#Dean winchester x You
Text
Something Real
Pairing: Firefighter!Dean W. x F. Reader
Summary: Now that you and Dean are officially engaged, you take some much needed time off together for a family vacation. But even with the wedding set for next year, the two of you are still at odds when it comes to one key part of your future together…
AN: And we’re back in the world of Smoke Eater! I’ve been trying to figure out a way to come back to these two for a while now, and this idea finally struck me. I hope you enjoy!
Word Count: 6.3K
Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Major fluff, angst, PTSD/mentions of sexual harassment (references to Smoke Eater Part 13), family feels, hurt/comfort, and smut.
Catch up on the SE-verse: ⤵️
🔥 Smoke Eater Masterlist
“Dean, are you okay?” you asked.
The man was white knuckling both armrests in his seat, taking pains to breathe in and out steadily. He nodded the slightest bit, humming to himself all the while. You bit your lip to hide your smile.
The plane had just taken off about ten minutes ago.
“Are you singing yourself a lullaby?” you asked.
“Metallica. Calms me down,” he replied.
This, from the man who storms burning buildings.
You couldn’t quite stifle your laugh, though you rubbed his arm. Somehow you managed to slip your hand into his, peeling it off the armrest.
“We’re almost up to altitude. You’re going to be just fine,” you told him.
It didn’t matter. The plane hit a bump of turbulence, which had him squeezing the shit out of your hand. You tried to brave through it for his sake, but eventually, you had to tap out.
“Babe, you’re gonna break my hand,” you hissed. With your free appendage, you squeezed his wrist to get his attention. Dean finally realized what he was doing to you, and he let you go.
“Sorry,” he said, his face contrite.
Your lips twitched. You leaned down to grab your purse and dig inside for your sunglasses. You handed them to him.
Dean glanced down at the brown Dolce & Gabbana shades with skepticism.
“I don’t need your girly sunglasses, thanks,” he said.
“Trust me,” you said. “It’ll help block out some light, so you can close your eyes and try to take a nap.”
“The only way I’m sleeping on this tin can is if you knock me the hell out,” Dean said, matter-of-fact. “Ask Sam if he’s got any Ambien.”
You glanced across the aisle and shared a wry look with Sam and Eileen. Sam shook his head, despite the knowing smile on his face. You turned back to Dean.
“No, not Ambien. Andréa sleepwalks when she takes that shit,” you said. You guided his head toward you so that he rested on your shoulder. You stroked his cheek. “Just relax.”
Dean let out a long, unsteady breath, but he tried to follow your lead. He took your hand again, not in a crushing way this time. He turned it over and admired the shining ring on your finger. The diamond on it was modest, but charming and unique in its setting.
“Hmm, who got you that rock?” he asked. His tone was teasing, making you smile.
“The smokin’ hot guy I’m living with,” you replied. “He finally decided to make a move.”
Dean hummed again, raising his brows.
“Good-looking, smart, and decisive. This guy sounds awesome,” he said.
You pressed a kiss to the side of his head.
“Mhmm, a sexy firefighter. And he’s a Captain now, so I guess that’ll make me his trophy wife,” you teased back. Dean’s shoulders shook with the effort of keeping his laughter quiet. Your smile deepened.
“But he saves lives too…including mine,” you added. “So I guess I can’t complain.”
Dean raised off your shoulder then, just to look at you with a softer smile of his own.
“Well, a pretty girl like you? He’d probably say he got really, really lucky.”
His lips closed in on yours, and you allowed him to draw you into a languid kiss while he laced his fingers with yours. His thumb brushed the engagement ring he gave you, just two weeks ago. His mother’s ring.
It’s the best gift you’ve ever been given.
Oh, hell yes, you thought, when you opened the door to the hotel room. It was beautiful. Stunning really, with a king-sized bed and a view of an enormous pool.
Dean was busy hefting his suitcase and one of your carry-on bags. He whistled in amazement when he saw the room.
“Damn, Sam sure knows how to find a quality Groupon.”
But he struggled to get in the door with all the luggage he was carrying. You held the door open for him.
“Careful with that one,” you said, pointing to your bag that kept knocking between his hip and the door as he shoved through.
“Why’s this thing so heavy? Did you bring Kansas with you? Goddamn,” he grumbled. He was all too happy to dump your bag on the bed.
You rolled your eyes with a smile. You parked your own suitcase on the side by the window. You already knew Dean was going to claim the side closest to the door.
“That bag is just makeup, skincare, and hair products,” you informed him, hefting your bigger suitcase onto the bed. “This is for clothes and shoes.”
Dean shook his head in bemusement. “You’re friggin’ crazy, woman.”
“I need options!” you said defensively. “I didn’t know for sure what I was going to want to wear on this trip. I haven’t been on vacation since I was a kid.”
“Oh yeah? Where’d you go?” he asked while unzipping his own suitcase.
“Disneyland with my grandparents, which was awesome. But I was like, eight at the time,” you said.
They were fond memories, even though no one was left to remember them but you. Still, you tried not to let that bittersweetness dim your good mood.
It was still hard to talk about your grandparents at times, especially because the loss of your grandfather was still so fresh. You didn’t feel like you had enough time to properly mourn him, thanks to everything else that was going on then. (Namely Nick and Daniel Savage, and everything in between.)
Getting over that time was getting easier though, as the months wore on. Sometimes it was hard to believe you’d been with Dean for almost a year. And yet, it felt like so much longer. Like you’d lived half a life with him already.
You went over to look out the window and held your hands on your hips. It was nighttime, but the streets of Miami, Florida were well-lit beyond the pool, and there was something beautiful about a bustling city at night.
“Now this is an adult vacation,” you said.
At that, Dean smiled and walked around the bed to you. He slipped his arms around your waist and held you from behind. You held him right back.
“Damn right it is,” he said. “What do you wanna do first? Dinner, and then check out some nightlife, or skip right to dessert?”
You smiled at the way his voice lowered with thinly veiled suggestiveness.
“Well, I know how much you love dessert,” you said slyly.
Dean’s smile deepened into a smirk.
“Yeah, that may be,” he said. “But don’t pretend you don’t love some hot lemon drizzle.”
You spluttered a laugh, beginning to blush at his hefty double meaning. He cradled your cheek and bowed his head, so he could catch your lips in a deep kiss. You made a sound of surprise, but you soon melted against him.
Already this was worth the several-hour plane ride of Dean bouncing his leg and steeling your iPad so he could distract himself. After the year you both had, all you wanted to do was spend the next few days with no responsibilities, no drama or worries—just your fiancé and your soon-to-be brother and sister-in-law…
Your newfound family.
The night was spent at a nice Cuban restaurant in Miami Beach. Afterwards, you, Dean, Sam, and Eileen explored the boardwalk, and later the downtown Bayside area where a number of shops and kiosks were bustling with life. This was technically Sam and Eileen’s bachelor and bachelorette trip, so you all weren’t wasting any time to explore and see the city.
By the end of the night, you only had enough energy to shower and hit the bed face-first. Dean was actually on board with that, as he was the first one to start snoring on his side of the bed.
The next day though, you felt rested and ready to chill by the pool. Miami Beach itself was a bit too crowded for your tastes, and the others agreed that hanging out at the hotel for a while would be more relaxing after all the travel the day before.
However, when you looked at yourself in one of the two-piece swimsuits you bought specifically for this trip, you couldn’t help but feel…self-conscious. The bikini and bottoms weren’t scandalous, really. You’d seen a lot of thongs, beads, and G-strings already on this trip.
It was just…you were a bit wary of showing this much skin in public.
You didn’t want to think about the reasons behind your unease, however, so you tried to push it out of your mind for now. You put on a long sundress over your swimsuit and finished up your makeup.
A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the bathroom door.
“You done in there, your majesty? I’m getting hungry,” Dean said through the door.
“One more minute. Doing my lipstick,” you replied. “You know we can order lunch by the pool, right?”
“Yeah, if we ever get there,” he said. You were amused when he opened the door. He was already dressed in a loose shirt and board shorts. His eyes swept over your white sundress and red lipstick, and he smiled.
“Lookin’ good, baby,” he said. Though he raised his brows and met your gaze in the mirror. “So can we go?”
You had to laugh.
“I guess we better, before your stomach eats itself,” you quipped.
You lightly smacked the back of your hand against said stomach before you slid past him out the door.
You and Dean ventured downstairs and out back to the pool, where Sam and Eileen had already saved a few deck chairs. While Sam and Dean went to order some food and cocktails, you started pulling out the sunscreen and towels from your beach bag.
“Eileen, you need some sunscreen?” you asked. Your friend was already taking off her shirt and little shorts, revealing a cute violet bikini and bottoms underneath. Her brown hair was loose around her shoulders. She shook her head at your question with a smile.
“No, I’m good. Wanna go in?” she asked, and signed, before she pointed over to the pool.
There were already a couple of families in there with their kids splashing around by the shallow end. That didn’t bother you. It was more the men of various ages milling about, either in the pool, flirting with girls, or by the tiki bar, drinking and likely waiting for opportunities.
You tugged the V-shaped collar of your sundress closer together.
“Not just yet. I think I’ll have something to eat first, try to tan a bit,” you said.
Eileen gave an “OK” sign and headed for the pool.
You shucked your sandals and moved your chair under a large umbrella, but you still had to fan yourself. It was hot as hell, and your dress had long, billowy sleeves.
Sam and Dean eventually returned with some drinks.
“Food’s gonna take a bit, so we probably have time for a dip,” Dean said, handing you a piña colada. He noticed you wiping sweat from your brow.
“Come on, you can cool off in the water,” he said.
You waved him off. “It’s okay. I’m good here for a while. Think I’ll work on my tan.”
Dean rose a brow and gestured at you with a hand.
“You’re gonna do that in the shade, dressed to the ankles?” he asked.
He made a good point, to which you didn’t have a good answer. You sipped at your sweet drink and hummed at the rummy, coconutty taste.
Dean could see there was something off with you, though.
“You okay?” he asked.
You nodded. “Yeah, I’m good. I guess I just don’t feel like swimming, that’s all.”
Dean quirked a brow. You bought three different swimsuits for this trip, but you didn’t want to swim? He pulled his deck chair closer and sat on the edge of it beside you.
One thing he’d come to know about you. When something was bothering you, you didn’t always want to tell him right away. Often when it was something you felt embarrassed about.
He nudged your thigh playfully. “Tell me you’re not gonna make me third wheel the married couple.”
You smiled. “They’re not married yet.”
Three months wasn’t a long time though. You were going to be the Maid of Honor, with Dean, of course, as the Best Man.
“Semantics,” Dean shrugged. He slipped a hand over your knee and squeezed. “Come on. Talk to me.”
After a moment in which you held his gaze, you sighed. You beckoned him closer. Dean leaned over so you could brace a hand on his shoulder and speak close to his ear.
“It’s kind of embarrassing. I just, um…after everything that happened last year, especially before Christmas, I just don’t feel comfortable showing so much skin,” you said. “I don’t want to…attract attention.”
Surprise hit Dean first. He pulled away and frowned at you. But then, his face soon dimmed with grim understanding.
Christmas. In other words, a Christmas party at your old job that had taken a turn for the worst.
Dean knew you had to be talking about Nick Savage.
That bastard was dead and gone, and still, the way he’d sexually harassed you for months was still affecting you, months later. Dean let out a heavy breath through his nose. He reached up to cup your cheek. Your eyes lowered.
“I’m sorry,” you said. “I knew what I was signing up for when we started planning a beach vacation. I guess it just didn’t really hit me until now.”
“Hey, it’s okay,” he said. “But you know I’m gonna be with you. Nothing’s going to happen.”
You nodded; you knew he would protect you in any circumstance, but it didn’t stop men from looking when they had the chance. You just didn’t feel totally comfortable with that kind of attention.
Sensing he hadn’t convinced you, Dean tried to think of a solution.
Then, he had it. He held a finger up in the air. “Ah, here.”
He pulled off his shirt by the back of his neck. You watched him in curiosity.
“This’ll cover you up. You can go ahead and jump in the pool with this,” he said, handing you the shirt.
Your brows knit together. “But you won’t be able to wear this later. It’ll be all wet.”
“That’s okay,” Dean said. “It’s hot as hell out here. And we’ll just be going back up to the hotel room anyway.”
You bit your lip. He made a good point. You were probably going to look weird jumping in the pool with a whole long-ass shirt on, but at least you’d be covered. His shirts tended to reach down to your thighs, where a pair of shorts might cut off.
You smiled and leaned in for a kiss. You stroked his scruffy cheek.
“Thanks,” you whispered.
He nodded with a smile. “Just call me the Problem Solver. No, the Solution.”
You smirked and twined your arms around his neck.
“I prefer Captain,” you said.
Dean’s smile deepened. “You really like that, huh?”
“I really do,” you replied cheekily.
After one more sweet kiss, you asked him to stand in front of you while you took off your long sundress and changed into his shirt over your swimsuit. Afterward, he pulled you in by your waist and spoke close to your ear.
“I like seeing you in my shirt anyway,” he said. You smiled and playfully shoved his arm.
You accepted his lingering hand on your lower back and followed him to the pool. You felt a bit awkward wearing a shirt that billowed in the water when you stepped in, but you decided to ignore the feeling and just try to enjoy being on vacation with your family.
Sam and Eileen welcomed you and Dean over. Eileen did question your state of dress with her eyes, but when you leaned over and explained in her ear, her eyes widened, and she understood. She gave you a look of sympathy and rubbed your arm.
You sighed, but again, you tried to let it go.
You two chatted for a while after claiming a corner of the pool, also watching Sam and Dean swim competitive laps back and forth.
You were engrossed in your conversation with Eileen about her new group of students, when Dean came up from under the water to splash you both. You shrieked with a laugh as you fended off the onslaught, but he hauled you into his arms.
Sam wisely pulled a laughing Eileen out of the orbit. Together they split off for some canoodling, and once he was done playfully trying to dunk you, you were happy to wrap your arms around Dean’s shoulders and float with him in the water.
Dean made way for a couple of kids as they splashed by. A younger girl and an older boy chased each other while swimming with little floaties on their arms. Their parents were keeping a watchful eye on them nearby. Dean smiled and laid a kiss just under your ear.
“That could be us pretty soon,” he said.
“Yeah? How soon are you thinking?” you said in bemusement.
“Hmm. How about next year?” he said, more serious than you expected him to be. You raised your brows at him.
“Dean, we’re not even getting married until next year,” you pointed out. He shrugged and held you a bit tighter. You felt his fingers drifting up and down your bare thigh.
“So we’ll get a head start on the family thing,” he said, grinning.
You couldn’t help but dim at that. You didn’t want to disappoint him, but you also felt you had to inject some reality here. You turned in his arms so that you could face him.
“Babe, I just started my catering business. If I get pregnant, at some point I’ll have to take time off, put everything on pause,” you reasoned. “And…I’m not making the same money I was before.”
At that, Dean began to frown. “I make decent money.”
