#Like yeah they killed Dean Winchester for it but at least they could never try to make him a straight family man again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kaleldobrev · 8 months

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Stupidest Person Alive

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: After a near death experience in which you almost lost Dean, you tell him that you can’t risk losing him again.

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Cursing (9x), Fluff, Soft!Dean, Parent!Dean

Authors Note: I refuse to accept the canon ending of Supernatural after all these years | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

You don’t know the exact amount of time you’ve been sitting in this uncomfortable hospital chair, curled up, huddled underneath a random flannel of Dean’s that was in a duffel bag in the trunk of Baby. You rubbed your eyes, trying to get rid of the sleepiness; surprised that you even managed to get a wink of sleep.

The last few days have honestly been some of the worst days of your life, as you were told by doctor after doctor that Dean’s condition didn’t seem to be getting any better. It stayed the same, which was a good and bad thing. He was in and out of consciousness, barely awake long enough to have a conversation. His eyes would just flutter open and he would briefly look at you. And you would smile at him, and he would do the same. His lips always looking like he was about to say something but he never did as his eyes just shut again. Each and every time his eyes shut, a part of you hoped that it wouldn’t be the last time.

The last few days have given you a lot of time to reflect, reflect about your time as a hunter; thinking about all of the good you have done, but also thinking about all of the times you’ve nearly died or have actually died. In the words of Dorothy, “you’re not a real hunter unless you’ve come back from the dead.” And you, Sam, and Dean have come back from the dead more times than you could count at this point, but you’re pretty sure Dean had the highest death count.

“Not awake yet?” Sam asked, two Styrofoam cups of coffee in hand.

“No,” you answered as he handed you one of the cups, “Thanks.”

“I’m surprised you fell asleep,” he said, taking a spot in the chair next to yours.

“How long was I out for?” You asked, taking a sip from your coffee. You hated the taste of hospital coffee, but the caffeine it contained had to do for now.

“Only half an hour,” he stated.

“You get any?” He shook his head. “You really need to get at least a little rest. We’re no help to Dean tired.”

Sam couldn’t help but agree, but he had the same mind set as you; he wanted to be awake when Dean woke up. “I’ll sleep when I know he’s okay,” he said, stubborn as he usually was.

When Dean finally woke, he didn’t really know where he was. But all he knew was that the lights were too bright for him. He struggled to keep his eyes open as he squinted, trying to adjust. “Fuck these lights are bright,” he said weakly.

You almost had wanted to laugh, hearing Dean say these words. The man had been out for the last few days and the first thing he had to comment on was the fucking brightness of the lights. But if you were being honest, it was pretty on brand for him. “Hey Sleepy Head,” you said, getting up from the hospital chair.

“Hey there Sweetheart,” he smiled. “Sam with you?”

“Yeah, just talking to one of the doctors,” you said. You took his hand and held it in yours, and all Dean could do was just stare at your face, admiring it like he was just seeing you for the first time.

“How long was I out?” He asked. “My head and stomach are fucking killing me.”

"A few days," you replied. "To be fair, you've been on pain killers pretty much the whole time and not a lot of actual food in your stomach."

"When we get out of here, can we go get a couple of cheeseburgers?" He asked, grinning at you.

"Of course we can," you smiled.

"So, I really fucked my body up bad this time uh?" He asked, letting out a small chuckle.

“If you call nearly killing yourself fucking up your body than yes,” you said, no humor in your voice. He could tell that you were pissed. “You know Dean, I love you, but you’re honestly the stupidest fucking person alive.”

“Love you too Sweetheart,” he grinned.

“I’m serious. I thought I fucking lost you for good this time. Me and Sam…” you took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. There was no point in getting upset, no point in being mad at Dean. “We thought you were dead, dead this time.”

Dean looked at your face, hearing the sound of your voice, and it started to break his heart. He didn’t realize how much pain his actions had caused you and Sam over the course of the last few days. When he killed that vamp the way that he did, he wasn’t thinking about himself in that moment, wasn’t thinking about you or Sam. All he could think about was killing that vamp with the items that he had surrounding him. Being resourceful was one of his most useful and best qualities (at least he seemed to think so). “I’m sorry I scared you…and Sam.”

“It’s not your fault Dean I’m just…I was so fucking scared,” you felt yourself about to cry, but you didn’t want to tear up. “You and Sam are all I have left.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” he tried reassuring you, but he knew his words weren’t going to stick.

“But I almost did. And I can’t…I can’t have that again,” you said, your voice slightly shaking. “I can’t do this anymore.”

“Can’t do what?” He was afraid to ask, hoping this wasn’t you cutting and running. But he wouldn’t blame you if you did. You deserved a far better life than what he could give you. And despite him loving you, he wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

“Hunting.” A wave of relief washed over Dean. “We’ve died so many fucking times. More than, more than anyone. And, I know as hunters we save people, save people from all the monsters in the world but, I’m tired. I’m tired of the constant moving. The constant fighting. The constant looking over my shoulder.” Like the Winchesters, hunting was the only life you had ever known, but having a life away from the monsters and demons was something that you had dreamed of. And it was a dream that you had pictured doing with Dean; it was something the two of you often talked about.

“Okay,” was all Dean said to your speech. He agreed with all of it, and you knew that he did, as having a life away from hunting was something you two often talked about. But neither of you ever thought that it would be possible for you, as this was really the only life either of you really knew. “As soon as I get out of here, we’re done. And done for good this time.”

Five Years Later…

The aroma of your homemade chicken noodle soup filled the air as you did another few stirs in the pot on the stove. You heard the front door open and close, and you smiled, quickly wiping your hands on your kitchen towel. “Honey we’re home!” Dean yelled, his voice cheerful as always.

“Mommy, mommy, mommy!” Your daughter yelled, her voice equally as joyful as her fathers as she ran to meet you in the kitchen.

Her arms opened up wide as you went down on your knees to greet her at her level, the two of you embracing each other. “Hi baby,” you smiled, kissing her on the top of the head.

“Hold me?” She asked, giving similar looking puppy dog eyes to that of her Uncle Sam’s.

“Always,” you said, picking her up in your arms. “How did you do at the doctors?”

“I was very brave,” she answered. She pointed to a sparkly strawberry sticker on her shirt. “The doctor gave me this because I did a really good job,” she said and then looked over at Dean. “Right daddy?”

“Bravest kid there,” he smiled. “Doctor even told her she’s her favorite patient.”

“Favorite patient uh?” You smiled. “Now that’s really something,” you said, giving her another kiss on her temple.

“Mom, after dinner can you and daddy tell me some more of those spooky stories?” Your daughter asked. You smiled, and so did Dean. The spooky stories that she was referencing were all of the hunts that you and Dean had been on throughout the years, but it was something that you never straight out told her (not yet at least, the both of you wanted to keep her as naive as long as possible). You never used either of your names, or Sam’s, you always changed the names, but these were stories that she had grown to love, and always expected a new one every single time. Thankfully, but not too thankfully, you and Dean were always able to tell her something new as the two of you had decades worth of hunts between you.

“Of course, what do you wanna hear about today?” Dean asked.

Your daughter thought for a moment, putting her thinking cap on until a lightbulb in her little head appeared; the biggest grin on her face. “Ghosts!”

You and Dean exchanged looks, almost thankful that she picked an easy topic for todays story. “How would you like to hear about the Van Ness House?” You asked her.

“It sounds spooky already!” She beamed.

Five years you and Dean, along with Sam and Eileen have been living the domestic life, none of you have hunted for the last five years. In all honesty, you were surprised that you and Dean had managed not to hunt, as hunting was something that the two of you had only known. When Dean told you five years ago that he was done with hunting for good because you said you were done, there was a part of you that didn’t believe him, as the last time he said he was done he got roped back in (which meant you got roped back in), when the both of you found out that Sam had returned from the pit.

But these last five years have been life changing for the both of you, as not only did the two of you have a beautiful daughter together, but you were happily married in addition to that — two things that neither of you ever thought would happen nor would ever be possible.

Tag List: @roseblue373 @beansproutmafia @queenie32 @deanwanddamons @missy420-0 @jackles010378 @mrsjenniferwinchester @syrma-sensei @k-slla @justletmereadfanfic @deans-daydream If you'd like to be added to a tag list, let me know!

#dean winchester x you #dean winchester x reader #spn #supernatural #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #reader insert #female reader

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deanbrainrotwritings · 7 months

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— SCREAM (YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE IT’S HALLOWEEN)

SUMMARY : it’s Halloween and it’s also your birthday, and Dean’s made a lot of promises about how it was gonna be the best night ever.

PAIRING : dean winchester x fem!reader

CHARACTERS : none

WARNINGS : nsfw (18+), smut, fluff, tiny bit of choking, nipple orgasm

WORD COUNT : 3.4k

A/N : happy Halloween (if you celebrate) !!! title from avenged sevenfold and muse song. my sister convinced me to write this LOL. this is pretty much a Drabble, lol, leaving it open ended basically, you’ll see why… (also, when I write I pretty much assume everyone’s watch Supernatural at least once.. I never put any spoiler disclaimers bc I forget… lol but, yeah. pretty much everything I write will mention something from any and all seasons) XX

The Bunker was chilly this Halloween night, and for the first time in years, Y/n and the Winchesters weren’t tangled up in a hunt. The monsters, for once, didn’t take advantage of the holiday to get away with their usual tricks and modes of preying.

To be fair, their numbers had dwindled significantly since Jack became ‘God’ or whatever the hell happened. Hunting wasn’t nearly as hard as it was before, as if even monsters had free-will bestowed upon them. As if they’d chosen a better life rather than one in which they are hunted and killed.

Good for them. Everyone wins.

The only prey tonight is Y/n, but as far as she’s concerned the running is only part of the fun, and getting caught wasn’t something she’d hate.

As she breathed erratically and ran as fast as her platform heels could carry her across the concrete floor of the Bunker, her heart raced as if she were on any other hunt. But what made this hunt different was the spark of excitement that tingled up her spine and the flush of her bare skin.

She stopped at the kitchen and caught her breath momentarily, looking around the place as everything flashed red. To add to the thrill, mostly. She walked on shaky legs to the refrigerator and took out some water to drink it quickly. As she swallowed down a fair amount, she could feel the cold water travel down to her stomach and she sighed as her thirst and the dryness in her throat disappeared.

After about twenty minutes of hiding and running away, she was on high alert, her senses were heightened, and she could easily hear his footsteps—even over the alarm Dean had set off in the Bunker to scare her even more.

She quickly made her way out of the kitchen after setting the half-empty water bottle on the metal counter, checked both ways and began making her way into the dungeon, wondering if maybe Dean was there. If he could just catch her already, the dampness of her lace panties wouldn’t be too uncomfortable. Especially since she could easily feel it with the cool air inside the concrete walls of her temporary home.

Much to her disappointment, Dean wasn’t anywhere to be found in the dungeon or anywhere around there. Even if he’s the one that’s supposed to be looking for her, she just wanted to know what would happen once she was caught by him.

Besides, her feet were starting to ache, her legs were practically turning to jelly at this point, and her sweat was starting to feel uncomfortable. It didn’t sound very sexy to her, but she knew Dean would still jump her bones despite that. It was a nice feeling, to be loved… by him specifically.

She had to wonder if he was even trying.

Just forty minutes ago, he had texted her to take her clothes off and to wear the lingerie set he’d placed in Sam’s room for safekeeping. It had been in Cas’ room before that, but once Sam left to be with Eileen, Dean placed the white box on Sam’s bed. A huge, royal blue bow glittered in the middle of the boring room, perfectly positioned on the box with her name and a sexy note from Dean promising to make it the best birthday ever.

She’d waited in Dean’s room excitedly in the light blue lingerie and when he’d made his way to her, she couldn’t believe what he had in mind, what his plan was. He had some heels in his hands and she gaped up at the Ghostface mask that covered her boyfriend’s handsome face. He was covered from head to toe in a thick black robe, laughed at the look on her face, and got down to put her heels on her.

“How’s that, sweetheart?” He asked, his deep and hot voice muffled behind the mask.

“Uh,” she tried, then just decided to stand up and moved her legs around a bit to test the comfort. She nodded and he tugged her towards him, the smooth and cool material of his robe brushing against her soft and warm skin. She could feel every inch of him, and wondered momentarily if he was completely naked underneath, but instead of asking him flirtatiously, she just gasped.

She stumbled backwards for a few steps when he began to walk forward with her still in his arms. She chewed on her bottom lip when he had her pressed against the wall. She could see his green eyes through the thick black cloth that covered his eyes, the way they were looking down at her with so much amusement. If she had to go by those crinkles by his eyes, she had to guess he had the hottest, smuggest look on his face.

And he’d be right to.

He lifted her leg up slowly, held her knee by his hip, and squeezed her closer to him by her waist. Her heart raced at the sight of him and she felt wetness grow between her legs when he slotted his hips between hers.

All the while, she just clung to his arms, staring up at him in surprise and completely aroused by his calculated movements. Even her breaths had gotten irregular and he hadn’t said or done much of anything, but that was the effect of Dean Winchester.

“Run,” he murmured deeply, releasing her before stepping away.

She blinked up at him, “uh, what?”

He looked away, laughed softly, and grabbed her wrist. She chewed on her lip and let him spin her around gracefully. With a nice slap on her ass, he repeated the word ‘run’ much more sternly than before. She looked at the hallway in front of her in surprise, then looked down at herself in lingerie, then back over her shoulder at him in his costume.

He jerked his head to the left, quietly telling her to go.

And that’s why she was running now. They were half-assed attempts most of the time, but when she spotted him behind her, she felt her stomach flutter, and started to break out in a thrilled sprint across whatever room she was in to get away from him. When he chased her, the small hairs on her body raised above her skin, a shudder of excitement ghosting up her spine. It was way too fun to end the game, but getting caught piqued her interest, too.

Dean wouldn’t just start this whole game only for it to end at the capture. No, he was far too creative and way too frisky for that. He had something in mind, something mind blowing, some big treat at the end regardless of the outcome of this chase. That much she knew.

She made her way out of the dungeon, speed walking through the halls, checking her surroundings. At this point, she was considering the removal of her heels. They were very sexy, but definitely not ideal for running. Also, they practically announced her location with each click on the concrete floor, despite her efforts to walk awkwardly in attempts to muffle the sounds.

She had already checked the infirmary, the library, kitchen, bathroom, shooting range. She basically paid a visit to every room in the Bunker and had no luck in bumping into Dean in any of those places.

She thought about what to do about the heels as she went to the one place she hadn’t checked—the garage, where Dean’s favourite sexy, old cars remained. They were perfect for hiding in. Of course, Dean could be waiting to pounce on her from within any one of them, if he was looking through each room. She hoped for the latter, it would give her feet some rest from the painful running. She simply couldn’t walk in heels this tall for very long.

She quietly made her way up the stairs to stand at the entrance of the garage when the alarms stopped and the lights flickered off. She cursed softly under her breath, but Dean already gave his location away by shutting off the loud noises and distracting lights.

Once she slowly set foot deeper into the garage, she quickly scanned around the room, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. She walked to the end of the garage where the black Bentley S2 was and looked around one last time with her hand on the door handle before sneaking inside the backseat of the vehicle.

The leather squeaked beneath her bare skin as she slid across and shut the door once she was inside. She wiggled around to lay down over the beige seat and relaxed at last. Bending her knee, she lifted her leg up to finally remove the heels. Mentally, she apologised to Dean when she took them off.

She lowered her legs and groaned when she looked at the tiny space between the backseat and the front seat. It wasn’t nearly as big as the Impala’s, really rather small, way too small for her to slip between comfortably on her back. If she were on her side… but no, that was out of the question.

She rolled her ankles, stretched her legs, bent them… She did everything until the aches in her legs mostly disappeared. And, wow, she could fall asleep right about now. Except there was a loud bang from something in the garage that made her jump, one of her hands immediately flying to her mouth to contain her hysterical laugh and a yelp.

“I know you’re in here,” Dean taunted nearby. She removed her hand to smile curiously and raised a brow. She wished she could sink into the car seat right about now, but also wanted to lift herself up to see him, but decided against it. Instead, she waited as he looked through every car, every second feeling like a lifetime and yet when he gently pushed against the car she was in with a loud bang, she shouted.

His chest was heaving, his gloved hands were placed on either side of the door where her feet were and she started to laugh instead.

“Hi, baby,” he greeted in a raspy tone, his voice slightly muffled behind the mask. He proceeded to open the door of the car and she sat up, her heart thumping excitedly when he peeked inside and saw her feet covered only in the white thigh highs. “Your feet okay?” He asked, then grasped her ankle, she barely nodded when he tugged her roughly towards him by her foot.

She quickly gripped the seat as the leather squeaked against her ass, heating up her sensitive skin. “Ow,” she chuckled, echoing his own apologetic laugh. He grabbed the seat and leaned inside, his other hand slid up her calf to grab behind her knee. She licked her lips and her face flushed as he parted her legs. Wetness pooled between her thighs, her clit pulsed at the ideas running through her head, instantly becoming aroused as he climbed inside the car, settling into the spot between her legs.

She reached out for his robe and tugged him forward. He reached up and brushed her soft strands of hair away from her shoulder, then let his hand slide to the nape of her neck to grip on it. She pushed out her chest, silently begging for his eyes to drop down and admire her. “You caught me…” she trailed off, feeling a tingle run down her spine when his gloved fingers brushed against her scalp.

“I did…” he teased, tugging her hair. She gasped softly, her thighs twitching to shut when she felt the pressure in her skull run dully to her clit.

The darkness made everything better. She could hear his breathing, her own just as quick as his.

“Are you ready for your first birthday gift?” He asked, disappointingly untangling his fingers from her hair to slide his gloved fingers teasingly down her neck, to the strap of her bra.

She shivered and bit her lip, felt her nipples tightening against the lace of her bra as her fingers slid down the front of her strap. “I thought this morning… with the crepes and with the way that you—”

“Well, this is gonna be your first gift of the night,” he interrupted her, sounding smug. Slowly, Dean slid his hand beneath the strap to drag it off her shoulder, and kept his hand there to push her down onto her back.

“How many gifts do you have for me?” She asked, watching him tilt his head thoughtfully.

“How old are you?” He asked rhetorically as he lifted her thighs above his.

