#the way dean winchester always refused to be normal around handsome men

[drulalovescas]

Handsome men: flirt with Dean Winchester

Dean Winchester:

[mrswhozeewhatsis]

A Woman of Letters (Getting a Feel for Sam Winchester) - Chapter 20

Summary:  You’ve just opened an occult bookstore in Lebanon, Kansas, when you fall for a tall, handsome customer…literally. You soon find out that there’s more to the world than you ever suspected, including you. Discovering your heritage puts you directly in a witch’s crosshairs, though, so the Winchesters offer to take you in and teach you how to protect yourself. As you discover your own family history with the supernatural and your own hidden talents, you can’t help but wish a certain brother was as excited about your interest as you are.

Total length: 43 chapters, 70,247 words - Read on AO3 - Series masterlist

Chapter word count: 1764 words

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: Canon-level angst and violence

You

After Sam had gotten up and left so abruptly, you tried to concentrate on the file in front of you and Dean. The words kept swimming around in your field of vision, though, and when Cas got up and left, you gave up. Sitting back in your chair, you rubbed your eyes and sighed.

“I don’t know what his problem is, but I promise you, he’ll come around.” Your eyes flew to Dean’s, and the soft look on his face made you smile.

“I’d like to say I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I’m not sure that would fly.” You gave Dean a weak smile and shook your head.

“Is he sending you bad vibes or something?” The confused, but caring, look on Dean’s face made you chuckle.

“Not exactly. He’s not sending me anything. For the most part, all I get from him these days is static. Just a gaping lack of anything, really.” You paused with a sigh. “Cas showed him how to close himself off so I can’t feel him. Cas said it was because Sam knows it can be exhausting, and he wanted to spare me what he could.” You shrugged sadly. “But it never bothered me. Cas is the only one that exhausts me. Feeling things from the two of you is actually kind of comforting.” Dean frowned at the sadness in your voice and pulled you awkwardly into his arms over the arms of the chairs.

“I’m sorry he’s doing that to you, sweetheart. I’m sure he’s got his reasons, no matter how wrong they might be.” Dean rubbed your back and took a deep breath. “I bet it hurts more since you’re falling for him, huh?” You stiffened in his arms, and then pulled away, avoiding his eyes.

“What? What makes you think that?” Dean let out a friendly huff and smiled.

“I’ve seen how you look at him over breakfast, or when the two of you are in here reading together.” You feel your face flush and you put your head in your hands.

“It’s so stupid. I feel like a teenager with a crush on a classmate.” Dean rubbed your back again and chuckled.

“It’s not stupid, Y/N. You can’t help how you feel.” You gave Dean a grateful look.

“If I would have been smart, I’d have fallen for you. You, I get. You are easy for me. Sam, he’s a riddle, wrapped inside an enigma, wrapped inside…well, normally I’d say a taco, but in this case…wrapped inside a hella got guy with great hair.” Dean laughed, but then put on a disgusted face.

“Dude, I don’t need to hear that my brother is hot, and that hair is on my to-do list.” Dean smiled at you. You pretended to be shocked and smacked him.

“Don’t you touch it!” Both of you dissolved into laughter and joking threats against each other as Sam and Cas returned to the room. You looked up at Sam and saw a flash of something before his face neutralized and he gave you a polite smile. Your heart ached at the smile, and the hand you had on Dean’s arm tightened. Dean patted your hand reassuringly before breaking apart from you.

“So, you nerds finally finished with the journals? Can the rest of us hear what crazy Uncle Lloyd had to say?” You smacked Dean again lightly, laughing at him. Dean flashed a cocky grin your way and then turned back to the other two, doing his best to make his face look serious. You could still see the twinkle in his eye and the tiniest hint of a smile, though.

“Cas went over what I did, and he made a couple of minor changes, but yes, we’re done.” Sam glared at Dean, and then pushed the journals and the notebook over to you. You stared at the pile of books with trepidation. Why did this make you nervous?

“Is there anything in there about me?” You looked at Sam with uncertainty, and got another polite smile in return.

“Well, there’s a lot of personal stuff in there about you when you were growing up after your parents died. I figured you’d rather read that stuff yourself, though. As far as your gift, and the Men of Letters is concerned, there’s a couple of things about that, too.

“He mentioned a little bit as you were growing up with him that he felt you pushing him. He says he always said no to pretty much anything you asked for to make sure he didn’t reward you for using your gift. He also talks about trying to hide things from you when you were so difficult to lie to.” You nodded and smiled.

“’Because I said so,’ was pretty standard in his house. It was a big change for me. My parents were always willing to explain everything to me. To suddenly live in a house where there seemed to be no rhyme or reason for the rules really freaked me out. It took a while before we found a middle ground. Or so I thought. Maybe it just took a while before the reasons were ones he could tell me about.” Sam and Dean both nodded with you.

“Your uncle did get into hunting a bit, but he really was a Man of Letters, not a hunter. His shop was a hunters’ shop. He sold whatever hunters needed, and helped hunters with research if they asked. He sold the shop and did his best to get out of the life when you came to live with him because he didn’t want you getting into it. After you were grown and you moved out, he got sucked back in, it seems.” Sam faltered, and so did the static, giving you a quick shot of sadness and guilt before the static returned. You felt Dean’s arm move to the back of your chair.

“Sam? Just say it.” The tone in Dean’s voice worried you, and the fear coming from Dean didn’t help. You watched Sam struggle to keep himself together, and felt the static breaking up just a little to let out more sadness and guilt.

“He started getting calls from hunters again around 2007 or so.” Sam paused and looked down at his hands on the table. “Right after we killed the yellow-eyed demon.” The wave of sadness that came from Dean was almost visible to you. He immediately hung his head and sighed.

“When the Devil’s Gate opened and all Hell broke loose,” Dean said, quietly. Sam nodded. You stayed quiet, not even knowing what to say.

“He started researching and doing what he could without his shop. He kind of became like Bobby, only quieter, and less involved with field work. He wasn’t in much demand until after the Apocalypse started. After that, he was pretty much back in it full time. Being a librarian, he had access to a lot of research materials, so he had tons of hunters calling him. When he died, he was researching a demon that apparently wanted to curry favor with Lucifer, so was taking out hunters. His MO was to make it look like a heart attack.” Sam’s face was stoic, but the static coming from him was pulsing.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispered. Dean pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. You looked at Dean, and studied the guilt coming from him.

“What is it, Dean? Just tell me.” Dean looked at you so sadly you felt your heart ache.

“We were there when the Devil’s Gate was opened. We closed it again, but not before hundreds of demons escaped.” Dean studied his hands, refusing to look at you. You looked at Sam, and he was also studying his hands, or possibly the table, you couldn’t be sure which one. Turning to Cas, he was the only one willing to even glance at you.

“What the Winchesters don’t want to say is that we are the ones responsible for the Apocalypse. There were 66 seals that needed to be broken to free Lucifer from his cage, which was the beginning of the Apocalypse. Dean unknowingly broke the first. Sam was tricked into breaking the last. I was working with Heaven and had my own part to play, as well. We eventually stopped it…well, Sam stopped it…but it sounds like there’s a chance your uncle may have been killed by a demon released from Hell through the Devil’s Gate. Either way, that demon killed your uncle to curry favor with Lucifer.” You looked from Sam, who appeared to almost be shaking to stay in control, to Dean, who rubbed a hand over his face, and back to Cas, who just looked beaten down.

“So, what the three of you are trying to make me believe is that it’s your fault?” You watched all three men flinch. “So, the demon that actually killed my uncle…he isn’t responsible at all?” All three men looked up at you. “Because it sounds to me like any number of demons had a hand in my uncle’s death. Can I hazard a guess that the yellow-eyed demon was the one that opened the gate?” Sam and Dean sort of nodded and shrugged, then definitely nodded. “And I’m guessing it wasn’t Mother Theresa tricking you two into breaking seals.” The brothers both smirked and shook their heads. “And last time I checked, wasn’t Lucifer kind of a bad dude?” Sam winced, but Dean smirked. “So, how is it your fault? ‘Cause I don’t see it.” Dean chuckled.

“Well, if you’re going to put it that way….” Dean smiled at you and shook his head. “Leave it to you to try and let us off the hook.” You took Dean’s hand in yours, and reached for Sam’s.

“I don’t blame either of you. Though someday I want to hear more about this.” Both men looked unhappy with that request, until Cas chimed in.

“Well, she could always read the Winchester Gospels. They could give her an accurate….” Cas was interrupted by Sam and Dean both yelling over him. You looked at all three men with a smirk.

“The Winchester Gospels, huh? Are those sold at my local book store, or will I have to look for them online?” Sam and Dean both groaned and covered their faces with their hands. Sam’s wall of static came down for a long moment, and what you felt was pure embarrassment coming from both of them. You chuckled and pulled out your phone, opening up a search window.

[thatonecurlygirl]

Flamboyant

Sam x Reader

Word Count: 1.1k

You normally don’t get involved in the happenings of the Winchesters and try to stay out of their way, they can usually take care of themselves. Usually being the big word, other times they either get themselves killed or those around them and you’d rather leave them to do as they do. They are legends and great at what they do, but they are also flashy and loud and striking fear into monsters -yadda yadda- which is the opposite of your quiet, observant serpent-like strikes. You knew when Jody called you and mentioned their names that you would refuse to join in on their case until Jody promised they just needed more information on Sirens, creatures that you had studied and gathered information on for years, ever since one took your father when you were a kid.

Now here you are, sitting in the small cafe, eating a slice of blueberry pie and waiting for the two men to arrive. Your copies of the Siren research that you gathered in a folder beside you in the booth.

“I mean we are here early. Maybe she hasn’t made it here yet.” You hear someone say behind you and you turn to see them standing there, tall and more handsome in person.

“Hi,” Dean says as you catch his eye. You just smile and turn your attention back to the pie in front of you. “The pie any good?” He asks slipping into the booth seat across from you and Sam shoots you an apologetic look as he stands by the table.

“Best in town.” You smile at Dean, pulling your attention from the beautiful giant standing at the end of the table. “You look like a pie guy, you wanna try?” You ask sliding the plate over to him and he smiles with his eyebrow quirked.

“Mmm. This is good.” He says after taking a bite of the pie.

“The sugar cream is even better.” You say to him and look up at Sam. “Please take a seat, your Goliath-like stature is somewhat intimidating.” You laugh and he chuckles before taking a seat.

You know this is just too good, this is the reason why you don’t get caught. This is the reason why the boys are always in trouble. They just come in here flashing smiles and if you were a supernatural creature you could lure them in so quickly.

“You two aren’t from around here, what are Y'all here for?” You ask, seeing what kind of information they would give away.

“Oh just here to meet a friend,” Sam says, watching Dean finish off your pie.

“Not a girlfriend, I hope.” You can’t help but to flirt with the younger Winchester, everyone says Dean’s the smooth fella but damn that Sam Winchester.

“No, no girlfriend.” He chuckles looking down at his hands before up at you. “What about you, you planning on meeting someone?” Sam asks with a small smile.

“Ya know, I am. A friend set me up.” You shrug and he nods.

“You are way to pretty to be set up on a date. I’d be more than happy to take you out for drinks.” Dean chimes in with a sly smile on his face. “My treat.”

“Thanks for the offer, but your brother here is more my type.” You wink at Dean before diverting your eyes back to Sam, who is sitting there with a surprised look on his face. You giggle and scribble your number on the napkin and slide it across the table. “If you two need anything else feel free to call.”

“Anything else?” Sam asks in confusion.

“Yeah, here’s the information that you were needing. I’m (y/n) by the way, it’s nice to finally meet the Winchester boys. Much more attractive in person.” You smile sliding the folder of copied information and research to the taller Winchester.

“You are not what we expected.” Dean blurts out. When he thinks of badass female hunters he thinks of Jo and Ellen, he thinks of Jody and Claire. You are the opposite, dressed in bright colors and cute clothes. Your looks are deceiving to him and out of place.

“I never am,” You wink and slide out of the booth. “Be careful, I’d hate to have to come save the two of you.” You snicker as you head to the door with a wave, disappearing outside as if you were a dream, a ghost, imaginary.

“You’ve got to call her. If you don’t, I sure as hell will.” Dean says gawking at the door and turning to his brother in awe. “That girl is hot.”

“Uh Dean,” You catch the guys off guard when you poke your head back in the small cafe door. Dean looks up with a smirk, elbowing his brother’s side. “They’re towing your car.”

“Not my baby!” Dean exclaims nudging Sam out of the booth and darting out past you as he runs out the door.

“He sure loves that car,” You giggle as Sam walks toward you, and out the door.

“You have no idea.” Sam chuckles as he shakes his head. “Jody said you were an expert on Sirens, why don’t you join us. It’s always nice having someone around that knows what they are getting into.” Sam suggested, looking down at you.

“Sorry big guy, I don’t hunt with Winchesters. You and Dean are a little too… flamboyant for my hunting preferences but if you ask me out, I have no problem indulging a little — or a lot.” You flirt with a side smile as you watch the show Dean puts on, trying to talk the man out of towing his car.

“Flamboyant?” Sam asks. You cock your head to the side, looking at Sam and back at his brother. “Okay, maybe Dean is a little… over the top sometimes.” He chuckles.

“A little?” You giggle and walk up to Fred, the man who is attempting to tow Dean’s car. “Hey Fred, leave the poor man and his car be. Go pick on someone else. I’ll make it worth your while.” You pat his chest with a smile and Fred goes wide-eyed and with a nod, he detaches the car and leaves.

“Make it worth his while?” Dean smirks.

“Yeah, I caught him cheating on his wife with her sister a couple weeks back. That man doesn’t dare cross my path.” You laugh. “Well have a good day and happy hunting.” You turn and walk in the direction of your house.

“Hey!” Sam calls from where you left the two men. “About that date?”

“Text me and I will send you my address.” You smile wide as you continue to walk down the sidewalk, waving behind you.

You smile a big toothy grin. You were only expecting to give them the information and send them on their way, not end up talking Sam Winchester into taking you out on a date. You glance behind you to see Dean nudging Sam and him standing there red-faced and watching you walk away.

“I owe Jody, big time.” You laugh to yourself.

[dancingalone21]

Single - Part 3 (Final)

Summary: Dean tries to plan a camping trip for his son and the reader doesn’t make it easy for him.

Pairing: Daddy!Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1,929

Part 1 Part 2

~

Dean sets his sparkling hazel eyes on your curvaceous form as you move across the grass in his backyard. He watches you interrupt Mikey and Drew's game of catch to see if the boys want something to drink.

Even though it's a totally mundane task, the older Winchester can't help but be mesmerized by it. How do you manage to make even the simplest things look sexy as hell?

"Dude." Sam's amused tone catches his brother's attention. "If you keep drooling like that you'll need a bib."

"What?" Dean immediately wipes his mouth with his forearm, now feeling self conscious and it makes Sam howl.

"Get it together, man. Y/N's a good one. Don't close the door before you even open it, ya know?"

"Huh?" Dean unwillingly peels his eyes away from you.

"Don't fuck it up." Sam stresses resisting the urge to slap some sense into him.

"Obviously. This will be a piece of pie."

"It's a piece of cake, dork." Sam jeers, standing up to run inside and grab a handful of napkins.

"Not in my world, Sammy. Not in my world." Dean mutters under his breath as you wander back over to him.

"So Y/N...did you change your mind about letting Mikey go camping? I think it's pretty clear that my brother and I are awesome."

You shift in your seat towards Dean once you're settled at the patio table, "The jury's still out."

"You're a tough cookie." He replies slyly. "It's a good thing I like cookies."

"Wow. I..."

"I left you alone for like ten seconds and you're already using lame pickup lines, Dean?" Sam butts into the conversation, giving his long hair a shake as he settles back down into his seat.

"Bite me." Dean counters coolly, then switches his full attention back to you.

"You could always just come with us. You said you're not the camping type but I think you'd like it." Dean finishes with a hopeful expression.

"I doubt it." You sweep your hair up into a makeshift ponytail because the scorching sun is getting to you. Or maybe it's the delicious man who keeps licking his damn lips like he's about to devour you.

"I prefer electricity. TV, refrigerator, microwave...ya know stuff like that. I'm partial to my comfy mattress as well." You laugh softly.

“You’d probably do better glamping.” Sam speaks up earning himself a repulsed look from Dean.

“What’s that?” You ask intrigued.

“I think it stands for glamorous camping. It’s basically…”

“You are such a chick.” Dean snorts loudly taking a swig of his frosty beer.

“Jess told me about it, dickweed.”

“Sure, asswipe.”

“Settle down, children.” You jokingly reprimand the two handsome brothers.

