightmares. Sam got up, they both got ready to go, loading their stuff into the car, and headed for Chicago. Dean insisted on driving. He didn’t sing along with the radio, he didn’t tap out the rhythm on the steering wheel, he didn’t talk at all except when he had to, all the way to the city. The time for dealing with whatever this was would come eventually so Sam just let the silence roll on and did his best to ignore the growing dark circles under his brother’s eyes and the dimples that only appeared when he was annoyed.

The deaths in Chicago turned out to be exactly what they figured, vampires. A nest of them had set up shop and were culling victims and recruiting new members to their fang club at a bar called The Empty Bottle. They had obviously been trying to be careful, to keep a low profile, they just didn’t keep it low enough. It took about 24 hours of investigating for Sam to make the connection with the bar, and then just an hour or so in the place to spot a vamp and follow it back to the nest.

“Looks like there might be about a dozen of them. That’s not a walk in the park.” Sam said.

Just then a group of nine vampires left the nest, split into ones and twos, and wandered out, probably to hunt.

“Odds just got a lot better. I say we hit the nest now, wait around, and pick off the rest as they come back. We should have it cleared by morning.” Dean got out of the car , a cloud of trillium, saffron and skunk cabbage smoke pouring out of the car, and opened the trunk. Sam joined him, strapping a machete to his belt and loading a dart gun with dead man’s blood syringes.

They had the element of surprise, thanks in large part to the obnoxiously loud music that was banging out from the stereo and were able to take out the vampires that had stayed in the loft quickly, all at once.

“Did they really stay behind just to fuck?” Dean wondered out loud.

Sam shrugged, wiping blood from the blade of his machete onto a couch cushion next to the tangle of beheaded, naked bodies. “The others will smell the blood when they return. But the music should mask our heartbeats.”

“Great. So now we wait.” And they took up positions near the door, where they wouldn’t be seen right away and they waited in silence.

***

“That was the dumbest bunch of vamps I’ve ever seen. I don’t know how they made it this long.” Dean said as he walked into their hotel room just after dawn.

“I think they were all recently turned.”

“Which means there may be an older one around here somewhere. We should get ourselves a few states away before nightfall.”

They packed up their stuff and were headed south by 8am.

They made it to Noel, Missouri just north of the Arkansas state line by sunset and checked into a room at Arthur Murray’s Motel. Dean had made a joke about Sam taking dance lessons while they were there that Sam didn’t laugh at. The room had a rustic, mountain lodge motif and two queen-sized beds, brown leather overstuffed chairs, and all the other usual stuff, mini fridge, microwave, tiny coffee maker, dresser with a tv on it, etc..

Even though it had been a couple of days since he’d slept, and he’d only gotten a few hours of sleep before that, Dean still made a quick run out to a liquor store, loaded up on beer and a bottle of whiskey before settling in for the night. It took a six pack and about a 1/4th of the bottle of whiskey before he finally passed out just after midnight. But just minutes after his breathing had shallowed out with sleep, Sam heard a quiet, mumbled, “no.” Dean’s brow scrunched up and his head slowly shook back and forth.

Without thinking about anything other than the fact that they both needed to get some real sleep, Sam reached over and covered one of his brother’s hands with his own, applying gentle pressure. “I’m right here, Dean. I’m not leaving.”

Still sound asleep, Dean clutched at Sam’s hand with both of his.

“I’m not leaving, Dean. I’m staying right here. Get some rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

***

Dean opened his eyes slowly, blinking to clear his vision and freeing his hand so he could rub the sleep out of them. He wondered what time it was, felt like he’d been asleep for a week and he raised his head up to look around. Sam was sprawled out next to him, still sound asleep, but on Dean’s bed instead of his own. He realized that he’d had to let go of Sam’s hand when he’d moved it, that he’d been clutching onto him in his sleep.

“What the hell?” he said quietly, a barely audible grumble. He turned and looked at the clock. It was almost 11am. He didn’t remember falling asleep, he’d drunk himself into unconsciousness, hoping to escape the stupid nightmares this time. He thought back and even as his dreams were turning to vapor and wisping away he recalled one moment. Instead of running away again, Sam had come back and held onto him.

“I’ll be right here when you wake you.”

“Screw getting up,” he thought, closed his eyes again and drifted, half dozing, until Sam finally woke up.

Next Chapter --->

#spn fanfic #spn fan fiction #dean winchester #sam winchester #weirdcest #gencest #angst

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thedeadflag · 2 years

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tagged by the excellent @theconqueeror

shuffle your ‘on repeat’ playlist and post the first ten tracks:

"Cursed" - Alex & Tokyo Rose

"Ears Ring" - Rainer Maria

"Near Dark" - Droid Bishop

"I'm Not My Season" - Fleet Foxes

"M4, Pt. 2" - Faunts

"This Lamb Sells Condos" - Final Fantasy/Owen Pallett

"Black Me Out" - Against Me!

"Automatic" - Satin Jackets & Panama

"Time After Time" - Cassandra Wilson

"The Moment" - Tame impala

As far as a 10 track sample goes, it's decently representative. A good bit of funk and synthwave, some rock, and some quieter more solemn folk as I've been making may way out of winter and into spring

If anyone wants the excuse to follow suit, feel free to consider yourself tagged, I'd be curious

#music #theconqueeror

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sarah-dipitous · 2 years

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Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 28

Simon Said/New Earth

Before I start watching......I.........fucked up the schedule. The schedule is wrong. And I didn't REALIZE UNTIL NOW. I skipped a whole SEASON ONE SUPERNATURAL EPISODE so now every day is off by one. I'll fix it, but I'm not gonna be HAPPY about it (I've also bought a whole new physical planner and hopefully I don't fuck one up as well...)

Also, why is it only Sundays that I have actual plans that I have two episodes to watch? That's why this is gonna be real early.

"Simon Said"

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: I cannot shake the "The Great Game" vibes I'm getting from this opening scene, though obviously the threat is not the C4 strapped to your chest but what seems to be mind control? So...don't know that I could fight off whatever mind control is happening there, but as I've never been in SPECIFICALLY a gun store nor am I ever in the part of a store where guns are sold? It depends on who I am in this situation. Random extra? Yeah. The guy GETTING mind controlled? No.

Strangely heartwarming conversation. Dean going on about how it's not a good idea to show up to a place where there will potentially be a bunch of other hunters and announcing that Sam's a supernatural freak. Sam, worried: So I'm a freak now? Dean: You've always been a freak

Ash you, like, LIVE AT A BAR WHY ARE YOU EASILY BRIBED WITH A PBR OF ALL THINGS

They're really pushing this Dean and Jo thing, huh. Yeah, even Sam is...unimpressed by it. But like you can't just randomly put on "Can't Fight This Feeling" and go talk to the guy you halfheartedly resist flirting with when he shows up.

Yeah, you WOULD love this guy's "barbarian queen on a polar bear" van, Dean

Ohhhhhhhhh, I don't like what this implies about what happened with the girl whose apartment Andy just left...watching Dean so willingly give up the Impala like it was nothing. Like we knew this guy wasn't doing GOOD THINGS with his powers (you know, from the first five minutes) but this hammers it home.

Good on you, Sam. See? Using your powers to hopefully prevent a murder-suicide. WELL...the murder part anyway.

Oooooooooo, Sam's immune to the mind controllllllll. Hell yeah.

*DJ Khaled voice* Another one. (There's another psychic person in this town??)

Maybe he wants to...oh. Ok, I'm warming up to Andy whether I should or not. He's a nerd and a dork who "has everything he needs" who lives in a very 70s styled van, reads philosophy books, smokes all the weed...but is still potentially a skeeze. That's unconfirmed.

IT'S AN HONEST TO GOD EVIL TWIN SITUATION?? AMAZING. This guy's WAY WAY worse. "I take all my ladies here and they love it. Well, I do, so they do, too" Fuck this guy for real. I fuckin' hate this dude so much.

He's so used to getting his way at this point. KNOCK HIM THE FUCK OUT AT LEAST. Sam, get up and knock this guy out. (The twin looks like he's actually Elijah Wood's evil twin.)

Ok, that was a good fake out. Had me really worried for Dean before Andy shot his twin.

Oh...oh, Andy. He's not a skeeze. He really liked this girl and he didn't ever use his mind control on her and wanted to keep her safe...and now he's possibly gonna lose her because of something he can't help being. It's totally understandable that she's completely freaked out, but it still SUCKS.

"Been On My Mind...": The writers are pushing a Dean/Jo agenda that I'm not fully buying. I'll rent because it's kinda funny, but it's absolutely no Destiel. Oh. Nothing has actually happened between them, they're just circling each other right now.

"New Earth"

I just love that Ten takes Rose to New Earth as their very first trip together. Ten makes it up to Rose what Nine did on what she's calling their first date. TenRose is like...tooth achingly sweet. Now I remember why "Rose Tyler, I..." is so fucking devastating.

