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#dean winchester angst
wildwestdean · 3 months
Text
transposition
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summary: a spell goes wrong and ends up with you and sam switching bodies. neither of you tell dean, which ends up being the greatest decision you ever made
pairing: dean winchester x witch!reader; best friend!sam winchester x witch!reader (platonic, obvs)
word count: 6.3k+
warnings: swearing, mentions of magic use, misunderstandings, miscommunication, angst, secrets, accidental love confessions, awkward idiots, mutual pining, friends to lovers, fluff, cliches, minor use of [y/n], (female pronouns/descriptors used)
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“I can’t believe we’re doing this,” Sam grunted under his breath, continuing to powder the contents of your mortar with more force than necessary. “If Dean finds out about this-”
“Dean asked me to do this,” you defended, eyes skimming over the page in front of you before looking up at him. “Okay, maybe not verbatim, but he asked!” you added upon seeing the look on Sam’s face. 
“Oh, yeah. Yeah, I’m sure he did,” he replied sarcastically, slamming the pestle down with enough force to make you flinch. 
“Would you be fucking careful!” you hissed, glaring at him. “That thing isn’t indestructible and it’s important to me, it was a gift-” 
“From Dean,” he finished for you. “I know. Sorry,” he added, and even though his tone was sincere, you just knew he rolled his eyes anyway; and you chucked the closest thing you could grab at his back in retaliation. 
“Dick,” you muttered, going back to reading the passage before you. 
It wasn’t often that you used your powers - more so when it came down to a last resort option - and when Dean first discovered that you had magic, it wasn’t intentional. The two of you were on a hunt together, and it was - of course - not going to plan. You were on the brink of consciousness, having no choice but to watch defenselessly as Dean became outnumbered by Vamps. The spell came out of nowhere, nothing more than a primal instinct to protect him, and before anyone knew what was happening, the two of you were left alone with nothing but piles of ash where the monsters once stood. Dean first thought that Rowena had somehow stumbled upon them to save the day once more, though once he realized the spell came from you, he damn near lost his mind. You would have rather he yelled at you, smashed things around, anything compared to what he did. Once he made sure you were okay and had you checked out, he simply acted as if you didn’t exist; you were completely frozen out of his life. He never needed to say anything, you could see it in his eyes every time he glanced at you: How could you be a witch? He hated witches, and you knew that- it’s half the reason you never told him in the first place. He only started coming around with Sam’s convincing- and even then, it took an incredibly long time for him to trust you again. Then, one day, he came to realize that no matter what happened, he could never hate you. So, he came to you with an open mind and a peace offering- the exact mortar and pestle you had once told Sam that you wanted, because it reminded you of your mother’s- and the two of you worked on putting the pieces of your friendship back together. 
“Ass,” Sam retorted, turning and walking over to you with the freshly crushed ingredients. 
“You know,” you started, taking it from his hands. “You can’t really be against this all that much, otherwise you wouldn’t be here helping.”
“I’m only here so you don’t get yourself killed.”
“Oh, come on,” you urged with a chuckle. “You love doing this, and you know it.”
He gave you a sarcastic smile before taking the book from you. “Let’s just get this over with.”
“Fine,” you huffed, snatching the book right back. 
With one final glare at each other, you started the spell. Everything was going well… until it wasn’t. 
You aren’t exactly sure where it went wrong. You don’t know if it was the ingredients, the way you said the spell, or just a mixture of everything, but before you even knew what was happening the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow and sent both you and Sam flying. 
“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “What the fuck?” you wondered aloud, feeling strange beyond comprehension. 
“What the hell happened?” Sam croaked out.
“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”
“I don’t know. Something feels wrong,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized why you felt so different. “Sam?” you asked meekly.
“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up. “Wait-” 
“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; were they even your hands? 
“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; your body? 
“You’re me!” you exclaimed, gesturing between the two of you. 
“You’re me!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.
You followed suit, using the wall behind you to help you stand. “God, how do you live like this?”
“Me? What about you? I won’t even be able to reach the upper cabinets in the kitchen!” he countered, flailing his arms around. 
“At least you’ll be able to fit on your bed! My feet are gonna dangle!” you huffed, folding your arms over yourself. 
“You need to fix this,” Sam declared, stepping towards you. You couldn’t help but take a few steps away- this was way too weird. You’ve seen shifters take your image before, but this was actually you. Only it wasn’t you. You felt like your head was about to explode. 
“Gee, you think, Sam?” you snapped, narrowing your eyes at him. “I thought we’d just stay like this forever!” 
He opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the door swinging open. You both flinched, turning to see Dean peering into the room. 
“What the fuck’s with all the yelling?” he asked, glancing around. “The hell is going on?” 
“I- uh-” you tried to answer, but nothing came to mind. 
“Just, uh…. experimenting,” Sam supplied, and you sent him a glare. 
“Experimenting?” Dean repeated, raising his eyebrows at you- or rather, at whom he thought was you. 
“Yeah,” Sam said with a shrug, not sure what else to say. The two of you shared a look, silently agreeing not to breathe a word of what was really going on. 
Dean’s face softened, and he sighed. “Don’t tell me you’re actually doing that spell. Sweetheart, we can get by without it.” 
“We don’t-” you started to argue, before Sam interrupted you with a clearing of his throat. 
Right. Dean wasn’t exactly talking to you right now. 
“Thought it was a good opportunity to practice,” Sam replied, sounding more like he was asking than telling. 
“Right,” Dean said, eyeing your body wearily. 
Oh, god. He was gonna pick up on something being wrong, it was only a matter of time. 
“You can leave any time now,” you spoke up, more irritated than you meant to sound, but you were severely on edge.
Dean turned to you with a look of surprise. “‘Scuse me?”
“I just- you know, we’re in the middle of something,” you continued, doing your best to stand your ground. 
“Yeah, I can see that,” he quipped, taking a step towards you. “What the hell were you thinking? Why are you letting her mess around with this stuff? Better yet, why are you helping her mess around with this stuff?” 
“It’s just a simple spell,” you argued, your head swirling with the fact that you were looking down on him, instead of being dwarfed by his frame like you normally would be. 
“A simple spell?” he repeated, fury and irritation dancing in his eyes. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”  
“Last I checked we could make our own decisions, Dean!” you exclaimed, glaring at him. 
“Sure,” he placated with a nod. “So long as they’re not stupid ass decisions!” 
“Can we go ten minutes in this place without a fight happening?” Sam pitched in, already exasperated with the situation. 
“Yeah, sure,” Dean grumbled, glaring at you. “Food’s ready.”
“We’ll be there in a few minutes,” Sam announced, earning a glare from you in return. 
“Don’t you think we should finish-” you tried to ask, but were quickly cut off by Dean. 
“No, you guys are done in here,” he declared, shaking his head. “Let’s go.”
“Dean-” you tried once more, only to be cut off again. 
“Sam,” Dean warned. “I’m not kidding. Whatever you two were doing, it’s done.”
“Fine. We’ll be out in a few minutes,” you relented, resisting the urge to roll your eyes. “We need to clean up!” you added upon seeing the look on Dean’s face. 
“Five minutes,” Dean agreed pointedly. “Or I swear, I’ll drag both your asses out of this room.” 
“Yeah, five minutes, got it,” you huffed, watching him as he hesitantly left the room. 
You waited a few moments before hastily making your way over and all but slamming the door, turning to look at Sam with wide eyes. 
“We are so screwed,” he declared, matching your expression. 
“What are we supposed to do? He’s gonna figure out something’s wrong!” you exclaimed, slumping against the door behind you. 
“We just…. I don’t know, pretend?” Sam suggested with a shrug. 
“Pretend?” you repeated incredulously. “Sam, this is insane! We can’t just pretend to be each other!” 
“It’s not like I meant permanently!” he defended, holding out his hands in surrender. “But until we can find a way to fix this, we have to at least play the part in front of Dean.” 
“Fine,” you agreed with a huff. “But I am not going on your crack of dawn jogs.” 
“Oh, come on-” he started to argue, though quickly stopped when met with your glare. “Yeah, okay, that- that’s fine.” 
“Great. Now let’s go before Dean gets even more pissy,” you declared, opening the door with a flourish. 
With a quick nod, he followed you down the hall, the two of you lowly bickering about the situation all the way to the kitchen. 
“I feel like a baby giraffe with this fucking body.”
“You look like a baby giraffe, do you not know how to walk?” 
“Yeah, I know how to walk! I know how to walk with normal legs!”
“Normal? You’re short enough to get in anywhere with a child’s pass!” 
“Keep up with the attitude, Sam. Maybe I’ll go have a really nice salon visit and cut all this hair!” 
“Fine, then maybe I’ll call up that guy from your ‘worst date ever’ and ask to catch up!”
“Fine by me. You’ll be the one he’ll be groping and hitting on the whole time.” 
“Yeah- well-... look, just don’t cut my hair!” 
“What are you two all hush hush about?” Dean asked curiously, eyeing you both as you entered the kitchen. 
“Nothing,” you both quickly replied, taking a seat at the table. 
Dean stared at you both for a moment before nodding curtly. “If you say so.” 
Choosing not to reply, you both quietly watched as he joined the table, taking his regular seat next to you. Which, of course, meant he was currently next to Sam, and you watched in amusement as he shifted nervously while Dean got too close for his comfort. 
Attempting to stifle a laugh, you took a bite of the burger that was placed in front of you, only to grimace in response. “What is this?” you asked through a mouthful, meeting Dean’s confused gaze. 
“It’s… the same veggie burger you force me to make you every time I make burgers?” he replied, looking at you as though you lost your head. 
Fucking Sam, you thought bitterly. “Oh, right. Right, it just- it tastes different, I don’t know,” you stammered, sparing a quick glance across at Sam as you hurriedly took another bite. 
“You two are weirder than usual tonight,” Dean muttered to himself before eating his own food. 
The three of you ate in stifling silence, you and Sam both internally trying to find a way out of this mess, before Dean spoke up again and pulled you from your revere. 
“[Y/N], do you want just the usual from the store? I was gonna make a run before our movie night,” he said, turning to look beside him with a soft grin. 
You felt your stomach drop as Sam cleared his throat, looking between you and Dean for a moment. “Movie night?” 
“Yeah,” Dean said, his eyebrows furrowing in even more confusion. “Like we have every Friday?” 
“Oh, right!” Sam exclaimed, chuckling nervously. “I didn’t realize what day it is, I, uh- I’m actually not… feeling too hot, do you mind if we skip it tonight?” 
“You wanna skip it?” Dean asked quietly, making your heart shatter as you watched the hurt and disappointment flash across his face.
After the two of you made up from your falling out, you started a tradition of spending extra quality time together at least once a week. This resulted in having a movie night every Friday, no matter what. Whether that meant catching a random movie on a motel tv or settling into the Dean Cave, you both always found a way to make it. Knowing you had no choice but to skip out this time almost made you want to tell him what happened right then and there; but you didn’t. 
“Yeah, I just… I think it’s best if I just head to bed, you know? I’d hate for it to get worse,” Sam said sheepishly, playing with the glass in front of him as he met Dean’s gaze halfheartedly. 
You were glad that if you had to mistakenly swap bodies with someone, it was Sam. Given that he became your best friend from just about the moment you met, he had your behaviour down pat; you just hoped you could do the same and make this all a little easier. 
“Well what do you mean, what’s wrong?” Dean asked worriedly.
“I’m just feeling run down is all,” Sam said, shrugging lightly as he stood up, taking his dishes to the sink. “Maybe we can watch something tomorrow,” he added, turning back to Dean with a shy smile. 
“Yeah. Yeah, sure,” Dean agreed softly, averting his gaze to the beer in his hands. “Don’t worry about it, just get some rest.” 
“Sure. Uh, goodnight, guys,” Sam replied awkwardly, shooting you a pointed look before leaving. 
You stayed in uncomfortable silence for a moment, studying Dean as he pouted at his bottle. 
“You alright?” you asked tentatively. 
“Yeah, just… first time she’s bailed on me,” he replied indifferently, downing the rest of his beer before heading to get another one. 
“She didn’t bail on you,” you argued firmly. “It’s not like she chose to go bar hopping or something, she’s sick.” 
“Didn’t seem so sick when she was huddled up with you,” Dean said curtly, leaning against the counter as he sent you a cold stare. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?” you asked confusedly, shifting in your seat to look at him better. 
He remained silent, lips pursed as he studied you for what felt like hours, before he finally shrugged. “Doesn’t mean anything.” 
“Then why say it?” you asked in irritation. 
He remained silent once more, simply raising the beer bottle to his lips and taking a long sip before standing upright. “Night, Sammy.” 
“Dean-” you tried to press, but he only ignored you as he continued across the floor, leaving the kitchen without saying another word. 
You sighed in exasperation, quickly cleaning everything up before heading to your room, catching almost no sleep as you dove deep into researching for a reversal to your mistake.
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“You need to shave,” Sam said, staring at you from across the table. 
“What?” you asked, caught off guard by the declaration. 
“Your beard - my beard. You need to shave it,” he clarified. “It’s been over a week.”
“And?” you asked, arching an eyebrow at him. “I doubt you’re taking care of all my housekeeping.” 
“That’s because I’m doing everything possible to not look at you! Like you asked!” he hissed in return. 
You rolled your eyes in response, returning your attention to the book in front of you. “I have more important things on my mind than shaving your stupid facial hair - which looks fine, by the way.” 
Sam huffed, shifting in his seat. “Yeah, well you can at least take five minutes for me!”
“I don’t even know how to shave a beard, Sam!” you argued, closing the book in exasperation. 
“Then just let me shave it for you!” he begged, leaning over the table. “I’m serious, [Y/N], you can’t just leave me all unkempt.” 
You met his gaze and sighed softly. “Damn, you can even pull off the puppy dog eyes with my face. That’s a talent, Sammy.” 
He couldn’t help but laugh, for what felt like the first time since this whole thing happened. “You can do it better than I can,” he chuckled. “At least when it comes to Dean,” he added with a smirk. 
“What does that mean?” you asked curiously. 
“Nothing,” he said, shrugging dismissively. “C’mon, let’s get you- me- whatever, all taken care of before Dean gets back with dinner.” 
“Fine,” you begrudgingly agreed, getting up to follow him.
Before you knew it, you were standing in front of him as he sat on the bathroom counter, because: “How else are we supposed to do this? These arms aren’t gonna reach that face comfortably without some help.”
You fell into a comfortable silence as he did what he needed to do, the only words spoken being his occasional nagging for you to quit moving, as you were both lost in your own thoughts about the last few days.
“I’m really sorry, Sammy,” you said suddenly. You weren’t sure whether your voice was so quiet due to the shame you felt, or for the fear of breaking the silence that surrounded you. 
“It’s not your fault,” he said simply, reflexively. 
You sighed, gently shaking your head; which earned another scolding glare from him as he steadied you. “It’s entirely my fault. I fucked up big time, and we both know it.” 
“Look, it was an accident,” he urged, wiping away the remnants of the shave one last time. “Assigning blame isn’t going to change anything.” 
“Why aren’t you mad at me? You should be furious! I practically ruined your life,” you pressed on frantically. 
“Okay, that’s being dramatic,” he chided. “Yeah, this isn't an ideal situation. Though weirdly, it’s also not the weirdest situation I’ve been in. And you know what? It’s not even the first time I’ve been in this situation! Remember when that kid switched bodies with me? Trust me, you’re a much better person to be switched with.” 
“Yeah, I remember,” you said, chuckling softly. “Still, I’m really sorry.” 
“I know you are,” he said softly. “I also know you’ll find a way to fix this.” 
“You really believe that?” you asked hesitantly. 
“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “‘Cause it’s you, and I’ll always have faith in you. You didn’t mean for this to happen, [Y/N]. It’s okay.” 
“No, it-” you started to argue, but he cut you off. 
“Stop,” he urged softly. “I’m not mad at you, okay? Maybe I was at first, but I’m not anymore.” 
“Promise?” you asked meekly. 
“I promise,” he said firmly.
“Okay,” you relented, not fully believing him but not wanting to push the topic any further. 
“Okay,” he repeated, gently wiping away one of your stray tears. 
“Maybe we should just tell Dean,” you suggested hesitantly. 
“Tell me what?” Dean’s voice suddenly cut through the room.
The two of you jumped, and you moved away from the counter as calmly as you could, knowing how the predicament you were in must look to him.
You turned to the doorway and came face to face with Dean staring intently at the two of you, his mind working into an overdrive as he tried to make sense of the scene he just walked in on. 
“Dean, I- when did you get back?” you asked nervously. 
“Tell me what?” he asked again, ignoring your question. 
You and Sam were both at a loss. You spent so much time trying to figure this whole thing out, yet neither of you thought to come up with some kind of story should you be cornered like this. 
“[Y/N]?” Dean asked softly, looking over to where he thought you sat on the counter. 
The look of hurt and confusion that flashed over his face and the waver in his voice all but sent a fresh wave of tears washing over you. 
Dean waited impatiently a few moments before shaking his head with a scoff. “Whatever, food’s in the kitchen.”
Before anyone could say anything else, he turned on his heel and left, leaving you and Sam stunned in his wake. 
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The dynamic between the three of you began shifting even more ever since that night, and you could feel Dean slipping further and further away from you with each passing day. 
You noticed it every time Dean would catch you and Sam huddled up and whispering low; when he would stand and stare before leaving with a quiet grumble of forgetting why he was there. 
You noticed it when he started spending more time in his room or tinkering with Baby in the garage; finding any and every excuse possible to spend time outside of the bunker and away from you and Sam. 
You and Sam tried to ignore it, promised yourselves that you’d explain everything once you managed to set things right - or, if you discovered you were over your heads and couldn’t fix everything. 
The thing you hated most about this whole thing was that it was becoming easier and easier to lie to Dean; and the worst part about that was not knowing whether you and Sam really became more convincing, or if Dean just didn’t care enough to question you anymore. 
Which is exactly why you found yourself sitting in the war room, waiting for Dean to make his way through to the kitchen, in order to try and talk things out. 
You weren’t expecting him to appear with one duffle bag over his shoulder and another by his side - and he wasn’t expecting to see you, either. 
“Didn’t think you’d be up,” he declared after a moment of hesitation, continuing on his path to the stairs. 
“Where the hell are you going?” you asked hotly, standing from your seat. 
Dean sighed, throwing his head back in frustration as he considered his response. “Donna’s cabin.” 
“What? Why?” you asked, eyebrows drawing together with confusion. 
“I can’t do it anymore,” he said tiredly. “I just can’t, okay?” 
“Do what?” you asked wearily, taking a tentative step towards him. “What are you talking about, Dean?” you pressed, feeling your chest tighten with the rising nerves and fear.
“Don’t do that,” he demanded, shaking his head. “Don’t play coy. You think I don’t know what’s been going on around here?” 
“What-... what’s been going on?” you asked curiously. “The hell are you talking about?”
You weren’t sure if or when he figured out what happened, and you also weren’t sure why it would make him feel the need to leave. 
“I’m talking about you and [Y/N]!” he shouted, throwing his bags down and stepping towards you. 
“Me and [Y/N]?” you wondered, taking a nervous step backwards. 
“I’m not an idiot, okay?” he spat, his jaw ticking. “You think I haven’t noticed? Think I couldn’t figure it out?” 
“Okay, look,” you began, holding out your hands defensively. “I can explain.” 
Dean let out a humourless laugh, running a hand over his mouth before glaring at you once more. “Explain,” he echoed with a chuckle of disbelief. “Don’t waste your breath.”
“Why are you so pissed off about this?” you asked in bewilderment. “I mean, I know we kept it from you, but we figure it’d be easier for you.” 
“Easier for me?” he repeated, voice raising. “What about this entire situation makes you think it’d be easy for me?”