“Are you gonna punish me?” Dean playfully growls at you.

“Dude.” Sam let’s out an uncomfortable groan over his brother’s forwardness.

“Oh definitely, Dean.” Your sultry tone catching them both by surprise.

“I’d focus the most on your dick if I was being honest.”

“I…uh…l…” Dean’s cockiness suddenly vanishes as he becomes tongue tied over your words.

“Do you think you’d enjoy that?” You gnaw at your bottom lip, holding in a giggle after he whines faintly at your question.

“Yup…I…yup.” Dean nods profusely at your confession.

“I bet. I’m sure Spike would too.”

“Yeah…wait what? Spike?” The perplexed man whips his head over to the large Rottweiler lounging in the shade.

“Uh huh. I bet he’d be thrilled.” You quip deviously.

“When I cut your dick off and feed it to him as a chew toy.” You smirk wickedly. Sam’s entertained expression now matches your own while Dean looks stunned and horrified.

“I knew I liked you, Y/N!” Sam erupts into laughter, slapping his brother hard on the back as he doubles over in his chair.

“The gorgeous ones are always batshit crazy.” Dean huffs eyeing you.

"Oh you have no idea, sweetheart." You purr, making Dean's heart speed up in a way that he's never experienced.

Realizing quick that he misjudged you, Dean now knows that he's no longer in over his head. Hell no. That would be welcome at this point because at the moment he's fucking drowning.

"Play nice, Y/N." Sam simpers with a wide smile.

"Me? Of course." You dismiss him with a wave of your hand.

"So back to glamping..." Sam begins the conversation again.

"Stop talking crazy, Sammy. I refuse to even say that stupid word."

Dean's stubborn reaction makes you roll your eyes and you decide to just google it for yourself. At this rate, you're never going to find out the fucking definition of glamping.

"How about a trial run, Y/N? That could help...maybe...I mean..." Dean starts rambling on, his deep voice distracting you from reading.

"What are you mumbling about?" You interrupt him, pulling your attention away from your iPhone. Dean looks a little flustered by your response and it makes Sam chuckle to himself.

"Um...a trial...run." Dean breathes out waiting for your reaction.

"What do you mean?"

"We could camp out here in the backyard and you'll get a taste of what it's like. Could be fun..."

"That's..."

"Do you like s'mores? And hot dogs?" Dean's body stiffens, noticing the half eaten hot dog sitting on your plate.

"Clearly you like hot dogs." He gestures with a strained smile.

"Good observation." You smirk back, picking the hot dog up to finish it off.

"I just...um..."

"Is he always like this?" You direct with a chuckle towards Sam who's throughly enjoying the bumbling idiot to his right. His eyes land on his brother and it's clear Dean's debating making a run for it.

"I'm gonna go get dessert." Dean blurts out lifting himself out of his seat and sprinting inside.

"You're doing great, Y/N." Sam compliments with a thumbs up.

"What do you mean?"

"Giving Dean a hard time so it's not so easy on him."

"I'm not even doing that. This is just how I am." You explain puzzled and it makes Sam burst out laughing.

"Oh shit. This is so much fun." He rubs his hands together wickedly.

You give him a quizzical look but decide to just go with the flow, "The Winchester brothers are something else."

Before Sam can respond, Dean strides proudly back to the table holding a delicious looking apple pie. Your mouth automatically starts to water and you're suddenly very annoyed that you can't enjoy any.

"This is from the bakery down the street." Dean announces happily. "Their pies are the best. How big of a slice do you want, Y/N?"

"Um...no thanks. I'm not a fan." You answer almost hesitantly, wondering what his reaction will be.

Apparently Sam is just as interested because he's watching his brother like a hawk right now. You can see that he's trying to hide a smirk but it's threatening to show at any second.

Dean's mouth falls open, he tilts his head at you with a deer in headlights expression. You officially have no idea what the fuck is up with this god damn pie but you're dying to know.

"Oh." Dean swallows thickly, his brain not fully processing what you just said. He doesn't understand what would possess you to say such an upsetting statement. But at the same time, he oddly doesn't have the desire to freak out on you.

"Uh...well...what about some chocolate ice cream?"

"Sure why not." You respond a little relieved.

Sam waits for his brother to race back inside before turning himself to you, "Wow he really likes you, Y/N." He says surprised.

"You wanna tell me why I had to pass on the pie? It looks so good." You whine leaning back in your seat with a pout.

"Dean's obsessed with pie. Like it's unhealthy. And the fact that you said you don't like it and you're still here speaks volumes."

"It does?"

"Hell yeah. He ended a date early once because the girl said pie should only be eaten at Thanksgiving."

"Well that's normal."

"That's my brother." Sam adds lightly, fully aware of the ridiculousness.

"So are you gonna do it, Y/N?"

"Do what?"

"The trial run out here."

"Dean was being serious?" You quirk an eyebrow.

"Oh definitely." Sam affirms. "I'm pretty sure he just wants to spend more time with you."

"Are you...um...are you sure he doesn't just like the challenge?" You ask carefully, holding your breath for the answer.

"Trust me." Sam assures you. "I know my brother and there's no way in hell that he'd put in all of this effort if that was the case."

Sam delivers a warm smile and surprisingly you believe him, there's special about him and his brother that draws you in. He disappears seconds later, mumbling about making a phone call to his wife Jess.

You're having an inner battle with yourself over how to interact with Dean. At first, he was nothing short of obnoxious and his immediate charm drove you crazy. Now here you are hours later and the man still gets under your skin.

Although Dean's behavior doesn't hinder the undeniable attraction you feel towards him. It both intimates you and excites you. You've always put up this hard exterior around men that you like and of course it's never benefited you.

That's why it's so easy to talk to Sam, you don't see him as anything else other than a friend. And that's why Dean is only getting the wise ass side of you right now. You're like the five year old girl on the playground who punches the boy that she likes. It's never worked in your favor but you've never cared until now. You need to let your guard down just a tad if you want to give Dean a chance. A real chance.

Dean disrupts your train of thought when he walks back outside and places the bowl of ice cream in front of you,“Here ya go, sweetheart." 

"Thanks, Dean." You tell him with a smile. "Actually I think I'll try some some of the pie after all." 

"Really?" The way his beautiful face lights up makes your day.

"If it's as good as you said then maybe I'll like it." You shrug shyly, tearing your eyes away from his. Dean's taken by surprise at the sudden change in you but he's definitely not complaining. He quickly cuts you a piece before you can change your mind and eagerly hands it to you.

"Damn. This is tasty pie." You moan between bites, completely oblivious that Dean is beaming with joy.

"So were you serious about doing a trial run in your backyard?"

"Yes, ma'am." The genuine tone in Dean’s voice grabs you and it’s clear that this man is already stripping away some of your harsh layers. And you have no fucking clue how but you’re actually ok with it.

"I'll agree to it but only under two conditions."

"Ok lay it on me.”

"First...there are no kids.” You say making Dean raise his eyebrows.

“And second...we share a tent." The grin that breaks out on his face makes you giggle.

"Done and done, sweetheart.” Dean promises with a wink.

~

Masterlist

[lr-supernaturaladdict]

Abomination Ch. 01

Chapter 1: Only the Beginning 

Summary: What happens when the girl sent by the king of hell falls in love with the Winchester who refuses to love. What happens when she gets rejected by the older Winchester and she releases her inner demons. What'll happen when the boys find out shes really a demon/angel hybrid after only finding out herself shortly before. Even being raised by the king of hell to know you were at least half demon didn't prepare you for the roller coaster of loving and hating Dean Winchester. You only just begun to realize how much of an abomination you really were.

Word Count: 4242

Warnings: Sexual Content, Swearing

You stood standing in front of the bathroom sink forcing yourself not to look into the mirror. You had to keep yourself from showing what you were, an abomination, the way you were acting surely they could tell. You had one goal set by your adoptive father, to watch over them and report anything they may have been doing to catch him off guard. He said you were different then the rest of them, the demons, even if you didn’t quite know what he meant.

“Y/N?” you heard a knock on the door with a deep voice on the other side that sounded concerned. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine, just needed to freshen myself up a little,” you say as you look up at yourself in the mirror, eyes as black and shiney as onyx. “I will be out in a moment.”

You heard a soft growl on the other side of the door before you heard his deep voice again, “just hurry okay?”

“Okay,” you say turning to the door. “Just don’t start without me.”

All you heard in response was a groan and a thud only assuming he had thrown himself restlessly on the bed. You turned yourself back to the mirror and forced your eyes to turn back into the beautiful (Y/E/C) that drove men and women alike insane. You reached up to pull the ponytail undone that had been holding your (Y/H/C) hair out of your face and sighed as you normally had done after a long night hunting. You had blood on your hoodie and the front of your tight black jeans, all you could think about is how you almost let them see what you were. All you could remember is the breath taking pleasure you had felt taking that creature's life, even when after long dead you continued to butcher it.

As you unzip your hoodie and slide it off, leaving you in only your tight white tank top that you could practically see through, you started to hear another groan, only having more of a deep frustration and footsteps coming towards the bathroom door once more.

“(Y/N) what’s taking you so long?” he muttered deeply.

“You want me to look somewhat good, don’t you?” you smirked as you remembered how much waiting upset him. You let out a slight purr of excitement when you heard the handle start to move. “You don’t think I’m smart enough to lock the door when I want my alone time, silly hunter.”

“You also forget that if I wanted to kick the door down right now I could.” he growled at you.

“And yet you haven’t, because deep down you love when I build the sexual tension,” you chuckled softly and heard a soft mumble for a response, not that you could make out what he was saying.

You stood directly in front of the door now almost forgetting the real reason you had been in the bathroom, to hide your true self from the man you have been having sex with for the past 8 months. The man you’ve known and desperately craved for over two years.

“Go sit on the bed.” you said sternly, trying not to let on that the impatience in his deep was starting to turn you on slightly.

“What do I get out of it?” he said curiously.

“Do it and find out,” you heard the footsteps again and a softer thud then before. You unlock the door and open it slowly, putting your hand against the door frame to lean slightly against it. “Good boy.”

His head was looking down at his feet before he heard your voice again, his hair was short and a light sandy brown, spiked up slightly from when he always would run his large hands through it and suited his ruggedness perfectly. His jawline was sharp almost as though you could cut yourself on it. His cheekbones were beyond perfect and his eyes were the most piercing shade of emerald green you’ve ever seen. His body was almost to perfect as well, so sculpted and tight. He wasn’t wearing the red flannel he had been wearing earlier only his tight black t-shirt and his jeans. You could see almost every well defined muscle under his shirt, muscles you knew very well due to the fact your hands and tongue have touched almost every single one, many times.

He started to stand as you walked towards him. “Winchester, my orders were very clear. You sit back down, now.”

He smirked, it was almost enough to let him do as he wanted, almost. “Are you going to make me, sweetheart?”

You stopped a few feet from him, even now he towered over you. He was handsome, strong, and tall. All the things you’ve always liked in a man's physical appearance, but it wasn’t just his looks that drew you to him. He was kind and gentle, he would never admit to it if you said that out loud to though.

“Well?” His voice brought you out of your trance.

“You know, I could say that I would force you down onto the bed but we both know how that would work. You would grab me and instead do what you wanted,” you smirked looking up at him innocently. “Or I could gently lead you om to the bed and make you think I’m going to do things you always love.”

You could see the deviant smile form on his face as he looks at you with his beautiful green eyes. “I sense another option coming.”

You raise your right hand to your chin and move your gaze slightly to the right of him. “Or I could just tempt you with what you could have and tell you no until you do as I say,” your eyes meet back with his and a smug smile crept over your lips.

He doesn’t budge and looks at you with a stern gaze. “Mhm, sure sweetheart.”

He was calling your bluff, to bad for him you weren’t. You moved both hands to the waistband of your jeans slowly unbuttoning and unzipping them, never breaking your eye contact with him. “Suit yourself big boy.”

You bent slowly pulling your pants down as you went and slowly coming back up to step out of them. He kept his gaze to you as you turned around and lifted your arms slightly, with your back to him. Lifting your arms like you did caused your tank top to lift above your hips where the hemline had been sitting snuggly, showing your black lace thong to him. You start stretching slightly to the left and right before finally bending yourself forwards. You could hear a growl in delight, you knew he always loved how you looked bent over, even better over his knee or as he thrusted his dick inside of you.

“O-okay, if I sit down are you going to stop teasing me and do what I want?” you could hear a slight annoyance in his voice. You looked back at him with your lip curved slightly into a crooked smile.

Slowly standing up right and turning around you purred softly. “I just might,” you moved your hands down your torso slowly and grabbed the hem of your tank top, lifting it off of you slowly. You wanted to show yourself off the the man in front of you. In this moment you didn’t care what you were, all you wanted to do was torture this sexy man in front of you.

You pause slightly as you think about how long it’s been since you’ve actually had sex with him, and realize it’s almost been two weeks since you had been just alone together. You were normally sharing a room with him and his taller younger brother at the nasty hotels, so there wasn’t much privacy. For some reason the younger of the brothers had decided to get his own room tonight.

“You’re killing me you know,” he growled and watched as you finished pulling off your tank top. He bit his plump bottom lip as he watched your breast bounce slightly when you brought your arms back down to your side. You had on a black bra with a little red lace on its trim didn’t leave much to the imagination, it pressed into your breast snuggly and made your boobs almost pop out of it with even the smallest of movements. You knew he would like it because of that reason alone, made it hell during hunts but it made him gleam with happiness when he saw it on you.

He ran his big hand through his hair and back down his face, you couldn’t help but watch his bicep and forearm muscles flex. He finally sat back down on the bed. “Good boy,” you couldn’t help but say as you walked over to him. A playful smile took over his mouth as you stood in front of him and ran your hand through his soft hair. He started to kiss your stomach softly and moved down to your hip, along the waistband of your thong before pulling it into his teeth. As he let go and moved his tongue along your waist you felt a heat run through your stomach and down into your core.

He grabbed your hips roughly and looked up into your eyes, his eyes had darkened with lust and at the same time a spiteful rage that you knew deep down you loved. “You're bad to have kept me waiting (Y/N).”

You moved onto his lap, straddling him and put your hand on his stubbled chin keeping his face in your direction knowing he wanted to bite and nip at your chest as soon as you were on top of him. “Did daddy not like his little toy making him wait?” you moved your face next to his and pressed your lips against his ear before whispering, “Does daddy hate it when his little toy told him what to do?”

You could feel his grip tighten on your hips and his jaw clench, but before you  could do anything else you bucked his hips into yours and the next thing you knew you were on your back. He grabbed your wrists and pulled them above your head roughly holding them there with one of his hands as he worked his belt buckle with the other. “(Y/N), you’re going to wish you didn’t tease me like you did,” he snarled slightly while pulling his belt from his pants. “Now you’re going to listen to me, or this belt is going to leave a nice red mark on that round ass of yours. Understood?” he set the belt next to him, bent in half slightly.

You nodded and sighed softly. “Yes daddy.”

He bit your neck roughly and moved the hand not holding yours in place up your thigh. “Good girl,” His hands warm, quick movement and his low rumbling tone into your neck made you shiver. You could feel him smile into your neck as he started to rub your through the little fabric there was, feeling him slowly move the fabric to separate the lips of your pussy.

You let out a soft moan as he bit your jaw softly and moved his thumb over your clit, making sure to rub it softly as to torture you as much as he could. “Mm, daddy’s toy is nice and wet already. Do you want daddy to fuck you (Y/N)?” he growled into your ear and you replied with a nod.

He moved his hand that had been holding yours down to your breast, almost becoming to impatient as he pulls your bra down and letting your boobs spill out. He kissed down your neck, licking your skin gently as he moved down your boob taking your nipple in his mouth, sucking it softly. “D-daddy..” you let out a soft moan.

He bit down on your nipple softly and looked up at you. You knew he could tell that the gentleness of his touch on your clit was driving you mad, so much you almost regret making him listen to you. He released your nipple with a soft wet popping noise, you could see the satisfaction in his eyes. “Yes sweetheart,” his touch seemed to be getting harder but still as slow as it was.

You bit your slip slightly looking at him, bucking your hips into his hand wanting him to touch you more. “Please, D-daddy.. I want m-more…”

He started to moved down your body further and stopped all movement with his hand, making you whimper.  You felt the bed shift more as he sat up. “Look at me (Y/N),” you looked up at him as he smiled, you pouted slightly. “I want you to touch yourself.”

You hesitated for a moment until you saw his brow furrow, you didn’t want the belt tonight so you complied with his demand. You started to pull down your thong halfway expecting him to help but when he didn’t you finished taking it off on your own, you knew if sex was the final goal for the night he was probably going to just rip them off and you’ve become fond of this pair unlike the others.

