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#spn fanfiction
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With Love From
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~800
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x wife reader that she spoiled and pampering him to much but she don’t cared and she love giving him love, attention, affection, and etc all things him always dreamed?. something cute and fluffy because him deserve all the love from the world. 
Summary: You take Dean on a much-needed vacation and give him everything he wants and deserves.
Square Filled: driving in the impala (2022) for @spndeanbingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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“Got your pajamas?”
“Yes.”
“Toothbrush and toothpaste?”
“Yes.”
“What about your chargers? I put an extra one in your bag just in case.”
“What are you, my mom?” Dean jokes. “Yes, I have everything.”
“Okay, don’t come crying to me when you’ve forgotten something and ask to use my toothbrush. I won’t do it again.”
“That was one time.”
“One time too many. We’ve done a lot of things, Dean Winchester, but sharing a toothbrush is gonna be a no for me.”
“Yes, I have everything. Why are you bugging out? You’re never like this whenever we go on a hunt.”
Dean takes both yours and his bags to the library where Sam is. He has his laptop and plenty of books all around him. There is a case not far from here that he is reading up on since he is going to be the one to tackle this case.
“We’re not going on a hunt,” you reveal when he sets the bags on the table.
“What?”
“We’re not going on a hunt.”
“Sam’s been working like crazy about this case a few towns over.”
“Yeah because he’s going to be the one to take care of it. We’re not.”
“Sam, what is she talking about?” Dean asks.
“Dude, I am just as clueless as you,” he chuckles and closes his laptop. “All I know is that I’m doing this one solo.”
“If we’re not going on a hunt, where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“You know I hate surprises,” Dean practically whines.
“Well, you’re getting one today. No hunt. No monsters. Definitely alcohol. Does that sound like a great time?” you smile.
“Sounds like a Saturday to me.”
“Come on, we’re going to be late if we don’t leave now.” You see the look on Dean’s face and immediately shuts down what he is going to say next. “If Sam needs help, he can call Garth.”
“Yeah, go have fun. I got this,” Sam backs you up.
You and Dean pack up the Impala and say your goodbyes to Sam who barely waves you two off. Dean is always the driver unless otherwise preoccupied, so he gets behind the wheel even though he has no idea where he’s going. You’re going to be the navigator for this special trip, only telling him what turns to make right before he needs to do them.
“Shall I put on the special playlist?”
“Special playlist? What’s the occasion?”
“I love you. Is that enough?”
“More than enough,” he smiles.
His special playlist consists of songs he could listen to on repeat for hours. Sam doesn’t let him put the playlist on since Sam complains he needs to listen to more than just classic rock. He claims they all sound the same even though each has their own unique sound.
About halfway through the trip, you stopped to get food at Dean’s favorite diner. He often comes here while on hunts even if it’s hours out of the way. There’s something about the way they make their burgers that has his mouth watering every single time.
“Okay, tell me where we’re going,” Dean chuckles with his mouth full.
“I told you it’s a surprise,” you smile. “You’re going to love it.”
Dean has no choice but to trust you. Once you two get done eating, you get back on the road and tough out the last half of the trip. You took over driving for the last hour just so he wouldn’t be suspicious of where you two were going but as soon as Dean sees the town’s name, he gets so excited.
“Wait, we’re in Mt. Sterling?”
“Yeah.”
You drive to one of the best gun stores in America. They have such a high rating since people from all over the country come here just to buy guns. Dean has been wanting to come here for a long time, and you figure it’s time to bring him. Dean is practically bouncing in his seat when you park, and he jumps out of the car in excitement.
You watch him run into the store with a smile on your face, and you make sure the car is locked before following him inside. He is like a child loose in a candy store or a toy store. He is admiring all of the guns on display, holding them just to feel how they would fit in his hands.
“Pick any you want. I’ll get it for you.”
“Wait, really?”
“Yeah.”
“I love you so much,” he grins and kisses you.
Seeing him so happy brings you so much joy. He doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to be this happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be this happy most of the time, so taking time to give him this is very important. He channels his inner child and goes wild. He settled on another handgun that closely resembles the one he has now, but it has a silencer on the end of it which will make for easy hunting.
After he got all that excitement out, you two headed to the bar across the street to have a few rounds on you.
“How the hell did I ever get so lucky?” he smiles.
“I’m the lucky one, my love. You deserve all the love in the world.”
Dean leans in and kisses you, happy to be yours.
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mlmxreader · 2 days
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Can't Let Go | Dean Winchester x gn!reader
『••✎••』
↳ ❝ Dean Winchester with "Just close your eyes and go to sleep, I'll still be here" please ❞
: ̗̀➛ Dean loves you, but he can't let you go even though he knows he'll hurt you.
: ̗̀➛ swearing, mentions of violence
•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•
You were fucking exhausted as you opened the motel room door, throwing your bag down with a huff and kicking your shoes off before wriggling out of your ripped and dirty jeans and slinking underneath the thin duvet.
A sharp sigh coming from the back of your throat as you closed your eyes and wished the world would fall silent for once. 
You were wide awake when you heard Dean get out of the shower, and although you were too tired to stand upright, you managed to wave your hand lazily to show him that you were still awake.
You just wanted to sleep, after dealing with a werewolf that did not want to get caught, you felt like you had fallen flat on your face and couldn’t get up.
Dean didn’t even question it, he knew better than anyone in the world what that feeling was like, and he didn’t bother to get dressed as he got into the bed behind you, waiting for you to turn onto your side before he pulled you as close as he possibly could.
His arms settled limply on you, one underneath your body and one over your hip as he yawned softly and pressed his face to the back of your neck; he was glad that you had kept up your end of the bargain, at least.
The deal was to meet him at his motel room the second that you were finished with your hunt in exchange for him letting you borrow his shirt for the day after yours had been ripped and torn.
You wriggled around a little, pressing your ass against his groin as you sighed and drifted one hand to meet his, the other resting under your head as you finally closed your eyes; you were hardly concentrating on anything else except the feeling of his arms around you.
It seemed like you had not felt that for years, even though the last time you saw Dean was only two weeks ago; but as hunters, you were rarely afforded that kind of time together. 
You sighed again as you rolled onto your other side, your forehead smacking into his for a moment and making you both quietly laugh before he grumbled and fidgeted to get closer to you; it was physically impossible, but you both still tried desperately.
Seeking warmth and comfort as much as you could, especially given how cold it was inside and how the motel had no heating whatsoever.
“I never wanna deal with a werewolf again,” you muttered, halfway into a yawn.
Dean almost laughed as he buried his head against you, his hair tickling your chin. “I feel ya - that shapeshifter Sammy and I took down… eugh.”
You wanted to laugh, although your body would only allow you to produce a yawn as you raised your leg and dropped it over his hip. “‘M exhausted, can’t lie.”
He nodded, licking his lips as he hummed ever so softly. “I can tell - you haven’t even kissed me yet.”
“Maybe later,” you whispered, letting your hand drift to his hair and gently rake through it. “You smell good…”
“Motel soap,” he chuckled. “Best in the world at getting out goo.”
You smiled, shaking your head fondly as you fought against the urge to close your eyes. Dean could tell more than easily as he moved his hand, letting it flop down just above your hip. “Are you not cold?”
“Not really,” he mumbled. “But just close your eyes and go to sleep, I’ll still be here.”
“Would you-” a sharp and harsh yawn made its way through you, forcing your eyes to water and your mouth to ache slightly. “Would you mind singing to me? I know you don’t like it but… could you?”
Dean slowly nodded as his eyes drifted shut. “Home is a friendly space, home is a familiar face inside the door, all curled up on the bedroom floor. Home is where I find the bed, some place to lead my head to morning comes, singing here comes the sun. Does it matter where I go or what I do? I can’t lie, you know it’s true, it ain’t home without you. Some people spend their days, lost in a heartless haze out in the cold if I may be so bold, that life is not for me ‘cause every day I see a better way and I can surely say…”
As he trailed off, he pulled away slightly to look at you, and he smiled; you were sound asleep, your head tilted slightly and your eyes tightly shut. Your breathing was steady and even, and your body was limp to the touch.
He was glad, as he knew how little sleep you got - usually around the same that he did - and that you deserved it a lot more than he did; all the times he had fucked you around, cancelled plans and gone out hunting when he really shouldn’t have - he hardly deserved you. 
He had been loyal, of course he was, Dean was always so loyal to those he loved; but he knew that he was far from good enough to be with you. You were everything; you were smart and kind and brave and loyal, and he was just loyal.
Even though you tried to convince him a thousand times over that he was all of those things and more. You never got through to him.
Dean knew that you were too good for him, but he couldn’t bring himself to let you go; you loved him so much, he knew that, just as he knew that you would always be loyal to him.
He couldn’t let you go, even though he knew that he would only hurt you in the end; he knew he would hurt you, but he wouldn’t - couldn’t - allow you to let go. 
So he snuggled down, pressing his lips to your throat as he closed his eyes and let out a quiet sigh, hoping to get some sleep before the morning when you left. 
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Polish and Shine (Supernatural One-Shot)
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Sam Winchester x GN!Reader / requests are open
Summary: Sam chews on his nails a lot. Too much. You come up with a plan to break the habit.
Fic type: comfort, fluff
CW: this lil fic contains mentions of Sam wanting to explore his gender : ) not much, just mentions of him enjoying feeling feminine (please be gentle with me, this one has a lil piece of me in it).
SPN: @wereallbrokenangels @nervoussystemss (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)
─── ・ 。゚☆: *.☽ .* :☆゚. ───
It's not something you noticed a lot at first. To be quite honest, your social awareness wasn't the best, and looking at people head-on was something you struggled with even after you got to know someone.
But you did start noticing it. It seemed that he did it more at night when it was just him and his thoughts and the big dark room lit up only by his laptop at the table. On a side note, he was going to ruin his eyesight if he kept that up.
But he also did it in the Impala, or after a disturbing interview, or even just when Dean was late back from some girl or guy's place he picked up at the bar.
Chewing his nails... Sam was always chewing on his nails. You understood why, of course. It was an anxiety thing. A stress thing. You'd be lying if you said you didn't fall victim to the same impulse sometimes, but the amount of nail-chewing was starting to worry you.
It had gotten so bad that Dean had started slapping at Sam's hand if he noticed him raising it towards his mouth, one hand on the wheel and his eyes piercing warning daggers into Sam's soul as he pointed at him accusatorially. A silent "stop it right now before I turn Baby around."
It only stopped him from doing it so much on the road. Less so anywhere else. You'd been keeping a quiet eye on Sam the last few days, watching him chew his nails back to the skin. Irritating the skin and the keratin so much that it was probably hurting him. You weren't even sure what was worrying him so much.
You'd been brainstorming ideas to help him with the impulse for a few days until it finally came to you one morning when you were making a med-kit run- stocking up on all the things you all would definitely need at one point or another.
Nail polish. Of course! You'd picked up a couple different colours- given they were all out of transparent along with your bandages, iodine and Betadine and headed back to the motel of the day.
Sam had looked at the bottles in your hand with a raised brow when you brandished them. He picked one up, twirled it around and set it down on the counter.
"Do you want me to paint your nails for you or something?" He asked. Now, you couldn't say that wasn't appealing and that you weren't keen on that idea, because you were, but that was not the purpose of this little exercise.
"Maybe later, Sam. I got them for you-"
"For me?" He cut you off with one of those little huffy laughs he was so good at. You pulled a chair out and sat down, setting the bag on the counter and grabbing one of the bottles.
"Yes, for you," you reiterated, reaching for one of his hands. Sam allowed you to take it and take a look at the abused fingers. "Look, I- I've noticed you chew your nails a lot- and this looks like it hurts. I know Dean wants you to stop, and I imagine you'd also like to break the habit, yes?"
Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat, averting his eyes from your warm gaze.
"Yes," was his soft reply. You nodded, giving his hand a squeeze.
"This might help you break the habit. Plus, you'll look super pretty."
Sam snorted. His eyes darted back to look at you, and you really saw how shy and vulnerable he was feeling at that moment. It made you want to wrap him up and keep him safe.
"So, they didn't have clear," you explained, voice soft as if trying not to spook a deer. Or a moose, you supposed, in this case. "But I got you a few colours to choose from. Which one takes your fancy?"
You know exactly what he's going to pick before he does it. The forest-green. He hands you the vial and you let go of his hand to shake it up and unscrew the cap.
Sam sits patiently for you while you work, occasionally clearing his throat or giving you a quick smile. It doesn't take long, only a few minutes. Let it dry, then another coat. Let that dry. Done.
"There, all done," you exclaim, leaning back and stretching your back so it pops nicely. "Very nice, very nice," you approve. Sam fans his fingers out and juts his lower lip out thoughtfully.
"You know- I kinda like it," he blinked as though the discovery shocked him. "Can I do yours next?"
And so began a tradition. Once a fortnight you'd both paint each other's nails. Dean even got into it after a few weeks, getting his own done, too. Sam had been worried at first that Dean would make fun of him for his nails, but the only thing Dean had said after he returned toting beer and Chinese food was "nice choice, Sammy" as he cracked a beer and propped his feet up.
Sam continued to chew on his nails for a bit. It was a learning curve, after all, but he did end up slowing down and eventually stopping completely. You hadn't mentioned to Sam that he'd stopped just in case he hadn't realised, but you and Dean had shared a beer over the silent victory. And when Sam brought the victory to you both a few days after that, all three of you shared a beer then, too.
You and Sam continued to wear different shades and Sam even learned to put the polish on himself, though he vastly preferred you to put it on for him. Considered a bonding moment, which was cute. Dean would participate occasionally, and eventually, Sam admitted that he liked how feminine the polish made him feel.
After that- things sort of migrated from just nail polish to brushing his hair and experimenting with colour in his wardrobe. That was all he was really comfortable with for now, but that wasn't a problem. You were just glad he felt comfortable enough to share such personal information with you.
You both loved each other so much, and one of the best things about found family was that you knew you would be pillars of support for each other.
No matter what.
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mrs-padalecki2341 · 22 hours
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Hey um. This is my first time doing an ask but can u maybe please write an enemy to lovers
Sam and reader (reader is assumed to be vamp or wolf or something else but is innocent and 100% human)
Misunderstanding
(Sam x Reader)
I tried my best to fit the prompt, so I hope I did okay and that you like it! Enjoy!
Warnings/Promises: Gunshot wound, canon level violence, smut, screaming kink, unprotected sex/ creampie (wrap it before you tap it), slight praise, kind of like an enemies to lovers thing, I think that’s it but lmk if I missed something.
~~~
You were on a case, hunting what seemed to be a werewolf. After three days and no luck, you decided to take a break and hit the local bar. Now, you were on your way back to the motel, when someone screamed help from an allyway.
You turned the corner to see the werewolf running off and a man lying dead on the ground.
You walked over and crouched beside him to check for a heart, and sure enough, it was missing.
You sighed and wiped the blood that got on you on your pants. You were about to go call the cops about the body when someone called out behind you.
"Hey!"
You turned and saw two guys at the other end of the ally right as one of them shot a silver bullet into your shoulder, just missing your chest and heart.
You stumbled and collapsed against the wall, grabbing your shoulder with one hand and reaching for your gun with the other.
"What the fuck?!? Who the fuck are you!?!?" You called out to the guys.
"Shit. She's not a wolf..." The taller one said as they both ran up to you.
"Wolf? As in "Werewolf"?" You asked, still leaning against the wall, a slight strain to your voice from the pain.
How did they know about werewolves?
"Yeah. We're looking for a werewolf..." The shorter one says.
"Wait, so you're hunters?" You asked, confused.
"Yeah, I'm Sam Winchester, and this is my brother Dean. So, are you a hunter too then?" The tall one replied.
"Y-yeah... Did you say Winchester? As in *the* Winchesters?" Your eyes went big.
"Uh, heh, yeah. That's us." Sam chuckled as you stumbled a bit. "Oh, yeah, sorry about shooting you... Here, let me see..." He moved your hand away from the wound and examined it. "Whew, yeah, you're gonna need stitches for that. We can take you back to our bunker and fix you up there if you want."
He reached his hand out to help you stand up from on the wall.
"Thank you." You murmured, accepting his hand. "I'm Y/n, by the way. Y/n Y/l/n."
They helped you back to their 67' Chevy Impala and drove you to the bunker.
Once you got there and they stitched and patched you up, you leaned back in your chair. You glanced at the room around you, which was a library with shelves filled with countless books on legends and lore.
"Y'all have a nice place." You sighed and relaxed your body.
"Thanks." Sam smiled and sat down beside you, turning on the little lamp in the center of the table.
Dean came walking into the room with three beers in hand.
"Want one?" He asked and looked at you. When you gave him a nod he tossed it to you, then tossed another to Sam, before sitting down across from you and opening his own.
You cracked open the bottle and took a nice sip, then sat it back down, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you admired the men before you.
The three of you had sat there and talked for a while and drank a few beers, when Dean stretched.
"I think I'm gonna call it a night. See y'all later." Dean said though a yawn as he gathered all the empty beer bottles the three of you had accumulated.
"Kay, g'night Dean." Sam called to his brother.
"Night, Sammy." Dean called back as he walked off to go to his room for the night.
Once Dean was out of earshot, Sam turned to you, a slight smile forming across his face.
"Y'know, I've been thinking, this whole time while we've been sitting here, about how pretty you are." He said, his smile growing.
"Really?" Your face flushed.
"Yeah. And I do kind of have some making up with you to do after I shot you and all..." His face flushed as well. You could tell he was a bit nervous.
Taking the hint that he was trying to flirt, you leaned forward.
"How about you do some making *out* with me instead, and we'll call it even?~" You smirked, making him blush harder.
"Deal." He whispered, smirking back, before scooting closer to connect lips with you.
When his mouth reached yours, you couldn't help but let out a little squeal of excitement, a thin layer of sweat forming on both of your bodies. You scooted out of your chair and into his lap, wrapping your thighs around him. He groaned around your lips as you deepened the kiss, your tongue twirling around his.
"We should probably go somewhere more private." He said, breaking the kiss.
You nodded in agreement, and he grabbed onto your thighs, picking you up as he stood from the chair. You twirled his thick hair around your fingers and nipped at his neck as he carried you back to his room.
The door opened and shut with a creak and left you and Sam alone in the privacy of his bedroom to do as you pleased. You were shaking with excitement and lust as he laid down on the bed with you. You wasted no time finding each other's lips again and you both let out tiny groans of enjoyment as you kissed enthusiastically.
"Take off your clothes." He commanded in a deep and rough tone.
You did as you were told and stripped off your clothing, starting with your blood-stained shirt, until all that was left on you was the patch over your wound.
"You're even prettier than I'd thought you would be." He gawked as he removed his own clothing.
Your eyes went wide at the sight of him. How the hell were you going to take all of that??? He noticed the way you were staring and chuckled.
"Don't worry, I'll be gentle at first until you get used to me."
You nodded and then pulled him back down on the bed and kissed him. It was like he was a drug or something. You just couldn't get enough. Every second that your lips were away from his felt like an eternity-long withdraw.
He moved his hand to his cock to line it up with your soaking wet cunt.
"May I?" He asked, waiting for you to consent to him entering you.
"Please..." You moaned, needing him inside you like a fish needs water.
He slowly pushed his tip in, causing you to let out a loud, uncontrollable moan.
"Do you need me to stop?" He says, worried he hurt you.
"No, please, God no, don't stop." You begged through a moan.
"Okay, let me know if you do need me to stop though, okay?" He said as he pushed in deeper.
"Okay." You said while you moaned and mewled in pleasure as he pushed himself deeper inside of you. You could feel every last bit of him as he eased into your throbbing core.
"Tell me when you're ready for me to move." He said as he bottomed out, his hips against yours.
"Okay, you can move." You said with a deep breath.
He pulled out slowly, until just his tip was inside of you, then he pushed back in, then out, then in, then out, then in.
"Mmm, fuck Sammy, you're gonna kill me. Faster." You whined.
He sped up his movement just slightly, making a subtle difference.
"Mm, no, *faster*. If you don't hurry up and fuck me right, I might explode." You exclaimed, desperation clear in your tone.
"Yes, ma'am." He replied jokingly, pulling his hips away and then pushing back in at a finally decent pace.
"Ahhh, that's more like it." You sighed, moving your hips to meet his with each thrust.
"Yeah... Damn, you feel amazing." He praised, groaning in pleasure.
"Fuck!" You yelped out as he hit your g-spot, sending an extra strong jab of pleasure through your core. "Mm, fuck, right there..." You spread your legs further to give him more room to move inside you.
At this, he sped up, pushing harder into your g-spot with each thrust into you until you were practically screaming.
"Ah, shit, you sound perfect. Keep screaming, baby." He groaned, moving his hands to your hips and pushing even harder to make you scream louder.
"F...f... fu... mm... FUCK, SAMMY. MMMN~" You yelled out as you squeezed around his cock and came so hard your vision went fuzzy.
He kept moving in and out of you, until his rhythm faltered, and his pace sped up for the final pushes into you until he came inside you, digging his fingers into your sides hard enough to leave marks.
"Wow." Was all he could manage to say as he exhaled heavily and rolled over onto his back beside you.
"I agree. Wow." You sighed, still euphoric and half blind with pleasure.
You huffed out with a soft "hmmm~" and scooted in closer to Sam's giant figure that lay next to you on the bed.
"You're good at that." You spoke softly after a moment.
He just smiled in response and chuckled as he laid there with you in his arms.
You were both already about to pass out, when there was a thump at the door.
"Y'all okay in there? I woke up to Y/n screaming." Dean's tired voice could be heard from the other side of the door.
"Yeah, we're good." Sam called and you both let out a little laugh.
"Ohh... alright then." Dean replied as it clicked in his head what types of screams they were. "Well, I'm going back to sleep then. Try to keep it down."
"We won't!" You called to him, fully intending on screaming at the top of your lungs next round.
Sam just laughed, gently kneading one of your breasts in his hand.
"So, I guess that means this is a more than one round type of thing then?"He suggested, smiling at you coyly.
"Mmhmm. I hope you didn't plan on sleeping tonight~" You purred, pulling him back up against you.
"Oh, I don't plan on sleeping for a week if you're gonna keep this up the whole time~" He groaned back, snatching you by the hair into an aggressive kiss before climbing on top of you for round two.