“Well because it-... I mean it doesn’t really affect you, Dean,” you replied, unsure of your own words. 
“It doesn’t affect me?” he repeated with perplexion. “Of course it affects me! You know how I feel about her!” he exclaimed, taking yet another step forward. 
“What?” you questioned, thrown off by his response. 
“Don’t “what” me,” he snapped. “I want to be happy for you, Sammy. I really do, but I just-... I don’t think I ever can be.” 
“Okay, I-... I am so lost,” you admitted.
“You stole my girl, Sam!” Dean all but screamed. “You know that I love her. You know I was gonna tell her, and you know how much I want to spend whatever’s left of my god forsaken life with her! You swore you didn’t feel that way about her. You- I mean how to hell could you do this to me, Sammy? I can’t even stand to look at you anymore.” 
You remained silent, staring at him in shock and confusion for what felt like hours. Your mouth opened and closed a few times as you tried to formulate a response, but all that came out was a broken whisper of his name. 
“Don’t sweat it, Sammy. Not like I can blame you for falling for her, right? I mean hey, I sure did,” he sassed, smiling sarcastically. “Not surprised she chose you, either. She deserves someone better than me. But I’m not sticking around anymore to see it first hand.” 
You watched in stunned silence as he turned to gather his bags, trying and failing to think of anything to say. What the hell were you supposed to do? The man of your dreams just admitted he felt the exact same way, and you were trapped in his brother's body. Even if you told him the truth right now, would he even believe you? 
“Do me one favour, though,” Dean said from the foot of the stairs, effectively pulling you from your thoughts. “Don’t tell [Y/N]. Don’t tell her anything. I’ll think of something to tell her during the drive and call her tomorrow.” 
“Dean-” you finally began to protest, only to go unheard by him as he started up the steps. 
“Later, Sammy,” he announced with finality, disappearing out of the bunker. 
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“You have got to be kidding me. I mean honestly woman, how stupid can you be?” Rowena’s voice rang through the war room as she made her arrival known to you and Sam.
“Did you not get in enough insults over the phone?” you asked in exasperation, not bothering to move from your spot in the library as you watched her approach.  
“I don’t think there are enough insults for this situation, dear,” she said sweetly, smiling innocently. 
“Either be helpful or leave, Rowena,” you replied solemnly. 
It had been three days since Dean left, and over two weeks since the whole debacle happened. You had never been more determined to find a solution, nor had you ever felt more defeated. 
“Alright, fine. No need to be cranky,” Rowena tsked, taking a seat across from you. “Go on, then. Walk me through everything.” 
“Fine,” you sighed, steadying yourself before recounting the situation. 
“Let me get this straight,” Rowena declared, holding a hand up. “You actually let him leave? After what he said?” 
“Is that seriously your only take away from this?” you asked angrily, glaring at her. 
“It’s not my only take away, but it’s certainly a big one,” she said calmly, accompanied by a half shrug. “This is the spell you used?” she asked, looking over the book you gave her during your explanation. 
“Yeah, that’s the one,” you confirmed sheepishly. 
“Well, don’t you worry. We’ll have you and Samuel right as rain in no time, dear,” she comforted, eyes never leaving the pages in front of her.
It took another four days, but ‘No time’ finally came. You were practically itching to get this all over and done with as the three of you finished setting everything up. You didn’t even care about being in your own skin again, all you cared about at this point was getting Dean back in your life. He did everything possible to avoid talking to you or Sam each time either of you tried contacting him, and you were missing him more and more with each passing hour.
“That should do it,” Rowena declared, snapping you back to attention. “You know what you need to do?” 
“Yes,” you said quickly, urging her out of the room; the last thing you needed was for her to be around and have the spell go wrong again, resulting in all three of you being scrambled around. 
“Don’t rush it!” she cautioned. “I know you want him back, but you need to take this slowly. You can’t afford another screw up!” 
Her statement made you pause, and you knew she was right. “Go slow, I got it,” you confirmed, shutting her out of the room. 
“Ready?” Sam asked, looking at you eagerly; albeit nervous beyond belief. 
“More than ever,” you declared, taking your place at the altar. 
You began the spell, doing everything slowly and precisely so there was no room for error. Once you had finished, however, nothing had happened. You were just about ready to scream with all the emotions boiling inside of you when suddenly the bowl before you exploded in a cloud of yellow, sending both you and Sam flying. 
“Oh, god,” you groaned, holding a hand to your head as your ears rang. “This again?” you wondered aloud.
“Did it even work?” Sam croaked out.
“I don’t know,” you admitted quietly. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” he said through a fit of coughs. “You?”
“I think so,” you declared, sitting up. It was at that exact moment you realized what happened. “Sam?” you asked breathlessly. 
“Yeah?” he questioned, sitting up himself. “Wait-” 
“I’m-” you began, unable to finish as you stared at your hands; your own hands.
“You’re….” Sam tried, staring at you then down at his body; his very own body.
“You’re you!” you exclaimed in glee, pointing at him.
“You’re you!” he echoed, scrambling to stand.
You followed suit, taking a moment to steady yourself on your own feet. “I need to go,” you announced, not giving him time to reply before you ran out of the room. 
“You’re welcome!” Rowena called after you, watching you run by. 
“Thank you!” you called back absently, hurrying out to your car. 
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The drive took longer than ever before; at least, it felt like it did. You spent the whole time trying to think of what to say, of how to explain, but nothing seemed right. Nothing seemed like enough. All you could hope for was that everything would magically come to you once you stood before him. 
If he ever decided to open the goddamn door. 
“Dammit, Dean! Open the fucking door before I break it down!” you yelled, banging your hand against the wood for the upteenth time. 
You opened your mouth to yell once more, but before you could even make a sound a voice boomed out from behind you. “What are you doing here?” 
You turned with a start, coming face to face with Dean as he stood at the bottom of the steps. “I came to talk to you,” you said simply, taking a few steps forward. 
He quickly averted his gaze, focusing on wiping the grease from his hands with the rag he held. “Coulda just called,” he countered gruffly. 
“Why?” you asked, laughing dryly. “You’d just ignore my calls.” 
He stilled his ministrations for a moment before shrugging, glancing back up at you. “Maybe ‘cause we got nothing to talk about.” 
“Dean-” you tried to argue, though you stopped short when he rolled his eyes and turned away from you. 
“Look, I know all about you and Sam, okay?” he huffed, storming across the drive and to where Baby was parked, hood still open for Dean to continue working on her.  
“Oh, for god’s sake, Dean. There is no me and Sam!” you exclaimed with a groan, quickly following behind him. 
“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he placated, picking up his previously abandoned ratchet. 
“Just listen to me,” you pleaded, watching his face scrunch with a mix of frustration and concentration as he dove back into his work. 
“You don’t need to explain,” he said distractedly. “I get it. He’s good for you. I just-... you didn’t need to hide it, [Y/N/N]. I thought we were closer than that.” 
“We are! That’s not what we were hiding, just let me explain!” you said desperately, stepping closer to him. 
“You can quit the act, okay?” he snapped, stopping what he was doing as he stood up, finally turning to look at you. “I have eyes, I saw what-” 
“Sam and I fucking switched bodies!” you yelled over him, effectively rendering him speechless. “Alright? When you walked in on us doing that spell the other week… it went wrong, Dean. Sam and I, we just-... we switched!”
“You… switched bodies?” he asked slowly, scepticism starting to present itself on his face as he processed what you said.
“Yes,” you confirmed softly. ”I was Sam, Sam was me.”
He nodded, shifting uncomfortably as he anxiously tapped his fingers on Baby’s exterior. “Well, isn’t that just a great story,” he muttered, leaning under the hood once more. 
“It’s not a story,” you argued desperately. “It’s what happened.” 
“Then why not tell me?” he challenged, not missing a beat. 
“Because,” you began lamely. “You always have so much on your plate, Dean. We didn’t want to shove this stupid thing on you and add to your worries.” 
“So you lied to me for my own good?” he asked harshly, gaze not straying from his hands as he worked. 
“We didn’t lie, we just-”
“Avoided the truth,” he finished for you. “Same thing, if you ask me.”
“We thought it was for the best,” you admitted quietly. 
“Oh, yeah,” he agreed sarcastically, throwing his tools down. “Sneaking around, icing me out. Definitely for my best interest, huh?” 
“Dean, please,” you pleaded. “I didn’t come here to fight with you.” 
“Then why did you come, [Y/N]?” he shouted, shutting Baby’s hood. “What did you think was gonna happen here?” 
“Well, I thought-... I just-... I wanted to clear the air,” you stammered. “I wanted to explain.” 
“Well, you explained,” he muttered, busying himself with tidying his mess. 
You watched him silently for a few moments, trying to think of your next move. You decided to ask the question that’s been on your mind since he left: “Were you really planning on actually telling me one day?” 
He let out an irritated sigh, picking up his belongings and moving around to the trunk. “What are you talking about?” 
“Were you really gonna tell me?” you repeated, quickly taking a few steps to meet him at the trunk.  
“Tell you what?” he huffed, irritation oozing off of him as he slammed the toolbox down. 
“How you feel!” you blurted out, taking yet another step towards him. 
“The hell are you talking about?” he questioned, feigning cluelessness. Though the way his body stiffened as he idly messed with the stuff in the trunk betrayed him; he knew what you meant.  
“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” you replied softly. “Were you?” 
“I don’t know!” he huffed, shutting the trunk. “Maybe,” he added, walking away from you once more. 
“You said-” 
“I know what I said!” he interrupted, clearly irritated. “Can we not relive it? I don’t want to talk about this.” 
“Well I do!” you argued, exasperated. “Why the fuck else do you think I’m here, Dean?”
“To clear the air,” he sneered, repeating your earlier words as he made his way back to the cabin. 
“To tell you I love you!” you shouted after him, stopping him in his tracks. “I didn’t choose Sam. How can I choose him when I’ve loved you for years? How can I choose him when my entire world stopped spinning the day you shut me out of your life all those years ago? How can I choose him when I didn’t feel like I could breathe until you finally spoke to me again? How can I choose him, when having to watch you walk away the other day was the most terrifying thing I had to do, because I didn’t know if I’d ever get you back this time? You can put us in any timeline, in any universe, or in any realm, and I will always choose you. I love you.”
You were met with silence for entirely too long, and you watched the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders as he kept his back to you, standing tense as ever with his head down low. 
“Will you just look at me, please?” you pleaded shakily.
As soon as the words left your mouth he spun on his heel and marched towards you, closing the distance between you two in seconds. He grabbed your face in his hands, letting a moment of hesitation pass by before crashing his lips against yours. It was harsh yet delicate, slow but needy. It was gentle and all consuming. His hands strayed from your face, one sweeping to the back of your head to hold you steady while the other slipped to your waist and pulled you close. Your hands found themselves gliding up his arms, resting on the base of his neck for a moment before settling on his cheeks. 
When the two of you finally pulled away to catch your breath, it seemed like neither of you wanted to go too far; foreheads pressed together and noses brushing as you both giggled quietly, shy smiles on your swollen lips. 
You stood like that for a few minutes, basking in each other's presence in ways you never could before, until your gentle whisper cut through the silence: “Please come home, Dean.” 
“My sweet girl,” he said quietly, planting a delicate kiss to your forehead before completely wrapping you up in his arms, holding you closer than ever. “I am home.”
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tagging: @winharry
dividers by @firefly-graphics and @saradika
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aesthetic-babyyy · 5 months
Text
Protective~ Dean Winchester imagine
Warnings// angst, fluff and cock blocking
Word count// 1400
(Gif from Pinterest)
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You Sam and Dean had just finished a pretty rough ghoul hunt, once you guys had all showered the remnants of the night, dean suggested you guys head out for a few drinks to celebrate, once you got to the bar Dean and you slide into a booth, deans arm wrapping around your shoulders pulling you into his side “you get the first round Sammy” Dean said smirking at his brother, Sam rolled his eyes “fine but you’re next” he said walking to the bar
“So how you feeling after you’re first ghoul sweetheart” you looked up at your boyfriend “well I’ve gotta say I won’t be chasing one for a very long time, much prefer a simple salt and burn” Dean chuckled kissing the side of your head, “alright beers are severed” Sam said sitting down with the drinks “thanks Sammy” you said taking a drink out the bottle
You and the guys were having a great time talking about passed hunts before you’d met them “he just looked at me all upset and said ‘I lost my shoe’ all because he lost the damn rabbits foot” Dean laughed finishing his second beer, “alright my round boys just another beer?”you questioned getting up “yeah thanks Y/N” Sam said “yeah me too thank you sweetheart” you hooded moving to the slightly crowded bar you quickly got the bar tenders attention “hi three beers please” the man nodded “that’ll be 12 bucks gorgeous” he said placing three beers in front of you, you nodded handing him a 20 dollar bill, the bar tender went to get your change leaving you standing for a few minutes
“what’s a beautiful girl like you doing at a place like this” a man grumbled out from one of the bar stools, he looked to be a drunk creep no younger than mid 50s “I’m here with my boyfriend and friend” you said back hoping he’d back off at the boyfriend comment “ah bet your boyfriend doesn’t treat you like I would” the man said moving closer to you “look buddy I’m not interested I’m in a relationship” he didn’t seem too happy with that “you better watch yourself you bitch I’m giving you a choice the only thing you should be saying is yes sir, because that’s the only damn thing you’ll be saying when I’m pounding you in front of your little boyfriend you slut!” he spat out, “is there a problem here miss?” The bartender asked returning with your change “no everything’s fine thanks” you said grabbing the change stuffing it in your pocket before taking the beers back to the winchesters
“Hey sweetheart everything good? You were gone a while” Dean said grabbing his beer and pulling you back to your place at his side “yeah fine just waiting for my change” you answered quietly, you could see the man from the bar staring at you his hand holding his glass tightly in his grasp as he wouldn’t break eye contact “I’m gonna head back to the motel after this one guys I’m pretty tired” you said feeling uncomfortable either the stares the man wa giving you, dean nodded “yeah I think we’ll all head out then, you good with that Sam?” Dean questioned, Sam nodded
Once you guys finished your drinks you made your way to the exit, from the corner of your eye you seen the man get up, following your trail to the exit, starting to feel scared you grabbed deans hand tight, Dean turned to look at you concerned “you okay Y/N? You hands really sweaty” you nodded to answer him too nervous to even speak, you thought the night air would make you feel better but knowing the man was following behind was just making your feel sick, before you could get into baby dean stopping you, both hands on your arms as he looked at you “sweetheart my job is lying for a living, I know somethings bothering you and I can’t fix it if you don’t tell me what it is” Dean asked alerting Sam “what’s going on?”
Sighing you looked behind the brothers to find the man staring at you from behind a car “there was a guy at the bar, he freaked me out a little bit I didn’t care too much until he sat staring at me for the last hour so I wanted to leave but he followed us out here” you said, your heart pounding in your chest, Dean got an angry look on his face as he turned searching the parking lot “where the hell is he!” Dean moved to look around finding him quickly, Dean stormed over “hey! The hell do you want jackass? You think you can harass my girlfriend I wouldn’t find out” Dean grabbed the man by his shirt “not my fault she’s a whore man, just wanted a little taste of her sweet p-”Dean didn’t let him finish his sentence before he was released punching him in the face “my nose!” The man yelped but dean wasn’t done yet, Sam was holding you in a hug blocking the fight from your eyes
Once dean was done teaching the man a lesson in how to respect women he walked back over to you and sam “alright he’s down, let’s get back to the motel” Dean said getting in the drivers seat. Once you guys made it back to the motel you followed the brothers back to the room, Sam went into the bathroom leaving you and Dean alone
sighing dean sat on the bed you two would be sharing, he started to wrap his bloody knuckles you let out a shaky breath before sitting beside him and taking his hand “I got it” you said taking out the rubbing alcohol and rubbing it on his wounds, Dean flinched slightly at the sting “why didn’t you tell me earlier?” He asked softly you looked up giving him a small smile “I just didn’t want to bother you, I just didn’t realise how big a creep the guy was till he followed us out” dean nodded “sweetheart if someone or something is ever bothering you I don’t give a rats ass how by or small, you tell me and I will take care of it” you nodded “yeah I will I’m sorry dean” Dean was shaking his head “you have nothing to be sorry for Y/N you did nothing wrong” you wrapped your arms around deans shoulders pulling him to a hug, we wrapped his own around your waist holding you close to him
You pulled away to give him a small kiss, however a small kiss with Dean was never really just a small kiss, this one being no different as Dean was swiping his to tongue along your bottom lip, you parted your lips allowing dean to explore your mouth, you moaned quietly when dean pushed you slightly to lay back on the bed as he moved to lean on top of you as you continued to make out, deans hand was tugging at the hem of your shirt, and just when you were about to take it off the bathroom door opened, the younger Winchester emerged in his pyjama pants and shirt “seriously!” He yelped turning away
Dean sighed moving to stand up “relax Sammy were decent” you chuckled as you moved to get up and get changed in the bathroom, Dean following close behind “seriously don’t guys I don’t want a repeat of the hunt back in Chicago” you giggled “I promise Sammy we’ll keep it PG” you and Dean changed into your sleepwear, Dean sporting the same as sam, minus the shirt, he found them to be annoying when it got too hot in bed, you in a pair of shorts and deans old led zeppelin shirt
When you both emerged from the bathroom Sam was already tucked in for the night, all lights off minus the one in the bathroom, you and Dean made your way to the bed getting in either side Dean quickly grabbed your waist tugging you close enough so you could rest your head on his bare chest and tangle your legs together “we’re definitely getting our own room next hunt” Dean whispered kissing the top of your head, you chuckled at his remark closing your eyes “whatever you say Winchester”
____________________________________________
Hi there!
just a short little Dean Winchester imagine to fill the void
Thanks for reading!
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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months
Text
Across Every Universe
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff 
Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.
Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.
That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.
He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.
Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.
“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.
“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”
“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”
“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”
“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.
“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”
“My hero.”
You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.
He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.
“So, did you tell her how you feel?”
“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”
“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”
Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.
The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m doing alright but not any better.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”
“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.
Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.
“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”
Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.
“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”
Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”
“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”
“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”
“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.
He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.
“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”
“Y/N?”
“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.
They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.
“She kissed me, dude.”
“What?”
“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”
“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”
Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”
Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.
Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.
“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”
“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”
“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”
“How?” he whispers.
You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.
You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.
Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.
“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we just lay here instead?”
“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”
You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.
“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”
Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.
“We’re married?”
“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just… really happy.”
You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dean sighs.
“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”
“What if we didn’t leave?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The love of my life is my wife here.”
“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”
Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”
“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”
And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.
The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.
“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”
“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”
“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.
“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.
This is where he belongs. Right next to you.
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1K notes · View notes
cosmicanakin · 27 days
Text
picking up the pieces.
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
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pairing. dean winchester x female reader.
outline. a heated argument with dean leads to a vulnerable confession of your long-held feelings.
word count. 1546.
warning(s). angst, arguments, implied sexual tension, mild language, season 1 dean, mature themes (nothing too explicit).
authors note. back with a new fic whaaaat?! i recently started rewatching supernatural to mend my broken heart after the season 15 finale… they deserved so much better & just thinking about it pisses me tf off. anyway i was listening to stairway to heaven for hours on end while writing this (that song is my childhood.) enjoooooy!
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You stared out the window of the Impala, watching the roads and scenery fly by as Led Zeppelin played softly in the background. The familiar rumble of the engine and the comfort of the leather seats usually provided a sense of peace, but today all you could feel was tension.
You and Dean had gotten into a nasty argument earlier, one that had been brewing for a while now. It was about his careless flirtation with other women, even when you two weren’t officially exclusive. You couldn’t help the feelings you had harbored for him over the years, feelings that only seemed to grow stronger the more time you spent together on the road. And it hurt to see him so freely give his attention and affection to anyone but you.