“Yes, sir,” you moved your hand into your crotch and started rubbing softly looking up at his pleased facial expression.

“Good girl, now I want you to make yourself climax for me as I watch you.”

You bit your lip and started to rub your clit softly, slowly getting faster. You hated but loved at how dominate he got when he wants something. You slide one finger in your entrance as you rub your clit harder, closing your eyes and pressing your head back into the pillow underneath your head. You barely hear his own moan from the satisfaction of watching you over your own.

As you got closer to coming you rub yourself faster, opening your eyes to see him standing next to the bed. You had been too busy enjoying your sensation to notice the weight had lifted from the bed. He was shirtless now, his muscles more defined without his shirt on. You couldn’t help but stare at his perfect body, moaning louder as you reach your climax. His abs were hardened and you could see faint scars from the few times hunts went south but you still thought even those were mouth watering. His chest was chiseled and his shoulders were wide, almost making his body a V shape from there to his waist.

As you start to come down from your climax he leaned down slightly over your face and grins. “As much I loved watching you please yourself, it’s my turn. Hands and knees,” you looked at him slightly confused and dazed until he raises his voice. “Now (Y/N)!”

You quickly realized what he had told you to do and did so, you made sure to spread your legs far enough to rest between them if that's what he wanted to do. When you heard his zipper and the soft thud as his pants hit the ground you couldn’t help but smile. All you wanted was thick cock inside of you and before you knew it a whimper left your lips.

His callused hand ran down from your back down onto your ass and massaged it softly, you moved back into it as much as he would let you and you could almost swear you heard a soft groan coming from him. The next thing you knew you felt the tip of it pressing against the entrance softly as one of his hands ran up your back to your hair, leaving the other firmly on your ass.

He gripped your hair tightly and pulled your head back making you look at him. “What do you say, princess?” you see his lip perk up in a smile.

You could see his evil grin even in his eyes, lustful and angry much like they always are when he’s like this. You bite your lip and meet his gawking gaze whimpering softly wanting him to fill every inch of you. “Please, Dean,” you finally say as calmly as you could.

Before you knew it a hand had struck your ass firmly and left it throbbing. You hear a growl come out of his throat as he pulls your hair harder and presses his lips to your ear. “You know what you’re supposed to call me when I have you like this (Y/N). Now try that again before I use the belt,” he whispers it softly but his deep raspy voice in your ear sent shivers down your spin.

As you try to answer his demand you felt a sharp pain in your neck as he bit down into it, leaving it purple and knowing it would bruise. It was a good thing you're able to will yourself to heal quickly.

He growls again gripping your sore ass cheek roughly making a knot form in your throat. You swallow roughly as you push into his hand. “Please, daddy. I-I need you inside of m-me,” you say shakily.

You can feel him smile into your shoulder before sliding the head of his dick inside of you, making sure you adjust before trying to go in further. “Fuck, (Y/N). How is it even possible to be this tight again?” he groans into your back.

As he slides it in slowly inch by inch you let off soft moans allowing him to know that you were enjoying his thickness. You push back into him urging him you were ready for his full force but when he was fully in he just kept it there, you could feel it throbbing and you were sure he felt the tightening around himself when you became impatient. “Da-daddy, pl-please” you manage to let out with a broken tone.

“Say what you want baby,” determined to keep one hand in your hair tightly he reached around in front of you, grazing your pussy gently.

“I want you to fuck me until I can’t scream anymore, daddy,” you say sternly as you press yourself further into him but at the same time urging him to touch you with his strong hand.

He pulls it out slowly making you let out a whimper thinking that he wasn’t happy with your pleading, until he thrusts it back into you with full thrusts. He has a way of leaving you on edge until he gets what he wants, but you love it.

“Oh GOD,” you scream as he continues to thrust into you, harder and harder with each one. He pulls your hair and makes your body come up with him until you were on just your knees, back against his strong chest.

He kissed your neck and moved the hand that had once been in your hair to your breast, kneading them in his hand. He started to slow his pace a bit that left you needy and curious all at once. Dean rarely ever was actually affectionate but you didn’t blame him because you knew of his past, although you did crave his touch. Especially his kiss, which of all the things you’ve done together kissing was not one. He always kept his affection mean and sexual, never loving even when you craved it he was always the one calling the shots. He often used his strength against you, if only he knew what real strength you had and that you only let him do those things because you wanted them.

As he kept his slow pace he moved his hand not on your breast to your stomach, digging his strong fingers into it tightly. “Tell me I’m the only one who gets to fuck you, princess,” he growled in your ear thrusting into you deeply.

“You’re the only one who gets to fuck me, daddy,” you purr as you lean back against him as much as physically possible.

“Good,” his tone was soft for a moment before he groaned and started thrusting into you harder again. He used the hand on your stomach to keep you in place as he kept going faster and harder.

You started to moan loudly as he hit your g-spot almost screaming, getting closer to the edge. He moved the hand he had on your breast to your neck and started to choke you softly. “Such a good little slut for daddy,” he groaned into your neck as he felt you tighten around him. “Come for me, princess.”

Just like that you were coming for him, his demand pushing you over the edge you were on. “Daddy, o-oh god,” you screamed loudly.

He pushed you back onto your hands and knees, gripping your hips tightly as he pumped into you as hard and fast as he could. His hands so tight on your hips you could almost feel the bruises form, but if felt so you didn’t care and soon you were already on the edge again. “You’re going to hold it sweetheart, until I’m ready,” he said as he felt you clenching around his thickness again.

All you could do is nod in response as you forced yourself to hold your climax, but his hard movement into you hitting all the right spots had you wanting to come more then anything.

He ran his hand up your back and gripped your hair again pulling it tightly. His breath had gotten heavier and his voice was deeper. “Alright princess, come for daddy,” you could almost hear the smirk on his voice.

You let yourself release as you felt the bucking of his hips start to lose its rhythm and the warmness of his own release just made yours feel so much better. “Mmhmm, daddy,” you moaned as you pressed back into his making sure not to lose any of the feeling he had given you.

He groaned and patted your butt softly signalling you he was done. You bit your lip as he pulled out of you, enjoying the last feeling of him inside of you before finishing pulling it out of you. “Now that was a good girl,” you could hear the smirk on his lips in his voice.

You moved over to the side of the bed to let him lay down and soon felt the urge to sleep flood you. “Dean?” you whimpered.

“Yeah sweetheart?” he asked as you felt a blanket cover your body and the bed shake softly as he laid down next to you.

“Were you concerned when I took that much anger out on the vamp tonight?” you rolled over to face him.

He put his hand on your cheek, cupping it gently and smiled softly, you could even see the smile in his eyes. “Of course I was, Sam and I both were, but that’s because we care about you (Y/N),” he said almost sweetly. “Are you alright? I mean do you know why you let so much anger out like that?”

You couldn’t help but stare into his eyes for a moment, wanting nothing more than to kiss the kind man in front of you, but you knew better. “Thanks Dean, and no I don’t really know why. It’s almost like I just felt the need to do it,” you lied to him. You knew exactly why you did it, the demon inside of you wants out, the goodness in you almost let it. You wanted blood.

“Well, talk to me if you need to okay sweetheart? I mean it,” he smiled again before removing his hand from your cheek.

“You know I will.”

“Good,” he huffed as he rolled over to face the other direction. “Goodnight, (Y/N).”

You couldn’t help but stare at him, even it being just the back of his head. Did Dean Winchester just show and say he actually genuinely cared about you? No, he couldn’t. You were just a hunting companion and friend to both brothers, but also a fuck doll for Dean, right? Maybe he did though and maybe he would actually show that to you in more ways than one. Has the man you’ve known for years gone soft? No, he’s Dean fucking winchester, he only goes soft for his brother and the angel. Why do you care so much if Dean did care?

You shook your head semi violently to break your trance and roll over to face the other side of the room, back to back with Dean. He was one of the nicest men you’ve come to know. He made you smile and laugh, a thing very hard to do knowing where you grew up. You both loved the same unhealthy food and classic rock music. You even could out drink him half the time, of course you have a little different of blood to alcohol tolerance not being all human

You ran your hand over your face trying to cloud your thoughts with anything but him. Nothing seemed to work.

You looked over your shoulder and smiled at him as you saw his body move slowly, hearing his faint snore. Maybe it isn’t just in a normal way you care about him, maybe you lov- no you couldn’t. You scrunched your face and swallowed deeply.

You’re in love with Dean Winchester.

Chapter 2

Masterlist

[deanscarlett]

Living Conditions

For Mimi’s RomCom Fluff challenge @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog , and Andi’s “Back in the Game” writing challenge @ellen-reincarnated1967 .

Author: Salvachester

Prompts: #29 from Failure to Launch (Mimi’s) and #21 (Andi’s) 

Characters: Dean, Reader, Sam (small appearance)

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Warnings: Language, sexual situations (not very explicit), alcohol use, hardcore pining, mentions of masturbation, misunderstandings, awkward situations, angsty situations (plot device), fluff, humor.

Word Count: 6040 words

A/N: Thanks to my lovely gals Kayte @kayteonline and Sammit @sammit-janet for betaing it. The prompts appear in bold (in order of appearance, Andi’s, then Mimi’s). This is my first fic after all the Vancon madness began (like, May?), it took me a while to get my muse back in the game, but it’s finally here. Hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. <3

Dean Gif credit: thejabberwock - Smallville Gif credit: haleyjames

Lots of people tagged under the cut :D (you can add/remove yourself from the list here)

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

Your last name: submit What is this? (Experimental, may not work) document.getElementById("submit2").addEventListener('click', function(){ var s = escapeRegExp('Y/L/N'); 'Y/L/N' var val = new RegExp(s, "ig"); walk(document.body, val, document.getElementById("inputTxt2").value); }); function escapeRegExp(str) { return str.replace(/[\-\[\]\/\{\}\(\)\*\+\?\.\\\^\$\|]/g, "\\$&"); }

Your nickname: submit What is this? (Experimental, may not work) document.getElementById("submit3").addEventListener('click', function(){ var s = escapeRegExp('Y/NN'); 'Y/NN' var val = new RegExp(s, "ig"); walk(document.body, val, document.getElementById("inputTxt3").value); }); function escapeRegExp(str) { return str.replace(/[\-\[\]\/\{\}\(\)\*\+\?\.\\\^\$\|]/g, "\\$&"); }

Friendship is never easy. Especially when your friend is the bravest, most handsome and loyal man you’ve ever met, and you happen to live under the same roof.

Being a hunter is no walk in the park, everybody knows that, but some people can handle it better than others. Take Y/N Y/L/N, for instance; girl grew up in the life, always felt normal with being a hunter. Never formed meaningful attachments, a hook-up here and there, and she was ready to roll out of town looking for the next job.

That is, until she met the Winchesters. Or rather, until she met Dean.

Y/N wasn’t a fan of sharing a job with other hunters, she considered herself a solo player. If she fucked up, it was her own fault and she could deal with it and learn her lesson. But if someone else fucked up… Oh boy, be ready to run because she could get nasty.

Now, the hunt she and the boys ran into each other was a simple salt and burn; no hiccups there. Sure, Dean had thrown a few flirty glances her way, but she merely brushed them off. Another rule of hunting… don’t get involved with a fellow hunter, even if it’s just a fuck to let off some steam. You never know when you might run into them again and have an awkward moment.

Of course, she would be lying through her teeth if she told you she didn’t consider the possibility of having one wild night with the eldest Winchester; because DAMN, that man was built for sin. And given her selection of men… Yeah, Dean definitely fit the profile down to the letter.

The next hunt she ran into them was a little more complicated: vampires’ nest with at least ten fanged motherfuckers keeping people as some sort of morbid pantry. Now, there were a couple of fuckups here and there, but it wasn’t anyone’s fault, really. Y/N got kinda pissy at Dean for setting himself as bait and almost getting himself killed, but she didn’t make a big deal out of it. The hunt ended in success, and that’s what really mattered.

Now Dean, she noticed, had been shamelessly eyeing her at the bar while the three were having a small celebration for a job well done; and same as last time, she ignored him. Y/N ended up sleeping with some biker that was the spitting image of Zack Wylde. Couldn’t say no to that, could she? Of course, she would later on regret the choice ‘cause the dude was one selfish dick that didn’t bother giving her one proper orgasm. Asshole.

And, of course, Dean ended up taking that tall, busty blonde back to his room. Now that one definitely had a night she would never forget, if her moans and screams coming from his room were any indication.

Oh well, better luck next time, Y/N.

After that, the Winchesters and her kept in touch, mostly to exchange info, or to drop some line about some job close to either party; and eventually they started working together. As their friendship progressed, she couldn’t help feeling curious about Dean. Watching him pick up women using terrible lines and see it work like a charm was like watching some documentary about wildlife mating in the Discovery Channel; disturbing, entertaining, and highly addictive. Sure as hell he had charm. And looks, let’s not forget those looks.

But even when Dean kept making merry sport out of banging every hottie in a five-mile radius, he would, from time to time, send some flirty comment her way.

Whether he was serious or merely jesting, Y/N couldn’t tell; but a part of her kept having all these what-ifs popping in her brain and wouldn’t leave her the fuck alone. She wasted no time burying those musings deep, deep down where she kept all her dark secrets and dreams.

Remember when I told you a hunter’s life is no walk in the park? Well, here’s where things get complicated…

You see, when you’re a hunter and you don’t move around, like ever -or don't live in a safe, warded bunker, like the Winchesters- monsters definitely find you. Yeah, yeah, she should have known better, trust me, she knows that, but the little cabin she lived at was her family’s, so it held a whole lot of sentimental value.

Homeless and heartbroken at the loss of her home and possessions after the arson, Y/N couldn’t refuse Sam and Dean’s offer to move in with them. Af first, it was supposed to be temporary until she found a place of her own. But as we know, things don’t always turn out the way we expect or want…

“You know, I think I’m definitely gonna borrow one of these, or all,” Dean inspects her vinyl collection, an amused smile on his face ‘cause he knows she’s gonna tell him to go fuck himself, or some other colorful insult. She doesn’t mean it, of course, it’s just the way they interact and joke around.

“You do that and you lose your hands, or your dick,” Y/N retorts with a glare that is so fake you have to wonder how the hell she pulls off all the lies she has to say in the name of hunting.

Dean instantly leaves the record, Rolling Stones’ Sticky Fingers -yes, there’s some irony there, I know- back where it belongs, and raises his hands in mock surrender. “Ouch, no need to get nasty, sweetheart.” He can’t stop grinning when he sees her loosen up and burst into laughter.

It’s weird for him to have a girl living in the bunker. It’s nice for sure, because in an attempt to earn her keep, she always cooks for them, or helps with the chores without a peep. Not that he wants Y/N to be their maid, oh no, that is not what this is about; he just loves having homey, succulent and yummy meals on a daily basis. In a way, it makes him feel taken care of, and he could definitely get used to that.

And of course, what’s the downside of having a hot chick rooming up with you?

Well, as you can guess, the downside is she doesn’t seem to want anything to do with him, and Dean is starting to figure that out. Which it sucks, really, because he’s already having lusty thoughts, and harboring one hell of a massive crush on her -courtesy of her caretaking and cooking skills- and there’s no turning back. So he does what he does best; he puts on the proverbial mask and acts as if there’s nothing going on.

Seriously, Dean, could you be more obvious? Dude, if you keep tilting your head like that and stare at her like she’s the biggest, yummiest piece of pie, she’s gonna fucking notice and run off in the opposite direction. Calm down, please.

The first few months go by without any trouble; if you don’t count Dean having to see Y/N’s underwear in the laundry room. It piques his curiosity and has his brain running all sorts of imagery, but it doesn’t go beyond that. Okay, maybe a quick release in the shower from time to time.

He definitely enjoys her company, even more when they are side by side in the couch binge watching all six Star Wars, the Lord of the Rings trilogy, or Die Hard I and II. The fact that she mouths a great deal of the dialogues makes Dean’s attraction grow stronger and stronger.

Now, the tough moments are when either of them need stitches or patching up, and having to touch her skin -or the other way round- has his mind reeling with another kind of want. It’s just so nice having someone taking care of you that you can’t help wanting more. And Dean definitely wants more. But what’s he gonna do? As far as he is concerned, the girl’s not interested, so he settles with just musing.

Sigh, Dean, if only you knew Y/N, deep down, has the same train of thoughts. Hang in there, kitten, it’s almost Friday.

So far, Y/N is hiding her itty bitty crush rather well. Dean, on the other hand, is not doing so hot.