She stared at the mask covering Dean’s face with confusion, then it twisted into incredulity. The soft material of his gloves slid up her sides teasingly, then right back down to playfully snap the garter she was wearing against her soft skin.

“You look so fucking hot, baby,” he groaned, hands sliding slowly over her belly, up her ribs, then coming together over her lace-covered breasts. He squeezed them playfully, felt her thighs become tense against his, and heard her breath hitch softly. “Was that fun?” He asked quietly, pulling the cup of her bra down, she inhaled shakily and whispered a ‘yes’.

Gently, he brushed his thumbs around her nipples, one uncovered and the other still safe inside the lace cup. Still, she felt a tingly sensation spark up on her breasts and between her legs. She murmured his name and arched her back slightly, reaching between her legs to grab his waist.

“I haven’t made you cum like this enough times, have I, sweetheart?” He gently rolled her nipples between his fingers and pinched them, slowly teasing, building up the arousal. She looked at him, face covered in a mask, but there was something so arousing about the darkness, the car, his hands on her chest, the material of his gloves creating a perfect sensation… about wearing the lingerie he bought for her, hearing his ragged breaths moggling with hers, occasional gasps and quiets moans filled up the backseat.

“We never have time…” she agreed, dazed with the yearning. She squirmed, wanting to feel more, but instead of removing his gloves he lowered the other cup and played with them both, used the same techniques to erect them and make her feel desperate, kindling her orgasm.

“Please,” she moaned, fingers wrapping around his wrist and tugging up.

“What?” He asked softly, playfully exasperated by her grip. He knew what she wanted as she searched for the edge of the cuff and began tugging downwards.

“I want to feel you,” she murmured, thumbs gently brushing over his pulse point where she could feel his heartbeat thrumming swiftly against the pads of her fingers.

“I thought you liked the feeling like this…” he murmured, removing one hand from her chest and sliding the other upwards to teasingly squeeze her neck. He teased her clit over the lace of her underwear with gloved fingers, her breath catching and barely moving past his gentle grip on her neck.

The teasing didn’t last and neither did the fuzzy breathlessness of his grip on her neck. He removed his gloves quickly and ghosted his fingers sensually up her body again, showing her the feel of his warm, calloused hands on her flushed skin.

She hummed softly, almost a pur, and placed her smaller hands above his, squirming as she attempted to hurry his hands. He only laughed at her attempts, ignored her little whine, and slid his hand under the baby blue bra. He lifted the lacey bra up her chest slowly, so the lace would teasingly brush against her sensitive nipples, and then made an arch over her cleavage.

Her gently used his thumbs to rub the underside of her breasts first, building up the feeling of his warm palm before cupping her breasts. With a gentle squeeze of her breasts, he murmured little praises to her, and tapped around her nipples.

She wiggled impatiently, her excitement growing by the second, heat rising from head to toe like conduction from the warmth of his teasing fingers. The little taps slowly moved inwards, it was gentle, and felt so good, but she wanted more. No amount of squirming from her made Dean accelerate his touch, minute by minute, he kept with the same technique, and finally switched to rubbing her nipple, pinching, twisting..

“More, Dean…” she whined, feeling irritated at being on the edge of her orgasm, like a wave that never came.

“Like what?” He asked playfully, tweaking her nipples to shut her up half way through her ‘fuck you’. Her knees pressed into his sides needily, her back was arched again and he rolled his eyes in amusement when she reached up to his face to pull off the mask. “Tell me first,” he murmured, leaning backwards, getting away from her hands.

“I need…” she laughed softly, “your mouth.”

“Good girl,” he praised tenderly, moving one hand away from her breast.

He moved the mask out of the way with one hand and leaned down over her body to flick his tongue against her nipple a few times. Her knees pressed harder into his sides and she moaned loudly, hands sliding into the hood of his cloak to grip his hair tightly. He wrapped his lips around her nipple, teeth pressing roughly around her flesh, tongue lapping at the hardened bud, and made his cheeks hollow as he sucked harshly, pinching her other nipple roughly with his hand.

Finally, she orgasmed, groaning out a long fuck as she shivered and pulled his face closer to her chest. It wasn’t nearly as intense as if he’d stimulated her clit or any of the spots inside her vagina, but it felt amazing nonetheless.

He smirked against her chest and waited for her body to relax before he pulled away from her chest with an obscenely wet sound and lowered the mask again. He rubbed her hips comfortingly and squeezed her flesh.

“You’ve got some real talent with that tongue of yours and those fingers,” she told him breathlessly, sitting up to wrap her arms around his neck.

“That was more than clear to me this morning,” he agreed with a laugh, gently running his hand up and down her back. “Hold onto me, sweetheart,” he ordered suddenly and wrapped an arm around her waist. She clung to him a little tighter and wrapped her arms around his waist as he made his way out of the backseat of the car.

When he stood straight, rather than setting her down, he kicked the door close—abandoning her heels inside, and began to walk toward the exit of the garage. He turned after a few metres and set her down onto the cold hood of the pale green car. She hissed softly at the coldness of the metal against her skin and let go of him to stare so the confusions into the darkness where Dean was standing.

“Can’t carry me anymore?” She teased, biting her lip.

“You’re really gonna be mean to me?” He snorted, dropping his hands to her thighs to play with the little, light blue bow on her long socks.

“No…” she pouted, reaching out for his hips to bring him closer. “I need you..” she whispered needily, feeling uncomfortably wet. He quietly unclipped the garter from her socks, gently trailed his fingers above the soft hem of them to get to the other side and do the same. Excitement began creeping up in her again and she bit her lip.

Languidly, he slid his hands up her thighs, snapped the waistband of her underwear and trailed his fingers over her pelvis. He hooked his finger under her underwear, felt wetness as he brushed past her folds, with a little moan, he pulled her underwear to the side and thumbed between her folds to gently brush against her clit.

She gasped quietly, her arms shook the longer he teased her. Torturously, he lowered her underwear and let them stay around her parted knees. She slowly lowered herself onto her back with his hand on her ribs pushing her backwards gently.

He lifted her feet to lay fat on top of the car, staring down at her silhouette, clearly making out her lingerie. She parted her legs as far as she could with the underwear around her knees. His fingers ghosted along the inside of thighs, as he kneaded her thighs, he murmured, “one down…”

➥ standing next to you

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester #dean x you

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spnexploration · 5 months

Text

A Christmas Case

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: None

Summary: Dean drags you out of bed to go to a case, ruining your Christmas plans. But does he have a plan to make up for it?

Words: 1.1k

This is my submission for @spnfanficpond Secret Santa 2023 (ignore the fact it was posted in Jan 2024...) and is a gift for @apocalypseornaw ❤ Sorry for the delay!

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“Come on, we’ve got a case,” Dean said, shaking you awake.

“Fu’ offfff,” you grumbled at him. “You’re not allowed in my room.” What you’d really like was Dean to stay in your room permanently, maybe some ravishing… But that was never going to happen.

He chuckled, “Just channel that energy to the monster. We leave in twenty.”

---

You sulked in the backseat. It was December 23rd, why the hell were you off on a case? You’d put in a little bit of effort at the bunker, getting a tree and some dollar shop baubles. That was all for naught, now.

Dean caught sight of you in the rear-view mirror. “What’s up with you, princess? We interrupt your beauty sleep?” You didn’t appreciate his teasing.

“I don’t see why monsters couldn’t give us the bloody holidays off.”

“It’s just another day in our line of work, don’t know why you got your hopes up.”

You glared at him. “Yes, how could I, when known Scrooge, Dean Winchester, was going to be trawling for cases at 6am on Christmas Eve Eve.” It was his own damn fault he wouldn’t be getting the present you’d spent a lot of time choosing for him.

“Hey! I didn’t even find it!”

You turned your glare to Sam, “Got anything to say, Second Scrooge Winchester?”

“I just have some google alerts set up, sorry.”

You crossed your arms.

“You might have been expecting a bit too much from a Christmas at the Bunker anyway,” Dean said in a tone of voice as if he was trying to make you feel better. “We’re not very good at Christmases.”

You rolled your eyes and looked out the window. The boys decided to let you be.

---

You decided to keep a tally of how many people said something about the FBI making you work so close to Christmas: you were already up to 4 and it was only mid-afternoon on the first day. Happily the drive hadn’t been too long from the bunker to the crappy town where the case was, so you’d been able to get started straight away.

There was a giant Christmas tree in the main street of town. You felt like it was mocking you.

You dragged your feet as you followed the boys into the library, conveniently still open. You wondered if Dean even realised everything was going to be closed on Christmas Day. Serve him right if he couldn’t get pie that day.

You half-heartedly trawled some books, not really contributing to the research effort.

“Sorry,” Sam said quietly as he came to sit by you. “I didn’t mean to ruin your holidays.”

“It’s alright,” you said, not really feeling it but not wanting to sound petty, either.

“I can tell you’re upset. Hell, even Dean can tell you’re upset.”

“You know, Dean’s better at reading people than people give him credit for,” you said, always quick to defend inappropriate criticism of Dean.

“Ok, you’re right, that was a low blow. But you’re still upset, and I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, solve the case fast enough and maybe we can do Christmas on Boxing Day at least.”

He gave your arm a friendly squeeze before standing up again and heading back to the shelves.

“I think I found it!” Dean called from somewhere. You stood to go find him.

---

It turned out to be a very quick case, over by late evening Christmas Eve. It was late enough that ordinarily you’d all head back to the motel room and go home early the next morning, but Dean suggested something different. “How about we head back to the bunker tonight, I’ll drive.”

“It’s pretty late,” Sam said, nursing a couple of injuries.

“You can sleep in the backseat until we get there. Won’t it be better to get to sleep in your own bed?”

“If you’re doing this for me, you don’t have to,” you said. “It’s fine, it’s just a stupid day. You don’t have to kill yourself driving late at night just for me.”

“No, come on, it’ll be nice to be back home.” He gave you that beautiful smile and you couldn’t help but melt.

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak. Sam mumbled agreement and so you all piled into the Impala, Sam stretched out on the backseat. He was asleep almost instantly, and you weren’t too far behind.

---

“Hey, hey,” you woke to Dean whispering your name and gently shaking your shoulder. “Wake up.”

You looked around blearily, this wasn’t the bunker. It looked like the middle of nowhere. You started to ask Dean, but he held up his hand.

“Shh, don’t wake Sam,” he said, still whispering. “Come out of the car for a sec, I’ll explain it all.”

You looked at him quizzically but followed, closing the door as quietly as you could behind yourself. Dean took your hand and pulled you around to the front of the car. Your heart was racing; this was different…

“I’m sorry Sam and I ruined the Christmas you had planned,” he said, standing very close to you. You looked up into his stunningly gorgeous face wanting nothing more than to kiss him, but knowing that he saw you like a little sister. “But I thought we could look for Santa delivering presents,” he said, gesturing to the huge expanse of the night sky you could see.

You laughed, “What am I, 7?”

“Well, ok, it doesn’t have to be Santa. But it’s a nice night for stargazing, and I wanted to make it up to you.” He reached up and brushed his thumb over your cheek. This was definitely new. You nodded in agreement and he took your hand again, pulling you up on to the top of the bonnet.

He scooted very close to you. You could feel his body heat, which was good in the freezing night air. You felt a wave of goosebumps break out over your skin, but you weren’t entirely sure if they were because of the cold or the proximity of Dean.

He reached behind him and grabbed a blanket you hadn’t seen was there, then put his arms around you and draped it across your shoulders. He was so close, so beautifully close. And yet, always so far.

He didn’t put his arms back down, like you were expecting.

He put a hand on your shoulder. What was he doing? He put his other hand on your cheek. So warm, so close. So... intimate.

You looked up into his big, green eyes.

He leaned in close.

Oh. Oh! This was happening!

His soft, Adonis-like lips were suddenly on yours. You closed your eyes and leant into the moment.

He pulled away, “Merry Christmas. Hope this makes up for having to be on the road.”

“Oh, this definitely makes up for it,” you said before capturing his lips again.

The stars looked down from above, forgotten.

Dean Winchester tag list:

@mrsjenniferwinchester

@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@deans-spinster-witch

@zepskies

Everything Supernatural tag list:

@leigh70

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@ellie-andthemachine

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@123passwort

@kazsrm67

@nerdymuffinbonkcloud

@magssteenkamp

Spnfanficpond Dean Winchester x reader fluff tag list:

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fluff #pining #spn christmas #spnfanficpond #spnfanficpond secret santa 2023 #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester x y/n #dean x y/n

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binxiboo · 2 months

Text

The Frenchier Mistake

(aka Dean meets his celebrity crush: Actress!Reader)

Supernatural Masterlist // Full Masterlist

A/N: @princessmermaid1289 you'll never guess what I've only gone and done... I finished it! (we'll ignore it being well over a year later)

Actress!Reader x Sam and Dean

Clatters fill the bunker as all sorts of equipment and tools get dropped on the closest surface to the bottom of the staircase. Both Winchester brothers are incredibly over this last hunt. They were meant to be home days ago, thinking that they’d killed a whole nest of vamps; turns out these vampires were the vengeful kind, and when they found out that their friends had been savaged… well they didn’t take it lightly. It didn’t take them long to find the ’67 Chevy Impala on its route back to the bunker.

The respective hallways echo with heavy footsteps as the tire brothers silently bid each other goodnight before slinking behind their bedroom doors, each leaning their weight against them, unknowingly synchronised across rooms. It’s a miracle either of them even got their clothes off before collapsing into bed, finally getting a comfortable night’s rest they’d not had all week.

The two had a shock, however, when they were awoken by… clapping? Sam and Dean both shoot up in their beds, instantly trying to place what could be happening in their heads. As they’re processing the information around them, they begin to realise that the beds beneath them no longer feel like the comfortable ones they fell asleep in the night before. Hell, they’d had nicer motel beds than these. What are they? Solid wood? Dean runs his hand alongside his leg, pushing down on the barely-there mattress. Well, there’s some cushioning at least.

“That was a good one, guys!”

“Yeah, I think that’s us done for the night.”

The bodies in front of them slowly filtered out of the room while the two men made their way out of the prop beds. At a certain point, the wall separating their apparently-not-a-room ‘rooms’ ended, and the two brothers found themselves side by side. They turn to look at each other, then around what they’ve now realised is a tv set.

“Sammy?”

“Dean.”

“Tell me it’s not happened again.”

Sam swallows, hard. The lack of verbal response has Dean running a hand over his face. The next few moments are spent considering what actions may have led them to being stuck in this universe again. Several things get ruled out. They haven’t pissed off anyone with the ability to transport them across universe lately. Neither of them was messing with magic, or any practices to be clear, that could’ve gone wrong like this. It isn’t a dream that they’ve both ended up conscious in. There’s no way for anything to be an imminent threat. It is at this conclusion that Dean gets the best idea he thinks he has ever had in his life.

He's going to go flirt with some babes.

Dean quickly locates the door everyone had walked out of previously and practically drags his brother through it. Sam doesn’t quite process that he’s moving until his head almost hits the door frame on his way out of the building and his face screws up as he processes the information.

By the time Sam has gotten out of his own head Dean has already surveyed half the studios surrounding their own. As soon as a question begins forming on his tongue, Sam is pulled in another direction by Dean’s, arguably tight, grip on his forearm. Dean is on a mission as he glances around at the postered walls of each building. Honestly, Sam doesn’t understand how Dean even knows what he’s seen with how short the glances are. The sniffer dog act ends abruptly though when Dean receives all power of the moose that is his brother slam straight into his back, eliciting a grunt from the older, shorter brother.

“Not my fault you don’t come with brake lights.” Sam says with a shrug in response to Dean’s glare. “Why’d you stop so suddenly anyway?”

Dean simply turns around and gestures at the poster on the building directly in front of them. Sam, confused once more, delivers an expression to encourage elaboration.

“Dean, am I supposed to know what this is?”

“It’s a TV show. With doctors in it. Very dramatic. Heavy stuff.”

“And that’s supposed to help me how… oh. Is this that med show we got stuck in before?” An air of exasperation arrives by the end of Sam’s sentence.

Dean purses his lips and keeps his face hidden from Sam. He tries to tell himself that there’s nothing embarrassing about watching what is, frankly, just good television.

“Yeah, well… there’s… hot chicks.” Sure, that was convincing enough, Dean decides.

With a roll of his eyes, Sam follows Dean in through a door, slipping behind the few crew members who have just exited through it. They stick to the shadows, Dean, not so gently dragging Sam into the darkness with him, determined to sleuth out the space rather than risk immediate expulsion. Once, deemed safe, Dean slinks forward, attempting to contain his inner nerd, but ultimately coming to a halt as he ends up turns to face with someone he could never have prepared for.

The older Winchester’s eyes widen, pupils absolutely dilating – in fact, if this was the Scooby Doo crossover, there’d be audible ‘AWOOGA’s filling the silence. Dean Winchester has been infatuated with this actress since she began her role, how could he not? She’s inarguably the most attractive woman going, the amount on unsavoury concepts his filthy man brain has conjured up over the seasons… well, they’re better off inside his head, he thinks. A mental note recorded to not let any of them slip.

It has him in shock that she’s somehow existing in this universe. He’s in even more shock when he realises that it’s taken him ending up in another dimension to be in her presence, he was sure that he’d have to somehow get himself to that fan convention a few states over without Sam finding out, and yet, she’s here. They’re both there. A loud yell to cut triggers him to collect himself.

She sighs, walking out of the set, towards the snack table- towards him. He goes to inhale deeply, to settle his excitement before making a fool of himself, but she speaks before he can.

“Jensen? Jared?” there’s a lilt of interest in her voice, even excitement on her part.

Dean does a double take. She knows him. No. She knows Jensen. Well, that solidifies the theory that this is the same universe from before. Jensen. He can work with that.

“Hi.” He responds, his best charming smile sliding onto his face paired with a small wave of his hand. It encourages her to come closer, Dean internalises his celebration.

“Um, why-” her brow furrows, as she struggles to phrase a sentence, “You’re on my set? This- our set.”

“Yeah...” Dean nods, processing how he can spin this, “Actually, I- we- we came to see you."

Her face flushes, eyes widening slightly before she catches herself. “O-oh. You did?”

Dean nods, smiling at her again. Sam offers her a slightly awkward, but still kind, smile as her eyes flick over to him.