You tried to push those thoughts aside, to focus on the music and the drive. But it was impossible to ignore the way Dean kept stealing glances in your direction, the way his hand would occasionally graze your thigh in a move that had become comfortable and familiar between the two of you. Each subtle touch sent a jolt of electricity through your body, a painful reminder of what you couldn’t have.
As the familiar chords of the song played on, you closed your eyes and tried to will yourself to sleep, to escape this tense situation, even if just for a little while. But just as you felt yourself starting to drift off, Dean’s hand suddenly landed firmly on your inner thigh, sending your eyes flying open as your heart raced.
Without a word, Dean pulled the Impala over to the side of the road, putting the car in park before turning to face you. The intensity in his green eyes made your breath catch in your throat, and you found yourself unable to look away.
“We need to talk,” he said, his voice low and serious.
You swallowed hard, every fiber of your being telling you to run, to avoid this conversation at all costs. But you knew it was inevitable, that the tension between the two of you had been building for too long to ignore any longer.
“Okay,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper.
Dean studied you for a moment, his gaze searching your face for something you couldn’t quite decipher. Finally, he let out a heavy sigh and ran a hand through his short, spiky hair.
“Look, I know things have been...tense between us lately,” he began, his eyes never leaving yours. “And I know a lot of that is my fault.”
You opened your mouth to interrupt, to argue that it was his fault, that his reckless flirting had hurt you more than you cared to admit. But he held up a hand, silencing you.
“Please, just let me say this,” he pleaded. “I’m not good at this whole...feelings thing. You know that. But I’ve been thinking a lot about what happened earlier, and I...” He paused, his brow furrowing as he struggled to find the right words.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally, his voice sincere. “I never meant to hurt you, I swear. It’s just...old habits die hard, you know? And I...” He hesitated, his gaze dropping to his hands, which were fidgeting nervously in his lap. “I guess I was...afraid.”
Your eyes widened in surprise at his confession, and you couldn’t help but lean forward slightly, your curiosity piqued.
“Afraid of what, Dean?” you asked softly.
He let out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head. “Afraid of this,” he said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. “Afraid of...of letting myself feel something real, something that could actually last.”
Your heart ached at his words, the raw vulnerability in his voice cutting you deeper than any of his careless flirtations ever could. You knew, deep down, that Dean had been through more than his fair share of pain and loss in his life, and the thought of him being afraid to open himself up to you only made you love him more.
“Dean...” you began, your voice trembling slightly. “I...I had no idea.”
He looked up then, his green eyes meeting yours, and you were struck by the raw emotion you saw there. “I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And that’s my fault. I...I’ve been pushing you away, because I’m scared of what this could be. Of what we could be.”
You felt your heart skip a beat at his words, hope and fear warring within you. “What are you saying, Dean?”you asked, fiddling with your thumbs.
He reached out then, his calloused hand coming to rest on your thigh again, his thumb brushing against it in a gentle caress. “I’m saying that...I care about you, more than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I’m tired of pretending that I don’t.”
You felt your breath catch in your throat, your eyes flooding with tears as the weight of his words settled over you. “Dean, I...I care about you, too. So much,” you whispered, your voice shaking.
A small, tentative smile tugged at the corners of his lips, and he reached up to gently brush a stray tear from your cheek. “I know,” he murmured. “And that’s what scares me the most.”
You nodded, understanding dawning on you. “Because you’re afraid of losing me, too,” you said softly.
He nodded, his hand moving to cup your face, his thumb caressing your cheek. “Yeah,” he breathed. “I’ve already lost so much in my life, Y/N. I don’t think I could handle losing you, too.”
You leaned into his touch, savoring the warmth and comfort of his hand on your skin. “You won't lose me, Dean,” you whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He studied your face for a long moment, his green eyes boring into yours, before slowly leaning in. Your heart raced as his lips brushed against yours, soft and tentative at first, before deepening into a passionate kiss.
When you finally broke apart, you were both breathing heavily, your foreheads resting against each other. “I love you, Y/N,” Dean murmured, his voice barely audible but you heard him clear as day.
“I love you, too, Dean,” you whisper, your fingers tangling in the short strands of his hair.
For a long moment, the two of you simply sat there, lost in each other’s embrace, the tension and pain of earlier melting away. But then, a thought occurred to you, and you pulled back slightly, your brow furrowing.
“What about Sam?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern. “I mean, we’re on our way to pick him up from Stanford, and I don’t want him to feel...I don’t know, awkward or anything.”
Dean chuckled softly, his thumb tracing the curve of your jaw. “Don’t worry about Sammy,” he said, a mischievous glint in his eye. “He’s been rooting for us to get our heads out of our asses for years.”
You couldn't help but laugh at that, the tension in your shoulders finally starting to ease. “I should have known,” you said, shaking your head in amusement.
Dean grinned, pulling you in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. When you finally broke apart, you were both breathless again, your hearts racing.
“So, what does this mean for us?” you asked, your voice soft and uncertain.
Dean's expression turned serious, his hand moving to intertwine with yours. “It means that I’m all in, Y/N,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “No more flirting with other women, no more pushing you away. I want this, us, more than anything.”
You felt your heart swell with emotion, tears of joy threatening to spill over. “Me too, Dean,” you whispered, squeezing his hand gently. “I’m in, too.”
He smiled then, a genuine, warm smile that lit up his entire face, and you couldn't help but lean in and kiss him again, savoring the feeling of his lips on yours, the warmth of his body against yours.
As you pulled apart, Dean’s expression turned mischievous once more. “So, what do you say we give Sammy another day and find us a nice, secluded spot to...celebrate?" he asked wiggling his brows, a hint of suggestiveness in his tone.
You couldn’t help but laugh at what you were hearing, playfully swatting his arm. “Dean Winchester, you are such a hornball,” you teased.
He grinned, his grip on your hand tightening. “Maybe so, but you love me anyway,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet confidence that made your heart flutter.
“That I do,” you murmured, leaning in to kiss him once more.
As the Impala rumbled back to life and Dean guided the car back onto the open road, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of peace and contentment wash over you. The tension and hurt of earlier had been replaced by a deep, abiding love and trust, and you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Dean would face them together.
You nestled closer to Dean as he drove, your hand still intertwined with his, and Stairway to Heaven filling the air, you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to bask in the feeling of pure, unadulterated happiness.
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Lost Comfort
masterlist
summary: dean hurt you when he was a demon, now it’s hard to sleep next to him
paring: dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language, violent themes
word count: 1.1k
warnings: please read! talk of serious sexual assault, demon!dean being worse than he was in the show, (he wasn’t even that bad in the show, but he’s bad in this), language
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“Dean, stop, this isn’t you!” you shrieked, pushing the demon’s arm away. It was no use. Dean was stronger than you when he wasn’t a supernatural being, but now you didn’t even stand a chance.
“C’mon, sweetheart, I know you love me,” he laughed, black eyes staring at you.
“Of course I do Dean, but I know you love me too and this isn’t love! Please get off of me!” you sobbed.
Your eyes flung open, a thin layer of sweat coating your forehead. You blinked away the dream and took in your surroundings, before realizing Dean’s arms were wrapped tightly around you.
“Dean, let me go,” you said. It came out as barely a whisper. Even if he was awake he wouldn’t have heard you. “Dean, please- fuck, let me go!” you repeated, but you were still barely speaking. “Dean let go!” you screamed, which woke him up.
“Y/n?” He furrowed his brows. “Hey, you okay?”
“Dean let me go! Now!” you cried. He flung his arms open and you hurried out of the bed. “God fucking damn it! I told you to let me go and you didn’t!”
“I- I’m sorry, hun I was asleep I swear I didn’t hear you,” he said quietly as he sat up.
“This was a mistake, I can’t sleep next to you! What was I thinking?” you scoffed. “I’m sleeping in the Dean Cave, I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Wait, no don’t go! I’ll go sleep on the couch, you stay here!” He got out of bed but didn’t miss the flinch you threw when he walked towards you. “I’m so sorry.”
Sam suddenly burst through the door; gun in one hand and holy water in the other.
“What happened? He a demon again?” Sam asked you, his eyes wide.
“Just a bad dream.” You shook your head. You brushed past Sam and walked towards the Dean Cave before stopping in your tracks. You hurried back to yours and Dean’s room.
“I still love you, Dean, I just need a bit of time, okay?” You smiled sadly, noticing the tears now on his face as he nodded.
“I love you, take all the time you need,” he replied.
With that you left.
“Dude, what the fuck happened?” Sam asked, putting his gun and the holy water down. “She’s never left you after a dream before, has she?”
“I- I think the dream was about me,” Dean whispered. “Fuck, I really hurt her this time Sam. I- I don’t think she’s gonna be able to forgive me.”
“This is Y/n, Dean,” Sam started, “she’d do anything for you. I think she just needs time.”
“But you don’t know what I did.” Dean let silent tears fall as he thought about what his demon self had done to you.
“I mean, it couldn’t have been that bad?” Sam scoffed a little then Dean looked at him. “Right?”
Dean bit the inside of his cheek and shook his head, looking down. “I r-ruh—god, I can’t even say it out loud.”
“Oh god,” Sam muttered, internally jumping to (correct) conclusions. “It’s been like two weeks, Dean. Of course she can’t stand to sleep next to you.”
“But it wasn’t me!” Dean cried. “I hate myself so fucking much for taking this stupid fucking mark and letting it consume me.”
“Dean-”
“Don’t get me wrong, I do not blame her if she doesn’t wanna ever see me again, but fuck! I’d do anything to fix this.”
“Just give her space.” Sam shrugged. “I think that’s all you can do right now. Whatever future your relationship with her has, is completely up to her.” As he turned to leave, he added; “But also be prepared for her not to forgive you for this. I don’t think she’ll be able to.” With that Sam left.
**
“Dean please!?” you screamed. “Dean, I love you! I know you’re in there somewhere, please stop!”
You woke up alone in the Dean Cave, beads of sweat rolling down your temples.
“Shit!” you mumbled, letting tears fall.
You sat up on the couch and tucked your knees into your chest. You checked the clock and realized you’d only gotten about forty-five minutes of sleep since your last dream.
You tried to go back to sleep but every time you closed your eyes you were met with the horrid memories; Dean hovering over you with his demon eyes.
You tossed and turned for a while before you realized there was only one person in the world who could make you feel better and he was the one person you couldn’t stand to touch right now. You huffed to yourself as you got up and left the Dean Cave.
When you opened the bedroom door you were met with Dean crying softly into your pillow, facing away from the door.
“Hey,” you said quietly, your voice laced with trace amounts of fear. His eyes flung open and he slowly sat up.
“Hey, uh- what’re you- what’re you doing here, uh, Y/n?” He stumbled over his words and wiped his tears away with his hands. He put his feet to the hardwood to stand up but you backed away and shook your head. You didn’t want to be that close to him.
“I- I’m still scared of you, I’m sorry,” you whispered. “But I love you,” you added quickly. “I love you so fucking much and I know I can’t sleep next to you, but I can’t sleep properly without you. So, I uh, I’m just gonna sleep in here… on the floor.”
“What? Honey you can’t sleep on the floor,” Dean said. “I’ll sleep on the floor, you can have the bed.”
“No, cause then I’ll feel bad about kicking you out of bed,” you mumbled, causing Dean to smile a little.
“How about this; we both sleep on the floor by our sides of the bed. That way neither of us feel bad about the other, we’re far enough apart, and we can see each other from under the bed.”
“I’d like that.” You smiled softly. “Can I maybe use your pillow though, looks like you soaked mine,” you laughed a little, causing him to do the same.
“I’d actually prefer to use yours,” he replied and tossed you his pillow. “Smells like you.”
You took a whiff of the pillow now in your hands. “Is that the aftershave I bought you?” He nodded with a smile. “Perfect!”
You waited until Dean was on the floor of his side of the bed before you went to your side and laid down. When you put your head to the pillow, you were met with Dean’s soft smile a few feet away.
“Is this okay?” he asked, you nodded.
“I love you, Dean,” you whispered. You reached an arm out under the bed so Dean did the same, your fingers touching in the middle.
“I love you so much, Y/n.”
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wearywinchester · 9 months
Text
Soft Touch
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Comforting Dean might seem like a hefty task, but all he needs is you.
Requested by Anonymous: “request!! can you write something where the reader comforts dean after a bad day, it doesn’t have to be major trauma or anything just dean needing physical touch and not knowing how to ask for it and the reader making sure he’s comfortable and okay and just a bunch of fluff and comfort”
Warnings: angst, language, injury, alcohol, fluff
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The bunker was fairly quiet, near completely. Sam was tucked away in his room, and if you had to guess, he was probably doing research. It’s what he’d been doing in the library for a little while, sitting there quietly with a few lore books and his laptop before he gathered his stuff with a polite goodnight and went to his room.
Sam Winchester is the only person you know that decompresses after a hunt by researching for the next.
You heard the sound of his tv when you walked by, muffled and soft. The sound of your footfalls accompanied it, a soft set of taps on the cold floor as you wandered about in search of your beau.
He hadn’t been in bed at all, his side still made. It wasn’t uncommon for him, not really, but he’d had a rough day.
It was a seven hour drive back to the bunker, and he was damn near running on fumes because he hadn’t slept well the night before. The motel bed was not doing any favors, stiff and thin enough to feel the springs dig into your muscles. The dip in the center made an uncomfortable pit, and he was just about ready to snag you and sleep in the Impala. He couldn’t sleep nearly as well without you.
He was sore from the hunt, muscles aching and begging for a bath, but he wasn’t the biggest fan of them. He’d obtained a myriad of injuries, none serious or major, but the combination was a melting pot of misery when you put them together. Not to mention the constant state of war he’s in with his own mind.
The halls still smelled like dinner, pizza and a mix of burgers, something quick and easy. None of you had the energy to do more than takeout.
You heard the quiet hum of the lights lining the hall, and your sigh upon seeing an empty library, and an empty map room. The bathroom was empty too, and the Dean cave he’d set up. There was no note on the desk by the bed, so that was an indication he was still there.
But your search wasn’t very lengthy much to your relief, a simple glance into the kitchen revealing just the one you were looking for.
His back was to you as he stood at the sink. He’d discarded his shirt after dinner, a habit he’d gotten into as of late. He got hot very easily, and it was a simple and more comfortable solution. Besides, you wouldn’t complain about that.
The muscles in his back tensed and moved as he washed the dishes in the sink, those damn hotdog pajama pants sitting on his hips.
His hair was a bit tangled and mussed, brushing against the nape of his neck and curling outward. He’d been growing it out, same for his beard, a mixture of not having as much time to handle it and wanting to try something new.
You saw a half drank glass of whiskey on the table as you passed it, the uncapped bottle sitting next to it.
He knew you were there, heard the soft pattern of your footfalls, not to mention he could sense your presence regardless of hearing you or not. But it was confirmed when you reached up and tucked his hair behind his ear.
He pulled his gaze from the plate in his hand, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“Thought you’d run off for good,” you teased, your eyes meeting his.
His chuckle was soft and sweet, accompanied by a shake of his head. “Ain’t runnin’ off without taking you with me, sweetheart.”
“Well, ain’t that a relief?”
You notice the grin that tugs at the corner of his mouth, tired but surely present.
He rinses off that last plate, sticking it in the drying rack on the counter before wiping his hands dry on the tea towel draped over the sink. He turns to you, hands settling on your hips before they glide forwards, snaking themselves around your waist and tugging you closer. They were warm and calloused, the perfect combination.
You rested your hands on his chest, his skin warm and radiating to you. Your gaze shifts to the scrape on his shoulder, fading into a cut. He hadn’t tended to it, not really, nor did his mess with the one on his bicep and just above his beard on his cheekbone.
“How about we get you cleaned up, then head to bed?” You say, tipping your head back to look at him.
He took one of his hands from where it rested around you to settle by your cheek and tangle with the hair at the nape of your neck.
“You sayin’ I didn’t do a good job?” He asks, and you just barely saw the raise of his brow under the hair that fell over his forehead.
“Pretty much,” you answer with a shrug, a smile tugging at your lips at the sight of his frown and crease between his brows.
He tugged you in closer abruptly and you made a delighted noise of surprise, moving your hands from his chest to wrap up around his shoulders. His nose bumped against yours, the brush of his lips gentle before he they pressed a kiss on your own. It was lingering and sweet, borderline steamy before he parted, only to press one, two, three more to your lips.
“Trying to distract me?” You ask, furrowing your brows with a soft smile as you look at him.
He chuckles as he shakes his head, brushing your hair out of your face. “Oh sweetheart, I wouldn’t have to try to do that.”
You bite the inside of your cheek to hide your smile, instead rolling your eyes as you wriggle from his arms.
“Sit down, Winchester,” you say, walking towards the cupboard.
You hear his sigh as you grab the first aid kit, freshly replenished a few days ago. You hear that sigh but when you turn around, sure enough he’s taken his seat at the kitchen table, swirling his unfinished glass of whiskey in his hand before gulping it down and pouring another.
Now it’s your turn to sigh, head shaking softly and he most definitely heard it.
You open the lid to the kit, pondering over what you wanted before it came to mind. You snagged a package of an alcohol wipe, and the small bottle of antiseptic, grabbing a small stack of gauze.
None of his injuries were severe, but it’s no good for any wound, superficial or not, to have dirt trapped in it while it tries to heal.
Anyone knew that. Anyone except Dean Winchester.
Well, it’s not that he didn’t know, he very much did. He just lacked a certain caring when it came to himself. And by lacking, he didn’t care at all. He was always that way. He cared enough to eat and bathe, to brush his teeth and at least have you brush his hair, though that was purely because he secretly not so secretly enjoys how it feels. But in actuality, he didn’t care much for himself, didn’t see a reason to.
In fact, the only reason he cared even a little bit was so he could be around to protect you and Sam, didn’t have anything to do with himself.
“No more liquor, De,” you sigh, capping the bottle and pushing it away from his reach.
You didn’t fail to notice the way he looked at you for it, brows furrowed and gaze narrowed. And you didn’t fail to notice the way those dimples formed by the corners of his mouth, barely visible through his beard but you knew with one hundred percent certainty that they were there.
That was his form of self care. A bottle of whiskey or a six pack of beer. But that was no form of caring at all, no form of soothing.
You simply lift your hand and run it over his head, caressing over his hair, your thumb brushing over his cheek softly. Your hand drops to rest under his chin, tipping his head back to drop a soft kiss to his lips, something that made your words sound not so bad to him now. So much so that he made a noise of discontent when you pulled away to tend to those wounds of his.
He didn’t care about a damn scrape or two, he wanted you.
You sigh as you tear open a couple packets of alcohol wipes, plucking one from its package and unfolding it.
You started with his arm, holding his bicep in your hand, cumbersome at best because he’d become quite muscular as of late. You noticed the slight twitch he’d made in reaction to the cold alcohol stinging the open scrape, but it’d barely shown on his face, hard for anyone but you to tell.
You cleaned away the excess dirt and blood with gentle swipes. You set down the dirtied wipe on the table, reaching for the gauze and bottle of antiseptic. You squeezed a generous amount on, returning your grip on his arm as you dabbed it directly on the scrape this time.
He may think you were being dramatic, you knew it did. It was only a few scrapes, the most superficial of injuries you can get. The equivalent of a paper cut in the world of hunting. But you were all about caring for your big, strong tough guy even if he couldn’t give a damn about any of it when it came to himself.
“You should really take better care of yourself after hunts, De,” you say, beginning to repeat the process on his shoulder.
“I ain’t gonna die from a couple of scrapes and scratches, sweetheart,” he says, as careless as ever, his tone lighthearted.
You exhale a huff, tossing the second wipe down in a more obvious show of your frustration.