-SP<3
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octoberclidan · 4 months
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Her Boys
Request: hi:) can you do sam x reader x dean where reader lives with them and after hunts she usually falls asleep in the back of impala (sometimes with her head on castiel's lap) so sam and dean takes turns on carrying her to motel bed and giving forehead goodnight kiss (sam's turn in this fic ) and some nights after having nightmares she sneaks out to one of their bed (dean's in this fic)
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader and Sam Winchester x Reader, a bit of Castiel x Reader
Masterlist
Story:
"Dean", Castiel's voice sounded from the back of the Impala. "I think you should turn your music down".
"What? Why?" Dean sounded almost offended by Cas' request. It was late, and they were driving to a motel after a successful hunt. It was dark out and raining, so Dean had turned his music up even louder than usually so it could be heard over the rain hitting the windshield and roof of his car. Sam turned around to look at Cas, and Cas looked down to his lap. Sam nodded and reached forward to turn the music down low, and swatted Dean's hand away when Dean tried to turn it back up.
"She's asleep", Sam whispered to him, and Dean glanced up into the rearview mirror, only finding Cas looking back at him. [Y/N] had a habit of falling asleep in the car after hunts. The boys could run on limited sleep, but she couldn't keep her energy up like them. She was sore from the hunt, having been pushed and thrown around a lot, and after running all over the place for hours, she was exhausted. She'd lasted about fifteen minutes in the car sitting up before she'd given in and leaned over to lie in Cas' lap. He had his hand resting on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it with his thumb, and she had one of her arms wrapped around herself, the other holding on to Cas' thigh.
The Impala was warm, and safe, and familiar. It smelled like a mixture of all three of her favourite people; the Winchesters and Cas. She hadn't even been with them all that long, just under a year, but they were her family, and they were her home. They'd all taken a likening to her from the moment they'd met, and they all had a soft spot for her. Dean thrived on taking care of people, and while Sam and Cas made that difficult for him sometimes, [Y/N] made it easy. She didn't complain when he was slightly overprotective of her on hunts, and she never refused his help when he offered it. She satisfied the nurturing need he had, though he'd never admit it. Sam had been looked out for and taken care of his whole life by Dean, and whenever he tried to return the favour, Dean wouldn't let him. [Y/N] was never embarrassed by Sam looking out for her, she always valued his advice, and the fact that she so openly looked up to him made him feel important. She'd definitely had a warm and positive impact on the team dynamics, and they'd do whatever they could to make her want to stay with them.
The rumble of the car's engine was muffled by having her ear pressed against Cas' lap, but she began to stir when the rain got heavier. Cas quickly pulled his hand off her shoulder and lay it gently on her other ear to block out the noise, and her breathing deepened again. All three of them remained silent for the rest of the drive, and Cas only removed his hand from her ear when the rain stopped.
***
It was awhile later when Dean pulled into a motel that had a vacancy sign lit up, and while he got out to go get a room, Cas and Sam stayed in the car with [Y/N]. He was back a few minutes later with a key card, knocking lightly on the passenger window to let Sam know before opening up the trunk and grabbing their bags. Sam got out of the car and opened up the back door, where Cas carefully helped maneuver [Y/N] into Sam's arms. Sam had one arm under her knees and his other around her back, she fit perfectly into his arms. Her head fell against his shoulder as he straightened up and made sure he had a good grip on her. He looked down at her, she looked so peaceful and innocent, it was hard to think of the girl in his arms as the same person who he'd seen earlier shooting the monster they'd been hunting.
Cas held the door open for the boys as they walked into the motel room, before letting them know that he had a few things to check on in Heaven and would be back in the morning. Dean dropped the bags down onto one of the beds while Sam walked [Y/N] over to bed farthest from the door; the boys liked making sure that she was always in the safest place possible. He lay her down on the bed and brushed her hair out of her face as Dean dug through his bag to find one of his hoodies, one that he knew [Y/N] liked as it was thick and warm, and quite big on her. He walked over to Sam and nodded at him, letting him know he was ready to do something that the two of them had gotten used to doing on nights after hunts. Sam slowly lifted [Y/N] into a sitting position, holding her head against his chest to keep her comfortable. Dean unzipped her jacket and pulled it off her, leaving her t-shirt on. The two of them slid the hoodie onto her, pulling her arms through the sleeves and pulling it down over her. Sam then let her lie back down and smiled in thanks to Dean, letting him know that he could go get himself ready for bed.
While Dean was in the bathroom, Sam untied [Y/N]'s shoes and pulled them off. He then pulled the covers of the bed over her and tucked her in, making sure that none of the cool motel room air would disturb her. He watched as she snuggled into her pillow, smiling in her sleep. Sam wondered what she was dreaming about, and was looking forward to hearing about it in the morning over breakfast. He leaned down and pressed his lips to her forehead, a habit he'd picked up that he found soothed him. Being able to kiss her on the forehead and feel her warmth under his lips reminded him that she was alive, and she was safe, and protected.
***
Several hours passed when [Y/N] began to stir. Her good dream had slowly morphed into a nightmare, and she'd been experiencing a version of the hunt that had not gone as well as it had in reality. She breathed in sharply as her eyes shot open and she sat up, in darkness, momentarily not knowing where she was, until she smelled Dean's scent just under her chin. She grabbed the collar of the material and pulled it up to her nose, the smell instantly calming her. She smiled as she realised it was her favourite hoodie of his, and that the boys must have put her to bed. She turned her head to the side and let her eyes adjust, she could just about make out their silhouettes in the two beds beside hers. She pushed her covers back and let her legs hang over the side of the bed, the coolness of the air making her shiver slightly. She made sure to be quiet as she stood up, not wanting to interrupt their sleep, but she knew that she wouldn't be able to get back to sleep after a nightmare on her own. She needed one of her boys.
Dean's bed was closest to hers, and he'd also left space beside him. She wasn't sure if that was intentional or not, but she took it as an invitation. She looked over to Sam to make sure he was okay, and smiled when he mumbled something in his sleep and then chuckled to himself. She owed a lot to the Winchesters, and to Cas too. They'd never told her that they loved her, and she'd never told them that she loved them either, but she didn't need verbal confirmation. She knew that she was loved, she could feel it in their actions every day. She carefully pulled back the covers on Dean's bed and slid in beside him, turning to face away from him and feel the heat of his body on her back. Only a minute later, she felt Dean's strong arm wrap around her waist and she was pulled against his chest. She felt his nose on the back of her neck as he breathed her in, and she felt his breath tickle her shoulder as he breathed out. There was no chance of her nightmare coming back that night as she drifted off in Dean's arms, knowing that even though she hunted monsters and demons, as long as she had her boys, she would be safe and sound.
The end
Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx
Sam Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @hobby27 @angelwiththeshotgun @pizzagirlxnsfwx
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 25 days
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The Husband Effect
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Summary: The reader is struck with a love curse that leaves her feeling more than a bit attached to Dean...
Pairing: Dean x reader (eventual)
Word Count: 2,200ish
Warnings: language, angst, love curse, fluff
A/N: Y’all don’t even want to know how old this fic is. Pretty sure it was written during S13. Figured it was time for it to see the light of day!
__________
“Y/N. Y/N. Giggling woman,” you heard Dean say, clapping his hands together. “Hey! Focus.”
“She’s cursed Dean,” said Sam with a smile. “It was some harmless witchcraft. It’ll wear off soon I’m sure.”
“Is she currently trying to climb into your lap? No?” said Dean, pointing at where he was continually shoving you back from him. “Y/N, stop it.”
“I wanna sit with you,” you whined, throwing your arms over his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against his.
“This is weird,” said Dean, trying to scoot away, Sam biting back back a laugh. “A little help, Sammy!”
“So she’s a little extra clingy. We’ll put her to bed, she’ll sleep it off and in the morning she can be completely embarrassed about this whole thing,” said Sam.
“Why would I be embarrassed about my Deanie?” you asked, squeezing him harder, Dean rising to his feet.
“Come on, Y/N. Off to bed with you. Now.”
“Good morning,” said Sam to you with a teasing smile. “Sleep well?”
“Like a baby,” you said, giving Dean a big hug when he came in the kitchen. “Good morning!”
“Oh no,” said both boys, grimacing as you smushed yourself into Dean’s chest.
“Get the jaws of life for this one,” said Dean, trying to squirm away while you clung tighter. “Y/N, please let go of me so I can eat breakfast.”
“I’m sorry,” you said releasing him, moving your hand down his arm to hold his hand. “That was silly. Your arms are huge by the way. All muscle and strong. They’re so...mmm.”
“Uh huh,” said Dean, giving Sam a death glare. “Sam, your harmless little curse don’t seem so harmless right now.”
“She should have slept it off,” said Sam, taking a seat at the table, Dean pulling you over into one, resigning himself to the fact he wasn’t getting the hand you were holding back anytime soon. “It must be a different curse.”
“No shit. Figure it out for me, would ya? It’s weird having Y/N act all...cuddly,” said Dean.
“Well, she is a girl, Dean,” said Sam.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” asked Dean, your head resting on his shoulder.
“It means she likes hugs and you know, human affection...like a normal person,” said Sam. “You treat her like a guy sometimes.”
“Again, what does that mean?” asked Dean.
“It means when you tell her to buck up and kill the damn spider herself, she comes and asks me to do it. Or when you don’t help her with heavy stuff. She’s tough, don’t get me wrong, but I get the feeling she doesn’t think you care about her nearly half as much as she does you,” said Sam. “...Maybe that’s why she’s only sticking to you. It’s got something to do with that.”
“Y/N,” said Dean, your head lifting up with a smile. “You know I care about you, right?”
“Of course you silly boy,” you said with a smile, bopping him on the nose. “I love you different than Sammy is all.”
“See? She knows,” said Dean, giving you a smile that made your heart flutter.
“You’re so pretty,” you said, Sam rolling his eyes. 
“Hey, Y/N. Why don’t you eat breakfast and then Dean can spend the whole day with you while I figure out how to fix you, huh?” asked Sam.
“The whole day with Dean? That sounds amazing,” you said, leaning up and giving Dean a kiss on the cheek.
“Please hurry Sam.”
One Week Later
“I want Dean,” you grumbled as Sam brought your dinner by your room. “Please? I need him.”
“Dean’s researching right now, Y/N,” said Sam, locking up the door behind him, spotting your barely eaten lunch. “You need to eat, Y/N or Dean won’t be happy.”
“Why do I have to stay in my room? I’m not doing anything wrong,” you said, Sam sighing as he took a seat.
“You’re making it hard to research out there, Y/N. You...you’re kind of all over Dean,” said Sam. “He’s not used to attention like that and it’s making him uncomfortable.”
“But you love him and you get to be near him,” you said, scrunching up your face. “Tell him I’m sorry. I’ll do whatever he wants. I just want to see him. Please.”
“Sweetie, it’s the curse that’s making you all nuts for Dean, you have-”
“I always liked him and now that I came out and said it he’s scared of me. Tell him I take it back. I’ll really try to be better,” you said. 
“If you eat your dinner, I’ll talk to Dean about coming to see you, alright?” asked Sam, watching as you grabbed your fork. “Good girl.”
“Hi,” you said when you saw your door open, a pair of green eyes peeking in. Everything in you wanted to hop off the bed and run over to give him a hug but you said you’d try to keep it under control.
“Sam said you wanted to see me,” said Dean, hanging by the doorway, watching you start to fidget. “You’re shaking.”
“I’m fine. Are you okay? Can I do anything for you?” you asked, leaning forward and clenching your hands into fists.
“Just give me a hug before you have a heart attack,” said Dean with a sigh, your body responding before your brain, up and over to wrap him up in your arms. “Better?”
“No,” you said. “You don’t like it.”
“I’d rather have a hug because it’s real, not forced,” said Dean, moving your arms away. 
“It is real,” you said, cocking your head up at him. “I want to hug you.”
“No, the curse is making you think you want to hug me,” said Dean with a smile. “There’s a slight difference there, sweetheart.”
“But I love you. Everything I’ve said or done, I always want to do,” you said. “I just...don’t have a filter to say ‘don’t do that anymore.’”
“It’s a curse and we’ll solve it, alright?” said Dean. “I don’t want you to get upset about it. We’ll figure it out and get everything back to normal around here.”
“Dean,” you said, moving forward again, Dean already with a hand on the door.
“I promise, Y/N.”
“I don’t know why it didn’t work but you shouting at me doesn’t fix it!” yelled Sam, both boys in the middle of screaming at one another as you sat in the library, doing your best to stay in your seat.
“It’s been two weeks, Sam. Look at her. She’s barely keeping it together,” said Dean, waving over in your direction.
“If I was under a love curse and the other person resented me, I might start to get upset too, Dean,” said Sam. You got to your feet, forcing them to move away and for your bedroom, your movements slowing as you hit the edge of the library. “See?”
“I’m just going back to my room, Sam,” you said over your shoulder, frozen in place with the need to stay near Dean. 
“It’s got to be that spell. Figure out what you screwed up,” said Dean, his hand on your arm melting away your bubbling anxiety, replacing it with something soft and warm. Dean didn’t immediately leave when he got you back in your room, instead laying down on your bed, turning on your TV and throwing an arm behind his head.
“What are you doing?” you asked, sitting down next to him, curling into his side with a smile.
“I miss you,” he said, moving his arm around your shoulders, a rush of relief flooding you. “...I’ll take care of you. I know it hurts and yeah I’m not used to all this lovey dovey crap but I’m going to help you through it. If letting you crawl all over me makes you feel better, we’ll do that.”
“Hey, bozos,” said Sam, standing at the end of your bed, stirring you awake. “I didn’t mess it up. It’s on a time delay.”
“Well,” said Dean with a yawn. “How long until it works?”
“Judging by the look on Y/N’s face, it already did,” said Sam. You were glancing at your lap, sitting as far away from Dean as possible. “Are you...”
“I want to be alone, please,” you said, Sam nodding his head and leaving. “You too Dean.”
“It’s okay, it was just a curse,” he said, rubbing a hand up and down your back. “Nothing to be embarrassed about.”
“I told you two weeks ago, Dean,” you said, turning your head over your shoulder. “I don’t love you and Sam the same way. It was a love curse, Dean. All I was trying to do this whole damn time was to make you feel loved.“
“I do feel loved,” said Dean.
“You don’t get it. This isn’t something I can explain to you, Dean. Either you get it or you don’t and you obviously don’t so please give me some space today,” you said.
“I get it,” said Dean, grabbing your wrist and spinning you to face him. “It’s been very clear to me since this whole thing started. I don’t want you to want me though.”
“You don’t get to decide that for me. It’s my life,” you said, trying to shake him off. “Dean...”
“It’s different when’s it’s staring you right in the face and you can’t run away, right? To know that deep down that what someone is saying is true?” he asked.
“If you got hit with that curse, what are the odds that everything you’re spewing out is bull and you do want me but are too scared to say it,” you said. Dean was silent, dropping your hands as you nodded your head. “So what do you want to do about this?”
“If you want to...try, I guess I’m cool with that,” said Dean, shrugging like you were discussing dinner.
“Cool with it?” you asked.
“I ain’t turning into a Hallmark card anytime soon,” said Dean, holding up his hands. “But...your hugs aren’t so bad.”
“Ah, yes. Your definitely wooing me, Dean,” you said, shaking your head.
“Y/N, I’m trying,” said Dean.
“I know. We’ll...take it one day at a time.”
One Year Later
“Hey, you guys remember that freaky curse that made Y/N stick to you like glue?” asked Sam at lunch one day. 
“Yeah,” said Dean. “What about it?”
“Well...I translated another spell that references it,” said Sam. “It was used back in the day to help men find wives.”
“That seems like a douche move,” you said, leaning back against the wall, tossing your legs in Dean’s lap.
“No, no. Not like that. It was meant for when a guy loved somebody but was too shy or insecure to say something. If the person didn’t have a reaction, they didn’t feel the same way. If they did, then it sort of proved there was something there,” said Sam.
“It took you a year to find this out?” you asked, Sam shrugging. “Why do I feel like you’re lying Samuel...”
“You know, we never did find out who put such a strangely harmless curse on Y/N either,” said Dean, crossing his arms. “You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you Sammy?”
“Not a clue,” he said with a smile, glancing back at forth. “Weird, right?”
“I’ll get my fiance to kick your ass you ever pull something like that again,” said Dean.
“I’m really good at kicking ass,” you said, Sam shaking his head.
“I got no idea what you guys are talking about,” said Sam, standing up with a stretch. “I think I’m going to go for a second run while I think about who could have ever done this to you two.”
“Want to destroy him later?” asked Dean, wearing a smirk once he was out of earshot.
“Of course. Not too badly though,” you said.
“Just a touch of destruction for our devious Sammy coming right up,” said Dean with a chuckle. “While we’re at it, it’s been a year since our first date tonight.”
“You got something special planned?” you asked.
“Obviously,” he said. “Mess with Sammy first though?”
“You read my mind.”
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skellyagogo · 6 months
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Dean- Uninterrupted
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Summary: You are hell-bent on giving him what he needs the most
Warnings: None just utter fluff
Dean Winchester, the world's hardest working unknown hero laid out stone cold asleep on his stomach. A tiny trail of drool slipped out of his parted lips. His freckled features caught somewhere between old and young. Overworked, overtired. Too stubborn to take a break, and even more unwilling to take care of himself at all. It was as if he was physically unable to put himself first for once.
'Do NOT Disturb Under Penalty of Humiliation! Unless the Bunker is on fire, Sam is dying or Led Zepplin is miraculously going back on tour DO NOT DISTURB!!'
That was what the hand-written sign said that she'd hung on the door before she'd gone to sleep. She marked the bedroom warding against witches, demons, angels, and everything else she could think of while he slept soundly. The door was locked and barricaded which was a feat itself to accomplish and not make a sound while he slumbered.
He needed the rest, his body had been screaming for days to recharge but childhood traumas had taught him to look out for others at the expense of himself. The tremendous amount of guilt flooded him every time he even thought about doing something for himself. He was the eldest, the protector, the one that had the weight of the world thrust upon him with no way of shaking it loose himself.
She decided for him that he was going to come first for once. That his needs would be of utmost importance, the only thing that needed attention. It was crazy the lengths she went to just to accomplish it too, but it'd be worth it in the end. Worth it to see some life in his eyes again, to see the exhausted lines disappear from his face. Maybe he'd even smile and actually mean it instead of the facade he wore, the mask to show that everything was alright despite the lie.
Curled behind him in their shared bed listening to a sleepy 'hmm' rumble in his throat. He'd never admit how much he loved it when she was the big spoon. Dean would never say aloud the safety he felt wrapped up in her arms. It killed him how vulnerable it made him feel yet so loved at the same time. He could only figure that it was how she felt when he held her.  
"Time is it baby?" Dean rasped in his sleepy voice while lacing his fingers through hers.
"Too early to be awake." Kissing his neck, nuzzling her face against his skin squeezing him tight until both were asleep.
Hours later when she'd awoken from her slumber she found herself still curled on her side holding onto Dean but he'd turned around in his sleep. Their limbs tangled together, her head resting on his bicep while his arms locked around her. Nose to nose.  
Dean appeared younger somehow as if the extra sleep had given him bits of his youth back. Sunkissed skin speckled with freckles. Teeny faint laugh lines around his eyes and mouth were the only signs of aging but he was aging like fine wine. Blessed with the chiseled features of a Greek god.  
Her eyes drifted down watching the slowed rise and fall of his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart in his rested state. He slept better when she was beside him, a little fact he let slip early on in their relationship.  
Dean had been slightly tipsy and feeling good after a night out at a local bar while on a hunt. Clumsily reaching for her while softly giggling. Mumbling through an exhausted yawn that felt her warmth while hugging him was better than a blanket straight from the dryer. That hugging her, holding her was the only time in ages that he'd been able to sleep peacefully, without nightmares. 
He'd never say it outloud but the way her fingers wound through his hair, nails scratching at the nape of his neck was a feeling almost better than sex. He couldn't explain how soothing it was. How a touch as soft as hers held the power to bring him to his knees and have him begging for more. 
Dean was unfairly naturally handsome but never more so than in moments like this fast asleep. She was lost in thought envying his long eyelashes she missed his groggy smile. 
"Not nice to stare darlin'." Rumbled out in his raspy morning voice as he blinked awake taking in the sight of her tender smile.
"Can't help myself."  
He pulled her atop him with ease. Hands on her hips, thumbs rubbing circles. Leaning up for greedy lazy kisses knowing it was her kryptonite.
"Gonna tell me bout the door & the sigils?" Quirking high a brow, kissing the tip of her nose. Not a hint of worry or anger just amusement.
"Just saving my ruggedly handsome but overly stubborn man from himself."
"Mhm." Skepticism kicked in as he furrowed his brows. The lines crinkled around his eyes.
"You... you needed sleep, lots of sleep." She avoided his gaze at all costs believing that this might have been the thing to finally cross a line with Dean.
"Okay."  
That was all he said and not what she expected either. He pulled her down on top of his chest, arms wrapped tightly around her back. The sigh he let loose was deep and heavy and unlike any sound, she'd heard from him. Dean tucked the blankets around them & kissed the top of her head. 
"Okay?" Peering at him with a cynical glare. "You're not gonna argue? No fuss, no pouting, stubbornness?"
"Nope." Fluffing his pillow getting comfortable again.
"No excuses to run off and do this and that and the other?"
"Nah uh." Chuckling low and gruff cupping her face. "If you're that worried about me to sleep then I guess I gotta listen."
"Where's my Dean?!"
"Shut up or I'm gonna go work on the car." Daring her through a smirk.
She nuzzled into his neck as comfortably as she could get.
"Love you," he professed quietly while dozing off. She was better than a weighted blanket. 
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apocalypseornaw · 7 months
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Stretch it Out
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Dean Winchester x Reader
When you need help stretching it takes an interesting turn
Warnings: Cursing, NSFW things
One of the many empty rooms in the bunker had been turned into an exercise area of sorts. It'd started off as Sam's brain child for mornings he couldn't go for a run, he'd found a cheap enough treadmill and tossed it in the room. Next came the weight bench, the punching bags and eventually the mats that were used for a mixture from sparring to yoga. It had gotten turned into a pretty decent home gym.