I mean, Dean is doing his best to keep it a harmless crush. At least, that’s what he keeps telling himself. But, when you’re fucking that waitress -Rachel? Raquel? I don’t even know- into the mattress and you call out the name of your ‘harmless crush’, you definitely gotta reconsider the label. And run like the fucking devil before that flying, pointy heel impales your occipital lobe.

Neither Sam, nor Y/N know the actual truth about that fiasco. As far as they know, that chick was all kinds of crazy.

Very classy, Dean, let’s blame the waitress on your fuckup.

Y/N, on the other hand, keeps her normal pattern of sleeping with bikers and metalheads. Of course, nobody knows she’s doing it to keep Mr Sexy-As-Fuck Winchester out of her mind. Which works. Kinda.

I mean, how much more of this can you stand when each hook up feels shittier and shittier and all you really want is to hold on to someone -cough, Dean, cough- and never let go? Girl, open your fucking eyes already and admit you want him!

But nope, she refuses to admit it. What’s the point? Getting all hyped up and shot down? No fucking thank you.

If you think this is the cusp of all this complication, you’re in for a rude awakening.

Enter the truly awkward and embarrassing situations.

Everybody in the circle knows that Garth is not the sharpest tool in the shed, for sure he’s cool and all, but the guy can turn a simple hunt into a clusterfuck, so when he calls for help, nobody is really surprised.

After sorting out who’s gonna come to his aid -yes, you guessed right, rock papers scissors; how else were they gonna decide?- Sam heads out to New Jersey to help the hapless hunter; leaving Dean and Y/N to deal with a job in Louisiana.

Y/N is not a big fan of Sam borrowing her car, but she has no choice. Have you met Dean? Yeah, try and pry Baby out of his hands. Go ahead, try.

So this leaves Dean and Y/N working alone. Oh boy, this should be interesting…

The drive to Louisiana is smooth, they mostly discuss the case and their theories about what monsters they’ll be encountering; all very professional. Too professional if you ask me; it’s like they are trying to avoid loosening up and truly enjoy each other’s company.

To Dean’s dismay, Y/N gets a room for herself. Yeah, what were you expecting, dude? But look at the bright side, you can get off at your own leisure.

Every hunter knows dealing with ghouls can be fucking disgusting, believe me, so when they are done with them, Y/N is covered in various icky fluids and she just can’t wait to get a shower and go back to smelling like a daisy. It’s all nice and dandy, except for the pipes breaking on her, getting her all covered in muddy water. Yuck.

As the cunning little hunter she is, she lockpicks Dean’s room to use his shower while he’s out crossing some t’s and dotting some i’s with the local authorities. He should be away for a good while, right?

Guess again, my friend…

So as she’s done showering and about to put on her clothes, she doesn’t hear Dean opening the front door.

Dean, cautious as he is, draws his gun the moment he hears noises in his bathroom and storms in.

Now, let me tell you something about Y/N; the woman can see a three-headed monster and she’s not gonna make a noise; but a gorgeous hunter pointing a gun at her naked self? Oh yeah, expect yelling and screams. Not right away, just give her brain some time to react.

If you pay attention, you can actually hear Dean’s jaw hit the floor; opposite to him, Y/N is frozen in place, stark nude and holding her hairbrush like a deadly weapon aimed at him. It’s almost adorable.

While Dean is trying to keep his cool and not make an idiot out of himself -because let’s face it, his dick is screaming at him and wants to take charge of all the thinking- Y/N’s brain is just catching up with the situation.

“What are you doing he-”

Dean doesn’t get to finish his question because Y/N is screaming and yelling and hurling a variety of non-lethal objects at him. The endless string of ‘get out’s’ can surely be heard in the next town.

See? I told you she would scream.

As Dean runs out of the bathroom, ducking the projectiles, he closes the door and sits on his bed in a futile attempt to calm his brain and his happy dick. He can still hear her huffing and grunting in anger and frustration.

He just saw Y/N totally and utterly naked. Definitely one hell of a glorious view. Yup, that’s gonna get a top place in the shelf of his memories. Half an hour passes and she isn’t out yet; he doesn’t worry though because he knows she’s embarrassed and bracing herself to face him.

When she finally emerges, Dean’s blood freezes at the murderous look she throws his way.

“Why are you glaring at me?” He asks as if nothing’s just happened. Oh Dean, either you are too adorable, or one provocative little shit. I’ll wager both.

“I’m hoping you’ll spontaneously combust.”

Uh oh, run, Dean, run!

“Why?”

Really, Dean? You gonna poke that bear? Do you wanna put your head in a hornet's hive while we are at it?

“Why? Are you seriously asking me WHY?! You’ve just barged in while I was in the bathroom, don’t you ever knock?”

Now now, Y/N, don’t act so offended, we all know it didn’t really bother you that Dean saw you in your birthday suit. And do I need to remind you whose room it is?

Dean’s little happy moment is blown away by her words and instantly stands his ground. “I should ask you the same question, sweetheart, given this is my room. Now, calm down.”

Seriously, dude, stop poking the bear. Calling her ‘sweetheart’ and telling her to calm down right this moment is not gonna do you any good.

“You just saw me naked, I don’t care if it’s your room. You just. Saw me. Naked. I cannot fucking calm down!”

Yes, Y/N, keep spelling it out for him, it’s not like Dean’s brain is back to putting that scene on repeat. Oh wait, it is.

“How the fuck was I to know you were in my bathroom?” He’s right, nobody can argue with that.

So now that her anger is fading and she’s finally realizing he’s right, Y/N explains the incident with her shower, tucks her tail between her legs and returns to her room to pack.

Thank god the hunt is done; a few more hours and she’ll be able to hide in her room until hell freezes over.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out the ride back home is quiet, save for the loud music playing non stop, and, you can imagine, they avoid any sort of eye contact as much as they can.

Awkward...

Sam frowns in confusion when Y/N runs past him in the library barely uttering a ‘hello’ to him; and as soon as he hears her door slam shut, he faces Dean, who merely shrugs at his brother’s silent question.

It takes a couple of days before Y/N spills the beans about the bathroom incident; and Sam can’t stop laughing when she starts calling Dean a peeping tom.

Now that we are on the subject of Sam, let me tell you that he has no fucking clue about Y/N’s ever growing crush on his brother; but Sam is very much aware of Dean’s, but since his big brother never mentioned anything, he’s just gonna mind his own business and let him be. Dean is a grown man, he doesn’t need -or want- relationship advice. If Dean asks, Sam will gladly help.

Going back to the bathroom incident, Y/N was so frozen in that moment that she didn’t register the glint in Dean’s eyes nor his growing bulge, for that matter. As far as she knows, Dean was unaffected by her naked body, and that surely stings.

Oh, honey, if only you knew how wrong you are… You can bet your ass Dean spends several minutes in the shower reliving that moment.

After this debacle, their relationship shifts a little and they don’t tease each other as much as they used to; they both feel it, and it fucking sucks.

Y/N reached the point where she admitted it to herself how she feels about Dean. Fucking finally, girl! But she’s still under the wrong assumption that Dean is not interested in her; and about a month ago, she decided to not hook up with random guys anymore.

It’s just so taxing to sleep with below average men when your mind, heart and body only want that one perfect specimen. As they say, better alone than in bad company. But of course the lack of release and human contact is making her cranky. Lately, she snaps at him over the littlest things.

Dean also dropped his number of conquests, but for an entire different reason. How many times are you gonna say the wrong name in bed before realizing you've got a problem? I’m sure that knee in the jewels was a fucking sign.

Now, before we get to the next part, let me tell you that Sam has the best timing ever -or worst, depending on how you see it- for random hookups that take him five states away. Or maybe he’s just so damn tired of the cold vibes and petty arguments between Y/N and his brother that he makes up the lamest excuses to get out of dodge.

Seeing as Sam is gone -nobody knows for how long- and that it leaves her alone with Dean, Y/N decides one more try in the hookup department, so she heads for the nearest bar she can find.

Dean, on the other hand, stays in and hits the bottle because what else there is to do? His crush on Y/N evolved into something much stronger and he already lost any hope. And the fact she’s out there getting laid with some douchebag does nothing but add shit to the pile of misery.

Yeah, it breaks your heart to see him so hopeless. Poor Dean.

But here’s what Dean doesn’t know: Y/N’s plan is failing miserably, not for the lack of candidates, but because she shoots down every single one of them, even the good ones. Instead, she hits the bottle as well, and fuels her own pity party.

Much like Dean, she feels nothing’s ever gonna happen between them, and it hurts to her very soul. Just because she never had a meaningful relationship doesn’t mean she was never in love. She was, twice, but never really took a chance. But with Dean, she was ready to take that plunge, if only he ever shown some interest in her other than platonic.

Yes, she remembers Dean flirting with her in the early days, but as far as she’s concerned, that was Dean just being Dean: a playful guy that loves getting in every girl’s pants.

She finally gives up at the bar and drives home. Reckless as fuck, if you ask me, seeing that she’s kinda drunk, but she makes it home safely, thank god.

As we know, alcohol drops inhibitions and filters, so it’s no surprise that Dean, who is also half drunk, makes a not-so-tactful remark about Y/N striking out at the bar. Part of his brain realizes it and sends the necessary warnings, so Dean is ready and expecting to be clocked in the jaw when he sees her lunging at him; and in all honesty, he reckons he deserves it, so he closes his eyes and waits for the shit to hit the fan.

Instead of feeling her fist collide into his jaw, he feels her lips ravaging his own.

Oh my… Yeah, he definitely didn’t expect that.

He doesn’t question her -why would he?!- he just rolls with it and enjoys the moment.

Now, before you start worrying about alcohol and sex, they aren’t as drunk as to not realize what’s going on, they are very much aware, trust me. Besides, you know how much they’ve been pining after each other.

So, back to the moment at hand… They waste no time tearing each other’s clothes and bumping into walls on their way to his bedroom. Dean is on cloud nine and completely ignoring that nagging feeling in his gut that tells him this is just another hookup for her. And, as you can guess, Y/N is thinking the same.

Guys, you really are two peas in a pod. It’s getting frustrating.

As you might recall -how could you not- Dean’s already seen her naked, so there’s nothing new, except that now he can touch; and, oh boy, does he touch.

Now, Y/N, on the other hand, is seeing him for the first time, and oh god almighty, does she like what she sees. Far back in her mind, her brain makes a small Star Wars reference -‘Look at the size of that thing’- the moment she sees his dick.

If she wasn’t so caught up in the moment, she’d probably giggle at her own silly joke.

Every fantasy she ever had about Dean doesn’t do any justice to the real thing; it’s not just that he’s well endowed and with a body that is borderline perfect, or that she’s spent months idealizing him. No, he actually is that good; and attentive and thorough. She’s honestly mind blown when he makes her come just with his fingers and tongue. Like, the guy is so busy eating her out that Y/N has no doubt he’s seriously enjoying it.

I don’t think she can name one guy who made her come like this, or made it all about her.

Which brings us to the next moment…

In the afterglow of her own bliss, she attempts to return the favor, but Dean cuts her short, mumbling something about not being able to last and wanting to be inside.

Wow… Did he seriously just turn down a blowjob so he could come inside of her and not disappoint her? Is he for real? Is it the same with every other girl? Where has he been all her life?

Okay, enough with the questions, Y/N, get your mind back in that bed.

The act itself can only be described as intense; for the most part, they were quiet in the sense of barely no talking, but yes, you can bet they were very loud.

Whether for the exertion, the alcohol, or finally getting into each other’s pants -probably all three- they fall asleep rather fast. In addition, there’s that bliss that fills the both of them; but that one is short-lived.

You see, when Y/N wakes up, long before Dean does, she feels this sense of regret. Not because she’s changing her mind about wanting to sleep with him, but because this one shared moment changes her whole perspective. More than ever, she realizes how much she loves Dean and how much she wants to be with him for as long as they live. But here’s the thing: she still believes this is just another meaningless encounter for him. She over-analyzes the situation and reaches the conclusion he was probably just bored. Which, as you know, it’s not the case.

But she doesn’t know that, nor she remembers the sweet kisses Dean kept giving her all night -blame the alcohol, of course- so the first thing she does is sneak out of his bed.

When Dean wakes up, foggy minded and ready to spoon the fuck out of her, and sees she’s gone, he feels this tight knot in his chest that prompts his brain to shout ‘I told you to not get close, you idiot’ over and over again.

Painful, eh?

Well, it gets worse, let me tell you; because when they run into each other in the kitchen, and Dean is slightly considering bringing up the subject and try to figure her out and hint his interest in her -because that one tiny part of him is still hopeful there’s something more between them- she blows his world to kingdom come.

“Listen, that was fun and all, but let’s not do that again. We are good friends, let’s not ruin it, okay?”

If you listen closely, you can hear his heart breaking. Talk about a surgical, preemptive strike.

You gotta hand it to Y/N, though, she has mastered the Dean Winchester playbook down to the letter; because that’s exactly the type of move he does when he’s into a girl and he doesn’t wanna get hurt. Hurt ‘em before they hurt you.

Of course, for all his brilliance and genius, it’s in moments like this when his brain stops cooperating. Instead of analyzing the situation and look for telltale signs that she’s lying -and believe me, the signs are there and glowing like a fucking neon sign on a strip club- he takes her statement at face value and agrees.

In his own misery, he doesn’t notice the pain in her eyes.

After that, everything goes downhill.

Y/N decides it’s time to go, so she finds a new cabin and moves out a month after sleeping with Dean.

In case you are wondering, Sam has no clue that they slept together, so it takes him by surprise when she drops the news. Of course, one look at his brooding brother cues him that something must have happened.

At first, Dean beats around the bushes, making up excuses about missing her food -which is true, but not the main reason why he looks like someone shot his puppy. Sam, of course, doesn’t buy it, so he brings up Dean’s crush.

To Sam’s surprise, Dean doesn’t even bother lying about it, and eventually clues him in about that one fateful night.

“I’m so sorry, Dean,” Sam offers. He certainly would like to help more, but what else can he say? He’s not gonna go around playing Cupid to a pair of grownups. It would not only be weird, but also disrespectful of her choices, so if Y/N isn’t into his brother, there’s nothing he can do.

Damn it, Sam, you are as blind as your brother.

Meanwhile, in a little cabin in Montana, Y/N does her own share of brooding. She loads herself with cases to keep her mind off Dean; she goes out of her way to make sure to not run into them while on a job.

Of course, Sam calls and texts her from time to time, and it’s the single-word replies that make him wonder if they both were mistaken about her not wanting Dean. Why else would she part ways like that, right? But no matter how many times Sam explains it to him, Dean thinks his brother is reaching and seeing things that aren’t there.

You should listen to your brother, Dean.

Now, Y/N is reaching that point where anger and pain are ruling over her; she kicks herself for falling for him, she blames herself for being so damn weak. She works, she listens to power ballads until her ears bleed, she drinks, she cries herself to sleep. Rinse and repeat times infinity. Yeah… she’s doing awesome.

The woman literally became a ticking time bomb, every tiny little thing sets her off. So you can imagine her reaction when she runs into the brothers while working a case in Dallas.

Dean is taken aback, but he acts like nothing is happening. Bullshit, all his feelings are overwhelming him and feels like he’s dying inside.

Back in her motel room, Y/N is spiraling out of control, she hurls stuff all over the place. Yes, you guessed right, she’s had a few whiskeys so she’s not exactly thinking clearly. Which is why she storms out of her room to find Dean and tell him a piece of her mind.

I don’t know about you, but I’m honestly scared for him.

Dean frowns in confusion and draws his gun when the incessant pounding on the door starts. When he sees her through the peephole, he is both relieved and sad. Placing his gun back in its holster, he opens the door and readies himself to face Hurricane Y/N.

Like, she’s in such a furious state that she doesn’t even let Dean ask her to come in, she just storms in past him and takes the stage.

“You are an asshole, you know?”

Well, here we go…

“You are a fucking asshole,” she repeats, all red eyed and shaking.

Dean doesn’t like her tone one bit. “Excuse me? What the fuck is your problem, Y/N?”

“You! You are my problem, you ruined my life! You destroyed it, you jackass!” She’s pointing her finger at him and you almost gotta wonder if she’s gonna shoot some death ray from it. That’s how mad she is.

“Me? What did I ever do to you?” Poor Dean, he is so damn confused.

“Showing up in my life, for starters! I was fine being alone... being on my own, and then you show up. I lose my home, and I don’t have anywhere to go, and you guys take me in, and everything was so perfect and nice and then I lost it all!”

Dean has to blink several times, because he can’t possibly understand what she’s getting at with all that verbal diarrhea.

“And believe me, I did not want that because I had a good life before you. Well, not good… but… it was okay. Well, it… it was empty, actually, but at least I was blissfully unaware of how miserable I was. Whereas now… because of you… I am acutely aware of how completely and totally unhappy I am. Thank you for that.”