You nodded, smoothing a hand down his arm.
“Yes, you do,” you agreed.
Aside from his usual hours at the firehouse, Dean had earned his mechanic’s certification a few months ago. So he’d started a side job at Bobby’s salvage yard. He was slowly but surely turning it into a more profitable mechanic’s shop, with Bobby’s blessing.
“But, I think having a baby is going to be a little more expensive than you realize,” you said. “I just want to be more stable with my business before we start a family.”
Dean was quiet for a beat.
“How long then?” he asked.
“I was thinking more like…a few years or so,” you said. Dean’s face fell further, though he tried not to show the true depths of his disappointment.
“Okay, well uh…” He wiped a hand over his mouth and chin. It was an anxious tick of his, you knew. “I guess we’ll talk about it later.”
The conversation settled with putting an implied “pin in it,” but an invisible thread of strain formed between you and Dean for the rest of the afternoon.
Hours later, you and Eileen broke off together to go shopping. You both were trying on clothes at a nearby mall, since she was toying with the idea of wearing something new for dinner tonight. She stepped out of the fitting room to show you a white form-fitting dress that slipped over her curves nicely.
“Oooh, that’s beautiful,” you said, with a little clap of your hands. “And oh! Thinking ahead, you could wear that for the wedding reception too, if you don’t want to deal with the whole wedding dress after the ceremony.”
You knew that her dress had a lot of tulle under the skirt, which might make it difficult to dance in. Eileen gave that idea some consideration, though something occurred to her with a certain smile.
“Well, this dress might not fit so well by then,” she said.
Your brows knitted together. “What? What do you mean?”
Eileen paused for a moment, but she seemed to come to a decision in her mind. She smiled and beckoned you over. You went to her, and she led you to a nearby chaise in the dressing room.
That was where she whispered the news that she was six weeks pregnant.
Your resulting squeal of excitement startled all the other women in the dressing room, including the store’s attendant. You covered your mouth with an embarrassed wave, but you turned back to Eileen and took her hands in yours.
“We were gonna tell you and Dean tonight at dinner,” Eileen said with a laugh. “We found out right before the trip.”
Huh. Now that you thought about it, you didn’t remember her drinking even one cocktail on this trip so far.
“Oh my God, I’m just…” you trailed, as emotion surged in your heart and made your eyes all misty. “I’m so happy for you.”
Eileen laughed and pulled you into a hug.
She explained to you that when she first told Sam on a Tuesday morning before work, he’d fallen into a haze of shock, to a point where it had kind of worried her. But then she showed you a picture on her phone of the first thing Sam bought when he got home that day: the tiniest pair of blue booties.
You laughed again, and cried again. So tiny…
“Of course he assumes it’s a boy, but we’ll see,” Eileen said, with a roll of her eyes. Her soft smile was telling though.
“How do you feel?” you asked, wiping under your eyes.
She paused at the question. She tilted her head, and she raised her gaze to meet yours.
“I’m happy,” she said. “Really happy.”
It was your turn to give her a big hug. And your tears fell anew as you came to another realization.
As usual, Dean was ready for dinner before you. He sat on the edge of the bed while putting on his watch. It was his father’s watch, which John gifted to him for his birthday. Though it had actually belonged to John’s father, Henry.
Dean blew out a breath. Despite his attempts to try and just have a good time tonight (Sam’s advice), he couldn’t forget his conversation with you earlier today in the pool. He didn’t want to move too fast for you, but at the same time, he couldn’t deny that he was still fighting his disappointment, and maybe some melancholy.
Just lock it up, asshole, he told himself.
When you were done putting on the finishing touches on your makeup in the bathroom, you came out and stepped into his line of vision.
“What do you think?” you asked.
Dean’s head lifted, and his eyes widened. You were a sexy sight in black. The dress stopped at mid-thigh, paired with some of the tallest heels he’s seen you wear since his very first date with you.
“Damn,” he said lowly.
You smiled and stepped forward, not stopping until you were standing between his long legs. You took his face in your hands and gave a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. Dean breathed into it, and even needed a bit of a moment to recover when you pulled away.
“Hey, about what we talked about today—” you started. He cleared his throat, raising a hand.
“It’s okay. You’re probably right about all that. The timing’s not right,” he said.
You brushed your thumbs against his cheeks. “But that’s just it…maybe we don’t have to wait so long to start a family.”
Dean perked up, giving you a questioning look. You set your hands on his shoulders. He grasped your hips, almost on reflex.
“Maybe when we get home, we crunch some numbers and figure out how we can do this,” you said.
He shook his head with a frown. “I don’t want you to lose steam on your business. You’ve waited a long time to make that happen.”
You sighed. He was sweet for that, but you’d thought about that too.
“Like I said, we can figure out how to make it work. No matter what job I have, having kids was always our plan.” A smile raised the corners of your lips. “And you know, we have so many people in our lives that’ll want to help us, even if it means we have to work a bit harder.”
Dean’s eyes started to brighten, but he didn’t want to hope too hard.
“Sweetheart, you don’t have to tell me what I want to hear,” he said.
“I’m serious, Dean. I wouldn’t play about this,” you said, squeezing his shoulders. “This is worth it, and I want this with you.”
He started to soften then, and even smile. He got to his feet and wrapped you up in his arms. He held you close, pressing another kiss to the side of your head.
“What changed your mind?” he asked. You bit your lip on a smile.
“Well, if I tell you, you have to promise to act surprised when you hear it later.”
Dean’s brows shot up. “Okay. Color me intrigued.”
You leaned up to his ear and said, “Eileen’s already pregnant.”
And your man full-on malfunctioned. He held you tighter, more to brace himself.
“Holy shit! For real?” he asked. You laughed and nodded.
“Looks like they got a head start on the wedding,” you said.
“I’ll fucking say,” Dean replied, but his grin was so wide, it made you smile harder.
“They didn’t plan for it, but they’re going to make it work,” you said. “It made me realize…we can do the same thing. Just with a bit more planning.”
Dean laughed at that. He knew your anal brain all too well, but in this, he could understand. His hands moved down your lower back.
“Well, you know how we can get ahead of the game?” he said. You knew what he was suggesting with only his eyes, and his meaningful touch.
You would’ve loved to take him up on that, but you glanced pointedly at the digital clock on the nightstand.
“Sam and Eileen are probably waiting for us downstairs,” you said.
Dean sighed, rather dramatically in your opinion. He still bent down to kiss your neck, nipping a bit hard just under your ear. It made you jolt with a surprised yelp.
“We’re not done here,” he said. The depths of his voice made you shiver, but you smiled.
“I’m counting on it.”
You all got back from dinner late, after much celebrating for Sam and Elieen’s news. Dean even bought a bottle of champagne, which poor Eileen couldn’t partake in. (He ordered her a large piece of chocolate cake to make up for it.)
You and Dean returned to the hotel room, but tonight, thoughts of sleep were still far from your mind. You sat on the edge of the bed and slipped off your heels, followed by taking off your earrings. You also watched Dean remove his watch and undo the first few buttons of his dress shirt in the bathroom mirror.
He spied you watching him, and his lips quirked up at the corners.
“What’cha lookin’ at?” he asked in amusement.
Instead of answering him, you stood up and made your way over to him. You hugged him from behind.
“I really needed this,” you confessed. “Getting away from home for a while…I’m reminded that everything I need is right here.”
Dean turned in your arms and pulled you in close. He gave you a slow kiss that simmered with heat.
“Yeah, me too,” he agreed. He caught sight of your bikini and his swim trunks dry on a bathroom rail, and a smile grew on his face.
“Hey,” he said. “I’ve got an idea.”
“We’re so not allowed to do this,” you giggled quietly.
The pool and the surrounding cabanas were empty. Not only was it very late, but the pool was supposed to be closed. However, it did allow you to feel comfortable in taking off your sundress, remaining just in the vibrant green bikini you were wearing earlier today. Dean took you by the hand, and the two of you tried to keep quiet while stepping into the pool.
“Oh, God, it’s freezing,” you whisper-laughed. Dean’s jaw locked, but he was also smiling, trying not to shiver.
“Aw, shit!” he said, when the water got past his waist, hitting his more sensitive areas. “Why’s it so damn cold?”
You moved closer to him and slipped your arms around his middle, trying to steal his body heat. He welcomed you with an arm wrapping around your waist.
“I guess they count on the sun to warm it up,” you replied. “We are in the Sunshine State after all.”
“Know it all,” Dean playfully groused. “I’m freezing my tits off.”
You saw the goosebumps that had broken out across his arms, and yours too. You smirked and teased one of his hardened nips with your fingers.
“Yeah, you are,” you agreed. He laughed and looked down at your bikini top, raising his brows at the stiff peaks.
“So are you,” he said. If you two stayed in here much longer, his nads were going to pay the price. “Maybe this wasn’t one of my best ideas.”
“Nope,” you said, shaking your head and hugging him tighter. “Definitely one of your best. But maybe let’s hop in that jacuzzi over there.”
Dean twisted his head in the direction you were pointing, and sure enough, there was a nice hot tub a few yards from the pool. You both left the pool and braced the cool air on your skin long enough to run to the jacuzzi, quietly laughing all the while.
Dean turned the dial on the heat and cranked up the bubbling, and soon you two were able to relax together in the much warmer water. He held you to his chest, his fingers dragging up and down your arm, while you just took in some deep, relaxing breaths. You let go of every bit of stress that might’ve still been clinging to your psyche.
A few minutes in, you turned your head to press a sweet kiss under his jaw. His wet scruff prickled against your lips, but you didn’t mind.
“Ever think about letting this enter beard territory?” you asked.
“Eh,” Dean shrugged, still rubbing some warmth back into your arm. “Not really my look.”
“It could be,” you said. A smile curved your lips. You turned in his arms to straddle his lap, where you got the leverage to cup his face. You gently scratched your nails along his stubbly cheeks.
He raised a brow. “You want me to go full lumberjack, don’t you?”
“Maybe not full lumberjack,” you teased. “I’d settle for quarter-lumberjack.”
Dean chuckled loud enough that you had to shush him, with your mouth covering his. His heavy hands spanned your lower back as you treated him with progressively dirtier kisses. His hands lowered to grip your ass, encouraging you to grind down on him. You were more than willing to oblige him.
Even with the light of the moon, a large palm tree covered the jacuzzi in some shade. It made the empty courtyard feel a little more secluded. You felt just secure enough with him here to reach down below the water. You slipped your hand under the waistband of his shorts, where you began to stroke his hardening length to full mast.
He groaned into your mouth and squeezed your hips on reflex.
“Better be careful, baby. You’re playing with fire right now,” he said gruffly. He had no compunctions about finishing what you’d started, right here and now.
You smirked, but you did pull your hand out of his shorts and took his hand instead.
“Come on,” you whispered.
When you and Dean made it back to the hotel room, it was a quick stop to the bathroom.
He guided you back against the tile wall in the shower and stole your breath with a hard kiss. His hand flew to the shower knob and turned on the water.
Luckily this shower had a ledge for shampoo bottles and soap. You knocked all of that shit over when you hiked your foot up on it. You raked your nails through his hair and left his lips, just to suck harder on his neck.
In turn, Dean untied your bikini with a practiced hand and let it drop with a wet thwap on the floor. He kneaded your breasts and rolled his thumbs over hardened nipples. He actually rubbed some warmth back into your skin as his hands migrated down your body. And he helped you shimmy out of the bikini bottoms, just as you helped him with the shorts.
He took a healthy grip of your bare ass and again ground you against him, making you smile against his neck. But his fingers slipping between your legs disrupted your train of thought entirely. You felt his fingertips at your entrance, probing your depths, just testing the waters first. You gave a needy hum and clung to his arms.
He chuckled near your ear. “Already soaked, huh?”
“You didn’t exactly play fair,” you said, panting for breath. He hadn’t stopped touching you all the way from the jacuzzi to the elevator. You hadn’t even completely dried yourselves, leaving a trail of water from the scene of the crime, all the way up to the third floor where your room was.
Dean earned a wanton moan from you when his fingers roughly massaged your clit. Your head pressed back against the tile wall, your hands clasping on his shoulders tight as a shudder of pleasure rippled through your body. He stroked you right to the edge of pleasure, until he could start to feel you tighten on him. Then he withdrew his hand.
You whined at the empty feeling, giving him a look of annoyance. “Dean?”
“Patience,” he smirked. He used your wetness on his fingers to stroke himself back to painfully hard.
You scoffed at his words. This man didn’t often have a patient bone in his body.
But once he was ready for you, he took advantage of the way you’d hiked up your leg, and he held you open while he positioned himself at your entrance. He took your hand and moved it down to replace his fingers on your clit.
“Keep touchin’ yourself,” he ordered. His voice became laced with both grit and desire. You followed his directions and kept circling your fingers around that sensitive bundle of nerves, even though it forced a keening moan from your throat when he pressed his cock inside you.
“Fuck, don’t stop,” he muttered. Your inner walls were squeezing on him tightly, like you were already halfway there. Dean aimed to catch up with you as he grabbed your hips and set an almost punishing pace. He wrapped your thigh around his hip so he could get an even deeper angle to his thrusts. He grabbed onto the shower head when he felt his foot slipping a bit in the tub.
You hung onto him by the back of his neck as the coil in your lower belly became dangerously tight. “Oh, fuck. Dean…”
He knew you were close. He could feel it. He replaced your fingers with his own over your clit, searching for the spot he knew always made you come undone.
And he knew when he found it—you cried out at the warm pulsing in your core as it quivered around him.
“Let go, baby,” he said roughly in your ear. He gave you a few more hard thrusts, both to draw out your orgasm and to finally reach his own. His balls clenched and a ragged groan escaped him, along with his release coating your walls.
By now, the hot water from the shower head had turned lukewarm, but neither of you really cared, blinking drops of the spray out of your eyes as you each caught your breath. Dean brushed your wet hair away from your neck. You smiled, and you guided him by his cheek, back to your lips for a softer kiss.
“‘S a damn shame you’re still on the pill,” he remarked.
You blinked in response. When his words finally registered, you burst out laughing. You pressed your forehead against his. Jesus, did this man have baby fever.
“Let’s just get married first. Then we’ll work on it, I promise,” you told him. “Besides, we don’t want to steal your brother’s thunder.”
Dean grimaced and made a sound of disgust.
“For fuck’s sake, you mind not mentioning my brother at a time like this?” he said.
To be fair, he was still deep inside you. He slipped himself out and let the shower head begin to wash away the remnants.
“Sorry, sorry,” you laughed and drew him back in for another kiss.
Despite himself, Dean couldn’t help but smile against your lips. His left hand twined with yours, where your ring glistened under the florescent light.
A year ago, he never thought he would be here. A year ago, he didn’t plan any further than tonight, and how he was going to get back to his life tomorrow.
A year ago, while he did have his brother…Dean still felt alone.
Now, he had something real. He was on the cusp of sharing the rest of his life with someone who understood him, supported him, loved him, despite the demands of his job.