“Would you want me to say that about myself?” You ask, brow raised in challenge.
“Y/n,” he said sternly.
You could tell he was angry, or the beginnings of it. His jaw was tense, along with his shoulders. You could feel it under your palm, a noticeable difference. Not to mention the look on his face alone was enough of a giveaway.
That crease between his brows never left, only deepened by your words. Those dimples were still adorning the corners of his mouth unable to be masked by the beard that framed his jaw. Nor could it hide the subtle flush in his cheeks, tinged with anger and frustration.
To him, the comparison was incomparable. So ridiculously, unbelievably able to be compared because he was not in the same bracket as you. He’ll, he’d die for you, and has. He’s sold his damn soul to a low life demon just so you would be okay, and he’d do it again in a heartbeat. He’d rather get torn to shreds by a werewolf, become some wendigo’s dinner, be made into some monsters toy than have so much as a hand laid on you.
The comparison between you and him was one he could not make. Because you were the world, a radiant being and far better than the angels he’s seen in his lifetime and he knows it for a fact. You were his world and he was simply a fleck in it. He’s always felt that way, and the whole idea has been putting a strain on him for as long as he can remember.
He always hated that you were a hunter, because dammit it scared him more than anything. He’s seen what monsters do to people, innocent lives. He’s seen what the life does to those who enter it, how it changes them, he’s one of them. He’s seen the sheer trauma it’s put you through, the agony and pain. He sees it with every case, every hunt that’s added to the endless chart.
If he thinks about it for too long, it’ll drive him insane, push him over the edge of emotion and into a fit of rage. And that, that reaction alone only adds to the self hatred he feels. To be an angry person when you’re so delicate and everything he wishes he could be. It spirals into every avenue.
He couldn’t bring himself to put caring about a scrape on himself at the same level as an injury on you. He couldn’t do it. Even so much as a paper cut on you would have him furrowing his brows. It’d need something as simple as a bandaid and he’d be sure to put it on, giving you hell if you tried to brush it off.
No matter the severity, if you were hurt in any way, shape, or form, it mattered to him.
He didn’t give a damn about himself, he gave a damn about you.
He didn’t say anything else, and you sighed, softening your glare and settling your hand on his other cheek.
You noticed the way he leaned into your touch, however, his hair falling in the direction it so pleased as he tilted his head and tipped it back, his eyes falling closed.
Dean Winchester was rough, tough and rugged. There was no denying that. He was stereotypical, and put up every front he felt he needed to. But when everything is stripped away, when it came down to it, Dean was a man of comfort. That’s really all he’s ever wanted, no matter how much he refused to say it.
But it’s a trait that’s guarded with extra security, one he tries to keep on lock down from you even, but he can’t keep that from his source of comfort. He’d be foolish to think he’d be able to keep that from you.
The subtle flush in his cheeks had accentuated his freckles, soft flecks kissing along his skin, almost comically delicate in contrast to the tough persona he puts on. Especially the way his lashes curled over top of them when his eyes were closed.
You were gentler this time if that were possible, gentler in comparison to the other two you just tended to. His skin was angry and red around the uneven scrape, some of it smudged lightly with blood and some not.
His beard felt prickly and soft all the same against your palm, the longest he’s ever let it grow. His hair fell over his eyes, glimmers of green breaking through as he opened them to look at you.
He didn’t say anything, just looked. His gaze is softer than it was moments before, looking at every detail he can soak in as if he’d never see them again. Quiet as he admired. His expression was unreadable, yet so openly blatant all the same.
You knew he’d calmed down from a couple minutes ago. You knew it with the way his hands grasped your hips and pulled you closer. You sat down on his lap, a soft sigh exhaling past your lips.
“Well, I was all done anyway,” you say, tone lighthearted and teasing as you toss what was in your hand to the side.
“Oh good,” he says, pulling you all the more closer.
He tucks you into himself as tightly as possible, and you feel how deeply he inhaled as his face settled against the crook of your neck briefly, felt his exhale against your skin.
This. This was all he ever needed. All the comfort he’d known and cared for.
His warmth was unbeatable, his skin smooth and heated as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
“I could get used to this no shirt thing, you know,” you said, soft but mischievous, that smile of yours plenty proof of it.
You hear his chuckle, see that half grin of his as he looks at you with half open eyes, a chunk of hair dipped between his brows in a damn prince charming sort of way.
“Yeah?” He inquires, though he knows your answer already.
You simply respond with a nod and a soft laugh that sends a feeling of warmth through his chest like it’s the first time he’s heard it. Nearly sent over the edge when that laugh presses to his lips and dissolves into a kiss.
Damn was he ever lucky, any tension he’s carried having long since dissipated just from your mere presence.
He’d felt absolutely miserable, purely stuck below the surface of his thoughts that never fail to drown him. But in that moment, it didn’t seem to matter so much. They could be thoughts to worry about some other time.
Because right now he’s got you.
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Text
snowed in
-warnings// lots of fluff, LOTS OF SMUT
-a lil summery// the usual fan fiction trope, two best friends in a cabin, will they kiss.. read to find out
Dean x reader
-word count// 2623
(gif from pinterest)
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"Yeah, the doors completely blocked in by the snow, I've tried pushing Sammy it's not gonna budge, yeah okay I'll call in the morning. night Sammy" you sat on the bed as you listened to the phone conversation, you and the boys were hunting a wendigo and decided to split up, you with dean and Sam with Bobby
You and Dean stumbled upon a cabin in the woods and decided to check it out incase there was any victims hiding inside, turns out the place was empty but Dean slammed the door behind him causing the snow from the roof to barricade the door stopping you both from leaving.
Dean hung up the phone and turned to you with a sigh and dropped his tense shoulders "alright so Sam and Bobby are too far out and they said the storms only gonna get worse so they're gonna come get us in the morning"  Dean said placing his phone back in his jacket pocket "crap we can't even get out to get wood for the fire, it's gonna be freezing in here!" You said already beginning to feel the chill in the air
"Yeah.. well there's some blankets on the couch so you wrap yourself up nice and tight  I'll try and see if I can find some wood around the place that will get some kind of fire going" Dean said already rummaging through the cupboards.
You shivered slightly as you wrapped the worn red blanket around you as you sat down, your knees tucked under your chin in a huddle, there was a sound of wood snapping and dean was soon walking to the couch "so good news is we've got wood, the bad news... these people no longer have cupboard doors" Dean said with a small smirk 
You rolled your eyes with a laugh, "alright get them burning Winchester I already feel my toes going numb" you exaggerated making dean chuckle "you got it sweetheart" Dean said as he kneeled down with a light and the doors.
After a half hour of Dean breaking the doors down to fit in the fireplace he had the flame going and soon there was more heat surrounding the small cabin "any better sweetheart?" Dean turned to ask, you shook your head slightly "I think I'd feel a lot warmer if you got up here beside me" you flirted 
Dean threw you a smirk over his shoulder and moved beside you and pulled your small frame closer to him and tucking you under his arm, you snuggled into him and moved to wrap the red blanket around you both, "see I'm already feeling much better" you said making Dean chuckle.
You and dean continued to cuddle and watch the fire burn for a few hours talking about past hunts before you met each other "okay so you stuck a fish in the guys car, did you ever hear what happened after, did they find it or are they still driving around smelling dead fish?" You questioned and dean threw his head back in laughter as he thought back on the cherished memory "I hope they're still driving around with it" 
You yawned as the laughter died down to a comfortable silence and dean took notice "you getting tired sweetheart?" He asked and you nodded "yeah do you know what time it is?" You questioned "1:45am, there's a bedroom down the hall why don't you go get some sleep and hopefully Sam and Bobby will be here early" you nodded with another yawn
 "what about you?" Dean shrugged "i can take the couch it's actually not too bad" Dean replied and you nodded feeling bad about him taking a dusty old couch for a bed "you sure you'll be okay?" You asked and Dean smiled pulling you in tight to him for a hug "yeah of course sweetheart, I've slept on worse" he joked and you smiled before getting up with a big stretch "night dean" you said walking towards the room exhausted "night Y/N" his voices raised slightly so you could hear him.
You awoke a few hours later in a cold sweat, fear trembled within you from the nightmare as you wondered if you should bother dean, your inner battle didn't last long before your bare feet tiptoed through the cabin to the living room the dying fire allowed enough light so you could see the older Winchester, he looked so peaceful as he slept, like he never had a worry in his life but that was far from true…
You gently tapped deans arm "dean?" You sniffled and he groaned slowly opening his eyes "hey, what's up sweetheart, everything okay?" He slurred out you shook your head before taking a deep breathe "uh not really could you stay with me please I just don't want to be alone" you said as a few tears made there way down your cheeks , Dean got up from the couch quickly and pulled you into him "of course I can, you wanna tell me what's got you so upset?" He asked wiping your tears gently from your cheeks "not really, it was just a nightmare but it felt so real" you said quietly and dean nodded as he lead you toward the bedroom.
Deans and you made your way to the bed "which side do you prefer?" He asked scratching the back of his head "I'm usually a middle of the bed kind of girl" you flirted making him smirk "well alright I can work with that" you both made your way into the cold bed and dean was already wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to his chest 
You sighed and turn around in his arms so your facing him, he was already looking down at you "you wanna tell me what your nightmare was about sweetheart? He asked as he moved a strand of hair behind your ear, you took in a shuddering breath and closed your eyes already feeling them burn with tears
 "we were hunting a demon nest  and they had you tied up as they tortured  you to the brink of death  and when I tried to help it was like I was stuck in place and I could hear you screaming, begging for me to help… and then I woke up" you said I'm a shaky voice as you felt your tears stream down your face
"Hey it's okay baby it was just a bad dream okay? I am right here and nothing's getting me I promise" Dean reassured you as he kissed your forehead head before resting his own against yours, nose to nose as he spoke "your one of the best damn hunters I've ever known Y/N I would trust you with my life and I know you would do everything in your power to save me or Sammy and if anything ever did happen don't you dare blame yourself, I need you to promise me that" dean said quietly 
"I can't promise that Dean, Sam and you mean way to much to me to promise that " you struggled out through tears and dean sighed and held you closer "I love you Y/N, so damn much" dean said quietly his lips slightly touching yours with how close he was, you froze in his arms not expecting that to come from dean, you've been in love with him for years you thought nothing would ever happen especially with deans one night stands happening every so often, you guys flirted back and forth all the time but you took that as Dean's personality 
Dean having taken your frozen silence as rejection panicked and pulled back "forget I said anything" he said as he pulled back slightly to get out the bed, you came out of your moment of shock and grabbed his arm pulling him down to you, he looked down shocked, you grabbed his scruff covered cheeks and pulled him down to a kiss
Dean groaned against your lips as he deepened the kiss and slipped his tongue in through your lips, you let out a small moan at the sensation, you wrapped your legs around his haps your feet digging into his lower back making him press his lower body closer to you so you felt his hard shaft press against your hot core through the layers 
You pulled away from the kiss slightly and dean moved his lips down your neck sucking and kissing his way down your chest "I love you too Dean, so fucking much" you said in between pleasured gasps dean moved back up to your lips immediately getting back into the heated kiss, you fumbled with the bottom of deans shirt and tugged slightly to let him know you wanted it off 
Dean pulled back from the kiss and sat back slightly before pulling his shirt off, he pulled your own shirt over your head to be met with your bare chest as you ditched your bra for bed, his smile replicated one of a child in a candy store and he was down kissing your breasts and sucking love marks all over them before taking your nipple in his mouth, his hand tweaking and playing with the other to stimulate you 
"Oh god Dean please don't stop" you begged and held his head right your chest, Dean took your words as encouragement as he continued his movements before kissing a trail down your stomach reaching your panties as you decided against wearing your jeans to bed
Dean hooked his fingers in the waistline and he pulled them down your legs slowly, once he discarded of your panties he was back between your legs, now face to face with your pussy, he smiled as kissed your mound, you moaned feeling you get wetter by the second, "pick a number sweetheart?" He asked "three why?" You replied confused he smirked "you'll see" he said before leaning in and licking a strip up your wet pussy making you throw your head back against the pillow 
Dean began by sucking your clit into his mouth before thrusting his finger inside you immediately finding your G- spot making you scream in pleasure "please dean feels so fucking good" you slurred out, Dean chuckled against you  and added another finger, he arched them to keep hitting your G-spot and sucking your clit making you arch your back in pleasure and your hand ran through his spiked hair as you pushed him closer to you 
It wasn't long before you were seeing stars as you orgasm washed through you "holy fuck dean I'm coming!" You squealed out, Dean sped up his movements as you panted, your legs shook as you came down from your high and taking deep breathes, your break didn't last long before Dean was back on you like a starving man, eating your pussy with such ferocity it had you weighing ok the bed moaning his name like it was the only hung you knew, once again you were coming hard and dean was liking it up as he didn't stop
You grinded your hips against his face feeling your third orgasm of the night already approaching, using his free hand, dean grasped your breast in his hand squeezing as he sped up his fingers as they hit your special place over and over again, you felt the familiar knot in your stomach however, this one felt different, stronger, your breathing became more ragged as you felt your orgasm take you down "Dean!" You screamed out as felt a wetness shoot out of you
Your whole body shaking as your chants of his name contined until Dean halted his movements "that was so fucking hot baby seeing you squirt" Dean said his face soaked in you juices you giggled moving on shaky legs towards him and pulled his boxers down his legs, he helped by kicking them off the rest of the way
You gently took his big hard member in your hand smearing his pre cum around his red tip before you started to jerk him off, Dean groaned before gently pushing you back against the bed, you looked up at him confused "tonight is all about you sweetheart" dean said leaning back in to capture your lips in a heavy kiss
Dean pulled away slightly in search of a condom he kept in his wallet which was nowhere in sight  "damn it has to be out in the living room, I'll be right back sweetheart" dean rushed out before moving away, you quickly trapped him with your legs and he turned to look at you "I'm on the pill and I'm clean..." you said suggestively
Dean smirked pouncing on you, both hands grasping your shaky thighs, you moved to wrap them tightly around his bare hips and pulled him closer as you felt his hard cock press against your core, you moaned against his lips as pleasure shot through your body 
Dean heaps his hard shaft and moved his tip to press against your entrance, "please dean" you whimpered out,  dean chuckled as he gently pushed inside your dripping hole stretching your walls, you let out a shaky breath as you adjusted to his size "you okay sweetheart" dean asked as pushed all the way inside you "yeah I'm good, you can move now" you said pulling him into another kiss
Dean complied as pulled his hips all the way back before slamming back inside of you, "oh my-" you  chocked out against his lips, Dean continued to slam his hips against yours at a hard slow pace making you want to scream "faster baby please" you begged fighting your legs around him
Dean complied as he began thrusting inside of you faster, the only sound left in the room were the moans and skin slapping skin
Deans cock was repeatedly hitting your G-spot, pushing you closer and closer to your fourth orgasm of the night "you're so fucking tight baby, I'm not gonna last much longer" dean said in between thrusts "me either" you moaned out and dean moved his hand down to rub your clit making your eyes roll to the back of your head "oh my fucking god dean please don't stop!" You squealed as your scratched your nails down his back leaving deep red lines in their wake 
"I'm gonna cum again" you moaned out breathless and dean sped his hips up even more "me too baby!" Dean said and it wasn't long until your felt the knot in your stomach snap and you came all over deans cock with a scream of his name, triggering his own orgasm as his white hot seed coated your walls.
Once both of you had calmed from your highs dean gently pulled out of you making you let out a small hiss at the empty feeling , he layback down beside you both you chests rising and falling with deep exhausted breaths “that was fucking awesome baby” dean said turning to you with a smile on his face sending you into giggles “yeah it was” you leaned into give him a small peck on his kiss swollen lips before pulling away to lay your head on his chest, 
Dean wrapped his arm around your back and pulling you to rest against him “get some sleep sweetheart hopefully Sam and Bobby take there time getting to us so we can have round two in the morning” dean said  sleepily and you smiled against his chest as you already felt the heaviness of sleep pull you away along with the comforting sound of deans heart beat reminding you that he was right there with you , safe and sound. 
————————————————————————
Hey! Long time no see, I did have a few Christmas/ new year imagines in mind when starting this account however I was just going through a really rough period of time, my dog of 14 years passed away at the beginning of January and was sick throughout Christmas so I just wanted to spend whatever time I had left with him and writing just had to be put on hold, I will be much more consistent throughout ❤️
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princessmisery666 · 2 months
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Just Don't Say You Love Me
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Summary: Dean believes you have a good thing going. When you tell him your moving on, he realizes he needs to reassess the relationship and his life before it’s too late.
Warnings/Genres/Troupes: angst, miscommunication, unrequited love, friends with benefits, implied smut, Dean doesn’t get a happy ending. 
W/C: 4,776.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Jody Mills, Sam Winchester. 
Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).
Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: Just Please Don’t Say You Love Me by Gabrielle Alpin.
A/N: I tried to fix the angst, but it’s not happening, so the unhappy ending will remain (for now). Special shoutout to @kazsrm67 and @pink-sparkly-witch for helping and offering words/comments of encouragement.
Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch // all mistakes remain my own. 
Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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You knock on Jody’s door, taking a deep breath to calm yourself, some residual adrenaline still playing havoc with your nerves. It’s been a long and insightful day. 
Dean opens the door with a smile, but it quickly morphs into an appreciative grin as his eyes travel the length of your body. “Wow,” he says, “who knew all that was hiding under that uniform.”
You laugh, stepping through the door, not in the least bit phased by his comment. It's not the first time you’ve been told that. “Yeah, that uniform is like an invisibility cloak. I put it on, and no man sees me. Guess you're no exception,” you explain, turning to look at him again. 
“Well, I see you now,” he says, quickly lifting his focus from your ass to your face. “Um, they’re through there,” he gestures for you to go ahead of him. 
“There she is,” Jody says, embracing you with one arm while she places the huge bowl of salad on the table. “How’re you doing?”
“Guess I’m still a little shell-shocked, but I’m okay.” 
“Well, we’re all here to help you…adjust,” Sam offers with a kind smile.
Discovering monsters are, in fact, very real and not just a Halloween marketing ploy is definitely going to be an adjustment. But what choice do you have? These people have given you an in. They’ve let you into their secret club, and honestly, you feel privileged that they trust you and think you are capable enough to help.
If you weren’t capable, neither Jody nor Dean would be here right now, a fact Sam keeps thanking you for over dinner.
“Thank you for being so cool about this,” he says again, lifting his beer bottle to clink it against yours. 
“I’ll freak out later,” you joke, though you probably will. 
“Seriously, you rushed in there, no hesitation, and you held your own,” Jody adds to Sam’s praise. “You certainly proved I picked the right woman for my team.”
“And I can’t thank you enough for that,” you say, genuinely grateful for the opportunity to work with her.
You’ve had some awful bosses and equally shitty jobs over the years, so it's nice to have found Sheriff Mills. Okay, so you’ll be fighting real-life monsters occasionally, but what’s a little compromise? 
They answer all your questions, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t a little overwhelming. Dean keeps flashing a tight smile in your direction, and you’re not sure if it's meant to be reassuring or if he’s biting his tongue and trying not to be rude. Regardless of his intention, Jody and the boys’ promises to help you come to grips with it all make it seem manageable.
“Am I going to get to hear the story of how you met those two?” you ask Jody in the kitchen later. 
“Definitely, but not tonight,” she explains, handing you a clean, soapy plate to rinse and dry.
Dean and Sam laugh in the other room, and Jody smiles wistfully. It’s so sweet and motherly it chokes you up a little.  
“The years have not been kind to those boys,” she says, focusing back on the dishes. “They keep their circle small, and I’m grateful that they let me be a part of it, and now you get to join it, too.”
“It’s a damn good-looking circle,” you confess.