You were alone in the room, Dean had gone on a store run and Sam was in the shower. After the last hunt you'd gotten slammed around pretty good, Cas had healed what he could but turns out even angel mojo couldn't help tight hips. You were trying your best to get them to pop because that was what you desperately needed.
You'd gotten into boxing with Donna and knew what stretches would help, the problem was you needed assistance with it and didn't want to have to drive to Sioux Falls just to get it. You could ask Sam for help but given the position the stretches would put you in, you felt weird asking your best friend to do so and the thought of asking Dean embarrassed you bad enough you'd rather go a few rounds with a rugaru then attempt it.
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You finally gave up about the time you heard Dean's voice echo down the hall "Honey I'm home" you laughed as you slipped your feet into the slides you wore around the bunker and headed for the kitchen where he was unloading groceries "I'm assuming that honey I'm home was for me or else things are really weird between you and Sam"
He stopped mid putting milk in the fridge "Sweetheart" the tone of his voice made you crack up "I'm kidding Dean. I'm kidding" he put the milk in the fridge then turned to face you, eyeing your clothes "What's with the active wear?" You looked down at yourself because you were just wearing high-waisted leggings and an old t-shirt you'd cropped off a bit because it'd been way too long to use any of the weights or punching bag while wearing.
"I was stretching out. My hips still aren't feeling quite up to par" he nodded slowly "Did you get them popped or whatever you said they needed?" You shook your head "I can't get into the positions I need to by myself" "Sam couldn't help?" He asked as you grabbed a bag and started putting its contents away.
You shook your head but didn't further elaborate. The two of you had everything put away within a few minutes. You grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge and started to walk out the kitchen when Dean stopped you "Hey, let me throw on some sweats and I'll help you stretch"
You knew your eyes widened at that because he chuckled "Oh don't think I can help with stuff like that? I'm only good for the punchy stuff?" You shook your head "No Dean it's not that.." he cut you off "Good. Meet me in the gym in five" "Ok" you finally replied knowing arguing was no use.
---------
About the time Dean walked out the kitchen Sam walked in with his hair still wet from the shower "I should throw this damn water at you for not being five minutes faster" Sam was not ignorant to your feelings for his older brother but had guarded your secret for a while. He grinned slightly "And why is that?"
You groaned "Dean's gonna help me stretch out my hips" in that moment Sam very much looked like he may just chew his bottom lip off in an attempt to not laugh in your face at your dismay. "Oh go ahead!" You finally said and he nearly doubled over "Does he know the positioning of those stretches?" You shook your head and that only made him laugh harder.
He finally regained his composure enough to check his watch "I'm gonna go into town to the farmers market. I'll get some of those apples you like and I'll be gone for a couple hours" "Why?" You questioned but he just patted your shoulder on the way by.
"SAMUEL?" You hollered behind him but only heard his laughter in return. Dean walked up behind you and nearly made you scream when he said "What was that about?" You looked over your shoulder at him and smiled slightly "He's going to the farmers market and refused to get me apples" "You know he will" he replied then tapped your hip "C'mon"
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You stood across from Dean nervously chewing on your bottom lip. You both had warmed up enough already so you had no excuse but christ you were freaking out internally. "Ok sweetheart, where do we start?" He asked with a smile that caused your heart to jump "Um Ok. I'm gonna lay down on the mat and I need you to stand over me and I'll bend one knee then fold it over the hip on my opposite side I just need you to apply enough counter pressure"
He raised one eyebrow but nodded nonetheless "Well get into position and I'll do my job" you laid down flat on your back and swallowed hard looking up at him before bending your knee on the left side and tucking it over your right hip. He smirked slightly then leaned over "Just apply pressure until i say stop. I can handle it" he nodded "Oh I know"
---------
You tried that stretch on both hips hoping it would work because it was the position that gave the most room between you and Dean even if just from that position alone you were having to stare at the roof to not be staring into those green eyes that made you forget any and all thoughts. You finally rolled up into a seated position, Dean was sitting across from you on his knees "What now?"
You could feel your cheeks threaten to warm as you damn near stuttered "H-How much do you want to help me?" He watched you for a moment "I want to make sure you're not hurting. Now what do I need to do?" You nodded slowly "Im gonna lay back, I need you to kneel between my legs and put one of my legs on your shoulder then just push it down towards my shoulder applying even pressure until either it loosens up or I say stop"
He motioned towards the mat "Let's do it" good lord could he have picked a worse way to say it? You laid down and when he moved closer you felt your face begin to warm so you bit down on the inside of your cheek as a distraction In hopes it would get get your mind off the position at hand.
However nothing on earth could have distracted from from him gripping your hips firmly to pull you down the mat closer to him, spreading your legs slightly. A small gasp escaped you when your hips bumped into his then he turned just enough to gently grab your left leg and lift it onto his shoulder "Like this sweetheart?"
You knew your voice wouldn't work at the moment so you just nodded.
---------
There was a mantra going through Dean's head which consisted of three words....don't get hard. Damn why hadn't he just stayed in his jeans? That would've offered a thicker layer between your bodies but he hadn't realized how close the stretching required you to be besides the denim probably would've been uncomfortable to you considering you were just wearing thin leggings.
The first stretch hadn't been that bad but he noticed how you wouldn't meet his eyes while he was standing over you. Sam's words from a few days before when he'd been certain you were flirting with the bartender at some backwoods dive the three of you had stopped in ran through his head "Believe me Dean, she could give a damn less about that guy"
Then when you stuttered asking him to do this current position? Maybe he did have a chance. He had to stop a smirk from slipping onto his face when you gasped lightly from him pulling you closer and pulling your leg up on his shoulder. Not like he hadn't imagined you like this a thousand times before....of course then you weren't dressed or in the gym or just stretching.
When you finally looked up to meet his eyes he smiled "like this sweetheart?" And noticed just how wide your eyes were when you nodded.
----------
Your knee was nearly touching your shoulder when you felt the release in your hip and a moan that completely mortified you escaped your lips at the feeling. Dean froze dead in his tracks, your leg still on his shoulder and cut his eyes at you with one eyebrow raised "What was that?"
You covered your face with your hands "I am so sorry Dean. That just felt so damn good" he gently lowered your left leg and you expected him to walk out the room due to the awkwardness but instead he moved to the right side and lifted your leg onto his shoulder "Look at me and I'll see if i can get you to moan again from this side" he teased.
You slowly lowered your hands and he winked at you "Attagirl. We're both adults here no shame in something feeling good besides maybe it boosts my ego knowing you moaned like that and I was technically the cause of it...I mean I've heard some of your excuses for dates in the past..."
"Shut up Dean!" You laughed but he started to push your leg towards your shoulder and damn him he'd been paying attention to the last leg and knew just what angle to use because you quickly felt the release in that side and the fucking moan you let slip out was borderline pornagraphic.
----------
He spoke your name gently and you looked up at him. He was watching you carefully "You good?" You smiled "I'm great" you shifted your hips as much as you could considering one of them was still on his shoulder but froze when you felt something against your inner thigh "Um Dean?"
"Huh?" He asked then must have realized his body had reacted. "Oh fuck darling. I am so damn sorry" he put your leg down quickly and went to stand up but you grabbed his hand "Wait" he wouldn't meet your eyes "I'm sorry sweetheart. It's just you're a beautiful woman, the position we were in...." he groaned lightly before adding "and the noises you were making under me"
"Dean" you tried again and when he finally met your eyes you reached for his shoulders and pulled him into a kiss.
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The kiss took Dean off guard. He'd expected you to be pissed at him, hell possibly swing but the shock quickly wore off as he shifted around to push your back down against the mat. You hooked one of your legs around his waist pulling him down with you. He groaned into the kiss when you rolled your hips up to meet his.
He broke away from the kiss to look at you. You were laying under him, eyes wide and pupils blown. Your chest was heaving just slightly and a smile was playing at your lips "Sweetheart what are we doing here?" You raised an eyebrow and glanced down at where your bodies were pressed against each other, thin layers of clothing the only thing separating you "I thought it was kind of clear Dean"
---------
He laughed lightly then leaned down again catching your lips with his once more. He felt your hands slip under his shirt, an unspoken request for more access to him. He pulled back just enough to slip the shirt over his head and throw it somewhere behind him. He smiled when he saw your hands go towards the hem of your shirt and covered them with his own. He glanced up at you for permission and you nodded so he slipped the shirt over your head and tossed it leaving you in just your leggings and sports bra.
"Come here" you whispered pulling him back down to you. He moved from your lips down to your neck biting and sucking the skin, enjoying what sounds he could pull from you. When he kissed down your chest he felt your breathing speed up as he nipped at your breast through the cloth still covering it. "Fuck Dean" you moaned and he could've came then and there from hearing his name come out of you like that. "Let me enjoy this" he teased before pulling the bra off of you.
--------
The moment your chest was completely bared to him Dean leaned down flicking one of your nipples into his mouth with his tongue while his hand worked the other. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, the pleasure you were feeling when he'd barely touched you was dizzying.
He moved from your chest, kissing down your stomach and stopping just shy of the top of your leggings. He glanced up at you through his long lashes and you felt a rush of heat go straight to your core "Can I?" You nodded, lifting your hips to help him get the leggings off.
"Damn baby you're already soaked" he cooed slipping one finger inside of you causing a light gasp to slip free of your lips. He smiled wickedly then added another finger, basking in the way you moaned his name "I wanna see what you look like when you come" he spoke curling his fingers inside of you until he found that spot that made your eyes roll back. When your back arched up off the mat he chuckled "There it is"
He crashed his lips against yours in a rough kiss while he worked you over that edge, feeling you tighten around his fingers. You could feel the tension building in your lower stomach and barely got out the words "Dean I'm gonna.." before it snapped pushing you over that edge and causing your vision to go soft around the edges.
"Soo damn sexy" he whispered moving back down your body. You'd barely had any time to recover before his head was moving between your legs, you felt the first tentative lick and moaned his name loudly which spurred his actions one.
The way his mouth felt on your body had every damn nerve ending on fire. You could feel that tension building again already. You'd never come this close together but the moment his lips locked around your clit sucking roughly you were pushed over that edge yet again. He stayed working you over until you pushed at his shoulders weakly "Too much. Too much"
-----------
He rocked back on his heels, wiping a thumb across his lower lip before sucking on it "Fuck you taste as good as you look" you smiled lazily "Normally I'd love to return the favor and I promise to next time but please will you take off your pants and fuck me?"
"Next time huh?" He asked as he pushed his pants down his hips along with his boxers then kicked them off. You'd always figured Dean was well endowed. Awkward moments with hotel showers had happened but damn he was big and thick. You licked your lips and he grinned running a hand across his cock "Like what ya see sweetheart?"
You rolled your eyes "Would like it better if it was inside me" He smirked "Well who am I to keep a lady waiting" he gripped your hips, snatching you closer to him much the way he had earlier. You could feel the head of his cock teasing your opening and could feel yourself clenching around air in anticipation "Are you sure?" He asked and you nearly whined in frustration "Please?"
He nodded as he pushed into you causing a moan to be pulled from you both once he was fully sheathed he held still to let you adjust to him. He caught your lips in a passionate kiss, tongue flicking against yours allowing you to taste yourself on him. Once the pain of the stretch faded to pressure you moved your hips against his to let him know he could move.
He started to roll his hips into yours causing your back to arch up off the mat with every movement "Fuck Dean, you feel so fucking good" you praised and that seemed to spur his movements. He changed his angle just slightly and when the head of his cock rubbed across that certain spot you could vaguely register your nails digging into his shoulders "Right there baby, please don't stop"
"Wasn't planning on it" he teased. It felt amazing but you knew you both needed a little more "You can fuck me harder Dean. I won't break" you moaned and he leaned his forehead over in the crook of your neck as his thrusts got somehow even deeper and harder. You could feel that tension building again and knew he could feel you clenching harder around him "Go ahead sweetheart. Come for me" He spoke into your skin, one hand slipping between you to rub tight circles onto your clit. You came for the third time with a scream of his name on your lips.
Once you came down from the high slightly you could feel his thrusts begin to falter. You turned your attention to him fully, kissing across his jaw and down his neck as you said "Let me feel you come Dean, please. Fill me up baby" his jaw clenched tightly at your words as his thrusts sped up chasing his own release.
He buried himself inside you with one final thrust and the feeling of him coming inside of you managed to push you over that edge for the fourth time.
He collapsed on top of you, supporting most of his body weight on your lower half so you could breath. "God damn sweetheart. I'm so fucking glad Sam didn't help you stretch" You popped his shoulder "Don't be an ass Dean"
After a moment of you both simply catching your breath he leaned up to be able to look at your face "On a serious note I don't want this to be a one time thing and not just this...I um want us to try to this I mean if you want" you laughed lightly causing him to groan considering he was still inside of you "Are you asking me to be your girlfriend after nearly fucking me stupid in the bunkers home gym?"
He nodded "Yeah?" You pulled him into a kiss before saying "On the condition that you help me make it to the shower before Sam gets back because my legs have no feeling in them after coming that much" you could see the moment the smug smirk began to pull at his face "Oh really?" You rolled your eyes and started to say something back but he chose then to pull out of you which caused another gasp to leave you.
"I can manage to help my girl shower" he added with a wink.
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"How's your hips feel?" Dean asked after you both had showered and you were laying in his bed with his arms around you. You laughed "They feel absolutely amazing"
He leaned down to kiss you but right before your lips touched you heard Sam holler "IN THE GYM? REALLY. YOU TWO ARE ANIMALS!"
Dean smirked at you "Any complaints?" "None at all" you replied pulling him into you for the kiss.
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Text
In Another Life
Pairing: Dean Winchester x f!reader, Dean POV
Summary: When Dean wakes up in another life with you, he begins to question your friendship and realizes that he has loved you all along. But how can he change that? (I’m so bad at summaries please forgive me!)
Tropes: Angst, Fluff, Pregnancy Fluff, Mutual Pining
Word Count: 5.5K (I have an addiction don't judge me)
Warnings: I don’t think there’s any. I’ll say mention of gore, but for one second. Maybe one allusion to sex, but not really.  Some swearing (once or twice). Dean might be a little bit OOC.
Note: This is told from Dean’s perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. This is my first time writing for Supernatural, so please be gentle. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!
Internal monologue is in italics
*********************************************
Dean couldn’t remember what happened last night only that the bed beneath him felt like an old friend welcoming him home. The night before ghosted across his mind, hovering just out of reach, memories of a dream barely forming from a fog of uncertainty. He fades in and out of sleep in a mist that soothes his aching body.
“Dean?” A soft voice whispers.
Dean groans and squeezes his pillow tighter against his chest to avoid waking up. He didn’t care what time it was, all he knew was that he didn’t want to get out of bed.
“Leave me alone Sammy.” He grumbles into the pillow.
“Dean.” The voice says again, this time with a happy laugh that sounds nothing like Sam.
His eyes open,  blinded by the sunlight that streams through the large windows on the other side of the bedroom.
Wait. Where am I?
“Dean we have to get up or we’ll be late for the party.”
Dean looks towards the voice and  realizes that he’s not squeezing a pillow, it’s you. You’re facing him, hair fanning out over the pillow beneath your head, eyes wide and crinkled around the edges, smiling at him.
“Y/n?” Dean says it hesitantly, arms tightening around your waist.
“No no no. Don’t look at me like that. I will not be roped into staying in bed. We can’t be late for your mom’s birthday party and you promised you would come with me to pick up the cake.”
“But-“ Dean couldn’t remember how he got here, only that something feels wrong.
“No buts.” You giggle, before leaning forward and kissing him.
Dean freezes, confused, but the soft movement of your mouth against his erases any uncertainty. He eases his face forward nudging his nose into yours to deepen the kiss. Dean doesn’t know how he got here, but all he knows is how natural it feels to be here with you. Before he can stop himself he rolls you over your back, bringing a moan from you that vibrates though his skull. His fingertips blaze a trail along your hips.
“Easy there tiger.” You smile up at him. “You don’t want to crush Zeppelin.”
Dean’s confusion makes you laugh, before he finally looks down between you. “You’re pregnant.” He whispers, noting the protrusion of your abdomen.
“I mean I think so.” You laugh in a way that makes his heart jump and buckle.
Dean lays his hand down on the smooth skin where your shirt pushes up. Why can’t I remember this? He thinks to himself confused, searching for memories he can’t recall.
“I believe we’ve talked about it several times. And it was you who decided to stay up until 4 am painting the nursery.” Your hands gently brush his hair back out of his face. “You did such a good job baby.”
Dean reaches for the memory, but he can’t seem to
 grasp it. “I did?”
“Mhmm. Look at you, you’re still covered in paint.” You smile wider picking up the hand that rests on your belly to show him the splashes of cream colored paint flecked along the back of his hand. And as you do he notices the ring on your left hand.
“Are we married?” Dean tries again to grasp for his memory but comes up empty handed. He strokes his thumb along the back of yours examining the ring.
I should remember that. How could I forget that we’re married?
“Feigning amnesia will not make me stay in bed with you. No matter how cute you are.”  You gently lay your hand against his chest pushing him back so you can sit up in bed.
Dean can’t help but notice how beautiful and carefree you look. Hair catching fire in the light from the window, t-shirt brushing against the top of your thighs, and how you smile at him with so much love it makes something catch in his chest.
“Dean?” You suddenly look worried. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “I’m just tired I guess.”
His cell phone rings where it sits on the nightstand, drawing his gaze to the alarm clock and car magazine that sit on top of the dark wood.
“You better answer that. It’s probably Sam asking us where we are.” You kiss him on the cheek, before standing up and walking into the closet on the edge of the bedroom.
Dean watches you go, his eyes tracing your familiar figure as you leave the room, before reaching for his phone.
“Hey where are you guys? Jessica’s freaking out because you haven’t brought the cake.” Sam’s  voice triggers another memory for Dean, but this one remains allusive.
“Sam?”
“Dean.”
“Um.”
“Dean are you hungover or something?”
“No. Sorry, just running a little late-“ Dean apologizes looking around the bedroom. It’s small, filled with light from the open window that shows a quaint backyard. The dresser on the wall opposite the bed has photos of him and you, photos of Sam and Jessica, and a photo of Mary and John Winchester. Dean’s eyes stop on the photo as a memory triggers at the back of his mind, but Sam interrupts the thought.
“Well come on. Dad’s not going to like it if you guys miss mom’s birthday-“
“Dad?” Deans memory spikes again and he sees his father sitting in the drivers seat humming along to a song on the radio. Another memory flashes, Dean and his father standing behind the impala with Sam looking into the trunk.
“Yes dad. Your boss. Our father. Dean are you okay? Y/n said that you were painting the nursery last night all by yourself. You could have told me. I would have come over to help-“
“I’m alright Sammy.”
But he doesn’t feel alright, something is definitely wrong.
“Okay well hurry up. I’ll see you when you get here.”
Dean hangs up the phone and sits on the end of the bed with it in his hand.
You walk back into the room wearing a green sundress. Your hair is soft again, falling over your shoulders in a way that makes Dean’s breath catch, effortlessly beautiful.
A memory of you wearing jeans and a leather jacket washes across his mind of you standing with him at the back of the Impala reaching in for a shotgun while he knocks your hand away.
“Dean?” You walk towards him, this time standing between his legs. You place your hands on his shoulders and he can’t help but turn to look at the wedding ring. “Are you sure you’re okay? Because if you’re not feeling well we don’t have to go today. I can call your dad. But I just thought your really wanted to go. You hate missing your mother’s birthday. It’s usually you that drags me out of bed.” You trail your hand against the side of his face with a worried expression, to turn his gaze back on you.
Someone deep in the back of his mind the expression triggers something and he sees a memory of you. Except you’re holding a machete in your right hand that drips blood on the floor but, the look of worry in your eyes the same.
Where could that be from?
“I don’t know.”
“Hey.” You whisper, sitting down in his lap and his arms can’t help but secure you there, burying his head in your shoulder like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I’m scared too.”
“What?” Dean raises his head from your shoulder
“We’ve talked about this. You’re going to be a great dad. And honestly we probably won’t know what we’re doing, but that’s how everyone starts.” Your fingertips drag through his hair in a soothing motion.
Dean tries again to grasp at earlier memories of this life, early memories of you, but all he sees are motel rooms. Motel rooms where you sleep on a pullout couch in a corner and where Sam sits  at a small table shuffling through endless books and papers.
Why?
Dean can’t understand, because that life seems so different than this one. This one where you look softer and happier, where you share a bed and are married. He thinks about the other memories, where your smile is not as bright, where there’s a hardness to your face, but still just as beautiful. Another memory of him and you sitting in a bar drinking beer, another of you laughing at something he said and hitting him, and finally one of you reading in bed while Dean sits at a motel table and watches you softly turn the pages.
Deep down Dean knows in his bones that in those memories  you and him are just friends, but he allows himself to indulge in your touch, enjoying the comfort that comes with being with you.
“It’s not about the baby.” Dean sighs. “I just can’t remember how we got here.”
“Here?”
“Married.” His arms tighten around your waist not wanting to let go. You’re the only thing he recognizes in all of this.
“Um well, my car broke down and I brought it to a mechanic shop where I met a devilishly handsome man with green eyes.” You smile at him. “Who refused to let me leave until he bought me dinner.”
Dean stares at you.
“Practically kidnapped me. But you were so charming I couldn’t resist.” You lean closer to whisper in his ear. “Not to mention sexy covered in grease and wearing a meatloaf t-shirt.” You kiss him before he can respond, and he loses himself in you. The way you hold him close, the way your fingers work up into his hair to secure him right where he wants to be, and the way you feel in his arms wipes away any uncertainty. “As much as I’d like to go back to bed with you, we’re going to be late.” You whisper against his lips.
And Dean allows himself to be dragged away.
*********************************************
“Did you remember to order the parts for that ‘76 Camaro right?” John Winchester asks Dean, but Dean’s not focused, he can’t focus on anything.
The drive over to his parents house was different. Instead of sitting on the opposite side of the front seat of the impala, you had sat in the middle, holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder, humming softly.
It made driving for Dean especially difficult. The memories of you in his car that came across his mind while he drove distracted him.
You  in the backseat shouting something at Dean while he completely ignored you rolling his eyes, you sitting in the front seat with a map trying to direct him while Sam slept in the back, you singing to “The Eye of the Tiger” with him while Sam tried to close his ears, and finally you asleep in the front seat with Dean’s jacket draped over you.  That last one stayed in his mind. He liked how you looked wrapped up in his jacket, breath fogging the glass window, while Dean tried his best to drive smooth and slow so you wouldn't wake.
But you in the front seat holding his hand and leaning against his shoulder while humming along to the music blew all of those memories out of the water. All Dean wanted to do was exist there and then.
When you both arrived at his parents home Dean tried not to be disappointed. Now he was too distracted watching you talk and laugh with Jessica and his mother across the room to listen to anything his father said.
“Dean are you listening?” His dad tries again.
“Huh?” The cold beer in Dean’s hand drips condensation against his skin. He turns to look back at his father.
Another memory of him momentarily distracts Dean, this one of John leaving Dean and Sam in a motel room so he can go hunting.
Did we ever go hunting? Dean tries to think of a time where they went out into the woods to shoot some deer, but comes up empty handed. A few memories of him and Sam toting guns rise to the surface, but he can't remember why they had them.
"You'll have to excuse Dean, he's still mentally painting the nursery." Sam snorts into his beer.
"Shut up."
"Don't tease him Sam. I'm sure that Jessica will have you turn your office into a nursery before you know it." You appear on Dean's left, raising his arm around you so you can lean into his side. Dean automatically tightens his arm around your shoulders.
"Don't joke about that y/n."
"Uh-huh. You can't hide in that big fancy law firm forever. She'll find you." You smile up at Dean in a way that makes his heart feel like its stopped beating.
Why can't I remember any of this life?
"She's right." Jessica comes over to kiss Sam on the cheek.
"I do not hide at the firm-" Sam rolls his eyes.
"You do."
Mary Winchester comes over. "Are you fighting at my birthday party?"
Dean's father puts his arm around his mother, pulling her into his chest with a smile he hides by taking a swig of beer.
"No mom, we're not-"
"Sounded like a fight to me." You whisper to Dean, and he can't help but smile at you.
"It's not a fight y/n!"
"Don't yell at my wife Sammy." Dean says before he can stop himself. He thinks about how natural it sounded coming out of his mouth.
His wife. You're his wife. He thinks and presses a kiss to the top of your head that makes you sigh into his chest.
"I'm not yelling at y/n." 
"Sam we're just teasing you." Jessica laughs, placing her hand against his chest. Dean notices the ring on her own finger, and a memory of Jessica rises in the back of his head. Jessica standing in the darkness of an apartment, while Dean holds on to the front of Sam's shirt, her eyes wide and confused.
But it vanishes when you wince in his arms. Dean's eyes are drawn back down to you, worry spiking in his chest.
"I'm okay." You whisper. "Just think Zeppelin is hitting his limit."
"You guys go on home. I think that John has grilled Dean about the garage enough." Mary smiles, before taking a step forward to hug you. Dean is disappointed when you leave his arms, but smiles despite, watching you with his mother.
"Let the little linebacker get some rest." John hugs you.
"Of course. Thank you so much for letting us come. I'm sorry we were late." Dean watches the subtle blush of your cheeks as you apologize.
"I'm sure it's my son's fault." Mary moves to hug Dean.
As soon as she does Dean is overwhelmed by a surge of sadness as another memory of his mother rises in the back of his mind that he can't quite bring into focus.
"Mom?" Dean whispers.
"Hmm?" She looks up at him confused. "We'll see you on Tuesday for dinner. Okay?"
"Okay."
"We love you."
"I love you too mom." But something sticks in his chest when he says it.
“Don’t forget to order the parts.” John says shaking Dean’s hand.
“Sure.”
“Bye Jessica. Let me know if you need us to bring anything for Tuesday.” Dean watches you hug her and just for a moment Dean sees Sam holding a bouquet of flowers at a gravesite.
What is happening?
*********************************************
When Dean pulls the Impala into the driveway of your home something still feels wrong. After saying goodbye to everyone he still can’t shake the feeling that he forgot something. The radio plays "Black Dog" filling the silence as the car idles in front of the house.
“Dean!”
“What?” He turns to look at where you sit beside him in the front seat.
“Feel.” You grab one of his hands from the wheel and place it against your abdomen an excited smile gracing your cheeks. “Little future drummer."
The kicking against the palm of his hand makes Dean smile, leaning forward into where you sit beside him. Happiness breaks in his chest like the crest of a wave. He can't remember a moment in his life where he felt this happy, this much love for someone.
"Y/n?"
"Mhmm."
"I love you." Dean refuses to believe that he has said it to anyone else ever in his life, can't remember wanting to say it to anyone else, can't believe that he will ever want to say it to anyone else.
"I love you too."
He leans down to kiss you, hand still against your stomach, drawing you further into him to breathe you in. Everything else vanishes, just the feel of your soft lips against his, the tickle of your hair against his cheeks, and the pulse of his son's kicks against the palm of his hand.
But then it's all gone.
*********************************************
"Dean!" Sam's voice jars him into reality, his eyes opening to see his brother standing over him, one hand on his shoulder. "Dean are you okay?"
"What happened?" Dean sits up with a groan, ignoring the headache that throbs behind his eyes.
His eyes adjust to the dim light. He's in a long room where wooden tables sit every few feet covered in dust and machinery blanketed with old sheets. The musty smell fills his nose, replacing the smell of your shampoo that lingers under his nose from when you were in the front seat with him.
"Djinn ambushed you. Y/n and I got here as soon as we could."
"Y/n?" The memories of the dream strike him in the chest all over again, merging with memories of reality. "Where is Y/n?"
You enter the room out of breath, blood flecked across your cheeks and holding a baseball bat that drips a dark liquid onto the concrete floor. “It’s dead.”
"You sure?" Sam asks raising an eyebrow.
"There's enough brain matter on the floor in there for a zombie buffet." You shoulder the baseball bat. "So yeah, it's dead."
Dean’s eyes trace your body taking in the leather jacket and dark t-shirt his memory flashing to the green sundress and beautiful smile. You’re half-smiling, but Dean can see the hardness in your face again and understands where it comes from.
She wasn’t a hunter. He thinks of the dream version of you, where your hair fell in soft curls, but now it’s tied back in a ponytail. His eyes drop to your abdomen expecting more, but disappointment flicks in his heart. It wasn’t real.
“Dean are you okay?” You step closer to him. The smile has dropped now, replaced with a worried expression.
He flashes back to when you asked him that in the dream, when you sat on his lap and tangled your hands in his hair, sighing into his mouth as he kissed you.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?”
He traces your face again but every time he does he only sees the other version of you, the version that’s in love with him, married to him. And he knows that here you are just his friend.
“Yeah.” He says again standing up. “Let’s get out of here.”
The ride back to the motel is silent. Dean doesn’t put on any music, too afraid that it’ll remind him of the memory of you and him in the front seat while his son kicked against his hand. Instead, all he can think of was how happy he was in the other life, how in love with you he was-
Dean knew that it wasn’t just a fantasy, that he really is in love with you, but now after seeing how everything could be, it weighed on his chest. Each time you looked at him he wanted to pull you close to him, hug you, kiss you, but he knew you would pull away. Because this version of you was not his.
“I’m going to go to that diner on the corner. You guys want something?” Sam looks around the room expectantly, but Dean doesn’t look up from the carpet.
“Sure.” Dean hears you respond. “Maybe just a burger and a piece of pie. Preferably apple but I'll take cherry if they have it."
“Okay. Dean?” Sam asks again.
Dean shakes his head. He can’t eat. Not now.
Sam hesitates at the door worried. “Are you sure?”
“I don’t want anything.” Dean snaps.
“Yeesh don’t bite my head off.” Sam throws you a shrug before leaving.
Dean is aware that it’s just the two of you now, the memory of the two of you in bed surfaces making him tighten his grip on the edge of the blanket beneath him.
“Dean?” You whisper.
“What?” His voice comes out harsher than he means it to.
“What’s wrong? You can tell me.”
“Nothing is wrong.” But he can’t look at you, not when he knows he'll look up and you won't be pregnant and not when the other version of you still has a hold of his heart.
“Dean you’re my best friend I know when something’s wrong. Plus you haven’t been able to look at me since you woke up and you never say no to food.”
“I’m fine.”
“Dean-“
“Just leave me alone damnit!” He snaps at you, able to raise his gaze from the floor for one second. Dean immediately feels bad, watching the pain in your eyes as he pushes you away. But he lowers his eyes to the carpet once more to avoid your gaze.
You sigh, but don’t get angry with him. “If you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I'll just leave you alone then.”
And as soon as you leave to take a shower he feels the loss of you beside him.
He listens to the sound of the shower, feels the passing of time, but he does not move. The memories of the dream rise and fall, replacing the darkness of the hotel room with brilliant light. The memory of the sun catching your hair on fire as you laid next to him in bed tracing your fingertips along his jaw, the memory of you in the front seat of the Impala leaning against him and humming while you hold his hand, the memory of the party where he wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you tightly into his chest, and finally the memory of the last kiss you shared in the front seat of the Impala each dance across his mind. He acutely feels the loss of your body against his, the loss of your lips, and finally the sound of your voice telling him you love him while his son kicked against his hand.
“Dean?”
He looks up at you. You look softer than you did. The blood is gone from your cheeks, your hair falls over your shoulders still wet from the shower, effortlessly beautiful, he decides. You’re wearing one of his old t-shirts that he gave you and a pair of sweatpants. It does something to him, watching you stand there in his shirt. It hangs past your waist like a dress, making you look smaller than you are. The smell of your shampoo wafts out of the bathroom, something familiar that makes his throat tight.
“You know when that Djinn got me a few months ago it threw me for a loop too.” You say softly leaning against the doorway of the bathroom. “Everything felt so real. It was hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t.”
Dean remembers when that happened. When you vanished out of the blue while checking out a case alone and he and Sam tore apart the small town looking for you. Dean remembers how worried he was, how desperate he was to find you.
I loved her then too. Dean realizes looking at you. How did I not know?
Dean remembers the aftermath, when you woke up and wouldn’t look at him. How your gaze was almost haunted and how he had to carry you out of there because you couldn’t move. He remembers you laying in bed and turning away from him and Sam when they had asked you what was wrong and the following day when you acted like nothing happened.
“What did it make you see?” Dean whispers, noting the way you shift back and forth on your feet. He hadn't seen you nervous before, seen you face down demons and vampires without batting an eye, but now you looked vulnerable.
You look down at your feet.  “If I say it you can’t laugh.”
“I won’t.”
“Dean, I’m serious.”
“I promise I won’t laugh.” He watches the tension in your shoulders.
Why would she be afraid to tell me? We talk about everything.
“It was us.”
“What?” Shock tugs at his heart and for a second he thinks that he heard you wrong.
“It was us. We were married. We had 2 kids. My brother was still alive and my parents were talking to me again. I was happy there. It was hard to come back. Not that I’m not happy, but just that it’s hard to think you’ve lived a life that doesn’t exist. Especially one so different than all of this.” Dean watches you take in a deep breath, tapping your finger against your bicep, avoiding his eyes. “That was when I realized I was in love with you.” 
Dean’s heart stops beating. “What did you just say-“
You look up and smile tightly. “It’s when I realized I was in love with you. That’s why I was so messed up. I didn't know how to-“
Sam chooses that exact moment to walk in loaded with bags of food. “What did I miss?”
“Nothing much.” Dean watches you easily shift your expression to hide what just happened, smiling at Sam as if you hadn’t said the one thing that Dean had been trying to say to you since he woke up. “Just trying to convince Dean to let me work on Baby. I think I’m wearing him down.”
Dean had never realized how much of a good liar you were until this moment, sure he had seen you pretend to be a government agent, but this was different.
“Like that’ll happen.” Sam hands you a bag of food before turning to look at Dean. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” Dean watches you pull out the burger, stunned by your confession.
You place the burger next to him on the bed. “Eat this. It’ll help.”
“But-“ He looks up at you, wanting to finish the conversation.
“I promise I’m not that hungry Dean. I’d rather have the pie. Unless you’re going to fight me for it?” You smile raising an eyebrow.
Dean doesn’t understand why you’re acting like you didn’t just say you were in love with him. He gazes at you, searching your face. For a second he sees the mask slip, but before he can comment it’s gone.
“No I won’t.” He whispers.
“Good.” You turn to the made-up pull out couch and fold your legs underneath you with the slice of pie balanced on your knee, before reaching into your bag for a worn paper back.
Dean sits there watching you turn the pages. She loves me. The memory of you in his dream in the front seat of the Impala whispering it to him doesn’t hold the same weight because now all he can hear is you saying it here, now.
Dean can’t move. He wished Sam would leave again. He wished Sam would leave so he could bring you into his chest and kiss you, so he could tell you the one thing he wished he said ages ago.
But he doesn't. All he does is sit there and watch you read.
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A few hours after Sam and you have fallen asleep Dean lays in his bed and stares up at the ceiling. He can hear your soft breaths against the pillow, the crinkle of the sheets as you move in your sleep. Usually he allowed himself to fall asleep listening to you, but tonight all it did was keep him awake. Each time he shut his eyes he saw the memory of you in bed with him burning against his eyelids and each time he shut his eyes he heard the real you telling him that you loved him.
Finally, he can't take it anymore.
Dean gets up and makes his way over to the pull-out couch, pausing once to move the paperback book out from under your head. It wasn't the first time that you'd fallen asleep reading, and Dean thought it was cute.
He slides into the bed behind you, gently touching your shoulder to wake you as quietly as possible.
"Hmm." You inhale softly.
"Y/n." Dean whispers.
He watches you turn towards him, eyes blinking in the darkness to rouse yourself from sleep. You hair is flared out over the pillows, eyes hazy. “Dean what are you-“
Dean moves his arm to your waist before pulling you flush into his chest, lips finding yours. The memories of the kiss in his dream are everywhere, but none of them compare to this. You sigh into his mouth, bringing your hands into his hair. Dean breathes you in. You still taste like apple pie, body soft against his, lips smooth and welcoming.
“I love you too.” He whispers against your mouth, eyes finding yours in the darkness of the hotel room.
Your smile breaks him. “It made you see us didn’t it?”
“How did you know?”
“The way you looked when you came out. The way you looked at me. I think it’s the same way I looked at you when I woke up." You brush back his hair and Dean can't help but lean forward into your touch. "What did it make you see?"
“We were married. You were pregnant and I was working at a garage. My parents were alive. Jessica was alive-“
“Oh Dean.” You cup his cheeks with a sorrowful expression, before brushing your lips against his. “I’m sorry.”
“It doesn’t matter now.” Dean brings you into his chest, laying on his back so you can rest your head on his heart. His hand slowly traces up and down your spine. You both lie there for a few moments. The subtle beat of your heart soothing the sadness that rises with the memory of his mother and father. Your hand gently rests against his shirt, fingers curling into the soft fabric.
“I missed you.” He hears you whisper into his chest.
“What?” Dean doesn't understand. "Where did I go?"
“Not like that. I know that it sounds stupid, but we were so happy in the dream. It made me miss you, miss this.” He feels you rub your face into the front of his shirt.
“Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Dean you’re my best friend. I didn’t want to lose any of this.” You prop yourself up look him in the eye. “I’m happy here with you and Sam. Y’all are my family and I didn’t want to jeopardize that just because I’m in love with you.”
“Did you think I would have made you leave if you told me that?” Dean can’t help but feel hurt. Sure it would have been awkward for a little bit, but I’d never do that to y/n.
“Not made me leave, more phase me out. It would have made all of this awkward and-“ He watches the weight settle on your shoulders as you press your forehead into the space between his collar bone and neck. “I’ve lost so many things. I didn’t want to lose you.”
Dean squeezes you to him. “You’re not going to lose me sweetheart.” He traces a fingertip under your chin to raise your face to his. “I love you. And even if I didn’t, you’re my family too. I wouldn’t make you leave just because it was a little awkward. We’ve all been through too much together for that.” Dean’s thumb rubs soft circles against your cheek.
“I love you too.” You whisper, the soft smile gracing your lips  mirrors the memory from the dream, but this time it fills him with warmth and comfort, because this time he knows it’s real.  It's not some Djinn messing with his head, it's you. You lean upwards to kiss him gently, while Dean weaves his hand through you hair to secure you to him.
But then you pull away, your smile slipping into a smirk. “So when you say family, are you saying you see me as a sister or a cousin? Because, I don’t know how things are in Kansas, but where I'm from, that's kind of a red flag.“
Dean sighs loudly. Before he rolls you over and pins you to the bed, pressing his lips against yours in a searing kiss.
“Oh. So as a sister-“ You joke.
“You are one of the most annoying people on the planet.”
“I know. It’s why you love me.” You trace his lips with your index finger, gazing up at him the same way the dream version of you did.
Dean feels warmth trail behind your touch. “One of the reasons at least.”
But just as he leans to kiss you again-
“If you guys don’t shut up I’m not going to get any sleep.” Sam grumbles from his bed. “I could have told you two idiots, that you loved one another and it would have taken five seconds.”
“You don’t have to eavesdrop-“ You say glaring over in the direction of Sam’s bed.
“Kinda hard not to when you guys are making out. LOUDLY. I might add.”
“Gonna have to get used to it Sammy.” Dean snorts, before pushing your hair back behind your ear and drawing your gaze back to his face.
“Next time you guys are getting your own room.” Sam continues. “That way I can get some sleep.”
“Doesn’t seem very economical.” You say, but you’re gazing up at Dean again with the smile that makes him feel like he’d swallowed the sun. “I love you.” Your voice is barely a whisper.
“I love you too.” Dean leans down once more to capture your lips against his, erasing all semblance of everything else, except the feel of your body beneath him and the warmth that surges with each breath as the dream of you becomes a reality.
*********************************************
Thank you so much for reading!
735 notes · View notes
i4butcher · 1 month
Text
Dream Of Me
Sam Winchester x F!Reader
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i was going to do this fic much, much longer, it would have a whole plot and all but i am so exhausted i wasn't feeling it so have this short horny ass one-shot because i was ovulating while writing this lol
Summary: You quite literally got into Sam's head
Warnings: SMUTish, m. masturbation, use of y/n, descriptions of nudity, *almost* cunnilingus (read it so you will understand lmao), kissing, nipple sucking, marking (?), english is not my first language
You can learn how to change "Y/N" for your actual name here
Read it on AO3
Read Part Two
WC: 2.3k
enjoy!
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Sam kissed you deeply, his lips dragging against yours eagerly. His big hands grabbed at your hips, blunt nails digging into your skin through your clothes. His tongue sinfully entered your mouth, exploring the warmth and groaning at your taste.
Your hands wrapped themselves behind his neck, fingers brushing through his long locks, lightly tugging at each lap of his tongue through your lips. He slowly walked you back, your knees hitting the edge of the mattress and Sam gently held your upper back to place you softly over the covers, mouths never leaving each other. His long hair tickled your cheeks, his nose bumped into yours. His desire was almost palpable as his kisses became more and more desperate, his hands clawing at your back as one of his knees supported his weight between your thighs. His long torso angled itself in an arch to keep his assault on your mouth.
When he finally pulls away, a whine escapes your throat, your raw lips begging for more as your eyes watch his flushed face. He panted above you as he straightened up, his arms crossing to grab at the hem of his shirt and pull it off, the collar of the clothing lifting his hair and then making it bounce back in place perfectly, a stupid grin on his face – a sinful, I know you like what you see grin – as he catches your beautiful eyes analyzing every bit of exposed skin.
He places both his hands on each side of your head, his hair framing his face, a little curtain to hide the absolutely hungry look on his eyes.
“Like what you see, pretty girl?” He questions and you nod in affirmation. He dips down again to attack your neck with open mouthed kisses and bites, making you whine and mewl on his ears and your hands reach for his back, your nails digging into the flesh. His hands drag down your front, bumping against your hard nipples and going low enough so that he can drag your shirt up, his obnoxiously long fingers brushing against your hot skin and throwing even more wood in the fire that was in your belly.
He pulls away momentarily and you lift your arms above your head so that he can take the shirt off for you, the clothing blocking the stunning view of an aroused Sam Winchester for a few seconds as it goes through your head. When he finally throws the shirt away on the ground he practically pouts when he sees the bra covering your breasts and sensually – slowly – trails his hands to your back, leaving yet another mind blowing kiss on your lips, humming, fucking humming in delight, just for being able to do this to you.
He unclasps the undergarment, and you feel him smile against your lips as if he was saying finally I can really see you. As he takes yet another article of clothing off of you he really eyes you down – I mean really. He registers every curve, every scar and every single particle of your skin, his lust-blown eyes eating you alive right then and there, your chest going up and down with deep breaths, your abused mouth half open, your hands splayed beside your head – everything.
He takes a single hand to caress over your skin, starting low at your neck and slowly coming down at the valley of your breasts, down your belly until he’s below your belly button then his other hand joins the action, one on each side of you, dragging up your waist and feeling around your ribs until they finally grab at each boob, squeezing. You groan and grab at both his wrists to keep him there, the little stimulation you got better than anything. He hums above you, his head dipping down to leave feather-light kisses over your collarbones.
“So pretty” He murmurs against your skin “So, so beautiful for me Y/N”
You sigh as he massages your breasts, his mouth dragging down to one of your nipples, wrapping around it and hollowing his cheeks, sucking on your skin and circling his tongue around your tit. You arch your back, a low moan rippling through your throat as you roll your hips, trying to find any kind of friction for the ache between your thighs.
“Sam…” You plead, grabbing at his hair to tug. He groans at your action, biting lightly on your nipple and you shriek. He lifts his head up, chuckling lowly, evil even, a smug smirk on his face, his dimples making him look even prettier above you. He lets your breasts go and smashes his mouth to yours again, swallowing your complaints.
His hands hold you at your belt loop and he bumps his crotch against yours and oh my god. You let out a cry, breaking the connection, and hide your head in his shoulder, your mouth kissing below his ear lobe as you whisper to him:
“Please, please, please, do something, Sam” You beg and he hushes you, one of his hands going towards your lower back to hug your naked tummy against his defined body. He squeezes your skin, wanting to mold into you and turn you inside out.
“Shh, beautiful, I’m gonna take care of you” He says, kissing your neck and unbuttoning your tight jeans with one hand. Excitement runs through his veins, his mouth still marking your skin.
His hand finally manages to unzip your pants and he flattens his palm against your lower belly to drag his fingers below the waistband of your panties. He swipes one teasing middle finger between your folds making you buck against his hand and let out a cry of desperation. He brings his finger out, making you groan in complaint until he lifts his head up, grabs your chin and makes you stare at him in the eyes.
When he’s sure you’re looking, he inserts his slick soaked finger into his mouth and sucks on it, pleasurable noises coming out of his throat as he savors your taste on his tongue, his eyes closing in bliss. The sight is beyond unholy, the action making your cunt clench into nothing, your glossy eyes couldn’t look away and Sam was taking advantage of that. Nothing you’ve ever experienced with anyone before made you feel so needy for someone's mouth between your thighs, eating you out with all their want, need, for you, nose deep into your pussy. Sam did that.
He takes his finger out of his mouth with a pop, licking his lips with his tongue and he opens his eyes to look at you and you are, for sure, looking at him, completely hypnotized by his spell. He grins and dips his head close to your ear, his hot breath sending goosebumps all over your body.
“I’m going to eat you out until you’re begging me to stop, until you’re physically unable to take anything anymore” He whispers and bites at your earlobe and jesus fucking christ where did this man get this mouth. You let out a shaky breath at his words, the fantasy making you squeeze your legs together.
“Please, please, please” You beg as Sam starts kissing down your body, open mouthed kisses left and right. His mouth bit and sucked at points he learned made you tingly inside and your hips roll below him. When he gets to the waistband of your pants he hooks two fingers of each hand through it to drag both your underwear and your jeans down your legs. It felt cold for about three seconds until the sight of Sam looking up at your face through his long lashes, eyes filled with lust, burned you from the inside out.
Once you were completely bare under him he left kisses in each of your inner thighs, his calloused hands kneading on the skin. You look down again, his hair brushes your legs, his mouth so close, so, so close that you could feel his breath against your soaked cunt. He couldn’t take his eyes off of you and you felt like the last woman on earth, wondering how this man could be so perfect, inside and outside. He finally starts to approach your folds, his mouth slowly opening to wrap around your clit and…and…
“Sammy wake up!” Sam’s shaken awake by a hand on his arm and takes a deep breath in. He rubs his eyes, trying to adjust to the light that got turned on by whoever disturbed his sleep – his very good and desirable sleep. His blurred vision starts to focus on the figure besides his bed. Dean towers over Sam in his robe, an unfazed look on his face and a cup of coffee in his hand that isn’t holding his arm.
“Dean?” He questions, voice hoarse from sleep, as he sits up on the bed, the covers falling from his chest to pool around his hips, still hiding his legs below it. Dean drops his hand from his upper arm “What time is it?”
“About 10AM” He says “We might’ve found a case, we need your help with research” He affirmed and Sam nodded. Oh my god. You. How was he going to face you? How was he going to be able to concentrate on your explanation of the case to him when he just fantasized about his mouth between your legs eating you – scratch that – almost eating you out? I’m screwed. “Clean up and meet me and Y/N at the library” Dean says finally, snapping him out of his thoughts and giving him a slap on his back, to which Sam groaned in annoyance. He leaves the room soon after, closing the door behind him.
He lets out a shaky breath, his hands supporting his upper body against the mattress. Just now did he notice the blood pulsing between his legs and the way he seemed hotter than usual. He rubbed both hands over his face, get it together, God damn it. He threw his legs off the side of the bed and stood up, making a beeline to the bathroom. He needed a cold shower, an ice bath, drown in the lakes of Alaska, anything to cool his body and his thoughts.
Every time he blinked there you were, his disheveled hair and lust blown pupils looking up at you. It had been some time since he started developing a crush on the huntress, your kind and caring – but at the same time firm and assertive – personality got him hooked pretty quick and your smartness always impressed him. Dean often made fun of you for being sort of a nerd – in his words – but that just made you even more desirable for him. And, of course, you looked incredible. Your killer body and beautiful features made you look amazing even when you were covered in monster guts.
Peeling off his clothes and turning the water to the coldest setting definitely helped. But, his boner was still there. He cursed to himself and hesitantly wrapped a hand around his cock, eyes closing and teeth digging into his lips to hold back any noise. He started rubbing slowly, up and down, visions of you on his head, beneath him, hair messed up by his hands and skin marked by his mouth and teeth. He wondered how your pussy would taste on his tongue, which noises you would make when he finally brought you over that edge just with his mouth. Then with his fingers. Then…
He quickened his movements, his chest going up and down quickly with deep breaths. Sam should feel bad for touching himself to the thought of you, he should feel bad for dreaming of you that way but he just couldn’t. The images of you flashing into his mind were making him feel thoroughly euphoric, his heartbeat could be felt in his ears and he couldn’t stop himself from imagining your cries of pleasure as he pumped into you or the different positions he could put you in. Fucking you against the shower wall or over the map table.
His drenched hair fell besides his face, the cold water running down his head and back as he slightly hunched over. One of his hands supported his weight against the wall while the other grasped tightly at his shaft. He thought about you moaning his name, much like you did in the dream, and how it sounded so sweet yet so arousing. 
His breathing was shallow, his hands were shaking and with a sigh of your name he finally came. He was in bliss, the orgasm hitting him like a truck. He pressed his forearm against the wall in a horizontal position and rested his head over it, his softening dick still in his hand. He opened his eyes, the sound of the water falling to the ground finally being processed by his brain again.
Jesus Christ.
The guilt suddenly hit him and he shook his head, partially in disbelief at what his body and mind made him feel. And do. Even if his body calmed down, his brain still had that dream practically memorized. He sighed, cleaning himself up all over again, the mess he made going down the drain, hiding the evidence. He got out of the shower, toweling his hair and drying his face.
He stood in front of the mirror and looked at his reflection. His cheeks were still flushed but, besides that, nothing could give anything away. He breathed out a chuckle.
“God damn it” He whispered to himself as he proceeded to dry the rest of his body with a different towel than the one he used in his hair, then wrapping that towel around his hips and going back to his room to change into different clothes. Today was going to be a long day.
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A/N: Notes and reblogs encourage me to keep writing, feedback makes those writings better. Thank you for reading, Xoxo
Read Part Two
694 notes · View notes
wraith-posts · 2 months
Text
you're no femme fatale
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pairing: dean winchester x f!reader
CONTENT: use of y/n, dubcon (mission sequence), soft dom!reader, guided masturbation, light degradation (m!receiving), stripping, begging, scratching, hair pulling, handjob, exhibitionism if you squint
word count: 3.3k
a/n: anon request here! enjoy 🖤 honestly felt like i was scraping the bottom of the barrel to keep this interesting LOL hope it's what you wanted
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"No. No way in hell I'm doing that," you said, throwing up your hands and backing away from the table, littered with piles of Sam's research.
"Aw, come on, Y/N," Sam protested. "You're the only one of us that could do it."
"I am not entertaining some dirty old man for this," you snapped, snatching up a museum scan of the artifact you were supposed to steal. "We'll find another way."
"If there was another way, I'd be asking you to do that," Sam said, furrowing his brow. "This is the path of least resistance. You get in his office, slip it into your dress while he's not looking, and we'll come get you after ten minutes. That's it."
You huffed a sigh and crossed your arms.
Just then, Dean returned from his fast food run, greasy paper bags in hand. "Hey, nerds," he greeted impishly. "Grub's on."
You rolled your eyes as he plopped the bags right in the middle of Sam's papers.
"So, what's the plan for tonight?" Dean asked, settling himself into a chair and unwrapping a double cheeseburger.
"You would know if you had stayed to help make it," you replied annoyedly.
Dean flicked his eyebrows. "No need to get testy."
Sam sighed, deciding to intervene before things got ugly. You and Dean weren't exactly known for getting along, tolerating each other just enough to get jobs done when you had to. This was mostly due to the fact that you thought Dean was a douchebag, and he just dished back whatever you threw at him.
"The best plan we've got so far is that Y/N seduces the guy," Sam explained.
Dean snorted, almost spitting out his too-large bite of burger. "I'm sorry what?"
"I figure we'll never be able to get in there during the event, since it'll be so locked down," Sam continued. "Our best bet is getting him to let one of us in."
"Have you seen her?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow and giving you a once-over. "Not exactly the seducing type."
You looked down at your current outfit. Cargo pants and a mens t-shirt topped with a utility vest and a leather bomber jacket. He had a point, although not for the reasons he thought. You could dress up, you just chose to dress practically. More pockets for knives. No, you just weren't sure you'd be able to convince the man you wanted him. Seventy-something sleazebags weren't exactly high on your to-fuck list.
"For once, I agree with Dean." You tossed the photo back onto the table. "Can we think of something else, please?"
"Yeah, as much as I'd like to see her try and pretty up to get in some old dude's pants, there's gotta be a more surefire way," Dean said with his mouth full. "Cuz you're no femme fatale," he added pointedly.
You were getting a little annoyed at his jabs. "You don't think I can do it?" you asked, looking at him through narrowed eyes.
"Sister, I don't think you could seduce a virgin," Dean scoffed.
You turned to Sam, bristling. "That's it then. I'll do it."
"What?" Dean said loudly through his half-chewed bite.
Sam looked at you with concern. "Are you sure? Just because Dean-"
"I'm sure." You set your jaw confidently. "Let's go to the charity event."
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"We're heading out to the car," Sam called through the bathroom door, where you were putting on the finishing touches to your makeup.
"Be right there," you called back, surveying yourself in the mirror. Not bad, you thought, considering the last time you put on this much makeup was prom night. You had tried to go for something an old man would like: a classic red lip and smoky eye that paired pretty well with the vintage-looking slinky black satin dress you'd found at the thrift store around the corner. It went down to your ankles, showing off your heels, and had a long slit that made its way up your leg to your hip.
You threw your coat on and hurried out the door, hopping into the backseat of the Impala. Sam glanced at you in the rearview mirror and raised his eyebrows appreciatively, but Dean didn't spare you a second glance. You were annoyed, since half the reason you were doing this was to prove him wrong, but there would be plenty of time to show off later.
As the Impala peeled out of the hotel parking lot, you took a deep swig from the flask you kept in your coat pocket. This better work.
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Neither of the boys helped you out of the car when you arrived.
"Chivalry is dead," you announced after almost stumbling onto your face getting out. You tossed your coat back into the backseat, revealing your outfit to the two hunters.
Suddenly Sam was all-too-eager to offer you his arm, and the two of you headed inside, Dean close behind. You hadn't missed the way his eyes widened when you dropped your coat, so you swung your hips a little as you walked. That'll show him.
The plan worked better than you could have hoped. The sleazy old something-inaire led you to his office, hand wrapped around your waist as you clung to his arm, pretending to laugh at his stupid sexist old man jokes.
As he clicked the heavy oak door shut, you quickly scanned the room, trying to find the artifact you came for. There. On his desk. All you had to do was grab it, and-
The old man grabbed you by the hips, pulling you flush against his body. "Where were we, sweetheart?"
Insides roiling with disgust, you turned around and placed your hands on his chest, giving him the sweetest smile you could muster. "Right here," you said cattily, batting your eyelashes as you grabbed him by the lapels and led him backwards to the desk.
Here goes nothing, you thought, and pulled the old guy in for a kiss. Trying to ignore the way his tongue dug into your mouth, you felt around behind you for the artifact.
Got it. You quickly palmed the object and broke the kiss, looking up at the old man through your lashes. Now Sam or Dean was gonna bust down the door, claiming you as his missing drunk sister.
Aaaaany minute now.
The old man smiled wolfishly and you felt his hands creeping lower, lower, until he grabbed your ass firmly, jerking you closer to him and capturing your lips again.
Your heart hammered in your chest. This was not going how it was supposed to. You tried to wiggle away, but the guy was surprisingly strong for his age.
"Where you going, baby?" he asked, eyes glinting.
"I think I- I have to go," you said, aware that you were sounding a little panicked.
"You wanted this," he reminded you, giving your ass a tight squeeze. He swung you around and pushed you into the leather couch across from the desk. You tried to scramble up, but it was hard with your tight dress and the artifact still clutched in your hand, desperately being concealed, so the old man grabbed you easily by the hair, forcing you to stay down.
"Now why don't we put those pretty lips to use?"
The door swung open with a bang. The old man looked up, startled, releasing his death grip on your hair.
"There you are," came the fake-laughing voice of Dean.
"Who are you?" demanded the old man. "Get out of here!"
"Sorry man, this is my sister," Dean said, raising his hands apologetically. "She gets really hammered, acts like a slut. Gotta get her home." He helped you up, and you smiled and giggled, putting on the drunk-girl act.
Dean helped you hurry out of the room, the old man looking disappointed and angry at being cockblocked.
"Thanks," you whispered once you were down the hall and out of earshot. "What a creep."
"Please tell me you got it," Dean said darkly, weaving you through the crowd. You slipped the artifact into his suit pocket, giving it a pat for good measure.
"Didn't do that for nothing." You winked at him and pushed him away to walk the rest of the way to the car on your own two feet.
Dean stared after you, dumbfounded. He tried not to fixate on the way your hips swayed in that dress as you walked away proudly. God, that dress! It hugged your body perfectly, and Dean would be lying if he said he hadn't been eyeing you all night. His cock was semi-hard in his dress pants, an annoying reminder of just how much you'd proved him wrong.
"Come on, dickhead," you yelled out the back window of the Impala. Dean realized starkly that he had stopped in place thinking about your tits.
"Dammit," he muttered, hurrying around to the driver's seat.
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The three of you piled into your hotel room to debrief from the mission. You assured the boys that you were alright from your creepy encounter with the old guy, and that stealing the artifact was worth it. The way Dean watched you raptly as you began to disrobe was not lost on you.
"I've dealt with worse in my time," you reminded them, shaking out your hair. "I'm a solo female hunter. Sleazy men hit on me literally wherever I go." You plopped down on the bed and pulled your stockings off one by one.
"As long as you're sure," Sam said, stretching and yawning. "I'm gonna head back over to our room to get some sleep. You coming, Dean?"
Dean snapped out of his fantasy. "Uh, no. I'll be there in a little bit. Gotta talk to her about something."
Sam raised an eyebrow. "Okay. Just don't bite each other's head off." And with that, he was gone.
You watched Dean from the shadows of the half-lit room. When he made no move to say anything, you did. "What do you need to talk about?" you asked, knowing full well. "Gonna say sorry cuz of how wrong you were?"
Dean flicked his eyes up to yours. Where had he been looking before?
He cleared his throat awkwardly. "Yeah. You did good."
You stood and sauntered over to where he sat in a straight-backed chair by the dresser. "But that's not all, is it?" You smirked at him and looked him up and down, gaze lingering on his crotch, where a tent had begun to form.
Dean covered his bulge with his hand and pressed down, growling. "You were a little too good."
"So, what? You stayed because you want me to help with that?" you teased, coming closer.
"Yeah," Dean said roughly, standing quickly.
"No," you said bluntly, taking him by the shoulder and pushing him back into the chair.
Dean grimaced. "Why? Please," he begged, face twisted in arousal.
You giggled. "Wow."
"What?" Dean snapped, eyes cracking open.
"Nothing," you said, smirking. "You could beg a little more, might help." You felt your own arousal start to pool in your panties.
"Please, Y/N." Dean looked up at you with wild eyes, squeezing his cock through his pants.
"Please what?" You cocked your head.
"Please... make me cum," he said finally, eyes dropping to your midriff, unwilling to hold your gaze.
You tilted his chin up so he would look at you again, feeling a certain sense of satisfaction that you had somehow reduced him to this begging, horny mess in the chair before you.
"All you had to do was ask," you said softly. You backed away and sat down on the edge of the bed.
Dean started to get up and follow you.
"No," you said, holding up a red-manicured finger. "Sit back down." You pointed.
Dean frowned but did as he was told. You smiled, delighted.
"You're having way too much fun with this," he grumbled.
"I'm sorry what was that?" you asked with a stern expression. "Do you want to cum or not?"
Dean's dick twitched in his pants. The way you bossed him around was really turning him on. "Nothing."
"That's what I thought." You twirled your hair thoughtfully. Dean whined impatiently.
"Tsk, tsk." You crossed your legs at an angle where he could almost see through the slit into your crotch. "Take your cock out."
Dean was all too happy to oblige, unbuckling his belt and undoing his pants faster than you could say desperate, hiking up his dress shirt in the process.
"Wait," you interrupted before he could go any further. "Why don't you unbutton your shirt, too. Wouldn't want to make a mess." You smirked.
"Okay," Dean agreed breathily, practically tearing the two sides of the shirt from each other, exposing his muscular torso. You had seen him shirtless before, but there was something about the way he was breathing, stomach rising and falling quickly as he panted, that turned you on when it wouldn't normally.
"Now you can take your dick out," you said. You held your breath a little as his cock came into view. He was fully hard now, and dripping. He squeezed the base, moaning.
"Now what?" he asked, eyes shut as he lightly stroked his cock with his fingertips.
"You need me to tell you how to jack off?" you asked meanly. To your surprise, Dean moaned loudly at that.
He began stroking his cock, slowly at first, building up speed as he could no longer contain himself. A near-constant string of quiet whimpers and moans fell from his lips. You took note of the way he swiped his thumb over his leaking slit, spreading it around to aid his fingers.
"Look at me," you instructed. You wanted to see that wild look in his eyes again, and were instantly rewarded as his eyes flew open to meet yours. His mouth fell open as he gasped when he saw you.
"Forget I was here?" you teased. Dean gulped and shook his head vehemently. His hand slowed, and he started tugging himself less frantically, holding eye contact with you intensely.
"Fuck," he whispered hoarsely. "You're so hot, wanna see you."
You smirked. "Only because you admitted it." You hiked up your skirt, spreading the slit open so he could see your black lace panties.
Dean devoured your skin with his eyes, rubbing the head of his cock in circles with his thumb.
You dropped the straps of your dress so that they hung loosely around your shoulders and ran your long nails across your collarbones, petting your shoulders. Then you took hold of the neckline and pulled it down, freeing your tits from the dress.
"Better than I imagined, baby," Dean groaned at the sight, as his hips bucked into his hand.
You took one of your breasts in your hand, squeezing it towards your chest. "You imagined?" you lilted, smiling.
"Been thinkin' about you all night," he admitted shamelessly. "How good your tits looked in that dress. How good- ngh- you looked walkin' away from me."
Your other hand started creeping into your skirt. "Thought I couldn't even seduce a virgin. What does that make you?"
Dean growled, jerking his cock faster. "I don't- fuck-"
"Maybe you're just a manwhore," you purred, hopping off the bed to approach him.
"Please," Dean gasped, tossing his head back. "I need you."
You scoffed. "I'm not that lacking in self-respect." You lightly scratched your fingernails down the side of his face. He leaned into your touch, groaning, hand stilling.
You leaned in to murmur in his ear. "No, you're gonna take care of this all... by... yourself." You laced your fingers into his short hair, scratching his scalp, and pulled his head back. He relaxed and his eyes fluttered closed at the feeling.
"So take care of it," you remind him harshly, giving his hair a hard tug before letting go. Dean raised his head hazily and began to stroke his dick again, gasping. It was angry red, practically begging for release, but Dean seemed determined to tease himself until he couldn't take it anymore, which you suspected would be soon.
You turned your back to him and unzipped your dress, letting it fall to the floor in a silken puddle. You heard Dean moan softly, sound of skin rubbing skin growing faster. You smiled to yourself as an idea occurred to you.
Against a backdrop of street lamplight coming through the window and lewd noises coming from Dean, you padded barefoot wearing only your underwear to the other side of the bed, where your pajamas lay folded neatly on the nightstand. You unfolded them and spread them out on the bed.
"What are you doing?" Dean asked hoarsely. "Don't- please stay- I need to see you," he whimpered finally.
You ignored him, as you had been planning to do, and put your pajamas on dramatically slowly to the soundtrack of Dean begging you to stop, stay naked, help him.
You turned back to him when you were finished and a rush of arousal hit you at the sight: Dean, cock in hand, sitting exactly where you had left him, sweaty and gasping and looking at you with a wild, desperate expression. You moaned softly in spite of yourself.
"Poor baby," you pout, rounding the bed to sit next to him again. "Haven't you come yet?"
Dean's hand was working overtime, forearm muscles flexing and rippling beneath his skin where his sleeve was rolled up.
"Can't," he breathed.
"You can't come?" You feigned surprise, even though you had known for several minutes that he was probably going to wait for your permission.
"Need you," Dean panted. "Can't do it- mm- without you."
"Sure you can," you said, running your nails down his chest. He shivered intensely.
Dean whimpered, face contorting in frustration. "I can't."
"What, I got you so turned on you can't even jack off without me?" you tease, fingertips stopping right above his happy trail.
"Please touch me."
"I am touching you," you reply smoothly, digging your fingers into his stomach.
Dean rolled his eyes, although you weren't sure if it was sass or pleasure. "Please," he insisted, whining.
"Useless." You replaced his hand with yours, gripping his cock tightly as you stroked it for him. "Can't even make yourself come without my help."
Dean went slack-jawed, head falling back once more. "Uh-huh," he moaned breathily. He ground his hips upwards, trying to find more pressure or friction or something but getting nothing but what you gave him.
"You're a useless whore, right?" you taunted. He would tell you if you went too far, right?
"Yes," Dean groaned loudly. You almost clapped your hand over his mouth, certain that Sam could hear through the walls.
"Shhh, be quiet baby," you said instead. You swiped your thumb over the head of his dick and he hissed, biting his lip. Your other hand went down to cup his balls, giving them a light squeeze.
Suddenly Dean's whole body tensed and his eyes flew open. "Shit- I'm so close, please," he panted. His abs flexed, indicating that he was telling the truth.
You increased the pressure on both hands slightly. "Go on then."
Dean let out a sound somewhere between a strangled gasp and a groan as he came, spurting over his stomach and your hands. You kept pumping, using his cum to aid your efforts, until he was begging you to stop between gasping breaths. Only then did you let go of him, admiring your handiwork.
One Dean Winchester (formerly unbelieving of your sexual prowess), spread over a chair, covered in cum, sweaty and panting and utterly fucked out.
"Thank you," he whispered weakly after a moment.
"Will you ever doubt me again?" you asked, smirking.
He rolled his head to the side to look at you. "No. Fuck, that was hot." Dean grinned. "Actually, I changed my mind. Maybe I should doubt you more often."
You rolled your eyes. "Whatever, Winchester. Clean up and go to bed."
Dean got out of the chair stiffly, winked at you, and went to do as he was told.
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dividers by @cafekitsune and @saradika
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queen-of-deans-booty · 2 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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thebiggerbear · 3 months
Text
Dean Winchester x Reader - Prompt Response - "Sleep. I'll keep you safe."
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Summary: When Sam calls to tell you that Dean is gone, you can't accept it. Not until you visit the offline Bunker and see for yourself. ...But is he really gone?
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader; Dean Winchester x Huntress!Female!Reader
A/N: Prompt from @thelonelyempath. I had this idea for a scene in my head that took place during 15x20 with the reader and Sam & then from there it just kind of wrote itself, including the semi-twist. Hope it's okay.
There is a song mentioned in here ("Is This Love" by Whitesnake) which is a sort of homage/dedication/thank you. I read this Dean x Reader fic a long time ago (I can't remember the name of the fic or the author right now, I'm sorry!) but they used the song for some Dean/Reader time in the Impala and I had never heard the song before so I checked it out. I have become obsessed with it. It's so perfect, not only for Dean but in general as an 80s love rock ballad. So thank you to that author whoever you are!
This is meant to take place between mid-15x20 and Dean's foray in The Winchesters (pre-series).
Unbeta'd so all mistakes are mine.
Dividers by @firefly-graphics
Warnings: angst; mentions of character death; mentions of implied sex
Word Count: 12k+
Dean Taglist: @heartlessdelusions; @nancymcl; @brightlilith
"Sleep. I'll keep you safe."
Soldier Boy version | Beau version | Jenny version | Tom version | Jason version | Anael version | SDV Alex version
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You sat on the corner of the bed in your motel room, numb, your phone next to you, having been forgotten long ago. 
It couldn’t be true. It wasn’t. You refused to believe it. How was Dean just gone? On a simple hunt? How?
Sam had called you to give you the news. You could hear the breaks in his voice as he relayed what happened, sounding as if he had been crying just a few minutes before. Vampires. Who were mute. A gang of them run by a vampire named Jenny they had faced off with years ago. On a hunt with John. She had gotten away and they thought she was gone for good. Apparently not.
You were frozen, in shock, unable to process what he was telling you. 
“Y/N?”
“I… I need to see him,” you whispered.
Sam was quiet for a moment before he forced out, “I gave him a hunter’s funeral.”
You shut your eyes in pain. “What?” You could feel your throat tightening as well as your chest.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, but I had to. I couldn’t…” You heard him take a breath. “I couldn’t make the long drive with… I just couldn’t.” You could hear those breaks again and you should have been hurting for him, that not only did he have to watch his brother die but he’d had to burn him alone. But right then you got angry and you couldn’t help snapping at him.
“Why would you burn his body, Sam? You know we need his body to bring him back!”
“Y/N, he didn’t want to be brought back.”
“You don’t know that!”
“Yeah, I do. He told me right before he died. As long as I was going to be okay,” Another break. “He was done.”
A tear rolled down your cheek and regret immediately consumed you. You knew Sam was telling you the truth. Dean making sure Sam would be okay as he was dying clinched it for you. Sam had always been his main concern. You started mentally berating yourself then. If only you hadn’t let fear stop you, you could have given him something to live for, to fight for. He would have let Sam call for help, call Jack, something. He would have made sure he somehow made it home, just like he always did. But you didn’t and now, he was gone. Truly and irrevocably gone.
Another tear slipped down your cheek and you quickly wiped it away. “I have to go, Sam.”
“Y/N, I—”
You ended the call and tossed the phone onto the bed. You weren’t trying to be heartless. Sam was obviously struggling and you should be there for him. That’s what Dean would want, you knew that. The two of you being there for each other, helping one another, you looking after his little brother while he looked out for you. But you just…couldn’t.
Why hadn’t you called Dean? After everything that went down with Chuck and Jack? Why hadn’t you reached out? You owed him that at the very least. So why hadn’t you?
You knew the answer to that. You were scared and like a coward, you’d told yourself it wouldn’t have made a difference. It wouldn’t have changed anything. But a part of you knew it would and that scared you just as much.
You thought back to the last time you’d seen him, right after he and Sam went to try to get Amara on board against Chuck. He was still reeling with the news that Cas had told him before he’d left, that Jack was going to sacrifice himself to kill Chuck. He cared about Jack, more than he let on, even though the kid had accidentally killed Mary. Jack was family to him and he was having a serious moment of doubt. If Jack’s plan would work; if he should let it happen; if he should tell Sam; if Chuck hadn’t been right, he would win in the end. He was so beyond tired of that: Chuck winning. He didn’t want to sacrifice Jack but if they could be free of Chuck and have a chance… 
He was torn up about it and he’d called you, asked you where you were, then begged you to come to the Bunker when he found out you were only an hour or so away. You hadn’t wanted to, you could hear the desperation in his voice and you knew all too well what would happen if you went. You were still hurting and you didn’t know if you could survive that. 
You didn’t bother telling him that the reason you were an hour outside of town was because you’d temporarily settled there, not sure where to go or what to do. Sure, you took on hunts here and there, but ultimately you were lost. Ever since Dean broke things off with you because he couldn’t tell what was real anymore versus what had been Chuck all along. The breakup had hurt, of course, but that caused pain in you that you weren’t really sure you would ever come back from. Him thinking everything between you might not be real? After you’d given him everything you could because you deeply loved him? In your heart, you knew it was real, but when you had said this to him, he’d simply responded with “I don’t” in his typical detached way he adopted whenever he had made up his mind that he had to do something for the greater good, no matter how hard it might be. You thought he had already broken your heart, but it shattered right then in your chest.
Since it was Dean, though, and he never begged, you went. And sure enough, what you worried would happen, happened. One minute, you’d been wiping the rare tears he let fall around you, and the next minute, he was kissing you and gently pushing you back onto his bed. You could feel the desperation in his movements, his touches, the way his lips trailed over your skin. Shockingly, he took his time with you, and it only hit you halfway through that this was his real goodbye. It wasn’t guaranteed that Billie’s plan would work but he hoped it would. And if it did, then that meant he and Sam would finally be free and they could hang it up if they wanted to, do something else with their lives and move on. And that possible future didn’t include you. 
You’d silently cried then, holding onto Dean as he moved and moaned into your ear. When he pulled back to kiss you, your cheeks were free of any tear tracks and you kissed him back. You wondered how on earth he couldn’t feel that this was very real between you as you moved your hips to meet his in a tender rhythm as he held you in his lap, his green eyes staring into yours as he held you close. Sex was sex but this right here, this right in between you right then that he refused to put a name to, it was beyond real. You knew he could feel it just as much as you could…so why was he still hellbent on throwing it (and you) away?
A little while later, you had laid there, with his head on your chest, running your fingers through his hair in soothing strokes, his body still entangled with yours, staring up at the ceiling as you both were still trying to catch your breath. Your heart spoke for you before you could stop it. “I love you,” you whispered, meaning it with every fiber of your being.
It shocked the hell out of you and made something warm and fluttery happen inside your chest when he sleepily murmured to your skin, “Love y’too. Don’go.” You ended up chalking it up to him being in a post-sex sleep daze though, not knowing what he was really saying or even really having heard you correctly. That or he only meant for the night because the very next morning, things went back to how they were.
Dean seemed surprised when he woke up to find you next to him, scrolling through the news feed on your phone for any new cases. You’d given him a warm smile. “Hey, sleepyhead,” you teased.
Instead of smiling back, though, he cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. “Hey.” You could see that familiar detached expression settle on his features and you knew he was regretting the night before. He had been drinking by the time you got there, sure, but he hadn’t been inebriated. He was incredibly lucid by the time he made a move on you so try as he might, this couldn’t be chalked up to a drunken mistake.
You could literally feel that wall going back up and you gave one last ditch effort to keep him from shutting you back out, even laying a hand over his. “Dean, don’t—”
He pulled away from you and got out of bed, quickly slipping on his Scooby Doo boxers and jeans that he grabbed from the floor. You might have smiled seeing the familiar underwear that you hated but secretly loved if you weren’t hurting so much. “I’m hungry. You hungry?” He asked, slipping a black t-shirt over his head. “I’ll go see if Sam’s cooking anything up. I need a serious cup of coffee. You just…” He glanced back at you, seeing you holding the sheet tightly to your chest as you watched him, compulsively swallowing when he saw your eyes glistening. “You, uh, just come out when you’re ready.” He then made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and never looking back. 
You sat back against the headboard, dissolving into a fit of tears and quiet sobs. You knew you should have never come. Once you were able to breathe without fresh tears welling up, you got yourself cleaned up and redressed. You splashed some water on your face and you took a deep breath before leaving the room. You were near the bunker stairs when Sam called out to you.
“Hey! Y/N!” 
He was coming over to you, a big smile on his face. He was pleased to see you.
“Hey,” you greeted back just as warmly, forcing a smile.
He gave you a quick hug and you could see Jack a little ways behind him, giving you a smile and wave. “I didn’t know you were here. We were just about to have breakfast. Why don’t you join us?”       
“Oh, I…”
You were saved from having to make an excuse when Dean appeared next to Jack, his expression severe and cold all at the same time. “She’s got a hunt she’s heading out for. Possible vamp nest in Duluth. Right, Y/N?”
Just when you thought he couldn’t hurt you even more, there he went proving you wrong. “Right,” you agreed quietly. You turned a wan smile onto Sam. “I’ll take a raincheck.”
“Duluth?” Sam glanced from his brother to you. “Maybe we can give you a hand on this one.”
“We can’t,” Dean stated firmly. He gave his brother a look and Sam’s brows furrowed before realization played upon his features and his jaw tightened. He turned apologetic hazel eyes onto you. “Donna’s up that way. If she needs a hand, she can call her,” Dean added.
You felt sick to your stomach. Obviously, you weren’t heading to Duluth or anywhere near Minnesota but the way he dismissed you so casually…the pain was overwhelming. The smile you kept on Sam turned into more of a grimace. “I appreciate the offer, Sam, but I’m good. Like your brother said, I can call Donna if I need anything. Don’t worry. Thanks, though.” You squeezed his arm and then turned to make your way up the stairs.
“Best of luck,” Dean gruffed out. You turned to see pure ice staring back at you. 
You pressed your lips together to keep from falling apart right there, from demanding why Dean had obviously only called you for sex and a pick-me-up when there plenty of women in Lebanon that could do that for him, from begging him to wake up and see you were right in front of him and that what you had was very much real before it was too late. Instead, you continued climbing the stairs. 
“Keep us updated and give us a call if you need anything,” Sam called after you.
“Will do,” you forced out.
“Good luck,” Jack offered.
When you reached the top, you glanced once more at Dean. His expression hadn’t changed one bit. The green gaze staring back at you was cold, hard. You let out a huff and shook your head, turning to open the door and close it behind you. That had been the very last time you saw him.
After that, you went back to the motel you had been renting a room in, packed up, and headed across state lines. You ignored Dean’s calls but took Sam’s. 
Apparently, at some point, you had vanished when Chuck disappeared everyone. You had no idea until Donna filled you in. That explained the several missed calls from both Sam and Dean and the voicemails they left. Both had sounded desperate, especially Dean. 
“Please, Y/N. I know you’re pissed at me and I get it but please call me back. Or call Sam. I don’t care. Just as long as we know you’re still with us and that you’re okay.” His tone sounded rough around the edges but considering the context Sam gave you when you did call him (there was no way you were calling Dean, especially not now), you realized they were just desperate to get in touch with anyone, having lost Cas and being the only three forms of life left on the planet.
Dean was right, you were angry. Angry that he’d used you that night, angry that he’d broken your heart in the first place. He had pursued you before you got together, not the other way around. By the time you let your guard down enough to let him in and things kicked off between you, he was deep in. Or so he’d said. By the time he ended things, you were deep in yourself. Now…now you were in even deeper thanks to him, so deep you were pretty sure Dean would haunt you the rest of your life no matter how you tried to shut him out of your heart.
Another tear rolled down your cheek. Though, you’d never meant the word haunt literally.
You wiped your face with your sleeve and let out an aggravated breath before getting to your feet. You grabbed your coat, your emergency bag, your hunting bag, and the car keys from the table near the door. You locked up and got into the car you only used for hunts and grocery trips now, starting it and backing out of the driveway. 
It’s not that you doubted what Sam had told you or Sam himself, but you needed to see things for yourself. You turned the car in the direction that would lead you to Kansas.
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You opened the door to the Bunker, seeing nothing but darkness greeting you, the clanking of the door being the only sound to echo in the large chamber. That was strange. They never shut it down when they left for hunts. You hit the lights and hearing a loud thrumming sound, you watched as they came back on, one by one. You had your own key since you were also a Legacy. You’d never been more thankful for that fact when you arrived to find the Bunker locked down, no Sam in sight.
You shut the door behind you and dropped your bags near the table. You bit your lip to keep your eyes from welling up when you noticed an unfinished chess game on the table, most likely one that Dean and Cas had been engaged in, but now neither of them would be back to complete it. Instead, you focused on the matter at hand. You pulled your gun out and an angel blade, slipping the latter into your coat pocket in case you needed it. In the other pocket, you slipped a flask of holy water and a small piece of iron bar you could wield if need be. In your gun sat silver bullets; you couldn’t be too careful nowadays. Especially if the word was out to the world of the supernatural that Dean Winchester was gone and only Sam was left now, alone. 
You slowly made your way down the stairs, listening intently for any other noises you might hear. All that you could make out besides your footsteps was the low hum of electricity that was commonplace for the old bunker. You cleared the library, the hallways, the kitchen, the shower room, the infirmary, the Dean Cave where you’d been forced to watch The Lost Boys and slasher films more times than you cared to count (you had dug your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from crying when you saw the DVD cover of Tombstone left near the TV), every single room in the place until you came to the one that made a lump form in your throat. You swallowed it back down and forced yourself to focus, raising your gun that much higher. You opened the door and hit the lights, scanning every which way. The room was clear.
You lowered your gun and made your way inside, the lump in your throat back again. Your eyes roamed over the hastily made bed; the empty dog bowls on the floor (which made your brows furrow in confusion slightly); the messy desk; the empty beer bottles on the table; the headphones on the nightstand; the shotguns on the wall; the books scattered about; the load of laundry sitting off to the right in a corner. Memories washed over you and your eyes began to sting as tears welled up. 
You’d walked into the room to find Dean jamming out on his bed, listening to music through the headphones he’d insisted on buying on your last trip. You huffed out a laugh and dropped the laundry basket of folded clothes onto the bed, garnering his attention. 
He opened his eyes and glanced up to find you smiling at him. 
“What are you listening to?”
He held one of the phones away from his ear and you could hear some serious strumming of heavy metal guitar coming out of it. “Huh?”
“I said, what are you listening to?” You asked a little louder.
“What?” He nearly yelled.
You picked up the top item from your pile, his Scooby Doo underthings, and playfully tossed it at him. It landed squarely on his chest and he immediately jumped up as if it had burned him, his cheeks turning redder by the second as he threw the headphones onto the bed.
“You did my laundry?” He asked in horror.
Amazing. You two had explored every single inch of each other time and time again, been sort of rooming together for the past month, but he was embarrassed that you washed his dirty underwear?
You shrugged and began to place his folded clothes on the bed. “I had room in the washer so I figured I’d grab yours, too. You’re welcome.”
“You washed our clothes together?” He sounded genuinely surprised.
You gasped and gave him a mock look of horror. “Oh no, not together.” You tossed a pair of jeans over at him and he caught it in time. “I used detergent, fabric softener, dryer sheets, and everything,” you teased. “But putting it away is where I draw the line, pal. That’s on you.” You pointed to the neat pile sitting on the bed before moving over to the door to head to the room you kept your things in down the hall. 
Arms wrapped around you from behind, stopping your trek, and Dean murmured into your ear, “You washed my clothes for me?”
“And folded, too,” you pointed out. “Don’t forget that.”
“Mmm, what else can I get you to do for me?” He grabbed the basket from you and placed it down before gripping your hips and moving in to kiss your neck.
“Hey, I’m not your maid. I had room in the washer, that was it. Don’t get used to this,” you laughed before digging your teeth into your lip when you felt his tongue on a particular part of your skin. 
“What if I want to get used to this?” He moved up to your jaw line.
“I’d say you’re SOL. Unless…”
“Unless?” He hummed near your lips.
“Unless you finally let me tidy up this room a little.”
His head shot up, frowning down at you. “What? Why, what’s wrong with how it is now?”
“Well,” You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Some of these papers on the desk need organizing, the books can be put in a stack on the table over there, these empty beer bottles can be thrown out, the shotguns you have near the bed can be put away…”
“There’s nothing wrong with anything you just mentioned,” he grumbled.
“Oh, really? So the other night when you were doing that thing—”
“That thing you really like,” he interrupted, smirking cockily at you.
You had to keep from rolling your eyes and smirking yourself. “When I moved, I knocked into the shotgun and it fell. It almost went off. You remember that?”
“Nothing happened or went off, well, except you.” His smirk got even bigger. “You remember that?”
This time you gently swatted at his shoulder. “Dean.”
He heard the warning in your no-nonsense tone and laughed, leaning in to kiss you. “Alright,” he whispered to your lips. “I’ll put the shotguns up out of the way. But everything else stays.”
You huffed out an exasperated breath. One of these days when he wasn’t looking, you swore you’d do as exactly as you’d suggested. Clear out the empty bottles and stack the books at the very least. 
“Hey, it’s all about compromise, right? Speaking of that,” He turned you around in his arms and you were once again facing the laundry basket he’d left on the floor. “Find a space and keep some of ‘em in here.”
A pleasant shock ran through you. “Are you sure?” You whispered.
He slowly turned you back around and gently cupped your chin. “Yeah, sweetheart, I’m sure. You’re practically sleeping in here every night, anyway. I’d rather you not have to put back on the same clothes from the night before or walk naked down to your room. Then again, naked…”
You glared up at him, making him chuckle and brush his lips against yours. “I just didn’t want to crowd you,” you admitted after a moment. “It’s your space. If I’m in here too much, I can—”
 “I want you here.” You gazed into his green eyes, unsure, but all you saw staring back at you was softness with a glint of earnestness. He was telling you the truth; he really wanted you to stay. 
“Okay,” you agreed with a shy smile.
He beamed at you and then picked you up, making you gasp loudly and wrap your legs around his waist. “Not that you’re gonna be needing them right now.”
You shook your head and kissed him as he walked you both towards the bed. When he had you on it, you could hear the music coming from the forgotten headphones. “Is that…Whitesnake?”
Dean smirked down at you. “Uh huh. One sec.” He reached over, quickly clicked something on his phone, and the music suddenly changed. You smiled when a familiar song started up.
“Really?”
“What? It’s our song.”
You framed his face with your hands, looking up at him affectionately. “Dean Winchester, secretly sentimental and sensitive guy extraordinaire,” you teased him.
“Shut up,” he mumbled. “I’m not any of that crap. It’s the first song we made good use of Baby’s backseat to, that’s all. Now that you’re staying in here, we gotta celebrate.”
Romantic. You rolled your eyes but smiled. “Like I said, sentimental.” You pulled him down to you and kissed him sweetly. Needless to say, he had been right; you hadn’t needed your clothes for a little while.
You took in a ragged breath, your fingers gently touching over the papers on his desk. While you hated the empty beer bottles and you didn’t want to end up possibly shot with a salt round during a passionate moment of sex, you really hadn’t minded how he had things. You knew this was the first home he and Sam ever really had. He could keep things messy or disorganized if he wanted to; he had more than earned the right. It might sound silly to someone else but he deserved to experience living in a home, mess and all, like everyone did at some point in their lives. Not only did he not have a place to do that since he’d been four years old, he’d never felt comfortably settled in anywhere ever to be able to do it. You remembered him and Sam telling you how long it had taken Dean to settle into this room, to think of the Bunker as not just theirs but home. You’d kick the crap out of anyone who tried to take that away from him, and you would be the last person to try to do it yourself. You still thanked him when he hung the shotguns up on the wall; you were beyond grateful. That time, he was the one who went off and quite happily.
A sob nearly tore its way out of your chest when you saw his handwriting on one of the papers. Your fingertips traced each letter. How could he really be gone?
You ran your fingers over an open file, wondering what he had been looking at, when you heard the clicking of nails on the floor behind you. You spun, lifting your gun, to find Sam standing in the doorway, watching you with wide eyes as a dog appeared beside him. That must have been what you’d heard. You lowered the gun and let out a relieved breath. “What are you doing here?”
You winced internally at your question. He had every right to be here, this was his home. You were the intruder.
“The monitoring system we set up… I was alerted that someone was in the Bunker. I locked it down and I know only he and I had the keys, so I didn’t know if…” You watched as he compulsively swallowed.
You turned back to the desk. “I get that. Where were you, by the way? Why did you lock it down?” He didn’t answer for a moment when you glanced over your shoulder at him, seeing his gaze glued to the ground. “Sam?”
His eyes flicked up to yours and he swallowed again. “I was on my way to Austin. For a case. But then…” He gestured towards you. “I turned around and headed back to see.” You noticed he didn’t mention why he had locked the Bunker down but then again, he didn’t really need to. Who else would be coming here now that Dean, Cas, and Jack were gone? Mary was gone as well as most of the other hunters you’d worked with over the past couple of years. Apocalypse World Bobby was still up in Minnesota somewhere. Apocalypse World Charlie and Stevie had moved East, choosing to retire after what happened with Chuck temporarily disappearing everyone. Garth and Bess still lived in their home with their family. Jody and the girls had their own operation up in Sioux Falls with Donna lending a hand every now and then. And you…well, you never told Sam where you were. 
You gave him a slow nod and dropped your eyes back down to the desk, running your fingers over the pages of an open lore book Dean had been reading. It was probably ridiculous but you thought maybe you could somehow still feel him here (though you did not want him to be a ghost), that perhaps by touch or sight or smell even that you could somehow connect to what his last days had been like. You wondered if he somehow knew deep down or if he hadn’t seen it coming. Even though he had always told you that he didn’t see a good ending for himself down the road, that he was forever bound to this life, you knew he also secretly fantasized about his life going in a different direction, one he’d included you in once upon a time. You then wondered if there was a girl somewhere who was either waiting for a phone call she would never get or was crying her eyes out because Sam had given her the news like he had you. It hurt to think that maybe he had found someone that he envisioned another future with instead of you, with someone he knew without a shadow of a doubt that Chuck hadn’t inserted into his life as a manipulation or a story device. Someone that he didn’t question what he had with them, if it was real. Though at the same time, you hoped he found a little piece of happiness. You still loved him enough to want that for him.
You briefly closed your eyes in pain when you remembered that last night you spent with him, telling him you loved him. You truly meant it and even though he hurt you again and again, you still did. You forced the thought away and instead chose to focus on the open book in front of you. “What was he working on?” You choked out, quietly clearing your throat once you heard how rough your voice sounded.
You turned the page, seeing mentions of witches and vampires, when you realized Sam never answered you. You glanced back at him, arching your brows in question.
Sam’s eyes were wide and laser focused on your body, his mouth hanging open. Shit.
You should’ve known that despite the dark clothing you were wearing, the long black coat you were sporting, turning away from him, that you wouldn’t be able to hide your secret much longer. Truthfully, it wasn’t even something you’d thought about when you set out for the bunker. Had Sam been here when you arrived, he probably would have seen it then.
You turned towards the younger Winchester and Sam’s eyes flickered up to you. “Are you…?”
“Yes, Sam.”
Sam closed his mouth and swallowed, glancing back and forth between you and your protruding belly. You read the clear question in his eyes that he was burning to ask.  
“You’re going to be an uncle.”
Except the few times he’d been close to death, you’d never seen Sam look so pale.
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You and Sam sat on the edge of Dean’s bed, Miracle (as you’d come to find out was the dog’s name) laid at your feet, his head on his paws.
“How?” Sam finally asked you.
You snorted in amusement. “You know how.”
“No, I mean… Why didn’t you tell Dean? Did you tell Dean? Because he didn’t tell me and I don’t think that’s something he wouldn’t have told me.”
You wet your lips with your tongue, feeling the heavy weight of guilt and sadness wrap around you once more. “No. I didn’t tell him,” you whispered. It was now the biggest regret of your life, right before the second biggest one of you walking out of the bunker the morning you’d last seen him and not fighting harder to get him to let you back in.
“Were you ever going to?”
Your eyes snapped to Sam at the judgment clear as day in his tone and they narrowed. “No, I wasn’t. He made it pretty clear he wanted nothing more to do with me or anything related to me. So, no, Sam, I wasn’t,” you snapped.
He pressed his lips into a thin line and looked down at his lap.
You turned your gaze forward again, taking a breath to tamp down the familiar anger and resentment that you’d worked so hard to try to let go of. After a moment, you rubbed at your forehead. “Yes,” you muttered. “I don’t know. I think so…”
Sam stayed quiet and let you sort through your thoughts which you were grateful for. You’d been caught completely off guard by the pregnancy yourself. When you found out, you thought back to how you unwisely didn’t take your usual precautions and since you and Dean had broken up long before that, you hadn’t been too concerned with maintaining your birth control. 
You’d thought over your options. Bringing a kid into the hunting lifestyle was the worst thing you could do to it. Dean and Sam were living proof. Their mom herself had known it which was why she tried to get out when she married their dad. Not to mention, it would make you vulnerable in your line of work and the kid would always be in danger, always have a target on its back. Plus, you were pretty sure that even if you told Dean, he’d be less than thrilled. He always told you he didn’t want kids, for the very reasons you were now facing. And did you really want to bring a kid into the world that Chuck was about to end, only to have a father who was dismissive of it, or even hated it? You didn’t think Dean would be capable, he’d been great with Jack and Ben after all, but this was different. This kid would have his blood, his genes, would look like him somewhat. Sure, he had that in Emma once and that had torn him up, but this would also be different. This was for the long haul. And that’s only if he even wanted to be in this kid’s life. Which he might opt not to. How could you do that to your child? So you considered choosing to end the pregnancy, which would have been a true mercy given everything stacked against it before it would be born, but eventually you decided otherwise. 
You’d heard the baby’s heartbeat on a checkup while you were still mulling it over, and that was it. Dean wanted to know if what you had was real or not? Here it was, its little heart thumping away deep within your body. After that visit, you’d decided the hell with it. You were someone who believed everything happened for a reason, well before things with Chuck went bad though you still operated on this age-old belief most of the time. You were having a kid, one who would be half of you and half of Dean, the love of your life for all intents and purposes. Though it had hurt when he dismissed you that morning, perhaps this had been the reason why he called you out of the blue, wanting you to come to him, and why you went despite knowing what would most likely happen and how much pain it would cause you.
So you made a decision to start pulling out of hunting. Donna rented her family cabin in Hibbing to you. Bobby hadn’t been back since Mary died so it was sitting empty and unused. You hid the pregnancy as best you could but ultimately, once the first trimester was over and you had popped, you couldn’t hide it anymore. Donna found out though she never knew who the father was. She didn’t pry which you appreciated. When she called you to warn you that Billie was making people disappear left and right, a familiar fear clawed at your chest. Not only fear for your child but also the fear of what if Dean found out about it. That was the only thing that kept you from offering to come down to Kansas to help. 
“We’re going into some place warded to protect us. You should do the same. I can send you pictures of the sigils they’re using.”
“Okay, thanks. Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”
“Yeah, don’t you worry. We’ll figure this out. You just stay safe in the cabin. You and…well, you know.”
You appreciated her staying discreet when you heard Sam’s voice in the background. “I will. Thanks, D.”
“You betcha. Talk soon.”
You hung up and Donna did indeed send you the pictures. You did your best with what you had but it didn’t matter in the end. The last thing you remembered was painting a sigil on the window and then everything went black. The next thing you knew, you were back at the window, your finger extended towards the glass, the half-finished sigil staring back at you. You noticed the sun was in a different position in the sky than it had been and you immediately grabbed your cell phone. Two days had passed. How? 
It hit you then what happened and you dropped the phone with a cry, immediately grabbing at your stomach. You ran for the machine Jody had shipped to you after Donna told her. At the time you’d been annoyed, but right now, you couldn’t be happier at the sheriff knowing about your pregnancy once your baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the bedroom. You let out a huge sigh of relief, rubbing your belly affectionately. “We had quite a scare there, didn’t we, kiddo?”
It dawned on you then that while you had vanished, you were back, baby and all. Did that mean everyone else was back, too? You went back downstairs for your cell phone and immediately called Donna. Yep, everyone was back, they had all disappeared, and it wasn’t Billie but Chuck who had done it. You asked after Dean and Sam and that was when she told you about Cas and then Jack. You knew both brothers would be devastated, especially Dean, and you considered breaking your radio silence to call him. However, you chickened out at the last second and called Sam instead to check in.
It’s not that a part of you didn’t want to tell Dean he was going to be a father, it was that you were scared of what would happen when you did. Originally, you had feared that he would turn his back on you completely, more importantly on his kid, but now you were worried that maybe it would be the exact opposite. While you would be happy for him to be actively involved in your child’s life as its dad, you also knew Dean. He would try to resume things between you, make it work for the kid’s sake. Just look at how long he tried to make it work with Lisa for Ben’s sake. Not that he didn’t love her and he ended up leaving to protect them, but even Lisa knew his heart wasn’t in it. While that had been for different reasons involving hunting and Sam’s reappearance in his life, he still tried to make it work. But as he’d told you, the family thing didn’t work for him, and besides he already had a family with Sam, Cas, and Jack. You hadn’t missed how he didn’t include you in that group; you supposed you should’ve known then. 
You didn’t want him to fake wanting to be with you just to give your kid some semblance of a family life that Dean himself hadn’t really had. You didn’t know if you could take him forcing himself to kiss you goodnight before turning his back on you every single night. Or forcing a smile when he’d come home after a long day and you were the first thing he saw when he stepped inside. It was a ridiculous fear to have, you knew that, and you should be stronger than this — you were stronger than this. Not to mention, you knew you were being selfish and not at all fair to your baby or Dean. But the images kept replaying over and over in your mind, making you flinch, and you told yourself you’d tell him the next day. The next day turned into next week, then the next month. Before you knew it, you were in your third trimester and you were getting a call from his younger brother to inform you of his untimely death.
Maybe that’s really why you raced down here from Hibbing. Maybe that’s why you wanted to see for yourself that he was gone. Not only to confirm that the man who had your heart was gone for good, but also so you could tell him, hoping he might hear it wherever he now was. Or maybe by some act of mercy Jack could relay it to him, wherever Jack was. It was cowardly, you were a coward, and you hated yourself for it. You knew you should have told Dean months ago, after you found out that he and Sam had beaten Chuck, Jack was in charge of the universe now, and the world was not coming to an end anytime soon. Regardless, you couldn’t turn back the clock.
A tear escaped that you quickly wiped away, not caring if Sam saw or not. “You know, when you first told me about Dean, I considered a demon deal.”
Sam’s head snapped up. “No! That’s not what he would want! No!”
You held out a placating hand. “I know. I’m not going to do that.” He seemed to deflate slightly in relief. “I can’t, anyway.” You motioned to your bulging stomach. “I couldn’t do that to my kid. Only be around for 10 years and then poof, I’m gone? Even if it had Dean, if Dean wanted it that is, it’s still terrible to do that to a kid.” You winced slightly when you realized you were saying this to Sam Winchester of all people.
“Dean would’ve wanted it,” he assured you quietly.
You grimaced and dropped your gaze down to the dog who was staring up at you. “Maybe.” You reached down to pet his head. 
Sam placed a gentle hand on your shoulder. “He would’ve.”
You stayed quiet for a moment, thinking over his words, when you murmured, “Is there any way to get him back?”
Sam let you go and his hazel eyes began to shimmer. “No,” he choked out. “I, uh, checked with Jack and he said it was his time. So…no.”
“What?” You snapped, getting to your feet. “After everything you’ve done for that kid? He just—”
Sam got to his feet, tenderly cradling your shoulders. “I know. I didn’t want to hear it either but…Jack’s right.” Your jaw dropped, ready to let some f-bombs fly (which you usually tried to avoid since the baby could now hear you), when Sam’s hands moved up to your face, trying to get you to listen. “He was ready to go. Jack confirmed it. Dean’s in Heaven and he’s at peace.”
Tears were on the edge of falling when you heard that. “He’s in Heaven?”
Sam nodded, a tear making its way down his cheek. “Yeah. He is.”
If Dean was in Heaven…well, then that was some consolation at least. Just when he thought he’d never make it there thanks to his being a demon for a short stint, being killed by a Hell Hound, and everything that had occurred over the years — even some of the things he’d done. But that also meant he was gone, for good this time. It was confirmed; he wasn’t coming back. It hit you like a freight train and it punched a huge hole in your chest. You felt as if you were falling, falling, and would never stop. Dean was…gone. “Then he’s…”
“He’s gone,” Sam confirmed. “He’s not coming back.”
Your knees buckled and you nearly fell, Sam thankfully having caught you. You heard a wailing sound but you had no idea where it was coming from until you felt it ripping its way out of your body. Sam gingerly picked you up in his arms and moved you onto the bed. You were violently sobbing and you barely noticed Sam holding you, gently rocking you back and forth, his own tears falling into your hair. Miracle had jumped up and laid next to you, whining quietly and trying to shove his head under your hands, rubbing his body carefully against your belly. 
There was no way. No way that this was real. This had to be a nightmare. But when you heard Sam sniffle above you, choking out, “It’s going to be okay, Y/N. I promise, it’s going to be okay,” you knew that it wasn’t. Memories of Dean’s face, his laugh, his smiles, his touch, his scent, the way he looked at you when you’d both been happy together, his kisses, the way he felt like home in a way that no other person or place ever could, the way he made you feel safe — all of it smashed over you like a tidal wave and it didn’t let up. Dean Winchester, the man you’d loved with all of your heart, the man whose child you now carried inside of you, was gone. And there was nothing you could do to bring him back.
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Dean had just pulled the Impala over at a beautiful spot, where you could see nature’s beauty for miles. He rested back against Baby and marveled at it all. There was even a double rainbow that showed up and Dean chuckled, knowing that had to be Jack’s doing considering there hadn’t been any rain. Then he wondered if it did rain at all. How did things like that work up here anyhow?
He was still enjoying the view when Jack popped in next to him. 
“There he is.” Dean grinned and went to give him a hug before he thought better of it. “Am I still allowed to…you know?”
Jack smiled. “Of course. I like hugs.”
Dean laughed and embraced him tightly. “Thanks, kid. For everything you did up here, I mean. Bobby told me.” He pulled back, clapping his shoulder in thanks. “So, where’s Cas?”
“He’ll be along shortly but first, I need to show you something.”
Dean’s brows furrowed but he shrugged. “Okay.”
Jack placed a hand on Dean’s shoulder and next thing Dean knew, he was back in his old room at the Bunker. “Whoa,” he whispered, thinking Jack and Cas had built the Bunker just for him. He would be able to wait for Sam here, in his home. He hoped the TV in the Dean Cave worked and that he still had access to his music. Baby’s radio had worked so he had high hopes. He was about to thank Jack when his eyes suddenly caught sight of someone in his bed. Well, two someones. 
He glanced towards Jack who gave him a subtle nod, silently encouraging him to get closer. Dean shot him a confused look but did move closer. When he caught sight of you, his heart dropped into his stomach. Even being dead, he felt the same exact thing he felt the last time he had seen you. You were the one who got away, or more appropriately, the one he pushed away. 
Sure, he’d been confused when he found out everything in his life was a lie when Chuck revealed himself to be a giant dick, but he did love you. He had such trouble reconciling the two: what he knew to be true and what his mind was telling him. No other romantic relationship had worked out for him, all two of them prior to you, and now he knew why. Chuck liked him better on his own, being the guy with no strings attached and rolling through town to save the girl, kill the monsters, get thanked, and move on his way. The only other person Chuck liked having in the Impala regularly was Sam. You, well, you he hadn’t seen coming and after the Big Bad Chuck reveal, he had to wonder why. 
He had never meant to hurt you, though he couldn’t seem to stop from doing it. If things weren’t real between you all of this time, he didn’t want to keep pretending like they were. That wasn’t fair to either of you and he certainly didn’t want to continue stringing you along when his heart was no longer in it like it used to be. So he let you go, as painful as it was and as wrong as it felt, he did the right thing by you. Then that night he’d called you out of the blue, he’d been torn up about Cas’ revelations about Jack’s actual role in Billie’s plan, how badly he wanted Chuck gone, and how while he didn’t want to sacrifice the kid, he wanted his and Sam’s freedom more. Without thinking, he’d picked up the phone and dialed you. He shocked himself when he asked you to come over after hearing you weren’t that far away, and you shocked him even more when you agreed. 
Dean hadn’t planned for you two to be intimate, but once you were there, right in front of him, it hit him hard how much he missed you, missed what you had together. So he made a move and you let him. He’d put everything he had, everything he felt but couldn’t tell you, into this stolen moment in time between you. And then the next morning, he thought it had all been a dream until he turned his head and saw you laying there, hair adorably disheveled, sheet covering you, doing something on your phone. It briefly reminded him of the many mornings he’d woken to find you in this exact same position, already up after a wild night, searching for cases. He wanted to bask in the comfort and familiarity for a moment longer, but when you turned and smiled at him, greeting him like you always had, he started kicking himself internally. He didn’t want you to think that this meant things would change when he knew they wouldn’t. He was being unfair to you and it wasn’t right. He’d been a selfish bastard and now he had to go into dick mode which would hurt you again. And sure enough, he knew he did when he saw your face fall as he easily dismissed you, not once but twice. He winced at the memory; he certainly didn’t blame you for not taking his calls or returning his voicemails after that.
The truth was that while he had initially been confused about his feelings for you and their validity, he knew he cared deeply about you and the most important thing was keeping you safe. He didn’t want you involved in the Chuck showdown, which is why he rudely dismissed you that morning, making up an excuse of a case in Duluth, something he knew you’d go along with. After watching you leave, as the door closed behind you, his heart fell into his stomach and he felt about three inches tall. He hated hurting you, hated pushing you away, but he knew it was for the best. You needed to be safe; not a target for Chuck.
After Chuck had been defeated and Jack took over, Dean realized in those months that he’d been a grade A idiot when it came to you. Sure, he’d been a cold dick, but he also had been a complete dumbass. He still loved you and he missed the hell out of you. What you had together had been something special that he stupidly threw away. There were quite a few nights after quite a few drinks, he’d picked up his phone and hovered over your number but he never actually called it. How could he even think of asking you to forgive him and give him another chance? After everything he’d said and done? He truly was a selfish bastard. 
When he didn’t call, he then switched over to all of the photos and videos he had taken of you and both of you together. As he heard your laughter, saw both of your smiles, watched how you looked at him and the affection you’d shown him, he continued drowning his sorrows. He wanted so much to talk to you, to apologize and explain, and ask if he could come see you, but he never let himself ask. He didn’t deserve it; he knew that. 
Now, here you were, asleep on his bed, Miracle curled up next to you. Staring down at you, he wondered how the hell he had ever let you go. And now, he’d never get to hold you again, feel your touch, or even share a conversation with you ever again. Even though Dean was at peace with his fate, regret languished within his chest the more he studied your face. He reached out to brush some hair back over your face but sadness overwhelmed him when he realized he couldn’t even do that small simple touch. Not anymore.
Dean’s eyes narrowed when he noticed an arm curled around you, almost protectively, pinning you to another body. His gaze traveled up that arm to find his younger brother, asleep right behind you. That surprised him but he quickly put two and two together. You must have gone to the Bunker when Sam called you to tell you the news and here you were, in Dean’s room, asleep on his bed with his dog. And while he didn’t begrudge you or his little brother some comfort you both might need, he didn’t like the look of that embrace or that Sam’s face was buried into the back of your neck.
Dean glanced back down at the arm, seeing Miracle staring right up at him. He couldn’t help but smile at the canine who had been his companion for months before he died. “Hey, boy,” he whispered, not sure if he would be heard or not but not wanting to startle you if he was. “How are you?”
Miracle didn’t seem to react at first, not until he got up and moved closer, wagging his tail. Dean went to try to pet the dog, hoping he could at least touch the animal, but he never got that far. His eyes zeroed in on just what Miracle’s body had been blocking.
His wide eyes flicked up to you, to Sam, back to you, and back to your fairly large and round stomach. The hell with being heard and possibly scaring you two. He glanced back to find Jack watching him. “What the hell is going on here, Jack?”
“They’re sleeping.”
“I’m aware of that,” he growled. “But what—”
Just then, Cas popped in next to Jack. When the angel saw Dean, he offered a soft smile. Dean felt himself relax slightly and a part of him wanted to go hug the angel but another part of him was nervous to. Plus, he really wanted to know what the hell was going on. He shifted his eyes towards Jack, his jaw tightening. “What the hell are you showing me?”
Cas glanced towards the bed, realization lighting his features, before he turned to Jack as well.
“The present,” Jack simply answered.
Dean cursed under his breath, not caring that both Cas and Jack could hear him. “The present of what? Because from where I’m standing, it seems like some time has passed.” He gestured towards your stomach. He tried not to be angry with you or Sammy, he really did, but dammit, his brother knew how he felt about you! Him dying didn’t change that! Besides, Sam had something going with Eileen last he knew, whatever happened to that?
“What you’re seeing is a few days after your death.”
Surprise ran through Dean at that revelation. So, this wasn’t some screwed up future scene he was witnessing? His eyes roamed over you, coming to rest once again on your stomach. You were very pregnant, looking as if you might be ready to pop any day now, he wasn’t sure. But one thing was clear; there was no way the baby was Sam’s. Sam wouldn’t have been able to keep that secret from him that long and he just didn’t see you or Sam going behind his back like that while he was alive. You were pissed at him, maybe even hated him, but you would never do that to him. Nor would Sam. The only answer was that you had found someone else and you were starting a family with them. Now he understood your radio silence even more. You might currently be sad at the news of his death, awash in memories in his room to where you’d fallen asleep on his bed and Sam had to comfort you, but you had truly moved on. That burned him even more. While he was happy if you were happy, knowing you’d found someone who wouldn’t break your heart and would treat you better than he ever could, a part of him was saddened by this knowledge. He knew you were too good for him, that you deserved better, but to see it confirmed in such a way, well, it was heartbreaking.
“So if she’s… Then she’s…” He couldn’t even put it into words; it hurt too much.
Jack clasped Dean’s shoulder. “The child is yours, Dean.”
Dean wasn’t alive anymore but if he had been, his heart would have stopped. He turned to Jack, shocked. “What?”
“You’re going to be a father,” Jack supplied, letting him go.
“But…how?” Dean’s gaze fell on you once more.
Cas suddenly appeared on his other side. “You don’t remember how you conceived the child?”
“What? No, I just…”
“Dean,” Jack called. 
When he turned to look at the new God, the latter held up a glowing finger to him that almost reminded him of that movie E.T. “What are you gonna do with that? Check my temperature?” Speaking of E.T., hadn’t that been one of the last movies picked for movie night before the Chuck showdown?
Jack smiled and touched the finger to his forehead. Within seconds, Dean was reliving every single moment between you two:
…When you’d met. 
…When he decided he’d liked you while you decided you didn’t like him too much.
…His constant flirting and trying to win you over.
…Your begrudging friendship that then grew into something more.
…Your relationship.
…Your breakup.
…All of the times you’d been in pain because of him.
…That last night.
…The next morning. 
Then the memories shifted to yours from after that morning: 
…You finding out about the pregnancy a couple of months later.
…Your hemming and hawing over calling him to tell him.
…Your fears.
…When you’d vanished with everyone else.
…Your panic upon your reappearance.
…The time you spent getting ready to retire from hunting and set up a normal life in Hibbing while preparing for the baby.
…The call from Sam with the news of his death.
…Your regret at not telling him about his child and your drive down here.
…Your conversation with Sam.
…Your collapsing in grief at finally realizing that he was gone and not coming back.
All of it that led to the scene he was witnessing now. He felt everything you felt, heard every thought, saw every tear, every smile. 
By the time Jack pulled away, Dean’s eyes were wet. He wasn’t sure how he was able to produce tears as a dead man but he did. Not only did he feel how deeply he’d hurt you, but he also felt just how deeply you loved him. He already knew he’d been an idiot when it came to you, but he really had no clue before this just how incredibly stupid he’d been. It had always been real between you. That hadn’t been Chuck. Not by a long shot.
Dean discreetly wiped his eyes. “Send me back.” His tone was firm and he wasn’t really asking.
“I’m sorry, Dean, but your time on Earth is up.”
Dean turned a menacing glare onto Jack. New God or not, he didn’t care. “She’s having my kid and she needs me. They both need me. Sam, too. After everything I’ve done for this world, you owe me.” Jack stared him down, unbothered by the taller man’s attempt to make demands. “Now I appreciate the Fixer Upper: Heaven Edition, I really do, but I should be with them. I deserve a shot at this and you know it.”
Jack mused on that for a moment before staring up at Dean sadly. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that.”
Dean scoffed. “Then why bother showing me any of this? Why bother telling me that it’s my kid she’s about to have? What’s the point, dammit?”
“You were afraid that you had left nothing behind of value, except Sam and your beloved car. Afraid that your life hadn’t amounted to anything in the end. No matter how many people you saved, no matter how many connections you made, no matter what good you did. ” Jack gestured towards you. “It did amount to something. You are leaving behind something, something important. A legacy,” Jack gestured to your stomach. “A family,” he waved his hand over you and Sam. 
Dean’s jaw clenched and he ignored the stinging in the corner of his eyes. “So this was just to show me what I can never have. The girl, the kid, the life…that’s just aces,” he muttered.
“No, Dean,” Cas spoke up. “What Jack is trying to explain is—”
“--your life amounted to more than you thought it had,” Jack finished.
Dean watched as Miracle went back and curled up against your belly once more, his head on his paws as he watched the scene in front of him. The corner of Dean’s lips tipped up into a smile. It was almost as if the dog knew it was his kid in there. And he was determined to protect it in Dean’s absence. His smile faded though when he thought of how he wouldn’t be able to see his kid, at all. He’d had enough of this. “That’s great. Appreciate the pep talk, fellas. Now, if you could send me back so I can actually raise my legacy and take care of my family, that’d be much appreciated.”
Jack and Cas exchanged a glance. Dean knew he wasn’t winning this one but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t keep trying. “It’s not your time yet,” Jack answered cryptically.
Dean’s head snapped in his direction. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that now your time is in Heaven, not Earth. And it’s best if you return to it.” Before Jack could snap his fingers, Dean held up a hand.
“Whoa, wait! That’s it? You’re not even gonna let me stick around to see what I’m gonna have?”
Jack smiled once more. “You’re going to have a son. A strong, healthy son.”
Dean reeled from that information. “A son?” He choked out.
Jack gave him a happy nod and held his fingers up again.
“Wait, wait! I’m serious, Jack. Why can’t I stick around?”
“You know what happens to ghosts, Dean. Besides, you’ve already been admitted to Heaven.”
“But you can do something about that, right? Like bring me back?” When Jack didn’t respond, Dean became desperate. “At least let me check in on them every now and then or something! You’re telling me you can’t even do that? You’re freaking God!”
Jack’s smile faded. “You’re not an angel, Dean.”
“No,” Cas interrupted. “But I am.” Cas stretched out his wings that were a lot brighter than Dean remembered. If he wasn’t dead, he was pretty sure he would at they very least be blinded from the brightness right about now. “I can take him back when he’s ready and I can escort him on any future visits.”
Dean was shocked but also beyond grateful at Cas’ offer. While they hadn’t spoken yet about how things were left between them before The Empty took away the angel, he couldn’t imagine it would be easy for Cas to watch as he pined over someone else, as he watched his kid grow, but Dean was grateful all the same. 
Jack appeared to think this over before meeting Cas’ intent gaze. “You will make sure to bring him back each time.” At Cas’ nod, Jack gave him a knowing yet affectionate smile. “I expect you to keep to the rules during these visits.”
“Of course,” Cas agreed.
Jack then glanced over at Dean. “If you’re worried about her and your child, you don’t need to be. Sam is going to watch over them.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly and his head snapped in your direction, his eyes shifting to Sam’s arm around you.
“What the hell does that mean?” He demanded.
“It means that your family is going to be safe. They’re going to stick together. Sam is going to help Y/N raise your son. He won’t allow any harm to come to them.” 
His jaw tightened, thinking it should be his arm over you, him behind you, him helping you raise your kid, you two together. He should be the one to take his son fishing, teach him about girls when he got older, show him how to keep Baby going, be the father his old man had the potential to be but minus a few things. He’d do whatever it took to keep the kid out of hunting, to give him a shot at a full happy life. He’d give up hunting himself in order to make it happen. And you…if you’d take him back, he’d never leave your side. Hell, he’d marry you if you let him. After Jack had caught him up to speed on everything you went through, everything you had felt and were feeling, he’d spend the rest of his life making it up to you, letting you know every single day just how much he loved you, if only you’d let him. If only Jack would allow him to come back. It felt beyond wrong that he wasn’t there and Sam was stepping into his place. Sam shouldn’t have to; he should be able to go and build his own family with Eileen or whoever, get married, have a couple of kids, buy a house, get out of hunting and go back to school — do whatever he wanted with his life. Not this.
“Dean.”
His eyes slowly lifted to Jack’s, who was a lot closer now than he had been before. He laid a reassuring hand on the man’s shoulder. “It’s as it should be. After you died, Sam was lost. She’s going to need help when the child is born.” He stared at Dean meaningfully. “They all need this.”
Dean’s gaze briefly roamed over the three of you on the bed before landing on Jack again. He thought back to his cryptic words from before. “Will I ever meet my kid? Get to see her again? Outside of Heaven?”
Jack’s expression didn’t change nor did he say anything but he squeezed his shoulder. That was the only response Dean was going to get apparently. 
Dean huffed a snort and shook his head.
“I told you, Dean. There would be no more meddling with the world from on high. I will not repeat Chuck’s mistakes. Everything is as it should be.”
Dean’s jaw clenched and he dropped his gaze. No, everything wasn’t as it should be. He made up his mind then to talk to Bobby when he got back. There had to be something he could do to get back to Earth, to get back to you and Sam and the baby…to get back to you all. If he couldn’t convince Jack to send him back, he’d find some other way.
Jack released him as Cas came to stand next to Dean. “I’ll see you back in Heaven.” He then looked at Cas. “Not too long.”
Cas gave him a nod and like that, Jack disappeared, leaving the angel and the hunter alone. Dean wasn’t thinking about how that might have set them up to talk about Cas’ last words to him before dying; right now, his focus was on you.
“Cas, please…can I touch her?”
“Dean…”
“Please,” he begged. “Just one last time. I’m not gonna get to be with her or raise my kid. I just want to touch her one last time. Please, Cas.”
Cas thought it over and then moved closer to the bed, leaning down to place two fingers against your forehead. Dean’s brows furrowed when he noticed a golden glow appear from the touch. “Whoa, whoa, Cas. What are you doing?”
“I’m giving you what you asked for. Y/N’s a light sleeper, like all of you hunters. If she wakes up, she could think she’s being attacked by a ghost or some other entity. I doubt you want that.” He pulled away and gave Dean a look.
“No,” Dean quietly agreed. Cas moved away to make room to let him in. Dean gingerly sat on the bed, about to touch you when he glanced up at the angel, unsure. Cas gave him a nod and Dean turned to gently run the backs of his fingers down your cheek. He felt your warm and soft skin this time when he came into contact with you and he let out a small breath of relief, sadness filling his chest. 
“I’m so sorry, Y/N. Had I known, I would’ve…” He supposed it didn’t really matter what he would’ve done. “I should’ve been there. You shouldn’t have had to go through all this alone. I should be there with you now, ready to help you take care of the kid. I…” He tenderly moved your hair behind your ear. “I’m sorry, sweetheart. I never wanted to hurt you, but I had to keep you safe. I didn’t want you to become a target for Chuck. And I never should’ve…” He could feel a familiar stinging at the corners of his eyes and he wasn’t surprised that his voice was a bit gruffer when he next spoke. “I knew what we had was real. I know I questioned it for a second there but I always knew. That’s why it was so important to me that you were safe. But it doesn’t make what I did and said okay. And I’m sorry for that.” He ran his fingers lightly over your lips, wishing he could kiss you one last time, feeling you kissing him back. “I love you,” he whispered, a single tear falling down his cheek that he hastily wiped away. He stroked the apple of your cheek tenderly with his thumb. “And I always will.”
Not really wanting to pull away from you but knowing he was on a time clock, he reluctantly moved his fingers away from your face and laid his hand on your belly. He couldn’t feel anything except the taut skin underneath his fingertips, but it was enough to make him smile. “Being that you’re my kid, you’re probably going to give your mom a run for her money. Try not to make her too crazy, huh?” He let out a watery sounding laugh. “I’m sorry I can’t be there but your Uncle Sammy is going to make sure you and your mom are taken care of. Okay? He’s going to show you how to toss a ball around, help you with your homework, all that stuff. Just do me a favor, though. Don’t let him feed you kale the whole time and don’t let him get you into his true crime podcasts. The guy is a classic nerd, don’t let him turn you into one, too.” His smile slowly faded. “Saying all that, he’s one of the best guys I've ever known and I know he’ll be good to you, be good to your mom. So cut him some slack when you get older, alright?” He rubbed his thumb in gentle circles. “Take care of your mom for me. I’ll be watching over both of you. I hope I get to meet you someday.” Unable to resist, he leaned down and pressed a kiss to your stomach before sitting up and coming face to face with Miracle. The dog quietly whined and Dean gave him one last good head scratch. “You look out for them, okay buddy?” The dog whined again and Dean patted him.
“Dean,” Cas gently called.
Dean nodded and slowly got to his feet. His eyes shifted to Sam who was sound asleep, giving him a soft smile. “Thanks for taking care of them, Sammy,” he whispered. He didn’t vocalize that it was only temporary, that he was hell bent and determined to find a way to get back. His eyes then landed on you and he reached out to you one last time, trailing a fingertip along the dried tear tracks on your cheek. “Cas, can we just stay until they wake up?”
“Dean, Jack said—”
“I know what Jack said,” Dean snapped, glancing back at the angel whose parted lips pressed into a thin line. Dean immediately felt sorry for snapping at him; it wasn’t Cas’ fault and he wasn’t angry with him. He softened his tone. “I just want to be here when she wakes up. That’s all.” Cas seemed to be wrestling with his request. “Please, Cas,” he begged. “I just want to see her like this, awake.” He was slightly embarrassed at admitting that to his best friend but he wasn’t sure when he’d be allowed to visit again (and what he might be able to figure out to get himself back or how long it would take), and he had the strongest urge to see you up and about, walking around, pregnant with his kid. Not to mention he wanted to hear your voice one last time. “Please,” he whispered in a broken plea.
Cas stared at him for a moment before giving him a nod. “But after she wakes, we go back.”
“Thank you, Cas.” He meant it. While he highly doubted Cas would get into any real trouble on his behalf, he knew how difficult it must be for the angel to unwillingly push against Jack’s rules.  Dean turned back to you, carefully sitting down next to you, caressing your face. “Sleep, sweetheart. I’ll keep you safe,” he murmured. He also made you a silent promise: he would do whatever it took to get back to you. His eyes briefly roamed to your stomach. To get back to both of you. Fate and the universe and all that crap be damned.
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winchester-girl67 · 3 months
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Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort
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Summary: Dean looks for comfort after a nightmare. He enjoys being the little spoon. 
Requested by anonymous: “could you write a fic where dean just needs some comfort from the reader? it could be platonic and dean just had a bad day or a nightmare and doesn't want to be alone and wants to be held without asking"
Pairing: Dean x reader 
Word Count: 902 
Warnings: language, nightmares, implied violence (hunting a vamp nest), brief mention of a gun reader keeps under the pillow, a little angst, emotional hurt/comfort, cuddling, fluff 
A/N: Found this in my wips, it's a little short but sweet. Enjoy. 
_____
“I said, I'm fucking fine, okay?!” 
Dean's words echoed in your ears. You'd only asked him the once and he just snapped at you, so when you got back to the bunker you beelined for your room and slammed the door. 
You didn't get food, you didn't shower off the motel shower from a few hours earlier like you usually would, and you didn't get any sleep either. ‘Monopoly’ speaking, you did not pass 'GO'. You just pouted in your bed. 
The hunt could've gone better; it also could've gone worse. 
You stared at the ceiling, still awake and wondering how to reproach Dean. He was clearly not fine but until he was able to admit that, there was no getting through to him. Dean was just too stubborn when he was in these moods and honestly you were a little, too. You wanted to help, but you didn't want to swallow your pride and walk down that hall just to have him yell at you again. 
You weren't a masochist. But you still laid there, in bed, overthinking everything that went wrong with the hunt. 
First of all, you should've brought Sam with you, or Cas. Dean said it would be simple enough though with the two of you. It wasn't and you almost got killed. Dean, of course, wasn't letting himself forget it. You could see that written all over his face on the ride home. 
Stopping your mind from racing wasn't easy. You counted the dots on the ceiling tiles as you listened to the ticking of Dean's wristwatch on your arm. He'd synchronized it to the time on his cell and given it to you before the hunt so you could stay structured in your plan against the vamp nest. 
It was smart, until it wasn't. There were more than you expected and you always jumped the gun and went in first. Standing still wasn't the easiest thing for you to do with all that adrenaline pumping in your veins. And you were used to hunting alone. Before the Winchesters came into the picture. 
Needless to say, everything that went wrong after that was about ninety-percent your fault. The other ten was simply a miscalculation.
You'd known the Winchesters for quite some time but moving into the bunker with them was fairly new. In the back of your mind, you hoped Dean wouldn't ask you to move out. You kinda liked not being completely alone anymore. The world was tough and they felt like family already. It would break your heart for sure; shatter any trust you had left. 
Your bedroom door creaked open slowly on its old hinges and a shadowed figure peaked its head inside your room. You held your breath for a moment and gripped the cool handle of your gun underneath your pillow. 
Always on guard. Even if the bunker was the safest place you'd ever been. 
"Easy, Y/N, it's just me." Dean said, pushing the door open the rest of the way so the light of the hall revealed his features. 
His expression was soft, too soft -broken like a man with the weight of the world on his shoulders and the nightmares to prove it. His hair was disheveled and he rubbed his eyes with the palms of his hands. 
"Just wanted to check on you, I'll let you get back to sleep. Sorry I woke you, sweetheart." Dean breathed deep and slowly started to shut your door. "And sorry I yelled." 
"Wait," you sat up and placed the gun on the night table next to you before switching the light on low. "Come here. Close the door." 
You flipped back the covers, shuffled over to make room and patted the mattress beside you. Dean wiped the frown from his face with his hand and did as you said. He shut the door and settled into bed next to you. Tense and unmoving once he rolled onto his side facing away from you. 
He couldn't ask, but he didn't need to. 
You clicked off the light and tugged up the covers to his chin. Your palm rubbed over his shoulders and half-way down his back, then circled up again until you felt his muscles begin to relax. 
"That feels nice," he breathed and sniffled a little. 
You continued your motions for a while longer until his breathing evened out, you could tell he was still awake but knew he didn't intend on talking things out. That wasn't Dean. So instead, you rubbed up and down his arm and molded your chest into his back, settling into your position as big spoon. You squeezed him and held his hand against his chest. 
"Thank you," he sighed and weaved his fingers through yours. 
Dean didn't talk about feelings if he didn't have to. And for someone so 'tough', more often than not, he liked to be the little spoon. Especially to your big spoon. 
There was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were ever to bring it up in the light of day. But things were just different at night and being vulnerable and open didn't feel as achy and oozy. 
Feelings were allowed to be felt in the dark. 
He'd be gone before you woke, starting breakfast and roasting coffee in the kitchen, but for now your pieces could hold his pieces together. 
And maybe you could both finally get some sleep. 
_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy
SPN: @hobby27
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princessmisery666 · 1 month
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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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Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main
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octoberclidan · 2 months
Text
Can't Say No to You
Request: Could I request one with Sam and Dean (they are all best friends and either Sam or Dean has a crush on y/n; you can choose who!) where they all had just gotten back from a hunt and y/n decides to take a shower and then clean up a little bit around the bunker, and then while she is doing the dishes she’s listening to music on a speaker and she dances/sings along to the music (any choice of music). The boys catch her.. something like that? Sorry it’s such a long request I’ve been trying to look for someone to write this idea :))
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Masterlist
Story:
"I am very much looking forward to getting home", [Y/N] sighed from the passenger seat in the Impala. Dean was driving, as usual, and he nodded in agreement. It had been a quick enough hunt, but the drive back had been a long one, and they were all looking forward to a rest.
"I'm just looking forward to being able to stretch my legs since someone stole my spot", Sam said from behind Dean, and [Y/N] looked around to smile sheepishly at him. "And someone else", he flicked Dean on the back of his head, "let them".
"Hey", Dean reached around to rub the back of his head. "That someone just saved both our asses back there. She can sit up front if she wants".
"Mhmm, she can have whatever she wants, because that someone else can't say no to her". Sam sat back and crossed his arms, and [Y/N] giggled as he reminded her of a child throwing a tantrum.
"Sam, are you saying that you can say no to me?" [Y/N] asked him. He mumbled something and looked out the window. She caught Dean's eye and they shared a quiet laugh at Sam's expense, before she turned up the music and the three of them listened to it for the rest of the ride home. Truth was, neither of the boys could say no to her, because they both had an above-average soft spot for her. Dean's soft spot just may have been slightly bigger and may have run deeper than Sam's, but she had both of them wrapped around her finger, and they knew it.
***
[Y/N] announced that she was taking a long, hot shower first as soon as she got out of the car in the bunker's garage. The boys watched her almost skip off towards the bathroom as they pulled their hunting gear out of the car. "She's gonna be the death of you", Sam chuckled as he closed the trunk.
"What?" Dean asked, pulling her bag up over his shoulder and grabbing his own.
"When was the last time she carried her own bag in from the car?"
"She hurt her arm on the hunt", Dean shrugged, starting to walk out towards the bedrooms.
"You mean that scratch on her elbow? She lost what, two drops of blood? Maybe you should go find her and stitch her up", Sam said as he caught up with Dean.
"Yeah, and who was it that drove to not one, not two, not three, but four different grocery stores last week because we were out of her favourite ice cream?" Dean chuckled and Sam paused for a moment in contemplation before sighing.
"She's gonna be the death of both of us".
***
Later in the evening, Dean was in his room, lounging on his bed and scribbling down some notes in his journal about how the hunt had gone, when he heard music playing. Not just any music, but one of his favourites, Ramble On, a song that made it on to nearly every one of his mix tapes. He closed his journal and tossed it to the end of his bed before getting up and wandering out of his room, following the sound of the song. He stopped outside the entranceway to the kitchen. There she was, one of his cassette players set on the counter beside her, while she was cleaning up some dishes that they'd left behind before the hunt. He watched as she swayed her hips from side to side and nodded her head in time with the beat, and he crossed his arms and smiled as he listened to her humming along. He leaned against the entranceway and watched in adoration, the attraction he felt for her was just different to other women, he couldn't quite name it though.
The song had ended and the next one started playing when he felt a nudge on his shoulder, and he looked over to see Sam chuckling and shaking his head, watching her too. "How is she so carefree, when we hunt monsters for a living?" He asked quietly, and Dean shrugged, thinking about it for a minute.
"I think she just makes time for it. You know, time to just not worry about monsters and demons, just be a girl, listening to music, and screw everything else".
Sam looked at his brother, who's eyes were still glued to [Y/N]. He'd seen desire in Dean's eyes before when talking to attractive women, but this was more than just desire. Sam knew [Y/N] was special to Dean. He turned around to walk back towards his room, but stopped to pat Dean on the back and leaned in towards him. "Tell her how you feel", he said, not waiting for Dean's response and leaving the two of them alone.
Dean waited a moment longer, enjoying the sight in front of him, before he pushed himself off the doorway and stepped down into the kitchen. He walked up behind her and smirked to himself before leaning close to her ear and whispering "Boo". She yelped and twisted around to slap him in the face with a scrubbing brush and frowned as he laughed at her reaction.
"You scared the shit out of me, Dean... Jesus", she shook her head but gave him a small smile as she realised she'd just wet half of his face with her attack. "Sorry", she reached behind her to drop the brush into the sink and grab a towel, and lifted it up to dab his face gently. He studied her face as she did so, and he felt a warmth inside him as she concentrated on the task. She was about to turn around and put it back when he took it from her.
"You have suds on your forehead", he grinned as he started to wipe her face too, and he laughed as she blushed in embarrassment. He threw the towel behind her when he was done, and then hooked his thumb under her chin to tilt her face up towards him, looking to see that he hadn't missed anything. He tucked her hair behind her ear and let his hand stay on her cheek, feeling the warmth from her blush. She closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, humming quietly in content.
"How long were you watching me for?" She asked, opening her eyes and looking up at him. Now it was his turn to blush.
"You uh, knew I was there?"
"I'm a hunter, I'm always aware of my surroundings", she smiled up at him. "I don't mind, I like watching you too".
"You do?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
"Mhmm", she nodded. "I like watching when you work on Baby. You know, when you have your sleeves rolled up".
"Really? Why is that?"
"You're nice to look at", she said, looking up into his eyes.
"Yeah... yeah so are you", he said, lowering his hand from her cheek to her neck, wrapping around the back of it. They were standing very close together now, [Y/N] leaning against the counter and Dean's hips pressing into her stomach.
"What would you say if I asked you to kiss me?" She asked, her forwardness raising Dean's eyebrows.
"Well", he chuckled, "you already know I can't say no to you". She grinned up at him as he leaned down, and slowly but firmly, with purpose, pressed his lips to hers. They closed their eyes as [Y/N] wrapped her hands around his waist and Dean held her face between his hands. They fit together perfectly. He broke the kiss for a moment, keeping his eyes closed and leaning his forehead against hers. It was now or never. "[Y/N]... I uh.. I'm not really sure how-".
"I know", she cut him off. "I like you too". Relief flooded through him and he immediately kissed her again. It was like she transfered some of her carefree thoughts to him in that moment, as all he could think about was her, and how happy she made him. Sam was right, she was going to be the death of him, and he welcomed it.
The end
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