Now, he had an actual future to build with you.
And he was more than ready to get started.
AN: I so hope you guys enjoyed this addition to the SE-verse. Let me know what you think! 😘❤️🔥
(Also, just to let you know, this sequel story might be made into a podfic, so stay tuned if that interests you!)
Ko-Fi Me ☕
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Girl's Night
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Jody and Donna ask you for help on a hunt and you all get drunk and call your boyfriend while you're away
Warning: fluff, cuteness, kissing, mentions of a hunt so violence?, celebratory drinking, getting drunk
A/N: not proofread, all mistakes are my own
You woke up earlier than you usually did. Jody had given you a call to tell you that her and Donna had caught wind of a pack of werewolves just south of Sioux Falls and could use your help taking them out.
You wanted to start driving early so you could avoid most of the traffic and so you could offer your expertise as soon as possible. However, mornings aren't really your thing. You fought back the groan at how much you didn't want to leave your comfortable spot in bed where Dean was currently keeping you warm. Nonetheless, you began wiggling your way out from under his arm. You were trying not to wake him up this early because he hadn't slept enough this week.
As you tossed some clothes into your duffel bag, you thought you might be able to make it out without waking him, but he was always a light sleeper. A quiet grumble of your name sounded from beneath the covers.
"Hey baby," you whispered going back to the side of the bed.
"You leaving?" he asked, noticing your packed duffle bag, voice rough with sleep.
"Yeah, Jody asked me to help her and Donna take out some wolves."
He nodded and reached for you to pull you into a hug which, from the position he was in, meant that you were just laying on top of him. He was always extra cuddly in the mornings and you loved it, despite how much it tempted you to crawl back under the covers with him. "Be careful out there," he said, placing a kiss to your temple.
"You know I will." You propped yourself up on your elbow so you could look down at him. "Besides, you know it's gonna be a milk run. They probably don't even need me, they just want me to come up there so we can have girl's night."
He chuckled at that, because he knew you were right. Now that he thought about it, the last time he saw them, Donna had threatened that she'd drive down to Kansas herself and kidnap you if he didn't hand you over for a weekend.
He leaned up to plant a sweet kiss to your lips. "Call me when you finish the hunt so I know you're ok."
"I will." You kissed him again before crawling off of him. "I love you, go back to sleep."
"I love you too, sweetheart," he said, already burying his face into the pillow.
You couldn't help but smile at how quickly he gave in to your request. Grabbing your duffle, you headed out of the bedroom to say your goodbyes to Sam before you made your way to your car to start the long drive up to Sioux Falls.
------
The hunt ended up being even easier than you thought it would be. You, Jody and Donna made a pretty formidable and efficient hunting team. The hunt was done before the sun even fully set, so you headed back to Jody's house to begin cooking dinner.
You all decided to forget the plan of cooking dinner and reward yourselves for a hunt-well-done by ordering pizza instead. Claire was off on her own hunt and Alex was working a late shift at the hospital. That left only you, Donna and Jody, sitting on the livingroom floor around a mostly empty pizza box, passing around a bottle of wine.
After catching up on everything and finishing off the bottle of wine, Jody decided to pull out the bourbon and poured a good amount of each of you.
------
About an hour later, the three of you were well past tipsy and were having the best time laughing and telling stories from various hunts.
"Soooo", Jody began with a hint of mischief in her voice. "How's Dean?"
"Yeah we need to hear about our favorite couple," Donna chimed in.
You knew she was talking about you and Dean but you decided to play around. "I don't know what you're talking about," you teased.
"Oh come on you know what we're talk'n about. We want to know what you and ol' Dean's like when you're away from the eyes of the world, y'know, when you put the hunter armor down," Jody inquired.
"I betcha he wears fuzzy socks and watches chick-flics, don't he?" Donna added teasingly.
That had you almost rolling on the floor with laughter. "Oh yeah, definitely."
It was nice being kind of childish like this with them. You had never had many friends in your teenage years and the hunting life didn't typically allow for gal-pals, but you had developed a really good friendship despite not having the time to see each other very often.
You wiped the tears of laughter from your eyes. "Oh shit, I forgot to call him", you attempted to grab your phone out of your bag, which took longer than needed, given your lack of coordination. "Dean asked me to call him after the hunt."
Jody and Donna looked at each other and awwww'ed in unison.
You tapped Dean's contact and put the phone to your ear. After a few rings you heard his voice. "Hey sweetheart."
"Heeeey", you greeted excitedly, voice slightly slurred.
"Hiya Dean-o", Donna said loud enough for Dean to hear.
You could hear him laugh on the other end, clearly gathering that you were all pretty inebriated and having a good time. "So I take it the hunt went well", he said with amusement in his voice.
"Oh it went great, we're badasses."
"I have no doubt of that," he said fondly.
"Hey Dean!" Jody cut in. "Is it true you wear fuzzy sock and watch chick-flicks when you're at home?"
"Baby, what did you tell them about me?" Dean asked you with mock annoyance.
"Oh nothing," you responded playfully. "Anyway gotta go."
You could hear he was barely holding back from laughing. "Hey hold on-" *click*
You bit your lip as you hung up on him before looking up at Jody and Donna. As soon as you made eye contact you all bust out laughing.
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#dean x reader fluff#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean x female!reader#supernatural fic#supernatural fanfiction
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maine coon
Summary: Dean initially hated your small touches. He used to feel weird with them on his skin. But now he craves them. He craves the high of feeling like a human, and you’re the best hit he’s ever had.
TW: Mentions of borderline dehumanisation (cause we hate John guys for making those two beautiful boys soldiers/mindless machines), two idiots in love, tooth rotting fluff! Thought up this little drabble :)
A/N - Maine coon because they’re a very friendly cat breed! Plus, a little comfort for Dean cause he needs it :) set in s1
Little touches.
It started like that. Just small brushes of your hand on his shoulder and ruffling of Sam’s hair. The younger Winchester would brush you off politely, fix his hair but wear an affectionate smile anyway.
Not Dean.
Dean would grumble, pout angrily, act as if he was wiping off the invisible trail your hands left and claim that he wasn’t a baby. All at first. But slowly, like an ice lolly in the sun, slowly melting, he found himself less inclined to brush you off. He’d get jumpy and irritable if you didn’t show him that affection for too long. He even found his nightmares appearing less frequently after being lulled to sleep with his head in your lap, your fingers in his hair because he couldn’t sleep.
You slept better too, knowing he was ok and he was able to turn to you, even though it was wordless. All it took was a flash of puppy eyes and you knew what he needed. The comfort that he deserved, after working himself to the bone protecting Sammy and you like his father taught him. Like a good soldier.
He didn’t feel like that with you.
Sleep was gently coaxed out of him by the sensation of nails on his scalp, a groan muffled by his face in his pillow as he instantly recognised the cool sensation of the ring on your finger as your hand smoothed down his hair. “Wake up, Dean.” You murmured softly, your thumb tracing his ear, and he almost smiled at the sensation. Almost.
The aroma of coffee hit his lungs, and when your hand ran down to gently press against his shoulders and massaging down to his shoulder blades, he didn’t feel so inclined to sleep further. So he sat up. He wanted to see you, your gorgeous face, with the eyes that told a thousand stories and those lips that were worth a thousand dollars when they were pursed in anger. Which only came out when someone hurt him or Sam.
He didn’t feel like he had a sword and shield in his hand in moments like these. Instead, he had a warm cup of coffee and your hand briefly petting his hair, which he leaned into before it even touched his head. “Mornin’.” He rasped out, voice crackly and hoarse from the morning, smacking his lips to get the morning taste off before taking the first heavenly hit of caffeine. And relishing in the aftershocks of the second euphoric high of your touch. “S’some damn good coffee, darlin’.”
“Black, two spoons o’ sugar, and a dash of beer.” You gave him a small smile as you stood up and moved to the kitchenette of your small motel room, looking beautiful to Dean even in your oversized shirt and sleep shorts, complete with black ankle socks. You had bed head that you were yet to sort out, but Dean was dazzled by the halo he could see over your head.
His mom said angels were watching over him. Maybe this is what she meant.
“Just how you like it.” You added, working to make some breakfast. The smell of cooking eggs and frying bacon filled the space, a small smile on your face as you contently cooked food for the man who was approaching you, coffee cup raising to his lips as his eyes followed you like a lost puppy. The cup clinked as it was set down on the counter, Dean’s tongue darting out to lick his lips before biting the bottom one as he tentatively made his way over to rest his chin on your shoulder from behind, his eyes closing slowly like a cat when your hand reached behind to gently play with his hair.
“Smells nice.” He murmured, almost like a purr as he leaned into your touch.
You chuckled, your fingers rubbing over the silky, spiky strands of his morning hedgehog hair. “That’s ‘cause I’m an amazing cook.”
“I don’t deserve you.” Dean added with a contented groan, wanting so badly to tell you how he felt. So much that it was threatening to burst out of his chest.
“What did I tell you about saying that?” You chastised, piling his plate with a bit extra of everything that he liked before sliding it closer to him. “C’mon, eat.”
“Thanks.” He cupped your cheeks, leaning in.
It was meant to be a simple kiss on the forehead. That’s all it was meant to be. But by some miracle (or maybe his eternal bad luck), his lips pressed against yours. Soft, slow, sweet. He puckered up, eyebrows raising in surprise, his eyelashes fluttering but staying closed before he decided to pull himself away, but it felt like yanking. Tugging. Practically peeling himself off, cause he didn’t want to let go.
His eyes didn’t open for at least a few second. But when he did, he saw yours. Your shining eyes, with a small, amused smile on your lips. Your gorgeous lips, that he just wanted to see swollen with all the kisses and love he could give you.
“What was that for?” Came your voice, quiet and docile as you looked at him in a way that only you could. Only you.
“I don’t know.” He murmured, eyes flicking to your lips again, itching for that high again. That hit. So he let himself taste you again, let himself lose his way in the labyrinth that came with your hand on the side of his neck and his cradling your cheek. The taste of coffee, the different ways you both liked it sweetening your palettes in a beautiful mix of sweet, sour and alcohol. The smell of old leather gracing you while the scent of your lavender body wash flooded him and sent him past cloud nine.
You pulled back slowly, because you also wanted to savour him. But when you saw the look on his face, his slightly swollen lips and the way they were parted in awe, you couldn’t help but melt and thumb his bottom lip.
“I think…” You paused to kiss his cheek softly, whispering against it, “I think I know.”
Make sure to leave feedback, everyone! I’d appreciate reblogs, likes and comments!
TAGLIST: @k-slla
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#spn#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#spn masterlist
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| Hidden Feelings Pt. 4 |
GIF: Mine
Pairing(s): Dean Winchester X Fem!Reader Sam Winchester X Fem!Reader (Platonic)
Genre: Fluff
Warning: Age gap (Dean: 26 Reader: 21), 1 Kiss, use of Y/n.
Summary: You’re Bobby Singer’s daughter, and after John died Sam and Dean come to stay with you.
——————————————————
It’s been a few days since Dean began acting… weird. You tried to think about what changed to make him act that way, but there wasn’t much that came to mind.
“Morning Y/n,” Sam said pulling you from your thoughts.
“Morning,” You mumbled back as your eyes stayed fixated on the cooking food in front of you.
“You okay?” Sam asked and you shrugged your shoulders before speaking.
“It’s nothing, really… I’m just overthinking,”
“C’mon Y/n, I have enough with Dean, don’t you stop talking to me too,”
A sigh escaped past your lips before you asked, “For the past few days, don’t you think Dean’s been acting weirder than usual?”
“Yea, one hundred percent,” Sam said instantly, and you finally turned to look at him.
“Do you know why?” You questioned.
“Yes.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
“No.”
“Who’s the one not talking now?” You asked
“Because whatever’s between you two, I would rather not know about until Bobby does,” Sam told you, and your brows scrunched together in confusion.
“Between us- you think… No, Dean doesn’t like me like that,” You told Sam and breathed out a laugh at the ridiculous idea.
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that, and…” Sam paused for a second before finishing, “You never said anything about you liking him,”
You paused for a second, thinking of what to say before you pointed your spatula at Sam, and said “I will burn your breakfast,”
Sam laughed sticking his hands up in the air before speaking, “Okay, I’m backing off,”
—
You sat in your room as you attempted to do your collage work, but your mind kept drifting off to what Sam said this morning.
“Between us- you think… No, Dean doesn’t like me like that,” “I wouldn’t be so sure about that-”
You thought about the day that Dean began acting weird. The only thing that was different was the way you dressed because of how warm it was that day, apart from that, everything was normal.
With that thought you decided to test the theory, what’s the worst that could happen?
Digging through the clothes in your dresser you found the same skirt you wore the other day. This time you pared it with a light blue tank top and an oversized, white, zip up hoodie, which you left unzipped.
When you walked downstairs, Sam stormed into the house and into the kitchen making your brows scrunch together in confusion.
“Sam, you good?” You asked.
“Yeah, m’fine,” he said back, but you followed him into the kitchen.
“Are you sure?”
“Honestly Y/n, I’m fine,”
Just like the other Winchester, Sam won’t talk until he’s ready, so you just left it at that and walked outside.
As you approached the Impala, Dean was hitting the trunk door with what looked like a golf club. You didn’t say anything, you just kept a small distance and stayed quiet until he had finished.
“What happened?” You finally spoke up when Dean stopped. He looked over at you and his eyes moved down your body, suddenly you felt slightly exposed.
Maybe this wasn’t the best thing to do…
Without realising, you wrapped your arms around your body and took a small step back, then Dean’s eyes moved back up your body meeting your eyes.
Dean dropped the golf club and walked over to you, his hands found their new places on your cheeks, then his lips connected with yours.
——————————————————
@kr804573 @jackles010378 @figurantedefilme @iloveyou2mia @onlyangel-444 @star-yawnznn @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @imaginationlover101 @arrowenchantress @qinnroki
#dean winchester#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x oc#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#spn#spnfandom#supernatural#fluff#sam winchester#kiss
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Something Wicked | Supernatural Series Rewrite | Dean Winchester x Reader
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Warnings: canon violence, canon gore, implications of verbal parental abuse
Word Count: 4885
Series Rewrite Masterlist
The two boys were bickering over coordinates Dean had received from an anonymous number.
“Dude, I ran LexisNexis, local police reports, newspapers, I couldn't find a single red flag. Are you sure you got the coordinates right?” Sam asked.
“Yeah, I double checked. It's Fitchburg, Wisconsin. Dad wouldn't have sent us coordinates if it wasn't important, Sammy.”
“Well, I'm telling you, I looked, and all I could find was a big steamy pile of nothing. If Dad's sending us hunting for something, I don't know what.”
“Well, maybe he's going to meet us there.”
“Yeah. ‘Cause he's been so easy to find up to this point.”
You sighed. You weren’t about to get in the middle of this argument and tuned the rest of it out. Alas, Dean won the argument, as he often did.