Jody chuckles, “Ah, so you noticed Dean as much as he noticed you.” 
“Don’t go all matchmaker on me again,” you warn, “do I need to remind you of the disaster that was Paul?” 
“No, you do not. I’m just making an observation. The circle is indeed good-looking, and Dean has been doing a lot of observing of his own.” 
“Yeah, not sure that’s for the reasons you’re implying,” you say, “Dean doesn’t seem like he wants me to be helping out.”
Dean’s voice startles you, “You saved our asses.” You jump, twisting to look at him, “that’s enough.”
“But if I can do more…”
“The life of a hunter isn’t a life I'd recommend,” he explains, reaching for a beer from the fridge, “ it’s messy and painful and usually ends badly.”
“That’s life in general,” you counter, “and if something is happening and I don’t do anything to help, I’m part of the problem.”
“That’s fine,” he says, throwing his bottle top into the trash. “You’re a bigger part of the problem if you get into a situation you can’t get out of.”
“Dean,” Jody scolds, “take it easy. You said it yourself, she saved our asses today. She’s proven she’s capable.”
“All I’m saying is I’ll help where and if I can,” you explain. “I’m not going to go all Buffy the Vampire Slayer and start patrolling graveyards.”
It’s faint, but a slight quirk tugs his lips, breaking the building tension. 
“Besides, I’m sure our uniform makes us invisible to monsters as well as men.” 
He laughs properly at that, “Not invisible to me anymore,” his tongue sits behind his teeth, and you're suddenly jealous when he wraps his lips around the bottle.
“Good to know,” you say.
You hold each other’s gaze, perhaps a challenge to see who will shy away first. 
“Cool it, you two,” Jody warns, flicking water off the tips of her fingers at you both. 
“Sorry, boss,” you laugh. “And on that note, I’m gonna get going.”
“Need a ride?” Dean asks, a smug smirk in play. 
“I would love one,” you wink, but follow up with, “but it’s a nice night. Think I’m gonna walk, work off some of that wine.” 
“Why don’t you walk her home?” Jody suggests. 
Dean nods, “lead the way.”
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When you’d balked, telling Dean you didn’t need an escort, he’d countered, saying he needed the fresh air, but you think it’s more to check up on you and maybe flirt a little more without an audience if your instincts are correct. It’s been nothing but small talk since leaving Jody’s until you're standing on your porch facing one another.
“So how are you really taking all this?” he asks. 
“I had a little freak out before I got to Jody’s,” you answer honestly, “but truthfully, it makes me feel a little better about the world.” 
He huffs a laugh, and his confused frown is adorable. “Okay, that’s a first.” 
“There’s so much evil in the world. It’s scary enough without knowing what I know now,” you explain, adding, “Maybe some of the unexplainable evil that’s all over the news is explainable. Maybe it’s not humans being horrible. Maybe it’s actually something evil.”
“Huh, I never thought of it like that.”
“I’m not saying I’ll remember that the next time a vamp is kicking my ass,” you laugh. 
“Hey,” he scolds, “you agreed, no hunting.” 
You hold your hands up, surrendering. “I won’t go looking for it, but if it comes to Sioux Falls, I’m all over it,” you promise, but your body has other ideas as an overall ache spreads through you as the day's events catch up with you. “Well, maybe in a few days when I’ve recovered from the last one.” Subconsciously, your tongue rolls over the cut on your bottom lip.  
“That hurt?” he asks. 
“I’ve had worse.” You shrug. The way he’s looking at you dulls the sting of the cut, and the tired ache in your bones shifts and reshapes into a simmering itch that needs scratching.
“You gonna be okay?” he asks, pointing over your shoulder toward your door. The implication of you being alone goes unsaid.
“I’ll be fine,” you say, trying not to roll your eyes. “But maybe you want to come in? Have a coffee or something, distract me a little longer so I don’t freak out too much?”
He smiles, wetting his lips. He knows that’s not what you're asking, and you wonder how often the offer of ‘coffee or something’ has been used successfully on him. He looks down at his shuffling feet, heaving a sigh. “I should get back.” 
The hesitation is clear, yet he doesn’t move. A surge of adrenaline spreads through you, and your heart rate increases. When he looks up, catching your eyes, the intensity of the long, loaded pause is enough to make you wonder, if monsters exist, then maybe that electricity everyone talks about is real, too, because it feels like if you touch your hand to Dean’s face, sparks will fly.
“Thanks again for the save today,” he whispers.
“Anytime,” you smile. 
You don’t know who moves first, but suddenly you're as one, mouths connected, exploring the other’s, hands groping and gripping, and your lip stings for a split second, but then Dean has you pinned against your door, and you forget about it.
He pulls away and kisses your neck, “Maybe,” he says, scraping his teeth against your jaw, “we should take this inside.”
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Your arrangement with Dean works. No pressure, no expectations. Summer comes, and winter fades, but your relationship remains mutually beneficial. 
He rolls through Sioux Falls, that charming smile - that you’re not sure he knows quite how charming it is - “passing through,” but he stays a few days. He always claims it’s to catch up with Jody and the girls, but he spends most of his time at your place, and it’s too coincidental that you’re never on shift or scheduled for a few days when Baby pulls up outside.
Jody insists she has nothing to do with it. Yes, she's the sheriff, yes, she’s your boss, and makes the rotas, but “The only thing I swing is that I get to work with you,” she’d promised, winking. And you love her for that. Some of the men are still stuck in the past, and though they don’t say it, you can tell they don’t think women can do the job.
If only they knew. You’ve helped on a few hunts now. There’s no doubt in your mind that your relationship with Dean wouldn’t be what it is if you didn’t know about the real evils of the world. But each hunt ended the same: a dead monster and your body beneath Dean’s. 
You're in your room lacing up your little white summer pumps when the Impala’s engine announces his arrival.
You jump to your feet, quickly check yourself in your mirror, smoothing down the already smooth summer dress, and call out, “It’s open,” when his knock echoes around the house.
“Wow, look at you,” he says, freezing partway over the threshold to admire you as you bounce down the stairs.
You deliver your usual greeting, a swift kiss to his lips, and the unmistakable aroma of leather and cheap motel soap assaults your senses - damn, you’ve missed him - but you won’t say it. Instead, you show it, making the kiss deeper.
He shuffles inside, uses your hips to steady himself as he kicks the door closed, and then wraps his arms around your waist to hold you tightly against him. 
Your phone rings, and you fumble to find it on the table by the door, but as soon as you do, Dean releases you, kissing your neck and collarbone. 
“Hey, hi,” you answer. 
“Hey babe,” your best friend sings, and you know it's because she needs something. “Can you grab some ice on your way over?” 
“Yeah, sure, okay.” 
“You okay?” 
No. Yes.
Dean is kneading your breasts, nibbling on the skin that spills out the top of your sundress. “Yeah, just rushing, I’m running late.” 
“So late,” he mumbles into your skin.
“Well, hurry more,” she says before hanging up.
“Oh fuck, Dean, you gotta stop,” you whine. 
He groans, dulling the sting of his bite with a sweet kiss, and pulls back to look at you. “This a bad time, isn’t it?”
You nod, feeling as disappointed as he looks. “It’s my friend's birthday. She’s having a barbeque.” 
He sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder and mumbling into your neck. “Damn it.” 
“I have to at least show my face,” you say, using your hands on his cheeks to pull his head up to look into his eyes. “But you can stay here, take a shower, watch a movie or something, and maybe in a couple of hours, I get a headache and need to come home.” 
Wetting his lips, he smirks before delivering a brief kiss. “Or,” he draws out the syllable, mild hesitation clear in his eyes, “Maybe I can come with you?”
Since Chuck is no longer an issue, Dean has been making an effort to live in the moment, opening himself up, if only a little. So you try to quell the shock of his suggestion. It quickly evolves to a pleased grin when your mind flashes to your friends' faces when you walk in with the infamous Dean. They will lose their shit. You like spending time with Dean but don’t want to cross any lines or make assumptions. “I’d like that,” you smile, “but you really don’t have to.”
“I’m sure I can survive a couple hours with your friends, and you know I can always eat.”
“Okay,” you nod, smile widening. “If you’re sure.” 
He kisses you again, a simple but effective peck on your lips. “But maybe we both get a headache in a couple of hours.” 
“Deal,” you agree, sealing it with another casual kiss. “Maybe lose a few layers. It’s summer.”
He laughs, shrugging off his jacket. “I’m sure I have a clean Fed shirt in the trunk.”
“Perfect,” you say, grabbing your bag and keys. “Want me to drive?” 
He rolls his eyes, jesting, “Did that kiss fry your brain?” as he follows you out the front door.
He opens the passenger door for you, and before you slip inside, you tell him, “Oh, and whatever my friends say I’ve said about you, it’s all lies.”
He grins smugly, “Oh, this is going to be fun.”
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The shower has done wonders for your developing hangover. Your friend's barbecue lasted longer than you had anticipated, but the day couldn’t have gone better. 
Dean fit in well with everyone and crushed it at beer pong. It was a success all around, and when you’d quietly asked if he wanted to leave, he’d said no, that he was having too much fun.
The fun continued when you got home, and Dean is undoubtedly still feeling the effects as well. It’s almost midday, and he’s still sound asleep in your bed when you enter your bedroom in clean sweats and your bra while you towel dry your hair. 
Dean is lying on his stomach, with his face smushed adorably against the pillow he’s hugging, taking advantage of all the space now that you’ve vacated.
You crawl across the bed, leaning over him, and he still doesn’t stir. You put your lips close to his ear and half whisper, “Morning.”
His brow instantly creases, and he squeezes his eyes tighter, groaning, “No, no, you have to go away.” 
“You gotta get up. It’s almost midday.”
“Nuh-uh,” he grumbles, eyes still squeezed shut. “You have to take your horrible talking, talky mouth away from me.” 
“Okay, you asked for it.” You laugh, sitting back and wringing your hair out so the excess water drips on his naked back.
“Ah,” he groans, arching up off the mattress.
You jump off the bed, laughing as you walk to the mirror to start doing your hair. Turning over, he rubs a hand over his face and then both through his hair, causing it to stick up adorably. He catches you staring in the mirror, and you quickly avert your eyes. 
“Damn, your friends can drink,” he says, sitting up against the headboard. 
You laugh, that’s an understatement. “They definitely know how to have fun.” 
“They seem like a good bunch.” 
“They liked you too,” you smile at his reflection, and he grins back. “Laura told me to invite you to her and Chris’ wedding.”
His expression shifts, staring off into the distance for a singular moment as if he’s imagining how that would play out. But as quickly as it appears, it drops when he scrubs a hand down his face to put the mask back on. “That’s cool, but I can’t make that kind of commitment.” He swings his legs off the bed, putting his back to you. “I don’t know where I’ll be.”
You hadn’t expected a solid answer, but the double meaning behind his words settles thick disappointment in your stomach. You’ve never asked for any commitment nor discussed the arrangement between you, but hearing him say it aloud singes the hope you always try to contain.
Dean quickly gets to his feet, swaying at the abruptness. “I’m gonna grab a shower.” He mumbles, avoiding eye contact as he heads to the bathroom.
It’s been less than ten minutes, and you’re sitting at the kitchen table, scrolling through your phone, when he finds the courage to face you again. He’s talking to Sam on his phone, obnoxiously loud, as he descends the stairs, trying to make a point of his hasty need to depart.
He appears in the kitchen doorway, jacket in hand, hair dripping onto the shoulders of his henley. You guess you should be grateful he wasn’t cowardly enough to have just shouted goodbye from the door. 
“Listen, I’m sorry about before.” He moves closer to the table, eyeing you as he raps his knuckles on the polished wood. “It’s just that, even with Chuck out of the picture, I’m not sure how things are going to play out. I can’t make any, uh, long-term commitments. Sam and-“
“I get it, Dean.” The last thing you want is any tension between you, so you nip the growing uncomfortableness. “We don’t need to have any awkward conversations.”
He bobs his head, hope swimming in his eyes. “So, we’re good?”
You take your mug to the sink, and once your back is to him, you say, “Yeah, we’re good.”
“You sure?” You didn’t hear him move, but the air shifts behind you, bringing his warmth along with it.
Plastering on a smile, you turn to face him and nod. “Take care of yourself.”
The corner of his mouth curls upward, and he kisses your forehead before heading to the door, “Talk to you soon,” he calls before the door clicks shut.
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Fools rush in. Dean is no fool. That doesn’t mean he doesn’t feel like being one sometimes. Usually, it’s when he’s on the road, heading home from a hunt or supply run, he daydreams about how things could be with you. 
The daydream isn’t much different from how things already are. The sex would just be coupled with more official dates – dinner, movies, watching him, which for some reason turns you on, ‘do his thing’ as you call it when he’s hustling suckers at pool. Hell, even grocery shopping. He’d sneak unhealthy snacks into the cart because you promised Sam you’d take care of him, and you would. Dean knows you’d be good to him, that you are good for him. But he’s lived that life. He doesn’t need a wake-up call to know how it ends.
It’s a nice daydream. It gives him a much-needed boost of serotonin when he’s in short supply. But like the gas that fuels Baby, the thought has vaporized by the time he shuts off the engine.
Chuck isn’t calling the shots anymore, but that doesn’t mean the big bads aren’t still gunning for the Winchester's demise. Sam has it all figured out with Eileen, and Dean wishes he could be as sure about what he wants life to look like now. But he can’t be sure of anything, at least not yet. He’s still working on adjusting to a life not consumed by hunting. Trying to come to terms with the fact that there isn’t something lurking around every corner, that the choices he makes – good and bad – are truly his and not fueled by some life-ending curveball Chuck tosses at them. 
The doubts bore deeper, and as always, when he’s drowning in his own head, he thinks of you.
He remembers how you busted down the door with borrowed equipment from Sioux Falls. You’d looked frantic but still in control. Your mere presence had calmed him, and not because you were there to rescue him. You didn’t waste a breath with a witty comment like he would have. You let off two shots, dropped the ghoul about to take a chunk out of him, and then untied him.
You’d been cool and calm, checked him for injuries, but didn’t believe he was truly okay till he kissed you breathless. That adrenaline-filled, kiss-swollen lips, slightly frantic edge to your eyes, is the picture he conjures whenever he thinks of you. 
It’s been a while since he’s seen you. You’ve exchanged a few calls, but now that his mind is stuck on that picture of you, he has to see you.
He shoots Sam a text, telling him he’ll be in Sioux Falls if Sam needs anything, and then pulls an illegal u-turn to put himself in your direction. 
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Dean’s not phased that you aren’t home when he shows up. It’s not like he called ahead. He never does. But now that he’s here, he doesn’t want to waste time tracking you down, so he calls. 
“Hey,” you greet brightly.
The smile in your voice brings out his. “Hey, yourself. I’m at your door.” 
“Shit, sorry, I’m not there.”
He chuckles, “Are you around, or does my timing suck again?” 
“No, no, it’s kinda perfect, actually,” you say. “I was gonna call you later anyway. But I need a half hour or so.”
“I can wait.” 
“Greasy Sal’s?” you offer. 
He smiles, already salivating at the thought of a Greasy Sal’s cheeseburger. “Throw in some curly fries,” he requests.  
“Okay, got it,” You laugh.
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Dean sits on the Impala’s hood while he waits, head tilted toward the sun, eyes closed while he catches the day’s last rays. The sound of your car’s engine isn’t as distinct as Baby’s, but he knows it well enough that as soon as he hears it, he opens his eyes and watches you turn onto the street. It’s not until that moment that he realizes how eager he is to see you. Maybe Greasy Sal’s can wait; he has another hunger he needs to sate.
He waits till you shut off the engine to open your door, “such a gentleman,” you quip, taking his offered hand to step onto the sidewalk. “Or are you clambering for food?” 
“Not what I’m hungry for,” he says, guiding you against your car. He presses himself against you, feeling the coolness of the air conditioning on your clothes. He circles the tip of your nose with his own, whispering, “Hey,” against your lips before claiming them as his own. 
Frustratingly, you push a hand into his chest after the first brush of his tongue, and he pulls back to look at you. You're looking up at him from under hooded eyes, and he feels like his heart skips a beat, or maybe he’s just a little out of breath. But he knows that with you gazing up at him like he’s a beautiful sunset, he really has missed you. 
“Maybe we should take this inside.”
“Absolutely,” he says, slightly impatient that he can’t get you naked then and there.
He walks to the trunk to get your shopping bags and follows you up the path. He has a bag packed with his essentials but never brings it inside until the next morning. Something about bringing it in before you’ve had sex seems presumptuous, which is crazy because, as per the arrangement, that’s exactly what he’s here for.
“It’s good to see you,” you say, entering your kitchen with him close on your tail.
“Yeah, you too.” He genuinely means it. It’s like things fall into place when he’s around you. 
“How’s Sam?”
“He’s good,” Dean explains, placing the grocery bags on the countertop. “He’s taken Eileen away for a couple days.” 
“Good for them.” 
You unpack the groceries and take a beer from the fridge; as always, it's his favorite brand. Though he never warns you of his pending arrival there is always a supply cooling in the refrigerator and his favorite snacks in the cupboards. 
He takes the open bottle from you, leaning in to deliver another kiss, but you turn to grab more groceries, and he realizes it's a not-so-stealthy way to give him your cheek.
It seems to be the day of revelations because he’s super aware of how easily you flow around each other in the small kitchen. Dean plates up the burgers, grabbing another beer for you from the fridge, and he’s surprised to see that it’s the only one left. That, coupled with the kiss avoidance, gives him pause. Something’s wrong. 
You sit at the table and take a large gulp of the beer. “You okay?” he asks once you’ve swallowed the beer and the nervousness you're exuding. “You seem a little…off.” 
“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, then inhale deeply before adding, “Actually, no, I’m not. We need to talk. And I hate how cliche that sounds, but I don’t know how else to bring it up, and I don’t want to get all emotional on you, but I need to tell you something.”
He feels the panic fizz in his gut. You can’t be pregnant. He's seen you take birth control, and he uses protection every time. So it can only be one thing …you're about to ruin everything.
You're going to utter those three words, and it's going to be the death blow to all the good stuff between you. 
He takes a swig of his beer, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Please don’t,” he begs, looking you dead square in the eyes. “What we’ve got going on is good, we’re good…” 
“Dean, I …” you try, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.
“Don’t say it.” he pushes his chair back and rubs his hands on his thighs, palms suddenly sweaty. “I like what we have. It works, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t look forward to it or that I don’t miss you. But I just got back a little peace of mind and…” he pauses, clearly searching for the right word, “caring about someone…” he shakes his head, reaching to wrap his hand around his beer bottle. “...Loving me, even with Chuck gone, it doesn’t make it any less of a death sentence. So please don’t say it.”
You reach across the table for his hand, clenched around his beer, but he’s quick to pull back. “Dean,” you choke out, the remorse you feel slipping from your eyes in a single tear. “I’ve met someone.” 
He stares at you, mouth agape, not sure that he heard you correctly. 
“It’s still new,” you continue, rushing to explain as your tears spill. “But it’s going somewhere. Somewhere great, and I don’t want to mess it up.”
Of course, you haven’t been sitting at home waiting for his sporadic visits. You’ve been out living your life as you should be. The possibility of meeting someone else, someone you could say those three words to, and it be a life sentence and not a death sentence, had occurred to him more than once. It poked at him like a swarming gnat, knowing you deserved to find someone better than him, but selfishly, he swatted at it until it went away. 
He’s holding his breath and will get light-headed soon if he doesn’t find the ability to breathe again. 
“Dean,” you coax, “say something.”
He feels as if you’d blindsided him, come out of the left field, and taken his legs out from under him. Now he’s on his back, the wind knocked out of him, and waiting for the feeling in his limbs to return. 