Dean tries to interject a word, but Y/N raises her index finger, glaring at him. “I’m not done venting!”

Yup, we can tell, honey. Go on, let it all out.

“I can’t even get properly laid, thanks to you!”

Now Dean’s confusion and anger matches her own. “Me? Why the fuck are you blaming me?! You are crazy!”

“Why? I’ll tell you why,” Y/N’s hands go to her hips, she drops her tone several registers, and starts impersonating Dean.

Yup, you heard that right.

“Hi, I’m Dean Winchester, I’m the most badass, sexiest motherfucker in town. I can be the sweetest asshole you’ve ever met. I’m gonna blind you with my perfect smile, my penetrating eyes and my perfect body, I’m gonna rock your world, be the best sex you’ve ever had to the point of ruining you for all other men. I’m gonna make you fall for me and then break your heart and move on to the next bitch in no time, ‘cause I'm that awesome.”

If it wasn't for the extreme hurt in her eyes, I’d probably be rolling on the floor, laughing.

Dean is offended at the impersonation, he’s so fucking furious that it takes him several seconds to register the ‘fall for’ and ‘break your heart’ parts; and when he finally does register it, he starts laughing.

Yes, he’s actually laughing, full-body-shaking kind of laughter. And as you can guess, Y/N is about to go postal on him, she doesn’t realize he is laughing not to mock her, but because he’s relieved.

Before she has a chance to lunge at him, he starts connecting the dots out loud. “Are you telling me, all this time, you actually were into me? But you told me you didn’t want anything to happen between us?” Okay, Dean, hurry the fuck up before she hurts you.

“Yes! But why bother telling you, Mr Love ‘Em and Leave ‘Em? I had to make my move first, before you had a chance to ditch me.” She’s sobbing so badly you can’t help feeling sorry for her. “You ruined me, Dean.”

Seeing as she’s obviously gonna keep ranting, and not gonna let him get a word in, Dean does what he must to shut her up, and hopefully, calm her down too.

He pulls her into his arms and kisses her. Desperately and passionately. And it works, because when Y/N calms down a bit, she breaks the kiss with a loud gasp and stares questioningly into his gorgeous eyes; and Dean can finally speak.

“You had it all wrong, Y/NN, we had it all wrong. I’ve been crazy about you for a while, but figured you only wanted to be friends, so I didn’t say anything, and then that happened, and well, you made your intentions pretty clear.”

Remember when Y/N was frozen in the bathroom? Well, it’s the exact same situation, except she’s not naked at the moment. She stands there, thinking, until she bursts into hysterical laughter.

Peas in a pod, definitely.

“All this time I was fucking suffering in vain?” She keeps laughing, but now she’s throwing her arms around Dean’s waist. “And you were suffering too?”

Dean offers a smile in return; and she starts laughing even harder. “We are fucking idiots!”

Yes, guys, you fucking are.

And now Dean is laughing too, but soon he dives back in and kisses her again. This time is more deliberate, they take their time, they smile into the kiss. It’s all very cute and sweet until everything else kicks in and, as you can guess, they start peeling each other’s clothes and getting in bed.

This time, Dean takes all the time in the world and teases her; and she totally loves it. He’s so dedicated, so thorough, so sweet, so… perfect. She loves that he takes mental notes of what makes her tick, she loves that he makes her his priority. She simply loves him.

Dean is equally happy and making sure she gets the most pleasure out of it; he loves exploring her body, he loves her moans, he loves everything about her, even her temper tantrums.

He’s definitely a keeper, that one.

Happy and blissful, they lie in each other’s arms; neither can still believe this is actually, properly, happening.

I gotta tell you, it totally makes your heart swell the way Dean smiles as he watches her talk. Boy has some serious heart eyes going on there.

And if you thought the awkward situations ended… Wrong again; because as they are about to start round two…

Three, two, one, enter Sam.

“Oh, come on, guys! You could at least put the damn ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign on the door!”

You gotta wonder how many times he walked in on his brother and some girl in their motel room. Too many, probably.

Despite his annoyance at the lack of warning, he smiles to himself as he leaves and sends a quick text for Dean to read later.

See? I told you! I’m glad you guys worked it out.

It’s been two months since that afternoon, and Dean is back to having his daily succulent meals. Everything is back to normal, everything is the way it was before their fallout. Well, not everything is the same…

Now Y/N has moved into his bedroom and neither feels miserable anymore.

Being a hunter is no walk in the park, everybody knows that, but having the right person in your life can definitely make things easier and brighter in a world full of darkness.

Tags list (if you wanna be added/removed, check the link after Dean’s gif): 

 @adammcquaidschesthair @aingealcethlenn

@akshi8278 @allinhishands @aprofoundbondwithdean @audaciousdean @awhiskeywithawinchester @bringmesomepie56 @buffyandangelforever @but-deans-back-tho @callmesweetheartifyoumeanit @canadianspnhunter @deandoesthingstome @deansdirtylittlesecretsblog @deansgoddess @deanwinchsterr @dorky-and-i-know-it @ellen-reincarnated1967 @emilywritesaboutdean @eyes-of-a-disney-princess @faith-in-dean @for-the-love-of-dean @hidingfrommychildren @highonpastries @icantfindacoolname @jacklesonmymind @jensennjared @jessica-bones-winchester @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis @katnharper @kayteonline @keepcalmandcarryondean @latinenglishfandomblog @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @littlegreenplasticsoldier @mamapeterson @manawhaat (ARGH, WHY TUMBLR, WHY?!) @maradyeries @milkymilky-cocopuff @misswhizzy @mogaruke @mrsjohnsmith @mrswhozeewhatsis @myfand0msandm0re @nichelle-my-belle @ohfora67impala @oriona75 @rizlow1 @ruprecht0420 @saenalife @saucynewf @sis-tafics @sleep-silent-angel @sleepywinchester @smoothdogsgirl @spn-idjits-guide-to-hunting @spnashley @spnjensenlove02 @squirrelchester @supernatural-jackles @the-mrs-dean-winchester @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @walkingencyclopediaoffandom @whatdoyouthinkmyjobis @whispersandwhiskerburn @winchester-writes @winchesterenthusiast @winchestersandwordprocessors @winchestersinthedrift @winchestersnco @xtina2191 @zanthiasplace

[hekate1308]

I Know Not If There Is A Reason

Continuation of this, but can be read alone. Basically, my destiel version of the Addams family. 

Castiel hates feeding on humans.

His siblings love it, enjoy using their powers to snare humans, laugh at their helplessly infatuated faces as they drink from their emotions for all they’re worth.

So what? They’ll say when Castiel tries to explain, the humans aren’t harmed by what we do, and we won’t starve.

But still, Castiel is left with a feeling of emptiness every time he snares a human into his trap because he has to. He’s all too aware that he can only inspire fake emotions. Not even his family likes him all that much, so why should someone else?

He knows he’s a weird siren. He shouldn’t even care about the humans he feeds on, or the feelings he inspires in them just to eat. But he can’t help it.

His reluctance to indulge in his family’s favourite pastime means that he’s a bit on the thin side, and probably always will be. They tease him about it. He can’t bring himself to be annoyed by it, not annoyed enough to enjoy himself when another man’s eyes light up with a love he’ll never truly inspire, anyway.

That all changes when he meets Dean Winchester.      

Castiel learned how to control his powers as a child, like every siren has to. No matter how hungry one happens to be, it’s not practical to attract anyone one comes in contact with.

Of course there are the times when his powers simply activate themselves. Castiel hates it when that happens, especially because it usually means that someone he’s attracted to gets ensnared by his eyes and doesn’t really return his interest.

As just happened with the very handsome mechanic who uttered a marriage proposal not five seconds ago.

Castiel clamps down on his powers, already fearing the awkward talk that’s sure to follow.

The man blinks. “Woah. You’re a siren, right? Sorry, man. Didn’t mean to propose.”

“It’s quite alright” Castiel says, painfully aware that this beautiful man would never even look at him twice if it weren’t for his powers.

He smiles at him. “So, what’s wrong with your car?”

Normally people aren’t that nice after he’s used his powers on them, and it makes everything worse. Castiel shuffles his feet.

“I have no idea. It just... the motor won’t start again. I’m sorry, I know nothing about cars.”

“Good it’s my job to fix them, then” the mechanic – the tag on his jumpsuit reads Winchester – says simply.

Castiel nods, unsure what he’s supposed to say.

“I’m Dean, by the way” he says, holding out his hand, and Castiel reminds himself that he has to shake it.

“Castiel.”

“An angel name for a siren?”

“You know it?” he asks, surprised.

Dean shrugs. “My brother was into all that mythology stuff before he left home”. He sounds bitter, and Castiel decides he’s not made for that, he should be laughing, smiling, happy all the time, so that his eyes light up –

Dean leans forward and Castiel realizes his mistake, stepping back.

“I’m so – I didn’t mean for it to happen again, I can’t apologize enough – “

“Please, you can’t help it. I’ve read a bit about sirens in my time, when I was...” he trails off.

Castiel wonders if it’s about the brother who likes mythology. He knows all about complicated feelings toward family members.

“Still, I’m sorry. My powers tend to run wild when I find someone attr-“ He stops talking abruptly, mortified that he admitted it.

But Dean’s smile simply turns into a grin. “So I’m not the only one around here who thinks he’s lucky to be with a real hottie right now, huh.”

Cas swallows. He thinks this counts as flirtation, but isn’t sure; he so rarely indulges in behaviour of this kind, since he can never tell if someone genuinely likes him or has just been ensnared by him.

“No?”

Dean chuckles. “Say, what if I explain to you what’s going on with your car over dinner?”

Castiel knows he shouldn’t. There’s every reason to think his powers will run rampant if he spends too much time with Dean, making him believe that he likes Castiel when he really doesn’t.

But it’s been so long since someone who wasn’t under his spell showed any interest in him, and he’s weak.

He gives in.

That evening he’s trying to put together an outfit when Gabriel comes to see him. “Cassie! What, or should I say who, are you dressing up for?”

“Someone asked me out” he replies simply, hoping it will be enough. Of course it isn’t.

“Another siren?”

“No, a human.”

“Oh my, do you finally want to have a real dinner again?”

“No, Gabriel, he wasn’t ensnared. He just... wants to spend time with me.”

Gabriel stares at him. “Then what’s the point? He can’t have any feelings for you yet – “

“Exactly.”

His brother shakes his head. “You’re crazy, bro. Do you really think a human would be genuinely interested in a monster? And even if he seems into you, how will you make sure it’s not just your powers?”

Cas doesn’t answer because he doesn’t know either.

But that evening, laughing with Dean over a few excellent burgers, he can’t help but relax and “enjoy the ride” as Gabriel would put it.

Maybe a bit too much, he realizes belatedly when Dean stares at him in awe after he makes a joke and he suddenly feels fuller than he has in months.

He stands up hastily, reigning in his powers. “Dean, I can’t begin to tell you – “

“Hey” he says, taking his hand and pulling him back down on his seat, “I already said you don’t have to apologize. Yeah, you just almost whammied me into proposing to you again, but we can work around that, don’t we? Because I actually like you a lot, and I’d like to see where this is going.”

He hasn’t let go of Castiel’s hand.

Castiel can only nod.

Slowly, through trial and error, they figure things out. They learn that Castiel, who soon becomes Cas to Dean, can actually exercise a lot of control over his siren magic if he pays attention to it. They learn that he tends to forget about it in the early morning though, which is why he often wakes up with Dean cuddling him and refusing to let go. They learn that the better they get to know one another, the less hold his powers have over his boyfriend.

And Cas? He learns that it’s incredibly easy to fall for Dean Winchester.

At first, the realization scares him. Dean could have anyone, so why should he put up with someone who doesn’t even need solid food to survive?

Then comes the day when he realizes he’s not felt hungry for a week. It confuses him terribly, makes him wonder if he’s broken some sort of unwritten law and is going to starve to death for falling in love with a human, until his aunt Naomi points out his looks during family “dinner” (they call it that because they’re eating human food, but it’s just an excuse to get together on a regular basis).

“You look well, Castiel. You’ve finally put some meat on those bones.”

And he realizes that his belt is indeed painfully digging into his stomach.

“That’s his boyfriend’s doing” Gabriel says casually, “Guess he keeps him dosed up after all.”

“I don’t use my powers on Dean.” Come to think of it, even when he’s slipped Dean has barely responded in the last few weeks.

“Boyfriend?” Michael asks. “You’re dating a human?”

“Yes.”

“Castiel, what are you thinking? Our family reputation – “

Maybe if he hadn’t spent the last few months with someone who actually treats him well he would listen, but now he doesn’t care what Michael thinks.

He leaves and goes to see Dean.

“Hey Cas, didn’t expect you tonight” he says, kissing him. “Thought you had that family thing...”

“I did, but then my brother decided to be upset because I am dating a human.”

“What a... species-ist. Is there even a word for that?”

As always, Dean makes him feel better.

But still – why can’t his family be happy that he’s found love?

His boyfriend draws him into his arms when he realizes he’s still upset. “Hey” he says gently, “Remember Sam, my brother? He went away to college. We had a fight and haven’t spoken since. I get it, believe me.”

And as he rubs Cas’ back, the siren realizes why he’s not feeling hunger anymore. He’s being fed, but not by the false feelings his kind usually inspires in men.

Dean loves him.

He quickly moves to assure him the feeling’s mutual, much to Dean’s surprise.

Things progress rather quickly after that night. It’s easy to cut ties with the parts of the family who think he’s disgracing them, now that he has Dean to come home to every night.

Although Dean’s human neighbours seem to disagree. After he’s been spat on by the unpleasant old man from next door, his boyfriend has had enough.

“Hey, Cas” he asks casually the next morning at breakfast, “How about we get a house at the edge of town?”

“You’d live among monsters for me?”

Dean shrugs. “Most people aren’t nearly as pleasant as you happen to be. So, what do you say?”

Even after they move into the little house they fell in love with at first sight however, Cas can’t help but feel that it was unfair to force Dean out of his apartment.

Until they encounter Charlie and Gilda, a human and her fairy girlfriend, who live just down the street and come to welcome them to the neighbourhood.

“Hi, I’m – good God, can you turn it down? I thought I was turning straight for a second!”

Right. These days, he doesn’t think much about his powers, since Dean seems to have grown utterly immune to them. “My apologies.”

She grins. “It’s no problem. I’m Charlie, this is Gilda. Where’s your better half?”

“In here” Dean calls out from the kitchen, “Step in, we’re having burgers.”

And his boyfriend doesn’t even bat an eye when Gilda makes the basil on their window sill grow three inches after she tastes the burger.

Their introduction to Crowley is somewhat more adventurous.

There are frogs raining down on both theirs and their next-door-neighbours house, and Dean is in the process of shrugging and saying “We’ll have to wait it out, I guess” when someone falls off their own roof with a loud thump.

As they run out, a demon with red eyes gets up from the ground. “Sorry about that, boys. Your house was a bit closer to the heart of the spell; even my mother’s aim is off sometimes.”

And indeed the frogs stop coming down.

He holds out his hand. “Name’s Crowley.”

He soon becomes one of their closest friends, even if his mother’s a witch. True, he’s a bit full of himself and sometimes they hear goat screams coming from his house when he’s completing a ritual, but all in all, he’s a good neighbour.

Benny and Andrea move into the neighbourhood two years after Dean and Cas. It’s part of getting Andrea used to the supernatural before her husband changes her.

It makes Cas think of rings and forever, but before he can decide how to approach the subject, Dean takes him out for date night.

He brings him to a little clearing in the woods. Despite it being November, it’s pleasantly warm and there are flowers blooming. Gilda’s work, no doubt.

There’s a picnic basket there too, crammed with Cas’ favourite foods – he can still taste it, he just doesn’t need it, not with Dean’s love being so filling.

“Benny’s gumbo?” he asks when he recognizes the dish. Dean nods.

“They kinda... all helped.”

Cas kisses him. They are on their best way to forget all about dinner when Dean draws back, laughing.

“Wait a second, there’s something I have to ask you...”

He kneels down in front of him. “Cas, will you marry me?”

The ring is made out of silver and shimmers in the evening light. Cas can’t speak. He nods.

As soon as Dean puts the ring on his finger, a scroll appears next to them.

“Congrats Squirrel and Feathers. Next time the drinks are on me. XX Crowley”

Written in blood, of course.

“He helped me melt the angel blade down” Dean explains. “Only the best for my sunshine.”

Cas laughs and kisses his fiancé, his eyes no doubt shining with the snare power he’ll never need again for as long as they live.

[themadamelibrarian]

Backseat?