You stopped for some coffee along Fitchburg’s main street. The town itself was small, but it was quaint. A little too Middle America for your taste.
“Well… the waitress thinks the local freemasons are up to something sneaky, but other than that, no one's heard about anything freaky going on,” Dean sighed, handing you and Sam your respective coffee orders.
“Dean, you got the time?” you asked him.
“Ten after four. Why?”
You nodded in front of you at the playground you were looking at. “What's wrong with this picture?”
It was deserted aside from one child climbing on the jungle gym.
“School's out, isn't it?” Dean questioned.
“Yeah. So where is everybody?” Sam added. “This place should be crawling with kids right now.”
You and the Winchesters walked over to a woman on a park bench reading a magazine. Dean approached her, saying, “Sure is quiet out here.”
The woman sighed, “Yeah, it’s a shame.”
“Why's that?”
“You know, kids getting sick, it's a terrible thing.”
“How many?”
“Just five or six but serious, hospital serious. A lot of parents are getting pretty anxious. They think it's catching,” she explained.
All four of you watched the little girl playing by herself, and the wheels in your head began to turn. Why would John send you all the way to Fitchburg over a few sick kids?
The three of you made your way up to the pediatrics ward of the hospital to investigate the sick children. Dean and Sam donned suits, and you wore a pencil skirt and heels. You couldn’t lie to yourself, Dean looked amazing in his suit, but you much preferred his usual leather jacket and biker boots.
“See something you like?” Dean smirked at you.
Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say. He just snickered in response while your cheeks burned.
A doctor approached you and the boys before Dean could taunt you any further. You introduced yourselves and headed down the corridor with the man. “Well, thanks for seeing us, Dr. Hydecker,” Dean said.
“Well, I'm glad you guys are here. I was just about to call CDC myself. How'd you find out anyways?” the doctor asked.
“Oh, some GP— I forget his name— he called Atlanta, and, uh, he must've beat you to the punch,” Dean lied.
“So you say you got six cases so far?” you asked.
“Yeah, five weeks. At first we thought it was garden variety bacterial pneumonia. Not that newsworthy. But now…”
“What?”
“The kids aren't responding to antibiotics. Their white cell counts keep going down. Their immune systems just aren't doing their job. It's like their bodies are... wearing out.”
“Wait, but are there any signs of leukopenia?” you asked. “Any history in these kids of that?”
Dean looked over at you, confused by what you were saying. You continued to talk to the doctor.
“No, actually,” Hydecker answered.
“What about neutropenia?”
He shook his head as a nurse handed him a clipboard full of papers.
“Then, whatever this is would have to be attacking the bone marrow as well as the respiratory system… Have you done biopsies?”
“No, we haven’t,” Hydecker answered. “I’ll give that a try.”
“You ever seen anything like this before?” Sam questioned.
“Never this severe,” the doctor said. “And the way it spreads… that's a new one for me.”
“What do you mean?” asked Sam.
“It works its way through families. But only the children, one sibling after another.”
“You mind if we interview a few of the kids?” Dean questioned.
“They’re not conscious,” the doctor replied.
You were shocked. “None of them?”
“No.”
“Can we, uh, can we talk to the parents?” tried Dean.
“Well, if you think it'll help.”
“Yeah. Who was your most recent admission?”
Hydecker directed you to a man sitting on a chair against the wall in the waiting room. He looked like he hadn’t slept in days. He explained to you the oldest girl was first, and then his youngest. He told you that her window had been opened, but there was no one who could’ve done so except for his daughter because her room was on the second floor.
You and the boys headed out of the pediatrics ward and back toward the car.
“(Y/N), how’d you know all that stuff?” Sam asked you, referencing your conversation with the doctor.
“I like to read,” you shrugged. Sam smiled at your response and walked a little ahead of you.
Dean came up next to you. “You were really serious about nursing, huh,” he said softly enough so Sam wouldn’t hear.
“I guess. I really do just like to read, though,” you smiled. “I think I just wanted to stick it to my dad. I always thought I’d be happier not hunting. But, uh, I just don’t think I could ever go back to being ‘normal’.”
“Yeah, I get that,” he responded.
Sam turned back to you and his brother. “You know, this might not be anything supernatural. It might just be pneumonia.”
“No way,” you shook your head, “pneumonia wouldn’t be lowering white blood cell count. It’d have to be elevated for it to be true pneumonia. Infection and all that.”
Sam hummed. “Okay, so then what’s your theory?”
“Honestly? Not sure.”
“I'll tell you one thing,” said Sam. “That dad we just talked to? I'm betting it'll be a while before he goes home.”
***
“You got anything over there?” Sam asked Dean. The three of you had climbed through the home of the last two kids who had gotten sick looking for clues.
“Nah, nothing,” the older brother answered.
“Yeah, me neither,” you chimed in. You moved over to the window and paused. “Hey guys? I really don’t think it’s pneumonia.”
The boys came over and followed your line of sight to a rotted handprint with long, tendril-like fingers.
“What the hell leaves a handprint like that?” Sam asked.
Dean seemed to get pulled away into his own mind for a moment before he began to look a little sick. “I know why Dad sent us here. He's faced this thing before. He wants us to finish the job.”
Dean raced down the stairs to the window on the back of the house you’d climbed through. You followed him close behind. You would ask him what had happened to him in the little girl’s bedroom later.
Dean explained to you on the ride to the motel what he thought you were hunting: a shtriga.
“So what the hell is a shtriga?” Sam asked as Dean pulled into a motel parking lot. This motel was a little cuter than the ones you’d visited previously; centered around a white cabin with green shingles.
“It's kinda like a witch, I think. I don't know much about 'em,” explained Dean.
“Well, I've never heard of it. And it's not in Dad's journal.”
“Dad hunted one in Fort Douglas, Wisconsin, about sixteen, seventeen years ago. You were there. You don't remember?”
Sam shook his head.
“And I guess he caught wind of the things in Fitchburg now and kicked us the coordinates,” Dean went on.
“So wait, this…” Sam paused, waiting for Dean to remind him how to pronounce it.
“Shtriga.”
“Right. You think it's the same one Dad hunted before?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“But if Dad went after it, why is it still breathing air?” Sam’s brows furrowed together.
“ ‘Cause it got away.”
Sam scoffed. “Got away?”
Dean was beginning to get frustrated, and you knew it was a cover-up for whatever was going on inside his head. “Yeah, Sammy, it happens.”
“Not very often.”
“Well, I don't know what to tell ya, maybe Dad didn't have his wheaties that morning,” snarked the older brother.
“What else do you remember?”
“Nothin'. I was a kid, alright?” Dean said defensively. You followed him into the motel lobby only to see a little boy watching TV in one room and a boy around ten or eleven walking out of it.
“A king or two queens?” The boy asked, looking between you and Dean.
“Two queens,” you and Dean answered quickly. “And one king, actually,” you added, stepping aside to reveal Sam behind you.
A woman entered smiling at you both. “Checking in?”
You nodded to her.
“Do me a favor, go get your brother some dinner,” the woman instructed the boy.
“I'm helping a guest!” he protested, but turned away under his mother’s hard stare. “Two queens. And a king.”
“Will that be cash or credit?” she asked you.
Dean took out his card. “You take MasterCard? Perfect. Here you go.”
You watched him look behind the woman at the boy pouring his younger brother a glass of milk. And there he went again; pulled into what you could only assume was memories of himself and Sam.
The woman before you held out his card to zoned-out Dean, and you took it from her instead. “Uh, thanks.” She handed you the keys, and you nudged Dean to bring him back to reality.
***
Dean explained to you and Sam what shtrigas fed off: children, most commonly. The only thing that could kill them were specially designed wrought-iron rounds while the thing was feeding. They often take the form of something unsuspecting; like an old woman.
“Hang on,” Dean said. “Check this out. I marked down all the addresses of the victims. Now these are the houses that have been hit so far and dead center?”
“The hospital,” you noted.
“Now, when we were there, I saw a patient; an old woman,” Dean continued.
“An old person huh?” questioned Sam. “In a hospital? Phew. Better call the Coast Guard.”
You giggled at Sam.
“Well, listen, smart-asses, she had an inverted cross hanging on her wall.”
You and Sam stopped snickering and looked up at Dean. He raised an eyebrow at you.
And so, you headed to the hospital. Fortunately for her— but unfortunately for your hunt— the old woman with the upside down cross on the wall was just cataract-ridden and crotchety. Upon your return to the motel after thoroughly freaking out the old woman, you pulled Dean to your motel room for a talk before bed.
“What’s up?” he asked, sitting on a chair in your room.
You sat on the bed across from him. “Where do you keep going?” you asked.
“Huh?”
“Sorry, I just realized how stupid that sounded. You keep, like, disappearing into your own brain,” you responded. “Like in the motel lobby. You zoned out looking at that kid and his brother.”
“Oh, that,” he said quietly. “I, uh, it’s stupid.”
“Dean,” you leaned over your crossed legs and rested your hand on his knee. “I’m asking you. It’s not stupid. I just care.”
“Oh, come on—”
“Dean,” you said. “You made me a pinky promise at that scary asylum. You promised you’d tell me. Please?”
He huffed out a small laugh. “You know how I said my dad hunted this thing before?”
You nodded.
“Well, I’m the reason it got away.”
“How? Didn’t you say it was sixteen, seventeen years ago? You would’ve been ten, dude,” you responded.
“Yeah, but it’s complicated. My dad left us alone in motel rooms all the time. He made me repeat to him what I was and wasn’t supposed to do every time he would go out on a hunt. Sam and I would fight over the last bowl of Lucky Charms from the groceries Dad got us for the week; y'know, stupid kid stuff,” he chuckled. “But it’d been days. I was climbin’ the walls, (Y/N). I had to get some air. I went to an arcade to just… blow off some steam, I guess.
"When I came back, the thing was over Sammy’s bed. I was frozen. My dad came in and shot it a couple times, but it got away. Dad just... grabbed us and booked. Dropped us off at Pastor Jim's about three hours away, but by the time he got back to Fort Douglas, the shtriga had disappeared; it was just gone. It never surfaced until now. Y'know, Dad never spoke about it again, I didn't ask." He looked away from you attempting to swallow his emotions. "But he, ah, he looked at me different, you know? Which was worse. Not that I blame him. He gave me an order, and I didn't listen; I almost got Sammy killed.”
“Dee, you were a kid,” you said softly. He went to cut you off, but you stopped him. “No, let me talk. I know how that feels. My parents left me with Stevie all the time. I would've done the same thing you did. We were kids. We had to take on parental responsibilities. Anybody would be going stir crazy, especially at ten years old like you were.”
“(Y/N)—”
“No,” you told him, grabbing his hand. “You cannot blame yourself. I won’t let you. Would you let me?”
He shook his head.
“Exactly.”
He held your intense stare and rubbed a thumb over your hand. The two of you awkwardly pulled away from each other, and Dean cleared his throat. “Uh, thank you, for, y’know—”
“Yeah, any time,” you said, walking him to the door.
***
The next morning, you and Sam were teasing Dean about the old woman from the hospital the night before. You were headed to the car to go get some breakfast.
“ ‘I was sleeping with my peepers open’?” Sam laughed heartily, remembering the old woman's strange way of talking.
“I almost smoked that old girl, I swear. It's not funny!” Dean grunted.
“Oh man, you shoulda seen your face,” you giggled.
“Yeah, laugh it up. Now we're back to square one.” He looked over to the ten-year-old blond boy sitting on the bench behind his mother’s office. “Hang on.” He led you over to the child. “Hey, what's wrong?”
“My brother's sick,” he replied.
“The little guy?”
He nodded. “Pneumonia. He's in the hospital. It's my fault.”
“Ah, c'mon, how?” You could tell Dean’s mind was racing just based on his tone.
“I should’ve made sure the window was latched. He wouldn't've got pneumonia if the window was latched,” the boy lamented.
You watched, frowningly thoughtfully, as Dean looked away from the boy.
“Listen to me. I can promise you that this is not your fault. Okay?” Dean assured him.
“It's my job to look after him,” the boy frowned, tearing up.
His mother hurried out of the motel toward her minivan. “Michael, I want you to turn on the 'no vacancy' sign while I'm gone. I've got Denise covering room service, so don't bother with any of the rooms.”
“I'm going with you,” he protested.
“Not now, Michael.”
“But I gotta see Asher!”
Dean responded before his mother could. “Hey, Michael. Hey. I know how you feel— I'm a big brother, too— but you gotta go easy on your mom right now, ok?”
His mom dropped her handbag in haste, cursing under her breath. You rushed to pick it up for her.
“Listen, you're in no condition to drive. Why don't you let me give you a lift to the hospital,” Dean offered.
“No, I couldn't possibly—” she answered.
“No, it's no trouble. I insist.”
Michael’s mother handed Dean the keys and thanked him before addressing her son. “Be good.”
Dean turned to you before he went over to the car. “We're gonna kill this thing. I want it dead, you hear me?”
You and Sam watched Dean pull out of the motel parking lot, driving much more carefully than he ever did when you and Sam were in the car.
“C’mon,” you said. “You got the keys?”
“Yeah,” he threw them to you. “Where we goin’?”
“Wait, you’re letting me drive?” you asked Sam.
He shrugged.
You squealed childishly and jumped into the driver’s seat. You couldn’t lie, you loved this car. You loved how the steering wheel felt in your hands and the way the engine rumbled.
“Seriously, where we going?”
“The library,” you answered. “Town records, national records, internet, anything and everything. Dean wants this thing dead, and I intend to get it done tonight. And I gotta tell you, dude, something’s really bothering me about this whole thing. I mean, I never even formally went to nursing school, but I knew it couldn’t be pneumonia immediately. Why would pediatric doctors be unable to figure that out?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I get you. Something isn’t right.”
***
You and Sam poured through as many books you possibly could as quickly as you could. Sam was at his computer, scrolling with a furrowed brow when his phone rang. “ Hey. How's the kid?... We’re at the library. We've been trying to find out as much as we can about this shtriga… Well, bad news. I started with Fort Douglas around the time you said Dad was there?... Same deal.
"Before that, there was, uh, Ogdenville, before that, North Haverbrook, and Brockway. Every 15 to 20 years, it hits a new town. Dean, this thing is just getting started in Fitzburgh. In all these other places, it goes on for months. Dozens of kids before the shtriga finally moves on. The kids just languish in comas, and then they die… Ah, I don't know. The earliest mention I could find is this place called ‘Black River Falls’ back in the 1890s. Talk about a horror show.”
Your brain began to make connections between all of those events. “Wait, Sam, put Dean on speaker.”
He did so.
“Okay, you’re gonna have to stay with me on this one. This could just be me spitballin’, but—”
“Just say it, (Y/N),” Dean said through the phone.
“I’ve been thinking, why wouldn’t Hydecker immediately rule out pneumonia? If he’s such a spectacular and caring doctor, why wouldn’t he know that pneumonia ups your white blood cell count; not depletes it? And the chance of all six kids having a pre-existing condition that lowers your WBC is incredibly low. I mean, why else wouldn’t he biopsy the kids?”