I remembered the cat people nurses...but I forgot that Cassandra was in this episode too...and probably the Face of Boe??

Yeah, I'd be grabbing some sort of weapon if Cassandra's Igor figure took it upon himself to separate me from the Doctor

"I look a bit different, but it's me" Like you're not talking to Jack Harkness (but he doesn't know that). But him dying of old age and wanting to see the Doctor one last time :'(

OMG SHE CALLED HIM GOLLUM. THAT'S EVEN MORE ACCURATE. Honestly. Every time he calls her "my lady" I hear "my precious"

The scenes where Cassandra is possessing Rose (or however the show wants to describe it) must have been so fun for Billie to film.

I wonder when we came up with "Never trust a nun. Never trust a nurse. And never trust a cat." And what would have transpired to make us come up with THAT phrase...or was it just, like, everything happening in this hospital with the nurse cat nuns.

Was worried for a second that the Doctor hadn't fully recognized the change in Rose's behavior. Like...but he was just biding his time til he was absolutely certain because Rose would CARE that these people were being exploited.

I love when Doctor Who plays up its campiness. "WHO NEEDS ARMS WHEN WE'VE GOT CLAWS" *SHNK* gorgeous. magnificent.

God. That's horrifying. Not that the lab grown humans being used to suck up every disease that comes into the hospital were freed, but that there SO. MANY.

OH....we're gonna get the scene where Cassandra possesses the Doctor soon. One of the most scenes ever. An absolute delight. David's acting is...it's so good..."he's slim. And a little bit foxy. You thought so too. I've been inside your head. You've been looking. You LIKE it." What a string of lines they made him say!!

(Poor Chip...he didn't deserve that)

Oh. The Doctor's excitement when he cures all the people that the nurses had lab grown. I'm...it's so wholesome.

DON'T MAKE ME FEEL SAD ABOUT HER. AND YET. Omg...is Chipssandra going to be the last person to call her beautiful? They're gonna make me cry over the bitchy trampoline.

#hellsite nostalgia tour 2023 #i forgot how much i loved new earth #also adding to the format #do we like having the episode titles above the read more? I like it #which I recognize is the most important bit #since I’m doing this project…for…me?

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maximuswolf · 3 months

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Mastering the Album Cover

Mastering the Album Cover What bands/artists do you believe to have mastered the album cover? I listen to mostly rock, but I will give my thoughts on who I think mastered the album cover and will tell you what artwork made me choose them.Pink Floyd (Dark Side of the Moon, Wish You Were Here, The Wall, Meddle, Animals, The Division Bell, Atom Heart Mother)Led Zeppelin (Led Zeppelin III, Led Zeppelin IV, Houses of the Holy)Rush (Rush Album, 2112, Hemispheres, Moving Pictures, Signals, Hold Your Fire,David Bowie (Aladdin Sane, The Man Who Sold The World, Blackstar, Station To Station, Low, "Heroes")The Beatles (Sgt. Pepper, Abbey Road, Rubber Soul, White Album, Revolver)Boston (Boston Album, Don't Look Back, Third Stage)Nirvana (Nevermind, In Utero)Yes (Close to the Edge, Fragile, 90125)Radiohead (OK Computer, Kid A, In Rainbows)Foo Fighters (The Colour And The Shape, There Is Nothing Left To lose, One By One, 'Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace')Jethro Tull (Aqualung, Thick as a Brick)Tame Impala (Currents, The Slow Rush)Tyler, The Creator (Flower Boy, CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST: The Estate Sale)Pearl Jam (Ten, Vitalogy)King Crimson (In The Court Of The Crimson King- more than enough to get them on my list. One of the best if not the greatest album artwork ever made)Joy Division (Unknown Pleasures)Red Hot Chili Peppers (Blood Sugar Sex Magik, Californication, Stadium Arcadium)AC/DC (Back In Black, Highway to Hell)Guns N' Roses (Appetite For Destruction)Arctic Monkeys (AM)Queen (Jazz, A Night At The Opera, Hot Spaces)Jimi Hendrix (Are You Experienced, Electric LadylandVan Halen (Van Halen Album, 1984, Van Halen II)The Rolling Stones (Let It Bleed, Aftermath, Sticky Fingers)Black Sabbath (Paranoid, Master of Reality, Heaven and Hell) Submitted July 08, 2024 at 05:31AM by Tid3OnYT https://ift.tt/dQSwt0c via /r/Music

#IFTTT #reddit

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reidsaurora · 3 years

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"Chickenpox" ~ D. Winchester

Summary: During a hunt, Dean catches chickenpox, leaving Y/N to play the role of his doctor until he gets better.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x GN!Reader

Word Count: 2,587

Content Warning: very mild swearing, mild sexual humor

Genre: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, mutual pining

Extra Notes: i'm literally just hoping that i got the medicine dosage correctly so if it isn't, pls forgive me bc google was not helpful at all…

Based On The Prompt: "Person B is sick and Person A has to take care of them. For the sake of keeping with the 'Patient/Doctor' theme the two of them have going, Person A wants to use a stethoscope, but Person B keeps coming up with excuses as to why Person A can't use a stethoscope, because they don't want Person A to hear their heart pounding."

Originally Written: 10/19/2021

Supernatural masterlist can be found here!

════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Leave it to Dean to catch chickenpox in the middle of a hunt…

We were on our hunt for Flora, the Roman goddess. Oddly enough, she had been haunting the Portland Rose Festival in Portland, Oregon, which just so happened to take place a few days after the Ancient Romans would celebrate Flora at their rose festival.

Luckily, Sam and I both had chickenpox as kids so there really wasn't a chance of us getting it from him. Strangely, Sam and I both had it the same weekend when we were about ten. We had been staying in a motel together when my mom and their dad went on a hunt together and somehow, we both caught it. I blamed it on Dean for taking us to the arcade when we were supposed to be at the motel.

It never made sense to me that Dean didn't catch it from us. But alas, he didn't, and now somehow he had caught it during our hunt.

Luckily, he had already had it for a few days, so he was almost over it.

Not so luckily, however, he decided he wanted me to pretend to be a doctor after he referred to me as "Dr. Y/N." So, I had to look through all his costumes and disguises and finally found a doctor's coat and stethoscope to appease him.

Weirdly enough though, he refused to let me actually use the stethoscope. He kept claiming that I could use it for a prop and nothing more. Not that I knew what I was listening for anyway.

"Dr. Y/N!" Dean called from his bed.

"Yes, Dean?" I asked, slightly annoyed because this was the fourth time in ten minutes that he had called for me.

"Nurse Sam isn't being very polite," he said.

"Sam," I scolded.

Sam held up his hands. "In my defense, he asked me to change his socks."

This time, I scolded Dean. "Dean, why would you do that?"

"My socks were sweaty and I didn't feel good enough to get them on my own."

"Really? Because you sure felt good enough to get up and fix the last of the cereal."

"Boys!" I interrupted. "I will take care of him. You can go and replenish your cereal stock."

"Okay, Mom," Sam replied, his voice laced with sarcasm. He picked up the Impala keys from the table and walked toward the door.

"Can you check and see if they have any Motrin tablets this time?" I called over to him.

"Sure thing," he answered, walking out the door. He didn't say it but I was sure he was happy to finally get five minutes peace away from Dean.

I walked over to Dean's bag, quickly looking through his clothes for a pair of socks.

"Can you make sure they're the fuzzy ones?"

The things I do for this man just because he's sick…

I went back over to Dean, sliding off his old socks (I shudder at the thought) and slipping the new ones on.

"And can you make me some soup?" he said with a pleading look on his face.

I stood with my hands on my hips. "Can you think of anything else you want me to do? Maybe wash Baby when Sam gets back? Or move the TV nine paces to the right for ya?"

He pouted. "You don't have to be mean about it."

"Look, Dean, I really am trying to be as nice as I can throughout this situation, but you have been so needy this past week. The first few days I can understand, but you are on day six of being sick and you act like you're dying."

His attitude changed when I said this. "I'm sorry. I haven't meant to be so annoying. Well, towards Sam I did, but never to you."

Typical Dean, trying to see just how many of Sam's buttons he could push at one time.

Just then, the alarm clock on his bedside table started to go off, signaling that it was time for his medicines and to check his fever again.

"Alright, time for your Motrin," I told him.

"You have to put on the coat first," he instructed.

I walked over to the kitchen where my coat was hanging over a chair. "Will you at least let me use the stethoscope this time?" I asked, grabbing it from the table.

"Why are you so obsessed with using the stethoscope?"

As I walked back over to him, I said, "Because it'll make me feel more in character." I grabbed the thermometer from the nightstand before instructing him, "Open up."