Abruptly he stands. He sees the panic in your eyes and knows what’s coming. As you plead, “Don’t leave,” he says, “I gotta go.”
He strides quickly toward the door. You call his name as he goes, but he doesn’t stop. 
He rushes out your front door, leaves it open, and as he reaches Baby, he has a singular moment of wondering what will hurt the least - holding on or letting go.
“Dean, please,” you call from the door. 
He slides behind the wheel, deciding to let go.
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Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.
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Tags info
/ @alexxavicry / @b3autyfuldisast3r / @deandreamernp / @deanwinchesterswitch / @fandom-princess-forevermore / @foxyjwls007 / @jc-winchester / @justagirlinafandomworld / @katbratsupernaturalwhore / @leigh70 / @letsbys-library / @lyarr24 / @mrswhozeewhatsis / @nancymcl / @shanimallina87 / @stoneyggirl2 / @waywardbaby / @wildbornsiren / @writercole / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @pank0w / @kmc1989/ @deans-spinster-witch / @spnbaby-67 / @roseblue373
Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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apocalypseornaw · 4 months
Text
What If
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Dean Winchester x Reader
You make assumptions after a night in Dean's bed that prove to be false
Warnings: Mention of steamy times, cursing, hurt feelings
Heat was the first sensation that hit you. The heat of a warm body curled up to your back. A strong arm laid across your stomach and warm breath hitting the back of your neck as he slept. How the hell had you ended up in this position when the two of you had simply set out to watch a movie last night after Sam had gone to bed?
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You'd been in your room, laid across the bed reading a book Alex had sent you for your birthday. It was pretty good so far but you knew you wouldn't get far in it when you heard Dean singing lightly as his footsteps got closer to your open door.
You slid a bookmark in place and laid the book on your nightstand before your green eyed best friend ever Madeira to your door. You glanced up about the time he knocked “What's up Dean?” He smiled slightly “Well Sammy's gone to bed but Claire sent me a list of the top five rated horror movies. The top two we have on streaming”
A grin split your face “Go get them up, I'll grab drinks and meet you in the TV room” he winked at you “that's my girl” then turned to walk off down the hall.
You let out a sigh if only he knew what it did to you when he did shit like that. That wink, calling you his girl. The way he always invited you to watch movies, go for late night drives or how gentle he was patching you up after hunts. You shook your head to clear those thoughts out, he was your best friend. Yeah he was drop dead gorgeous but you couldn't help that you had eyes. You wouldn't ever cross a line he'd never acted as if he wanted to cross and risk that relationship.
____________________________
You were sitting next to Dean on the couch, your feet were curled up under you and Dean's favorite blanket was draped across you both. About halfway through the second movie a jumpscare actually got to you and without thinking you curled into his side, hiding your face in his chest.
He chuckled lightly as he tucked his arm around your body “Oh come on sweetheart. I've seen you take on shit a lot scarier than that and not blink!” You looked up at him and stuck your tongue out, trying to ignore just how close your faces were “Bite me Winchester. Real life doesn't bother me because if it can touch me and hurt me I can touch it and hurt it”
He shook his head “You're something else” you raised an eyebrow “What you mean by that” he raised his hand that wasn't curled around you to push your hair back that had fallen into your face “Beautiful, smart, badass. Pretty damn close to perfect” you could feel your cheeks warm slightly. It wasn't unusual for Dean to compliment you but it always made your stomach flip. “Oh shut up” you pushed against his chest hoping to turn this semi flirtatious moment into a teasing one but damn him if he didn't cup your chin gently and lift your head to meet his eyes before a smirk slipped onto his face “Make me”
You don't know what came over you at that moment. Maybe temporary insanity? Regardless you found yourself moving forward until your lips met his. It was just a simple kiss but something you'd dreamt of for far too long. It didn't take him even half a second to react. His hands went down to your hips, pulling you over into his lap and when the action caused a light gasp to leave your lips he slipped his tongue into your mouth rolling it against yours in a way that had you melting into him.
When you ground your hips down against his and a deep groan left him that was when reality set in. You were currently straddling your best friend, making out with him and damn near dry humping on the couch. You broke the kiss and damn near jumped off his lap. “I am so sorry Dean. I don't…I don't know what was going through my head”
He stood up, adjusting his jeans as he did so and your eyes flicked down to see a bulge that made your legs weak. The look in his eyes, damn how many waitresses and barmaids had you cussed over the years for having that look focused on them and now you couldn't think straight. “I wasn't exactly shoving you off” he replied taking a step closer and when you didn't back up he quickly covered the space between you pulling you into his arms “You're my best friend Y/N. Besides Sam no one on earth means as much to me as you do but that kiss was….fuck…if you want then this never happened. We'll turn on a different movie and nothing more”
“Or?” You asked, feeling your heart leap into your throat. A smirk slipped back onto his lips “Or we could go to my room and talk” “talk?” You repeated and he nodded “nothing has to happen”
________________________
A moan of Dean's name left your lips as he kissed a trail down your neck, his fingers slipping inside of you easily. “Fuck I love hear you say my name like that” he teased. It didn't take him long to find that one spot inside of you that had you clenching around his fingers and your legs shaking around his wrist.
He continued to pump his fingers lazily in and out of you as he worked you through the orgasm. When you weakly pushed at his wrist he caught your eyes before licking his fingers into his mouth, those sinful lips working as he sucked your juices off his fingers. “Taste as good as you look” you shook your head with a laugh “Take your pants off and get up here Dean” he grinned “Yes ma'am”
He stood long enough to slip his pants off then crawled up the bed, kissing his way up your body until he got to your lips. He caught them in a searing kiss that let you taste yourself on him. He pulled back enough to meet your eyes “Are you sure about this?” You nodded and felt his hardness pressed against your inner thigh “I want this”
He pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up with your entrance. When he slipped inside of you a moan left both of you at the feeling. He dropped his head down against your chest once he was fully inside of you to give you time to adjust. His lips left a trail across your collarbone “you feel so damn amazing sweetheart” After a moment the discomfort of the fullness of his gave way to pleasure so you turned his face to kiss him “Move Dean”
He began to roll his hips tentatively against yours and when your reaction was your eyes rolling back slightly at the feeling that was all the clearance he needed. “Eyes on me, beautiful. I want to see you come undone” it took you a minute to focus your eyes back on him and when you did he smiled almost shyly “look at you Y/N. Damn you're perfect” he pulled almost completely out of you then slammed back in. Your hands went to his shoulders, fingernails cutting into the skin as he sat a grueling pace that filled the room with the sound of skin hitting skin and both of you moaning the other's name.
When you felt yourself reaching that peak he bit down gently on your neck “Let yourself go baby. I'm not far behind. I want to feel you come around my cock, please” Dean Winchester of all men begging you to come? Christ, that pushed you over the edge with a scream of pleasure ripping from your lips.
His thrusts faltered slightly and through gritted teeth he asked “Don't you have an iud?” You nodded and he buried himself inside of you with one final thrust. The feeling of him coming worked another small orgasm out of you that had your legs shaking around him.
When he pulled out you whimpered slightly and he apologized with a light kiss “Just gonna grab my shirt to clean you up some baby ok?” You nodded weakly and felt the bed dip before Dean was knelt between your knees “Open up for me beautiful” you slowly spread your legs and he smiled “you look so fucking gorgeous like this. All fucked out” he used his shirt to clean you up as best as he could before tossing it back to the floor.
When he laid back down next to you he ran a finger down your side which caused you to squirm. “I'll go to my room once my legs work” He slipped his arm around you to pull you back against him “Take your time. No rush”
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Every insecurity and what if started to flip through your head. Dean wasn't a settling down type. He didn't like attachments because he knew that put a target on them. He cared about you enough as a friend to put himself in danger. This wouldn't work. Either he'd not want this and feel some sort of obligation from your years of friendship or worse he would feel for you what you truly felt for him and it would end with him getting himself killed to keep you safe.
______________
It took some work to slip out the bed without waking him but you managed it and slipped your clothes on quickly. You needed a shower and to get the hell out of the bunker for a few minutes. You just needed to clear your head. It was supply run day. Groceries were needed and mail needed to be checked. You'd tell Sam to let you handle it. That would give you breathing room.
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When you parked your car back at the bunker Sam came out to meet you and help with bags. When you glanced behind him he shrugged one shoulder “Can I ask something that may not only be none of my business but may be uncomfortable too?”
You nodded “We've known each other for a good chunk of our lives so I'd say yeah” he grimaced as he ran a hand across the back of his neck “I heard you and Dean last night so I thought…I don't know what I thought but did something happen? Because he seemed upset that you left while he was asleep”
“Sam, I didn't want to make things weird for Dean. You know my feelings” he nodded “but did you ask him his or just assume?” You didn't have to say anything Sam saw the look in your eyes. “He's in the library cleaning guns. I've got the bags”
________________
You could hear the clinking of metal when you got closer to the library. You stopped right inside the doorway and watched Dean for a moment. The way he handled the guns was a thing of beauty. He could probably break them down, clean them and put them back together in his sleep at this point.
He didn't look up from the colt before saying “You made it back in one piece” you nodded lamely “Dean can we talk?” He laid the colt down and raised his eyes to meet yours “Let me guess where this is going. You had a good night but don't want nothing to change”
You swallowed hard under the intensity of his stare “Can I talk without you putting words in my mouth?” He waved a hand to say go ahead “Dean you're my best friend and I love you, I fell in love with you. Last night was fucking amazing but I don't want to make you regrets things, you don't do love, you don't do relationships”
“because why? Dean's a man whore that just bed hops? Because Dean is incapable of love? Because despite us being best friends for over a decade there's no possibility that I fell in love with you too? There's no possibility i fucking wanted to wake up with the woman I love in my arms?” You flinched at his tone despite your heart flipping at his words “You love me?” He stood up and walked around the table “How could I not?”
You took a step back putting your back to the wall. He stood right in front of you, leaning a hand on the wall just over your head but giving you room to move “I love you Y/N. I'm in love with you. Last night was everything. Now what other demons are lurking in your head cause you know I don't mind taking on each and every one of those sons of bitches”
“What if you get hurt protecting me?” You asked and he smiled “baby I'd do that now but I know for the most part you can handle yourself and don't act like you're not self sacrificing either” you laughed despite yourself “What if you get bored of one woman?” He grinned “unlikely but we can always role play sweetheart. Believe me I mean it when I say you're fucking perfect for me”
“What if…” he cut you off by saying “What if you stop giving me excuses and let me kiss you? We could both die tomorrow and if that happens it happens but I'd rather have a day knowing you were completely my girl then live the rest of our lives just having part of you. I'm yours, you mine?” You nodded “Always. Now kiss me” He grinned “Yes ma'am”
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octoberclidan · 2 months
Text
Needing You
Request: With absolutely no pressure, could I request some comfort for our sweet (and vulnerable) Dean? Something very soft and gentle? 💚
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Masterlist
Story:
Dean didn't wait for either Sam or [Y/N]. As soon as he'd turned off the engine, he was out of the car and marching towards their motel room. He didn't take his bag, he didn't look at either of them, he didn't say anything, he just left. Everything that could've gone wrong on the hunt, had gone wrong. Nothing about their day had gone well. It had been a cold, dark, rainy day since the moment they'd woken up. Dean had been captured by a witch, his absolute least favourite thing to hunt, and it had taken Sam and [Y/N] all day to find him. While he'd been magically held against a wall in the witch's home, he watched two of her victims die. He couldn't physically do anything, and there was nothing he could say to stop her. He was to be her third victim, but right before she cut his neck, Sam had burst into the room and the witch disappeared. Dean had fallen to the ground, and had pushed both Sam and [Y/N] away when they tried to help him up.
[Y/N]'s view of Dean marching to their motel room was obscured by the raindrops rolling down the car's window. She hadn't tried to talk to him the entire ride back; she knew better after Dean had snapped at Sam just for clearing his throat. She sighed, and was about to open her door when Sam turned around in his seat to look at her. "He'll be okay. He'll punch something, get drunk, and sleep it off. We'll be back on the hunt in the morning". He cringed slightly when he heard the door to their room slam. "I think we should probably see about getting a second room and giving him some space tonight".
"Do you think he'll be okay on his own? I've seen him beating himself up after hunts before, but I've never seen him like this", she said. [Y/N] had a deep level of concern and care for Dean. She loved both Winchesters, she'd do anything for either of them, and she hated seeing them upset. Sam sighed and shrugged his shoulders.
"He won't let himself lose control, we still have to find the witch. He'll be good by the morning". He finally opened his door, the wind blowing some rain into the car. "Wait here until I get us a room, I'll be back in a few minutes". [Y/N] watched as he pulled his jacket up over his head and quickly got out of the car, closing his door behind him and jogging over to the motel's reception. She felt a bit uneasy leaving Dean alone when he was probably in there breaking something and hating himself, but she knew that no one knew him and what he needed better than Sam.
The door to the reception opened and it caught her eyes, she saw Sam jogging back to the car. She grabbed her bag from beside her as Sam opened up the trunk to grab his own, and they quickly ran through the parking lot to get to their new room, which happened to be the one right next to Dean's. Sam opened the door and ushered [Y/N] inside, and she shivered as droplets of rain water fell from her hair. "You wanna take the first shower?" Sam asked as he put his bag down on the desk beside the window, and [Y/N] nodded.
"Yeah, I'll make it quick", she said and made her way into the bathroom, taking her bag with her. The water wasn't exactly hot, but it did warm her up a little bit. She couldn't keep her thoughts from wondering to Dean, thinking about what must be going through his head and what he was up to in the other room. She began to grow even more worried as she turned off the shower and started to pull on the old comfortable clothes she kept for sleeping in; one of Dean's old band t-shirts, and some very well worn sweatpants. What if he decided to go to a bar? Dean had no issues with driving after drinking on an ordinary day, but what if he tried to drive home after drinking too much in the dark and rain?
Once she was dressed, she opened the bathroom door. Sam was sitting on one of the beds and looked up at her as she walked out. "Shower's all yours, just a warning though, the water's not hot", she said as she made her way over to the other bed.
"Noted", Sam sighed as he pushed himself off the bed to go get his clothes and toiletries. "Are you okay?" He asked before he went in.
"Yeah, just worried I guess", she shrugged. He nodded in understanding as he closed the bathroom door behind him. She heard the shower turn on, and she decided to pull out her journal to make notes on the hunt. She'd only just sat down on a bed and opened her journal when she heard a crash behind her head, and she spun around on the bed to look at the wall behind her. A few seconds later, and there was a bang on the wall, shaking it along with her bed frame. Dean. Without stopping to think, she tossed her journal down beside her and shot out of bed. She scribbled down a quick note for Sam on a little post-it that was on the desk, and headed straight out of the room.
Although the corridor outside the room had a cover over it, the floor was still wet from the rain being blown onto it from the wind. The wind and rain hit her immediately and she ran to the next door, banging on it and hoping Dean wouldn't take too long to let her in, hoping he hadn't injured himself, hoping he could let her in. When ten seconds went by without any answer, she banged on the door again. "Damnit Dean, let me in! I'm getting soaked out here!" She wrapped her arms around herself and rubbed her bare arms as she stood there being attacked by the weather, her clothes having no waterproof capabilities.
The door opened slightly and she looked up to find a red-eyed Dean. He looked her up and down before sighing and opening the door wide enough to let her in. She slipped inside and kept her arms around herself as she waited for him to close the door and turn to face her. "What are you doing in here?" He mumbled as he kept his head down and walked past her to his bed. He sat down on the edge of it, and she noticed that his knuckles were bloody as he held his hands on his lap.
"Will you let me look at those?" She asked, walking over to him. He pulled his hands back as she reached down for them, but she insisted. He didn't put up a fight as she held his hands in hers and lifted them up to look at them. "I'm going to clean them and wrap them".
"They're fine".
"Dean", she sighed. "They're not fine, and you're not fine either. You can talk about it with me if you want to, or you can sit there in silence, but either way, I'm taking care of these hands". She gently squeezed them before placing them back in his lap. She looked around the room before remembering that Dean hadn't taken his bag in from the car. "Just... wait here, don't move, I'll be back in less than a minute". He didn't say anything and he didn't look up at her as she quickly left the room.
She ran through the rain back to the other room and let herself in to find Sam sitting on his bed reading through a book. "How is he?" He asked, leaning forward with his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
"He's Dean", she sighed, looking through her bag for her first aid kit.
"You gonna bring a coat this time?" He asked as she went to open the door again. She paused and nodded.
"Good idea", she chuckled as she grabbed her jacket, holding it over her head. "I'm not sure when I'll be back... if I can get him to open up maybe I'll just stay with him, are you good here?"
"Good luck, yeah I'm fine, just let me know if you need anything", he smiled at her. He knew Dean was in safe hands with [Y/N]. Although he knew Dean better than anyone, he also knew that if anyone could get him to open up and hate himself a little less, it would be her.
Dean was waiting for [Y/N] this time with the door open, not wanting her to stand out in the rain any longer than needed. She smiled at him in thanks as he held the door open for her, and he caught himself smiling back. He could feel his anger start to dissipate, and he cursed her in his mind for having that effect on him. He felt like he deserved to feel bad, he felt like he didn't deserve to be smiling. "Okay, sit on the bed so I can clean those hands up", she said as she grabbed a chair.
"I can do it myself".
"No you can't, I've seen you doing it yourself and you're shit at it, now sit", she placed the first aid kit down on the bed and put her hands on her hips, waiting for him to shake his head and follow her instructions like he always ended up doing. He sat down and she pulled the chair closer so she could sit opposite him, their knees touching. She grabbed one of his hands and pulled out an antiseptic wipe to start to clean it. He hissed at the initial sting, but it soon went away. She held his hand in one hand, stroking her thumb up and down soothingly, while she wiped his knuckles with her other. She lifted his hand closer to her face to inspect it, and then threw the wipe away and took out some gauze.
"It's not bad enough to need that stuff", Dean protested, but one glare from her and he stopped, letting her gently wrap his hand. She placed it on his lap as he took his other hand, which wasn't as bad, but he knew she'd insist on wrapping it too anyway. He looked into her face as she worked on his second hand, noticing how she stuck her tongue out slightly between her teeth in concentration. He'd never known anyone so beautiful, inside and out, and he didn't know how he was lucky enough to have her as a constant in his life.
"There, all done", she smiled as she let go of his hand and packed away her supplies. When she looked back at Dean, he was looking down at his hands, and a tear fell from his eye to darken a little spot on his bandage. "Hey, what's going on inside that head of yours?" She asked, gently covering his hand with hers. He shook his head and sniffed, looking away from her. "Come on, talk to me, I'm right here", she lifted her hand to touch his cheek, slowly turning his face back to her.
"I was useless today", he said.
"Dean-", she sighed but he cut her off and took his hand back from her, standing up abruptly and forcing her back a little so he could walk away. She stared at him as he started to pace up and down the room. "Dean-", she tried again, but he stopped and glared at her through teary eyes.
"Don't 'Dean' me, okay? I fucked up. I let my guard down, got caught by a fucking witch and watched two people die, knowing I couldn't do shit but wait to be rescued. I'm supposed to save people, I'm not supposed to need saving".
"Dean, how many times have you saved me? Or Sam? Does that make either of us less of a hunter? Does that make either of useless?"
"No, but it's different".
"How exactly is it different? Why can't Dean Winchester need saving sometimes? You're not invincible Dean, you're human. Shit happens. Sometimes everyone needs a little saving. Sometimes you can't save everyone, no matter how good you are". She stood up and walked over to him, looking up at him. He turned his face away from her, but she reached up tentatively to put her hand on his cheek. He didn't resist when she turned his face to look down at her, and once he looked into her eyes, he broke. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his chest, burying his face in her neck as he started to cry quietly. She wrapped her arms around his waist and stood there in his embrace, letting him get his emotions out. She was almost afraid to make any movement or say anything, in case it pulled him out of his vulnerability, but after a few minutes she leaned back slightly and looked up at him.