“Okay, WebMD, what does that have to do with anything?” Dean asked.
“I told you to stay with me.” You began typing in your computer searching for articles on the earliest case Sam had found in Black River Falls. “The point is, I think Hydecker’s our guy. Think about it— the center of the kidnappings is the hospital. And any pediatric doctor would be familiar with what pneumonia actually does to a kid’s body.” You smiled sourly at a photo you pulled up of doctors surrounding a child’s bed in 1893. You turned the computer around to Sam. “Boom.”
“(Y/N), that is huge.” He leaned over and lightly punched your shoulder. “Good going.”
“Thanks!” you grinned. “Dean, meet us back at the motel. Don’t deck the guy in the face, please. Not yet, anyway.”
“No promises,” he grumbled.
“Dean—”
“Fine.” He hung up the phone.
“Alright, we gotta get back before Dean explodes,” you told Sam. “Can I drive again?”
“Sure, why not. Just don’t tell my brother.” He tossed you the keys and you giggled.
***
“We should have thought of this before. A doctor's a perfect disguise. You're trusted, you can control the whole thing,” Sam said.
You and the brothers were back in the motel room.
Dean threw off his jacket and paced agitatedly. “That son of a bitch.”
“I'm proud of you for not drawing on him right there,” you said.
“Yeah, well, first of all, I'm not going to open fire in a freakin' pediatrics ward.”
Sam nodded. “Good call.”
“Second, wouldn't have done any good, because the bastard's bullet proof unless he's chowing down on something. And third, I wasn't packing, which is probably a really good thing, ‘cause I probably would've just burned a clip in him on principle alone.”
Despite the situation, you found Dean aggressively grumbling about guns very attractive.
“You're getting wise in your old age, Dean,” Sam quipped.
“Damn right. 'Cause now I know how we're going to get it,” replied Dean.
“What do you mean?” you asked.
“Shtriga works through siblings, right?”
You knew what he was getting at. “No, Dean, I don’t like that.”
“What?” Sam asked, clearly not picking up where you and Dean were at.
“(Y/N)—”
“No, dude, we gotta get Michael out of here. I’m not letting you use him as bait.”
“Dean, what?! That’s out of the question!” Sam protested.
“It's not out of the question, Sam, it's the only way. If this thing disappears it could be years before we get another chance.”
“Michael's a kid. And I'm not going to dangle him in front of that thing like a worm on a hook,” Sam scoffed.
“Dad did not send me here to walk away.” Dean turned away from you and Sam and gripped the edges of the dresser.
“Send you here? He didn't send you here; he sent us here,” Sam replied.
“This isn't about you, Sam. I'm the one who screwed up, all right. It's my fault. There's no telling how many kids have gotten hurt because of me.”
“What are you saying, Dean? How is it your fault?” Sam paused, taking a moment to calm down. “Dean. You've been hiding something from the get-go. Since when does Dad bail on a hunt? Since when does he let something get away? Now talk to me, man. Tell me what's going on.”
Dean proceeded to explain what he had to you last night. Sam gave him the same lecture about how it wasn’t his fault, but Dean began to protest again. “Don't. Don't. Dad knew this was unfinished business for me. He sent me here to finish it.”
You were surprised at the tough facade he gave his brother in contrast to the way he was vulnerable with you.
“But using Michael— I don't know Dean. I mean, how 'bout one of us hides under the covers, you know, we'll be the bait,” Sam tried.
“No, it won't work. It's gotta get close enough to feed— it'll see us. Believe me, I don't like it, but it's gotta be the kid.”
***
Michael was completely against the idea and even threatened to call the cops on you. You and the boys returned to their motel room dejectedly.
“Well, that went crappy. Now what?” Dean groaned.
“What did you expect? You can't ask an adult to do something like that, much less a kid,” the younger brother sighed.
There was a knock at the door, and you opened it to reveal Michael.
“Hey,” you said, surprised.
“If you kill it, will Asher get better?”
“Honestly? We don't know,” Dean told him.
“You said you were a big brother,” Michael started, “You'd take care of your little brother? You'd do anything for him?”
“Yeah, I would,” Dean replied quietly. Your heart swelled at how much Dean and Sam cared for each other.
The young boy nodded. “Me, too. I'll help.”
Dean had hooked up a security camera to the boy’s room, and you and he watched the monitor closely. You were beginning to feel cross-eyed from how tired you were. It was around three in the morning, and your body protested against your will to stay awake.
“You sure these iron rounds are gonna work?” Sam asked his brother.
“Consecrated iron rounds, and yeah, it's what Dad used last time.”
“Hey, Dean? I’m sorry,” the younger brother said softly. “You know, I've really given you a lot of crap, for always following Dad's orders. But I know why you do it.”
“Oh, god, kill me now,” Dean groaned.
You giggled to yourself, eyes returning to the screen. “Dean, look.”
There was a bit of movement off to the right of the screen outside of the window. You and the boys picked up your guns, holding them tightly and waiting for the right moment.
“Now?” you asked.
“Not yet.”
The shtriga moved closer and leaned over the bed. You could see Michael tense under the covers and draw them closer to himself. The creature leaned over the bed, pushing the covers down.
“Now?!”
“Now.”
You and the boys burst through the door and began to shoot the creature after Michael rolled away. It flew off Michael’s bed and fell to the side you couldn’t see.
“Mike, you alright?” Dean asked the kid.
“Yeah,” came his muffled reply from under the bed.
“Just sit tight.” Dean approached the shtriga, his gun at the ready. There was no movement for just a moment, before the shtriga shot up and grabbed Dean by his throat, throwing him across the room.
“Dean!” you cried, trying to run to him. The shtriga threw you to the side against Michael’s bed. Your back protested as you tried to roll and grab your gun that had fallen out of your hand in the chaos. You noticed the shtriga leaning over the top of the younger Winchester. Sam’s body went limp and began to go gray as the shtriga began to suck out his life force.
“Hey!” Dean gruffly spat. The shtriga turned to the older brother just to get shot straight between the eyes.
“Nice!” you said. You rushed to Sam’s side and smoothed a hand over his messy hair while he tried to catch his breath. “Are you okay?”
He nodded. “Thanks.”
“You okay, little brother?” Dean called from behind you. You thought it was adorable how much he cared.
You and Sam stood and you tried to help hold the tall man up on his unsteady legs. You guided him over to the shtriga, and Dean shot it three times at point-blank range. The shtriga’s body fell in on itself, disintegrating.
You looked up at Dean, whose face was still set in hard lines.
“It's okay, Michael, you can come on out,” Dean told the boy peeking out from under his bed. He rose to stand beside you, smiling tentatively. Dean put a hand on the boy’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. You looked on, feeling your heart swell at what you knew was a full-circle moment for Dean. You knew these moments were few and far-between in a profession like yours, and you had learned to savor them in your memory.
***
You and the brothers returned to your rooms to pack now that the monster was dead. As usual, you were finished packing before the boys were and leaned against the Impala waiting for them.
You watched Michael’s mom’s car pull up in the motel parking lot. At that moment, the boys came out to join you.
“Hey, Joanna. How's Asher doing?” Dean asked the mother of the two boys.
“Have you seen Michael?” she asked him.
“Mom! Mom!” the child in question ran up and hugged him. “How's Ash?”
“Got some good news. Your brother's gonna be fine,” she smiled down at the boy.
“Really?” Michael grinned.
“Yeah. Really. No one can explain it; it's a miracle. They're going to keep him overnight for observation, and then, he's coming home.”
You smiled as Sam asked, “How are all the other kids doing?”
“Good. Real good. A bunch of them should be checking out in a few days. Dr. Travis says the ward's going to be like a ghost town,” she explained.
“Dr. Travis? What about Dr. Hydecker?” you asked.
“Oh, he wasn't in today. Must have been sick or something.”
You shot a knowing look to the boys.
“So, did anything happen while I was gone?” Joanna asked her son.
The boy looked to Dean before responding, “Nah, same old stuff.”
“Okay.” Joanna smoothed a hand over Michael’s blonde hair. “You can go see Ash.”
A wide grin spread across the boy’s face. “Now?!”
She nodded at her son, who ran into the car. “I, ah, I'd better get going before he hotwires the car and drives himself,” she told you and the boys. The three of you watched as Joanna’s car pulled out of the parking lot. Sam and Dean turned to you and placed their bags in the trunk next to yours.
“It's too bad,” said Sam.
“Oh, they’ll be fine,” you assured him.
“That's not what I meant,” he shook his head. “I meant Michael. He'll always know there are things out there in the dark— he'll never be the same, you know?” He paused. “Sometimes I wish that....”
“What?” Dean questioned.
“I wish I could have that kinda innocence.”
Dean walked to the driver’s side door. He leaned on the roof of the car and said, “If it means anything, sometimes I wish you could too.”
Series Rewrite Taglist: @polireader @brightlilith @atcamillanorrman @jrizzelle @insomnia-bookworm @procrastination20 @mrs-liebgott @djs8891 @tiggytaylor @staple-your-mouth @iloveshawn @jesstherebel @rach5ive @strawberrykiwisdogog @bruhidkjustwannaread @mxltifxnd0m @sunshine-on-marz @big-ol-boat @mgchaser @capncrankle @davina-clairee @chervbs @simpingdeadcharacters @nesnejwritings @stillhere197 @stephshaww @tearsforhan @take-it-on-the-run @iloveyou2mia @maxinehufflepuffprincess @ohgeehowdigethere @here-for-the-extravaganza @seninjakitey @berarenado @s0urw00lf @princessleahorgana @quarterhorse19 @rei0812 @isla-finke-blog @silverdoragon @karacaroldanvers @gayandfairycore @examishbookwyrm @more-espresso-less-depresso-og @mysticmyth @favoritefandoms27 @star-yawnznn
hi hi! quite a few tags were broken :( please let me know if i've misspelled your tag! make sure you have notifs for my blog on so you don't miss an update!
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural series rewrite#spn series rewrite
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My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys 🤍
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader (Y/N)
Summary: Dean has been struggling since he got the mark of Cain.. He gets very vulnerable and you let him take advantage of you, in the best way of course!
Inspired song: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys by Taylor Swift
Warnings: Depressive and obsessive thoughts, SMUT (p in v, oral, wrap it up kids), Mark of Cain Dean behavior, mature and sexual language.
Reader (Y/N)’s P.O.V.
Ever since Dean got the mark of Cain he has been struggling a lot. I’ve tried to help him in any way I can but he won’t let me. But it’s not just me he has been shutting out, it's also Sam, Cass and even Bobby. He just sits in his room with the door locked. Loud rock music was drowning out his screams, and there was pounding against the walls. I felt so much pain for him… when Dean and I started dating, we have been emotionally connected to each other. When he hurts, I hurt and I wish there was a way to take his pain away.
Dean’s P.O.V.
Oh, here we go again
The voices in his head
Called the rain to end our days of wild
The sickest army doll
Purchased at the mall
Rivulets descend my plastic smile
(Inner Monologue)
I can’t do this anymore….
I can’t do this anymore….
You did this to yourself
You let everyone down
Reader (Y/N)’s P.O.V.
I carefully walked up to Dean’s bedroom door, I couldn’t hear any screams, just the loud music roaring through the walls.
*Knock Knock*
“Dean….?” I said softly. “I know you’re still in there. You keep pushing me away and you can’t do that.” I sighed deeply. I didn’t know how much would get through to him but it was worth a try. “It’s not just me you are hurting, it’s also Sam…he’s so worried about you and Cass is too! You need to let us help you….please Dean!”
The music stopped playing and I heard footsteps coming towards the door. Dean opened the door and he had a scowl expression on his face. I knew it was the mark taking over him, I was scared but I couldn’t let it show.
“You!” He roared at me.
“Yes, it’s me.” I said softly.
“What do you want?”, he said while walking away from me.
“Dean, I came in here to talk to you.” I walked after him and shut the door.
He sat down on his bed and faced away from me.
“I don’t wanna talk, I wanna be alone! I’m too dangerous to be around right now, don’t you get that. One little slip and I could hurt you, or Sam, or even Cass!”
“I don’t care Dean!” I shouted back at him, at this point I wasn’t afraid of him. I knew deep down my Dean was still there, just waiting to come out. I walked over to sit on the bed next to him. I put my hand on top of his, while looking at the mark on his opposite arm. “I know this mark doesn’t reflect who you are! There’s still some part of you that’s inside. You are still you….”
He looked up at me with tears in his eyes, full of anger.
“No, I'm not Y/N. This mark has made me into a monster.”
“I don’t believe that for one damn second Dean. I’m not afraid of you.”
“Well you should be.” He said, his eyes turned dark all of a sudden as he looked at me. But he was looking at me in the way that he wanted me.
I was just staring at him asking if he was okay.
“No I'm not,” he said loudly. I was really scared but also turned on because I knew he wanted me and I wanted him. He stood us both up, grabbed me by my arms, pushed me up against the wall and began kissing me passionately. I didn’t know what to think, part of me knew this was Dean but I knew the mark got him good.. but honestly I’ve been craving this for such a long time so I went with it.
As I started to grab him, “No, I’m doing all of the work baby lay down.” he said strongly.
I began to lay down facing him as he was kissing on my inner thighs, he slowly started to pull down my panties with his teeth and told me to stay still otherwise he would spank me. I was so excited, and that excitement showed when he started to eat me out. His mouth was dripping with cum and spit. I grabbed his head to push him further into my pussy, I could feel his tongue swirling around in places and hearing him groan as soon as I moaned made me feel so good. I knew I had to be a good girl and wait for the rest to happen.
“Oh fuck Dean” I said loudly.
He looked up at me and smiled “Oh this isn’t it baby, I’m just getting started.”
He got up and unzipped his pants and slowly started to insert his dick inside of me. I didn’t know what to expect because it’s been so long and we both moaned in each other's mouths. Dean was going in and out , thrusting his way inside of me.
“You’re mine baby girl, no one else's got that!”
“Yes Dean, I’m all yours. I’m yours to break, destroy whatever you want with me. Take advantage of me, please take your anger out on me.”
“I need you so much.” He said in a husky voice.
My boy only breaks his favorite toys, toys, oh
I’m queen of sand castles he destroys, oh, oh
'Cause it fit too right, puzzle pieces in the dead of night
I should've known it was a matter of time
“I’m going to cum already,” I said, staring into his eyes.
At that moment the real Dean came out, he was so happy and excited that we were making love. He ended up flipping me on my stomach, spanking my ass, licking and biting it all while he stuck his dick in my pussy. The sounds were so wet and my pussy was so sensitive rubbing on his dick. Dean was going faster and faster and he grabbed my arms and held them behind my back and I felt a warm liquid sensation dripping down my ass. “Wow, that was great,” he said. He told me to lay there so he could look at my beautiful naked body for a few more minutes.