He opened his mouth and stuck the thermometer under his tongue for a few seconds, waiting on the "beep". After it finally did, he opened his mouth, waiting for me to give him the answer.

"101.2, it's gone down a little bit," I said, placing the thermometer back on the nightstand. "Time for your medicine."

Unfortunately, the store only had kids' Motrin, and you can imagine how hard it had been to get Dean to take it. I mean, at his size, he was taking almost an entire shot glass full of Motrin, so I can't say I blamed him for complaining.

Yes, Dean did in fact own a novelty shot glass with measurements on the side of it. And yes, we were indeed using it as a measuring cup.

"Do I have to?" he complained. I couldn't understand why he complained though. This was the same man that drank purple nurple shots for fun.

"Do you wanna get rid of your fever or not?" I asked with my arms crossed.

He thought for a moment before saying, "If I have to take that, I'd rather just have a fever."

I rolled my eyes as I poured the medicine into the shot glass. As I turned to give him his medicine, he tightly shut his mouth.

"Dean, open up," I demanded.

He shook his head in response.

I already knew how to get him to talk, though. "Hey, Dean, what's your favorite band?" I asked.

"Probably Zep -"

I cut him off by shoving the medicine into his mouth.

He responded with an offended look. After swallowing, he said, "That's just rude."

"I can't help if you'll leap at any opportunity to talk about Led Zeppelin. I had to find some way to get you to take it."

He rolled his eyes in response before situating himself in the bed. He already knew what was next, "calamine time" as he kept referring to it.

Dean loved any reason to get a back massage and the chickenpox was just giving him all the more reason to get one every six hours with his medicine. He practically threw his shirt off every time it was time for him to get it.

I tried not to say anything though, because I remembered how bad my back itched when I had chickenpox. I tried not to complain at all really, because when I had it, Sam had it too so Dean was stuck being the doctor to two of us at one time.

"Be sure to get right in between my shoulder blades," he instructed.

"Sure thing, your highness," I joked, squirting a small amount of the lotion into my palm.

I rubbed the lotion onto his back for a few minutes in silence. He seemed as though he wanted to say something, but never did. I felt like I should've said something too, but never did because I didn't quite know what it was I wanted to say.

I mean, I wanted to make a comment about how attractive his back muscles were, but I felt like now wasn't the time to bring that up.

"That feels nice," he sighed once I was almost finished. I was sure that wasn't what he wanted to say before, but I took it because it had been the first time in days that Dean had been silent and it felt weird for him to not say anything.

I got up from the bed as he scooted back toward his original position. "I'm gonna go wash my hands and grab you another shirt."

He nodded in response, going back to watching TV.

Once I walked back over with his shirt, I looked at him with a pleading look. "Are you sure I can't use the stethoscope?"

"Yes."

"Please?"

"No way."

"Don't tell me it doesn't work. Surely, all your props work," I rebutted.

His response was a straight-faced stare.

"Dean, please?" I begged.

"If I let you use it, will you shut up and never ask again?"

Without even thinking, I answered "Yes." Though I knew it wasn't true. I'd probably never let this go.

He rolled his eyes as he put on the shirt I had handed him. Led Zeppelin merch that he claimed brought him good luck. He had worn it just about everyday that he'd been sick, claiming that it would heal him quicker. The only time he'd taken it off was for me to take it to the laundromat and wash it every other day.

I sat down next to him in the bed before lifting the stethoscope up to his chest. Though when I did, his face seemed to turn pink and he attempted to swat my hand away.

"Dean, you promised," I pointed out.

"I'm sorry, I'm just a little uncomfortable with your hand being so close to my chest."

"Things I never thought Dean Winchester would say to a female," I said.

He rolled his eyes again before putting his hand down. His face was still flushed though.

It didn't take me long to figure out why, though. When I placed the stethoscope over his heart, it sounded as though it was going to fly out of his chest.

Initially, I freaked out, thinking he was having heart palpitations and that I needed to take him to the hospital. But then, between his initial reaction and the blushing, I figured out not only why his heart was beating so fast, but also why he didn't want me near him with the stethoscope in the first place.

"Dean," I started, looking at him with a serious look.

"What?" he attempted to play innocent.

"Is there a reason you didn't want me to use the stethoscope?"

He paused for a second. "Because I didn't want to contaminate it with my chickenpox?"

"If I make you feel flustered, you could've just said so," I joked.

Ever since I reached high school, Dean and I always had this ongoing "fake flirting" joke between us. It started as a way for Dean to annoy Sam, since Sam and I were like twins (like, we were born just days apart and even had joint birthday parties a couple times), and Dean wanted to find any way he could to finally be involved in our close friendship. Though at some point, I started to wonder if I was faking anymore. I had wondered for a while if Dean was faking anymore too, but since he often hooked up with other girls and never pursued me, I came to the conclusion that it was just some stupid joke.

Until that moment, anyway.

"What? You do not make me feel flustered," he argued, stuttering half of his words.

"Interesting… then why did you tense up so much while I was massaging you and your face went completely red just now?"

"Because my muscles are sore and because it's hot in here," he attempted to explain himself. Though his second answer didn't end up working because as soon as he said it, he started to shiver.

"Mhm."

"Seriously, you're like a kid to me. That'd be so weird."

"You are aware that I am old enough to legally drink alcohol and would've graduated college like three weeks ago if I had finished, right?"

"Listen, I know you just turned twenty-three, but I refuse to believe you're a day older than eleven."

"Aww, is someone afraid of me and Sam getting old?" I teased.

"Hell no, I'm afraid of me getting old! I'm gonna be twenty-eight in January."

"Dean, that's in eight months," I pointed out.

"Doesn't make me feel any better," he replied.

"Why don't you just come out and say it?"

"Say what?"

"That you like me."

"Y/N, I do not like you. And besides, even if I did, which I don't, I don't think your mother would approve of me," he said, before shuddering, "Your mom scares me."

She scared me too, to be honest. She took on an entire pack of werewolves by herself and came out unscathed. Imagine what she'd do if I ever dated a guy she didn't like.

"Oh, sure, because your entire life revolves around my mom's approval."

"Would you guys just stop flirting and kiss already?! The sexual tension in this room would make a prostitute uncomfortable," Sam complained. When did he get back? And how was he so quiet about it?

And so, Dean did exactly that. He grabbed me by the face and placed his lips against mine. Though, I wished he'd had time to eat a breath mint or brush his teeth beforehand, seeing as he tasted like crappy medicine. But I still enjoyed it nonetheless. I enjoyed it so much that when he attempted to pull away, I pulled him back in for another.

"OK, that's enough," Sam spoke.

"Hey, you asked for it, Sammy," Dean said with a chuckle. Why was his voice so attractive when he was sick? Why did it have to be so deep and raspy and attractive?

"Did you find any Motrin tablets?" I asked, walking over to the table by where Sam was standing.

"No, but they did have Advil, and I brought back your favorite," he held up a box of Honey Nut Cheerios.

"Oh, they had them this time!" I shouted in excitement.

Apparently this town sold out of everything when people were in town for the Rose Festival because they had neither Motrin, Advil, or Cheerios when we went the first time.

I continued to help Sam put up the rest of his small stock of groceries after taking the box of Cheerios from him.

"Raisin Bran?" I winced at the thought. Arguably the worst cereal ever and Health Boy brings home a family-sized box of it.

"Hey, at least I know Dean won't steal any of my cereal," he replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"I love my Winchester boys," I thought, smiling internally.

As I finished putting up the rest of the groceries, I heard Dean say, "Dr. Y/N, do you think you could put some more calamine on my back?"

"OK, well first of all, we literally just put some on not ten minutes ago. Second of all, why not ask Nurse Sam? I've been doing most of the 'taking care of you' around here. Give me a break."

"Yeah, Nurse Sam isn't putting anything on his back," Sam argued.

"Plus, Calamine Time isn't as fun without you around."

"Dean, if you ever get sick again, I'm going to rip out your entire immune system so you can't get sick anymore."

"Nurse Sam, Dr. Y/N is being mean to me," Dean whined.

Sam and I exchanged a look before laughing amongst ourselves.

Dean was such a baby, but after that day, he was my baby. And to think, it only took him thirteen years of knowing him and a round of chickenpox to admit it…

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idreamofhazel · 2 years

Text

The Boyking-Chapter 14

A huntress has set out to end the reign of the new king of hell. But killing a Winchester is never easy, and she might find that Sam isn’t who she thought he was…

Masterpost here.

Chapter Warnings: Show-typical gore, blood, injury. Cursing.

A/N: Beta’d by @impala-dreamer (She allowed me to keep the cliffhanger at the end :P)

By sunset, the cleanup of the crime scene had been completed, and the neighborhood had returned to its quiet self, the pair of out-of-place hunters now the only reminder of what had occurred earlier that day.