He blinked through his tears and sniffed, then frowned at her. "You're damp", he mumbled, and she couldn't help but laugh quietly.
"Yeah, it's raining".
"I'm sorry".
"For what?" She asked, rubbing his back gently.
"Being like this", he shrugged, "crying and punching things and..." He shook his head as if trying to get rid of his train of thought.
"And what?" She prompted him, tilting her head in curiosity. He paused in contemplation for a moment, glancing between her eyes, feeling comfort when all he saw was sincerity looking back at him. His hands fell to her waist and he held her firmly, pulling her back in closer to his chest.
"And needing you".
He was finally opening up to her, and she sighed in relief, knowing this meant he'd be okay. "I will always be here for you, Dean", she said.
"Is it okay?" He asked, looking down at her, his face suddenly full of worry. "Is it okay that I need you?"
"Dean", she said, moving her hands up to cup his cheeks, her thumbs wiping his tears away. "We all need each other. Sam and I need you, just like you and I need Sam".
"Like Sam and I need you", he nodded, and his hands left her waist to hold her arms, gently squeezing them as if to confirm to himself that she was real, and that she was standing in front of him in that moment. "You're shivering", he noted, "I'll get you some dry clothes". He pulled away from her and went to his bag, routing around and pulling out one of his clean flannels and a pair of sweatpants and handing them to her. "Can you... I mean", he cleared his throat nervously. "If you want to, you can stay in this room tonight. I don't think you should go back out into the rain".
"Is it okay with you if I stay here?" She smiled back at him.
"Yes", he said quickly. "I need you tonight... just uh, you make me feel calm, it's like I struggle to feel angry around you", he chuckled softly.
"You have a similar effect on me".
"Really?"
"Dean, your hugs make everything better".
"Come here", he reached his arm out to her and she put the clothes down onto the bed before going to him and being engulfed in his arms again. He held her tightly this time and she smiled as he kissed the top of her head. "You're still damp", he chuckled, and she felt the vibrations from his chest on the side of her face.
"I don't care", she squeezed him back and closed her eyes, hoping they'd somehow end up sharing a bed so she could stay in his arms for the night. She knew he was going to be okay, and that's all she needed in that moment.
The end
Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic @dramatic-long-coats
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spnexploration · 3 months
Text
Comments
Happy birthday Dean Winchester! Here's a quick one-shot I whipped up to celebrate.
This also fulfils the 'Plus Size' square of my @spnaubingo 2023 bingo card, even though it's 2024... I'm late, I know, but I still want to do some more of it!
Pairing: Dean Winchester x plus sized!reader
Words: 1.6k
Warnings: Couple of crap comments from a random, some not-great self-esteem and a drunk character, but nothing particularly bad.
Synopsis: A man you're interviewing makes some crap comments about your body, and Dean doesn't help. Can he make it up to you?
Supernatural writing masterlist
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“Which one’s the father?” The sleazy guy joked. My stomach dropped.
“Excuse me?!”
“Oh, it’s alright love, I know the real father’s probably suffering somewhere alone while you’re off gallivanting with your workmates. I’m surprised he lets you out, really.”
The urge to punch the witness we were interviewing was overwhelming. Rather than ruin the case, I turned on my heel and marched out.
Fuck that guy. I’m not pregnant and I’m not screwing either of the Winchesters.
I heard Dean’s FBI agent tone of voice as he started speaking behind me. Great to see they were all just moving on with their lives, I thought sarcastically.
---
📱 Where are you? We’re going to the next witness’s house
A text came in from Dean. I read it but didn’t reply.
📱 You ok?
I sighed. Finally, he asks.
📱 Fine. I’ll catch up with you later
I replied. He sent me a thumbs up, I rolled my eyes.
I kicked at the ground and started the walk back into town. Sam and Dean would probably try and make me feel better, but I knew that wasn’t happening. I looked down at my soft, flabby belly that I’d tried multiple times to lose.
I walked.
---
I felt a bit absurd, getting tipsy this early. It wasn’t that I felt like I had to drink to get over the comment. It was just  that I’d gotten back to the motel room and was feeling a bit morose, and there was nothing to do. I’d tapped out of the case and I was bored. I went for another wander and this stupid town had nothing in it but a pub, and so somehow I’d ended up here, starting drinking a lot earlier than normal.
And now I looked like I was drinking my feelings, when I wasn’t.
 Not that there was anyone looking at me anyway.
Well, except in disgust. Who knew how many more people in here thought I was pregnant too. Probably thought I was harming an unborn baby, right now.
Fuck them.
---
“You know there’s still a monster on the loose?” Dean said gruffly, a frown on his face. I guess it’d been easy to find me given how few things there were in this town.
“You struggling without me?” I didn’t think I was slurring too much, but his expression did not improve when I started talking.
“How you going to fight one off like this?” he gestured to me.
“You think a few drinks are why I’m fat?” I said sarcastically.
“I’m not calling you fat, I’m calling you drunk.”
“Right,” I said with an eyeroll.
“Come on, get in the car,” he said, trying to tug my arm.
“Fuck off Dean! I can drink if I want to. There’s nothing else to do in this shithole, anyway.”
He dropped my arm and stomped off to the bar.
I turned back to my drink. Sam came and sat opposite me. You can’t escape the bloody Winchesters.
“Hey, you ok?” he asked with his puppy dog eyes.
“I’m fine. I had a free afternoon, I came to get a drink. Is that fucking crime now?”
“I meant about what happened with the guy. You seemed pretty upset.”
“Surprised you could see that, you were both so busy being silent.”
“Didn’t you hear Dean?”
“How could I hear Dean when he wasn’t saying anything?”
“No, he laid right into the guy.”
“You don’t have to lie to make me feel better. I heard Dean get right back into his FBI voice as I walked off.”
“Yeah, he was still in character at first, told the guy that he needed to speak respectfully to Agents. And then when the guy was still a douche he got a bit more Dean and threatened to punch his lights out if he didn’t shut up about you.”
I laughed into my drink. I was sure Sam was embellishing, there was just no way Dean would care that much about someone being mean to me.
Speak of the devil, Dean appeared again, tumbler of whiskey in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He put the water in front of me.
“Thanks, but I don’t accept drinks from strangers,” I said sarcastically.
“I’m not having you hung over tomorrow and being a liability to the case, drink the water.”
“I don’t remember electing you.”
“Jesus, you’re even more belligerent when drunk. Just drink the water and stop moping.”
“I’m not moping!”
“The guy was an asshole, no one thinks you look pregnant. But you can’t just drink yourself blotto and get yourself killed every time someone says something mean to you.”
I stood up, grabbed the glass of water and upended it all over Dean’s face. Then I marched out the door.
The effect was a little ruined by my drunken stagger, though.
---
Sam caught my arm as I got outside. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“I walked myself here, I can walk myself home!”
“I’m pretty sure you were walking in a straight line when you got here though. Come on.”
I let him tug me to the Impala. He must’ve grabbed the keys off Dean before chasing after me.
“He’s just worried about you,” he said gently as we were exiting the carpark. “Doesn’t want you getting hurt.”
“That does not give him a free pass to behave like that.”
---
Dean stood over me, a glass of water and a couple of painkillers in his hands. “Morning, sunshine. Need some relief?”
I gratefully reached out. Man, I did not normally drink that much.
“What time is it?”
 “Time to work the case.”
I groaned, “Can’t you do it without me?”
“No, come on, back on the horse.”
“It’s not the horse that’s the problem, it’s the dog that bit me.”
“I did tell you to drink water,” he said smugly.
“Fuck off!” I threw my pillow at him. He easily deflected but wisely left me alone after that.
I groaned and got off the couch I’d been sleeping on, slumping to the bathroom. The boys were sitting around the tiny table, already dressed and looking at their laptops.
Sam was gone when I came out, freshly showered, dressed and feeling slightly more human. I looked at Dean with a clear question on my face.
“He’s gone for coffee, thought you could use some.”
“Thanks.”
“I, uh,” Dean continued, more hesitantly, “I owe you an apology.”
I crossed my arms across my chest. An apology from Dean was a rare thing, but I was wary it was going to end up being a backhanded insult instead. I often felt like I needed to protect my heart from being hurt by him.
“I was worried about you getting hurt when I saw you were drunk. But I just tried to solve the problem, I didn’t actually talk to you, and I,” he paused, biting his lip, “I shouldn’t do that.”
“Nice to see I’m just a problem,” I replied sarcastically. I wasn’t sure why he was riling me so much, but I still felt so hurt and angry.
He stood up and came over to me. “You’re not a problem,” he said quietly, trying to look into my eyes. I ducked my head away from the intensity of his look. “And I am sorry that asshat upset you.”
“I didn’t get drunk just because some guy called me pregnant, you know.” I could hear how defensive I sounded, despite my best efforts not to.
“It’s a shitty thing he did anyway. You’re beautiful.”
I laughed mirthlessly.
“Don’t do that,” he said quietly. “Don’t put yourself down all the time.”
“Dean, your idea of beautiful is tall, thin, busty and great hair.”
“That’s not true.”
“Well, they’re all thin at least.”
“Who are ‘they’?”
“The women you sleep with, the women you hit on.”
“I can think of many women I’ve hit on who aren’t ‘thin’, it doesn’t matter to me.”
“Suuuure,” I said with an eye roll.
“But I haven’t hit on many women lately, been distracted by one in particular.”
“Let me guess, beautiful?”
“Absolutely.”
“My point exactly. It’s ok Dean, you don’t have to ma-” Dean’s fingers found my chin, nudging it up so I would like at him.
“You’re beautiful,” he said, looking deep into my eyes. “I’m sorry I haven’t made you feel it.”
I stared at him, mouth agape. Absolutely stunned into silence.
“And I’m sorry again that I was a bit of a dick yesterday.”
His face came even closer, watching my reactions.
“You’re my weak spot,” he whispered.
“No, I’m not.” I put my hands on his chest, “Dean, this isn’t funny, don’t tease me.”
He dropped his hand from my chin, looking hesitant. “Sweetheart, I’m putting my heart on the line here, I’m not teasing.”
My hands slackened.
He edged a tiny bit forward.
His tongue darted out and back in. I couldn’t stop staring at his lips.
Was this even real?
How was this happening?
His hand came up to cup my cheek.
I leant forward.
The world suddenly sped up again. Dean moved in, closing the gap between us and bringing his lips to mine. I lost myself in the tenderness of his touch, the softness of his lips, the  exploration of his tongue and mine.
A sudden noise made us pull apart. Sam was standing in the doorway, cardboard holder with coffees in one hand and the other on his hip.
“I’m happy for you guys and all, but we still have a case to work. You can pick this up later.”
.
.
.
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deepinsonder · 1 year
Text
Simple Man, Dean Winchester x reader
Pairings: Dean winchester x female!reader
Warnings: Cuteness
Tags: Fluff
Summary: Dean never thought he’d be one to appricate the small touches you give him, but he loves it more than he cares to admit.
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10:00 am
You were tired, not for any reason but the cold air around you. You exited you and Deans shared room, with a blanket folded on your arms and your computer.
You weren’t sure where Dean was but at least you knew Sam would be huddled at the table, researching cases to wits end. Making your way through the brick laid bunker, your feet padded on the cold concrete floors.
“Sam,” you said in a sing song voice, before you came to the library area. As you looked up, you met eyes with a tired looking Sam, you knew he wasn’t sleeping well but you also knew he took care of himself better than anyone could.
“Hey,” He said, before turning his eyes back onto the screen in front of him.
“Where’s Dean?” You asked, placing your laptop at the table across from Sam and your blanket on the chair.
“Kitchen,” Sam said, still clicking away on his computer, you sighed and made your way to the kitchen, the chills were getting to you, perhaps you should have layered up more.
As you arrived in the kitchen, you noticed a hunched over Dean staring at a book in front of him.
“Hey handsome,” you said walking up to him, he turned around and gave you the same smile he always did - the one that reminded you how lucky you are to be loved by Dean Winchester.
“Morning, Sweetheart,” Dean said, turning his body, anticipating the hug you always gave him in the mornings - Dean never thought he’d be the type of man to like being hugged but every morning when he would wake up before you, he counted the minutes until you eventually found him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
You walked up to him, and pressed your body against his, breathing in the scent as you lifted yourself by the tiptoes and held him - Dean wrapped his arms around your back and mumbled a quiet “i love you” into the nape of your neck.
“What are you up to today?” You asked, lightly pulling yourself away from him to look up into his eyes, his smile caused the lines around his eyes to crinkled as he looked down at you.
“Was waiting for you to decide,” He said, bringing his face in to kiss your lips. Your soothing hand touched his cheek as he continued to smile against your lips.
“There’s a farmers market, half an hour from here - we could go check it out?” You said, breaking away from your embracing and picking up a glass cup to get a drink of water.
“A farmers market?” Dean asked with a small groan.
“Yep,” you said with the pop of your lips, leaning your back against the kitchen counters, the cool metal pressed through the fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing.
“Okay, I’ll get ready,” he said, with a nod as he began to clean up the mess he had made on the counters. You giggled at how quickly he agreed to go with you, normally you’d have to plead but today he was in a good mood you figured.
You came up beside him and placed a small kiss against his upper arm before turning around and walking toward your room.
11:00 am
You were glad you layered up because the cold air hit you like a brick. You breathe turned cold as the air froze around you. Dean opened the car door for you before opening his own and taking a seat, turning up the heater.
You took a seat and turned the radio on, blasting his favourite Led Zeppelin song. He smiled at you before turning around to back out of the garage.
“I need to get some ugly sweaters,” You said, turning your body to face Dean, bringing your you legs to cross on the seat.
“What why?” Dean asked, scrunching up his face him faux disgust.
“For Sam- he’s been working really hard, lately,” You said, taking Dean’s hand from the gear stick and onto your lap, you held his cold palms against your own, rubbing them together to warm you both up.
Dean chuckled at your remark, the thought of Sam in a stupid sweater made you both smile.
He wrapped his fingers through yours giving them a little squeeze as his smile grew, silence consumed the car as you played with his fingers. He would occasionally turn his head to look at you as you met eyes with him and smiled back.
11:45 am
You and Dean stepped out of the car, the cold air wondered around you as you made your way over to him. You took his hand in yours and huddled up close to him, to keep you both warm. You wished the scarf around your neck was thicker as you walked toward the stalls with a glint of anticipation in your eyes.
Picking up the first green and red sweater you saw, you decided it was perfect. Dean pulled out his wallet and handed the shop owner at 10 dollar bill before placing an arm around your shoulders.
“We should get some fresh eggs,” You said, leading you and Dean toward the chicken coups, where there were cartons of eggs displayed.
“Two, thanks” Dean said to the shop owner as he paid and you watched him bag the cartons.
“You look handsome today,” You said, admiring his face and furrowed eyebrows.
“I always look handsome,” He mumbled, with a coy smile playing on his lips. You brought your lips to his as you kissed the smile of his face, “and you always look beautiful,” his comment made you blush - your cheeks turned more red than they already were.
“What else do you need,” You asked, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Let’s just look around,” He smiled against your forehead.
For the remainder of the market, Dean watched, lovingly, as you bought things and picked things up. He hadn’t had many perfect days but today was probably the best he’d had in a long time. He would never admit it to you but when you touched him, his hands, his face - he felt more loved than he had in a long time.
He didn’t need much to be happy but you gave him so more than you would ever know. He was a simple man, he didn’t need much but he knew he would always need you.
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deanscherrypie69 · 2 months
Text
Did it mean something? D.W𖧷
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♡Dean Winchester X Female Reader♡
♡Warnings: Mentions of kissing, and language no use of Y/n. 18+ pls minors DNI!!!!!♡ please do not post my fics anywhere else expect tumblr, you have been warned!
♡Feedback is appreciated! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!!!♡
♡Depending how this does I’ll post a part two!♡
♡My inbox is open for anything! (It will be open for requests soon!)♡
It had been a few days after Sam went to hell. Dean had lost his brother and you had lost your best friend that day. It was hard on you both. You didn't talk about it.
You both had been pushing your feelings down, about the whole situation, too scared to open up. Since Sam had been gone you and Dean had been hunting nonstop. It had been an easier way to cope with everything. Just pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.
You And Dean had just finished vamp hunt and he offered to get food for you both.
After the hunt It had been raining like cats and dogs, you had been stuck in the hotel room trying to get a signal on the tv. "Come on!" You scream hitting the sides of the tv, it had been going out since the storm started, you sigh and run you hand across your face, when you were met with black and white static.
"Piece of shit-" You mutter kicking the bottom of the tv stand. You huff and sit on the edge of one of the motel beds.
You and Dean had been laying low for the past couple of days. You didn't hear from Bobby nor cas. You flop back onto the bed with a groan.
That was until the motel door swung open causing you to look over.
"Still nothing?" Dean questions throwing a white fastfood bag onto the little table in the kitchen.
"Nope." You say still looking at the ceiling.
You hear shuffling for a second, then you see the green eyed hunter standing over you with something wrapped in tinfoil. "Eat." He says placing it next to you.
You quickly sit up and grab the burger. You watch as Dean sits on the bed opposite bed across from you, he begins to unwrap the burger he had gotten both of you.
You watch as he bites into it, but you also noticed his wet hair. You watch him take two bites before looking in your direction.
Dean stops chewing the food in his mouth, "What?" He questions when he catches you stare at him.
"Nothing." You say.
Dean mumbles an 'ok' and continues to eat.
For some guy who had lost his brother he seems to be doing just fine. You get up from the bed, and walk into the kitchen, pulling out the chair you pull back the motel curtain, you stare out the window and watch the rain fall.
You missed Sam, he was your besfriend - besides Dean you thought, you and Dean were never really close it upset you, he never really talked to you about anything besides Sam. When you entered the room he'd go quite.
You never understood why.
You had been staring out the window for too long to notice the green eyed hunter sitting across from you.
"You really should eat."
His voice rumbles through your body. "I'm good." You say looking from the window and to the man that had been sitting across from you for god knows how long.
Dean sighs and leans back in the chair.
"You okay Dean?" You Hum crossing your arms over your chest.
"As good as i can be." He huffs through his nose, "I could ask you the same thing, I know loosing your bestfriend is hard." He says.
You roll your eyes, "He's your brother Dean."
Dean leans forward on the table his arms resting against the table. He nods his head, "We'll get him back." Dean says taking a deep breath, "We always do." He gets up from the table tapping his knuckles against the wood.
You notice the bruises that sit upon his knuckles, they were purple. He had gotten them trying to fight of a vampire, to save you.
"Sorry about that." You swallow, your eyes still focused on the purple.
Dean follows your gaze.
"Its nothing, happens." He says walking over to the fridge, he opens it pulling out two beers. He holds one up, He knew you weren't very much of a drinker. You hated beer. But why the hell not, right?
You get up from your chair and make your way over to Dean where he was leaning against the counter. He flicks the bottle top off and plops it in the sink behind him.
You copy his motion, you step beside him and plop the top into the sink.
You bring the bottle up to your lips, the bitter liquid runs down your throat. pullinging the bottle away, you notice Dean's eyes on yours.
"What?" You hiccup.
"Nothing," He says bringing the glass bottle up to his lips.
You begin to fidgit with the bottle, you were still facing the sink, staring down at the two bottle tops in the sink. "Do you ever think about it?" You hum.
Dean turns his head in confusion, "Think about..? he questions, you noticed the confusion in his voice.
You take a deep breath, "Getting out, hunting. And living a normal life."
Dean stares down at his bottle, "All the time." Dean sighs.
He had called one of his lovers, Lisa hoping to rekindle something with her now that Sam was gone, she said yes. Dean was supposed to leave by morning.