I was just so happy that I got to enjoy “My Dean” so I was happy to do whatever for him. Once he told me that I could clean up and get dressed. He looked into my eyes and said "You're just so damn beautiful.” And he walked out the door.
Authors Note:
I’m so sorry I’ve been so inactive! Life has been very busy lately, I promise to start posting more stories!
Hope you enjoyed this story!
Feel free to let me know what you think!
Like & follow for more !! Xoxo
Want to read more? Check out my other stories!
Master list 📝
#supernatural#dean winchester#jensen ackles#supernatural family#supernatural fandom#supernatural fan account#fanfiction#deanedit#supernatural edits#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester x ofc#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#dean x reader#dean x female!reader#dean x you#dean x y/n#taylor swift#the tortured poets department#my boy only breaks his favourite toys#song#lyrics#18+ content#18+ only#dean winchester x you#18+ blog#18+ account#dean winchester reader insert
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pov: your camera roll if you were little winchester sister
#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#jared padalecki#jensen ackles#spn#castiel#sam winchester spn#sam winchester x you#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#sam winchester au
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Too Many Beds
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: you want nothing more than an excuse to sleep next to dean again
pairing: (pre-s1/s1) dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language
word count: 2.1k
warnings: none really, language, bed sharing, kissing, mutual pining, idiots in love, brief mention of the death of reader’s dad
timeline: starts slightly before season one, ends near the beginning of season one
author’s note: a spin on the classic 'just one bed, what ever shall we do?' trope lol
You’d known Dean all your life, practically. You met him when you were six and he was eight; two lonely little kids stuck with absent (job-driven) fathers and baby brothers you felt responsible for. Over the course of the last eighteen-or-so years you ran into the Winchesters during hunts enough that you considered them family.
When Sam left for college you were there for Dean and when you lost your dad in a hunting accident Dean was there for you. He actually stayed with you, not wanting you to hunt alone since your brother was off at college too.
So, for the last six months you’d been hunting with Dean (who hadn’t spoken to Sam for over a year).
“One room, two queens,” Dean said to the woman behind the counter, placing “his” credit card on the space between them before sliding it toward her.
“We’re all booked up I’m afraid,” she said.
“Seriously?”
“Yeah, I was actually about to turn on the no vacancy sign.”
“This is the third motel we’ve been to,” you said, “every one of them has been full—you’ve gotta have something!”
“I mean, there’s technically one room left but the heater’s out and my boss said not to let anyone sleep there because of that.”
There was a silent pause; you and Dean shared a knowing look.
“We’ll pay in cash, your boss ‘ll never know,” you told the woman. She smiled and nodded as you paid her with cash.
“Room 209, my boss gets here at ten tomorrow morning so please leave before then.” She handed you the key and you nodded in thanks.
You had underestimated just how cold the room could be, but when you unlocked and opened the door you understood why the owner didn’t want anyone staying here.
“Son of a bitch,” Dean mumbled, following you into the room and feeling the cold air. “We’re gonna freeze our asses off in here!” he quickly closed the door behind him, hoping the icy air hadn’t swept any snow into the room.
“It’s either this or we sleep in the Impala,” you shrugged, “and, no offense to your car, but it’s fuckin’ uncomfortable to sleep in.”
“And there’s only one bed,” Dean sighed.
“I’m gonna take a quick shower,” you told him, ignoring his complaints.
**
“Are you shivering or crying?” Dean asked.
You rolled over so you could meet his stare; “Shivering! It’s fuckin’ cold in here!”
“You wanna…cuddle up, maybe?” he asked hesitantly.
“Excuse me?” you laughed a little.
“Look, I’m not thrilled about it either, but it’s cold in here and unless we both wanna catch fucking pneumonia we better be smart and share body heat.”
You sighed, weighing your options; “Fine. But we never, and I mean never speak of this again, you hear me?”
“Understood.” He nodded.
You rolled back over as he scooted closer to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, pulling you into his chest.
“This okay?” he asked quietly, his lips ghosting the back of your head.
“Yeah,” you mumbled back. “Thank you, Dean.”
**
You woke up to the sound of Dean snoring loudly. You were used to his snores, sure, but he’d never been this close. He was laying on his stomach and resting on your chest; his mouth open and his hair tickling your neck. Your first reaction was annoyance but then it quickly washed away as you realized you didn’t want to move a muscle, so Dean could continue sleeping.
And the more you laid there, listening to his snores, the more you realized how comfortable you were…even in such a physically uncomfortable situation.
As the time passed and the sun began to rise, you cursed the light that was slowly but surely peeking through the curtain and onto Dean’s face.
“Morning,” he mumbled to you as he lifted his head up. He rubbed his eyes with the back of his right hand before wiping his mouth. “Sorry,” he chuckled, noticing the small spot on your gray sweater dampened with his drool.
“It’s okay,” you mumbled back. “I think it’s your sweater anyway.”
“I thought it looked familiar.”
He rolled off of you and out of bed.
You watched as he padded across the dirty carpet and over to the small kitchen. He turned on the coffee maker and the loud, off putting grinding noise made his face scrunch before he quickly shut off the (definitely broken) machine.
“So much for coffee,” he grumbled. “You gonna sit there all morning or you wanna get outta here? We’ve got a long drive ahead of us.”
“I’m getting up,” you replied. You would usually be annoyed at him for rushing you to wake up, but this time the annoyance was…different. Something about his bedhead, the way his lips were pouting over the lack of caffeine, and how he looked in his brown Henley and baggy sweats just made you wanna hold him again. All you wanted was to pull him back into bed with you and hold him in your arms forever.
**
You were beyond frustrated at this point. How many stupid fucking hotels had to have vacant rooms with two beds and a functional heating system!?
It had been nearly six months since you and Dean shared a bed and you had been looking for an excuse to sleep next to him ever since.
But the last couple weeks had been different—Sammy was back. Yes, you loved Sam like a brother, but you missed getting to be alone with Dean. You missed sitting shotgun in the Impala and watching him drive.
Sam definitely noticed the way you looked at Dean, but the younger Winchester didn’t say a word. Without being too obvious about it, he tried to do little things that would let you be close to his brother. He’d sit in a certain chair or part of the couch so that you and Dean had no choice but to sit together. Or he’d make some lame excuse so that he got his own room while you and Dean had to share. “I need to do some more research and I need the light, why don’t you two just sleep in the other room?” for example.
**
“Two rooms, please,” Dean said, reaching into his coat pocket for his wallet.
“Unfortunately we’ve only got one room left,” the cashier replied.
You almost couldn’t believe your ears, fucking finally!
“Oh, that’s too bad,” you faked your best frustrated look, of course Sam saw right through that.
“Well, I am not sharing with either or you,” he said with a teasing smile.
“There’s actually a pullout couch in that room, as luck would have it,” the cashier informed the three of you.
God fucking damn it, you thought to yourself.
**
It was barely after two when you felt the bed behind you dip, and you shook yourself awake.
“The hell?” you asked, still half asleep.
“The pullout couch isn’t working,” Dean mumbled quietly. “You mind sharing with me?”
You smiled a little and scooted closer into his arms, indicating you were okay with him sleeping next to you.
“Of course I don’t mind sharing with you,” you whispered and his grip tightened.
**
“I’m gonna go get breakfast,” Sam announced. “I’m assuming you want your usual?”
Dean put his right pointer finger to his lips and furrowed his brows angrily. He gestured to you as you slept and Sam got the message.
“Usual is good,” Dean whispered before Sam left.
Dean stayed laying perfectly still as you slept on his chest, soft snores escaping your lips and to Dean they were the sweetest sound.
As you stirred awake slowly, he rubbed your back a little.
“Morning,” you mumbled, a small smile on your lips. “Where’s Sam?”
“He went to grab breakfast,” Dean told you.
You furrowed your brows as you sat up, looked across the room, and realized something; “The pullout bed looks fine? I thought you said it wasn’t working?” You turned back to Dean, who had a sheepish grin growing on his lips.
“So…maybe I’ve just been looking for an excuse to sleep next to you again. Like we did back in that motel when the heat was out.”
“Really?” You attempted to hide the smile trying to find its way onto your face.
“When we were checking in last night I noticed how your face lit up when they said there was only one room left,” Dean admitted. “And I saw that disappointed look you made when they said there was a pullout couch. So, am I wrong, or have you been wanting an excuse too?”
“I really liked sleeping next to you that night,” you said, avoiding eye contact. “And you’re right, I have been hoping for another ‘oh no just one bed, guess we’ll have to share’ situation but…”
“But what?” Dean asked when you trailed off. You looked down at him.
“Dean, you and Sam have been like my brothers for as long as I can remember. I mean, Bobby practically raised all three of us and my actual brother as siblings! Your dad and my dad knew each other basically forever and I guess…I guess I figured our lives are too entangled for anything to ever actually happen between us. We’re family.”
“Chosen family, Y/n.” Dean smiled softly. “Doesn’t mean you have to be my chosen sister, you could be my chosen…you know…”
You leaned down and placed a soft kiss on his full lips.
“That,” Dean finished his previous statement.
“Let’s just keep this between us for now, okay?” you suggested. “If Sam finds out, then your dad will find out, and he’ll immediately tell my brother, then before we know it Bobby—”
“I get the picture, sweetheart,” Dean chuckled before kissing you again. He put his hands on your cheeks as he sat up. He pulled you onto his lap, your legs now straddling his hips. His hands moved to your shoulders then trailed down to your lower back as yours went into his hair. You pulled away from him after a moment, huge smiles on both your faces.
You looked into his eyes, his truly beautiful eyes, and you bit your bottom lip ever so slightly. Your right hand rested on his left cheek, your thumb stroking his skin lovingly.
“You’re awesome, Dean Winchester,” you whispered.
“You’re fuckin’ incredible,” he replied before he kissed you again. “And gorgeous, too,” he added. “You know how fuckin’ annoying it’s been, sleeping without you every night since that one time?”
“I do know, Dean, I’ve been just as annoyed about it.”
Dean kissed you one more time before he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace, tucking his head into your neck. You wrapped your arms around him too, pressing your lips to his temple.
You pulled out of the hug so you could once again look at his face. Resting your forehead on his, you smiled before you kissed him again.
“Breakfast,” Sam called out as he opened the door, “is served!”
You and Dean froze for a split second before you hurried off of him.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, “did I interrupt you two?”
“What?” you scoffed. “Of course not!”
“Interrupt? There’s nothing to interrupt?” Dean added.
“Oh…wow you two are fast,” Sam mumbled, shaking his head as he made his way to the kitchen before putting the food down. “Well, pancakes, eggs, and bacon from the continental breakfast.” He gestured to the food now on the table. “Hope you’re hungry.”
As Sam sat down to eat, you looked at Dean anxiously. Say something you begged him with your eyes.
“Sammy,” Dean started as he got out of bed, “would you mind uh…not telling dad? About me and Y/n…kissing just now? When we find him, I mean.”
“Dad’s never really been invested in your love life, but he’s not an idiot,” Sam laughed.
“So…you are gonna tell him?” Dean furrowed his brows in frustration.
“Dean, he knows you two are together, it’s not some big secret?” Sam replied, shoveling more food into his mouth. “Damn that’s good.”
“Okay, just hold on—what?” Dean asked. “What do you mean dad knows? There’s been nothing to know since like four minutes ago?”
“Wait,” Sam stopped eating and fully turned to face you and his brother, “are you trying to tell me this is the first time you two have kissed?” Sam furrowed his brows deeply as you and Dean both nodded. “So…never in high school?” You shook your heads again. “That prom we crashed?”
“Sam you were there the whole time? When would we have kissed?” you asked.
“Huh,” Sam let out a laugh. “I genuinely thought you two had been a thing since like… ‘98.”
“What!?” you and Dean exclaimed in unison.
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester comfort#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester#sam winchester#supernatural#spn#supernatural fic#supernatural fluff#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#dean x reader#by mind empty just fictional people#by jean
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Roadhouse
Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Warnings: +18 contains smut
Summary: You have had feelings for Dean Winchester for a while and never thought you guys would be more than friends but on a case Dean's jealousy gets the best of him and the truth comes out.
You set your takeout box on the desk and sigh, putting a hand to your head to rub between your eyebrows looking for some kind of stress relief. Detective Bass eyes you and sets his takeout box on the table separating the two of you and leans in, setting one of his hands on the table. His gaze is intense and it puzzles you further.
“We will figure this out” he finally says
He was partially correct, he just had the wrong “We”. You and Dean would figure this out, you had been on this case for two days now and still hadn't pinpointed what exactly was attacking the women in this town. You were utterly exhausted, this cheap pencil skirt keeps riding up, the fluorescent lighting is giving you a headache, and the autopsy results are starting to blur.
“Hey you want to turn in” he says, reaching around the table to rest his hand on your thigh. Don't get it twisted, Detectives Bass’s sharp features, dark hair, and lean build could make any woman's head turn however you have had a certain hunter on your mind and had for a while now. As if on cue you hear a familiar voice say
“Hope i'm not interrupting” Bass’s hand flinches back as Dean stands in the doorway with his hands in his pockets.
He tensely walks forwards and takes a seat on your side of the table. Straightening his suit out as he does. He sends a look laced with daggers into your profile and you tense. You know he's as annoyed about this case as you were and try to let it go.
“You're not, we were just finishing up actually” You reply. You stand up and start to gather the files on the table when you look over. Dean's eyes aren't on you but on the detective across the table, His jaw is locked and his hand is clenched in a fist so hard that his knuckles are turning white. You turn your attention back to the papers and then look up and make direct eye contact with the detective. He was looking directly at you with his hand running over his bottom lip and chin, if you didn't know better you'd say that was lust in his eyes.
“Well it's been a pleasure working with you tonight Agent Seager…” he says referring to you, “... it's just been wonderful” He reaches a hand out intended for you to take, and you do. You shake his hand and he looks so deeply into your eyes, he might be able to see through you.
The silence is interrupted by Dean clearing his throat and standing and reaching his hand out to shake the detective's “Pleasures all mine” their hand meets and the tension is palpable. Dean is intense right now and it makes Bass shift on his feet. Your confusion was probably written on your face. Dean drops his hand but not his gaze and you put your hand on his upper arm to break the match. Dean looks at you annoyed, rolls his eyes and starts making his way towards the door with you following behind. You try to match his pace as you two hastily head toward the exit.
The big exit doors open and as soon as they do Dean turns back and without saying anything grabs your hand and starts literally walking you to the car. You're struggling to keep his pace and your mind is racing at his touch, but also his demeanor and why it is the way it is. You both come upon the car. You open the door and get in and slam it behind you, fueled by Dean's attitude. He does the same and you finally cut the tension as the engine roars to life and he pulls out of the parking lot.
“What is your issue?” You say snarkily
He says nothing and stares at the road ahead, tightening his grip on the steering wheel.