The pair stood on the porch of the house that couldn’t have had more than two bedrooms and whose muted yellow siding had seen better days. Dean knocked on the white storm door and waited with no response.

He raised his fist to knock again when a woman’s face peered from in between white plastic blinds that hung on the chipped, gray front door. The porch light wasn’t on and there didn’t seem to be any lights on inside either. It was hard to make out the blonde woman’s face inside the dark home.

Dean flashed his badge, and the woman disappeared.

“We’re looking for Travis,” Dean called to the woman.

There was continued silence until the click of a lock was heard. The woman cracked open the door and more of her was visible. Dark circles hung under her eyes and tangled threads of denim hung from the hem of her shorts. Her gray t-shirt was wrinkled–not like it had been left in the dryer for too long, but like it had been worn for too many days and nights.

“He’s not here,” she said without intonation or eye contact with either of the hunters.

“Could you tell us where he is right now?” Dallas asked kindly.

“He’s at work.”

Dean and Dallas glanced at each other.

Dean responded, “The police department told us he works at the car garage on Fifth, yeah? I didn’t think they were open this late.”

The woman’s tired, blue eyes widened, and she shrunk back further behind the door. “His boss asked him to finish an extra job,” she said flatly, hiding whatever emotion she had let slip through a moment ago.

“Alright,” Dean nodded. “We’ll pay him a visit there.”

The woman’s face turned pale, and she shut the door before any more words were spoken. The locks clicked into place once again, leaving Dean and Dallas to communicate their uneasiness about the woman’s behavior through knowing glances. They silently walked off the porch and towards the Impala to head to the garage where Travis worked.

“I didn’t like the way she looked,” Dallas said as Dean drove them away.

“I can’t tell if she’s covering for him or scared of him.”

“Or both,” Dallas said, her voice lowering.

“If he’s at the garage, he’s probably hiding out.”

“I think she didn’t expect us to take the bait.”

Dean sighed. “Let’s just catch this guy before he can hurt her or anyone else.”

In less than ten minutes, they arrived in front of a cinder block building whose dirty-white paint had been flaking for some time. Dallas could see an entrance on the left side and to the right, three garage doors, once painted green but chipped and fading like the rest of the building. A sign on the entrance was turned to closed and all three garage doors were lowered. From the side of the street, Dean and Dallas could make out lines of light shining from underneath the garage doors.

They got out of the car, checking around the building for any more exits and finding none before they attempted an entrance.

They walked up to the first garage door. Dean squatted, sticking his hands in the narrow space under the door and lifted. There was no point in remaining quiet. Any attempts at entry would be heard by Travis. The door rose about an inch before stopping, caught by a chain locked to a hook in the ground.

He turned to Dallas. “Bolt cutters. Trunk.”

She nodded and ran back to the Impala, wasting no time as Travis would know someone was outside now. She lifted the trunk hood and found the tool quickly, its large size and red handles easy to spot amongst knives and guns. She slammed the trunk closed and hurried back.

With Dean holding the door open, she positioned herself with the bolt cutters on the chain, shifting her feet for leverage. She sucked in a breath and then released it as she pushed the handles of the cutters together. The chain snapped in one, clean cut, and she stepped back, admiring her work.

Dean lifted the garage door with a grinding, reverberating sound as it slid up the rail and locked into place above them. Dallas held onto the bolt cutters as Dean took out his pistol that they loaded with silver bullets back in the motel.

Inside were three bays, the far one with a two-door sedan occupying it. There was a tool bench along the back wall for each bay with metal shelves serving as walls in between each workspace. Clutter–tools, oil, grease, and other machines–occupied just about every space except for where cars would pull in.

The space wasn’t open, but it wasn’t full of hiding places either, and yet they couldn’t see Travis anywhere.

Dean signaled with a nod of his head that he was going right, so Dallas went left. A locked door stood between her and the office. She raised the bolt cutter in the air and came down hard on the doorknob, knocking it off the door. It dropped to the ground with a clang of metal on concrete. Dallas pushed the door open and walked through the doorway.

She turned her head to the right and saw a cluttered counter decorated with an ancient PC and loose papers. She then looked to the left and found three cracking leather chairs near the entrance for patrons. She walked towards the front door, peering out to make sure Travis hadn’t escaped. The streets were empty. She glanced down at the stacks of magazines on a table, the outfits on the covers telling her the owner hadn’t updated the reading materials since she’d been in high school.

Something behind her fell to the linoleum floor with a soft tap. She whipped around but saw nobody and nothing amiss.

A shot was fired from the garage area. Her stomach dropped and she bolted back through the doorway, dropping the tool in her hands onto the ground and swapping it for her own pistol from her waistband.

She looked around, gun held up, but couldn’t see Dean, or Travis, anywhere.

“Dean!” She called out.

Travis answered, stalking out from behind a set of shelves in werewolf form—his claws extended, extra hair on his face and fingernails grown out. Dallas’ blood turned a combination of blazing hot and ice cold—excitement and caution vying for dominance. She pointed the pistol at Travis.

“We just want to talk,” she said, her voice level and steady.

Travis wasn’t interested in talking. He lunged forward and, without any thought at all, she pulled the trigger, landing a bullet right where she meant it—in his left thigh.

Travis was stunned but not dead. He paused and for a second Dallas believed he’d stopped. But the injury only made Travis more angry. He growled, and Dallas opened her mouth to say something else. Dean appeared from behind Travis, standing, fine, and Travis rushed towards her again.

She had no time to think even though that’s all she’d wanted to do—to stop this man from sentencing himself to death, to somehow reason with him, understand what had happened to him. But, staring into the man’s feral eyes, completely black and void of any humanity in this moment as he neared her, Dallas knew in her gut it was her or him. Selfishly, she’d have to choose herself. Every time.

Dallas pulled the trigger again aiming for his heart. It landed true, and Travis fell to the ground inches from Dallas.

Dallas looked up at Dean who was relieved, impressed even, as he met her face. She stared back down at Travis, her face hard, feeling an uncomfortable combination of disappointment and relief.

Then, without warning, she felt a weight slam into her body from her left side so hard she was thrown sideways into the second bay, her gun flying from her hand. She landed on the unforgiving concrete, sliding a few inches before stopping. Her uninjured arm took most of the brunt of the fall, as did her head. A headache quickly formed on the back of her skull, radiating forward as she managed to look up.

Travis’ girlfriend stood where Dallas had been seconds before, poised for an attack. Where there had been dark circles before, there was now an uncanny alertness in the woman’s eyes. Her clothes were still disheveled, her hair unbrushed, but color and life had returned to her skin. And now she, too, had claws.

Dean pulled up his gun again and Dallas panicked. Through the ache in her head and the nausea swirling in her gut, she managed to call out to the woman. “Stop! We don’t want to hurt you!” It came out more desperate than she had wanted it to sound.

Dallas wasn’t entirely sure what she’d say next. All she knew was a painful, nagging sensation was pulling at her heart—the same sensation that had haunted her nearly every damn hunt. The same sensation that had caused her to pause before killing Travis.

Travis’ girlfriend didn’t seem to care that Dallas was trying to save her. “You killed Travis,” she snarled, deep and painful, eyes on Dean’s aim.

“We- we didn’t want to,” Dallas managed to choke out. Dean’s eyes snapped to her—surprised, questioning, concerned—but he said nothing. She continued. “But he killed people. He was going to kill us.”

“He didn’t want to!” The blonde shouted, now towards Dallas. “It’s not our fault!”

“Can’t blame the dog who bit you,” Dean stated, unneeded sarcasm lacing his tone. “Time to own up, sweetheart.”

“NO,” the woman spat, and Dallas winced. “It was a demon! They said they would help us control our powers but it got worse! We were supposed to make a third one, a third one of us, but Travis… we couldn’t get it right.” The woman sounded sadder but did not let that get in the way of her anger. She still stood ready to pounce.

A demon? Dallas wondered to herself. Making another one? Is that why the man from earlier still had his heart? Was he supposed to have been another werewolf? She wanted to ask but… she didn’t know what to say. She remained on the ground, afraid that if she moved or said the wrong thing, she’d set off the chain of events leading to another unnecessary death.

Dean, however, was not afraid. Rather, he seemed eager to tip the dominos over.

“Your boy toy here was a murderer. Seems like he got what was coming to him.” He smirked.

Dallas stared at Dean, mouth agape, wondering how he thought that any of what he had said was helpful. Then she blinked, and the woman lunged at Dean, faster than Dallas had ever seen a werewolf move before. She barely had time to register that it had happened before she heard the impact and a shot from Dean’s gun rang out. Then they both hit the ground.

Dallas stood, running over to the pile, ignoring her pounding head and the scrapes on her arms, stinging now that some of her adrenaline had worn off.