“Well, I was going to head to a bar after this shoot.” There’s an air of confidence flooding through her words now, she looks back at her director for the evening. He looks exhausted as he talks to other crewmembers, shaking his head. He mutters something. Then there’s a loud statement, letting everyone know they can go home for the night, they’ll try to get the scene tomorrow.

“A bar, you said?” Dean can’t hide his smirk as he gains her attention again.

She nods, “Yep. I- actually, think you’ll love it.”

“Lead the way then, Doctor.” He adds a laugh to this, hoping it doesn’t make her cringe. It makes Sam cringe, which earns the taller Winchester a not-so-subtle smack to the stomach. She, thankfully, laughs. Man is it one of the sweetest things he’s ever heard. He almost lets himself get lost in the sound before he remembers that this is not his universe, and that he’s not even himself here. He’s Jensen instead of Dean. On that topic, he considered whether anything indicated whether Jensen was in a relationship. He knows Sam has to act married; Jared having married ‘Fake Ruby’ and all that.

The two follow the actress.

They end up a street away from the studio. The lighting is low, but warm, almost comforting. Dean decides to be the gentleman and get the first round in. He asks the lady what she wants to drink, then hands his wallet to Sam, telling him to get him ‘a beer- no! No, a whiskey’. The two leave Sam at the bar to situate themselves in a more secluded booth in the back of the bar.

“Let's play a game.”

Dean’s head shoots around to her, eyebrow quirked and lips slightly smirked, challenging.

“I’m thinking... two truths, one lie?” There’s a playful tone to her voice as her lips morph to match his smirk.

“Oh, absolutely. We’re going to need shots...” Dean leaves the table just as Sam returns, earning him a confused look from his younger brother, but continuing with his mission regardless.

Once the older brother returns to the chosen booth with a tray of pre-poured shots, Sam takes one look and decides he wants no part, taking his chance to work out how the hell to get home instead. Dean, however, eagerly sits across from his celebrity crush, rubbing his hands after placing the tray down gently enough not to spill any nectar.

“Who’s up first?” he asks with a smirk, taking a swig out of his whiskey glass, he looks up to be met with a matching expression on the actress’ face as she begins to speak.

“I only got to where I am because I have a godparent high up in the industry. I speak multiple languages, aaaaand… I’ve been approached for… naughty modelling.” She finishes with a wink.

Dean’s biology serves him no favours as he processes her last insinuation, shuffling to obscure himself better under the table as he chokes a little on his whiskey.

“Well- I- The last one has to be a truth, there’s no way you haven’t. I mean, look at you.” His words met with a modest blush on her cheeks as she laughs a little. “There’s no way you can speak another language, well maybe for a role, but not fluently, so I call bull. Then that leaves the last truth to be nepo baby.”

“Take a shot. Or two… do you want to do a shot per wrong answer?”

“What? No- how’d I get that wrong?!”

“I’m not a nepo baby, just… either extremely lucky or someone was trying to get in my pants. Like the photographer that wanted me to pose nude for him… when I lived in France and spoke the language every day. Because I speak French. Fluently.”

Dean’s jaw drops open, sighing before he shoots two glasses back without a word. Y/N giving an approving nod.

“Your turn.”

It’s safe to say… Dean sucks at two truths and a lie. Or at least he does when any truths he could say sound crazier than any lies, especially when he reminds himself that he needs to play along as Jensen. In fact, he gets so many wrong that the night begins to blur, her needing to collect the next tray of shots as he fails to coordinate his way to the bar. By the time Sam returns, Dean’s slumped over in the booth, words barely English as they slur, and then, darkness.

When Dean sees the world again, he’s back in the concrete confines of the bunker. His brain struggling to work overtime to get his bearings and put memories in chronological order. Through his bedroom door comes Sam, acting as if nothing was wrong.

“Sammy- what- how’d we get home?” Dean’s voice comes out hoarse and gravelly as he speaks, rubbing his head.

“What do you mean? I drove.”

“Drove from… another universe?”

Sam laughs. “What?”

Dean’s face drops. “I- I- We were in that other place again- that- Ackles and Pada- Padalinski.”

Sam shakes his head, muttering to himself as he walks away, waiting until he’s around the corner before checking the photos remain on his phone. His brother blacked out the corner of the bar booth, his celeb crush posing next to him after covering his face with lipstick kisses.

#supernatural x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #deanwinchester #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester #supernatural #supernaturalxreader

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zepskies · 1 year

Text

Never Say Goodbye - Part 10

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes – 18+)

AN: Bear in mind, season 2 aired/took place circa 2006, so references like iPods are going to be dated lol.

Word Count: 5,500 Warnings: M-rated chapter ahead—18+ only! Angst, smut, fluff, and feels. Oh yeah, and kidnapping.

Part 10: Worthy

In the months after John Winchester’s death, Sam and Dean spent even more time on the road than before. Hunting down the demon, as well as trying to find the Colt.

You helped them the best you could with research on their various cases. However, now that you had been promoted to Library Curator at the museum, you had even more access to scholarly research and ancient texts, but even less time on your hands.

If you were honest (and you weren’t), it was getting harder to balance your real job and Sam and Dean’s requests. But you knew if you said so, Dean would never ask you for help again. At the end of the day, it kept you connected to them. And you liked helping out.

The next time the brothers came home marked a few months shy of two years since you’d met Dean. When they were a day’s drive away, he called you to ask you something he’d never asked before…

He wanted to take you out to dinner.

You had cooked for him before. He had cooked for you. You two had ordered in and gone to grab dinner with Sam in tow. But in almost two years, you and Dean had never gone on an actual dinner date, getting dressed up, just the two of you.

Needless to say, you were very excited…but you also had no idea what to wear.

Dean had seen you in the professional blouses, slacks, and skirts you wore for work. He’d seen you in ratty old college shirts and yoga pants while slurping ramen noodles from a plastic cup. He’d also seen you in nothing but one of his old buttoned-down shirts, and then, in nothing at all.

But he’d never seen you dressed to kill. That wasn’t to say you couldn’t pull it off, because you most certainly could. It had just…been a while.

So you dove into the shadowy recesses of your closet and searched for something you knew he hadn’t seen before. And you might’ve gone to the mall and bought a couple new pieces of lingerie, just in case the night went really well.

You were grateful Dean gave you a full day’s notice. It gave you the time to mentally prepare, but you still had to call him again to verify a few things.

“Okay, but where are we going?” you asked. “Casual dressy or dressy, dressy?”

Dean chuckled. “I have no idea what that means.”

He sounded tired to you, but the playful note in his voice still made you smile.

“It means just tell me where we’re going,” you said with a laugh.

“Nope,” he refused. “But here’s what I can do for you. I’ll be leaving the leather jacket at home this time.”

You tapped your chin thoughtfully. “Okay. That’s something, at least. Man, you really are the worst with these little guessing games.”

“I think you mean the best,” he joked. “Remember, I’ll be there by seven tomorrow.”

You let out an annoyed huff. “I hate you.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

He was still laughing when you hung up on him. You now had a plan though.

The next day was a Friday. You were able to get off work right at five, but that still only gave you two hours to shower and fix yourself up. Not nearly enough time, you lamented, but you made it work.

Your dad, blessedly, was working late again. So you had the house to yourself as you played your music loudly and danced to the beat while you finished up your makeup.

Then around seven, a knock sounded at the front door. Wow, he’s actually on time.

You swallowed a small swell of nerves in your throat. Stop being silly, you told yourself. And you were careful in your heels on your way down the stairs. You checked yourself real quick in the mirror, just to make sure your hair and everything else was in place. Then you looked into the door’s peephole.

With a smile, you unlocked and opened the door. Dean was there to greet you with a familiar grin, and then his eyes went wide at the sight of you. You crossed your arms and leaned on the door frame.

“We’re all stocked up on Girl Scout cookies, thanks,” you teased. Dean’s grin kicked up into a smirk.

“I’m not here to sell you anything, sweetheart,” he said. His hot gaze took you in—from your softly curled hair to your dark red lipstick, to the black suede dress that clung to your every curve and fell to mid-thigh, and finally down to your scarlet red heels. Then his eyes traveled all the way back up to yours.

“But I’ll bet you could get me to sell my soul with just those heels,” he said.

Your brain stuttered to a halt. You couldn’t help but blush at the flirtatious depths in his voice, overlayed with a fine layer of charm. It didn’t take much for Dean to turn it on, but when he did, you could guess how many panty-dropping one liners he’d had in his arsenal before he met you.

And he’d cleaned up nicely himself. True to his word, he’d forgone his typical leather jacket (though you were fond of it) for a solid black jacket. He’d paired it with a charcoal gray button-down and some dark wash jeans. (You suspected that Sam had given some pointers for this ensemble.)

His familiar pendant still hung from his neck though, along with his mom’s ring on his right hand. He was still Dean, but he looked good enough to eat.

His smirk deepened, and you realized he’d likely heard that thought.

Damn it.

You hadn’t seen him in a long time, so you forgot you’d have to pull your thoughts back from the soul bond sometimes. Right now though, it was all you could do to stop from dragging him into the house and kissing him senseless.

Dean shook you out of your thoughts when his hands found the curve of your waist. You looked up at him, holding onto the edges of his jacket.

“Sam’s not joining us for dinner?” you asked innocently, while knowing full well he wasn’t. Dean leaned down to brush his lips against your cheek, down to your neck where he caught the pleasant, sexy scent of your perfume. He felt you shudder a bit at the sensation of his lips across your skin.

“Nope. It’s adults only tonight,” he said. Pressed against him as you were, you felt the reverberation of his voice in your chest. It was a very pleasant sensation that pooled warmth in your lower belly, and down between your legs.

Dean came back to your lips, letting his ghost over yours. He didn’t want to ruin that pretty red lipstick (but he also really, really did).

You played into it; your smile brushed against his lips while your fingers dragged down his chest. “Then, maybe you should take me…”

You shifted on your feet, letting your thigh graze between his legs. You felt his fingers dig into the small of your back, and you reached back to grab his hand and unwrap his arms from your body.

“…To this mystery restaurant,” you said. “‘Cause I’m really freakin’ hungry.”

You flashed him a smile and slipped between him and the front door. You tossed him your house keys so he could lock it. As you walked down the driveway toward the Impala, you felt his disbelief, a lance of annoyance, but also his amusement. And a hot flare of desire while he watched you walk away from him.

You crossed your arms again and leaned against the passenger door of the Impala while you waited for Dean. He locked the front door and returned to the Impala while pointing a finger at you.

“You play too much,” he said. Your smile deepened.

As it turned out, he didn’t take you to the most expensive restaurant in town, or just to the local diner either. It was a nice Columbian steakhouse that ended up being the perfect place for both of you: a cozy atmosphere with Latin music, a historically Columbian-owned restaurant, and an interesting culture of food for you to enjoy—and a series of revolving smoked meats for Dean.

You noticed though, that while your boyfriend was enthusiastic about the food, he still seemed off somehow. His smiles didn’t always meet his eyes, and while he looked great, he also looked tired. He didn’t have 100% of his usual swagger going on, and that was enough cause for concern. From what Sam had told you, Dean had been doing better in working through their father’s death.

“Dean.” You laid a hand on his knee while he put yet another cheese bun into his mouth. You earned his attention regardless. “You okay? You seem…I don’t know. Tired.”

He shook his head and thankfully answered after he swallowed. “Nah, just a long drive. What, you’re not having fun?”

You smiled. “No, I am. I just want to make sure you’re okay, that’s all.”

Dean smiled back. “I’m good, baby.”

But you could tell he was hiding something—from the bond, and from you. You frowned at him.

“Dean, we’ve been over this,” you said in a quiet, but firm voice. “You don’t have to lie to me. Whatever it is, I can handle it. You can trust me.”

After a moment, Dean’s pleasant expression faded. A more genuine, rueful smile overtook his features. He took your hand from his knee and pressed it to his lips. He looked down for a few seconds, just thinking, and you gave him the time he needed to do it.

He appreciated that about you. Though you were a curious person by nature, and stubborn about it, in moments like this you never rushed him. You gave him room to breathe.

“Do you know what a djinn is?” he asked.

You blinked at him in curiosity. That wasn’t at all what you’d expected him to say.

“Yeah. I mean, djinn, genies—they’re all over Middle Eastern mythology,” you said, and with a more teasing smile, “And not just in Aladdin.”

Dean inclined his head. “Very good, Professor.”

“I’m guessing they’re real too?” you asked.

“Yeah, nasty sombitches,” he confirmed. He explained that with just one touch, a djinn could propel you into a fantasy of your own making. A dream world, where you can have the life you’ve always dreamed of—at the price of getting your blood sucked dry in the real world.

You grimaced. “Ech. Sounds like a party.”

“Yeah, it’s freakin’ Disneyland,” Dean quipped.

“I’m assuming you and Sam ran into a djinn?” you said.

Dean nodded. His gaze fell away from you as his thoughts drifted back to that world. That place where his family was more or less whole. Where his mom was still alive, and his family had never been sucked into hunting. Where Dean had met you while on a road trip with his dad and married you a year later. Where his little brother had become a lawyer and Dean a firefighter.

His father had died too soon in that world too, but it hadn’t been a gruesome, lonely death caused by a demon. The only real obstacle in that perfect world had been that he’d drifted away from his little brother. They didn’t have a great relationship in that world, but it wasn’t anything that they couldn’t overcome with a few beers and a couple of heart-to-hearts in the Impala.

But it hadn’t been real.

Dean explained all of this to you over dessert, and you listened with rapt attention. You felt all the emotions he couldn’t readily express.

“I saw what my life could’ve been like,” he admitted. “And I wanted it, more than anything.”

“But this is what’s real, and you chose it,” you said. “That’s what matters.”

Dean didn’t look convinced. You were grateful that he shared this with you, but you could also tell that this had been plaguing his mind. You also didn’t want him to have to wallow in it anymore. What you wanted was to help perk him up, or distract him somehow…

So when he dipped his spoon into the large chocolate brownie in front of him, you parried his spoon with yours and stole his scoop. He looked up at you with raised, incredulous brows.

“What just happened here?” he asked.

You shrugged, smiling as you licked your spoon clean. Dean’s lips pressed together, but in the name of keeping the night pleasant, he decided to let it go.

Once again, he delved into the brownie. And once again, you took his piece with your own spoon, even taking a bit of vanilla ice cream with it.

“This is really good,” you said, humming in delight. “You should try some.”

Dean quirked his head at you. He didn’t know whether to be irritated or amused.

“I’m tryin’,” he wryly replied. With a purposeful hand, he wielded his spoon and took a nice corner piece. Sure enough, your spoon came in to intercept him. But his left hand closed around your wrist. His gaze flicked up to yours.

“You’re playin’ with fire here, sweetheart,” he warned. You went for your glass of wine with your free hand and took a sip.

“Am I?” you asked. “I thought we agreed to share.”

He leaned in close, until there were mere inches between your faces. “I don’t share food.”

You took his challenge for what it was, and you leaned in until your lips were nearly brushing his.

“Fine,” you said. Then you sat back and sipped at your wine again. You seemed to have no further interest in dessert, so Dean nodded to himself and raised the corner piece of brownie to his lips.

Only to have you snatch his spoon from his hand and take the bite yourself. You washed it down with some water this time. While Dean sat back in shock, you offered him a smile.

“This’s a great place. We should definitely come back here,” you said.

For a moment, all Dean could do was stare at his damn-near empty plate. When he gathered himself, he looked over at you and smiled dangerously.

“Yeah, we should,” he agreed.

You finished your wine while Dean paid for the meal. He wouldn’t accept your money even though you offered to pay half. He asked you out, so he should pay, he reasoned. (He also ordered an extra brownie to-go.)

Anticipation ran down your spine the longer it took to get back to the car. You could feel his silent simmer, but also his patience. You knew he wasn’t going to let you get away with teasing him, but you also knew he was waiting for the right moment. Most likely when you two had some real privacy.

But before you could open the passenger side door of the Impala, Dean’s hand stopped you. You let him maneuver you around and press you against the door, and you held onto his jacket for balance. You grinned when he bent down and claimed your lips with his own, demanding, sensuous, and greedy.

You clung to his arms as he basically devoured you in the restaurant’s parking lot. His hands were hot on your hips, then kneading your butt, pulling you flush against him as your fingers curled into his hair.

You hadn’t taken Dean for a PDA kind of guy; he was very private about who knew you were together. But then again, it wasn’t too often that you two went out in public, considering this was the first proper date you and Dean had ever been on.

“You’re in so much trouble,” he said against your lips, but the effect was kind of lost when you could feel his amusement and searing desire. You giggled against him.

“Okay,” you agreed. “I can deal with that.”

He pinched your butt, making you yelp and tighten your hand in his hair on reflex. He groaned into your mouth.

“Take me home,” you said. Dean nodded, but he was reluctant to let go of you. Eventually he withdrew his hands and opened the passenger side door for you.

First, you smoothed down his jacket and wiped away some of the lipstick from his mouth and chin with your thumb. His charming, full-watt Dean grin was back, and it warmed you up from the inside out.

That night, in your bed, you and Dean made up for months of separation. You were starved for his touch, and Dean realized that with no small measure of guilt.

He tried to focus on being here with you, but in the back of his mind, he still felt like he was somehow taking something from you when he made love to you. Like that hit and run you once accused him of.

This is what Dad warned me about, he couldn’t help but think.

You both laid on your bed together afterwards, dewy with sweat and a hand on your chest to calm your racing heart. But as great as it had been for you, you knew that Dean was distracted again.

The moment you heard him think about his father, it brought you back to that day in the hospital.

“I’m sorry I told you not to go after her a few years ago,” John had said.

But why? You sat up against the headboard, bringing the sheets up to cover yourself. Meanwhile, Dean was coming back from freshening up in the bathroom. He then started tinkering with your iPod and speaker on your nightstand. But he frowned while scrolling through most of the songs.

Ugh. Avril Lavigne. Really? You heard him think to himself. A smile threatened to curve your lips as he continued to grumble at your playlist. But eventually he settled on “Going to California” by Led Zeppelin. That was neutral ground you could both agree on.

“Dean,” you found yourself saying, before you could think about it. He joined you back in bed, sitting beside you.

“When I was fourteen, I remember it snowed the day of my mom’s funeral,” you continued. “I was standing there in the cemetery when it started. I was…well, a wreck. I looked up at the flurries, and I heard something.”

It’s not fair!

“I didn’t realize it then, but I think I was hearing you for the first time.” You looked over at Dean, and he met your gaze.

“Sam and I were carted off to Bobby’s a few times when we were kids,” he admitted. “It’s possible.”

You gathered your courage, and you asked the question you had been holding onto for almost a year.

“Did you ever…hear me? Before last year.”

Dean sensed that this was a leading question. You already knew something, or at least thought you did. He sighed.

You sat up straighter and faced him.

“Talk to me,” you implored. Dean hesitated, but after a moment, he answered.

“It was around seven…eight years ago now. I was working a case with my dad near your school. That university.”

You thought back, and it must’ve been when you were getting your bachelor’s degree. Dean explained that he was about twenty-three, making you twenty at the time. And he started to feel you, hear you. It freaked him the hell out.

“A killer dog nearly took my head off because…anyway, the point is, I figured out what it was,” he said.

“But you left,” you said, both hurt and angry. “Why the hell didn’t you reach out to me?”

“My dad told me something,” Dean said. “He said I shouldn’t bring you into my life if I couldn’t hang up my gun. You know what…he was right.”

Your mouth fell open in shock. “How can you say that?”

“Look at what’s happening,” he said. “I’m on the road with Sam tryin’ to hunt this demon, pulling you away from your job with research, dragging you out in the middle of the night because I’m on death’s door. It’s enough!”

You didn’t like the sharpness in his tone, or the stubborn look in his eyes. That was another thing you’d learned about Dean. When he got an idea of something in his head, a conviction, he wasn’t going to let it go in a hurry.

Too frustrated to remain in bed, Dean got up and started dressing. You watched him put on his underwear and jeans in disbelief. But you stole his gray dress shirt before he could put it on. He wasn’t about to leave you like this.

So you put on the shirt yourself and stood in his way.

“It’s not supposed to be like this,” he told you.

“Who says?” you challenged. “We’re doing what works for us.”

“That’s my point. It’s not working. And it’s not fair to you.”

“When have I ever asked for fair?” You wanted to know. You had never complained, never asked anything of him except for two things: to keep in touch with you, and not to lie to you.

“This WiFi connection goes both ways, remember?” he countered. “You can try hiding it all you want, but you hate this long-distance crap. Pretty soon you’re gonna start hating me…and shit. I wouldn’t blame you.”

You didn’t know what to make of that resigned look on his face, but it struck at your heart.

You hefted a sharp sigh. “Didn’t you say that this was just temporary? That after you and Sam killed the Yellow Eyed demon, then you could come home?”

“It took Dad our whole lives just to track Yellow Eyes down,” Dean said. “Then it killed him.”

So he was saying this could take his whole life too. Part of you knew that, but you didn’t want to accept the reality that you could be living half a life with him forever.

You didn’t realize it then, but Dean took your silence as a sign.

“Look, I get it,” he said, rubbing a hand over his face. “It’s not like we can just…cut the cord here. But I’d understand if you don’t want to keep doing this.”

For a moment, you stared at him uncomprehendingly. But if he’d just taken half a second to look at your face—to read the truth in your roiling emotions, he wouldn’t have kept running his mouth.

“Truth is, you deserve better than what I got to give,” he said. His hand raised to card through his hair, an anxious gesture. You knew in the way his eyes shifted away.

A tremor of disbelief and dismay coursed through you.

What he had to give.

A man who'd first offered his protection while barely even knowing you. Who comforted you when you needed him, and celebrated your achievements instead of belittling them. Who believed in you when you told him about working yourself up at the museum. Who empowered you to hold your ground, and speak up for yourself.

A man who'd rather be alone than keep hurting you.

“Baby,” you tried, grasping his arm. Still, he didn’t quite meet your gaze.

“I’ve gotta go,” he said.

You pushed him back with both hands on his bare chest when he tried to get around you. “Stop!”

He said your name in a sharp warning. You shook your head stubbornly.

“Do you want me out of your life?” you asked. “Is that really what you want?”

Dean finally looked down at you, his mouth pressed in a firm line, his brows crunched over his eyes…but he couldn’t answer you.

“Then stop it!” you said. “Just fucking stop it. I’m tired of hearing you think that you’re not good enough.”

Dean’s expression slackened.

“Stop lying to yourself,” you said sternly. “I don’t care what you think I want. Whatever ‘together’ means for us is what we’re going to do. Because you are worth it.”

That was your conviction. He'd been fighting for his family his entire life. And now for you, in a way. So the least you could do was fight for him.

“Yeah, it’s really fucking hard right now. On both of us,” you said with a nod. “But if you think I’m going to let go just because of that, then you don’t know me at all yet, Dean.”

Your frown solidified into a look of determination.

“But goddamn it, you’re gonna learn.”

His mouth fell open a bit, and his soft surprise gave way to shock when you rocked forward, taking his face between your hands. He accepted your hard kiss, the uncharacteristic way you demanded from him, claimed his lips and his tongue, and the frustrated pace of removing each other’s clothes again.

For once, you took control and pushed Dean down to the bed. He let you do it too. It was an electrifying turn on—to have your hands be firm instead of gentle, but still purposeful in how you touched him.

And you did. You straddled his lap, and between fierce kisses, you mapped out his body with your hands. He held you by your hips, but you soon pushed him down onto the bed. With wet, nipping kisses, you burned a path from his neck, down his chest and sternum, down the defined “V” between his hips.

His breathing deepened the further you went, because Christ had it been a long time since anyone but himself had touched him. He supposed you weren’t the only one starving.

Your lips grazed and nipped the inside of his thigh, getting ever closer to where you knew he wanted you. His hand raised to tangle in your hair, but you moved his hand away and trapped it onto the bed. Your challenging gaze met his, and Dean raised his brows.

No touching, unless I say so, you said through the bond. A smirk raised the corner of his lips.

Yes, ma’am, he replied, making you smile. You then renewed your attention to the task at hand. You settled between his legs lowered down, where the object of your focus was standing perfectly at attention. You let your lips graze his dick. Careful touches, and really, a bit teasing. Dean sucked in a breath when your hands joined your lips, just soft caresses along its length, underneath, over its sensitive head. It was both exactly what he wanted and nowhere near enough.

His hand fisted into the pillow behind his head and the comforter underneath him. Your name fell from his lips—both a prayer and a plea. He felt the shape of your smile in a kiss, pressed against his thigh.

I’ve got you, baby, you said. Finally, your lips descended on him and you took as much of his dick as you could into your mouth. Something between a moan and a grunt fell from Dean’s lips as you worked him over, with your hands joining your warm, wet mouth. He itched to touch you, but you were relentless and held his wrist down onto the bed.

With his free hand, he grabbed onto the headboard as his back arched involuntarily, but there was nowhere to go. You had him trapped, and he was exactly where he wanted to be.

But just when he felt that crest of pleasure nearing and thought he was going to see black on the edges of his vision, you let him go with a soft pop. You leaned your arms on his raised knees and wiped your mouth. You looked down at his incredulous face with a mischievous little smile.

Dean made a sound of both shock and frustration as he tried to catch his breath. His head hit the pillow while his hand went to his wildly beating heart.

“Well, that’s just rude,” he uttered. When he was able to speak, that is. You stifled a laugh and moved up to cover that hand on his chest with yours. He flinched, but you were able to offer apologetic kisses. He reluctantly accepted them.

“I’ll make it up to you,” you whispered against his lips. You took his hand and pressed a kiss to the inside of his palm, then brought it to your cheek. Despite the playful, annoyed suspicion in his eyes, he stroked your cheek with affection. He saw your game, and he begrudgingly admired it—and you.

Smiling, you sat back on his bare thighs and brought both of his hands to your body, grazing down your neck to cup your breasts. You sighed as his thumbs brushed over your pert nipples and kneaded the soft flesh.

“Is this for me, or for you?” he teased. You shot him a playful glare. For that, you lowered his hands further down your body and guided his hand to the very wet folds between your legs.

“I’m letting you touch me now,” was your cheeky reply.

Dean smirked, but he sat up and obliged, gathering your wetness with his fingers and stroking your clit with deliberate movements. You shuddered a breath as he slipped a long finger inside you, followed closely by another. All the while, his thumb drew wet circles around your sensitive clit and brought you to the edge of your release.

From that very first night together so long ago, he’d been learning how to play you like a five-string guitar. Tonight was no different, and despite how you’d edged him earlier, he had no qualms about making you come all over his hand.

Your fingers delved into his hair, and you mentally praised him while you caught your breath, resting your forehead on his shoulder. He held you to him as you shook. But after a few moments, he leaned back to look into your eyes.

Through your connection, you felt his playfulness grow and you just knew he was about to say something smartass. But right now, you were still in control. So you stopped his smart mouth with yours and claimed his lips with another deep kiss.

You slipped a hand between your bodies, and this time you took a firmer hold of his dick. It was still a bit wet from your earlier treatment, and you stroked him a few times. His grateful moans sounded in your ear as he gripped your arms tight. You closed your eyes for a second, inwardly preparing yourself, before you sheathed him inside you. You both breathed hard as you adjusted and settled on top of him.

He grabbed a fistful of your hair. “Fuck, baby—”

You nodded, soothing down his back. “I know. Damn, you feel so good.”

You pushed him back down again so you could find the right angle that would serve both of you. Then you started to move over him. Dean dropped his head hard against the bed. To help him out, you gave him something to grab onto and guided his hand to your hip. He squeezed the flesh there, hard enough to leave fingerprint bruises later, you were sure. But the brief pain was a good motivator—it let you know when he was close to his breaking point.

You reached down with your fingers to further part your folds and rub hot circles around your already sensitive clit again. You felt a flutter in your lower belly as that familiar, inexplicable thread of energy within you stuttered; the part of your soul that recognized its equal, its match. The bond hummed and grew hot and pulsing.

Finally, its warmth washed over you.

You gasped and grabbed ahold of Dean’s arms as you almost got lightheaded at the feeling. Dean was going through the same tumble of sensations as he uttered a strangled sound, spilling inside you.

But he had good reflexes; he steadied you, with his arms wrapping around your frame and holding you to him. He eased you over back onto the bed, and then slid out of you.

For a little while, neither of you spoke. The frenzy of your earlier argument had fueled what just happened, but now that tension had dissolved into a hard-won peace.

When he was able to move, Dean reached out to hold the side of your face. He tucked a loose, sweaty strand of hair behind your ear. Your smile for him was soft. You sensed he was thinking, searching for what he wanted to say. So again, you waited, slipping a discarded blanket over your naked body.

“Okay, I think I hear you,” Dean said. “I love you, you know that?”

Your smile grew. He’d repeated the words you confessed to him when he was in the hospital all those months ago. And it was the first time he’d said what he felt for you.

You held a hand by your ear. “What was that?”

Dean’s lips raised into a smirk, but his eyes were soft. He slid an arm underneath you to pull you against his side.

“I love you,” he said, “so damn much.”

“I love you too,” you replied, but not without some exasperation. All this craziness, just to finally get on the same page. You grabbed his face with one hand and squeezed his cheeks. “That's my point.”

You made a sound of frustration before you released him. Dean laughed a bit, closing his eyes. You enjoyed his more carefree smile as you rested against his chest.

This man, you thought, is damn lucky he’s adorable.

He cut into your thoughts dryly, Pretty sure that’s my line, sweetheart.

You rolled your eyes.

At least we made it through our first real fight, you said. In spectacular fashion, I might add.

Yeah, but you played dirty, said Dean.

You just smiled.

The next morning, you and Dean woke up after your dad had presumably left for work. You were grateful. It spared you from the awkwardness of a “morning after” in your father’s presence.

I really need to get my own place.

So you made coffee while Dean made some toast and eggs for breakfast. But he got a call just as he was plating the eggs.

“Yeah, Bobby,” he answered. The more your uncle spoke, the more serious Dean’s expression got. You sensed a flare of his panic and you turned to him in concern. The plate in his hand hit the table with a clatter.

“Where?” Dean said. His tone was sharp and worried. “I’m comin’ now.”

Dean ended the call and abandoned the food to grab his jacket. He explained before you could ask the predictable question.

“Sam went missing this morning on a coffee run,” Dean said. “When Bobby got to the diner to check on him, the whole place had been cleared out, except for the bodies of the brunch crowd.”

You gasped and raised a hand to your mouth in shock. “What happened to Sam?”

Dean’s face became grim and angry as he grabbed his wallet and keys.

“Bobby found sulfur all over the place. He thinks Yellow Eyes took him,” he said. “…I’ve gotta go.”

It was late fall, so you grabbed a coat from the rack and your purse. “I’m going with you.”

Dean halted at the doorway, and that stopped you short behind him. He turned around and gave you a firm look.

“No you’re not, damn it!” he said. “You’re staying here.”

“Are you kidding me?” you said. “The last time you faced this thing, it almost killed you!”

“You’ve got a job, remember?” he pointed out. You shook your head.

“It’s Saturday. I don’t have to be back to work until Monday, upon which I’ll take a couple of sick days if I need to.” Your words were both a warning and a promise. “Just let me help you find Sam. I’m handy with research. You know I can help!”

Dean didn’t like it. He had half a mind to keep arguing with you, but he really didn’t have time for this. He made a sound of aggravation and rubbed a hand over his face.

He then levied a finger at you. “You’re staying in the car. When we get there, you don’t argue with me. You do as I say, got it?”

You nodded. Normally you would take issue with being ordered by your boyfriend, but in the world of dark and evil things, you would follow Dean’s lead.

So you hid a triumphant smile as you locked up your house, then followed him to the Impala.

AN: Whew! Well, then lol. The reader finally gave Dean a piece of her mind (among other things). How'd you like their first date? 😉

Dean definitely gives me Joey vibes from Friends when it comes to sharing food. 😂

But as the chapter title implies, we also dug in a bit on how Dean sees himself vs. how his soulmate sees him.

So a lot of drama this time, but ending on another good ol' cliffhanger. AKA: Where the hell is Sam?

Next up, some action! Heading into 2.21: All Hell Breaks Loose (Pt. 1).

To keep reading: PART 11

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#What is and what should never be #dean x reader #dean x you #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female reader #spn season 2 #dean winchester x soulmate!reader #dean winchester x female!reader #dean x female reader #spn #spn fanfic #soulmate au #sam winchester #bobby singer #john winchester #2.20 #zepskies writes

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dwonfilm · 2 months

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Come hell or high water. | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Looming over the Winchesters and [Y/N] is the war between heaven and hell. Dean will ultimately be faced with a choice he’d never be able to make. What will happen?

This will be a multi-part story, not necessarily set in a specific season but around 4-5 (verging on 6 now) would be the best fit.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: angst, mentions of alcoholism, violence, sadness.

Mentions: Sam Winchester, Lucifer, Bobby Singer, Crowley, other made-up characters to further the plot.

Here’s Part IV if you haven’t read.

Flashbacks are in bold.

Part V:

It had been about a year since Lucifer had ruined Dean’s life. At least.. he thought it was a year. Honestly? He’d given up trying to keep track of time after a month. Frankly if Sam wasn’t keeping the tally on where or when or how.. Dean had no clue. Well.. that wasn’t the entire truth. There was one thing that he could keep track of and that was the alcohol cabinet. It ran out far more often over the course of the last year than it ever had. Sam tried, several times in fact, to get his brother to sober up. Every couple months like clockwork the younger Winchester would try to pick up more pieces of his older brother’s life. Today had just so happened to coincide with that schedule. Sam sighed, walking into the dank motel room that the brothers had been sharing for a few days. They’d been in Phoenix for a couple of days and once this case had come up, Sam knew it was gonna be hard. [Y/N] was from Arizona and having to face this state without her would be hard for them, of course more so for Dean. “Did you bring more whiskey?” Dean’s words were slurring together slightly, but it wasn’t anything that Sam wasn’t used to—there was hardly a day that went by where his older brother wasn’t drinking himself to the point of blacking out.

“Dean, you can’t help me hunt this thing if you’re shitfaced.” Sam again sighed, because as much as he meant that, he knew better than to come back without the booze. He’d tried that a couple of times during the first few months of her absence. Once in New Orleans and the other in Houston. Both times had resulted in fists being thrown. Louisiana was the time where the punch connected, Dean nailing his baby brother square in the jaw—apologizing for it immediately after. Texas had him shoving Sam into the wall and holding him there before breaking down into a fit of tears. “Mhm, yeah, the hell I can’t.” Again Dean’s words slurred into one another and he pulled his hand over his face. “Sammy.. I can’t. I can’t be here knowing that she isn’t with us.. I can’t be here knowing that and be sober. I promise you I’ll lay off on it next case.. please. I can’t do it here.” Dean sighed, his voice raspy and raw with emotion. It was the most sober sentence that he’d uttered in a long time. Sam moved across the room to the bed that was his brother’s for the time being and sat on the edge. Next to it on the nightstand was an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. “Dean I know this is hard but..” he paused, not wanting to push his brother but this isn’t healthy and at this rate he was killing his liver and quick. “..this isn’t what [Y/N] would want for you, man. She-“ Dean’s gaze shot upward and the bloodshot nature of his eyes was made clear.

“Don’t. Don’t use her for your own personal gain here.” Again his words sloshed together and Sam just looked at him. “My personal gain? Dean the only thing I’m trying to gain here is my brother not killing himself by drowning in alcohol. She wouldn’t want you killing yourself and making yourself more vulnerable to the shit we hunt day in and day out. I know she was your girlfriend, I know she was the love of your life but she was like my sister and I loved her too.” For so long Sam had buried his own grief, his own guilt for letting [Y/N] make that call and letting her leave, his sadness about not only losing someone he cared deeply for but living every single day to watch his brother killing himself slowly. “I promised her I’d take care of you, Dean.” Sam’s voice was just barely above a whisper. He’d expected his older brother to yell, to shove him off of the bed where they sat, to have yet another heated argument with Dean. What Sam wasn’t expecting however was the deep sigh and the shakiness of his brother’s voice when he did speak. “I know.. I’m sorry Sammy.” Dean’s voice was small, it was clear that they both had used the little bit of silence to begin crying. Another silence washed over the two brothers and it stayed like that for a number of minutes.

“I’m worried about you, Dean. I don’t say these things to make you feel shitty man, I just know she wouldn’t want this for you and I don’t want it either. Cas is working a lead that may be able to help us with getting her back, but right now we need to help these families. I’ve been going over some of these details in my head and I think it might be a witch.” Sam explained, but this only had Dean’s irritation return. “Great. We just had to come to Arizona and it just had to be a witch. Someone up there’s got a real sick sense of humor!” He shouted, looking up knowing that if the angels were still tuned in, they’d have heard him. Sam couldn’t help but sigh softly, it really seemed like the world was stacking the deck. However that was nothing new. “It’s late man, try to get some sleep. I’m gonna look some more and see if there’s something I missed—hell maybe I’m wrong.” It wasn’t likely that he was and both of them knew that. “Yeah, alright.” Sam stood up from the bed and moved over to the little table in the corner of the room. Dean reached into his bag, grabbing the same flannel he’d taken everywhere else. When it started to lose the smell of her, he’d spray it with her perfume. He’d just done so last week, so the smell was strong. Laying it between his arms he would slowly sink down to a laying position. Resting his head on part of the fabric and letting the exhaustion and drunkenness take him to sleep.

It was summer, they’d had a surprisingly quiet week. Sam was at Stanford and so the only person that Dean had except for his dad was [Y/N]. They were laid on Baby’s hood, the night slowly enveloping the daytime sky. It was a good week too, they hadn’t really fought much. Right now they’re just enjoying each other’s company and gazing up at the stars. “I think it’s so funny, we’re so small physically in the world and yet we alter it for the better almost every single day.” [Y/N] spoke softly, her [Y/E/C] eyes fixated upon the sunset overhead. Dean turned on his side to face her with a smirk upon his features. “Sweetheart we both know there’s nothing ‘little’ about me.” Dean replied, winking quickly at her. He was met with a smack to the shoulder while she chuckled softly. “Not what I meant, idiot.” She replied, turning her head to face him. Dean’s expression feigned hurt but he was smiling through the mock ‘offence’. His green eyes flicked upward for a moment to watch the sky darken. “I know, sometimes it feels like we should be welcomed into these towns with a party.” He spoke, sighing softly. “You mean like a hero’s welcome?” [Y/N] asked. Dean simply nodded. “I mean.. we probably should. If even half of the world knew what was really out there.. this entire planet would freak. People like us have been.. we’ve had our whole lives taken from us in a sense and yet we just.. keep going.” Now Dean turned his attention back to [Y/N]. “You mean to tell me you’d wanna be normal?” He asked, quirking his brow. She sighed before looking back up to the sky. “I don’t know.. I was never given the chance to know what normal looked like—this is all I’ve ever known.”

Things got quiet for a little while but Dean’s eyes kept finding their way over to [Y/N]. “If you have a question, you can just ask.” She spoke softly, not moving her gaze from the stars that were now making their appearance in the sky. He never knew how she did that—just knew what he was thinking in a way that wasn’t invasive or supernatural. She just.. knew him. “Did you.. did you think about hanging it up before you met me? After.. your dad?” Dean’s tone was soft, he didn’t bring up [Y/N]’s father much because it was obviously a sensitive subject. She released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding and slowly looked over to meet his gaze. “Did the thought cross my mind? Sure. I was younger, you know probably could’ve scammed my way into some college.” She sighed. “I also was distraught and sad and not thinking with much clarity. By the time you and your dad showed up, I was already convincing myself to look for work. Maybe fate brought you to me.” [Y/N] smiled as she reached over towards Dean, her hand gently cupping his face. She knew he was in his head too much, probably trying to blame himself for keeping her from a ‘normal’ life. She leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

Dean had woken up as her lips touched his, that was a memory that he’d forgotten he had. Sighing, he squeezed his eyes closed to get rid of the tears he knew had built up quickly. Rolling over he looked at the clock. 7:45AM. Turning around he saw that at some point Sam had gone to bed. There was no way he was going back to sleep now nor did he want to, so he opted to take a shower. There was the beginnings of a headache coming on, because for the first time in.. god knows how long he’d actually taken a break in drinking alcohol. Time had gotten away from him until he heard knocking on the bathroom door. “Hey man, leave some hot water for me.” Sam spoke before walking back to the table to get back to work. After a couple minutes Dean emerged from the bathroom and took a glance at the clock. 8:45AM. He turned towards his younger brother to see him eating, a breakfast burrito on the opposite side of the table for him. “Thanks.” He spoke up before sitting in the other chair and unwrapping the food. “No problem.” He responded before taking a bite of his own food, immediately after leaning closer to his screen. “So, unfortunately, I was right. This is definitely a witch.” Sam said, using his touchpad to scroll further down on whatever he was reading. Dean groaned before taking his first bite of the burrito. While he ate, Sam went over the details of the case and where they’d have to go in order to get more answers.

They’d found the witch, who was killing people for their hearts—collecting them to use in some kind of dark spell to grant her and her coven immortality and power. Sam and Dean had located her home after noticing a pattern with where the bodies had been found by police. This house had a storm cellar and it was likely that she was taking her victims down there to extract their hearts. Despite keeping quiet, somehow the witch had been alerted to their presence. “Sam and Dean Winchester. I should’ve known you’d be on my trail.” She spoke, turning away from the woman who she’d kidnapped. “Yeah well, if you know who we are you should know this little killing spree you’re on is finished.” Dean spoke, his gun aimed at the witch. Sam had his gun aimed too and the witch turned fully to face the brothers. “Is that so?” She asked, an eery smile upon her lips. “We can spare the song and dance cause no one’s interested.” Dean spoke up again. It was clear that his nerves were at the end of their rope. Sam didn’t necessarily disagree with his brother but the tension was getting worse. “I mean, we could.. but then I couldn’t mention the fact that I have very powerful friends.” She continued. “Why would we care who your friends are?” Sam asked, confused that this was the plan to try and get them to spare her life. “I have a spell for immortality and power growth, doesn’t that make you think about what other powerful spells my coven possesses? Ones that could maybe, free trapped people?” She continued and suddenly it clicked in Sam’s brain. “Don’t.” He warned the witch.

Dean quirked a brow but didn’t turn or move, keeping his eyes and his aim on the witch. “What? You don’t want to help your brother?” She asked, the younger Winchester getting increasingly irritated. “What are you talking about?” Dean asked, which caused Sam to groan. This is exactly what he wanted to avoid. “People talk, people whisper. I’ve heard all sorts of things about you two—two who used to be three.” Dean’s stomach twisted in knots. It was clear what she’d been hinting at now and it left a bittersweet taste in his mouth. Sam’s protective instincts took over and he pushed his way in front of his brother. “That’s enough.” Sam warned, his nerves being pushed. However this witch knew that she was in a matter of living or dying and wasn’t going to give up so easy. “What? Hey, if you want to leave her suffer in the pits of hell.. that’s cold but I support it.” Dean winced at this statement. He spent so many nights restless, wondering what kinds of torture Lucifer was making [Y/N] endure—knowing full well that he loved the emotional side of things almost as much as the physical. “I said that’s enough.” Sam repeated, knowing that despite his older brother having a hatred for witches, he’d very likely do anything to free [Y/N]. “You think I’m just trying to keep myself alive, but like I said I know lots of powerful witches. There’s a spell out there that can help. You just have to come back with me. I help you, you help me. We’ll get [Y/N] and—“ Suddenly the witch dropped to the ground, dead. Sam had heard enough and once her name was spoken it was the final straw. Dean moved to free the girl who had almost been another victim, getting her out of there.

Six months later.

Fort Wayne, Indiana—the boys had just finished a hunt. Vamps nest was completely wiped out. After cleaning up, Sam basically forced Dean to go to the local bar. Not because he wanted anything from his brother but he knew that today marked a year and a half since [Y/N] was forced to go to hell alongside Lucifer. Staying in the motel room would only mean that Dean would get too in his head. Sam was hoping that the music and the pool alongside a bit of alcohol would be enough to keep his mind at bay, at least for a little while. Dean sat in a booth sipping his beer while Sam had gone for refills. There was a blonde who’d been eyeing Dean every so often, clearly interested in something. Seeing that he was alone she figured it was the best time to approach him. Confidently she walked over to the table, swaying her hips just a bit with each step. Once she reached the booth she paused, seeing if Dean would react in any way to her presence. About a minute went by and he hadn’t said anything, hadn’t even turned his head to look in her direction. She cleared her throat which broke Dean from his daze. “Can I help you?” He asked flatly, looking up at the woman for a brief few seconds before gazing forward again. “I was just wondering if I could join you, you seem lonely over here.” She tucked some of her blonde hair behind her ear. “I’ll pass.” He stated plainly, hoping that Sam would be back any moment. It was clear her confidence took a blow but she was trying to remain determined. “C’mon.. I’ll get you a refill. What would it hurt to get to know one another?” She continued and it looked like Dean was about to snap but Sam finally approached the booth. “My brother said no, so, go back to whatever you were doing.”

Scoffing the blonde turned on her heel and walked back to her table and friends. Sam slid the fresh beer over towards his brother and sighed before sitting down. “Sorry, I never thought about that.” He spoke up, lifting the glass bottle to his lips. “About what?” Dean asked, but then he clued in. “It’s fine. I never thought about the possibility either. Usually..” Now it was the older brother’s turn to sigh. Usually [Y/N] would either scare the girls off altogether, making it obvious she and Dean were an item or she’d tell them off directly—hell she’d even fist fought a couple. Sam felt bad and in this moment was questioning whether dragging Dean out was doing more harm than good. He watched as the eldest of the two took a swig of the beer he’d been handed. Time ticked, a few minutes of silence between the brothers where the noises of the bar took hold. Suddenly Sam’s phone rang, so he flipped it open to answer the call. “Hey Bobby, what’s up?” He spoke, Dean’s mind having him only paying half attention. It had been several minutes since his brother spoke and that finally had Dean’s full attention. “What is it?” He asked, the expression on his younger brother’s face unreadable. “Yeah that was Dean, he’s with me.” Sam replied, to Bobby, with Dean leaning forward to attempt to hear whatever the conversation was about but he the table stopped him from getting too close. “Sam.” Dean said sternly, trying to get the information. He held up one finger to try and get his brother to wait. “Yeah, alright. We’ll be on our way. Bye.” Sam closed his phone and looked at his brother but the expression was still blank.

“Sam what’s going on?” Dean’s tone laced with worry, confusion and a couple other emotions. “We need to go to Bobby’s—now.” He replied before standing up and beginning to walk towards the door. Blinking a bit, the older of the two was still in a sort of a daze. “Dean! Come on!” Sam called out, which had his brother sliding out the booth and quickly catching up to his younger brother. They walked to the impala and Sam got in the driver’s side, leaving Dean to get into the passenger seat. Flicking his wrist now, Baby’s engine purred to life and the younger Winchester pulled out of the parking space and onto the road. First they had to stop at the motel to grab their stuff and check out. Sam took the duty of loading up their things while he gave Dean the key to return to the office. He’d ran the key back and thanked them for the room before returning to Sam who was just closing the trunk. “Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Dean asked, resting his forearms on Baby’s roof. Sam was double checking that he had everything before closing the door to the room. “Sam!” He exclaimed, causing the taller of them to turn towards his brother. “What Dean?!” His mind had been racing ever since he hung up from the call with Bobby. “Are you gonna clue me in? Why do we need to rush to Bobby’s?” Sam knew his brother was right to ask, it wasn’t like him to keep things from his older brother but it wasn’t his call—he also wasn’t sure on things. Hell Bobby wasn’t sure either. “I.. I’m not sure if it’s something and Bobby asked me to just get there, with you, as fast as we can.” He explained, fidgeting with the keys to the impala in his hand.

Dean was confused, searching his younger brother’s eyes for any kind of hint as to what was so important. He wanted to argue, wanted to push for more information but at the end of the day he trusted Bobby. “Okay.” He said, pulling on the handle and getting into the passenger seat. “Okay.” Sam mirrored, slipping into the drivers side yet again and backing out from the motel and taking off down the road. Sioux Falls was their destination and if they could make it without any stops that would be best. Dean’s mind was racing—it could be so many different things. They had so much going on that it was hard to pinpoint what issue Bobby had cracked or what he was getting close to cracking. Man their lives were a mess, a chaotic and insane mess that most humans would never be able to grasp. Sam had a firm grip on the wheel as he drove, which he’d been doing most of the time over the last year and a half. Often times Dean had too much whiskey in his system and honestly, his older brother wasn’t putting up much of a fight about it. When it came time to drive to a different state, Dean was close to the point of blacking out anyway. Most drives during this time was Sam being alone with his thoughts while Dean passed out and slept. Slept until a nightmare woke him up, or sometimes worse, a dream that felt so real that Dean forgot [Y/N] was gone. Those hit him the hardest, the realization that she was in hell along with the sobriety like an 18 wheeler running him down. Nightmares were a toss up. It was either stress and trauma from his own time in hell or it was imagining what kind of suffering that [Y/N] was being forced to endure. Sam wished he could do more, but all he could do was offer moral support and watch.

It was almost two days later by the time that Sam and Dean were pulling into Bobby’s yard. Neither of the brothers could pinpoint where it came from, or when, but their anxiety was piqued. Neither of them really knew what they were walking into but both of them basically sprinted up the steps and knocked once before walking into the house. “Hello boys.” Sam and Dean both wide eyed when they saw Crowley sitting in the living room. “W-what are you doing here?” Sam asked, Dean wasting no time and drawing his gun. “Where’s Bobby?” Dean demanded, but his question was answered immediately after when the older man walked in with a couple of books. “Dammit, boy. Put that thing away.” Bobby spoke to Dean, which had a look of confusion cross the eldest Winchester’s face. “What?” He asked, looking at Singer. “Put the goddamn gun away if you wanna get down to it. We don’t got much time.” Bobby replied, flipping through the pages of one of the books he’d brought in. “What does Crowley have to do with things?” Sam asked, to which the King of Hell laughed. His gaze shifting between both of the brothers before speaking. “Well I’m here to help you lot bust [Y/N] out of Hell.”

Author’s note: Hi! Sorry if the chapters are getting shorter, I can’t tell, but I feel like the story is still being told sufficiently. I still haven’t decided how many parts this will be but I know for the most part where I’m taking it but just wanted to add that in—I feel like the first couple chapters were longer. I guess the lengths just vary with what I’m trying to convey. Hope you guys enjoy! 😊

• —– ٠ tag list: @roseblue373 @mrsjenniferwinchester ✤ ٠ —– • ·

#dean winchester #dean x reader #fanfic #supernatural #dean winchester imagines #spn #spn imagines #dean winchester x reader #fanfics

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natisideas · 2 months

Text

This could be the end of everything.

This was never meant to happen, at all. The hunt was going so well, at least that's what you had hoped. It was just a normal hunt gone wrong. "[Y/N] please be okay. You're gonna be okay." Sam cried as he was holding you in his arms. "I never meant to hurt you baby. Never." He whimpered. "I-i know honey, i-i'll be okay. I promise." You spoke choking on your blood.

"Sammy?" You knew that familiar deep voice. It was Dean. "Sammy!" He repeated himself. "In here, Dean!" Sam yelled trying to hold back his tears.

"Sammy what's going o-" Dean was cut off by seeing the way you were faintly breathing in Sammy's arms. "What happened Sammy?" He asked, trying not to panic.

"I-i don't know, I turned around for 2 seconds and I turned back around and she was on the floor just bleeding." He said trying not to panic.

"Okay, it's okay [Y/N]. You'll be okay." "Here just put this on your wound. We'll get you to a hospital." Dean spoke while he held the piece of cloth on your wound.

Sam picked you up carefully trying not to hurt you. They eventually put you in the back seat and return to the front.

"You're gonna be okay. Just try and hold on baby." Sammy spoke looking at you through the rear view mirror.

"Sammy. I-it hurts." You spoke out. "I know honey. I know."

He hated that he had to see you like this. Especially when he's the one who got you into hunting. Sure, you knew about it. But, you never actually thought about hunting. You're dad was a hunter eventually, that's what got him killed.

That's what made you not want to hunt. It hurt like hell because your dad was the only thing you had left to call family. That was until, Sam and Dean Winchester.

"We're here hurry up." Dean spoke getting out the car and opening the back door to his car to slowly pick you up.

They rushed inside, and asked for a doctor. Eventually, you made it into a hospital room and were resting.

"Sam and Dean Winchester?" Spoke a female voice. "Uh yes, that's us." They spoke in unison. "Okay um, I'm not sure how to say this." "What's going on?" Asked Sam in a worrisome voice. "She's not doing well. She's lost a lot of blood. Her chances of survival are very very slim." "She'll have to be hospitalized until she recovers. If she does that is." The doctor expressed. "Okay thank you." She nodded and walked away.

"Her chances of survival are very very slim." That one sentence replayed in his head over and over and over again. He couldn't lose his best friend. Not now. This is when he needed you the most. He felt angry. Angry that he got you into this in the first place.

"Dean?" Sam said. "Yeah Sammy?" He asked. "Do you think she'll make it?" Sammy asked. "Yeah. She's a strong woman. She'll make it." Dean told him. "I hope so."

It had been days. You still haven't gotten any better. Maybe that was a sign. A sign that It was time to let go. Sammy was just sitting there listening to the beeping monitor. Sam was scared he was soon going to see the flat line that he didn't want to see. That neither of them wanted to.

But, it was too late. The sound he wished he didn't have to hear, he did. You're line went flat. "CAN WE GET A DOCTOR IN HERE" "PLEASE HURRY." A few doctors and nurses came running in, rushing to try and save you. "Okay sir, calm down. We'll try everything we can!" Yelled the nurse. "We're going to need you to step outside real quick." Spoke the doctor. "no no no no. I won't! That's my girlfriend!" Sammy yelled out trying not to cry. "I understand that sir but for now, you should leave!"

He obliged. Sammy didn't have another choice but to stand there and walk away. As he was walking away he Heard something that broke his heart, forever.

"Time of death? 3:26 AM"

He cried out in tears when he sat out in the waiting area. Sammy had called Dean on the phone crying. Telling him about what happened. It broke Dean apart to hear his brother cry and being told that one of his best friends was dead.

"Sammy, are you okay?" Dean asked rushing in. Sam didn't say anything but stand there and cry. Dean rushed to him and hugged. They were both devastated. Emotional. They had lost their one thing that made them their special trio.

"It's going to be okay Sammy." Dean spoke holding back tears.

"Dean, This could be the end of everything."

#sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x plus size reader #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #misha collins #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #angst #Spotify

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reigningqueenofwords · 25 days

Text

Minecraft and a Winchester

Pairing: Dean x Reader Word count: 1,645

Read on AO3

You were currently laying on your stomach on your bed, legs bent, and crossed at the ankles. Your eyes were fixated on the screen across from you. You’d found a used XBox for extremely cheap online, and it had come with a few games. Need for Speed, Left 4 Dead, and Minecraft. You had enough blood and gore hunting, so you opted to put Left 4 Dead to the side for the time being. Minecraft caught your attention because it looked like something that you could zone out and play. It didn’t require much, or at least that’s what you were guessing. You never guessed that you would get hooked, let alone so quickly.

You were, though.

Dean walked in your room, watching you for a moment. “What the hell are you playing?” He asked.

Glancing over your shoulder for a minute, you wondered how long he had been standing there. “Minecraft.” You said simply, chopping down another tree.

“And what’s the point? All I see is a bunch of blocks and you hitting things. Boring things.” He pointed out.

You let out a sigh and sat up. Patting the bed next to you, you figured he’d end up just making fun or you forever, but could at least show him. “I’m not sure how to explain the point. I mean, I’m not on adventure or anything. I could change the settings and monsters would attack sometimes. I’m just messing around. You gather supplies, build things.” You told him.

He raised his eyebrow at you and sat down on the floor next to your bed. “Here.” You said after you exited your game and created a new one for him. “You try.” He hesitated for a moment, but looking at your smile, he gave in.

“Let’s see what this is all about.” He said, kicking off his shoes and getting comfortable. You watched him, seeing his profile. The only time you really saw him peaceful was in his sleep. Part of you hoped that this would be something else he could do to get his mind off things. Even if he found it stupid. Sitting back against the headboard, you crossed your legs at the ankle. Pulling out a book from your night stand, you pretended to read. Every now and then you’d actually glance down and read a couple lines, however. You were content just watching him over the top of your book. You held back a chuckle when you saw a look of frustration on his face. “Problem, Dean?” Your voice was teasing.

Pausing it, he shot you a look. “I need to make a damn bed, but I can’t figure out what the hell I need. What is that white stuff?” He pointed to the screen.

You gave him an amused glance. “That would be wool, babe.” You teased. Realizing what you said, you turned a light pink. “You kill sheep for them. Cows for leather. You get the idea.” Being under his gaze made you shift slightly. “I’m going to get us something to drink.” Scooting off the bed, you adjusted your shorts slightly.

Hurrying out of the room, you ran into Sam. “Have you seen Dean?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s in my room. What’s up?” Your hands were on your hips.

“Do I even want to know what you guys are up to?” He smirked, making your face even redder.

“He’s playing Minecraft on my XBox. Perv.” You shot back. “Anyways, I’m going to get us a drink. Go on and bug him.” He knew that you were joking with him, and he ruffled your hair with his hand. Chuckling, you pushed his hand off.

You walked past him, trying to fix your hair. You didn’t care that it looked messy, but if it got too bad, you’d be untangling it for ages. Your bare feet moved towards the kitchen as you willed your cheeks to cool off. Standing in front of the fridge, you enjoyed the cool air. You grabbed a couple beers and a bag of candy you had stashed behind some of Sam’s health foods. You knew that Dean would never look there. Smirking, you made your way back to your room.

Hearing the boys talking, you slowed your walking. “Are you honestly enjoying this game?” You heard Sam. Stopping right outside, you leaned against the wall.

“I don’t really care either way. I mean, I kinda get why she gets into it…but I wouldn’t go out of my way to play.” Dean replied. “It’s just nice getting to relax with her.” He admitted, making you smile.

“You got it bad.” Sam laughed. “Ow.” Just by that you knew that Dean had punched him in the arm. Shaking your head, he sighed. Deciding to save Dean, you gave it a second and then walked in.

Handing Dean a beer, you resumed your previous position. Sam just watched you guys. “Are you two done having a gab fest in my room? Or do I need to relocate to one of yours?” You teased, tossing a piece of candy at Dean’s head. “Preferably Sam’s.”

“Hey!” Dean said, swatting the air. “Where’d you get the candy?” He asked, grabbing the piece that you threw at him.

Grinning, you shook your head. “Like I’m giving that up.”

“And what do you mean that you’d prefer Sam’s room?”

“Dude. You don’t realize how much sound carries, do you?” You asked, sticking a lollipop in your mouth. “Between your porn, which is extremely fake, mind you, and the chicks you bring home- who are worse than the porn- I don’t know which is worse.” Sam choked on a laugh. “Which, I’d rather not talk about anymore. I’ve tried to block out those sounds.” You shrugged. “If you aren’t gonna play, gimme back my controller.” Your hand reached out for it.

He held it away from you. “No! I’m still playing.” He sounded like a big kid. “And you insulted my room.” He added, un pausing the game.

“Okay, I’m going to leave you guys to argue about the sounds that come out of Dean’s room and I’m going to go to a movie or something. Anything away from here.” Sam said, getting up. “I don’t want to be here when you guys recreate them.”

Your face turned bright red again. It was doubtful that Dean saw you as anything more than a friend, hell, a sister even. Sighing, you put the bag of candy on the night stand. The only thing you could hear in your room were the game, and you sucking on the lollipop.

After a few minutes, Dean broke the silence. “You don’t really hear all that much…do you?” He asked.

“Yeah, I do.” You replied quietly. “Too much.” Around your room you had a few pairs of headphones. This way, no matter what, you could block out the sounds.

“Does that bother you?”

Rolling your eyes, you shifted slightly. “No. Of course not. Hearing my friend get laid in the other room doesn’t bother me at all.” Your voice was dripping in sarcasm. “You’re a grown man. Sleep with whoever you want.”

Dean sighed. “That’s not what I meant, Y/N/N.”

“How the hell am I supposed to know what you mean? I’m not a mind reader.”

“I mean…does it bother you in general? To know that I’m sleeping with someone else?”

Your eyes widened. How were you supposed to answer that? His tone gave no indication as to what answer he was looking for. If you said ‘yes’, would that make things weird? If you said ‘no’, would you disappoint him? The question rolled over and over in your mind. “Yes.” You whispered.

Dean set the controller on the ground and moved. Your legs were shifted so one was over his lap, and the other was against his hip on the bed. “Why does that bother you?”

“Are you playing with me right now?” You snapped, hurt evident in your eyes. “Why else would it bother me? If you’re just in here to make fun of me, I think you should get out.” Your tone was firm, but hurt. Closing your eyes, you swallowed, willing your eyes not to water.

You felt Dean shift, and your legs were suddenly no longer on him. Listening for the door, you shifted to lay on your back more. You kept your eyes shut, a few tears falling down your cheeks. “I’m not playing with you.” Your eyes shot open at his voice. He was standing next to your bed, hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry you think that. I’m sorry that you think that I would do something like that. I just didn’t think you’d ever be interested in me.” He shrugged. Turning, he moved towards the door.

“Dean, wait.” You said. Getting off your back, you kneeled at the end of you bed. He walked over to you and you took his hand. “I’m sorry. I ju-it just sounded like you were trying to make fun of me.” You sighed playing with his fingers. “Stay with me? Only if you want to. We could keep playing this, or I have Need for Speed. Maybe a movie?” Your voice was hopeful. “I’m not asking for some promise of a relationship or anything, but let’s just see where this goes.”

Smiling, he kissed you. “I like that idea. How about we see how badly you suck at racing games?” He teased.

Feigning shock, you put your hand on your chest. “Are you challenging me, Winchester?”

“I most certainly am.”

The next morning when Sam came in, he found you with your head on Dean’s chest, controller on the floor, Dean resting against the headboard, his controller on his lap. Looking at the TV, he laughed when he saw the leader board. Y/N was in most of the slots.

#dean x reader #dean x reader oneshot

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queen-of-deans-booty · 8 days

Text

Paper Moon: Part One

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.7k

Warnings: canon angst and violence, extra angst

Summary: A case brings you back to someone you let go once before. Now, you have a decision to make: let her go again or kill her. Whatever option that will piss the Winchesters off, right?

Season Ten Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Supernatural. All credit goes to their respective owners. I love seeing any and all comments <3

You're turning the small room you dedicated to yourself into something you might be permanently in. Who knows how long you'll be like this or if it will last forever? If it does, then you're never sleeping in your shared room with Dean ever again. You've just got back from shopping so you're putting your new clothes away. The door to your room opens and you don't have to look to know who it is.

"Hi," he says.

"I was wondering when you were gonna come talk to me," you smirk and look at your husband.

"I heard the rumors. I wanted to know if it was true."

"If what was true?" You grab the small pile of folded pants and place them neatly into your dresser drawers. "That I finally knocked some sense into me and saw you for who you really are? A man who has Daddy issues, abandonment issues, and is an all-around-dick kind of a guy? Then yes, the rumors are true."

This isn't real, Dean. She's not herself. This isn't the real her. Don't let her know her words hurt.

Dean reminds himself that you're a shell of the woman he loves, so he takes a deep breath to calm himself.

"I remember everything." You grab two shirts and hang them in your closet. "I want to know if you meant what you said."

"You're gonna have to refresh my memory. I said a lot of things."

The smile on your face tells him you know exactly what he's talking about.

"You know what I'm talking about."

"No, I don't. Please remind me. What did I say?"

Dean hates that he has to repeat your words, but you're not going to make this easy on him.

"That I'm such a shitty person, husband, father. How our kids are happier without me in their life? Ring a bell?"

"Yeah, I knew what you were talking about," you giggle. "I just wanted to hear you say it." Dean glares at you which brings you joy. He has to remind himself yet again to not give you a reaction. That's all you're after. If he gives you that, he's only going to get hurt. You grab your new underwear and place them inside one of the drawers of your dresser. "Look, I meant every word. Everyone around you dies so that also makes you a shitty hunter." He has a stoic look on his face but you can see the tears in his eyes. "I'm not trying to be mean, I'm only stating facts."

You finish putting away your clothes and are about to pass by him to leave your room when he pulls something from his pocket. He holds the item in front of him so you both can see what it is.

"I found this in my room."

You look down at your shiny wedding ring that you put in his duffel bag a few days ago.

"Am I supposed to be on the floor in tears for throwing that away?"

"You don't have to be that dramatic, but a little emotion wouldn't hurt."

You step closer to Dean and slide your hands over his body starting at his stomach. You move your hands up his chest and your arms around his neck so you can pull him closer. You lean your face in closer to his seductively. He closes his eyes thinking you're going to kiss him but you move past his lips and to his ear.

"Listen closely because I'm only gonna say this once. Whatever feelings I've had for you are gone. They do not exist. You mean nothing to me, and when I say that, I fucking mean it. You could drop dead at this fucking second and I'd step over your body and move on with my life. Don't think for a second that I'd trade my life for yours because I do not love you. I'm not in love with you, I do not think about you, and you're the least of my concerns. Do with that what you will."

You shove him away from you and leave him to think about your words alone. Without you there to see him, he silently cries. He clenches his jaw to keep himself from full-on sobbing but the tears still stream down. He's not sure what happened to you or why you're like this, but hearing those words come from your mouth is gut-wrenching.

He forces that heartbreak down and wipes his face until it looks like he hasn't been crying. He leaves your room in search of his brother. Sam is in the library doing something on his laptop when Dean enters. They've been taking a break while Dean heals from his time as a demon, but enough is enough.

"Hey, I got you your fav--" Sam looks up and sees a look of hurt across Dean's face. "Are you okay?"

"Fine. Where are my kids? Where are my dogs?"

This is the part Sam's been dreading. He knew Dean would ask sooner or later, and he hadn't prepared a better answer for himself.

"I don't know," Sam winces.

"What the fuck do you mean, I don't know?"

"They're safe. That's all I know, okay?"

"Are you serious, Sam? You don't know where my kids are?!"

"Look, do you really want them around right now? Do you think they'd be safe with Y/N the way she is?"

Sam's right. Sam is always fucking right. If you speak to your own husband like that, imagine how you'd treat your own kids.

"You're right, but I'd still like to know where they are."

"Do you?" Sam raises his eyebrows. "What do you think Y/N would do if she knew where they were? She could use them against us. She knows we'd do anything to protect them. Right now, they're safe and that's all that matters."

God, he can be so fucking annoying sometimes.

Dean rolls his eyes and lets the topic go for now. He pulls out a chair and grabs the newspaper Sam was reading not too long ago. He comes across an article about a murder with the heart eaten right out of the chest.

"Hey, did you see this story?"

"Maybe it was an animal kill," Sam says and continues to type.

"It was three kills, and it was in the same town all within the last month."

"Yeah, you're right. We should call some guys and have them fix it."

"Good. Smart," Dean nods. "Or we could do it. We'd be in and out. It's a milk run."

"When is that ever the case for us," Sam sighs.

"Listen, I appreciate us hanging out and doing brother stuff together, but I need to work. I need this."

Sam thinks about his words and the situation before giving in.

"If things go sideways... I mean, like an inch, you gotta give me the heads-up."

"Done. You got my word."

"When do we leave?" Both brothers turn to see you in the archway between the war room and the library. "What? It's getting boring here." Sam and Dean aren't thrilled to bring you along on a hunt, but any hunt means there will be death. Death means there will be chaos. Chaos is exactly what you're craving right now. "I'm already packed and ready to go. I'll meet you in the car."

"This is going to be a long week," Dean sighs.

It takes an entire day to get to King's County, Washington which you weren't too fond of taking. Especially if you're locked inside with both brothers yapping in your ear the entire time. You get out of the car to stretch your legs when your stiff shirt scratches at your neck.

"Tell me why I'm wearing this shit?" you complain as you walk to the station.

You and the brothers are wearing dark brown slacks with a forest green shirt tucked underneath the waist of the pants. You look like forest rangers if you had to guess.

"Hey, if you want to hunt with us, that's fine. You gotta look the part so that means keep your mouth shut and let us do the talking," Dean snaps at you.

You three walk into the police station where the sheriff greets you. Dean hands over his badge while Sam simply flashes it. You stay behind them and let them do the talking.

"Gentleman and lady. We're damn glad to see you," the sheriff says and hands Dean his badge back. "You three must come up on stuff like this all the time."

"Oh yeah," Sam and Dean nod.

"Hell, I've seen raccoons in rec rooms and bears in swimming pools, but this? You tell me."

"Yeah," Dean nods. The sheriff looks at him expecting a story of something crazier and Dean blushes slightly under the spotlight. "Oh, you know, where do we start? Logging."

"Ice caps," Sam chimes in.

"Bitcoin... Obama."

The sheriff stares at him in suspicion, and you snicker at how dumb they're both being. Dean turns and glares at you while Sam changes the topic.

"You know what? Maybe you could walk us through the attacks. Any similarities or anything weird you noticed?"

"The only weird thing about them was how similar they were. Those folks were torn clean through with their hearts gone."

"Gone as in...?"

"Consumed, most likely."

"We're there any witnesses?"

"The first two attacks were really late at night, but the one at the bar had a ton of witnesses. You'd think with it being jam-packed, there would be more witnesses than Tommy."

"What did he see?" Dean asks.

"Honestly, not much. Tommy ain't exactly what we call a reliable witness, and he's telling anybody who'll listen he saw some girl go out back with Barker, and she got torn up, too."

"So, there was a second victim?"

"I doubt it because Tommy's a drunk. There's no body, no DNA, no blood trail, and nothing to suggest another victim." A deputy walks up to the sheriff and taps on his shoulder. "Give me one second."

"Hearts missing sounds wolfy to me," Dean says once the two officers are gone.

"Yeah. It's pretty brazen, even for a werewolf."

"Do you think it was the girl?"

"Let's find out."

Tommy is the only witness to have seen something, and you knew he was going to be at the bar where the last attack took place. It isn't hard to pick him out of a crowd of people. He looks disheveled like he hasn't taken a shower in weeks, and his teeth are stained from the many alcoholic drinks he's had. Sam and Dean immediately talk to him while you go to the bar counter to order yourself a drink.

Once you have your favorite drink in hand, you walk back over to the brothers who are in the middle of a conversation with Tommy.

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#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester fic #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester angst #supernatural #supernatural fic #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fanfic #supernatural angst #spn #supernatural series rewrite #supernatural season 10

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holylulusworld · 1 year

Text

Another dream (3)

Summary: The dream continues.

Pairing: Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader, Soldier Boy x Reader, Jensen Ackles x Reader, Beau Arlen x Reader

Warnings: language, naughty dreams, fantasies, fangirling, RPF, mentions of smut, almost violence.

A/N: No smut in this. We get a little plot in this.

<< Part 2

Dream a little dream… masterlist

“Come one, Samuel Winchester! The least you can do is give me your dick,” you complain loudly as Sam sits in your living room to the read yet another book about the supernatural.

“I want to go back home,” Sam retorts.

You snort.

“Oh yeah? Do you wanna know what happens if you and Dean go back to your world,” you push your chin out and purse your lips.

“Enlighten me!”

“Dean is going to die. Killed by a stupid vampire clown and you,” you chuckle darkly, “you are going to end up with a blurry wife, and a ridiculous wig when you grow old. If you want to go, go ahead! But Dean will stay here! I’ll not let him get killed, impaled by a clown-pire!”

“He’s my brother! And—” Sam frowns deeply. “Does he really die? How do you wanna know? Are you a witch?”

“I watched the fucking show, dude,” you grunt. “Now lemme get back to your dick…”

“Sweetheart, I’m home,” Dean casually strolls into your living room. “Sammy, I got a job.” Dean proudly exclaims. “I’m a mechanic now. I got it all. A nice home. No monsters. My brother. A sexy girl. A job. The only thing missing is my Baby…” He sighs deeply.

“Ackles got an Impala,” you clear your throat as Jensen and Soldier Boy follow Dean hot on his heels. “BOYS! You’re back!”

“We tried to find out how to send the guy in your bedroom back,” Jensen shrugs. “What was the talk about my car?”

“It’s my car, actor,” Dean barks, ready to fight with Jensen again. “I want it back.”

“Hmm…” you ponder while Jensen and Dean are ready to get handsy. “What if I dream of fucking you in Baby in front of my apartment.”

Dean stops in his tracks. Fist midair as he dips his head to look at you. “I’m not sure this will work,” Sam interjects.

“No, no…let her talk,” Dean drops his fist to sit next to you on the couch. “Do you think you can bring her over too?”

“I got Beau here, didn’t I? I only watch one episode and here we are…” you grin at Beau who didn’t say much since he ended up in your bedroom. He sits on the floor, staring out of your bedroom as he cannot leave it. Thanks to the curse, magic, or what the fuck is going on with your dreams. “Let’s have a Supernatural marathon. We need episodes with you and Baby and sex…”

“Count me in,” Dean grins. “I want my BABY!”

“Can you...” Beau finally speaks up, “bring my daughter here?”

“Uh-it only worked when I got naughty dreams but—” you bite your tongue. “We could try. I mean…I didn’t want to bring you here. I’m sorry. You were just so hot, and I got…”

“Horny,” Ben grunts. “We won’t share, buddy. If you want a girl, look somewhere else.”

“I can’t leave the bedroom, genius,” Beau talks back. “How’d you all get out of here? Dean, Jensen, and you can leave the apartment too.”

“We fucked like champions,” you glare at Soldier Boy. “What? It’s the only way.”

“That so?” Beau looks at Sam. “But the big guy over there said he never fucked her.”

“I-uh…we kinda…” Sam’s cheeks turn red as his brother slowly turns his head to look at him. “I thought it was a naughty dream and kinda went down on her. She sucked my dick and then…I realized it’s not a dream.”

“He wasn’t too bad,” you grin at Sam. “A pity he refuses to give me that dick. I’d like to help him leave the apartment. Well, his loss.”

“You mean I need to have sex with you to leave the bedroom?” Beau’s eyes drop to your exposed legs. “She took all of you?”

“Sometimes all of us at once,” Soldier Boy grins proudly. “She’s good at taking dick, buddy. All of her holes are golden.”

“Sir, you shouldn’t talk about a lady like that,” Beau points a finger at Ben. “This is…inappropriate.”

“It’s fine,” you wink at Ben. “Soldier Boy got a nasty tongue, but he makes it up with said skilled muscle most of the time.”

Ben’s eyes drop to your crotch. He darts his tongue out, teasingly licking his plump lips.

“She loves my mouth on her.”

“All you talk about is sex,” the newest addition to your weird bunch says. “What about the lives you left behind when she brought you here?”

“People always wanted me to save them,” Ben shrugs. “In this world, they don’t know me. I mean…they sometimes think I’m Ackles, but that’s not the same. I give them an autograph and move on.”

“What about the people dear to you?”

“I got my brother and—” Dean looks around the room. “I miss my friends, but this world gives me a chance to live the life I always wanted to. No monsters. No fighting to stay alive. No more losing people we love. I gave enough. It’s my time to get the good things in life.”

“This is my world so,” Jensen looks at you with darkened eyes. “I still go my life, career, and the people I love. Y/N is a nice addition.”

“Watch your tongue, actor boy,” the hunter warns. Dean glares at Jensen, still angry that he got the Impala. “I’ll be watching you.”

“I can still beat the shit out of you,” Jensen puffs his chest. “Come and get some if you are brave enough.”

“That ended well for you last time,” Sam sighs deeply as his brother and his fake twin are ready for another round of Ackles vs Winchester. “Jensen with all due respect, Dean is much stronger than you.”

“No fighting,” you point a finger at Jensen. “You know the rules. If you fight, no sex for you.”

“Not again,” Ben growls. He angrily balls his hands into fists, ready to keep them from fighting again. “One month was enough.”

“Y/N, can you please explain how I ended up here again? I’m still a little…I don’t know. Confused?” Beau asks as Jensen and Dean raise their fists. “Guys, maybe you can help too?”

“Uh-sure,” Dean drops his fist. “We told you before that Y/N dreamed of us having sex. One moment I was sound asleep, and the next I was standing in her bedroom.”

“Same,“ Jensen mutters.

“I was fighting some bank robber, and then I was in her bedroom.”

“So two of you were asleep, but you were awake,” Beau hums. “I was asleep too.”

“Same,” Sam adds.

“Ben, no lying,” you tut. “Tell us what you did.”

Ben pouts.

“Please, I need to know,” the sheriff softly asks. “We are all friends here, right?”

“Maybe I was a little high,” Ben sheepishly admits. “When I take the good stuff, it feels like I’m in a dream world. I just walked away from the bank robber and stepped inside her bedroom.”

“So, if the drugs count, we all were asleep when she got us here,” Beau concludes. “That’s a start. Now we only need to find out if she got special powers.”

“Why did we not think of this?” Jensen furrows his brows.

“We were busy screwing the life out of our girl,” Soldier Boy shrugs. “Who cares how we ended up here? I want to stay. If you all want to leave, go ahead. More pussy for me.”

“Stop with the crassness,” Beau warns now. “You can’t talk like that about Y/N. She’s not a piece of meat or a fleshlight you can use to get off.”

“You don’t even know her, sheriff,” Ben grins. “Not like I know her. She’s so warm and soft inside. I would kill to be inside her cunt.”

“Sick bastard.”

“Loser who can’t leave the bedroom,” Soldier Boy smirks darkly. “Aw, you didn’t get any yet. I bet you’ve got blue balls already.”

“ENOUGH!” you snap at Soldier Boy. “No sex for you for a week.”

He grunts.

“Two weeks.”

“Maybe I should go out there and find some other girl to—”

“Fine. Go ahead,” you get up from the couch and storm toward your bedroom. “But if you fuck some other bitch, never come back.” You slam the door shut behind you and lock it. “If anyone tries to get inside, I’ll stab you!”

“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you,” Dean mutters. “She’s our girl. Only because of her, we made it here. I like my new life.”

“Not cool,” Jensen huffs. “I knew you were trouble…”

Inside your bedroom, you curl into a ball on your bed. “Sorry,” Beau sighs deeply. “I shouldn’t have said a damn thing.”

“No, it was nice of you,” you give Beau a cracked smile. “I’m sorry that I brought you here. If only I knew how to send you back home.”

“Hmmm…maybe we can find a way together,” Beau gets up from the ground to sit on the bed next to you. “We just need to have a little patience.”

I swear, if that dude touches Y/N I’ll break your neck,” Dean growls at Ben. “It’s your damn fault she locked all of us out!”

“He was an ass.”

“Not helpful,” Jensen runs one hand down his face. “We are fighting for over four hours now. Can we just stop? Maybe we should apologize to Y/N and do something nice for her instead.”

“Fuck me,” Dean stares at the car parked in front of your apartment complex. “But we didn’t watch the show or anything.”

“Uh-it’s not the real one,” Jensen throws the keys to the Impala at Dean. She’s one of the cars we used on the show. Not the original, but the next best thing.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“She belongs to you, Dean. I was only the one bringing you…I mean my role to life. But you are him and-“

“Thank you,” the hunter grins. “Do you want to go for a ride?”

“Maybe you should go for a ride with Y/N,” Jensen jerks his head toward you carrying bags with groceries. “After we helped her carry the groceries inside.”

“Good plan…a very good plan…”

“Okay, what are we all doing in here,” Soldier Boy grumbles in the backseat of the Impala. He must share the backseat with Jensen and Beau. “And why can the sheriff now leave the bedroom.”

“We made sweet love, Soldier Guy,” Beau grins. “While you all were busy fighting each other, I spend time with Y/N. She’s a lovely woman and I worshipped her.”

“Can we go for that ride now?” You slap Dean’s thigh. “Come on, let her roar Dean. I wanna hear her purr for me…”

Part 4

Tags in reblog.

#Another dream (3)#Jensen Ackles #dean winchester #soldier boy #beau arlen #polygamy #dean winchester x reader #soldier boy x reader #jensen ackles x reader #beau arlen x reader

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dotlookstired · 4 days

Text

Supernatural/vampire chronicles crossover.

The town around the bunker had seen a series of strange disappearances lately, and Sam and Dean Winchester were determined to get to the bottom of it. Their investigation had led them to the local bar

They walked into the dimly lit bar, the air thick with the smell of alcohol and the sound of laughter and music. They settled at the bar counter, scanning the room for anything unusual. It didn’t take long for something to catch their eyes: two people they’d never seen in the town before, a small auburn-haired teen with strange mannerisms. At first glance, they thought the teen was a girl, but on closer inspection, they noticed the boyish features.

The teen was talking animatedly to a skinny young man who looked to be maybe in his late twenties and maybe a bit tipsy. “Why did you have to drink from that drunk guy? The night has only just begun and you're already tipsy Daniel,” the teen said to the young man.

“Well, at least my snack was a totally normal guy and not some teeth-for-a-face demon with black goop for blood. You're probably gonna get some sort of disease now. You've already got a stomach ache,” Daniel replied.

“Luckily, I didn't drink much. That thing tasted so bad; it had so many teeth. Nothing needs that many teeth! And that pitch-black blood kinda burned as it hit my tongue,” the boy said, with a shudder. The tipsy young man, Daniel, just nodded his head along as the teen continued rambling.

“Are you even listening, Daniel? That thing was scary. I'm scared; how are you not?” the auburn-haired boy asked, exasperation creeping into his voice.

“Well, Armand, I did spend a good portion of my human life dealing with you and all your nonsense and your sharp teeth. So maybe I'm just desensitized,” Sam and Dean exchanged a glance after eavesdropping. The boy - Armand - looked too young to be in a bar, and the conversation revealed a lot of information.

Armand had noticed them staring and read their minds; he knew the brothers were looking for something suspicious, and they suspected he and his fledgling were vampires, the cause of the recent missing human cases. Armand saw that they had killed vampires before; granted, they were really weak vampires, but it still scared him.

He knew they were eavesdropping and watching; there was no way for him to alert Daniel to the situation.

“These two are definitely up to something,” Dean whispered. “Yeah, for sure. Let’s try talking to them,” Sam replied. But before they could move closer to them, a waiter brought over a plate of fries that Armand had ordered to appear human.

“Uh, maybe they aren't vampires,” Sam whispered to Dean as they watched Armand struggle to get ketchup out of the bottle before putting a fry in his mouth, which only added to the brothers' confusion.

“Yeah, vampires don’t typically eat French fries,” Dean replied. “That kinda sounds like it could be the title of a weird children's book,” Sam said. At this point, Daniel had also noticed them staring but couldn't hear their thoughts over all the other humans.

Tired of being stared at, Daniel turned to Sam and Dean. “Can I help you?” he asked, his tone a mix of irritation and curiosity.

Thinking quickly, Dean smiled. “Sorry we didn't mean to be rude; we've just never seen you guys around here before. Are you new to the area?” he said smoothly.

“Yeah, we just got here yesterday,” Daniel replied. “Mind if we join you?” Armand was starting to become more uncomfortable, but he didn't want to look suspicious. “I suppose,” Armand told them.

As soon as they sat down next to the odd pair, Sam noticed that the plate of French fries had barely been touched. “I’m Dean, and this is my brother Sam,” Dean introduced. “Not hungry?” Sam glanced at the plate.

Daniel almost laughed, but Armand interrupted, “Not hungry right now. I tried something earlier, and it upset my stomach.” Sam decided to change the subject.

“So, what brings you two to this boring town?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

“We just wanted to get away for a bit; things back home in New York were getting a bit too much for me. I prefer peace and quiet, and I'm trying to get back into writing,” Daniel replied before putting a fry in his mouth to appear human.

“You're a writer?” Sam asked, kinda excitedly.

“Yes, but I haven't written in years. I'm hoping being away from the city and getting some alone time with my lover will help inspire me,” Daniel answered. The brothers looked a bit confused, and the pair recognized why, but before Armand could intervene, Daniel tried to ease their worry and confusion.

“We get this a lot; he’s actually older than me,” Daniel replied with a laugh. Dean awkwardly changed the subject.

“I overheard you talking earlier about a creature with lots of teeth and something about snacking on a drunk guy, what was that about?” he asked. The odd pair looked shocked. “It’s just a little inside joke we have; something bad did happen earlier, but we like to grossly exaggerate things,” Armand lied.

Dean decided to check if they were warm. “Oh, still sounds like you’ve had a pretty rough night though; mind if I steal some fries?” Dean asked.

Daniel slid the plate closer to the brothers, and as Dean was reaching for a fry, he awkwardly brushed hands with Daniel and Armand and found Daniel to be warm but Armand to be cold and corpse-like. At this point, the brothers were really confused.

“Well, we should probably get going; I do have work tomorrow. Nice meeting you guys,” Dean lied as he nudged Sam away from the counter.

Armand let out a sigh of relief as soon as the brothers left. “Are you alright, boss? You seem really tense,” Daniel asked before taking Armand's hand in his own. Armand explained what he had seen in their minds. Daniel groaned in annoyance. “I just got my typewriter set up and my workspace all cozy just a few hours ago. Are we going to have to leave?” Daniel asked.

“Not yet, I’m wary of them, but I think if need be, we could overpower them. Also, curious about what they do and what they know about the creature we encountered earlier,” Armand replied, glancing in the direction where the Winchester brothers had exited.

Outside, Sam and Dean were having their own conversation. “That was weird, right?” Sam said.

“Yeah, definitely. Armand's cold as ice but not acting like a vampire, and Daniel is warm and seems very human. We need to keep an eye on them," Dean agreed. “And track down that Leviathan that they encountered," Sam added.

“Right, let's get back to the bunker and do some research. I have a feeling things are about to get interesting,” Dean said, leading the way back to the Impala.

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kaleldobrev · 1 year

Text

A Small Part of You

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader

Summary: Although Dean is gone, at least you’ll always have a part of him

Word Count: 2.3k

Warnings: Descriptions of depression, Talks of death

Authors Note: Fic takes place between season 7 and season 8 | Flashbacks are in italics | THIS ONE IS A REAL TEARJERKER | Reader is 21+ | If you liked this, don’t forget to like & reblog. I really appreciate it! Feedback is always welcome ♡

“Dean?” You asked, trying your best to make your voice sound calm and even, even though you were nervous and deathly afraid for what was going to happen tomorrow. After everything, you, Sam, and Dean were going to go face to face with Dick Roman; and you knew, along with the two boys, that this was probably going to be the last thing you guys ever did. It was a suicide mission; but it was a mission that would be saving millions of lives.

“Yeah?” Dean asked, trying to match the evenness of your voice. “What’s up Sweetheart?” He already knew what you were going to say.

“About tomorrow. Um. If, um, if things go...if things go according to plan...” You struggled to get your sentence, even though you had it perfectly rehearsed in your head moments before. You cleared your throat, looking Dean in the eyes. “If things go according to plan tomorrow, you, me, Sam...We’re all going to die right?”

Looking at each other, you and Dean shared a similar expression: fear mixed with sadness with a hint of realization. It was strange the way you were feeling, because so many times before, you have looked into the face of death (literally and figuratively) and had no problem with the idea that you may die in a horrible way. You were a hunter after all; hunters usually don’t get happy endings nor do they get to retire. A hunters life was a sad one, a lonely one usually. Most of them going out in some horrible way by some monster that they killed hundreds of times before. With every job you took, you knew it could be your last; and you were fine with that because at the end of the day you saved people – people were alive because of you. But, something that had never occurred to you – not until a couple of years ago anyway – is that you have in fact died before; and so have Sam and Dean. Countless times, in unimaginable ways. But, Joshua was the one that always brought you three back stating that it was “God’s orders” to bring the three of you back. But this time, this time felt different. There was a strong nagging thought in the back of your brain that kept saying, “Next time you die, you’re staying dead.” For the first time in your life since you were a kid, you were actually afraid to die.

“Yeah. That’s um…that’s the plan.” Dean let out an uncomfortable chuckle. He was feeling similar to the way you were. He was nervous and scared for tomorrow. Yes, he wanted to take down Roman, but he didn’t want to have to die in order to do it. There was a part of him, a part of him that had slowly started to engulf him over the years ever since his dad died: why did he have to be the one to do this? Before his mom died he had dreams of his own, had wanted to be a firefighter – a desire that become stronger after his mother died. He actually did want to go to college, as strange as that may sound, and that was something he had thought about sometimes, wondering what he would have majored in. As much as he loved this job, as much as he loved saving people, it was never his initial choice – this life, this job was picked for him. He thought about how unfair that was, how he never got the chance at a normal life, how Sam barely did either.

You started playing with your fingers. “I’m scared.” You voice sounded so faint.

“Me too Sweetheart.” Dean said, before briefly sighing.

“One last time?” You asked, your voice slightly breaking now as if you were trying your best not to cry.

“Yeah. One last time.” Dean gave you a small pained smile before leaning down and kissing you.

One Month Later…

Before everything went down with Dick Roman, you fully expected to die, were even prepared to die. Although you were scared to, you knew that it would end up saving millions of people; that’s why you loved being a hunter. You got to save people, and help people have lives they might not have had otherwise if you hadn’t saved them from some monster. You didn’t know if you were going to be going to Heaven or Hell once you died; you had hoped Heaven because of all the good you did saving people, but at the same time, you also wouldn’t have been surprised if you did end up in Hell considering all of the bad you did too. Either way, you knew that you’d at least have maybe one or both of the boys with you so you wouldn’t be so alone. In the end though, you didn’t end up dying. Neither Sam or you did but, Dean was gone; and for the past month, it felt like you were in your own special place in Hell.

The last month has been a real blur but at the same time it felt like it was dragging on; the days started to blend together. You had sought out the comfort of your bed, your parents had let you and Sam spend some time there after everything that had happened. Although they weren’t hunters themselves, they knew about the life because of you. It wasn’t a life that they wanted for you, but understood why you did it; why you had to do it.

For the past month you barely got out of bed. For about a week or two, your parents and Sam tried their hardest to try and get you out of your room to do things. Asking you to accompany them grocery shopping or going for a short walk around the neighborhood. But all you said was, “No thanks,” and just rolled over, covering your head with the sheets.

“Dean wouldn’t want you to be like this.” Sam said, this statement causing you to uncover your head with the blankets. “We have to be strong...We have to be strong for him.”

“I’m so tired. I don’t have the energy to be strong anymore.” You told him. “I just want to be left alone right now.” You covered yourself with the sheets again.

After two weeks of asking, Sam and your parents almost forced you out of your room for your own benefit; so you could take a shower, so you could eat something that was more filling then crackers, to socialize even for a few moments. But when you did eat something though, that was more than crackers, it was hard for you to keep the food down, the nausea that you felt was too overwhelming.

“Sweetheart, you have to eat something.” You mother said, handing you a bowl of chicken noodle soup and some saltine crackers.

“I have been. I’ve been eating crackers.” You told her.

“You need something more than crackers.” She pushed the bowl toward you placing the spoon in the bowl.

“Mom, the last thing I want is chunky soup. I feel nauseous just looking at this.” You explained pushing the bowl away from you.

Your mother sighed. “Okay, fine. At least eat the saltines then.”

The toilet bowl and the cool tile floor of the bathroom had become a second home to you when you weren’t in your nice, warm bed.

“Couldn’t keep the saltines down this time?” Sam asked rubbing your back as you had your face over the toilet.

You shook your head. “No.” You simply said, flushing the toilet.

Sam got up and walked toward the bathroom door. “I’ll go grab you some water.”

You tried your best to smile at him. “Thanks Sam.”

“Of course.” He smiled back.

Although you didn’t have Dean, you were happy to at least have Sam and your parents still. Your parents didn’t fully know what you were going through, but they understood the type of pain that you were in.

“When my mother lost my father...she wasn’t the same person after that.” You heard your mother say to Sam one night.

“Yeah, she’s...been taking Dean’s death really, really hard. I don’t blame her though. I’m sad he’s gone too but...it’s different for her than it is for me.” Sam said. You could hear the pain and sadness in his voice as he talked to your mother.

Although you had lost Dean; someone that you classified as being the love of your life, Sam also lost his brother and his best friend.

The last couple of days in particular have been the hardest. Even though you had felt a vast amount of fatigue and nausea over the last month, the last couple of days felt like it was in extreme overdrive. It felt harder and harder for you to get out of bed, and the smells of things that used to not bother you before started to sicken you.

“Hey honey. I’m going to be making some burgers tonight. Can you prep them for me?” Your dad asked. “You used to make the best burgers.” He complimented.

“Yeah I can…I can do that.” You responded. Taking out the meat from the fridge you had started your usual routine of how you had made the burgers in the past before you had started hunting with the Winchester boys. Unwrapping the meat from the package you felt yourself gag a bit. “Jesus.” You said, checking the expiration date. It was in date, but you felt like you wanted to throw up. “Um dad…Does this smell funny to you?”

Your dad walked over, a confused expression on his face. “It shouldn’t smell funny, just bought that meat yesterday.” He took the package from you and took a deep inhale. “No. It smells fine to me. Why?”

“The smell makes me want to gag.”

“Alright uh, I’ll ask Sam if he can do it instead.”

It was strange the way you were feeling, because you didn’t feel necessarily sick, but you had felt like there was something off with you. Picking up your phone you dialed your mothers number. “Hi Honey.” Your mom responded on the other end. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Um, are you still at the store?” You asked.

“Yeah I’m still here. Need me to get you something?” She didn’t sound worried, but you knew she was; she was your mother after all.

You sat on the cold tile floor waiting for the results to come up. You weren’t sure if you had wanted to see one or two lines – you had pros and cons for each. As you leaned up against the bathroom cabinet, test in hand, you looked over at the bathroom clock. “Okay. 30 more seconds.” You took a deep breath. “Okay, okay, okay.” Another deep breath. Although 30 seconds isn’t a long amount of time, at this moment, it felt like the time was dragging on. Your heart was pounding deeply and fast in your chest, you wouldn’t have been surprised if it had jumped clean out of you.

The 30 seconds were up, and you shut your eyes, taking another deep breath, mentally preparing yourself. “Okay. On three. One…two…three.” Opening your eyes you stared blankly at the lines on the test. There was two. Your heart that was once beating rapidly now felt like it was sinking. A small amount of tears started welling up in your eyes now, and you felt like you could no longer breathe.

A faint knocking on the bathroom door snapped you out of it. “Y/N? Are you okay? You’ve been in there for quite a while.” It was Sam.

“Yeah um…” You wiped the tears from your eyes, surprised that you had any tears left to spill. “I’ll be out in a sec.” You reassured him.

Getting up from the bathroom floor you looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror and turned on the sink. You looked so tired and drained. Faint black circles were underneath your eyes from your lack of sleep, your eyes were bloodshot red and puffy due to the constant crying. You splashed cool water on your face trying your best to get rid of any sign that you had been crying again. Although it wasn’t uncommon for you to cry lately, you hated how your parents and Sam looked at you; you didn’t want them to feel sorry or bad for you.

Walking out of the bathroom Sam was standing there leaning up against the wall in the hallway. He looked at you, slight concern in his face. All you did was look at him as you reached out your hand and handed him the test. He looked at you confused now, unsure of why you were giving this to him. “A pregnancy test?” He asked, almost sounding surprised.

“Yeah. Um…Not sure if you know how they work but…Two lines means it’s –” Before you could finish, Sam cut you off.

“Positive. Yeah, I know how they work.” He paused for a moment. “You and Dean um…”

“The day before everything went down yeah. One last time we said.”

In that moment Sam leaned in and hugged you, his warm embrace was something that you deeply needed right about now. You let the tears start falling down your cheeks. “At least a part of him will always live on.” You said, giving him the comfort that he needed in that moment. The two of you lost the same person – Sam his brother and best friend; you the love of your life. This pregnancy weirdly, was something of a blessing, something that not only you needed, but Sam needed too. Although the baby was going to be a constant reminder of someone that the two of you had lost, the baby was also a small piece of Dean that would be able to live on, honoring his memory. I hope you have his green eyes and freckles, you thought to yourself.

#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester #spn imagine #supernatural imagine #spn one shot #supernatural one shot #dean x you #dean x reader #female reader #reader insert #spn #supernatural

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eisforeidolon · 12 days

Note

"I think the one that still boggles me the most is Lucifer stans mad at the Winchesters for being SO MEEN to him."

Please tell me this is not actually a thing? Good grief. Lucifer is a great villain in early seasons, and transforms into little more than a giant bag of dicks as the show keep bringing him back past his expiration date. If anything, the Winchesters should have been MEANER to him. Guh!

So, on a slightly related but different note, I love that Sam is never nice to Crowley, and I see a lot of people crap on him for it because Crowley's fun abd charismatic and occasionally an ally. But, Crowley is a very very bad person, and he has done both petty and hideous things. He manipulated Dean into getting the MOC, for cripe's sake. Sam is wise to not trust him. Also, Dean is mean to him, too in Season 10, manipulating and lying to him. And I say, GOOD!

This doesn’t mean I don’t like Crowley the character, but when people hate on either brother for not trusting or being nice enough to the constantly or occasionally evil supernaturals in their lives, all I can do is roll my eyes.

No one on this show is entirely trustworthy all the time, and that includes both brothers, so people shouldn’t get too uptight about others criticizing characters from time to time. It’s just the harping on one brother constantly (Sam or Dean), and painting them as the bad guy, out to ruin the ither's love, that is ridiculous.

I wish I could tell you it wasn't a thing, but I definitely came across it when I was still going into the general tags. Blocked and never looked back. I'm not telling anyone what they can and can't get out of a tv show or any other media so long as they aren't being dicks to other people about it, but sometimes I Don't Get It and I Really Don't Want To.

Things with villains in the latter seasons of SPN just get ... weird. It's like they kinda tried to redeem all of them and make them the Winchesters' buddies? But in a really half-ass way most of the time? Like, I genuinely like some of those characters, but they did some evil shit. Meg got Jo and Ellen killed, attacked them several times, and was part of Bobby ending up in a wheelchair. We met Rowena torturing random hotel workers on a ceiling. Gabriel killed Dean a whole host of times and was an even bigger coward than we knew. Crowley held Bobby's soul hostage, killed several people they saved including Sarah Blake, talked Dean into the MoC, prevented Lucifer from going back into the Cage, etc. And don't even get me started on Eugenie's Thing about Lucifer and how they wanted Sam to be joking around with him (which apparently some people would have been into that, SMH). It was like they couldn't stand to just let evil characters be evil, or at least let the Winchesters consistently treat them as if they were as untrustworthy as they actually were.

So yeah, getting all up in arms about Sam being mean to Crowley is just ... do you not remember all the shit Crowley has done? Like, even when he was technically sort of on their side he was constantly being a self-serving manipulative dick! C'mon! He's a great character but the furthest thing from a trustworthy ally.

Some fans really do seem to get to a point where they don't want to even try to sympathize with or understand the characters that aren't their faves while excusing the characters they like from pretty much anything and everything.

#askboxery #anonymous #spn discussion

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 1 year

Text

Restless (snippetfic)

"Hello, Dean," Cas had said, in a nearly fancy-meeting-you-here tone of voice, though Dean heard the shakiness beneath it that made something in his chest crackle brittle and cold.

Restless prompt courtesy of @winchester-reload, additional prompts courtesy of @clenster (many thanks to both!)

deancas, human au, besties to first kiss pipeline ✌️

"What's up?" Charlie asked.

Dean watched her take a big slurp of Skeleton Theory before answering, "Nothing." He went back to looking at his phone screen, willing a text bubble to appear.

"He's probably stuck in traffic." Charlie grimaced at the beer bottle in her hand. "I wish I were stuck in traffic."

"I'm gonna stop stocking all these fancy craft beers you claim to enjoy, since actually you always hate them." Dean sighed and put his phone down on the bar. "But yeah. Rush hour and all that."

Lebanon was the kind of place where rush hour lasted from 5 p.m. to 5:15 p.m. But still. The sour taste in his mouth was at odds with the amount of high fructose corn syrup he'd personally imbibed in the last hour. He took another sip of soda and drummed his fingers on the neck of the nearest tap and gave a shuffle of his feet and scratched an itch on his eyebrow. Dean ignored the look Charlie gave him and Dean's phone ignored Dean.

Charlie cleared her throat. "I said, the docs gave Cas the okay on driving?"

Dean startled back to real time. "Yeah, yesterday." He rubbed his eye. "They ruled out a concussion, and apparently him landing on grass cushioned him from the crash." He nodded at the buggy expression Charlie was making. "His bike and helmet took the worst of the damage."

"And what's your assessment?" Charlie put her elbows on the bar and leaned forward intently.

Dean flashed back to skidding into the local immediate care center to find his best friend sitting in the waiting room, drying blood streaked dark red down his jawline and a rip in his jeans that showed off a glistening crimson gorge in his left shin.

"Hello, Dean," Cas had said, in a nearly fancy-meeting-you-here tone of voice, though Dean heard the shakiness beneath it that made something in his chest crackle brittle and cold.

"He could've easily been killed," Dean told Charlie. "Fucking drivers in this town," he muttered. "We've got two main drags and a couple of round-abouts. People could share what few roads we have more charitably."

This was an understatement. Bicyclists frequently complained of unsafe road conditions. Dean hadn't ridden a non-motorized bicycle in approximately 20 years, and his own vintage Impala was by no means a dainty vehicle, but he'd still sympathized with the bicyclists' plight, or at least Cas's. Now there was a hit-and-runner out there somewhere who'd almost killed someone Dean loved–

Dean's brain stuttered on that thought, not for the first time. He resumed not making eye contact with Charlie and drained his soda. "Jo and Max cleaned him up well at the clinic. He insisted he didn't need me hangin' 'round last night takin' up space." Dean coughed into his shoulder.

Cas hadn't exactly said it like that – he'd been kinder – but close enough. Leaving Cas on Cas's own front porch had been one of the harder things Dean had done lately. He was trying not to be mad at himself for spending the night in his own bed, alone as ever, and it wasn't quite working.

"Hey, so," Charlie started. She pushed her half-finished beer far down the bar, like it might bite. "You never told me you gave Cas a mixtape."

Dean hiccuped and lemon-lime sugar seemed to fizz into his ear canals, deeply unpleasantly. "What?"

"Heard it in Cas's hooptie last week." Charlie grinned like a Cheshire cat. "Terrific collection of Zepp. And nicely ordered – I'm always saying a mixtape needs to have a sense of rhythm, a reason for one song to follow another, y'know?" Her face went all innocent. "If you're thinking about sending someone a message, telling someone how you feel, a project needs to hit all the right notes, doesn't it. Get it? Notes?" Her eyebrows clowned around.

"I… Didn't know he'd been listening to it." Dean shifted from one foot to another and rubbed his hands together as though he was freezing. "He, uh. Hasn't said anything."

He and Cas didn't spend much time going places in Cas's crabby old Lincoln, since being the driver on a road trip was much more Dean's speed. (Or mandate, the Sam in Dean's head said. Dean stuck out his tongue at him and made a mental note to text him later.) And it wasn't like Cas needed to say something about the mixtape; it wasn't like, when Dean had handed it to him a month ago, he'd included instructions for proper consumption conditions (sunny day, windows down; cool evening, and a shot of bourbon) and a deadline for a comprehensive review, 500-words minimum. It wasn't like Dean had sweated for days over which songs to include, having slaved to cull an initial list of forty-some songs to a tidy thirteen with a level of laser focused intensity he hadn't managed since first opening the taphouse a few years ago.

(Was the inclusion of both "Trampled Underfoot" and "Rain Song" too on the nose? Apparently not.)

"Anyway, pretty sure he's been enjoying it," Charlie said with a blythe flourish, and before Dean could respond, her outflung hand seemed to conjure up Cas, who walked in through the door with only a bit of a limp. "Speak of the angel."

She flew off her barstool and grabbed Cas up in a hug. Dean saw Cas give an "Oof!" on impact. As Cas hugged her back, Dean hoped Charlie hadn't just dislocated some bones in Cas's body that had only barely survived yesterday's boxing match with gravity.

"Go on, say hi," Pamela said, bumping Dean's hip with her own. "Take a beat."

"Where did you come from?" Dean asked his wayward employee.

"None of your business," Pamela sing-songed, tying an apron around her waist and sporting a hickey the size of a silver dollar. She looked over, pointedly, at a new guy near the end of the bar who had a thousand dollars' worth of tattoos running down his bare arms and up his throat. He tipped his leather cap at her and she blew him a kiss. "I'll handle the rabble for a bit."

Monday before 7 p.m. was hardly the taphouse's busiest shift, but Dean took the point.

He wandered out from behind the bar and sat on Charlie's abandoned stool as she and Cas walked over. "Hey, Cas." Dean was relieved to see no major, lingering signs of trauma; the blood had washed away without stain, and the bruise on the side of Cas's face mostly blended in with his perpetual five o'clock shadow.

Charlie squeezed Cas's hand and let go. "Just saw Rowena come in, gonna go say hi."

"Is that wise?" Dean emphasized the sarcasm.

"Doubtful," Charlie replied, all cheer. "Super glad you're okay, Cas."

"Thank you," Cas said, ducking his head.

She veered back towards the door. Dean took a moment to be equal parts grateful Sam's dalliance with Rowena had run its course and horrified that Sam's experience had in no way deterred Charlie from finding her, quote, "an interesting challenge."

"She'll be fine," Cas told him.

"Yeah?" Dean leaned closer, realized it, and settled back.

Cas perhaps hid a smile. "I don't know." He looked over at the two women chatting with expressive hand gestures and big laughs. "Rowena has grown on me."

"I think she's just cruising by on the sheer charismatic power of her hair." Dean heard the cattiness in his voice and chose to accept it.

"A good haircut can be very influential," Cas intoned solemnly.

"Oh," Dean said, ducking his own head. "I told you that once, huh."

Cas shrugged and a smile bloomed at the corner of his mouth. "I grew up in a cult, and you were just being helpful."

Dean nodded, still looking at his boots.

"You did help," Cas continued. "And you've continued to be helpful, immensely, for which I am immensely grateful. In case I haven't mentioned it in the last 24 hours."

Dean looked up into Cas's soft blue eyes and smiled, powerless against the warmth there. "Good." He scratched his chin. "You feeling all right today?"

"Somewhat achy. Otherwise, no complaints." Cas lifted up his left foot for a second. "Changing the bandage on my leg wasn't as disgusting as I'd been led to believe it would be."

"Well, that's good news, isn't it." Dean cocked his head. "New shirt?"

"It's the one Sam gave me at Christmas." Cas looked down at the green plaid. "I like it. It's comfortable."

"I hear you like the mixtape I made you," Dean blurted out. If he was turning a mortifying shade of pink, well, that wasn't any of his business.

"I do, very much," Cas agreed. Puzzlement flitted across his face. "I can return it whenever you want."

"No, no. It's a gift; you keep those." Before Dean could stop himself, he reached out and snagged Cas's hand.

Cas let him tug him forward and waited. Dean unbuttoned Cas's shirt at the wrist and began rolling up that sleeve, stopping at Cas's elbow. He repeated the process with the right sleeve. When his fingertips grazed the underside of Cas's wrist, Cas shivered, and said nothing, watching Dean's face as he worked. Dean slid his hands down Cas's arms and gently let go, and only then looked up again.

Cas's eyes had gone dark, to compliment the flush at the tops of his cheeks and the way his mouth was parted just a little, like it wanted to be kissed.

Dean obliged: his hands rose as if of their own volition to cup Cas's head and bring it down to his, his mouth seeking the heat of Cas's as though this could be accomplished without either of them noticing. Cas crowded between Dean's legs and brought his own hands to Dean's face, and Dean was suddenly pushed back against the bar he'd personally paid a goddamn fortune for and was being kissed like… Like….

Like Cas wanted him as much as he wanted Cas.

A sharp two-finger whistle brought the exploration to a halt. Cas rested his forehead against Dean's collarbone and breathed heavily – oh, Dean thought, that was a lovely sound, and made himself stop panting. He blinked at Charlie across the room giving him a thumbs up.

"You could just take a vacation day already," Pamela said, flicking him in the ear and simultaneously patting Cas on the back. "Unless you wanna continue giving the patrons a show?" She pivoted away.

Dean glared at her for a split second before resting his hands at Cas's waist. The middling crowd appeared to have already gone back to their beverages and gossip.

Cas's expression was halfway between wild-eyed and sweet-shy. "Would you like to come home with me?" he asked quietly.

Dean answered with another kiss. It turned out to be most of what he said for the next several hours, and he was very persuasive in his arguments; and so was Cas.

#destiel #deancas #spn #fic #snippetfic #fluff fluff fluff

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