Written By: @themadamelibrarian & @helvonasche Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Donna Hanscum/Dean Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Donna Hanscum, Sam Winchester Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Hair-pulling, Penis In Vagina Sex, Impala Sex, unprotected sex, light biting Summary: Donna has been promoted, lost some weight, is feeling pretty good about herself. There are some weird deaths and she knows what she has to do, but struggles. She finally calls Sam and tells him what’s going on, the boys decide to look into it. Donna has developed feelings for Dean, but doesn’t think he’d ever be interested. Dean picks up on this and after the hunt decides to show her a good time.

Share this story and show support for the creator!

Tagging: @copperseraphim; @thenanahunter; @lucibae-is-dancing-in-hell; @idabbleincrazy; @truxblooded;

LINK TO AO3

Donna waited impatiently by her office phone, tapping her nails by the receiver as she waited for the Winchesters to call. Waiting for the news that everything was taken care of with whatever had been killing campers in the woods up north. Looking up at the clock, she saw that it was nearly time for her to head out for the night. Sighing she turned off her computer and set her phone to re-route to Dispatch in case of emergencies. She had already changed out of her uniform into her new jeans and a blue button-up, leaving her hair in a ponytail.

As she closed her briefcase and slung it over her shoulder, her cell phone rang. Dropping her bag and fishing her phone out of her pocket, Donna put it to her ear and hoped that her voice sounded normal, “Sheriff Hanscum.”

“Hey, it’s Dean.”

“Oh! How’s it goin’ Dean? Were you able to take care of that thingie?”

“Yeah, wendigo, it wasn’t easy but Sammy and I took care of it.”

“That’s great! Well-”

“Wanna grab some food?”

“Oh no, that’s okay. I don’t want to intrude.  After hunting a wen-dee-go, you guys must be tuckered out.”

“You wouldn’t be intruding, Sammy says he’s beat and it’s my turn to pick up some grub, do you want to go with just me? We’ll get something to-go.”

“Um... I suppose, but I’ll pay.”

“Alright, I’ll be there in ten.”

“You don’t have-” Donna hadn’t been able to refuse his offer to pick her up because Dean had hung up.

She had spent the last few years getting nervous and flustered the few times that Dean and Sam had come into her neck of the woods. Sam was tall, smart, and handsome, but he wasn’t anything like his brother. Dean was like a man out of an old movie, like James Dean in Rebel Without a Cause. But Donna was no Natalie Wood. Even with her recent weight-loss and promotion, Donna still felt like the cheery weirdo that would never end up with anyone, again.

Sighing deeply and grabbing her briefcase again, Donna walked to the entrance and pushed the door open, locking the station behind her. Leaning against the doors, Donna waited for Dean and what was surely going to be an uncomfortable meal.

The roar of a ‘Big Block’ engine echoed down the street as the headlights came into view. With a sigh, Donna pushed herself away from the doors and made her way down the steps to the curb just as the Impala pulled up. Dean threw his black beauty into park and leaned across the bench seat to open the passenger door. Smile gleaming, Dean let out a soft whistle. “Heya Sheriff, lookin’ good.”

Donna blushed faintly and shyly looked down at herself before sliding into the seat next to him, “Thank you. It took a lot of Cross-fit and avoiding the donut box.”

“It shows,” Dean said with a smile as he put the car into gear and they set off.

.oOo.

Pulling into the motel parking lot that Dean and Sam were staying, he turned to Donna while grabbing one bag of food, “Wait here, I’ll run this in and we can find somewhere quiet to eat.”

Feeling the blush returning to her cheeks, Donna nodded as she watched Dean jog to the door and hand off the food to his brother. Not knowing why she had the urge but running with it, Donna unbuttoned a few buttons of her shirt. Donna didn’t think she had a chance, but couldn’t help herself. She watched them exchange words before Dean waved Sam off and made his way back to the Impala.

Twenty minutes later and they were parked at the edge of Carey Lake, the water reflecting the crescent moon and stars in the gentle ripples that broke across the surface. Switching off the engine, he leaves the battery running and turns the radio down low.

Turning to face Donna and grabbing the box of tapes, riffling through them until he found the tape he was looking for and putting it in the cassette player. The gentle strains of Foreigner’s ‘Waiting for a Girl Like You’ drifted from the speakers.

Digging through the bags, Dean handed Donna her salad and water and then he pulled out his burger. Donna picked at her salad, she had eaten earlier and didn’t want to ruin all her hard work by overeating, but she didn’t want to be rude and refuse him. Even though she would deny it if anyone ever asked, she wanted to spend time with him in any capacity.

The situation she currently found herself in was less friendly and more romantic than she had initially thought, but she wasn’t complaining. Donna knew better than to delude herself into thinking that Dean Winchester thought of her in that way.

Dean worked his way through his burger while watching Donna pick at her salad out of the corner of his eye. He didn’t understand why she wasn’t eating but continued covertly watching her.

His mind wandered as he ate, thinking about what her skin would feel like, the soft mewls she’d make as he gripped her ponytail and guided her head back to lick and nibble at the tender spots of her elegantly lined throat. Dean thought back to the first time he’d seen her and there was something about the way she had wrapped her lips around that powdered donut that made his dick twitch in anticipation.

Dean always appreciated a woman with an appetite that matched his own. Donna seemed to meet this particular quirk, but at the moment she was still picking at her salad without really eating. Swallowing a mouthful of burger and fries, Dean asked, “Not hungry?”

Chuckling nervously, Donna rambled, “Already ate. Don’t worry about it, I’m in no hurry and I’ll take it home for tomorrow.”

Setting the remains of his meal on the dash, Dean turned in his seat, “How have you been lately?”

“Pretty good, yourself?” Donna said as she mimicked Dean and placed the to-go container on the dash and twisted slightly to face him.

Dean shrugged, “Same monsters, different day. We’re alive and kickin’ so that’s what counts.”

Donna giggled at his glibness, “I suppose if it was my job, hunting monsters wouldn’t be the most exci-”

She was cut off by Dean’s soft lips pressing into hers, his hands finding her waist and neck as he pulled her closer. He had waited too long to kiss her but was shocked when he felt her hands pushing at his chest.

“Wh-wh-what was that?” Donna stammered, thrown by his sudden forwardness.

Dean leans back slightly, still invading her personal space with a hint of an amused smile. “A kiss. I could demonstrate for you again if you like.”

Unsure where to look or what to do with her hands, Donna gulped before nodding slightly. Dean grinned and moved in again, returning his hands to her neck and waist, he gently kissed her and felt her finally return the kiss.

Finding courage she never had around men, let alone someone like Dean, she reached out with trembling fingers. Teasing the hair on the back of his head, which was softer than she had imagined. As her fingers met his skin, Dean moaned into the kiss. Bolstered by his reaction, Donna turned completely and lifted a knee.

Dean, not missing a beat, found his spot between her legs with his hip pushing between her thighs as he lifted her other leg onto his lap. As he moved his hand up her side he felt her breathing shallowly and felt her grind into him as his hand palmed her breast through the shirt.

Donna mewled at his pawing, she was beside herself. She was sitting in the Impala, making out with Dean friggin’ Winchester, and his hands were all over her. She felt like a teenager again and also like a wanton hussy, but in the best possible way. Like the first time she had parked with Doug, but this was so much better.

The ache radiating from her long-neglected womanhood was almost painful. She felt it spike as his hand drifted down from her chest to the hem of her shirt, his fingers teasing their way up and under the offending article.

Dean and Donna, acting on the same urge, tried to lift her shirt simultaneously. Donna arching her back and reaching to open her shirt, while Dean pulled her shirt up and ducked, their foreheads smacked together painfully.

Sitting up and rubbing his forehead, Dean grinned, “You okay?”

“Yeah, but that sure does smart,” she said as she squinted through the pain.

Dean came back to himself and suggested, “Backseat?”

“Really?” Donna blurted.

“I’m gonna be in the backseat taking my pants off, you can join me or you can watch,” he replied as he pulled away from her and opened his door.

Watching him open the rear driver’s side door, Donna scrambled for a moment before reminding herself that she wasn’t some teenager, she was a grown woman and grown women didn’t fumble around like this. Straightening her shirt, Donna joined Dean in the backseat.

Dean pulled her to his chest as she closed the door, his hands both at her chest as he began to unbutton her shirt. He leaned in as his fingers worked and began to lick and kiss her neck and jaw. When he got the shirt halfway undone, he grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head revealing the creamy white swell of her breasts.

Pushing him back, Donna grabbed the hem of his t-shirt but before she could get it higher than his rib cage Dean brushed her hands aside and pulled his shirt over his head. Dean sat back and began unzipping his jeans, “You on the pill?”

Donna reached behind her to unclasp her bra as she answered, “No, I have the implant.” She removed her bra and pointed to a spot on her arm where the skin was slightly raised. “You’re clean?”

“As a whistle,” Dean said with a cocky grin as he sat facing the front seat and pulled off his boots, then pushed his jeans and boxers down around his ankles.

“Me too.” Shimmying out of her pants, Donna sat up and pushed Dean back into his seat when he moved to come back to her. Biting her bottom lip nervously, she straddled his lap and smoothed her hands down his chest. “Oh jeez, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“I can’t believe we took this long,” Dean said as he ran his hands along her sides.

Donna was taken aback by his words, “What?”

Dean smiled at her bewilderment, “You never seemed interested,” he said biting his lip.

“Oh, I’m interested,” Donna said with a coy smile as she leaned in to kiss him.

The new angle had his length pressed tightly against her mound. Dean groaned at the contact, which provoked Donna to cant her hips slightly. His hands dropped to her hips as he bucked in response. He could feel her wetness trickling along his shaft and he needed to be inside her.

Lifting her to line himself up, Donna reached between them and took hold of his cock as she sank down onto him. Feeling the stretch of Dean’s thick cock, Donna gripped his shoulder as she pushed herself further until she was fully seated.

Dean always enjoyed a woman in control, but he needed more tonight. The hunt had taken a lot out of him and he wanted to feel like he used to; young, strong, and like he was the best lay in the fucking world. Focusing on what he was doing, Dean squeezed her hips, “You ready, Sheriff?”

“Are you?” Donna asked, raising an eyebrow.

Grinning widely Dean began to fuck up into her, slow powerful thrusts that had her begging for more. Encouraged by her cries, Dean picked up the pace, pounding into her. Soon the only sound that she could make were breathy grunts and pants that matched his own.

Her fingernails were raking down his chest leaving bright red scratches, as she felt her inner walls tighten with each of his thrusts. Donna knew what was coming and wasn’t sure if she should warn him, but found she wasn’t able to form the words; she was too far gone.

Dean was fixated on making her cum, he needed to feel it and he wouldn’t stop pumping his cock into her until she did. Without warning, he could feel her cunt clamp down onto his length, while Donna began to keen as she redoubled her hold on his shoulders. As her pussy gripped him tight, Dean was shocked to feel liquid gushing over his length and around his hips.

He saw fear flicker across her face and knew that if he stopped she would pull away. Dean needed to feel her do that as many times as possible, and before she could protest or apologize he continued working his cock into her. The wet sounds of their bodies meeting filled the Impala as Donna silently gaped at Dean as he pushed her further than Doug had ever dared.

“You gonna do that again?” Dean asked between pants. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he wasn’t going to stop to ask her.

Unable to form words, Donna nodded. Dean slowed his thrusts and began to push her hips back and forth. She began to swivel her hips in small circles, and she felt his cock nudge at that spot inside her. Donna had only found this particular spot a few times on her own, Doug never understood how any of her lady parts worked. But Dean was able to find it and was now letting her take what she needed.

The squelching sounds of their coupling became louder and Donna found her voice as she met Dean’s brilliant green eyes, “Race ya,” she said cockily with a wink.

Setting his jaw, Dean reached between them and began to rub her clit back and forth. With his other hand, Dean grabbed her ponytail, wrapping it around his fist tightly as he pulled her close to kiss her again. He felt her walls contract around him, causing his balls to draw up close and tight against him. He just needed to feel her cum dripping down his thighs to set off his orgasm.

Donna knew that she was close but his thumb on her clit sent her over the edge. The second orgasm, something Doug had never experienced, was always stronger than the first.

The intensity of her orgasm overpowered her as she curled in on herself toward Dean. Gasping as her cunt milked his cock, another flood of slick gushing once more over his hips and her inner thighs, thoroughly wetting them both.

Dean growled as he throbbed inside her. The way her body rhythmically clutched his manhood and the surge of fluid, he let go. He came hard, releasing his seed deep inside of her spasming cunt.

Breathing heavily, Dean and Donna smiled at each other before collapsing into a sweaty embrace.

“Damn, Kitten. Didn’t know you had claws,” Dean chuckled as he nuzzled into her neck.

Reaching up, Donna grabbed the hair on top of Dean’s head and pulled his head back and grinned, “I’m not a kitten, Winchester.”

[punk-is-notdead]

Fic title: Hot For Teacher, by RidinCastielInTheImpala (sayitinenochian.tumblr) and tfw_cas

@sayitinenochian

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Castiel (Supernatural) Dean Winchester Ben Braeden Krissy Chambers Benny Lafitte Child Bobby Singer Child Jody Mills Kitty Meg Destiel - Freeform Teacher Castiel Parent Dean Winchester

Summary: After an anonymous writing assignment Castiel finds out that a father of one of his students has a crush on him. He really wants to know who that father is.

AO3

“Okay, children.” Castiel Novak, the 3rd grade teacher for Lawrence Elementary stood and waited for his students to give him their attention. “Class is nearly finished, but before you go I want you all to write a few words for me on a note card. The title should be ‘I wish my teacher knew’, and you can write anything you wish. You have about ten minutes to complete the assignment. Also, there is no need to put your name on it.”

Mr. Novak had heard about how cathartic and fun this kind of exercise could be from teaching experts and he was looking forward to reading their thoughts. The anonymity meant that the children were much more likely to be honest. This writing assignment would be way more interesting than what he was usually given to read. Of course, he knew that some answers might be a little sad or worrying but he would deal with that if and when it arose. As Castiel handed out the note cards and watched his students begin to write, he could not help but smile. Some seemed to be pouring their hearts out, while others sat and thought a little at first. Within the allotted ten minutes, all of his pupils had finished. Castiel stood by the door and took the small papers from the kids as they filed out of the room and onto the playground where they would meet up with their parents, older siblings etc.

After tidying the classroom, Castiel collected his own things and went home, looking forward to a quiet evening with his cat, Meg, full of reading his students’ work. Meg greeted him at the door and he petted her for a while before feeding her and fixing some dinner for himself. He was finally ready to read the notes by 7.30 .Collecting his shoulder bag from where it resided on the kitchen table, Castiel went to sit down on his couch, a beer in his free hand. He slipped the bundle of notecards out of the front pocket of his bag and looked at the first one, taking the first sip of his drink.

Castiel smiled at the sweet sentiment. He was unsure of who it could be but it seemed like something little miss Jody would say. He set the card aside and moved on to the next one.

Oh. He needed to identify this boy and work out what could be done. Castiel would not tolerate bullying in his classroom or anywhere else for that matter. It would come to a halt as soon as he found out who wrote the card. He slid the card from his paperclip to reveal the next one in the stack.

Well that's just adorable. He made a quick note in his teacher log about organizing a ‘show and tell’ time for one day during the week. The children would appreciate that.

Mr. Novak recognised this handwriting instantly. It was neat and strong, just like the boy it belonged to. Oh, poor little Bobby. Time to let him move, I think. He took another swallow of his beer before setting it on the coffee table and reading the next card.

It was not just the red ink that had honed his attention to this one so strongly. Castiel blinked in disbelief at the card in his hand. What…? I don't know how to- This was so entirely unexpected, but he really wanted to know who this child’s dad was. He read through the rest of the notes but none of it sunk in. He felt bad about that, but - the dad of one of my students has a crush on me. He set the stack aside and decided he would read through them properly when his brain started working again.

Maybe Castiel could figure out who the mystery dad was. There were a few fathers that regularly collected their children - some every day - and he had met a lot more at parent teacher conferences. He figured that the child must be one of those whose parents were not together; after all it was highly unlikely that a father would tell his son or daughter that he had a crush on their teacher if he was in a relationship. He started mentally going through what he knew about his students and their home lives, and he calculated that there were nine possible candidates. Tomorrow he would try to find out the identity of his admirer.