The werewolf was on top of Dean. He groaned but didn’t move. Dallas got on her knees next to them and shoved the woman off of Dean, rolling her onto the floor next to him. As she landed face up, she was lifeless, a clean bullet hole where her heart was. Dallas returned her attention to Dean, and her heart dropped in her chest.

Somehow, in the second it took the woman to jump at Dean and for him to land his shot, she had gotten one, good, deep swipe at his chest. Four claw marks ran deep in the hunter’s skin—too deep. With the weight of the extra body gone, blood began seeping out of the cuts, blooms of deep red crawling across his torn shirt.

Dallas pressed her palms to the injury, the pressure doing little to control the damage. Her head went woozy, her hands became slippery and wet, as she tried to think about what to do next, about where her phone was, how she needed help, how she would explain the bodies to police, if there would be three instead of two. Another preventable death, literally and symbolically on her hands.

She scrambled in her mind to think of a plan, but all she managed was a soft, desperate, “Fuck.”

#the boyking #sam winchester fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #boyking!sam #oc x sam winchester

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sarija · 3 years

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@expectingtofly @starrynightdeancas

Here's my first ever written fanfic as a gift for @expectingtofly who never received her original gift from starrynightdeancas gift exchange. Enjoy 🙂

Words: 3657

Notes at the end of this post!

Home

“So I guess the question is,” Bobby asks, “What're ya gonna do now, Dean?”

Dean looks at baby, considering. He smiles back at Bobby and answers, “Well, I gotta go for a drive.”

After about ten miles, Dean pulls over. There's a lookout just a few steps from the road, and he follows the trail to the end, feeling overwhelmed by the info Bobby has given him. Cas is here. He helped Jack rebuilding Heaven. He remembers the last time he'd seen Cas. He would have given everything to see him again, to get him back, but all the efforts he and Sam had tried on Earth were useless. Now, there's a good chance he might see Cas again and he has no idea what to say to him.

At this moment, he feels the presence of someone beside him. Anxiously he turns around. For a moment, he hopes to see Cas, but instead, it's Jack and a warm feeling of relief washes over him. He doesn't know if he's ready just yet.

“Jack!” He exclaims, pulling Jack into a tight hug. “It's so good to see you, kid!”

Jack hugs him back, clapping him on the back before freeing himself. “Hey, Dean. It's good to see you too. I'm sorry I couldn't intervene...but I'm glad you are here.” Dean just shakes his head.

“You know, kid, Sam and I had an agreement of going down smashing, and this I did. I … I have no resentments over this.”

Jack offers him a short nod before saying, “Dean, I think there's someone who wants to see you. Are you ready?”

Dean then notices a figure standing way back, beside one of the bushes. He is ready. He has to be. He's been waiting so long to see him again, he can't even believe that he doubted he was ready in the first place. Dean swallows back a big lump in his throat. He walks a few steps. There he is. Just beside a big flowerbed, bees humming around busily, Dean sees him standing in the glow of the setting sun. He lets his eyes wander from the well-known boots upwards, over the hem of this trenchcoat he missed so damn much. The coat is glistening in the sunlight, it looks like it's giving off a light of itself. Over the blue tie, upwards, over the 5-o'clock beard, then those soft lips, further to these warm and blue eyes, deep like the ocean, light as a cloudless sky. And Cas is looking back at him, wondering, tilting his head just a little, the way he always did, back then when they were on Earth. Dean doesn't feel the single tear running down his cheek, he doesn't see Jack looking happily at him, he can only see Cas, standing there in the sun, looking like the most beautiful being he's ever seen in his whole life. Cas, his friend, his family, his angel and most importantly – the love of his life.

He steps forward slowly, afraid that this is just a dream, one of those damned dreams he's had over the weeks after Cas had been gone, had thrown himself into the Empty. In his dreams, Cas was there, waiting for him, but all of a sudden, he'd be gone, swallowed up by a big nothingness, or bursting out in flames and screaming in pain, or saying 'I love you, Dean' but retreating while Dean wanted to get to him, to hug him, to hold him, until his angel was gone and away.

But Cas is still there, smiling now, looking at Dean with his amazingly blue eyes. He lifts his hands and whispers “Dean” and Dean can't keep it any longer. He takes the last steps in a few fast strides and falls into Cas' arms, pulling him into a tight hug and crying silent tears onto his shoulder. Cas starts stroking his hair, softly, hushing and repeating all over “It's okay, Dean” until they both break apart. Dean doesn't want to let go of Cas, he holds his arms, looks at him over and over, but he can't find the words to describe how much this means to him. So he just stands there, breathing heavily, watching him, until he feels Cas' hand upon his cheeks, wiping away the tears on Dean's face. And all of a sudden, Dean knows there's no need to hold anything back anymore, there's no need to hide anything, because there's nothing here to threaten them. Nothing is going to take Cas away ever again.

Dean swallows, clears his throat.

“Cas... I …You ... How?” is all he manages.

Cas shakes his head. “I'll tell you later. We've got all the time in the world now.” He looks at Jack, who is still standing a little way behind them, smiling. “Now, who wants to have some dinner?”

They take the Impala to drive to Cas' place. While Dean is driving, he's absurdly aware of Cas sitting beside him in the passenger's seat. He even feels the intensity of Cas' eyes upon him, until he finally blurts out, “Hey buddy, it's good to see you too but – could you please stop staring at me? I'm not a freak show, y'know?” At that, Jack snorts loudly in the back, clapping Dean on his shoulder. He doesn't say anything else, but Dean knows that he's enjoying this moment as much as he is. He sends a small smile to Jack and Cas, but Cas has turned his face away from him, looking out of the window instead, chin in his hand. For a moment, Dean worries if his words had hurt the angel. This would be the last thing he'd want to do, especially on the first day of meeting him again. He wonders if he should say something, anything, to make sure everything's fine. But what should he say? Tell him he didn't mean it? He never was a man of apologies, and Cas knows that. He just wanted him to look away, cause his staring was so freaking distracting. He wants to return his gaze, he wants to never stop looking into those amazing eyes, eyes that had seen so much, eyes that had looked so worried at times, Dean almost couldn't even bare it. He wants Cas to be happy, to smile, to forget the bad stuff he'd lived through. And now he'd said something that hurt him. Why was it so hard to just take it back? He never knew, cause right at this moment Jack spoke up.

“It's the light blue house over there, Dean. Just drive up to the front, there's a parking spot for you beside Cas' car.”

Dean drives as being told, parking beside a yellow-brown-ish '78 Lincoln Continental. He recognizes it instantly, it's the same car Cas had been using whenever he wanted to get something done on his own, and Cas had always seemed pretty fond of it. It brings back a lot of memories and Dean starts smiling involuntary.

They get out of Dean's car and step up the front porch. Cas takes the lead, opening the white door for them, welcoming both into his home. Dean risks a quick glance at him before entering. Cas doesn't seem to be hurt anymore, he looks pleased and happy. And Dean thinks he understands why.

Dean enters the hallway, looking around and taking in as many details as he can. There is a kitchen to his right, with wooden fronts and very clean. Right ahead there's an arc, decorated with roses in different colours – red, white, yellow, lilac and pale blue. They are rooted in two pink flower pots, one on either side of the arc. To his left are two wooden doors. He guesses that one would probably lead to the bathroom, the other one he's got no idea. They walk through the arc, entering a really big living room, bright and clear. The windows here let the sun warm up the room just enough to feel right, and the light-colored furniture reflects rays of sunshine without blinding them. 'It's perfect', Dean thinks to himself, wondering where Cas got those pictures of them and Sam in the bunker. One of the photos shows them with their hands on one another's shoulders, smiling into the camera. Dean can see his own forced smile, dark circles under wary looking eyes. He takes the photograph of it's shelf, looking at him, Cas and Sam. Sammy. He's looking back at him out of the picture, smiling and waving and looking contend and happy.

“Dean.”

He forces himself to put the photo back on the shelf and turns around to see Cas standing in the doorway.

“You know, he's not a freak show,” Cas mimics, but Dean can see he's worried.

“Thanks, Cas. I know. It's just … I hope he's alright, I hope he's living a good life down there, but -”

“You miss him.” Cas finishes. It's not a question, it's a statement.

“Yeah, man,” is all he can answer. He turns around to wipe at something in his eyes, then turns again and asks, “When will we be eating?”

“In a few minutes. We're waiting for … someone to arrive here, it won't be much longer now.”

Just as Cas finishes his sentence, they hear a soft knock on the door and someone entering the house.

“Who is this?” Dean asks, but Cas is already on his way to the kitchen and Dean just follows.

–

Dean still can't believe it. He just finished his second helping of T-Bone-Steak, mashed potatoes and fried rice, everything as delicious as he'd hoped for (he'd left out the vegetables). His stomach is full and he leans back really satisfied. This is amazing. He hadn't given a thought to the fact that now that he was in Heaven, he might meet his mom and dad again. Seeing all of them on this table in Cas' dining room – Mary and John, Cas, Jack and Bobby – laughing, eating, smiling, talking about things they did 'down there' and things to do 'up here', it was unbelievable. Dean watches all of them closely. They look so full of joy he can't help grinning like an idiot. His mom is laughing hard from a joke of John and Dean enjoys to see her relaxed and free of worries. His dad claps her on the back, then starts to stroke her gently. He too looks unstressed, there's no trace of the old, haunted John in his face anymore. Even Bobby, though still being his grumpy self, seems pleased.

“Alright, Dean, I think it's time for a little storytime.” Cas watches him intently as he explains, “I think you wanted to know how I could escape The Empty and start my new life here.”

All eyes are upon Cas now. Mary puts the plates away, coming back with two six-packs of beer. She hands everyone a beer and Cas starts talking.

“As most of you know, I went with The Empty willingly, keeping my side of the deal we had made way back. Several months ago, there was a problem at hand. The Empty wanted to keep Jack. I told her to take me instead of him and she agreed to that but wanted to be sure to crush me. So she told me that she wouldn't just swap - she'd come and get me as soon as I would be truly happy. And that she did. When we talked, Dean, I had made a choice”. At this, Cas sends him the slightest smile, which makes Dean want to forgive him in an instant. “Well, as you know, this choice led to me being taken by that bitch. For a while, I lay there in nothingness, black nothing all around me, and I hoped to fall asleep, which I knew was sure to happen to everyone The Empty had swallowed. But not me. She wouldn't let me sleep because I had been an inconvenience to her. She wouldn't visit me either. I lay there until I couldn't lie anymore, I sat there for hours and hours, and finally, I stood up. There was no way to give up this easy, The Empty couldn't be invincible, right?” They all nod, fascinated by his story. Jack even has his eyes closed. Another big gulp of beer, then Cas goes on. “So I wandered around, screaming and trying to punch the Nothingness. I called her a lot of stuff just to get her attention, but it was useless. In the end, I stumbled and fell on my knees and was none-the-wiser. But that was the moment I realized it. There was nothing to be done for me alone. But there was someone who had already conquered The Empty, who had woken me up last time, who would maybe be able to do something about my situation. And even though I didn't want to involve him, I saw no other choice. So I prayed. And I was answered.”

“But I prayed too, why did I never get an answer?” Dean sputters out. Instantly, he feels the heat of shame crawling up his neck, but he still locks eyes with Jack, who has finally opened them.

“I heard you, Dean. And I am very sorry. I knew this would disappoint you, but there was no way for me to interfere down there anymore. I couldn't answer, because I couldn't bear to tell you. I am sorry.” Dean swallows hard, then Jack continues, “Then I heard Castiel. And I realized that I wasn't about to interfere down there – but The Empty was not down there, and there were several changes to be made, changes that were overdue.

I gathered up all the strength I could master. I summoned those around me who were willing to help. Gabriel was the first to respond. It might not surprise you that he had taken advantage of everyone assuming him dead, submerging into the benefits of a random gambler's life outside the radar. Yet when I called out to ask the help of every angel available, he immediately came to my side to be of assistance.

Michael was second to answer my call. He asked a lot of questions, wondering if he could trust me. He was hardest to convince – but wanted The Empty gone as much as I did. So he stayed and helped.

Most of the other living angels came to stand with us, but we still weren't enough. So I started to wake up the deceased. This was rather dangerous, as I didn't want The Empty to know something was up too soon. But Cas here did a great job – when I had awoken an angel, he'd find him and explain the matter, trying to be as quiet as possible. Once we had gathered quite a number of angels, they took their positions, waiting for my command. First step was to lure The Empty out of her hiding place. Hannah, Anna, Gadreel and Joshua did a great job with that! They annoyed her one after the other, to the point she wanted to throw them all out. Next step was to surround and distract her. So everyone did their best to get her attention, circling her in further. Then the tricky part started. While the inside angels surrounded her, kept her encircled and disturbed, enraging her further to keep her at that spot, we on the outside started to open up a crack, getting others out of there. Gabriel took an essential part here, building up an illusion to cover our crack. As soon as we had Jane and Raphael, I knew it was time to finish it, because the inside angels were taking hit after hit.

With the help of Michael, Gabriel, Raphael and Jane, I managed to take hold of The Empty. Like Chuck did with Amara, we cast her out, chaining her up in the same lonely dimension Amara had once been held in. Michael sacrificed his powers to bear the new Mark that still was needed to have her caged.”

Jack pauses for a moment, takes a sip from his beer and watches the others. Mary and John are holding hands on the table, switching short glances now and then. Bobby looks like he's fallen asleep already, beer still clutched in his hand. Castiel seems to be entranced by Jack's story, elbows on the table, chin resting on his folded hands. A small smile playes on his lips and Dean notices how beautiful Cas' face looks when being relaxed. He doesn't know if he's even allowed to think this way, but he can't help it. He tries to focus on the story again.

“So, you cast her out. I guess the angels on the inside got out – seeing as Cas is here. But what about the other creatures this thing had held for an eternity?”

“Yes, that.” Jack answered, nodding. “I assumed it would be no good to send them all with The Empty. Instead, Jane and me enlarged the Purgatory, sent every monstrous creature down there and asked Rowena to magnify the intensity of their 'door'. In return she'd get the demon souls sent to Hell, and she willingly agreed to that.”

“Great.” Dean states, “more demons for her, no big deal.”

“Dean,” Cas whispers, obviously annoyed by this interruption.

“I don't like the idea of giving her more power, alright? It's no good. Rowena will use this somehow to do something bad, you know her, Cas!”

“Yes, Dean, I do know her. That's why Jack is keeping an eye on things. I thought you'd be happy to know that we all are safe now. I thought you'd be happy to see … me.”

All eyes are on Dean now, which makes him shift in his seat, feeling pretty uncomfortable.

“Man, you know I'm happy about … this all. I'm just wondering what this means for those left on Earth.”

“You mean Sam.”

Dean nods, not sure if he's able to answer right now.

Jack jumps in. “Don't worry, Dean. He's safe. I am sure of it – I can see it. Please believe me that no harm will come upon him as long as I'm here.”

This really does reassure him and he takes a big swig of his beer. He nods, satisfied for now. Then another thought comes to him.

“What about the angels you saved from The Empty? What exactly happened to them?”

“Oh, that's easy. Every deceased angel got a second chance. I made sure their loyalties were with me, then I sent them to work. There's a lot to do up here, and most angels are glad to be able to help. Michael is an exception though. As I said, he's had to sacrifice his powers to bear the new Mark, so he's powerless now. He's in hiding ...” Jake grins, “but I think … he'll bee alright.

With The Empty being gone, there were new rules to administer. Every monstrous creature – minus the demons - that dies from now on will find himself in purgatory. Demons that die will find themselves in Hell, but powerless. Rowena told me she's got some 'lovely tasks' for them. And every angel that meets his end will come back up here, being powerless but having a place to call home.”

Home. Dean looks around, taking in this wonderful place that Cas can now call his home. He loves this idea, and he feels quiet content with knowing all this.

After this, they switch the topic to easier stuff. Their conversation is light now, mostly about stuff to do in Mary's and John's house, like fixing a little hole in their roof, or repainting their furniture. John even asks if Dean would help him restore a '64 Ford Falcon and Dean eagerly agrees to be there tomorrow. But after a while of talking about the ups and downs of this special car, Mary stifles a wide yawn and John laughs. “It's time I guess! Thank you for this wonderful dinner and a great evening guys. Guess we'll see each other next week?”

“Same time, same place,” Cas answers grinning. “See you tomorrow, Dean,” John says and pulls him into a tight hug. Mary ruffles through his hair before hugging him, then she too says good-bye. Jack wakes up Bobby, half-pulling him out of his chair and tells him that it's time to get home. Bobby grunts, gives Dean a nod, and walks out the front door without another word, probably too tired to speak. Last to say goodnight is Jack, and he pulls both Dean and Cas into a big hug. They clap his back, and Dean thinks he can hear Cas whisper 'I'm proud of you' into Jack's ear. They all say good-night, then Jack is gone too. Closing the door behind Jack, Cas turns around to Dean, watches him closely, a slight pink shade on his cheeks.

“There's a guest room down the hall if you want to...” he leaves his sentence unfinished, but Dean understands.

He looks Cas in the eyes, feeling his heart suddenly hammering against his chest. There were words he wanted to say, but he doesn't remember. He's surprised – all those years down there, he had to hold everything back, and he has no fucking idea how he did that. Cas' eyes are still watching him, asking silent questions. Throwing cautions in the wind, Dean finally closes the distance and pulls Cas into a gentle kiss, hands on his cheeks. After a moment of surprise, Cas kisses him back, his lips soft and warm, and lays his hands around Deans waist. Their kiss seems to take an eternity, Dean has no feeling of time anymore, he just feels Cas' lips on his, and he knows that this is his happy place. His peace. His... he allows himself to think the word – his home.

Notes:

This fic is a gift for @expectingtofly on tumblr as part of the starrynightdeancas gift exchange. It's my first-ever written fanfic and I'd love to know what you think about it! I had a lot of fun writing this, creating my own kind of fix-it fiction. Also, I tried to stay canonical – with one exception, because I will never accept that the trickster was truly finished off!

Please note that I’m not a native speaker and there might be some spelling and grammar mistakes. I’m sorry! But I hope you’ll enjoy it nonetheless.

Have fun reading and leave a comment if you like <3

Not yet posted on AO3, still waiting for my invitation. I’ll have you updated as soon as I can post it there!

#starrynightdeancas gift exchange #first fanfic #destiel #destiel is canon #canonverse #Also non-canonverse cause I don't believe in your reality #Fluff #Sappy #POV Dean Winchester #Gabriel's alive in my reality

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mummybear · 4 years

Text

Help You Out

Words: 3483

Warnings: Massage, Swearing, Smut, Major Dirty Talk (Really Guys What’s New?), Girl On Top, Topping From Bottom, Oral (Female Receiving), Biting, Slightly Possessive Dean, Multiple Orgasms. Think that’s it.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Reader, Mentions of Sam Winchester

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean’s back hurts after so many nights in different motels, so when he and Y/N are forced to share a bed she offers him a hand to get rid of the ache, will he agree to her help when he’s been so distant with her lately?

A/N: @spndeanbingo Square filled - Motel Room. And a big thank you as always to my amazing beta @negans-lucille-tblr

Dean grumbles something under his breath, shifting awkwardly in his seat as he drives, mere minutes away from the motel. You couldn’t wait to get inside the room and take a shower, you were still feeling a little grimy from the previous motel, but luckily Sam actually seemed fairly impressed with the ones at this motel, and Sam Winchester was very rarely wrong when it came to showers.

“This bed better not be as bad as the last one, my back still hurts, damn lumps, I miss my-” Before he can finish his grumbling complaints, you cut him off already knowing what he’s going to say, safe to say this was far from the first time you’d heard it even in the past ten minutes.

“You miss your memory foam mattress back at the bunker, yes I know, and yes I also know that it remembers you.” You sigh loudly, before continuing with a lighter tone to your voice. “Look Dean, we’re here now, we can sleep for a bit then hit the road in the morning, okay?” You try and reason, doing your best to keep the annoyance from your voice.

Dean wasn’t much fun to be around when he was cranky and tired, nor when he was hungry for that matter. They were two of Dean’s biggest weaknesses. He kept insisting he was fine, but Sam and you had known better.

The two of you climbed out of the Impala and headed over to the main office, where a grumpy looking old man was thumbing through the paper.

“Good evening, could we get a double room please,” you ask as nicely as possible, the guy looks up and barely grunts, so you try a different tact, “two beds. One room.” You tell him, trying to keep the edge out of your voice.

“Only one double bed, one room.” The man tells you barely above a mutter, “take it or leave it.”

“We can go somewhere else,” Dean mutters quietly, turning to walk away from the counter. You frown in confusion looking back at Dean, with the key already in hand as you shake your head at the elder Winchester’s behaviour.

“We’ll take it.” You tell the man begrudgingly, not missing the slight hint of panic that flashes across Dean’s face when he looks back at you. You watch Dean with confusion as he turns and leaves you behind. You can’t put your finger on what the hell is wrong with him, and the last few days it has only gotten worse, but you follow him out of the office regardless.

You both grab your duffle bags from the Impala’s trunk, an uncomfortable silence surrounding the two of you, which was something you weren’t used to when it came to Dean, no matter how grumpy he was the two of you never really seemed to be affected, but the last few days you noticed there had been something that changed between the two of you.

When you stepped inside the room it already looked at least a little better than the last one you’d had to stay in. From what you can see the bathroom is cleaner and the bed looks a lot more comfortable and sanitary, though you were sure not all things would be coming up roses.

“You take the bed, I’ll take the sofa or something,” Dean offers, tossing his bag onto the small sofa, which was most definitely not going to work for a Winchester, not in a million years.

“Don’t be silly, Dean, we can share. We’re both adults. Or you can take the bed and I’ll take the sofa, because you couldn’t fit on that even if someone cut your legs off at the knees,” you half laugh, making your way into the bathroom with your own bag. Dean follows you to the doorway and leans against it. “Dean, it doesn’t make sense for us to stay here if you can’t even sleep. And I guarantee you, there is no way that you’re getting any sleep on that couch,” you reason, as you adjust the temperature of the shower and pull the curtain closed.

Dean scratches at the back of his neck and shifts awkwardly on the spot, “I uh, move a lot in my sleep, especially when I’m tired. Wouldn’t wanna hurt you or somethin’. I can just go sleep in the car.”

“Don’t make me throw you on that bed, we both know I can do it,” you warn him playfully, a little confused when you see a blush on his cheeks. You pull off your flannel and drop it to the floor.

“Now go get your butt in bed, please, we can share. But I draw the limit at you watching me get undressed.” You see him shift on the spot again. “I promise, if you get too aggressive at any point then I can sleep on the couch,” you assure him, finally earning yourself a slight nod.

“O-Okay, if you’re sure,” Dean stutters his half answer before stumbling out of the door and closing it behind him.

“So adorable sometimes,” you laugh to yourself, now fully undressed you climb into the shower, letting the hot water take you away for a little while.

By the time you come out from your shower Dean has collapsed on one side of the bed, fast asleep on his stomach, his jeans still clinging to his ankle as he groans something into the pillow his face is squished into.

You can’t help but admire the way he looks, even with his face pressed into the pillow he’s still one of the most handsome men you’d ever met. Those strong legs and the curve of his firm ass in those boxers, or the strong lines of muscle which are more visible in his back from this position, then of course, there’s dimples at the base of his spine that you’d never noticed before. His arms are under the pillow beneath his head, but you can see the defined muscles in them. You’d always had a thing for Dean’s arms, even though you’d tried not to let yourself look for too long, for fear he or Sam would catch you.

You shake yourself from your slight daze and throw your duffle down alongside Dean’s. Carefully tugging his jeans from his ankle and leaving them with the rest of his clothes, before pulling the covers over his body.

You freeze as he shifts in bed, worried that you’ve woken him up, but instead he curls slightly into the covers and onto his side, one arm beneath his pillow as he gets comfortable again. You breathe properly again when he settles, and you climb into your own side, pulling the covers up.

Dean’s body warmth and his light snores eventually lull you into a surprisingly peaceful sleep.

You practically jump awake from your peaceful sleep, it takes you a minute to remember where you are, then you hear that noise again, Dean’s angrily grumbling something beside you as he tosses and turns in bed.

“Dean? What’s wrong?” You ask quietly, voice still heavy and thick with sleep as you turn to look in his direction.

“Jus’ my fuckin’ back, sweetheart, sorry, go back to sleep,” Dean growls in sleepy irritation, throwing himself onto his back again.

You sigh and sit up, turning on the bedside lamp, “turn over, lay on your stomach. I can give you a massage. I’ve had to do it before, Dean, when I was on a hunt with a friend of mine who fucked up her shoulder.”

“I’ll be fine. Just go back to sleep. Besides, massages never work on me,” Dean argues, only annoying you that much more.

“Dean, stop arguing, just let me try and help for fuck's sake.”

“Fine. Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he grunts shifting onto his front.

You feel him stiffen beneath you as you straddle his ass, “just shut up grumpy ass. Listen to me, close your eyes and take a deep breath, relax,” you tell him as quietly as you can, trying to keep your voice soft, your ass hovering above his as you lean forwards and firmly grip his shoulders. He’s so tense and as you move your thumbs over his knotted muscles, you can tell you might be here a little while. Dean lets out a groan as you press and rotate your thumbs at the base of his neck, slowly making your way down his spine, digging into the knotted muscles as you move.

Well fuck, that may have been the sexiest noise that you’d ever heard. You try and ignore the way his groan shoots arousal straight between your legs, but you have to bite your own lip when you watch the way his hands fist at the sheets beneath him.

“How’s that feel?” you ask him, just above a whisper as your thumbs press into the muscles around his shoulder blades. Dean turns his head to the side and moans as you press against a particularly stubborn knot. You have to fight with yourself not to roll your hips against his ass.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’ve really got somethin’- Oh God,” he groans deeply and you swear your heart is pounding when he continues to talk in that same deep voice. “Your hands are like fuckin’ magic, I’m gonna have to listen to you more often.” He moans again as you move lower, sliding down so you're sitting on the backs of his thighs, your thumbs pressing into the bottom of his spine and the top of that firm ass of his.

You hate how shaky your voice is when you reply and how uncomfortable your panties have become. “Yeah, I guess you will. Glad you’re finally seeing sense.”

“You could charge for this, damn,” Dean rasps, as you lift yourself off of his thighs, terrified he’ll be able to feel how damp your panties are against his skin. You gently pull down the top of his boxers, digging your thumbs into the firm muscles feeling him relax under you. Then your hands move down further, gently pressing your thumbs under the curve of his ass and down his strong thighs.

“Holy fuckin’ shit, Y/N,” he all but growls and it takes every ounce of self control you have not to moan his name, practically biting into your tongue.

You take a deep breath and tap Dean’s shoulder gently before you lose your nerve, feeling the lump pressing at the base of your throat.

“You wanna turn over? So that I can do the front,” you explain just above a whisper, feeling him stiffen beneath you.

“That might not be such a good idea, Y/N,” he warns you, his voice taking on a deeper and rougher tone than before.

“Please Dean, thought we agreed you should listen to me more often,” you joke shakily; even you’re not sure if this is a good idea anymore. You think that you might know the reason he doesn’t want to turn over, but the thought alone only makes you want him to do it more.

“Okay, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he rasps, as you sit up a little higher, allowing him to turn onto his back beneath you. As soon as they’re able to, his big green eyes lock on yours, looking a little panicked, and you quickly notice that his face is flushed.

You gasp as you lower yourself into his lap, feeling the impressive bulge that’s currently pressing between your thighs. You do your best to ignore it as you press your thumbs into the front of his shoulders and down his collarbone and over his pecks, before looking into his eyes again. Safe to say that was a big mistake.

His big hands grip your thighs when you involuntarily roll your hips against him, feeling his thickness press against you clit. Your nails sink into his pecs and he moans your name, “feel better, Dean?” you ask barely above a whisper as his hands drag roughly up your thighs and grip your ass tightly, finally pulling a whimper from your parted lips.

“Oh yeah, so much better, sweetheart,” Dean all but growls, nails sinking into your ass as his grip tightens.

You slump forward, letting your hands rest either side of his head as you look into one another’s eyes. “Is this why you’ve been weird around me lately? Because your back hurts? Or does it have more to do with the raging hard on between your legs?” you question him, unable to stop the smirk from curling at your lips when his cheeks blush bright red.

“I uh… I guess the last one,” he tells you quietly, swallowing hard and squeezing your ass harder. You cock your eyebrow in confusion as you look down at him, “look, don’t laugh, but I’ve kinda had this… thing for you lately,” he tells you quietly, a look on his face that tells you he’s worried about what you might say.

“Show me then,” you tell him, biting into your grin.

You squeal in surprise when he practically throws you onto your back and is hovering over you seconds later, a smirk stretching over his plump lips.

“Oh, I’ll show you alright,” Dean all but growls, the nervous side of him has seemingly disappeared as he kisses his way down your neck. You whimper as he sucks a mark into the skin, and drags his teeth over your collarbone, continuing to leave his marks across your body.

Dean settles between your legs and tugs them over his shoulders. You sit up, unable to stop yourself from watching. His eyes remain on yours as his thick tongue moves through your slick, the heat in his gaze makes your stomach roll, and you can’t help but moan his name desperately when his tongue circles around your clit slowly.

Your fingers thread through his hair and your breath catches in your throat when he finally sinks two thick fingers into your wet heat. It’s been ages since you’ve been with a guy, and even longer since you’d been with someone who knew what he was doing - safe to say Dean was a guy who knew what he was doing. With that perfect mouth of his, he's alternating between kitten licks and nibbling and sucking at your sensitive bundle of nerves, and your entire body feels like it’s on fire.

“Dean, get up here, please, I need you inside me,” you whimper as he starts curling his fingers inside you, stroking against that spot which makes your toes curl and your eyes roll back.

Your fingers tighten in his hair, and Dean’s groan vibrates through your pussy, causing a shiver to edge its way up your spine.

He finally relents, easing his fingers from inside you and sucking them between his lips, throwing you a wink as he pulls them free with an audible pop.

“Want my cock that bad, do ya sweetheart?” Dean chuckles, kissing and sucking at your skin as he crawls back over your body.

“Yes I do, you dork. Now get up here and fuck me.”

You giggle when he practically pounces on you, his lips immediately finding yours in a frenzied kiss. Dean shifts between your legs and you hook them over his hips as the tip of his cock nudges at your dripping entrance. Your hands grip at his shoulders, nails digging into his skin, as he pulls away from your lips letting you both gasp for much needed breath.

Dean sits up on his knees, spreading them with his big hands and pulling you closer until your legs are pressed against his chest and your ass is resting on his thighs.

“Fuck, look at you sweetheart, so perfect, can’t wait to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock.” Dean groans as he pushes forward slightly, and you feel your pussy stretch around the wide head of his perfectly thick cock.

You cup your tits, feeling your nails biting at your skin as Dean pushes forward a little further, until he’s fully seated inside you. Dean grips the tops of your thighs as he starts to move, slow and calculated, his grip tightens on you when you try to rock against him.

“Fuck, Dean, more please,” you whine loudly, feeling him hitting that spot repeatedly.

“Don’t worry baby girl, you’re gonna fuckin’ come all over my cock real soon,” he rasps, turning his head to nip at your calf as his thrusts speed up, one of his hands splaying over your stomach, and you swear you can feel his cock bulging under your skin. You look up at Dean in awe, feeling that familiar feeling rising fast, your pussy fluttering and your stomach tightening.

“I can feel my cock against my hand sweetheart, so fuckin’ deep inside your sweet little cunt. You gonna come for me? Wanna watch you bounce on that cock, you gonna do that for me, baby?” Dean rasps as his thumb starts to rub at your clit.

“Oh… oh God! Dean! Fuck anything you want… I’m gonna-” You cut yourself off with a silent scream, feeling your entire body go rigid as you gasp for the breath you don’t even know if you need.

You’ve not even had time to come down from your orgasm when Dean rolls you both over, so you’re on top and he’s on his back, a cocky smirk on those perfect lips of his. You slump forward slightly with your hands on his chest, still panting hard.

“So sexy when you come for me,” Dean purrs as you start moving your hips over him, rocking back and forth.

“Love your big cock, Dean, fills me so good,” you whimper, already feeling another orgasm burning just out of sight.

Dean brings his legs up higher on the bed, so his legs are spread slightly behind you. Your nails bite at his skin when you start to rise and fall over him, feeling his thickness fill you and leave you repeatedly, quickly picking up speed. Dean cups one of your breasts and pinches the nipple between his thumb and forefinger. The slap of your skin against his mixes with your moans and whimpers and Dean’s grunts and groans.

“Gonna make me come, sweetheart, so fuckin’ close. Can’t wait to fuck you full baby girl, you’d like that wouldn’t you, huh? Wanna feel my come dripping from this tight little cunt? Wanna remember who made you scream like a little slut while we’re drivin’ home, don’t ya?” Dean all but growls, snapping his hips to meet yours with the end of every question. His fucking mouth and his perfect cock have you close to losing your damn mind.

“Yes Dean, please. I want it, wanna feel your cock for days. Give it to me, Dean. I need it, please, only a little slut for you,” you whimper feeling your arms shake as he pulls you flat against his chest.

His grip is unyielding as he grabs your ass tightly in those big hands of his, “gonna fuckin’ ruin you princess, ain’t nobody gonna fuck you like me.” He grunts possessively as his hips begin to slam up into you at an inhuman rate. You’re sure your heart is about to thud out of your chest, all you can hear is Dean and the blood that’s rushing through your ears.

Your orgasm sneaks up on you out of nowhere, squeezing tight around Dean’s throbbing cock. White light explodes behind your eyelids, but Dean doesn’t stop moving until you’re practically shaking on top of him, feeling his come trickling down between you.

“Fuck.” You gasp against his sweat slick chest, feeling his fingers running through your hair as he shushes you.

You’re surrounded by him in the best way, and you can feel your body beginning to calm down.

“One word for it,” he chuckles breathlessly, before finally opening his eyes and looking at you.“You okay?” he asks, voice still deep and thick with something so sexy you involuntarily shiver again as Dean rolls you both onto your sides.

“Best I’ve ever had,” you tell him honestly, watching the grin that spreads across his lips. “So, are you finally gonna quit acting weird around me?” you ask with a teasing smile.

“Probably not, sweetheart. You drive me crazy, in every way possible. Anyway, can’t be that bad if it got us here,” Dean grins, pressing a chaste kiss your lips.

“Well, I guess you got me there. You ever want another massage you know where to find me.”

“Oh, I will definitely be taking you up on that.” Dean smirks pulling you against him, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “Now sleep, we’ve got an early start. I wanna see if we can make my memory foam remember you too.”

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