“Whatever” you say after realizing from the length of his silence that he had no intention of answering your question. You sit and contemplate what you could've done to annoy him so much and anticipate seeing the motel come into vision. But it doesn't. A run down roadhouse does. Probably even the gnarliest bikers wouldn't even touch this place yet, here we are. You snap your head in his direction the second he parks and say
“What in the actual hell are we doing here?” He rolls his eyes and looks over in your direction in one swift motion. He looks down your entire body and back up again to meet your eyes. This isn't unusual. You have caught him doing it before but never so blatantly and certainly not while harboring such annoyance for you, or what you thought was annoyance. You had always wondered if it meant anything to Dean the way you hoped it had.
It was hard to care that he was annoyed with you when he looks as stunning as he does. His tie is now loose, his jaw is sharp, his hair is slightly tousled from running hand through it occasionally on the drive to the roadhouse. It was possible you were also giving him a subconscious once over and he must have noticed. He smirks and his eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes.
“I'll forget you let Detective Bass have the pleasure of undressing you with his eyes if you join me for a drink” he says still smirking and with a bluntness that stirs something inside of you but you're quick to retort
“I didn-”
“Yes or no..” he says interrupting and without breaking eye contact, still smirking.
Your mind is racing with all the possibilities right now, swimming with all the endless ways this night could unfold. All you can say is
“Yes” with that he grins a jackpot smile and opens his door to get out you're too stunned to move when your door opening breaks you from your thoughts. You turn and see Dean's hand stretched out for you to take. You follow your eyes up and meet his green ones and they're a shade that you've never noticed before with an apparent sparkle. You take his hand and allow him to lift you out of the seat of the impala. He shuts the door behind and you and you take one last glance at each other before you both head hand in hand into the rundown roadhouse.
He opens the door for you and and you're confronted with a loudly playing “Night Moves’ by Bob Seager, rainbow strobe lights and the smell of cheap beer and cigarettes. You look over at Dean with a look that says really? and he says
“Oh cmon, give it a chance” and with that he takes his hand that was previously holding yours and grabs your waist and pulls you to him. You're tucked firmly into his side and he walks the both of you over to the bar and orders a beer, a shot of whiskey for himself and a tequila cran for you. Your favorite, he noticed.
The first round comes and goes and so does a second and half of the third before you need a bathroom. You wait for Dean to finish a genuinely engaging story, all of them have been you love just talking and getting to know him without the thought of the world's doom on your shoulders. Right now it feels like only you two matter and every word that spills from his beautiful lips fuels this. You say you'll be right back and he smiles as you silently slightly struggle to lift yourself off the seat, It felt like you had been on for way too long.
You make your way to the bathroom and open it up and find it's not as gross as you were expecting. Shocked and pleased, you head to the sink and look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is slightly disheveled from running your hands through it while talking with Dean, your dress shirt had opened an extra button and your skirt was becoming a little too short. You looked kinda hot in a messy sort of way but you decided to straighten yourself out and splash some water on your face to hopefully offset the alcohol coursing through your system at the moment.
You rest your hands on either side of the sink and try to compose yourself with use of your reflection when the door you thought you locked behind you opens and shuts. You quickly turn around to face the intruder and are met with Dean. He's staring at you in a way that takes your breath away and urge to curse him out for barging in. He looks at you the way you've always wanted him to look at you. He’s breathless himself when he slowly reaches his hand behind him to turn the lock on the door.
His eyes don't leave yours. He takes a few steps forward until you can feel each other's breath fanning over each other's cheeks. You can't think of anything else other than the hue of his green eyes, the few freckles he has, and how kissable his lips look.
“You drive me crazy… and you have for a while now” he says as he lifts his hand to brush some hair from the sides of your face.
“What-” you say, feeling like you're gasping for air.
“I can't see you with anyone else… ever'' there's a brief silence and then he tilts his head and whispers against your neck “i adore you… you have no idea what you do to me..” his hands slowly and tenderly grasp your waist and you’re having trouble deciphering if this is actually happening or if that third tequila cran has you hallucinating on the sidewalk somewhere. All you know is his hands feel really real on your waist and his breath on your neck travels all the way down to where you want him most, that also feels very real.
“Say anything..please… I'll take anything right now…” He pulls back without taking his hands away from your waist, thankfully, the feeling is electrifying. His face has a tinge of worry of doubt and you can't stand it.
“I feel the same…” You say taking the sides of his face into your hands. You watch as the doubt is erased from his face and that jackpot Dean Winchester grin creeps its way onto his face once again.
“...I have for a while now” you say with your own grin. Proud of stealing his line and finally admitting your feelings to the man you adore. He leans in, sealing your lips and in this moment it feels fate. His hands move from your waist to the sides of your face as if he can't possibly get enough of you. The kiss is passionate, tender, everything you both ever wanted. Your hands ignite wildfires across each other's bodies as you explore and feel what you had both wanted more than anything for a long time now.
He places his hands on the sink behind you, caging you in and breaks the kiss to look down and steady himself. He feels ravenous right now and it's taking everything in him to not rip your clothes off and take you right here. You're not making it any easier as that is exactly what you want right now, it's exactly what you need. He looks up with his mesmerizing green eyes and says
“You have no idea how bad I want you right now...”
“Nothings stopping you...” you say in a whisper hovered against his lips while you regather the sides of his face into your hands. He kisses you again but this time with no sign of an end or hesitation. You pull his tie with both hands until it's undone and throw it to the floor. The kiss is feverish and intense. You love the feeling of him and he feels the same.
You start to undo the many buttons on his dress shirt and he starts to do the same to you almost as if in a race. You fling it off his shoulders and pull it down his strong arms. You help him slide yours down your shoulders and sneak a quick glance as it falls to the floor. You're both panting, desperate for air but even more desperate for each other. He carefully moves his hand over your breasts through your bra and just like that you're a moaning mess.
“I want to see you… all of you” he says as he puts his hands back to your waist and turns you so you're facing the mirror. He unclasps your bra while standing behind you and slides the straps off your shoulders and as you watch as it falls off your frame onto the floor. He's kissing your neck and has his hand on the other side. His free hand is trailing its way from your nipple, to your stomach, to the ends of your now very ridden up pencil skirt.
He pulls it up all the way to your stomach and starts rubbing you through your panties. Soft circles to match the soft wet kisses all over your neck, the other hand moves down your chest and cups your breast and massages. His touch is euphoric and all you want is him. You can feel that all he wants is you from his hardness pressed onto your backside.
“You'll never want another man after what I'm going to do to you… I can promise you that sweetheart…” he whispers against your neck, while continuing to place soft hypnotic kisses, and rub circles over your clothed clit. You can see yourself unraveling through what glimpses you can catch in the mirror. You're rested against his toned chest with your head thrown back and eyes screwed shut moaning and gasping out Dean's name. He has just found his new favorite song.
When he pulls away, you snap your head to look in the mirror just to catch his devious eyes before he turns you once again to face him. He leans down and simultaneously reconnects your lips and lifts you so you're resting on the edge of the sink. His hands are on your thighs and he's standing between them. You guys are kissing all over each other. It's heavenly. You're both grinding against each other and you start to undo his pants and tug them down. He helps and pulls them the rest of the way down.
He's already hard and he's big. Bigger than you'd ever had. You take him into your hands and start pumping him eliciting a string of moans and grunts that only fuels you more. He’s wanted this for so long and it was about to happen. He takes himself from you and looks at you with a question, are you sure? You nod wanting nothing more. He smiles and kisses you again. He hooks a single finger around your panties and moves them to the side. He slides himself along your slick folds, relishing the feeling.
He slightly pushes the tip in and moves in and out slowly giving you time to adjust. He's panting and gasping at the tightness. You're grasping at his shoulders and loving the sensation. He pushes in further and you're singing his name in praise. He starts to move and then moves feverishly. You both have wanted this for so long you can't get enough. Youre hand are running everywhere over eachothers bodies and hes holding you in his strong arms as he fucks you. You can feel yourself unraveling and judging by the slight sloppiness of his thrusts, he's almost there as well. You tighten around him and cum which seems to set him over the edge and the next thing you feel is him spilling out of you.
You're both a mess and simultaneously rest your heads on each other's shoulders trying to catch your breath.
“That was-”
“Amazing” he cuts you off and picks himself off your shoulder still breathless and gives you a quick kiss. Neither of you move, unsure if you ever wanted to leave this bathroom, this moment. You just stay in eachothers eyes for a bit.
“We should get going” you say with a smile crossing your arms around his neck
“So eager for round two?” he replies with that signature smirk grabbing your waist and pulling you off the sink to stand. He holds you there.
“If that's what it takes to get us out of this place faster than absolutely” you say with a laugh and it earns one from him as well. You both redress yourselves, helping each other along the way. You’re both smiling and giddy and it's just comfortable.
You both go to walk hand and hand out of the roadhouse bathroom and as soon as the door opens you're both greeted with an embarrassingly long line of skeevy bar patrons, all shooting daggered stares you and Dean's way.
“Worth it” he says while looking at you, dare you say lovingly.
#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#supernatural#supernatural headcanon#supernatural imagine#dean winchester headcannons#dean winchester moodboard#dean x reader#dean x you#dean winchester x you#dean winchester one shot#dean#dean winchester smut#dean winchester headcanon#dean winchester x female!reader
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Whiskey on the Tongue
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: You are the forbidden fruit Dean had always wanted to taste, and when you steal his whiskey the way you do, he is powerless to resist.
Words: 2.2k
A/N: This is my first ever Supernatural fic after having started watching the show just before Christmas. I know I'm late to the game but is it ever really too late to start loving a fandom? I've tried to make the reader generic in every way other than being cis-female, and Dean finding her hot.
It's been an absolute age since I wrote anything and probably longer since I posted anything here on Tumblr but I'm getting back into it now. Hopefully this finds its way to people in the Supernatural fandom who love a bit of Dean smut.
I hope you enjoy and, as always, I value your comments and feedback.
Warnings: Smut, explicit smut, alcohol consumption, mentions of people who have passed away, profanity as standard with pretty much everything I write.
*** Minors do not read or interact - 18+ content ***
Dean let his head fall back against the headboard, clenching his fists to try to distract himself from the deep ache in his left leg. It had been falling asleep for well over an hour now, but he didn’t want to move and disturb you.
The door to his room in the bunker was closed. Locked, in fact, though he did not remember doing it. You didn’t comment or so much as move when Sam brayed on the door and tried the handle, calling out for Dean to return his book. The very book that was in your hands right now.
“I need that book back, Dean.” Sam grumbled.
“Not now, Sammy!” Dean called back, hoping his little brother would just go away.
“I’m researching Nephilim to help Cas with the Kelly situation, Dean. It’s important.” Sam became more insistent.
“I said NOT NOW, SAM!” Dean hollered with a kind of finality that even Sam wouldn’t argue with.
Outside the door, Sam huffed and stalked away. Dean looked down to see you looking up at him from your position, lay on his bed. Your head was resting on his left calf, his leg bent with his foot tucked under his right knee. You had your knees up with your foot tapping along to his banging playlist, your jeans tight around your thighs and with your head tilted back he could see all the way down the deep V of your t-shirt.
He was going to hell. Straight there. Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. And he probably deserved it.
He snapped his eyes up towards the ceiling but it was too late, he could feel himself stirring uncomfortably in his jeans. If Bobby was alive he would have skinned him raw just for having you in his room. Bobby was always protective of you, his niece. You were only a couple of years younger than Sam but Bobby had made himself very clear that you were off limits.
“If you touch one single hair on her body, I’ll make you regret the day your balls dropped. Do you hear me, boy?”
Bobby Singer. That man did not mince his words. And to this day, Dean had taken that threat as gospel. Even now that Bobby was up there with the Angels, that son of a bitch would find a way to keep his word.
You shifted, causing a painful twang to shoot up his leg. The reflexive grunt he failed to stifle made you look back up at him, giving him that glorious view again.
Dean decided he could die like this. If having a dead leg was a legitimate threat to his life, he would go out happy with the view of your rack in that lacy black bra he could see within the V-shaped window of that too-tight t-shirt.
He raised his eyes, once again to heaven, asking Bobby to forgive him or give him strength or something because – god help him – he wanted to take you right then and there.
It wasn’t unusual for you to seek him out after a case when you didn’t want to be alone, but you didn’t want to talk. You would just sit while he drank, reading or working on spells. You said he quieted the noise in your head. Hell, he wasn’t going to argue, you were a sight for sore eyes every time he came home. You were wicked hot and sexy in a non-slutty way. Not that slutty was bad. Dean liked slutty. But that wasn’t you, you were different.
A drink. That’s what was missing. Dean needed a damn drink, especially if you were going to torture him by laying on him all evening.
He reached over to his bedside unit, for the bottle he kept in there for special occasions. A bottle of twenty-five-year-old Speyside single malt that he liberated from the British Men of Letters on his last interaction with Ketch.
The pour made you stir again but it wasn’t until he raised the cut crystal tumbler to his lips did you move. Your hand came up and claimed the glass from underneath, twisting it as you sat up so as not to spill any.
“Where’s yours?”
The cheeky glint in your eye had him pursing his lips in mild annoyance.
“Don’t pout.” You lifted the glass, turning it until the mark left by his lips touched yours and you sipped, looking him straight in the eye.
Dean’s jaw went slack. The glisten of the whiskey on your lips and the satisfied hum you made when you swallowed – he swallowed unconsciously when you did – made his mouth go dry. He had never seen you like this.
You moved to kneel on the bed and walked your way slowly closer, giving his leg a tap; an instruction to move it aside. He did, causing pins and needles to infest his nerves like ants swarming on a log to escape a flood.
Knelt between his spread legs, you brought the glass to your lips again, sipping at the amber liquid. You leaned in.
Dean watched you, breathing shallow, attention rapt. You hadn’t so much as touched him, yet every nerve in his body felt like it was on fire in the best possible way. The closer you got the shallower he breathed until he was almost holding his breath, looking down his nose at how close your lips were. His eyelashes looked to flutter against his cheeks just as yours did when you brushed your whiskey dappled lips against his.
He refused to lick where you had been. He couldn’t. As soon as he tasted, he would pounce, and…
“Don’t.” He croaked out when you moved to lay your lips on him once more.
You looked confused but at least you didn’t look hurt. He couldn’t bear it if you looked hurt because of him.
“Bobby…” Was all he could say through his constricting throat.
You smiled then, full of amusement, lips brushing against his, you whispered “he’ll understand.”
Dean tried not to respond to you but you coaxed his lips apart and teased your tongue to meet his, short circuiting his brain. The taste of the scotch and the sweetness of your mouth made him groan. He had fantasised about having you for years, but never did he think it would be you seducing him.
His hands on your hips guided you roughly to straddle him, the bulge in his jeans pushing up against you as you settled. He took the glass from your hands and downed the contents, his eyes on yours as he dropped the glass carelessly on the bedside unit.
Your lips met his again but this time you devoured each other, tongues stroking together, moans stifled by each other’s mouths. He trailed his hands up your body, dragging your t-shirt along with them. Finally, he could see what he had been having glimpses of this whole evening. Plush breasts cupped in scant lace that was completely impractical for a hunt, Dean realised, like you had meant to come here like this. You had intended this from the beginning.
He tore at the lace, dragging it under your breasts to free them, shoulder straps slipped down. Pawing at them like he had never touched a tittie before, all he wanted to do was suck and nip and nibble.
Your breathy sigh was divine, and the moan that followed was filthy. You cupped the back of his head as he took your nipple into his mouth and sucked hard, pressing him further, asking for more.
While he worked on your breasts you undid his belt and fly, reaching into the front of his shorts to release him from the awkward angle at which he was trapped. You stroked him, firm but slow, feeling him for the first time. You had always wondered what he had going on down there that every woman he had ever been with would come back for more at the drop of a hat. You weren’t disappointed.
Dean lifted his hips, you thought to allow you to push his jeans down but instead he flipped you, making you squeal. Once under him, he ravished your breasts anew, pinching one nipple hard while licking and sucking the other. Soon you were a mewling mess, hips writhing, begging for something he hadn’t given you yet. Excited that he had taken control away from you, you watched him sit up and yank your jeans down, lifting your legs until they were bare. Your knickers followed and he spread your legs without preamble, lowering himself between your thighs until his hair and eyes were all you could see above your mound.
“Jesus Christ of Nazareth!”
You groaned as he suckled against your sensitive spot. Fuck, he was good with his tongue. Everything about him was good except his image. Bad boy Dean Winchester. He was every woman’s wet dream. He had been your wet dream since you were seventeen. But now you were plenty old enough and finally getting what you wanted.
Bobby had told you to stay away from him when you were a kid. Dean had a reputation as a ladies man even then, but he respected your uncle Bobby enough to keep his distance… until now.
Dean dipped two fingers inside, creating pressure in exactly the right spot. You gasped and gripped his hair as your pleasure began to crest, tugging on it for dear life. He looked up at you then, to see your eyes closed against the intensity of it, neck and face flushed red with your oncoming orgasm. When it came, the pulsing of your core was his sign to slow down. He left off his suckling and stroked you through the pleasure, watching you all the while. You were a beautiful mess.
“That’s my girl.” He praised you in that deep rough tone you adored, helping prolong your climax until you took his hand away yourself. “Are you ready for me?”
You nodded, allowing him to lift your knees up and stroke the weeping tip of his cock over your swollen clit.
From the front pocket of the jeans he still wore, he pulled a foil packet with Trojan embossed on it. He was swift with its application, aiming his tip just so.
When he slid home, your eyes rolled back and you reached to grip his forearms. It was something Dean would never get tired of seeing but it felt that much different with you. You were the forbidden thing he had always wanted but could never have. Even now he didn’t know whether he would come to regret this. God, he hoped not.
Balls deep in you, he leaned forward to kiss you, wrapping your legs around his hips. His instinct was to fold you in half and pound the living shit out of you, but you were already overwhelmed and he wanted to make this soft for you.
“Tell me what you need.” He spoke softly as he nuzzled your neck.
“Just you, like this.” You sighed. Who knew Dean Winchester was a considerate lover.
His slow, measured thrusts brought you closer to the edge, your core fluttering each time, he could feel it. It surprised him how quickly is climax built at this pace, but the added connection you both shared seemed to turn him on. He would never give up Busty Asian Babe porn but he could get used to this with you.
You didn’t close your eyes against the pleasure this time, you watched him come undone above you, gasping as his orgasm made his legs and arms shake, muscles clenched tight to keep his weight from collapsing on you. When he swelled you dug your fingers into his hips to pull him deeper with each stroke, and when he spilled you also came, eyes fluttering shut finally.
Dean knelt up, slipping the rubber off as soon as he was clear of you and, tying a knot in the end, tossed it in the direction of the trash can.
“Shot.” You said with a smile as the sticky bundle went straight in the can.
He quirked and eyebrow and give you a slightly smug lopsided smirk that said: What can I say? I don’t miss.
When you moved to sit, he stopped you.
“Here, lemme get that.”
“Thanks.”
He stripped his t-shirt off and used it to clean up the wetness between your legs. Though none of it was his, it would still dribble when you moved. Afterwards he tucked it under your ass and flopped down on the bed at your side, moving his arm behind your head so you could rest it on his chest. You were both content. Both had goofy grins on your faces. Both disbelieving that you had finally gotten what you wanted.
A loud knock at the door started you.
“Are you done?” Sam said. “I need that book.”
“NO!” You and Dean shouted back in unison, laughing afterwards.
“Bobby’s gonna kill you.” Sam called back through the door.
“I KNOW!” Dean yelled gruffly, pulling you closer.
There might be a time in the future where the ghost of Bobby Singer came to make him regret the day his balls dropped and, if it happened, Dean would be happy to see him again. In the meantime, you and he could work on a whole bunch of reasons to make the cranky old bastard come down from up high for a visit.
Dean pulled the sheets over both of your heads, nibbling at your neck until you moaned his name. Aside from the roar of Baby’s engine, he had found his new favourite sound.
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#dean winchester x you#dean winchester fanfiction#spn#supernatural fic#spn fanfic#dean winchester fic#cloudy's writing#my first spn fic
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POV: Dating Dean Winchester....
#supernatural#castiel x dean#destiel#dean winchester#castiel#castiel novak#sam winchester x sister!reader#sam winchester#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester x you#sam winchester smut#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#supernatural memes#supernatural family#supernatural fandom#spn#dean winchester x you#sam winchester fanfiction#sam and dean#sam winchester imagines
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Your camera roll if you hunted with Sam and Dean.
#spn#supernatural#sam winchester#dean winchester#dean winchester x you#dean winchester smut#dean winchester fanfiction#dean x reader#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester fic#sam winchester fluff#sam winchester smut#sam winchester x reader#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester angst#dean winchester au#spn aesthetic#supernatural fanart#supernatural aesthetic#Sam Winchester aesthetic#dean winchester aesthetic
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transposition
summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made
pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)
word count: 6.3k+
warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)
“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”
“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face.
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch.
“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-”
“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation.
“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you.
It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together.
“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients.
“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”
“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”
“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”
He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back.
With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t.
You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying.
“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension.
“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.
“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”
“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.
“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-”
“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands?
“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body?
“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you.
“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.
You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”
“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around.
“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself.
“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode.
“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!”
He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room.
“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?”
“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind.
“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare.
“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you.
“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on.
Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.”
“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat.
Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now.
“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling.
“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily.
Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time.
“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.
Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”
“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground.
“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?”
“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be.
“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”
“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him.
“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!”
“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation.
“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return.
“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean.
“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”
“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again.
“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”
“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face.
“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.”
“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room.
You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes.
“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression.
“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you.
“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug.
“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!”
“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.”
“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.”
“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.”
“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish.
With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen.
“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”
“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?”
“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”
“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!”
“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!”
“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”
“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.”
“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!”
“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen.
“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table.
Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.”
Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort.
Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze.
“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head.
Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite.
“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food.
The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere.
“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin.
You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?”
“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?”
“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?”
“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.
After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t.
“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly.
You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier.
“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.
“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile.
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.”
“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving.
You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle.
“You alright?” you asked tentatively.
“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one.
“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.”
“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better.
He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.”
“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation.
He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.”
“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word.
You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.
“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table.
“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration.
“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”
“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.”
“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return.
You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.”
Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”
“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation.
“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.”
You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.”
He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk.
“What does that mean?” you asked curiously.
“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.”
“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.
Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”
You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.
“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you.
“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively.
You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.”
“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.”
“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically.
“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.”
“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.”
“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.”
“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly.
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.”
“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off.
“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.”
“Promise?” you asked meekly.
“I promise,” he said firmly.
“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further.
“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears.
“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly.
“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.
The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.
You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on.
“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously.
“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question.
You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this.
“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter.
The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you.
Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”
Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake.
The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day.
You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there.
You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam.
You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything.
The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore.
Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out.
You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either.
“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs.
“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat.
Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.”
“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion.
“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?”
“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.
“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?”
“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”
You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave.
“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you.
“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards.
“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?”
“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.”
Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”
“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.”
“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”
“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words.
“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward.
“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response.
“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.”
“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.
“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.”
You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name.
“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.”
You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you?
“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.”
“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps.
“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker.
“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.
“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.
“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently.
“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly.
It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated.
“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.”
“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation.
“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?”
“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her.
“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly.
“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.
It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.
“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?”
“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around.
“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!”
Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room.
“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief.
“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar.
You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying.
“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.
“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.
“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”
“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly.
“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-”
“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.
“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.
“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.
“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.
You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room.
“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by.
“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car.
The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him.
If he ever decided to open the goddamn door.
“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time.
You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?”
You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward.
He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly.
“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.”
He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.”
“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you.
“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.
“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him.
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet.
“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work.
“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.”
“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him.
“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-”
“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”
“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.
“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”
He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more.
“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.”
“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat.
“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.”
“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked.
“We didn’t lie, we just-”
“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”
“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly.
“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?”
“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.”
“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?”
“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.”
“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess.
You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?”
He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?”
“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.
“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down.
“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him.
“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?”
“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more.
“You said-”
“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.”
“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”
“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin.
“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”
You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low.
“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.
As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks.
When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips.
You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.”
“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”
tagging: @winharry
dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika
#supernatural#spn#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#sam winchester#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#dean x you#dean x y/n#dean winchester x y/n#sam winchester x reader#dean x female!reader#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean fluff#dean fic#dean winchester angst#dean angst#sam winchester fluff#supernatural fandom#supernatural fic#dean winchester x plus size reader#jensen ackles#jared padalecki#best friend!sam winchester
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JENSEN-A-THON
WELCOME!
Rules:
You have to have trigger warnings on your drabbles/oneshots
No inc3st, p3dophilia, age gaps are allowed as long as one isn’t a minor, if anything is majorly outta pocket then nope sorry
Any of Jensen’s characters
You may use a section from an existing fic IF it works as a drabble
No OC inserts. (Y/N) or no mentioned names are allowed
You’re allowed same sex couples
Smut is allowed
Jensen’s Characters (That aren’t so hard to find info on):
Dean Winchester
Soldier Boy
Beau Arlen
Alec McDowell
CJ Braxton
Jason Teague
Tom Hanniger
Russell Shaw
Boaz Priestly
When is it happening?
2nd June - 16th June
List of writers participating (comment/reblog to show you’re participating):
@artyandink @k-slla @jackles010378 @angelbabyyy99 @lailawinchesterr @kayleighwinchester @anundyingfidelity
This will be then compiled into a fic rec list, so everyone can read it. If a writer posts a drabble/oneshots, do reblog with feedback or a review to keep the flow going! The writer who posts the most drabbles/oneshots in those ten days will get a personalised oneshot written by me.
Have fun!
IMPORTANT NOTE: I will need you to tell me in the comments or by reblog, or by DMs if you’re participating!
IMPORTANT 2: Make sure to tag me in your drabbles/oneshots so I can tally!
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#spn#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#dean winchester x you#spn masterlist#dean winchester x oc#supernatural oc#cj braxton fics#cj braxton x female reader#cj braxton x reader#cj braxton smut#cj braxton#beau arlen x oc#beau arlen x you#beau arlen x reader#soldier boy x oc#soldier boy x you#soldier boy x reader#soldier boy fanfiction#alec mcdowell x you#alec mcdowell x reader#alec mcdowell#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles
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| Hidden Feelings Pt.5 |
GIF: Mine
Pairing(s): Dean Winchester X Fem!Reader Sam Winchester X Fem!Reader (Platonic) Bobby Singer X Daughter!Reader
Genre: Fluff
Warning(s): Age Gap (Dean: 26 Reader: 21), kissing, confession.
Summary: You’re Bobby Singer’s daughter, and after John died Sam and Dean come to stay with you.
——————————————————
When the two of you finally broke apart, Dean rested his forehead against yours. You both stood together in a comfortable silence, and neither of you wanted to break the temporary peace you were feeling at this moment.
One of Deans hands moved down to your waist, staying just above the waist band of your skirt, under your hoodie. The other stayed on your cheek as his thumb moved back and forth, gently rubbing the smooth skin of your cheek.
Your left hand was placed on the back of Dean’s neck, softly scratching soothing Dean’s anger, while your right rested on his chest.
“Dean…” You whispered, daring to break the silence, “What does this mean?”
You had to know, you had to be sure that this was what you hoped it was.
“I… I just had to once- and this…” Dean’s Pinky and ring finger moved down slightly over the waistband of your skirt, “God, sweetheart, you drive me crazy,”
You pulled your head back and looked up at Dean, before speaking again, “A good type of crazy?”
“The best type of crazy,” He said back and you smiled.
“I don’t want this to be a once,” You admitted and wrapped your right arm around Deans neck. His hand on your cheek moved to your lower back pulling you closer to him, and your lips connected again.
Moving together, you stepped backwards and Dean stepped forwards, not breaking apart, until you felt you back come in contact with the back of the impala.
Dean’s hands moved under your thighs, then suddenly he picked you up, as if you weigh nothing. He placed you on the car stepping between your legs as his left hand moved back to your waist and his right stayed on the side of your thigh, the tips of his fingers sliding under your skirt.
“Y/n!” You suddenly heard the voice of your dad yell through the junkyard.
Dean quickly moved away to the other end of the car, crouching down by the wheel, and you fixed yourself up before your dad came into view.
“Yes?” You said back.
“What are you doing out here?” He asked and you shrugged your shoulders.
“Talkin’ to Dean…” You said and, out the corner of your eye, you saw Dean glance at you for a moment, “I needed a break from my collage work,”
“M’kay, well it’s cold out here, so go change,” He told you.
“Yeah, I agree, you should go change,” Dean spoke up and you shot a glare at him.
What you wanted to say next was completely different to what you actually said, “Whatever, I need to go to the store for food anyway,”
“After you change?” Your dad said with a raised brow.
“Yes, after I change, save the heart attack for another day,” Your dad rolled his eyes as he walked away and once he was out of view you jumped off the car.
After kissing Dean on the cheek, you went back inside to change because, as much as you hate to admit it, your dad was right it was colder today and you didn’t want your legs to eventually freeze off while you was at the store.
——————————————————
@kr804573 @jackles010378 @figurantedefilme @iloveyou2mia @onlyangel-444 @star-yawnznn @xx-spooky-little-vampire-xx @imaginationlover101 @arrowenchantress @qinnroki @arcannaa
#dean winchester#spn#spnfandom#supernatural#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x oc#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#fluff#sam winchester
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POV: Texts between You and Dean Winchester
Bonus if you like Pedro Pascal:
This is what happens when I can't sleep
#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#spn#dean winchester#supernatural fic#spn drabble#spn fanfic#spn fluff#supernatural fluff#spn fic#supernatural moodboard#dean winchester headcanon#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x reader fluff#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean Winchester smut#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester moodboard#dean Winchester headcanons
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