                                            ++++++++++++++

The next day was like every other day at the school, apart from the fact that Castiel was having a lot of difficulty focusing. It had been quite a restless night, spent wondering… wondering. By the time it came for his students to leave, he was on pins and it was all he could do to not push past them into the playground. He stood at the doorway and watched the reunions taking place, hoping to notice anything out of the ordinary. There were a couple of possibilities; one who was especially handsome, but it was probably too much to hope that it might be him… Unfortunately, before everyone had left, Mr. Novak was called back into the building by the principal. By the time he returned to the playground, everyone had left. Oh well, there's always tomorrow…

                                           +++++++++++++++

Castiel realised the next day that watching his pupils and trying to work out which one of them had a dad that liked him was a little bit weird. This was not a normal way to find a partner, and yet…He made his rounds of the classroom, peeking over shoulders to make sure no one was goofing off when they were supposed to be studying the areas they failed in testing. He came to a stop behind one of his more ...combative… students. Krissy looked up at him and grinned and as she did, he noticed that she had a red pen. Castiel had met her father Benny; nice guy, with an unusual - rather attractive - Southern accent. “Sir, I don’t think you gave me the correct mark for my writing. I should have got an A.”

“Excuse me?” The girl had potential, but she could be overly assertive sometimes. Maybe Castiel needed to have a talk with her father about her attitude. Of course, speaking to the man could allow him to tell whether or not he was the dad in question. “I marked your work fairly,  Krissy.”   

With that he moved away from her, a glare burning into the back of his head, and took his place at the front of his room. He leaned back in his swivel chair and took in the sight of the children learning. Castiel loved being a teacher with his entire being. He knew it was his calling. Being involved in the kids’ lives and teaching them so they can be prepared for the world around them filled him with pride. Smiling like an idiot, he let his thoughts drift to a specific sexy parent he wished wholeheartedly to be his secret admirer.

By the end of the school day, Castiel was feeling a little less positive about discovering who that admirer was. None of the children had given anything away, and there was a part of him that was beginning to think maybe it would be best not to know. He had never had much luck with relationships. He walked with his students to the door and distractedly said goodbye to them, unaware that one of the parents was waiting to speak with him.

“Mr Novak... sir. My dad wants to talk to you.” Castiel looked down to see Ben Winchester, pulling his sleeve and looking at him expectantly.

“Oh, okay Ben.” He smiled at the dark haired little boy. “Come inside, please.” As Castiel spoke, he appraised the man in question - the man he had considered yesterday from afar. Good gracious, he was even more impressive up close. He was tall, had dirty blonde hair, the greenest eyes in existence, and that smile he was directing at the teacher… well.

“Dad, can I play outside until you’ve finished?” Ben looked at his father hopefully.

“Sure, but don't leave the playground.” Mr. Winchester smiled at his son as the boy ran off excitedly, then turned to the teacher and extended his hand. “Hey Mr. Novak, thanks. I hope this is okay.” Goodness, that voice. So deep. As their hands touched, Castiel felt a spark of electricity pass between them and it took all of his control to remain calm. Is… is this him?

“It's fine, Mr. Winchester. How can I help you?” He flashed his most sincere smile at the man and tried not to look too flustered. It was difficult though, when the man was staring at him intensely and invading his personal space like that. A rather intense shiver ran down the teachers spine when Ben’s dad looked down at his lip, which he was nervously chewing on it seemed, and then licked his own. Their eyes were locked and it felt all too intimate. Castiel had to look away before he did something inappropriate, like grab him and kiss him.

Mr. Winchester cleared his throat and began to speak. “Er… I don't know if you're aware, but Ben’s mom died when he was small, and it's just the two of us.” Unable to speak after the epic eye-sex, Castiel nodded for him to carry on. “Well, so… I worry that I can't help Ben too much with his homework. I'm just a car mechanic.”

“Mr. Winchester, I-”

“Dean. Call me Dean, please.”

“Oh, um… okay, Dean.” It felt a little strange using his first name, but he wanted to make the man feel comfortable so he allowed it. “Ben is doing really well, but if you have any worries… at all, you can always speak to me again. I would be happy to help. Any time.” Castiel smiled in what he hoped was a charming way, and waited for a response.

“Thanks Mr Novak, I appreciate it.” There was silence for a few moments as the two men seemed to be checking each other out - or was it just more staring? - then the teacher spoke again.

“Please call me Castiel. And for the record you should not describe yourself as just a car mechanic. You can fix things with your hands” - those hands - “I cannot do that.”

“Castiel. Such an unusual name. I don't suppose you’d like to tell me about it over dinner.”

Well, that was an offer he couldn't refuse, and maybe - just maybe - his evenings were about to become a little more interesting than marking homework with his cat. Meg would be disappointed but Castiel hoped he would be very satisfied. Oh, how naughty. It was hard to keep his thoughts clean around such an adonis. He could feel the blush heat his cheeks when he realized Dean was still waiting for an answer. He fumbled with his mouth trying to make it form words. Castiel stopped and tried again, this time successful. “Yes, I think I would like that very much.”

“So… it’s a date?” Dean asked in a half question half statement.

Castiel could not help the huge gummy smile that lit up his face. Dean was so cute, all uncertain, rubbing the back of his neck like a nervous teenager. Without a doubt, Castiel knew this was the beginning of something amazing. “Yes, it is a date.”

[cajunquandary]

A Jukebox and a Lose-chester

The Cannon Ball Series

Series Warnings: Alcohol use, implied smut, mentions of abuse, PTSD, scars, canon level violence, some torture, probably equal parts angst, fluffiness, and plot.

Series Pairing/Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam, Castiel, Crowley, Rowena, various characters

A/N: This series is the brainchild of my love for Rob Benedict’s version of Dink’s Song and began as my second ever attempt at writing fanfiction. After realizing that I should probably edit it (due to the excruciatingly painful amount of errors I found), this is the third-time re-write of the story. Questions, comments, and suggestions are always welcome! Enjoy :)

Part One: A Jukebox and a Lose-chester

Summary: Sam and Dean are hunting a vampire when they encounter another hunter, who was already working the case. She doesn’t give them a very warm welcome, but they stick around anyway.

Word count: 5800

You flagged the bartender for another round of shots. Delivering them, he nodded in your direction, his thick moustache pinching slightly, hiding a sympathetic smile. You were grateful that he seemed to understand your need to space out. You were about halfway through your bad-night-usual at five shots of whiskey, preparing to down the sixth, staring out the door and across the street to your temporary home—a by-the-hour no-tell motel—that you would be stumbling towards in about half an hour.

It wasn’t always this way.

The jukebox switched to Dream On by Aerosmith and a couple men at the bar tried to karaoke along, earning jeers and insults from the scattered tables. Your lip curled on one side, a half smirk at the situation. Sometimes you too felt the need to sing horribly along with a good song, but mostly you remained the mystery hidden in the shadow of the far end of the bar. You never did have much patience for people.

The sixth shot burned on its way down, leaving you slightly wincing at the familiar pain. It had become a comfort, really. Not necessarily for the inebriation, but the pain. In another life, the pain was different, by the blade in your hand. Now, there were monsters to do that for you. You hunted cases up to four hundred miles out from this ho-dunk town, but never much further. You liked it here—everyone were mostly passersby, no names, and too many faces that blurred after a while. It was easy to get lost within the tides of them.

Woah, but those faces stand out. A couple of tall, worn-out male-modeling sons of bitches sat next to you, the bartender looking between the three of you, as you were being squished between the shorter one and the wall. No one ever sat so close to you—his eyebrows and moustache raised in question of what you’d do next. The last guy that tried to hit on you found himself hogtied and tossed in the alley with a black eye. You’d hoped he learned not grab a woman’s rear when she expressed her disinterest in his advances.

But, you were already feeling the effects of the first six when you slid the seventh closer, vision blurring around the edges. You couldn’t really feel the man next to you, and besides, they seemed a little more interested in one another and the angelically handsome bartender than you. You downed the seventh and the room started to spin, causing you to slam the empty glass down a little harder than you meant to as you attempted to regain composure.

“That’ll do tonight, Rich, thank you,” You slurred as the bartender slid the eighth and final over, along with a glass of water.

“Yes ma’am.” Rich wiped his hands on a bar towel and turned back to the men next to you.

He filled their drink orders, answered a few questions about the three dead hookers, two more missing, and a missing trucker. You thought they might be a couple of state cops rolling through, just trying to see if they could solve the mystery themselves. A few had already tried. You knew they wouldn’t figure it out as the culprit was a vampire trying to make himself a nest. You’d already tracked them down, killing the two missing girls-turned-vamp, leaving the trucker in the wind. He would show himself soon, and you’d be ready. The bartender departed and the two turned to each other and spoke in hushed voices.

“Dean, we’re not getting anywhere here. No one’s seen anything.”

“Well maybe we’re not asking the right questions, Sam.”

“Or maybe we aren’t asking the right people.”

“Well these people are tough, everyone in this damn town is just passing through. It’s always the same story. No one’s seen anything.” Dean rolled his eyes and huffed, tapping his thumbs together over the counter. Turning to you and speaking at a normal volume, he asked “What about you, sweetheart. You hear or see anything weird lately? Do you know about those missing people?”

You knew a hunter when you saw one. Even through blurred vision you saw the glint of silver and pearl of a handgun that was definitely not state-issue stuffed in his jeans, the hilt of a large knife on the inside pocket of his overcoat, and the staple old ratty flannel most hunters wore.

“Yeah… I‘ve heard enough, sweetheart,” You teased. “And I’ve got it handled. You’re hunters. This is my town. You can just continue on through like everyone else. I’ve already taken care of it.” You hoped they understood you through the slurs.

Sam looked stunned and unable to find the words, leaning back on the barstool. Dean found them. “Well. Maybe we can work together then. Did you know earlier tonight another lady-of-the-night went missing?”

Shit. You didn’t expect the vamp to be starting again so soon. You downed the last shot. This was on you. Best thing to do now was sleep it off and start again in the morning, knowing the damage was already done. “Yep,” You lied. “He got away once, but he won’t again. Enjoy the drinks gentlemen, but you’re not needed here.” You tossed the tab cover on the counter. “Thanks, Rich,” You called after the bartender, and he waved in turn. You tried to slip back off of the tall chair but stumbled more than you anticipated. A strong hand caught your arm and kept you from falling to the floor.

“Why don’t I take you home? You shouldn’t be driving.” You shoved Dean’s hand off your arm forcefully.

“I’m good. And I’m walking.” You straightened your shirt and slowly made your way to the cheap, dirty room across the street.

Morning came with a hangover and regrets. Pushing them aside, you poured yourself a cup of coffee. The shower helped a lot, and the coffee would help more, but a big breakfast from the local diner would pretty much fix it. You took the coffee and stood just outside the open door to your room, watching the sunrise and inhaling the crisp morning air. You breathed in and out slowly, mentally going through your checklists and the case. The room next to yours opened, and out sauntered two tall men in suits. Your eyes savored the visions, from their nicely polished shoes slowly upward. What were a couple of fine men dressed like that doing in a place like this? When your gaze reached their faces, that question was answered. Oh.

“Like the view?” Dean asked, sporting a smirk.

“Ugh! I thought I told you two to buggar off!” You twirled away, coffee sloshing everywhere, so he couldn’t see your flushing face. You finished the remainder of the drink, threw the empty cup inside, grabbed your keys, and slammed the door for good measure. The boys were climbing into a beautiful black Impala dwarfed in comparison next to your truck.

“I don’t think she plays very well with others, Sammy,” Dean called over the roof of the car, making sure you could hear it.

You jumped into your oversized 2500 and rolled the windows down. Man, these guys were on your nerves. The engine roared to life, and you found comfort in the familiar sounds of the old diesel engine. As you adjusted the radio, the Impala growled to life as well, purred for a moment, and then revved higher and louder, repetitively. You rolled your eyes and refused to give Dean the attention he wanted, instead putting the truck into reverse and heading toward the diner. It wasn’t far, and you let your mind idle. It was too early for this crap and your head was pounding.

Just as you were relaxing again, that same Impala sped past and cut you off. “Are you freakin kidding me?” You yelled. “Whatever. Let’s just get some breakfast,” You spoke into the empty cab.

You pulled in, right behind the Impala. Dean took your usual spot, which made you even madder. Now, you had to go park around back since the truck didn’t fit anywhere else in the small parking lot.

Once inside, you walked towards your usual seat—the booth in the corner. “Get out.” Sam and Dean were in your booth. Of the entire empty diner, they had to take yours. “You practically sat on me at the bar, you picked the room right next to mine, cut me off, took my parking spot, and now my booth. I’m done. Get the hell out of my town. I said, I don’t need your help.” If looks could kill, those boys would be pillars of salt.

“Nah, I think I like it right here, sweetheart.” Dean shot a wink at you.

That’s all it took to finally set you over the edge. You’d been itching for a decent fight lately. You reared back to give him a good sock to the nose, but a hand on your elbow stopped you. “Why don’t you sit with us?” Sam pulled you into the booth next to him. “Okay, you don’t need our help, but we need yours. Let’s work together on this…” He eyed Dean pointedly. “Or at the least, try. We never got properly introduced. I’m Sam Winchester and this is Dean.”

You crossed your arms and shifted your focus to Sam. “Y/N Y/L/N. So how long have you two been together? I haven’t known a couple hunters that ever settled down yet.”

Dean’s face morphed into one you couldn’t read, then laughed.

Sam was laughing too, “We’re brothers.”

You were unfazed. “Well, could’ve fooled me.” Dean looked offended.

The waitress came over, and breakfast remained rather uneventful, with only Sam attempting to initiate conversation. There were a few kicks to the shins between you and Dean that went largely unnoticed, until Sam was on the receiving end. “OKAY. That’s enough children. Dean, behave yourself. Y/N’s right, this was her case first and we haven’t exactly kept a respectful distance.” Sam apologized.

“No, I’m sorry. Dean’s right, I don’t play well with others, especially not with other hunters.”

Sam then kicked his brother under the table, giving him the mom look.

Dean uncrossed his arms. “Fine. Sorry for being a dick. Can you fill us in on the case?”

“Sure. Okay, so I tracked the original vamps to this warehouse on the edge of town, a few blocks over. The trucker keeps trying to turn these women, and the girls said that he wanted them to turn all their clients before I relieved them of their heads. He’s trying to build a nest. They will need to feed again soon, assuming he turned that missing girl last night. He seems to be a creature of habit, so I was going back to the warehouse and starting from there.”

“Sounds good.” Sam smiled. “We were going to interview people, but if you’ve already done this much, I guess we don’t need to.”

Dean just nodded along, still mostly lost in his breakfast.

After changing into plain clothes, they followed you to the warehouse. You reached for the machete under the backseat.

“Is that a big enough truck? You look like a little kid next to that thing. How tall are you anyway?” Dean teased.

“It’s the perfect size actually, and I’m 5’ 1’’ thank you very much. I live out of this thing—I’ve even got a blow up mattress that fits in the back.” You pulled the machete out and tested the sharpness the blade against the fine hairs on your arm. Dean’s eyes went wide and nodded, his gaze drifting towards the camper top attached to the bed of the truck. He bit his lip. You quietly closed the truck door and motioned for them to follow you.

Just as you thought, the trucker and latest missing girl were passed out in a corner, a new victim tied up off to the side. The victim stirred and started to shriek through her gag, clear high heel shoes tapping the ground, causing the vampires to wake.

“Shit!” Dean yelled as the trucker charged him.

“Bring it, bitch,” You launched at the newly turned lady-of-the-night.

She was easy to kill, one swing and done. You turned just in time to see Dean finish off the trucker, and Sam fighting two other vamps that had come out of nowhere. These were stronger, older, and you jumped in just before one bit into Sam’s neck. While you distracted it, Sam felled it and its companion with ease.

Before long, the warehouse was silent again, plastered with rank blood. The victim was still whimpering softly, eyes closed. Sam undid her binds, and she ran off faster than you could catch her, screaming again. Oh well. She obviously wasn’t too hurt.

“Thanks for the help, now you can get on your way,” You shook Sam’s hand, and moved to do the same for Dean, but he took a step back.

“Nah, I think we’re gonna hang around a few days, just to make sure.” He smirked and walked away. You sighed and Sam shrugged, following after him. “So what do you call that beast of yours, anyway?”

“Excuse me?”

“That truck. I call the Impala ‘Baby’.” Dean smiled proudly.

“I bet you do, Dean.” This roused a loud chuckle from Sam, who looked away from his brother’s glare. “I call it Tank, for lack of creativity. It’s been more like a mobile home than a car. My ‘baby’ is my 1968 Stingray. Bought one that was trashed when I was a teenager, spent the next few years fixing her up and driving her all over. Her name was ‘Jessie’.” You smiled fondly at the memories.

You tried to ignore Dean’s stare accompanied by the nod of approval you didn’t ask for.