But Dean didn't know if he wanted too, it would leave you alone and he knew that you were counting on him to be there.
You sigh.
You could see Dean shifing in his spot. What was he thinking about you wonder?
You place the beer bottle down on the counter, making your way over to the bed. The staic looking on the tv fills your ears.
"Do you think about it?" Dean asks putting his bottle next to yours. He strieds over to the bed and sits next to you.
Talking a shaky breath, you turn to face the green eyed man. "No." Dean watches you fiddle with your fingers, as he waits for you to contiue, "I never saw myself settling down, or getting out of this life, it's not for me. This is my life. There's no changing that."
Dean nods at your words.
You look up to find the man looking at you. His eyes searching your face, going back and forth between your eyes and lips.
It all happened to fast, Dean's lips on yours you his on his shirt, urging him to take it off.
This was wrong, you thought. You never felt this way about him. He was so mysterious, he never let you in on anything that happened to him, it was always Sam filling you in.
You both could barely be in a room together without one of you leaving because of the awkwardness.
But maybe it was Dean putting up a guard to try and protect you. He knew you didn't belong in this life, hunting and killing things. It just wasn't right for you.
You're different you aren't like him or Sam. And that's what Dean liked.
You were bought out of your thoughts when Dean nipped your ear causing you to squeal. "everything okay?" Dean questions looking up. You were straddling him.
His lips were pink and swollen from the kissing.
You quickly nod and grab his face, pressing your lips against his.
- - You had been woken up by a pounding on the door, you shoot up out of the bed, your eyes still trying to adjust from the light that was coming through the window.
You quickly pull the covers from your body, cold air hits your skin, you were naked. "Shit." You mumble, the pouding on the door didn't stop.
You looking over on the side of your bed where you were hoping to find Dean but he was gone. A bad feeling washed over you when you slide you t-shirt over your head.
You smelt him everywhere. In your skin in your hair. He was everywhere but no where all at once.
Putting the last leg into your jean's you fling open the door.
You were met with an old lady and a cleaning cart, "Room service!" She smiles, squeezing past you with her cart. You close the door behind you.
You quickly rush over to the bathrrom, maybe he'd just been in there, but you were met with a dark room. His duffle bag was gone. You swallow hard.
You walk back into the kitchen to find the beer bottles still sitting on the counter. Everything was gone, he was gone.
Tears form in your eyes. You grab your socks and shoes, and your coat that had been on the back of the chair in the kitchen chair.
You do a quick run through of the room to make sure you weren't missing anything.
Turing your head over your shoulder you had noticed the tv wasn't static anymore, an episode of 'Dr sexy' Was playing on the screen.
The cleaning lady had made her way over to the kitchen area, throwing away the bottles you and Dean had drank out of earlier.
You sigh and fish the hotel key out of your pocket before setting it down on the table.
You shut the door of the motel behind you, you fish out your phone and scroll through your contacts.
You click on the name before letting it ring a few times.
"Hey Bobby, care to give a girl a lift?"
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Just thinking about how Dean calls Sam "little brother" so often and how that's always felt unnatural to me. I don't know any siblings I've ever met who actually use the phrase "big brother" or "little brother" when actually talking to their siblings.
And there's the fact that Sam doesn't really say it back. Like he says "he's my big brother" or even "you're my big brother", but he doesn't ever really seem to use it in place of Dean's name the way Dean does for Sam.
So I've always wondered where that came from, and when Dean picked it up.
I have a theory that it was actually at the very beginning. I can imagine Mary and John telling him "This is Sam. He's your little brother." And that standing out to him because Sam is clearly everyone's but he's only his little brother.
Maybe that hadn't fully set in though until the night of the fire, when his dad tells him "grab your brother and run!", and as his house is burning down behind him, and he sits on that back of the ambulance with his dad and knowing he's lost his mom, maybe that phrase repeats in his head. Your brother. Your brother. Your your your.
And I think that did something to Dean's brain. Especially as his Dad starts leaving them more and more. Houses? They can be lost. Mom's? They die. Dad's? They weren't really all there in the first place. But little brothers? The thing that's only his? They're his. They're his, he can grab them, and he can keep them, and as long as that stays, as long as he has a little brother, he's got one thing.
Maybe he repeats that in his head over and over until he can finally speak again after the fire. My little brother. Little brother. Mine. Maybe that stays even after he can speak again, after all Sammy is too young to really know any different or correct him. So maybe sometimes when Dean folds himself in his brother's crib he says that out loud, over and over, to reassure himself he's still got something to hold onto.
Little brother, little brother, little brother.
I think eventually he does clearly grow out of it, he grows old enough to start calling Sam Sammy. But I think when he gets stressed, when he feels like things are slipping away, it falls out like an old balm on wounds that never closed.
I think that's why it slips out sometimes in the show. Sometimes that habit he has still comes forward, and he just needs to know. Little brother? (Are you ok?) Little brother? (Do I still have you?) Little brother? (Am I ok?)
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cosmicanakin · 7 days
Text
Mile High Club
adult content | minors do NOT interact.
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Pairing. Dean Winchester x Female Reader.
Outline. You and Dean slip away from Sam and Bobby for a moment to indulge Dean's neediness in the backseat of the Impala.
Warning(s). Smut (P in V – wrap it up folks), Praising, Explicit Language, Semi Public Sex, Pet Names, & Sam teasing both Dean & Reader.
Word Count. 984
Authors Note. I know that I've been slacking with writing nowadays, I'm so sorry. I was—am focusing on myself to better my mental health. But to make up for it, I give you this. So I hope you're taking good care of yourselves & I love you so much. Enjoyyyy!
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You couldn’t believe this was happening. Here you were, bouncing feverishly on Dean Winchester’s cock in the backseat of the Impala, his hands gripping your hips as he moaned in pure ecstasy.
The case you were supposed to be working on with Sam and Bobby was the furthest thing from your mind right now. All that mattered was the delicious friction building between your bodies, the way Dean’s thick, throbbing length filled you up so perfectly.
“That’s it, baby,” Dean growled, voice gravelly with lust. “Ride my dick just like that. You’re such a good girl, taking me so well.”
You whimpered, your nails digging into the firm muscles of his shoulders as you picked up the pace, your hips rolling and grinding against him in a desperate rhythm. The sounds of your bodies joining together echoed through the confines of the car, only spurring Dean on further.
“Fuck, you feel so goddamn good,” he groaned, his fingers tightening their grip on your hips. “My gorgeous little slut, riding me so fucking good.”
The praise sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, and you felt the familiar coil of tension building deep within you. You were so close, teetering on the edge of ecstasy, and Dean could tell.
“Go ahead, darlin’, come for me,” he demanded, his thumb brushing against your sensitive bundle of nerves. “Show me how much you love my cock.”
With a sharp cry, you surrendered to the overwhelming sensations, your body trembling as wave after wave of mind-blowing pleasure washed over you. Dean followed closely behind, his hips snapping up into you as he spilled himself deep inside.
For a moment, the only sounds were the heavy panting of your breaths and the occasional contented hum from Dean. Then, finally, he pulled you down for a searing kiss, his hands caressing your flushed skin.
“Damn, Y/N, you’re fuckin’ perfect,” he murmured, his lips trailing down your neck. “I could do this all day.”
You chuckled breathlessly, your fingers tracing the strong lines of his jaw. “As much as I’d love to, we should probably get back to helping Sam and Bobby,”you said, reluctantly lifting yourself off of him.
Dean groaned in protest, his hands sliding down to grip your thighs again. “Do we have to?” he whined, his eyes pleading. “I’m not done with you yet.”
You laughed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “Yes, we have to,” you said firmly, already starting to redress. “The sooner we get this case wrapped up, the sooner we can come back here and pick up where we left off.”
Dean pouted, but he knew better than to argue. With a resigned sigh, he began to clean himself up, already mentally planning all the ways he was going to ravish you once this job was done.
Bonus Part.
By the time you and Dean finally emerged from the Impala, faces flushed and clothes slightly disheveled, Sam was waiting for you with a knowing smirk on his face.
“Well, well, look who decided to join us,” he quipped, his eyes flickering between you and his brother. “And just where have you two been, hmm?”
You felt your cheeks burning with embarrassment, your mind racing to come up with a plausible excuse. But one glance at Dean’s guilty expression told you that Sam already knew exactly what you two had been up to.
“We, uh, we were just—” Dean began, only to be cut off by the gruff voice of Bobby, who came storming out of the motel room.
“Where the hell have you two idjits been?” he growled, his brow furrowed in frustration. “We’ve been waitin’ on you for over an hour! Sam and I could’ve used your help, you know.”
You cringed, fully prepared for the tongue-lashing you and Dean were about to receive. But to your surprise, Sam stepped in, his expression far too innocent to be believable.
“Oh, I’m sure they were, uh, otherwise occupied,” he said, his lips twitching with amusement. “Isn’t that right, you two?”
Dean shot his brother a withering glare, but Sam only grinned, waggling his eyebrows suggestively. You wanted nothing more than to disappear into the ground, your mortification notable.
“What the hell are you talkin’ about, boy?” Bobby demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.
Sam chuckled, jerking his thumb in your direction. “Well, let’s just say our dear friend Y/N here has been, uh, keeping Dean “company” while the rest of us were working."
Your mouth fell open in shock, and you could practically feel the heat radiating from Dean's body as he shifted uncomfortably beside you. Bobby’s eyes widened with realization, and a gruff, disapproving grunt escaped his lips.
“Oh, for the love of—” he muttered, shaking his head in exasperation. “You two idjits couldn’t keep it in your pants for five minutes, could you?”
You felt the embarrassment coursing through you, and you resisted the overwhelming urge to bury your face in your hands. But Dean, ever the quick-witted one, managed to find his voice.
“Hey, come on, it’s not our fault you two were taking forever!” he protested, his tone defensive. “We were just, you know, passing the time.”
Sam burst out laughing, slapping his knees in amusement. “Oh, I’ll bet you were,” he chuckled, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Just try to keep it in your pants from now on, huh? We’ve got work to do.”
With that, he turned and headed back towards the motel room, leaving you and Dean to face the wrath of a thoroughly exasperated Bobby. As the older hunter launched into a lecture about professionalism and work ethic, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was the most embarrassed you’d ever been in your life.
But as you glanced over at Dean, the sheepish grin on his face told you that he wouldn't have had it any other way.
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Comfort Crowd
main masterlist | supernatural masterlist
summary: dean just needs you next to him
pairing: (stanford era) dean winchester x female reader
rating: R for language 
word count: 1.9k
warnings: hurt/sad dean, language, reader drives after drinking but she’s not drunk, that’s it i think
author’s note: i know this gif is of jason teague and not dean winchester but that’s literally samford era jackles so i think it fits perfectly <3
music: comfort crowd by conan gray — was listening to conan gray and bam! dean winchester fic idea! anyways…
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When you saw who was calling your brows furrowed — Dean? You had talked to him earlier in the week, just a casual check-in to make sure you were both still alive. You and Dean had gotten into a fight about a month prior and you both decided to just take a break from each other. You had made it clear that you were not breaking up with him, you just needed a break.
Last time you talked he was working a case in Texas, something with ghouls and sororities. You had just finished up a werewolf hunt and he had voiced his jealousy. He hadn’t gotten to fight a werewolf in many, many moons (pun intended).
“Dean?” you answered the call, still holding your first beer of the night in your free hand. He didn’t say anything, there was only labored breathing on the other side and that worried you. “Dean? Honey, is everything okay?” He still said nothing. “Dean, what’s—”
“Where are you?” he asked. His voice was clearly on the verge of cracking. He’d been crying?
“Uh, Bakersfield California,” you told him. “Just finished another case, simple ghost hunt. What’s wrong, Dean?” He again went back to just breathing. “Dean, where are you?”
“I’m in Palo Alto,” he said. “You—Could you get up here, p-please? I need you, hun. I just—I need you here.”
“I’ll be right there Dean, four hours tops,” you told him. You stood up off your chair and paid your tab. “Talk to me, what’s wrong?”
“I can’t…fuck, I just wanna see you…please?”
“Of course, Dean, I’ll be there soon,” you reminded him. “What motel are you staying at?”
“I can text you the address just please…please hurry.”
With that, he hung up. 
Please don’t be dying, you thought to yourself. 
**
After several traffic violations and broken speed limits, you were finally knocking on his door.
“Dean!” you called out, not caring if it was now nearly three in the morning and there were definitely other people staying at the motel. “For the love of god Dean, open the fucking door!”
He unlocked and opened the door, rubbing his tired eyes. “Hey, you made it.” He smiled a little…smiled?
“Dean what the hell is going on?” you asked, trying to stay calm as you walked into the room. “You—That call? What’s up with you?”
“Nothing,” he shrugged, “I’m fine.”
“Fine?” You furrowed your brows. “Dean you called me in tears and asked me to race over here as if you were dying?”
“I…I wasn’t in tears,” he mumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Hang on…how do I know you’re you?” you asked. 
He smiled and rolled his eyes a little before you both did the usual tests.
“See, sweetheart? All me!” He smiled again.
“Dean,” you said softly, “what’s going on? Are you…Are you dying?”
“No!” he scoffed, not calming your nerves in the slightest. “I’m sorry I scared you I just…needed you here. With me, next to me. I—Fuck, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize, Dean,” you shook your head, “I get it.”
You walked over to him and pulled him down into a hug; your right hand went to the back of his head as your fingers combed through his hair. 
“I’m here Dean, you’re okay,” you told him. His grip tightened around you, as if he was scared you’d break off the hug. “I’m right here.”
“Thank you,” he whispered, his voice cracking again. “Thank you.” 
The two of you stayed like that for what felt like an eternity. You were on your tiptoes, which was kind of uncomfortable, but your love for the man in your arms outweighed any discomfort. You felt Dean’s tears begin to dampen your neck and your eyes grew cloudy at the thought of him in pain. He truly mastered the art of silent crying, he must’ve had to hide his tears from that bastard father of his growing up, and that thought only made your heart break more. Your grip tightened around his shoulders and you turned your head so you could place a soft kiss on his temple. You made a trail of kisses down to his jawline then left your lips there against his skin. 
“Thank you,” he pulled away, “just…thanks.”
“Do you wanna lay down, Dean?” you asked. “We could cuddle up and maybe watch a movie? Or we could listen to music? I’ve got my iPod and we could share my earbuds?”
A soft smile returned to his tear-stained face and he nodded; “Music sounds perfect.”
“Mkay,” you replied. “Now, I have to admit I don’t have many Zeppelin songs downloaded—”
“It’s okay,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what song we play, as long…as long as you’re here. Just need your company.”
“Funnily enough, I do have some Bad Company songs,” you joked, causing his smile to grow. 
“You’re the best company,” he countered. 
“Why don’t you change into your PJs while I go get my bags from the car? We can get comfortable in the bed and maybe you’ll even get some sleep.”
**
Your fingers were once again tangled in Dean’s hair as his head lay on your chest, he was facing away from you but you knew he was still crying. You just didn’t know why.
“Is this Heuy Lewis?” Dean chuckled.
“Hey! No disrespecting Heuy!” you laughed, but Dean knew you were serious. “You want me to skip it?”
“Nah, I’ll live,” he joked. The joke made your heart clench a little though; your mind going back to the call he made to you a mere few hours ago. How scared he sounded. How scared you were as you raced to get to him. Dean must’ve sensed the change in the room because he made sure to remind you; “I’m fine.”
“You said that line already, Dean,” you said through a sigh. “I’m here if you wanna talk, okay?”
“I don’t wanna talk,” he mumbled. “I meant what I said—I just need you here with me, I just need you around.” 
Your free hand (the one that wasn’t currently in Dean’s hair) went to rub comforting circles on his upper back. He let out a contented sigh which made you smile.
“I love you, Dean,” you told him. “I love you more than anything, you know that, right?”
“Thank you,” he mumbled. He buried his face against your chest, trying to hide the sheepish smile forcing its way onto his face before he lifted his head so he could look into your eyes. “I love you so much.”
He leaned over and kissed you softly, his smile connecting with yours. He pulled away after a moment, simply looking into your eyes. He kissed you once more before laying back down, this time resting his head next to yours so he could kiss you again. 
“Sorry about your shirt,” he said, laughing awkwardly at the damp mess of spilled tears covering a fair portion of your tee.
“I don’t mind, kinda like my shirt soggy,” you shrugged with a smile, pulling him closer to you and tucking your head under his chin. 
**
When you woke the next morning you did not expect Dean to be singing to himself while making breakfast.
“What time is it?” you asked with a yawn as you sat up in bed. 
“About seven,” he replied. “Good morning, by the way.”
“Good morning.”
You hurried over to the small kitchen so you could wrap your arms around him from behind.
“What’s gotten into you?” he teased. 
“Could ask you the same question, handsome,” you replied, not letting go. “The food smells amazing and all, but since when do you cook?”
“Remember that fight we had?”
“I vaguely recall,” you said, somewhat flatly. 
“I’ve been working on my breakfast cooking so when I saw you again I could you know…woo you.”
“‘Woo me’?” You raised a brow, your smile growing. “You’re wooing me…with bacon?”
“Damn right!” he scoffed lightheartedly. “I know the way into your heart, and whether you admit it or not—it’s mother fuckin’ breakfast food.”
“You know me way too well,” you laughed. “I’m officially wooed.”
There was a comfortable silence before Dean answered the question he knew you were still wondering about; “Sam and I fought last night.”
“I’m sorry,” you said.
“I knew him going to a fancy college would put a bit of a rift between us…but fuck, sweetheart,” he said. He ran his hands down his face before he leaned against the counter and looked at you; “I think we…I don’t think Sammy and I will ever be as close as we were growin’ up ever again.”
“I’m sure that’s not true, Dean,” you assured him, placing a hand on his bicep and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Sammy just needs time, maybe a bit of space, but that’s only temporary, Dean.”
“Seems like everyone around me always needs space,” he chuckled humorously. 
“If this is about what I said—”
“Nah, you don’t have to explain yourself, I get it!” He shook his head, faking a smile. “You couldn’t stand being around me all the time and hey, that’s okay.”
Your brows furrowed with slight anger; “That’s not what I said, Dean.”
“That’s what it sounded like,” he mumbled before he turned back to the stove to continue making breakfast. 
“Dean I love you, you know I love you!” you said. “I raced here last night when you asked me to, doesn’t that prove I love you!?”
“And what happens when we get into another fight?” he exclaimed. “What happens when you decide that you need more space and you don’t bother coming back to me?”
“That’s not going to happen?” you countered. 
“You can’t say that for sure,” Dean said. 
“Yes I can, Dean!”
“What makes you think that, huh?” he replied loudly. “What makes you think you aren’t gonna run the second you realize that putting space between was the best decision of your fucking life!?”
“Because I love you, Dean!” you said, matching his tone. “Because no matter how far away I was from you the one thought running through my head was that I should call you. That I should stop being so stubborn and run back to you.” You sighed as he continued cooking and you went up to him again, leaning on his bicep and running your hands up and down his forearm. “Because when I got that call…all logic flew out the window and all that mattered to me was getting to you. When I thought you might be dying I didn’t care about anything else and I raced to you like a mad woman. Like a girl so lovestruck she’s practically crazy!”
Dean let out a chuckle which made you smile.
“So…you’re sayin’ you missed me?” he asked, a cocky smirk finding its way to his lips.
“Yes,” you sighed dramatically. “Okay? Yes, Dean, I missed you like fuckin’ crazy, and I’m sorry for ever suggesting we take a damn break. But… you know what this means now, right?”
He looked at you cautiously; “What?”
“You’re stuck with me, Winchester.” You grinned. “And I’m never letting you go again.”
“Sounds good to me,” he replied as he leaned down and kissed you.
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