A few moments later, you were all pulled up at the first stop light, side by side. Dean revved the Impala and locked eyes with you, brows dancing in suggestion. Fine, if he wanted a race, you were game. “Alright, first one to the motel wins!” You shouted over the sounds of engine. You turned up the music—Rock of Ages just came on the radio.

“Alriiiiight!” You heard Dean yell next to you, as Sam grabbed the side of the car and closed his eyes tightly, dimples evident as he swallowed hard.

You looked up just in time to see the light turn green. The Impala left a cloud of smoke in a scream, the truck shortly following suit, almost losing traction in the sudden surge of torque.

You laughed wildly, having not let yourself go like this in ages. Dean had underestimated your ability, and you were about to prove him wrong. You were right on his tail, slowing on the curves, but nearly passing him on the straights. It’s a good thing this town was dead in the mornings. Well, except for the cop who you knew would be just around the corner. Taking your last opportunity, you flew past the Impala, gaining the entire view of the car in your review. You pulled right and slammed the brakes, right before coming stop sign. Before Dean realized what was going on, the cop pulled out from the alley, flashing lights and all. You only laughed harder, knowing that their fake badges would likely get them out of any trouble, but the delay was all you needed. As you passed them doing the speed limit, you looked in the side view mirror, catching Dean shooting you the bird.

A few minutes later, you flopped down onto your tailgate and watched the Impala roll slowly in. Sam was laughing now. The giant puppy of a man jumped out before the car even came to a complete stop next to you, giving you a high-five.

“Dean, one of us needs to marry this woman!”

You stood your ground, arms crossed, wearing a shit eating grin. Dean climbed out of Baby, his mouth set in a hard line, jaw twitching. He shoved clenched fists in his pockets. “That wasn’t fair—I want a rematch. This didn’t count. You cheated.” He lifted one fist and pointed at you and the truck angrily.

You walked right up to him, your chests nearly touching, faces closer than they had ever been. “There was only one rule, Winchester,” your voice low and husky. “The first one to the motel… wins,” You let your tongue hold onto the last word.

Dean’s green eyes softened ever so slightly at the corners, and his pupils grew wider. If you weren’t close enough to see the little gold flecks in them, you probably wouldn’t have noticed. He rolled his eyes and went back into his room, slamming the door. There sure was a lot of that today. You couldn’t move though, still caught up in the heat from being so close to the man.

Sam cleared his throat, “Well, we’re probably going to do some research and nap. What do you say we meet for burgers at the bar later?”

“Yeah, sure.” The spell was broken, and you smiled at him and retired to your own room, now all too aware of the green-eyed man next door and the warmth that radiated from him.

After a nap and deep, long shower, evening fell and you walked back over to the bar, looking forward to a beer and a burger. You waved to Clarisse, as it was Rich’s night off. Her smile was always so large and inviting. Strolling over to your usual spot to find, not to your surprise, one Dean Winchester in your seat with another chair between him and Sam. You pushed between them, rising closer to their level in the seat, suddenly aware that your thin cardigan and tank top left you feeling a little barer than you were comfortable with.

“Well hello there, sleeping beauty,” Dean turned to you. “Heard you snoring all the way from my room.”

You rolled your eyes, thanking Clarisse for setting the first two of your bad-night-usual down. You took one in hand, Dean took the other and clinked it against yours.

“Clarisse, my tab is on his tonight.” She shook her head and leaned forward.

“So Clarisse, what’s a pretty girl like you doin in a dive like this? You should be a model.” Dean ignored you and began to flirt with the bartender, who out of years of practice, could dish his antics right back to him in the sexiest way.

Not one to buy into his obvious jealousy scheme, you turned to Sam. “How’s that arm? I saw the vamp twist it rather hard.”

“It’s a little sore, but I’ve had much, much worse,” He responded. “I’m kinda tired though, think I’m gonna hit the sack. I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Most likely, goodnight, Sam,” You smiled. He gave you a one armed hug, grabbed a to-go bag with his burger from another server, and left.

Well, alone you could do, even if the man next to you was determined to pester the hell out of you. The burgers arrived shortly after, and man did it hit the spot! Nothing like a successful hunting trip and winning race to work up an appetite. You snuck a glance at Dean a few times, and each time his face was buried in his food. Hopefully you didn’t look nearly as goofy as you devoured your own. After a few more drinks in, the bar started to get busy and Clarisse went to tend to other customers. Dean fiddled with the glass in his hand, and you pretended not to notice.

The juke box switched from some new pop hit to “Ramble On” by Led Zepplin, and you both simultaneously exclaimed “Alriiight!”

Dean turned and looked at you in idle amusement. You hadn’t noticed before then the length of his lashes, the arches of his face, or the one little patch along his hairline grew in slightly the opposite direction of the rest. How many freckles did he have? Another whiskey or two in, and you’d probably be trying to count them.

“So what got you started hunting?” He interrupted your thoughts.

“I don’t know. I just started one day.”

“Seriously?”

“Well, yeah. My first kill was in college. A werewolf was picking people off. I was in the library late one night studying, and the damn thing nearly killed me. There was a decorative sword on the wall, and I hacked at the thing until it stopped attacking me, which was only after it lost its head of course. After that, I left campus. Been running and killing monsters since.”

“You’re telling me you had a normal life, and you gave it up for this?”

“Well, not really normal. I never quite fit in. What made you?”

“Long story short, my dad raised us as hunters after a demon killed my mom.”

“Ah,” You remembered. “You’re those Winchesters. Knew that name sounded familiar. Yeah, y’all are spoken about like legends among the hunters who pass through here.”

Dean broke the brief silence. “What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“A normal life—you’re life. What was so wrong that you left it?”

“Well, that my friend, is a long story.”

“We have all night.”

“Suit yourself.” I don’t know why I felt the need to tell this man about my past. No one ever asked, and I never told. “I was raised as a military kid. We bounced around sometimes several times a year. Dad wasn’t around very much, when he was, it was all orders and training—how to fight, to shoot, everything. My little sister came along, and I stepped in and helped raise her. Most of the time, it was only the two of us. I was seven years older. I changed her diapers, made sure she was fed. High school was the hardest. Dad was deployed the longest at that time; what should’ve only been a year turned into three and a half. My mom never could function well when he was gone. She’d go to work, come home, put a can of beans on the stove, and call it a night. Money was scarce. I took care of her and my sister in that time. I got a job when we couldn’t afford it anymore. I always made sure that my mom and sister ate enough, but that didn’t leave me with much for a few years. All the time, the three of them took out their frustrations on me. Especially when Dad would come home,” You winced and let that settle for a moment. Something in Dean’s eyes told you he understood all too well. “Dad retired when I left for college, and they’ve better off. I love them to death, they’re my family, but I never quite fit in. They have a life now. When I was there, it wasn’t much of one. I check in fairly often, they don’t live too far from here. They’re safe and happy. My sister already has her life planned out and is the star dancer and team captain at her high school, and she’s only a freshman.” You beamed as you spoke about her. How strong she was, her personality and her achievements. How kind and beautiful she’s become. “I am so, so proud of her. She’s incredible.”

Dean had leaned in closer at some point, eyes sparkling in the dim light.

“What?” You asked, embarrassed.

“I’m proud of Sammy, too. Things haven’t turned out anything life we’ve ever planned, but he’s a strong kid.”

You raised your glass to Dean. “To proud older siblings.”

“To proud older siblings,” Dean agreed, your glasses clinking in solidarity. Clarisse refilled them. “Thanks, sweetheart.” She bounced away. “Something tells me that’s not the full story.”

Bon Jovi’s “Wanted Dead or Alive” started playing, and you laughed softly. “Well, I think you owe me this dance first.”

“I don’t dance.”

“I don’t either,” You let your knee lightly bump his when you slid from the chair, a sparkle in your eyes and red-cheeked from drinking. Dean’s smile could’ve stretched across an ocean as he followed you, catching your hand and easily spinning you around. He held you close to his chest with one arm around your waist, your hand still in his, and began to dance and hum to the song. He leaned his head down on yours.

Maybe it was the whiskey, or the remaining thrill from this morning’s kill, but you titled your face towards his, and he met you with a kiss. All the annoyances and petty competitions of the last twenty four hours faded from your mind, replaced instead with Dean. Dean Winchester was different than any other man or hunter. He tasted like whiskey and cinnamon. The kiss deepened, need growing in both of you, and warmth flooded your core. This wasn’t you—you didn’t dance in the middle of bars, and certainly not with another hunter. This was strangely okay though, you hadn’t felt this… safe, in so many years. Maybe ever. If you weren’t so caught up in this man, you might have been scared, but here in those arms, nothing would ever scare you again.

“Let’s get out of here,” he whispered in your ear as the song ended, a few people clapping. As you looked away and regained your composure, you noticed that several couples had joined you in the middle of the room. A biker, and a few truckers and their respective dates.

“Okay,” I whispered breathlessly. He paid the tab quickly.

Dean led you out, never letting go of your hand. Rain was coming down hard, and you both paused under the awning, “Your Love” by The Outfield’s opening riffs floating from behind you. You were both smiling like kids. You pulled him with you into a puddle with a splash, and he growled in such a way that only energized you. Racing each other across the dark, empty street to the motel, you’d never felt more alive.

In front of your room, you scrambled to retrieve the key from your back pocket. Dean took your face in his hands, the first time your hands had broken since first contact, and you felt an emptiness at the loss. His lips crashed into yours, an insatiable hunger to be closer threatening to overwhelm you, to get lost in this man who smelled like pine needles, fresh laundry, old leather, metal and gasoline. You were losing yourself in his warmth, backed against the wall when Sam interrupted.

“Oh, sorry!” Sam quickly retreated into his room with a huge beaming smile, but before shutting the door called, “Be safe, kids!”

Dean’s face burned red and he dropped his arms.

You unlocked your door and went in.

“May I?” Dean asked in the doorway.

“You may,” You grinned. You closed the door behind him, and he kicked off his boots and shed his jacket, flopping into your bed. “Look, Dean, you should know the rest. Before this—“ You motioned between the both of you, “—goes any further there are things you need to know.”

“The more?”

“Yeah…” You trailed off.

He looked questioningly at you before nodding, and you climbed in next to him, not even bothering to remove wet layers, your need for that feeling of safety his arms provided too great for your swimming mind. He pulled you in close, just as you’d hoped, and he giggled slightly in his mild intoxication. “I’ve spent my life protecting my family. When I was a kid, many people threatened them. Some were simple—just robbers who came and saw that we had nothing to give—those were easy. They’d apologize and leave. Others have been harder… like my own blood, my own family. Growing up, I had an older cousin who would sneak in all the time and hurt me. After my sister was born, I took twice the abuse from him in order to keep her safe. As we got older, he became more violent and creative.”

You paused, afraid to look up and see his reaction. His spare hand lifted to your face, thumb grazing over your lips, tickling them.

“I bear scars from all of this. A few scars are from my own doing. A few are from stabbings and fights in school, and a few are from fighting monsters. I used to hate these scars. Now, I don’t care as much, but I’ve found that others do. So, there it is. All my crap, or rather, the important crap.”

The silence was deafening.

You flinched. You knew this would happen. You didn’t get heroes or decent men. You worked and lived alone. You would die alone. This was the way things were. The PTSD and anger usually pushed people away faster than this so you’d never felt the need to bare yourself like this—no one was ever around long enough. You thought that at least the man who had been to hell, purgatory, and back again would’ve understood. Guess not. You got up to open the door for him.

Dean reached out and placed his hand on your waist, stopping you before you could get to the door. He stood up and wrapped you in that strong embrace. The both of you remained that way for some time, until your shoulders relaxed and you’d memorized his heartbeat.

When he finally pulled away, there were tear tracks on his face. He wiped them away and removed his shirt. You were too captivated and, honestly, slightly confused, to look away. He placed your hands on his chest. Your eyes held contact as your hands wandered, occasionally grazing over scars of his own. He leaned down and whispered, “I’ve been drawn to you since I saw you throwing back that first shot of whiskey. There’s a reason I sat next to you at the bar last night.”

Your breath hitched as he kissed along your jaw and met your lips. You beamed. “I just thought you were gay. That brother of yours might be even prettier than you.”

“Hey! Come on, really?” He stood back, looking down at you and holding his arms out. “I’m much prettier.” You were both giggling soon, and you reached forward and pulled him with you into the bed.

Wow. Dean Winchester was something. You awoke gazing into his sleeping face, his arm slumped over your bare waist. For a long moment, you tried to sum those freckles, but you lost count. You slipped slowly from his embrace and off the bed. He stirred slightly and gripped is pillow tighter. You grabbed his shirt and a pair of your favorite jeans and sealed yourself in the bathroom.

Proof of the events from the night before were ever present in your reflection—a light mark on your collarbone, a few down your chest and sides, hair untamed and cowlick reminiscent of Alfalfa’s. Your cheeks were still tainted pink and glowing. You showered quickly and got dressed. His sleeves were a few inches too long for your arms, the length coming down your thighs. You loved the way it smelled.

You knew better than this, but something warm was welling up within you. You could not allow yourself to fall in love with a Winchester.  

You walked out of the bathroom and Dean met you with a cup of coffee. Had he tidied up the room? “I found my shirt,” he said, lightly pulling on the collar and stroking your cheek. “I think it looks better on you, keep it.”

You smiled, heat running to your face.

You took the coffee outside to watch the sun rise again, and Dean went to retrieve another shirt from his room. He reemerged, buttoning the last three buttons on his new one. “Sam said to meet him at the diner for breakfast, he already carnapped Baby so I guess you’re driving.” He eyed the truck, looking uncomfortable.

“I won’t hurt you, promise. My driving is better than yours, LOSEchester,” You teased.

Dean slid his arms around you from behind and buried his face in your neck. “No way. I’m getting that rematch. Let’s get some breakfast, I’m starving.”

At the diner, Sam was already in the booth and halfway through a pot of coffee when you arrived. “I saved your spot this time,” He smiled.

“Thanks, Sammy,” You plopped down into the opposite seat, Dean sliding in next to you.

“How was the ride over?” Sam set down the morning paper and winked at his brother, who was still visibly rigid and wide eyed.

“Well, he kept hollering about me driving too fast and almost hitting things, but he obviously isn’t used to riding up so high in a vehicle that big. So eventually I gave him things to worry about.” You winked and elbowed Dean, who just smirked and shook his head.

“You guys had a good night I see.”

Dean winked at Sam. “Yeah, there was drinking, and talking, and talking…”

“Uhh, yeah, I heard a lot of talking last night. Thin walls, man.”

“Oh, poor Sammy,” You jeered.

Dean’s hand rested on your knee for most of breakfast, gentle, reassuring. Why was he being so nice? You didn’t know, but secretly hoped that this wasn’t just another hunter-hookup. It hadn’t truly felt like that, but you’d been burned before.

“Anything in the news?” Dean hadn’t spoken much throughout breakfast, too busy stuffing his face with platters and pie.

“We might have a case two towns over. Get this—more vampires. People with their throats ripped out, blood drained, the usual.” Sam slid over the article.

“Yeah, sounds like it,” Dean replied. “What the hell is with all the vampires out here, man?”

“Will you be joining us, Y/N?” Sam asked.

“Might as well, it’s something I’d normally go take care of. Looks like another nest, I’d love to have help.”

“Oh NOW she wants help. Dean you should’ve just kissed her the first night,” Sam snickered.

“Okay, I’ll call Cas. He should be here in a day or two. He’ll want to help,” Dean said through a mouthful of pie. Sam and you laughed as he struggled to swallow it down.

“Cas as in… Castiel? Your pet angel? Can’t they fly?” You wondered aloud.

“Yeah, but not since the fall. Castiel’s been pretty beat up since then. There’s a lot of angel stuff he can’t do anymore,” Sam explained, guilt lining both brothers’ faces.

“But he’s a part of this team—and our greatest ally,” Dean spoke fondly.

“Then I’m excited to meet him,” You squeezed the hand that was still on your knee. “We should probably head over there today and start scoping the place out.”

@supernatural-jackles @jensen-jarpad @wheresthekillswitch @aseasyasdeanspie @bummblebeeblue @nothin-after-79 @docharleythegeekqueen @fangirl-writing-fiction @deathtonormalcy56

[spn-fanfic-reblog-writes]

Dean, for whatever reason, seems to have no problem with men flirting with him unless it is totally direct and obvious like, um, Aaron, while women flirting with Dean throws him off his game so bad. 😂 poor Dean doesn’t think he is desirable except to men. Says a lot about his past, just saying.

Handsome men: flirt with Dean Winchester

Dean Winchester:

[montanabohemian]

#the way dean winchester always refused to be normal around handsome men

Handsome men: flirt with Dean Winchester

Dean Winchester: