#spn reader insert
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The Husband Effect
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.”
#dean x reader#dean winchester#spn#supernatural#one shot#spn fanfiction#supernatural fanfiction#dean fanfiction#dean reader insert#spn reader insert#supernatural reader insert#dean winchester x#winchester#dean x#dean winchester x reader#supernatural one shot#spn one shot#dean one shot#dean winchester one shot#dean winchester supernatural
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"Hey! That's my shirt!" Dean said, watching you slip the soft cotton of his t-shirt on over your head. It swallowed up your frame and left you with slightly tousled hair.
You bit your bottom lip and grinned at him. "So?"
He sat up in bed, the sheet still swirled around his hips. You let your eyes wander over his strong chest. "So, that's why all my clothes keep disappearing. Do you have that green flannel too?"
"Maybe," you smiled innocently. "You like how they look on me anyway," you said, revolving in place so Dean could see just how his t-shirt brushed your thighs from all angles.
He sighed and clicked his tongue. "I can't argue with that... but I would like them back eventually."
You shrugged, carefree. "You can file your complaint in the suggestion box," you said cheekily.
Dean chuckled. "Oh yeah? Where's that?"
"Oh, it's that gray bin over there by my desk, next to the recycling can..."
"Alright, that's enough sass. Gimme back my shirt and get back in bed!" Dean demanded through more laughter, reaching for you. You tried to dart away, out of reach of his long arms, but he was too fast and soon tugged you back into the bed right on top of him.
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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
#supernatural#supernatural fanfic#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#spn fanfic#spn fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fluff#dean x reader#sam winchester#sam winchester fic#sam winchester x reader#sam winchester fluff#castiel fluff#protective dean#protective sam winchester#spn fic#spn reader insert#spn fluff#spn#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fic#supernatural fluff#supernatural comfort#dean winchester supernatural#supernatural imagine#supernatural reader insert#team free will
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Imagine... Dean Coming To You For Comfort
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.
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“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
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x you#dean x reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester fanfiction#spn reader insert#spn fanfiction#dean winchester x#dean x#spn#supernatural imagine#dean supernatural#supernatural#dean fluff#spn imagine#supernatural fanfiction
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Hunter Insert
Dean Winchester x Reader
Synopsis: You really didn’t mean to, but somehow you’d stumbled upon something called Tumblr - and in turn fanfiction. You may or may not get addicted to reader inserts featuring your favorite teammate. You may or may not get caught.
Warnings: Smut, second-hand embarrassment, adorable Dean, fanfiction cliches, fanfiction cliches turned on their heads, fluffy smut. It’s ok (and quite adorable, honestly) to laugh during sexytimes.
A/N: This is just a reworking of one of my most popular Bucky x reader fics! Tweaked for the Supernatural world and storyline. No Beta, so be kind!
You’d had a thing for Dean Winchester for longer than you could remember.
It probably all started when you met Sam Winchester at school. The tall goober took to you immediately. Your calming presence and warm smile lured him in and you became fast friends, giving Sam a bond he hadn’t felt in a long time. You were the only one he trusted enough to tell the truth about his family and their business. He spoke of his older brother with bucket loads of admiration, though he would never admit it to the man in question. When he told stories of their shenanigans back in the day, his eyes would light up but then his smile would fall just as quickly when he also recalled his father. You fell in love with the idea of a man glorious enough to make even displaced, ‘unwanted’ (his words, not yours), and jaded Sam smile like the kid he never got to be.
They say reality never lives up to the stories, but lord almighty were they wrong.
You first met Dean when the business of his dad’s disappearance was in full swing. A regular weekly movie night at Sam and Jessica’s place having turned tense when an unknown figure had broken in. You remember your eyes had wandered to his dark figure, speaking to Sam in hushed tones, head reeling as you realized this was the man who haunted your dreams. The infamous older brother and monster hunter, Dean Winchester.
You hadn’t believed in love at first sight, but the way his impossibly hazel eyes made your heart clench… Well, there was no denying this is exactly what was happening.
After Jessica had died you sat out the first leg of their search for their father, wanting to let them catch up. It wasn’t until after their father was long dead, and the apocalypse was well on its way that you joined back in - or rather, were dragged back in. Being the only woman currently in Sam’s life - though platonically, of course - the universe seemed to have it out for you and after having to save you from demons at least twice, the brothers claimed teaching you how to defend yourself and dragging you along with them would be safer than leaving you to whatever fate there was to be had. You even became an incredibly capable hunter. Though this was all after Sam had effectively ended the world with a demon lover who screwed him over, Dean died then came back thanks to the help of an angel - Castiel - who joined in your asinine little game, and the apocalypse really started. Because life with the Winchesters was never simple.
And through all your years together, there was always the looming reality - or rather, fantasy - of the Supernatural books by Chuck Shurley.
At first, the fans were harmless. There was the convention incident where reality and fantasy got a little too close, but Chuck assured you he was going to stop writing the books.
He lied, obviously.
Still, the fandom was mostly benign - and rather small, actually, with only some fanatics here and there. Although perhaps your favorite attention to come from the ‘fame’ was from Tumblr.
Folks from all over the world posted about the boys - or rather their ‘fictional’ counterparts. Artists’ work would pop up from time to time, usually of the boys, but yours were there - even if they were pretty scarce.
The art was amazing. Some funny comics, some lewd drawings, some gorgeous renders - all talent. But somehow, from Chuck’s descriptions of you and the boys, these artists rendered the most flattering, wonderful, and accurate works. It was incredibly humbling and awe-inspiring all at once. It even got you to start reading the books!
And you couldn’t blame them for the way the brothers were almost always shirtless or naked. They were like Greek statues, for God sake!
Your character was pretty popular, up until Chuck’s latest book where he started hinting at your little crush on the older brother. Thank God the boys never read them, or you’d be in deep shit.
Some users sided with you “she’s only human! And he is just so…well, look at him!” Lewd pictures were attached to that post. Others condemned you. “Seriously? How could he ever notice someone like her? #DeanDeservesBetter” “What’s Chuck thinking?”, “Worst. Ship. EVER!”
Those stung, you’d admit. But if growing up in the 21st century taught you anything, it’s that fans were only jealous and no one was safe. You could ignore the hate though.
What you couldn’t ignore was the fanfiction.
Oh goodness, the fanfiction.
What seemed to be most popular were the reader inserts with your gorgeous teammate, and you didn’t mind indulging in them one little bit. Some were sweet and cute, others left you dashing for a cold shower after. It stunned you that these writers were able to capture Dean’s mannerisms and personality so well! And these works were just so addicting!
It became a daily thing, finding a new fic, and reading it in the safety of your room where no one could see or judge. You read reader inserts, stories with original characters, and may or may not have found a guilty pleasure in a teensy bit of Destiel (who could deny the two perfect specimens would be hot as hell together?? But you would never tell them). You steered clear of the Dean x Lisa fics, though, like your life depended on it.
That was one torture you just couldn’t expose yourself to.
Then you stumbled over the one that changed everything. A new fic by one of your favorite authors that featured Dean (of course) and…you. It was a prompt you hadn’t read before, one where the two of you had to share a motel room with only one bed and things got hot and heavy. Your heart raced as you indulged in this fantasy, thinking of all the times you had to share a room with your teammates, though there was always more than one bed. You had never shared with Dean, as he usually bunked on the couch while you and Sam each bunked alone, but a girl can dream can’t she?
And dream you did. Especially with Dean’s constant flirting and sexual innuendos.
The story became a constant thought in the back of your mind and when Sam hangs back at the bunker and leaves you and Dean to take on a duet hunt together, you felt your heart stop. At the motel when checking in, you were given one room and your mind ran ramped. Had he read your phone’s history? Did he find your Tumblr? What if he had read the sinful story you’d found and wanted to live out the fantasy with you (another of your favorite prompts). The thoughts had you following silently behind your partner, heart racing as he smiled at you while his deft fingers unlocked the door. Steeling yourself as you walked inside behind him, you dropped your bags and spun around to find… 2 beds.
Oh.
Well, you supposed your dirty fantasies were just that; Fantasies.
----------
The night crawled on with no notable incidents -unfortunately-, and when it was finally time to call it a night, you both fell into your own beds.
Sleep evaded you for hours. The thought of that perfect body lying just feet away from you swam in the back of your mind. You could easily get up, crawl into bed with him, and make all your dreams come true. The fantasies that filled your head made you anything but tired.
Well, that, and the fact that Dean was snoring like a mother fucking buzz saw.
Your wide, dry eyes stared up at the ceiling as the loud rumbles filled the room. Dean had come a long way - with your help - and no longer had nightly episodes or memories of hell. Of course, they still happened on occasion, but they were a rare occurrence now. The hunter often found himself sleeping soundly through most nights, including this one.
He was the only one who would, it seemed, as you tossed and turned, doing your best to tune out the irritating sound. You put earplugs in, then headphones playing music, then even tracks of white noise. A forest, a stream, the ocean each one louder than the last. They all usually knocked you right out on a hunt.
But Dean snored over all of them.
You did your best to ignore it, you really did, but when he rolled over onto his back and started with a newfound volume, you’d decided you’d had enough.
“Dee.” You say lowly, hoping that he’ll sleep through the disturbance, but that his subconscious will hear his name and disturb his sleep just enough that he’ll shut the hell up.
The resounding snort proves that theory wrong.
“Dee!” You snap, louder now. Nothing. “Dean!”
A few moments pass…
Nothing…
Maybe it worked! Maybe-
Yeah, no, there he goes again.
Groaning loudly, you sit up and reach for your phone. Fine, if his hard-sleeping-ass can sleep through all that, then he could sleep with the light from your phone filling the room as well.
You open your favorite app, the blue screen greeting your tired eyes. Switching over from the homepage feed, you type ‘Dean x reader’ into the app’s search bar and your screen is immediately flooded with fic after fic. Pursing your lips, you decide to narrow your search. It doesn’t seem like you’ll be falling asleep any time soon, so what would the harm be? You let your thumbs fly over the screen’s keyboard.
Dean x reader smut.
Happy with your amendment, you hit ‘search’ once more and decide to take a walk on the wild side.
Immediately, your screen is flooded with sin and you bite back a smile. With your screen’s light as low as it’ll go, you click on the first story and settle into a comfortable position, facing away from Dean and the window as you immerse yourself in the fic.
You’ve probably been reading for about an hour or so when your bladder decides it’s time for you to get up. Sighing quietly, you leave your phone on your pillow, creeping through the silent room. As soon as you’ve taken care of business and washed up, you tiptoe back to bed. As you all but fall into the sheets, feeling like you can finally sleep, you realize your phone is not where you left it.
Hell, it’s not even in the bed.
Sitting up in fright, your eyes dart across the room and the sleeping man in the bed opposite yours. When you see the dimly glowing screen on the bedside table, you sigh in relief, telling yourself that your sleep-deprived brain probably just didn’t register you putting it away. Locking the screen with sleepy eyes, you drift off to sleep with visions of Dean trailing kisses down your neck flitting behind your eyes.
----------
The morning comes much too quickly for your taste, but you push yourself out of bed to face the day ahead.
You grab your bag quickly, packing up all your belongings as you and Dean prepare for your hunt. He’s uncharacteristically quiet this morning, barely meeting your eyes as you two embark from the motel room. Shrugging it off, you follow behind him and before you know it, the two of you are standing before the doors to a known haunted office building. It’s far too early for anyone to be there, so breaking in is easier than you’d expected and the two of you don’t run into any trouble as you make your way to the top floor.
Once there, you put your plan into motion, Dean taking a defensive position as you sneak into the manager’s office. You find the haunted artifact like you’ve done a million times before, and you note the sudden shift in the air once you touch it. It’s almost too quiet as you do your work, but by the way Dean hasn’t even flinched in his spot is a good indicator that things are - miraculously - still going as planned.
Finally, your work is done - the artifact turned to ash and the ghost successfully placated.
----------
You don’t allow yourself to breathe until you and Dean walk into yet another motel, this one only a few towns over from your rendezvous point with Sam. You’d spend the night here before making the remainder of the journey in the morning. Exhaustion hits you like a freight train as you trudge to the room, and you find yourself hoping against hope once more that your favorite fics may come to life. But when your eyes fall on two beds once more those hopes are dashed.
“You can take the king,” Dean says, and you suddenly realize those are the first words he’s spoken to you all day aside from the business of the break-in earlier. There hadn’t even been one famous Dean innuendo all day. “I’ll take the queen.”
You raise your eyebrow at that but don’t argue, even though you know damn well that the man who is almost twice your size probably needs the larger bed more than you do.
No more words are passed between the two of you as you prepare for bed, each taking their turn in the bathroom and shower before turning the lights out and settling down to sleep. It doesn’t take long for sleep to tickle at your eyelids, but it’s chased away almost instantly when Dean’s buzz saw snores kick to life again.
Groaning quietly, you toss a pillow at the human-grizzly bear before rolling over to grab your phone and headphones from the bedside table. He continues, of course, and you go to your favorite app once more. Using your phone this late at night and right before you sleep is bad, you know, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with that man rumbling only several feet from you.
You open a new fanfic, this one’s warnings staring you down as you read “smut, language, NSFW gifs” and you can’t fight back the smirk that plays on your lips. Again, you roll onto your side, back towards Dean, as you get to reading.
You know your breathing has picked up pace as you get past the fic’s casual banter between friends and the sexual tension sets in. Your legs squeeze together of their own accord, your chest warming in arousal as you envision Dean speaking to you the way he’s speaking to Y/N in this fic.
Within a few minutes - and a few lines - the sexual tension explodes into a full-on kiss, the smut slowly building as a result. You scroll quickly, devouring every detail before your fingers slow as the top of a gif comes into view. It’s sinful, to say the least. You watch the way the man’s hips swivel into his lover’s, her head thrown back as he buries his head against her throat and himself deep into her.
Your lip is back between your teeth and you can’t bring yourself to scroll on just yet. Instead, you let yourself take every detail in as the image loops, again and again, your arousal growing with every second. Oh, what you wouldn’t give to have Dean moving against you that way. His heavy breath fanning over your collarbone as he grinds against your most sensitive skin. You have to bite your tongue so as to not moan into the silent room.
Wait…
Silent.
You realize at that moment that the violent snores from the other side of the room have died completely, silence overtaking their absence. A silence that has you tentatively glancing over your shoulder and only to immediately regret it.
Even in the dark, your eyes find the hazel ones that are only inches away. Hazel eyes that are damn near swallowed with lust.
Oh.
Oh, Jesus.
“Whatcha lookin’ at, Kiddo?” His deep voice rumbles in the quiet room, sending your heart galloping as you jump up to sitting, desperately burying your phone against your breast in an effort to hide its contents from him.
“Nothing.” You say, your voice scarcely above a whisper. You don’t miss the smirk on his face and frantically reevaluate the past several minutes in your brain. When had he woken up? When had he snuck up behind you? How much had he read over your shoulder?
“Doesn’t look like nothing to me.” He says, teeth dragging over his lower lip and it seems for a moment that he’s debating on whether or not he wants to take this any further. When he speaks again though, he makes his choice very clear. “Looks like you’re being a very bad girl.”
The room is so fucking quiet that the lump that you gulp down is painfully audible.
He didn’t just say that…did he? You chuckle humorlessly, trying desperately to break the obvious tension and play off of the joke he is so obviously playing on you. Dean makes comments like that all the time. That’s just how he is with you! Any moment now he’ll chuckle like he always does.
But then he doesn’t laugh with you. Just stares as he scoots closer on his knees until his frame is right against the bed, pulling you by your thighs until he’s encasing you - palms on either side of your legs that are now thrown over the side of the bed.
You’reDreamingYou’reDreamingYou’reDreaming…
“That…that was too far, wasn’t it?” He suddenly asks, rocking his weight back on his heels. Bless him, he looks so uncharacteristically shy and you must look completely dumbfounded. He waits with bated breath as you open and close your mouth uselessly, desperately searching for words.
Finally, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind.
“Did you just quote the fanfiction I read last night?” OH MY GOD, you mentally scream. Why the fuck would you expose yourself like that?? What if he just thought of that himself??
But then what if he didn’t? Because that line had definitely stuck out to you when reading the night before…and suddenly, you remember why it had. That was the last line before you left your phone to go to the bathroom. The last line you’d read with tired eyes before you set your phone down, unlocked, on your pillow and - ohmygod!
“You read that!?” You screech, gripping your phone tighter. You gasp so hard you damn near swallow your tongue. “You put my phone on the bedside table! Dean, you totally snooped while I was peeing!” Alright, you could’ve kept that bit to yourself.
He’s biting that damn lip again, and you know he can tell that’s exactly where your eyes are zeroed in on.
“Maybe?” He says, voice small as he admits his secret to you. “I didn’t mean to! I just…I woke up when you shut the bathroom door, and the screen was shining right in my face - I just-I got up to lock it so it wouldn’t bother me, but then I saw what you were looking at and…” He clears his throat. “Y/N, I…were you reading porn…about me?”
Your face is no doubt a thousand degrees of embarrassment.
“It’s not porn!! It’s fanfiction, and-”
“It literally talks about me fucking you.” He deadpans, eyebrows raised. “In explicit detail. It’s porn.”
You’re silent for a few moments, staring him down as you wait for him to back down.
Of course, he doesn’t.
“Ok, fine! It’s porn, are you happy?” You huff, crossing your arms and finally ditching your phone to the pillow beside you. A sudden terrifying thought causes you to freeze. “So…are you going to tell Sam?”
“Why the fuck would I tell him?!”
“I don’t know!”
“Do you honestly think I’d tell him something so personal?!”
“I don’t know!” You repeat, floundering as you toss your hands up before crossing them again in a pout. “It’s embarrassing. You know I tend to jump to the worst-case scenarios…”
“Y/N, I would never out you like that.” You would have to be blind to miss the way his eyes drag over you in your nightclothes, and you are suddenly very aware of your lack of bra and just how cold it is in the room.
He seems to notice too, his eyes zeroing in on your breasts and the way your nipples are pressing against the soft fabric encasing them.
“Do you…do you want me like that?” He asks, his voice dropping back into the husky tone it had been before his awkward detour.
“No, Dee, I was just reading porn of you for the fuck of it.” He chuckles at that, his palms coming to rest on your thighs as the embarrassment between you two eases - making way for a choking tension.
“Really? Ah, well, then I guess I can just go back to bed, then.”
“Don’tyoudare!” The words are out before you can stop them, but at this point, you don’t much care.
“Oh? Then what should I do?” His hazel eyes are dark, gazing at you from below thick lashes as his hands creep higher up your thighs, pushing your oversized t-shirt up to expose the soft cotton covering you from his gaze. “Should I do this?”
Your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening as he leans forward, lips pressing against the soft skin on the inside of your thigh.
“Oh, please.” You beg, arms falling at your sides to support you as his mouth grows closer to where you really want him. Only he doesn’t quite reach, his eyes twinkling playfully at you.
“Words, Y/N.” He grumbles lowly, splayed hands pushing your legs wider to give himself better access to your heat.
“Dean, please-” A squeal escapes you when his teeth drag across your hip bone. “Put your mouth on me.”
Nothing you’ve ever read could’ve prepared you for the way Dean touches you.
He moves slowly, his palms running from your inner thighs to behind your knees to pull your legs over his shoulders. The movement has your stomach flipping, eyes never leaving his as he drags his tongue up the material hiding your core from him.
He chuckles at your moan, eyes batting as he presses the point of his tongue against your clit beneath your panties. To be honest, you’re not sure which one of you is enjoying this more what with the way his fingers tighten against your legs, his eyes closing in concentration as he laps at you.
In your wildest dreams, you never thought Dean would be touching you like this - at least not outside of the fiction you were reading. But, oh, is he touching you - playing you, more like it, plucking your strings until you’re practically singing for him.
You could cum just like this, light pets of his tongue teasing your sensitive skin, but then he’s tugging the panties from your form, diving right back into your bare skin and you’re keening at the contact, your fingers knotting in his long hair. He groans in response to your moans, forearm flung lazily across your hips to keep you still as he wreaks havoc on you.
You open your mouth, ready to chastise him but the words instantly make way for cries as he finally swipes his tongue through your folds - fucking you with his mouth as he watches your form writhe.
“God, you taste amazing.” He moans, and you have to hold back a giggle. “What’s so funny?” Do you admit that you’d read him saying those very words far too many times to keep count?
But then he’s pulling away, leaving you whimpering at the precipice of release and the sight of his strong torso being revealed to your ends any thoughts you may have had. Especially when he reaches down and rids you of your own shirt, kissing across your collar bones once they’re exposed.
“You got any protection?” He asks suddenly, teeth scraping at your throat and you are suddenly aware of the fact that this is real life, not a fic, and wow you’d lost count of how many bareback smuts you’d read.
Not that the thought of Dean cumming inside you wasn’t the hottest thing ever, but the idea of pregnancy was something you didn’t even want to entertain at the moment.
So, begrudgingly, you pushed him off gently, bending down to rifle through your bag - hey, it never hurts to be prepared. You roll your eyes at his chuckle as you bend over, shaking your exposed backside at him - where he has taken your seat on the mattress - before rising to hand him the small, metallic square.
He toys with it for a few seconds, watching as you stand with a lip tugged gently between your teeth and your eyes flicker to the semi-hard shaft against his thighs. Long fingers enter your line of sight, coming to cup himself, stroking a few times as you watch him.
“See something you like, baby?” He asks, free hand coming up to run his thumb against your lips. You nod slowly, shivering at the new pet name, eyes never tearing from where he teases his cock. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, Dean’s thumb accidentally catching where it had been against your lips and then he’s growling and pulling you to him.
Your lips crash together, a flash of pain as your teeth clack momentarily, but you’re far too lost in Dean’s intoxicating proximity to care. He seems to share the sentiment as your hands weave through his hair, pulling him closer as he moans and strokes himself faster before you straddle his strong thighs.
You consider grinding down against the taut muscle momentarily, but then Dean’s rolling the condom down his shaft, his knuckles brushing your folds as he does and all you want is for him to fill you up to the brim.
The desperation is clear on your face, wrapped in hooded eyes and a deep flush as you inhale deeply every time Dean’s knuckles brush you.
“Oh, my god!” You huff, getting ever so impatient. He chuckles at your tone, tugging you higher on his lap so that - finally - you’re aligned. A brief moment passes as you two eye each other hesitantly, your nerves on fire as you consider what it is you’re about to do.
You’re about to fuck one of your partners, one of your best friends…the man you’ve been fantasizing about for years.
“Ready?” He asks softly, testing the waters as he runs the head of his cock through your lips. Any hesitation you may have had melts with the shiver that travels your spine, and then some when Dean growls as you bare your nails into his shoulder blades.
“Dean, I swear to god, if you don’t fu-ck me!” You squeal the tail end of your sentence, Dean’s own groan disappearing into the skin of your shoulder as he slides home. Pain and pleasure flood your senses and suddenly you are highly aware of just how long it’s been.
“Shiiit,” Dean sighs at the tight fit, his fingers digging into the skin of your hips and holding you still as he struggles to hold himself off.
It’s been a while for him, too.
“Jesus, you’re tight.” He hisses between his teeth, his brow as scrunched as yours no doubt is at the moment.
“And you’re huge.” He laughs then, the movement of his abs against your sensitive skin enough to have you sighing. “I, uh, think you’re good to move.” You say quietly, testing this theory with a slight brush forward of your hips. When delicious friction reaches your clit at the action you moan lowly. “Oh, yeah. Very good to move.”
And move he does, giving you a few moments as he slowly builds up the pace before falling back and letting you take the reigns. Your hands find his strong pecs as you fall forward at the sudden shift, and a shit-eating grin crosses your face. Dean misses this, however, as his eyes are screwed shut with pleasure.
“Fuck!” He groans when you begin to rut against him, dragging your clit against his adonis belt as his cock head catches against your insides perfectly. He doesn’t seem to mind this change, panting openly and quite vocally. Well, that is until his hands find your thighs and hold on tight. “Shit, slow down, baby…I don’t know how long I can last if you keep that up.”
You’re about to apologize, a flush very evident on your skin before Dean is manhandling you onto your back, your legs cast wide in his grasp.
“Let’s slow things down a little.” He teases, kissing your nose as you giggle and let him set the pace.
When he does, it’s dizzyingly slow, his teeth dragging against your skin as do his fingertips and after a few minutes of sinfully slow rocks of his hips, he is very quickly stringing you towards the edge.
“Dean,” You whimper, your walls beginning to flutter around him. The groan that milks from his chest is nothing short of sexy and you return one of your own. His name becomes a chant on your lips as pleasure rushes through your bloodstream, your nails digging into his taut back and after a few more thrusts of his own, he’s emptying inside the condom.
The high fades slowly, your skin buzzing in sated pleasure as a lazy smile takes place on your face. Dean is quiet, almost shy as he retreats to the restroom to clean himself and dispose of the condom. You snicker quietly to yourself at the thought that this detail is often left out of the fics you read, but the pleasant ache between your legs certainly isn’t.
“Well,” He says as he returns, slipping under the covers with you. As you shift, something digs into your side and when you bring the offending object above the covers do you realize that your phone had remained in the sheets that whole time. You hand it off to him as he tugs you closer, waving him to put it on the bedside table. “Aren’t you glad I decided to snoop?” He teases as he takes the contraption from you.
“Yeah, Yeah, Dee. But not as glad as I am that we can save on rooms by just booking us one bed from now on!”
You both chuckle at the jest, your giggles soon dying into labored breathing as your energy drains quickly against the warmth of Dean’s body wrapped around yours. Your eyes drift shut of their own accord, not noticing how Dean hesitates at placing your phone on the charger…again.
“Hey, baby?” He asks hesitantly, his eyes widening as he scrolls through your Tumblr feed and exposed to all sorts of sin.
“Hmm?” You hum, sleep tickling at your mind. That is until your eyes fly open wide at his following question.
“What’s Destiel?”
FIN
#Winchester#Winchester fanfiction#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#spn#spn fanfic#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#hunter reader#dean winchester fanfiction#supernatural smut#dean winchester smut#spn reader insert#reader insert#dean Winchester reader insert#lena writes
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Hii
I was wondering if you could so something with a dean x reader where one of them gets attacked by a djinn and their fantasy involves the other person?
djinn - d.w
pairing; Dean x fem!reader
synopsis; A Djinn's coma causes Dean to come to a realisation
warnings; none
notes; Idk how i feel about the ending of this one
masterlist
Dean groaned as he squinted at the light snaking through the gap in the curtains. Throwing an arm over his eyes he turned pulling the covers up with him. How much did he drink last night? He hadn’t had a hangover this bad in years.
Deciding sleep was the best idea he pulled the cover higher and closed his eyes. The room was quiet for a few minutes as he lay still, his head still throbbing.
“Dean. Come on you need to get up. You're going to be late.” Someone reached over and pulled the cover down despite his protests. A hand shook his shoulder briefly before he felt a dip in the bed. The hand which had previously been in his hair moved upwards and began carding through his hair slowly. “Dean, come on.”
Dean frowned slightly. He knew that voice. “Y/n?” He opened his eyes slightly and stared at the person beside him in slight shock. You smiled at him, your hand continuing its movements. “You need to stop drinking at night.” Your voice was still quiet but there was a hard edge to it. “You promised you’d stop.”
What was going on? This wasn’t normal…at all. Sure you’d been on his case about his drinking habits for ages but you’d never been this nice about it. Normally you’d just make some snarky comment about how he was drinking himself to an early grave before pushing him to bed.
He rubbed at his eyes sitting up slowly. He slowly took in his surroundings as his body seemed to finally wake up. This wasn't the motel. His eyes darted around the room for a moment before landing on you. You looked…different.
You looked happier. The stress lines which seemed to be prematurely forming were gone and those dark bags which seemed a constant under your eyes were gone. Satisfied that he was up you stood from the bed. “You have an hour till you need to go.”
Dean frowned clearing his throat. The headache seemed to be subsiding. “Go where?” At his words, your frown deepened. A look of concern crossed your face. “The garage. You said you would cover a shift for Bobby remember?”
Dean quickly nodded. “Yeah, yeah sorry just not with it this morning.” You shook your head before leaning down to press a quick kiss to his lips before turning and walking out of the room.
Dean felt his cheeks heat up at the affection. While he couldn’t lie that he enjoyed it, the action also caused warning alarms in his head.
You and Dean weren’t a thing. You’d always just been his best friend nothing more. He slowly stood and walked over to the drawers pushed up against the wall and pulled a few open till eventually he found his own stuff. He’d never seen this house before in his life yet as he looked around the room it seemed that he had lived here for a while. The bedroom alone had pictures dotted around, things he had no memory of.
The last thing he remembered before waking up here was being in a barn on a hunt with Sam and the real you. He rubbed his neck as he racked his brain. What had you all been hunting?
Suddenly it hit him. A Djinn. “Fuck. Fuck.” He kicked the leg of the bed in frustration. That son of a bitch had managed to get the jump on him. He needed to get out of this dreamland fast.
After calming himself down and getting dressed Dean made his way through the house. As he’d gotten dressed he’d been thinking of a plan. He had to wake up his actual body somehow and then get out of the barn. So far though he had no idea how to do that.
His only hope was that you and Sam would realise that he’d been grabbed and go after him.
After a few moments, he found himself standing in the doorway to a small kitchen. At the sound of his steps (fake), you turned to face him. “There’s coffee in the pot.” You gestured to the counter beside you before you went back to cooking.
Was this really his fantasy? Yeah sure, maybe his feelings for you weren’t exactly platonic but he didn’t realise they went this far. While he knew he had to wake up part of him didn’t want to. For the first time in years, you looked calm. You seemed the happiest he’d seen as you moved around the kitchen, humming softly.
“So, um.” He cleared his throat as he leaned against the counter. “Any plans for today?” He cursed himself internally at how awkward he was being but he had to at least act like he had an idea of what was going on.
You pursed your lips for a moment before coming over to him. You stopped in front of him before speaking. “Not much. Probably just more wedding planning I guess.” You shrugged not noticing his expression. “Oh yeah, I was gonna ask if you were happy with the quote for the venue. They need a response by tomorrow.” You stepped back before reaching for two plates from behind him.
Dean stood still as he digested what you had just dropped on him. You were getting married. To him.
“Uh yea. Yeah, it was nice.” He nodded. You smiled as you turned with two plates. “Great I’ll call them later.”
Dean followed behind you as you walked over to a small table. He was getting married.
What else was different in this ‘fantasy’
You frowned stepping over a pile of you didn’t even know what. “He has to be here somewhere.” You whispered as Sam shone the flashlight around the old barn.
“Over there” Sam shined the light to a corner of the barn. You could just make out the shape of a person strung up. You and Sam had managed to get rid of the Djinn relatively easily, the hard part was finding his hideout. The creature hadn’t exactly been willing to talk.
You’d only managed to figure it out due to Dean mentioning to you before he left that he was going to a barn a few miles from the motel.
You both rushed over and began to untie him. “Dean! Hey Dean.” Sam shook his brother harshly for a moment. Dean let out a quiet groan before his eyes slowly opened. “Wha-where.” He stumbled over his words for a moment before rubbing at his eyes.
Y/n crouched down beside Sam and reached out to place a hand on Dean’s arm. “Are you ok?”
Dean nodded. He slowly pulled himself to his feet stumbling slightly. You quickly reached out to steady him. Dean’s eyes flew down to where your hand rested on his arm.
His heart picked up slightly at the touch before he cleared his throat and looked back up to where you were looking back with a concerned expression. He cleared his throat trying to push the woozy feeling in his stomach away.
As the three of you walked back to the car he found his gaze falling on your left hand. Dean had never been one for marriage or even crushes for that matter but for the first time in his life, he felt himself longing for something which seemed so far out of reach.
#supernatural#dean winchester#sam winchester#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester headcanon#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x female!reader#spn reader insert#spn fanfic#spn imagine#dean winchester fluff#sam winchester x reader#.mine#.spn#.dean winchester#.req
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Fur and Fate
Requested: @deans-spinster-witch
Tag List: @jc-winchester @mrsjenniferwinchester @perpetualabsurdity @antisocialcorrupt @heavenlyackles @anixiiee @jackles010378 @suckitands33 @k-slla @alternativeprincess @spnbaby-67 @cevansbaby-dove @cutedisneygrl @hzllxhoundxx @kmc1989 (I have my tag lists all messed up lol I'm very sorry if I missed you!)
Warnings: PTSD, Violence, Language, Service Dog Use, Trauma, Demonic Possession
switching point of view will be indicated with italics
*I just want to state a disclaimer that I am not an expert on PTSD or Service Dog Use, I did consult with someone who knows more than I do in order to write it to be more real/fair representation!
I took a deep breath trying to calm my erratic heart rate. I stared at the hooded figure walking in the grocery store parking lot. I felt a nudge against my hand, then another, a little more forceful this time.
I looked down just in time to see my service dog Sammy nudging me with his nose, trying to get me to walk away from the window. He puts his paw on my leg, trying to give me a forceful push.
I let Sammy lead me away from the window to one of the aisles. I once again tried to calm my breathing. I was trying to remember the mindfulness exercises that my therapist had taught me, but I was already spiraling at this point.
I shut my eyes tight trying to block out the images of that fateful night.
"goodnight mommy." I whispered as she tucked me in.
"goodnight my love."
"mommy?" I called before she could leave.
"yes my love?"
"when's daddy coming home?"
At eight years old I didn't understand that Daddy left for good and he wasn't coming home. He didn't love us anymore.
"I don't know my love, let's just try to get some rest." Mom said kissing my forehead once more.
I pulled the blanket up to my chin, giving my mom one last smile. I saw her switch on my night light as she exited my room. I never had a problem falling asleep. I was out within minutes, dreaming of princesses and unicorns.
I jumped hearing a loud thud coming from downstairs. I sat up rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.
"mommy?" I called out in the darkness.
I heard more thumping coming from downstairs. I got up, grabbing my unicorn night light, before descending down the staircase.
"mommy?" I called again.
I walked in to the living room, seeing a man standing over my mom. He wore a black hooded sweatshirt so I couldn't see his face.
"baby run!" I heard mommy call out weakly.
I couldn't run.
I felt like my little legs were glued to the spot.
I watched in horror as the hooded figure stabbed my mom with a knife. I felt blood splatter on my face as the figure yanked the knife from her body before plunging it back in. In an instant mommy was thrown against the wall, and her body became engulfed in flames.
"mommy no!" I cried.
I'll never forget what happened after, and to this day, nobody believes what I saw.
I backed up in fear, my back hitting the bookshelf. I watched the hooded figure turn around, giving me a chance to look at his face. I tried to get a good look at him, but the only thing I saw were his eyes.
Black, and not just the irises.
No, the entire eye was pitch black.
He stared at me giving me a sickly sweet smile.
"I'll be back for you."
Those were the last words I heard before the figure disappeared.
I sat frozen in fear until I was being pulled out of the house by police officers.
I knew my mommy was gone.
I lived every day in fear of the man, his words haunting me.
I was asked to come to the police station to make an id on the suspect police were sure committed the crime, but it wasn't any of the men they brought in.
I didn't see black eyes.
Of course nobody believed the testimony of a terrified eight year old.
Mom's case ran cold, and was eventually forgotten about altogether.
Not by me though.
I felt like any day the man would be back for me.
I got the hell out as soon as I turned sixteen.
I've been living on my own since.
I eventually met a friend who told me to seek out therapy.
PTSD is what they call it. It stands for Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I was the poster child for it, it seems.
I witnessed my mother being murdered by a black eyed man.
I couldn't go out anywhere without feeling like I was going to run in to the man with black eyes. I feared for my life every second of every day.
I felt exceptionally triggered any time I saw a person with their hood up.
I felt paws digging in to my leg again. Sammy was pushing on me, alerting me that I needed to sit down so he could help me. I sat down, leaning my back against the shelf. Sammy climbed on to my lap, and leaned in to my chest, putting pressure on me. I wrapped my arms around him, squeezing tightly.
I worked on controlling my breathing, reminding myself that I am safe. It took awhile, but I eventually calmed myself down with deep breathing exercises. Sammy, noticing I was much calmer now licked my face before climbing off my lap.
I got up stretching my muscles. I was always so exhausted after an episode.
I just wanted to pay for my groceries at this point and go home. I grabbed my basket that I had dropped in my episode. I went to turn around, accidentally clamoring in to a hard chest.
"oh gosh, I'm so sorry." I heard a deep voice say.
I looked up, my eyes landing on the most beautiful man I had ever seen.
Green eyes pierced my own, as I gazed at his facial features. Freckles dusted his nose and cheeks. He licked his lips, bringing my attention to them.
"no, I'm sorry I wasn't watching where I was going." I managed to squeak out.
I was weary of most people, but this man seemed gentle, and harmless. I couldn't deny there was something about him that just seemed safe.
"are you okay?" the mystery man asks.
I chuckled softly.
I don't think I even knew the meaning of being okay.
I haven't been okay in awhile.
I was about to respond when Sammy went over to the mystery man, sniffing him, before nudging his hand. Sammy was specifically trained not to do this when he was working, but for some reason he really wanted attention from the mystery man.
"well hi buddy." the man said leaning down and scratching under Sammy's chin.
Sammy's tail wagged with delight. It seems that Sammy thought he was harmless too.
"I'm sorry, he doesn't ever do that, he's trained not too." I said, my cheeks going red.
He probably thought I had no control over my service dog.
"oh, should I not be petting him? I apologize, I didn't know." the man said standing up quickly.
"no, no its okay, he likes you." I laughed as I watched Sammy lay down so the stranger could scratch his belly.
"well I would love to know his name, and yours?" the man asked, once again giving Sammy the attention he craved.
"I'm (y/n), and this is Sammy." I said.
I watched the strangers eyes light up with amusement.
"Sammy huh? I have a Sammy too."
"you have a dog named Sammy?" I asked.
"well he's sort of like a dog, doesn’t sit or stay very well." the stranger answered, making me confused.
"Dean, what the hell I've been...." I heard a voice start to say but he tapered off when he saw me.
"meet my Sammy." the stranger, who I'm now learning is named Dean says with a laugh.
I saw the other man roll his eyes in annoyance.
"Hi, I'm Sam." He said shaking my head.
"(y/n)." I answered returning his hand shake.
Sammy didn't brush against his hand for a pet. It seems that he only did it for Dean.
"I should uh be going gentleman, sorry again for bumping in to you Dean." I spoke grabbing Sammy's leash.
I never stayed in one place for too long, it was far too risky.
"It was my fault." Dean was quick to defend.
Sammy nudged Dean once more earning a scratch behind the ear.
"see ya Sammy, take care of your mom." Dean said giving Sammy one last pet.
I smiled at the pair, heading to the front to pay for my groceries. I was relieved to see that the hooded figure was gone. I put my groceries up to scan, glancing around furiously at my surroundings.
It was something ingrained in me to do. It was my flight or fight response.
I had to make sure I had a way out of every situation.
I took note of all of the emergency exits.
I handed the cashier my money, quickly collecting the bags in my arms. I grabbed Sammy's leash heading towards my pickup truck. I saw Sammy stop abruptly, his hackles rising to signify something wasn't quite right. I glanced around the parking lot, but nothing caught my eye.
"what is it boy?" I panicked.
Sammy started to whine, putting his head in the crook of my knee to push me towards the truck. I felt my heart start to race. I quickly got in the seat, allowing Sammy to jump in beside me. As I started the truck I saw a figure illuminated in the headlights. I felt fear course through my body.
It seemed like the figure was staring directly at me.
I put a hand in Sammy's fur trying to calm my heart rate.
I saw the figure step closer, the light illuminating more of it's features. I felt my heart sink to the bottom of my chest.
Black Eyes.
"no, no." I started to cry.
He had found me.
I jumped as a hand started banging on my window. I snapped my head to the side seeing Dean standing there. I quickly turned my head back to where the black eyed man stood but he was now gone.
"(y/n) are you okay?" Dean asked opening the door.
I felt the air leave my lungs as I stared at the empty spot. I felt like my chest was burning from the lack of oxygen. Sammy noticing my breathing become heavier made his way to my lap, putting pressure against my chest. I dug my fingers in to his fur trying to calm my erratic heart rate.
"you saw it before didn't you?" Dean asked, voice laced with concern.
"my.mom." I managed to choke out between heavy breaths.
Dean ran a hand down my back trying to help me calm myself. I would've thought it a sweet gesture if I wasn't completely losing my shit right now.
I didn't know what got me more scared, the fact that it found me or the fact that it was real.
I wasn't crazy, at least I got that closure.
I buried my face in Sammy's fur going through my deep breathing exercises once again trying to calm myself. It felt like hours but I was finally able to slow my breathing down to an even rhythm. I looked over to see Dean still sat with me.
"that thing killed my mom, and now I think it wants to kill me." I voiced my concerns.
Dean gave me a look, like he knew more than he was letting on.
"it's called a demon." Dean spoke.
A demon? I didn't know what I expected but it certainly wasn't that.
"like one of those things from hell?" I scoffed.
"exactly that, look I know it sounds crazy but I can help you." Dean said.
"you're right you sound completely crazy." I growled looking at him.
I thought Dean looked gentle and safe but in reality I didn't know him at all. He could be insane for all I know. He was sounding that way with all this talk about demons.
"look you don't live in the world you think you do, okay, there are things out there, things that you wouldn't think exist but I promise you they do." Dean said.
"Dean I really can't do this right now." I said trying my best to leave the situation.
"you know in your heart that this is something more, you just don't want to believe it." Dean said adamantly.
"please, let me go." I cried.
"that's why you told the police a black eyed monster killed your mom." Dean spoke not daring to look me in the eyes.
"how the hell do you know that?" I growled, suddenly fearful of this stranger.
"I read the police report." Dean said looking suddenly guilty.
He's read about me.
He knew me.
I thought running in to him was fate, but that wasn't the case at all.
It was planned.
"go to hell Dean." I spit at him.
Dean sighed backing away from the truck. I slammed the truck door, leaning my head on the steering wheel. I sobbed, feeling like the world was slowly closing in on me.
Dean was right.
I knew this was something more.
But a demon?
No.
It can't be.
Can it?
Plus who the hell even was this guy?
He read my file.
Was he a detective?
Why help now?
Surely detectives don't believe in demons.
I pulled out of the parking lot, wanting nothing more than to get the hell out.
Dean
"way to go genius why'd you bring up the police report?" Sam asked stepping out of the shadows.
"I don't know, I was trying to help." I said running a hand through my hair.
I didn't know why this girl was having such an effect over me.
Maybe I did.
"Dean, we had a plan why didn't you stick to it?" Sam grumbled.
"you didn't exactly follow through to your part either, considering the bastard got away." I growled at my baby brother.
"Dean, I get you want to help this girl but..." Sam started but I cut him off.
"Sam, that's just it, you don't get it! I watched mom die, okay, I know the pain she feels every single day. I watched her die and there was nothing I could do." I yelled, feeling the emotions wash over me.
"Dean you were just a kid, what were you supposed to do?"
"I couldn't do anything then, but I can do something now."
Sam nodded his head in understanding.
I had a good feeling this demon could lead us to the yellow eyed demon that killed mom.
I expected to meet her, I planned it.
I knew she could help us catch this thing.
I didn't expect her to tug on my heart.
Sam and I hopped back in the impala driving back to the motel. I couldn't shake this feeling like something bad was going to happen. Although lately I felt that way all the time. It was like I was living in a nightmare, and no matter how hard I fought I just couldn't bring myself out of it. I threw my jacket down angrily.
"I feel like this bastard is always a step ahead of us." I growled, crashing on to the uncomfortable bed.
Sam was about to respond, but we heard a light scratching on the door.
"what could that be?" Sam wondered aloud.
"one way to find out." I said grabbing my pistol.
Sam grabbed his, slowly opening the door.
I was shocked to find Sammy. I looked around, noticing (y/n) wasn't with him. I felt fear in the pit of my stomach. Sammy was whining, circling around.
"I think he wants us to follow him." I said to Sam.
Sam gave me a look of concern before nodding his head. Sammy started to walk away, Sam and I hot on his trail. He led us down the road to a worn down apartment complex. I instantly noticed her truck. It was still running, and her groceries were on the ground.
"Dean this doesn't look good." Sam said noticing the scene too.
Sammy whined, pawing at my leg. I bent down wrapping my arms around him.
"I promise boy I'll find her." I said giving him a hug.
Sammy wiggled out of my arms, going towards a door and starting to paw at it.
"I don't like this Dean." Sam warned as I walked towards the door.
I ignored him, hesitantly trying the handle. It was unlocked.
I swung the door open, but the room was pitch black, leaving no visibility.
"Dean." I heard her voice say.
"I'm here, where are you?" I asked whipping around in the darkness.
I heard a sickening chuckle as the room illuminated. (y/n) stood in the corner, but I could tell it wasn't (y/n).
"leave her body now." I growled, as her once beautiful colored eyes flashed black.
"I don't know what you're talking about Dean? It's me."
"leave her body." I growled once again.
"or what? I mean you can't kill me, no because that would mean she'd die too, and you don't want that do you Dean?" the demon taunted.
the demon was right.
If I tried anything she'd die too.
"besides, I can help you."
"yeah like I'm stupid enough to trust you." I growled as the demon possessing her body started to circle me.
"I mean if you don't want to know why your mom died I guess that's your loss. I can tell you though, this one, her daddy made a deal he couldn't cash, and would you believe he traded the lives of his wife and his daughter, what kind of a man does that? I mean your mother wasn't innocent either."
I felt my blood boiling in anger.
"you don't know what the hell you're talking about." I spit.
I tensed as the demon came up, using her hand to rest on my cheek.
"oh but I do."
I grabbed her by the throat, pinning her to the wall. It hurt me to do, but I had to remind myself she wasn't herself right now.
"shut up, and let her go." I growled.
"you know you're hot when you're angry."
In a split second she had her hand on my throat throwing me to the ground. I landed with a thud, causing her to laugh.
"oh Dean this is just too easy."
"where's the yellow eyed demon." I growled.
"in a place you'll never find."
"so he's sending you to do his dirty work, is that it?" I growled.
"kind of like that, but we all have our own personal vendettas."
I could see out of the corner of my eye Sam drawing a devil's trap. I needed to lure her out there.
"let her go, or else."
"or else what, you can't kill me, I thought we were past this."
It was now or never.
I stood up slowly as she paced around me.
"you're right, I can't kill you, but that doesn't mean I can't trap you."
As soon as the words left my lips, I tackled her body out of the door, right in to the trap. I moved out of the way as the demon stood up angrily, unable to move.
"what did you do to me?"
"it's called a devils trap, and now we're going to make you leave whether you want to or not." Sam growled.
I started reciting the latin words that would exercise the demon from her body. I felt a pang of guilt as she thrashed around with each word I spoke.
I spoke the final line, and the demon left her body, causing her to collapse to the ground. Sam took the book from my hands reciting the next part of the exorcism to send the demon back to hell where it belongs. I ran into the devils trap picking up her body, just as Sam spoke the last line sending the demon back to hell.
"Sam get me a cold washcloth." I yelled cradling her limp body.
Sam ran inside the apartment, returning quickly with what I asked for. I put it to her forehead dabbing lightly while shaking her awake.
"come on, wake up." I pleaded shaking her harder.
Reader
"I won't take your life, just your soul."
I could only remember those words being spoken before I awoke with a jolt. I touched my body making sure I was still alive, and most importantly still me. I glanced up seeing the concerned eyes of Dean.
"Dean?"
"Oh thank god you're back." He sighed in relief.
I tried to sit up but it felt like my joints were on fire.
"Easy, you'll be sore for awhile, I uh kind of had to tackle you." Dean said rubbing his neck nervously before helping me sit up.
"what the hell happened to me?" I asked.
Dean explained everything.
Demons, possession, exorcisms.
It would have been pretty unbelievable if I hadn't just lived through it. He explained the deal my father made.
A deal with the devil.
I couldn't believe that my mom was gone because of him. I just hoped wherever he was, he was paying too.
Dean explained that he saw his mom die at the hands of a demon too. I felt my heart sink as he explained that he's spent all this time looking for the thing that killed her.
I gazed at him, seeing the broken person that lay underneath this tough facade.
Dean watched his mom die too. He was just as broken as I was.
I put my hand to his cheek gently caressing it with my thumb.
"Dean, you saved me."
"I had a little help." Dean said glancing towards the truck.
Sam opened the door, allowing Sammy to run out into my arms. He was wagging his tail like crazy, licking over my face.
"I missed you too boy." I smiled hugging him tightly.
Sammy jumped on Dean causing Dean to chuckle. He reached down scratching him.
"I guess it was a little bit of fur and fate." I whispered biting my lip.
"fur and fate huh?" Dean whispered, suddenly much closer than before.
"I didn't really believe in fate, but then again I didn't really believe in demons either." I said.
"and what now?"
"now, I believe I want you to kiss me." I whispered taking in his intoxicating scent.
"I can do that." Dean whispered leaning in.
I don't know if it was fur or fate, but whatever it was, I was thankful.
and for the first time since I was eight years old, I felt okay.
Author Note:
I'm sorry it took me so long to finish! I really hope you liked it! I'm forever grateful for all the love!
xoxoxo
Liv
#dean winchester#dean winchester x you#dean winchester imagine#dean winchester x reader#jensen ackles#jensen ackles x reader#jensen ackles imagine#jensen ackles x you#jensen ackles x female!reader#jensen x reader#supernatural#supernatural imagine#sam and dean#sam winchester#spn#spn reader insert#request
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Roadside
This is so, SO overdue, but here’s my entry for @huffle-pissed‘s Vibes and Valentines challenge! My prompt was “Kiss me like that and you might regret it.” Thanks in advance for reading; I would love any advice or critiques!
Title: Roadside
Pairing: Sam Winchester x Reader
Word Count: 5741
Summary: At least Sam’s there when the reader’s car breaks down.
Warnings: smut with only the thinnest premise of fluffy story, dommy Sam
He was hot—it was hot. The sun alone was nearly enough to make steam come off the blacktop itself, although you were nearly sure you’d heard that was an optical illusion most of the time. This certainly wasn’t; the huge, lean man in front of you, your car popped open behind him like a themed calendar. Sweat had slowly collected through the fabric of his t-shirt, the grey cotton first gaining a stripe down his back that had swelled to some Rorschach test by this point. You were staring when he ducked out from under the hood and had to pull yourself together to look as casual as possible when you realized he had already been talking. “It’s got a small, like, cylinder piece and a handle like a normal wrench?”
“Oh, ah, sure,” you answered, rifling through the toolbox as quickly as you could to see if anything fitting that description popped out to you. You held up your best guess.
“Perfect, yeah.” He held a palm out while keeping the other hand in the innards of the car, probably holding something in place. When you gave it to him, your fingers grazed his and you felt an electric shock blazed up your arm. Sliding the wrench in, his forearms rippled with tension under a light sheen of sweat as he cranked. After a few moments he drew back from the car, thoughtlessly dipping a hand under the hem of his t-shirt and lifting it as a makeshift handkerchief to dry his face and mouth. Seeing the taut muscles of his abdomen made you feel a little dizzy, and pulling the jersey against his body draped it almost pornographically off of him, the damp sticking in a way that left so little to the imagination he could have been dunked entirely in water. “Man, it’s hot as hell,” he said. “How long were you out here?”
“Not that long, it wasn’t so bad.” Not if this was the reward.
He nodded with an easy smile that showed he wasn’t so sure he believed you. “Well, it should be good now. Do you have a long way to go?”
“Just to the next exit, my motel’s right off the highway.”
Only a beat passed as he considered that. “I think maybe I should trail you? Until you get into town. In case this doesn’t hold out.” It startled you enough to pause before giving him a shy grin, and he seemed to mistake it for hesitation. “Or maybe to a gas station or something, not following you back to—”
“No, no, that’s—that’s fine,” you answered a little too quickly. He smiled back at you, relieved. “Thank you so much, seriously. I don’t even know your name, you must think I’m a total asshole.”
The dimples on both cheeks got even deeper as he extended his hand to you. “Sam. Don’t worry about it; I’m glad I could help.”
It was warm as you shook it, as was everything else in the goddamned desert. Firm and gentle at the same time, calluses against the skin of your palm thick without being rough—a conscientious man who worked with his hands. “Then Sam, I feel like I should tell you that you have some grease on your chin.” Both his eyebrows lifted curiously as he tried to swipe blindly at it with also-dirty hands. You reached out, stopping just before touching his arm to stop him. “You’re—wait, hold on, you’re making it worse,” you giggled, the grey-black spot spreading along his jaw. He glanced over to the car, trying to use the reflection in the window to see himself. Rubbing for a couple seconds didn’t seem to help, and he held up a finger for you to wait.
“I just need one sec and I’ll be ready. Why don’t you fire ‘er up and see if it feels okay to you?”
You nodded, leaving the drivers’ side door open for some air flow and watching him as he walked back to the huge black muscle car he’d been in when he stopped on the road behind you. Bending down to use the mirror to help himself, he tried in vain to keep rubbing the grease off before seeming to lose patience and yanking his sweat-through shirt over his head, the cotton much more effective than his fingers alone. Your mouth dropped open a touch at the truly spectacular sight of him. His size was remarkable, of course, but it had been with his shirt on too. Without it, you saw that the glimpse of stomach you’d seen wasn’t a fluke; his whole body a model of sculpted, functional muscle, the swelled shoulders of a farmer or construction worker. Wholly masculine even without the dark hair collecting into a narrow stream, pouring down his stomach and dipping underneath a non-ostentatious belt buckle. He moved economically, his limbs showing an understanding of his body in space that felt almost elegant as he cleaned himself up and walked to the trunk, trading his now-balled grey shirt for a clean white one that must’ve been stored there.
It was a shame, covering that work of art again. At the very least the freshly clothed man that walked back to you could’ve been out of any cologne ad, long lines of his legs in American jeans and boots kicking up desert dirt. You hoped you looked nonchalant by the time he got to you. “How’s it running?”
“Seems okay, yeah.” You were going for coy but weren’t quite sure you were hitting it, not wanting to seem like a nutjob in front of him—Sam, a perfect name for this ultimate boy-next-door-knight-in-shining-armor, an accessible sense of rock-solidness in the sound itself. His lips split into a brilliant smile at the news.
“Great! Okay, you ready, or do you want a minute?”
“I’m all good if you are. I honestly can’t thank you enough, you totally saved me—”
Sam waved it away. “It’s really nothing. You probably did me a favor, to be honest. My brother usually works on the car, doesn’t give me too many chances to stay sharp.” He smiled at your sheepishness. “So, I’ll just, ah, follow you?”
And follow you he did. Trying your best to look casual in the event he could see you in the cab, you hunted around in your center console for any toiletries, finding a melted Chapstick that burned your finger when you opened it and a now-mushy stick of deodorant. Whatever cherry wax hadn’t spilled off your hand got rubbed into your lips, and you did your best to inconspicuously fish the deodorant through the neck of your shirt for a few swipes. You didn’t really know what you were even doing it for—Sam was, in all likelihood, going to ensure you weren’t so far from civilization that you’d die of exposure if the car broke down again and drive off to live whatever hot guy life he had, leaving you to fantasize about him in your stupid, scratchy motel bed.
The drive gave you a second to muster up the courage to bring Sam and his gigantic Chevy to the parking lot of your motel. You reminded yourself you had nothing to lose, that if you didn’t go for it you’d likely never see this guy again anyway, your rejection an entirely private secret. By the time you saw the sign for vacancies, you’d almost convinced yourself it was a good idea, sticking your hand out the open window to wave Sam into the parking lot after you. When you saw his car park, you opened your door before you had a chance to talk yourself out of it.
He met you about halfway between the vehicles. “Is something wrong?”
Just an offer, don’t psych yourself out. “It’s really, um, hot. Out here. My AC’s barely cutting it and I’m betting yours isn’t either. I was wondering if you would want to, you know, cool off? Inside?”
His eyebrows raised as he realized what you were asking, and his mouth formed around a silent word before he started over. “Ah—yeah. Yeah, okay,” he smirked somewhat disbelievingly. “Let me just, uh, lock the car, I guess.”
You fought the urge to sell past the close and waited for him to return, feeling slightly more confident at the half-skip in his walk as he hurried to the Impala and back. The two of you walked into your room together somewhat awkwardly, standing almost close enough to touch without ever crossing the distance, reminded you were strangers in the middle of the afternoon, without cover of darkness or even a single drink to lubricate. Inside was cool as promised though, the mechanically chilled air hitting you like a soothing curtain as you walked in. Waiting any longer would make you lose your resolve, so when he closed the door behind him a few seconds later you tried to channel someone extremely sexually confident and pressed the length of yourself up into him so that your lips could meet his.
He seemed surprised by the force behind your push, pinning his body to the wall with a tiny grunt before seeming to become ravenous, his hands running through your hair desperately as he kissed you hard. Even with it the restraint in his movements was obvious as he curved down to meet you, his frame that much larger, stronger, this close to you. You felt something animal inside you flare at his hunger, and you let your nails run a little harder than you might’ve down his chest before biting his bottom lip, drawing it away from him as he groaned. Breaking away for only a beat to tug the back collar of his t-shirt over his head, you barely had enough time to relish your skin on that which you’d so admired back on the highway ahead of his flipping your positions and hitching below your thighs to pick you up, weight suspended between his arms and the wall. It made you gasp, and you felt Sam’s smirk against your lips. “Nice trick,” you breathed into the space between your mouths.
“I have better ones,” he murmured, moving along your jaw to kiss-suck at your neck. You believed him entirely, feeling set alight already. A sharp sigh squeaked out when he ground some delicious trigger spot, and your head rolled back on your neck involuntarily. “Ow, fuck—” you snapped as your skull clunked hard against the wallpaper.
“Shit, I’m sorry,” Sam said, reflexively covering the spot with paradoxical sweetness as his fingers dug beautiful perfect dimples into your ass. “Too rough, my bad—”
“No, no.” It was too emphatic but you couldn’t be bothered to care. “Rough is good, I’m just clumsy.”
He smiled, easy and light, letting his forehead tilt to touch yours as he chuckled. The grin was infectious as it spread to you through a brief, remarkably chaste kiss. “And you’re sure you’re okay?”
You rolled your eyes. “Shut up,” you giggled as he tucked back into your neck, his pelvis tilting under you enough to feel the thick ache of him between your legs, through your jeans. After a minute or two, Sam’s arm behind your head folded somehow to become a seatbelt crossing your back and holding you to him as he walked you both to the bed, ease-dropping you down and ignoring the button and fly of your jeans in favor of shucking them off of you like some kind of cartoon, one incredibly hard pull taking them clean to your ankles as you tried not to shriek. By some miracle of modern elastic, your panties were jostled but still on as he covered your body with his, the heat of his body and the cold air of the room impossible contrast, and his fingers circled your neck. He didn’t apply any real pressure; his thumb rested in the hollow of your neck as he sucked on your tongue, the feeling of being completely overwhelmed almost too much to handle.
The thumb brushed back and forth as Sam hovered for a moment, his fingers long enough to curl around the collar of your shirt with the same hand. “Off,” he growled simply, the smirk on his lips devilish. You grinned as you obeyed, shimmying out of not only your shirt but everything underneath it too, laying bare beneath him. He kissed you again before sliding down, teeth dragging lightly and stopping to catch tiny nips of skin as he moved to your hips, angling his broad shoulders and fitting through your legs to lick a firm stripe over the only fabric left covering you, the movement an electric shock.
“I’m probably really—ah, sweaty,” you croaked.
Sam just smiled, his tongue running along the inside of his molars before he drew it through the joint of your hip, his enthusiasm vibrating through his lips. He slipped then to taste a different kind of salt-tang, the sensation so much smoother than the panties pressed against it. When you began to rock against his glistening face, he took two fingers and turned them to hook confidently inside you, the rhythm of his mouth not changing at all as if this was choreography he’d practiced dozens of times. “Holy shit,” you breathed, grabbing a handful of Sam’s hair out of his eyes as he looked up at you. It was impossible not to squirm, and his other arm wrapped around your thigh like an iron bar, holding you in place while he worked magic before your body spasmed and clenched around him. He rode it out as you rode his jaw, leaving you a twitchy, heaving mess on the motel sheets.
You caught your breath together, his head resting on your leg. Feeling slightly less jellied, you scooched back on the mattress until you could sit up, watching Sam slink to his knees at the foot of the bed. Swinging yourself around to get over to him, you slid into his mouth deep-dirty, tasting yourself on his lips and sinking as he clutched at your body, pulling you down onto his lap. The still-tender wet ground against his denim and God, could he really be that big zipped through your head while he pawed at your back. You managed to get hold of the button of his jeans, undoing them as he realized what you were doing and leaned away to help you, his stomach flattening as he flicked them open and you rolled off of him. He rose in his kneel to get at the zipper until you grabbed his hands, stopping him to do it yourself. He got to his feet, about to move to the bed again, but you stayed down, freeing the length of him from the jeans and worn plaid boxers underneath.
Fat drops of precum gathered on the tip of his cock tasted nearly sweet as they passed your lips, and Sam’s head rolled back. “Fuck, just like that,” he groaned as you took him into your mouth with considerable effort. You tucked an errant piece of hair behind your ear and he reached down, holding the rest back as you bobbed. He was a playground, opportunity to try all the things you’d ever been curious about with the feedback of unconscious pulsing in his hips and the gorgeous, filthy things coming out of his mouth. The end goal had almost slipped your mind completely when the hand in your hair pulled you all the way off of him, Sam looking down at you on your knees. Motel quilt on your back reminded you how close you still were to the foot board and he bent down to kiss you, curling your head back onto the fabric to scoop under your thighs again. You tried to help scramble back to the mattress but weren’t fast enough as he picked you up and put you onto the bed, sucking down your neck as you giggled through the springs bouncing. “Wanted to bend you over the hood of your car out there, you looked so fucking good,” he growled along your throat.
“Oh yeah?” you breathed, the chills down your spine and the feeling of his body on yours more than enough to distract you from how lame that must’ve sounded.
Sam didn’t seem to care, grazing his teeth along your pulse. “Couldn’t stop thinking about what you looked like under those clothes—” he paused enough for you to feel the grin against you as he sucked an especially sweet spot and your breath hitched. It might as well have been one of those hypnosis recordings you’d tried a couple times to fall asleep, his low murmuring and movements slowly tugging you under a cloud of pheromone coated endorphins. “Tasting you—seeing your lips around my cock—‘s even better than I thought.”
You whimpered like a virgin until Sam’s mouth finally caught yours. He rocked crystal-hard against your thigh and a small, hungry note came from the back of his throat when you bit his lip, forcing him to break.
“Do you have…?” he asked, so close to your face you would’ve been able to count his eyelashes.
You realized the question required a response at the same time you understood what he was asking. “Ye—yeah, of course. Sorry.” Fishing your arm out from the tangle of your bodies toward the nightstand, you were nowhere close to getting to the little bag of toiletries lying there even as you twisted your torso.
“Bag?” Sam asked, his arm easily long enough to cover the distance when you nodded. His skin moved across your nipples as he reached, on its own something you would’ve been able to daydream about for months to come. Tanned fingers flicked purposefully through a handful of tampons and tiny bottles before finding a foil package he ripped open with his teeth, the hand disappearing. You felt him nudge against you before he seemed to change his mind, bringing two fingers to into his mouth while the other wound in hair at the back of your neck.
Sam’s forehead pressed against yours. “Before I get distracted.” The fingers circled before dipping inside at the same time his tongue entered your mouth. You felt remarkably like he was a predator playing with his food without caring one bit. If it had been more elegant, less primal, it could’ve been watching an expert piano player. Within a couple minutes you were clutching for purchase along his chest, his arms, anything to try to hold yourself together as you fell apart. “Look at me,” he said, the hold on your hair tightening a fraction. His eyes were lit from within when you met them, the need in them nearly frenzied as you came spasming around his fingers. “Good girl, just like that.” It was virtually guaranteed your nails would leave marks digging into him. “God, you’re so fucking hot,” he breathed as the heaving of your chest started to even out.
He brushed his cock back and forth against you, pausing. “Yeah?” he asked, something gentle there even with the dark hunger in his eyes. You couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more than you did in that moment, squirming toward him as though you physically couldn’t help it. Nodding made him grin, sly and cocky and excited, and he pushed into you.
It was slow, at first—his quiet, confident self-awareness that you’d need it somehow not coming off like hubris. When you hooked your leg around his hips he started rocking into you, picking up the pace as you threw your head back. Soon he was pulsing fast, forcing you to brace yourself on the headboard behind you with outstretched arms. He curved forward, his teeth catching your neck to pull a groan from it. You couldn’t tell how much time had passed, endorphins suspending you in a frozen limbo you could’ve stayed in forever, when he scooped under your back and picked you up, lifting you as he laid down.
His deft movements rearranged you like a doll, legs on either side of his waist. You nearly fell forward in surprise but the thick pillar of him kept you supported like a puppet, that much deeper than he’d already been with the added gravity of your body. Each pump skewered into you in the most delicious way; for a brief, flitting second of legible thought you felt you understood how people could feel so overcome they spoke in tongues. Taking each of your hips in the broad span of his hands, Sam began to ram up into you hard and fast, some tilt hitting you just right to fall apart again, your head falling back like you were being raptured. He slowed as you came down, wrapping his arms around you to pull in for a long, filthy kiss. “I could watch you all goddamn day,” he murmured against your skin.
Again he moved you as you giggled giddily through the compliment, sliding you back on the bed and standing up. He came around the corner of the mattress and seemed to be making good on his promise, his eyes sliding over your body where you laid. Something about it, being seen like that by this glistening Tarzan, with his shining hair and perfect soft-rough balance, made you feel stripped past your skin to your bones, to the very core of yourself. An insane way to feel for a man you’d just met that day, but there you were.
For what it was worth, the smile Sam gave you in that moment was equally as insane—you were sure then you weren’t imagining the affection there, that there was something just as sparkling in his hazel eyes as there was in the glint of his teeth. He stroked himself for a few seconds, the mere sight of your body a private piece of pornography, before grabbing behind your knees and yanking you down the mattress to where he stood, the backs of your thighs thudding against his and locking in place with his palms. The way he’d pulled you pressed his cock between your legs, as much a taunt as anything, the heat of it feeling like it throbbed against you. He rocked there, taunting with the grind before you drew back and slipped him inside you yourself. Knowing you wanted it that much made Sam bite his lip to keep from smiling too widely. With only a beat or two of buildup, he slammed into you—hands an iron grip on your thighs, pulling you in as much as he thrust forward, the force of it seeming like he could drill you right through the floor and you’d beg him to keep going.
He took a thumb into his mouth and reached down without missing a single stroke, circling your clit. “You going to cum for me again?” he nearly murmured, low and steady.
You would’ve done anything then, but more importantly, it seemed like your body had been crafted as a puzzle for him to take apart and would’ve obeyed without your input. He pounded harder, riding you through the inevitable before he came himself, the muscles in his arms and abdomen clenching while his breath got rough.
The aftershocks had him bracing his weight on stretched, sculpted arms as his breathing evened out before he discreetly shucked the condom into a wastebin and laid down in one relatively fluid motion. If you hadn’t been so thoroughly spent, it might’ve even seemed a little too suave, a little too practiced in its coordination. He sidled up to you, spreading his wingspan in low-pressure invitation for you to lie along his side. It felt—gentlemanly, somehow; the pretense of sex already foregone, the ruse of manners drawn away to reveal a relaxed sincerity you weren’t expecting. It made the inappropriately profound crush you were developing on him worse, the hooks sunk in like ice picks.
Sliding underneath the arm and resting your head on his chest felt treacherous, but it would’ve been more awkward not to. You half expected him to tip forward and kiss your hair, but the way his fingertips brushed back and forth on your bicep, holding you to him, was just as nice. The two of you laid for a few moments, letting your bodies soak in and the hormones float lazily through your bloodstreams.
“Thanks for inviting me in,” he said after a few content minutes. His voice sounded like caramel, lilting enough you could hear the smile behind your head. Propping yourself up to your elbows, you grinned back at him.
“Thanks for coming in,” you answered. He bit his lip, tracing the lines of your face with his eyes for a moment before looking up at the ceiling, letting his smile deepen enough to pull the dimples into his cheeks.
Bashful silence reminiscent of some middle school dance hung in the air just long enough to start to feel awkward, and Sam cleared his throat. “Do you, maybe, ah, wanna get something to eat?” he asked, only a note off of breezy.
The smile wiggled around on your face, threatening to beam. “Sure,” you finally answered. “I could eat.”
He grinned back at you. “Cool. Let me just call my brother, I was supposed to be on my way to see him before you, ah, invited me over.”
Sam did, politely covering himself with the top sheet as he sat up and grabbed his phone from the pocket of his discarded jeans. He poured into them fluidly like a glass of water filling, tucking the phone under his chin while he threw the button together and stood up. You watched him cross to the bathroom, likely looking for some privacy and throwing you a silent, unnecessary ‘sorry!’ before snatching his shirt off the ground and closing the door behind him. Watching the slink of his spine, the jeans low-slung on his hips, even his bare feet, you were nearly thankful for the physical barrier forcing you to stop staring. You stood on then-coltish legs and tried to pull yourself together as quickly as possible, trying in vain to fix your hair in a tiny compact mirror when Sam came out, throwing his t-shirt on. “Ready to go?”
“If you are.”
Walking together across the street was a pleasant kind of silence. Without having to fill the space with words, it the intimacy felt more lived in between the two of you than you might’ve believed if you weren’t experiencing it.
You probably could’ve guessed he’d open the door for you, but it didn’t make it any less gentlemanly when he did. The heat of his hand was palpable hovering over your lower back but he didn’t outright guide you which was somehow more attractive, although it’s possible anything he did would’ve been attractive at that moment. After ordering, you leaned onto the table to rest your chin in your palms.
“So, Sam. You always so chivalrous?”
“Chivalrous?” he asked, the tip of his tongue flicking out to grab his straw.
“I came three times before you were even inside me.”
Sam choked on a sip of Coke, his eyebrows raising in shock as he coughed once through it, smirking as he swallowed. “I didn’t know that was chivalrous.”
You grinned, cheekily pleased you’d managed to surprise him and moving your cup out of the way as you saw the waitress walking over. “What would you call it, then?”
He kept smiling, dimples staying deep as he said a small ‘thank you’ to the waitress and graciously denied a need for anything else when she asked. When his eyes met yours again, they were coy. “Guess I hadn’t thought about it.”
Picking up a fry and blowing on it, you rolled your eyes. “Sounds like a yes to me. Is that some pickup artist always-leave-them-wanting-more thing?” It was Sam’s turn to roll his, accepting the teasing as flirtatious as you’d hoped he would. “Or are you some mythical being luring women in on the side of the road?”
Bedroom eyes looked back at you atop his smile. “If I remember, it was you on the side of the road.”
“Don’t change the subject,” you said, hoping the heat of flattered embarrassment wasn’t obvious on your face.
After a few beats he realized you were serious and stretched back in the booth, running a hand over the back of his hair. “I don’t know, it’s less—distracting, maybe? If I don’t, ah, you know, take care of it, I have a hard time not thinking about it.”
“Take care of it? How romantic,” you laughed.
“Whatever, you know what I mean. Easier to have fun if everyone is.” He rolled his eyes but seemed to be a good sport about the ribbing, grabbing a fry and biting it in half. “Plus it’s hot.”
The sly smile he gave made you giggle like a schoolgirl, and he grabbed a few more fries. He really was handsome—gorgeous, even—with high cheekbones and those dimples, his neck the wide-strong of an athlete. You only knew you’d been staring when one of his eyebrows twisted up, silent curiosity of whether something was wrong.
“So, um, what do you do?” you tried to cover, intently focusing your gaze on picking the next fry.
Sam swallowed and took a sip of his drink. “I work with my brother.”
“Same brother you called? Hope I didn’t mess with your job.”
“No, I—” he grinned, slightly embarrassed at misspeaking. “I mean yeah, same brother. But you didn’t mess with anything. And even if you had, I ah…I wouldn’t have cared.”
That made you flush and you struggled to think of something clever to say before deciding you couldn’t come up with anything, wishing you could’ve held onto the spunky, raunchy girl you’d been able to put on before you got lost traveling his face. “What do you guys do? Are you from around here?” Stupid, don’t be clingy.
He swallowed and you worried maybe you had mis-stepped. “Not from around here. We’re, uh, exterminators? Sort of exterminator consultants.”
“Sexy,” you smirked, enjoying the reappearance of his dimples.
“Family business, I guess. It’s what my dad did.” He pivoted abruptly, clear but sweet Not Interested In Discussing in his tone. “My guess is you’re not from around here.”
“Oh really? What gave it away?”
His eyebrows crooked incredulously. “The motel?”
You hoped the ‘fuck, right’ didn’t show on your face too clearly, winking as if it was always a joke rather than a chunk of your brain shutting down for how badly you wanted this plate of fries to last forever, to split a milkshake with two straws like teenagers after a sock hop. “Maybe you should be a detective, Mr. Exterminator.”
He smirked, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
You’re losing him. “You must get along with your brother pretty well to work together.”
“Yeah, we—yeah, we really do. We’re a good team, I guess. Makes it a lot easier to be on the road together all the time.”
His fond smile was reassuring both in the way it seemed like you still had his attention and in the sweetness his being close to his brother showed. “How long have you guys been on the road?”
“A while. Where are you from? Close to here?”
You took a sip of your drink to stall. “No, not close really. I’m just passing through.”
He considered that with a downward turn of his lips. “To where?”
A deep breath blew out of your nose, continued inability to answer this question one of the recurring frustrations in your life. Something about Sam felt right, though—open, like he would understand—and if he didn’t get it, you probably wouldn’t ever see him again anyway. No harm, no foul. “To nowhere, really. You know, ‘finding myself’ or whatever,” you said, rolling your eyes to show you understood how it sounded and that you thought it was lame too even if secretly, sincerely, it didn’t. ‘Finding yourself’ may have been less accurate than ‘running’, but if you were worried about scaring this guy off by wondering what he did for work, you certainly weren’t going to tell him your whole life story right off the bat.
Sam looked at the table, slowly rotating his glass with his fingers. “Well if nowhere is ever close by, it would be cool to, ah, see you. Again.” He finally glanced back up when he was done speaking, as though he could handle the aftermath but not the implied question itself.
The heart thumping in your chest seemed not to remember this guy had already been inside you, ohmygodhelikesme bounding through your bloodstream and drawing a smile across your face like a crisp clean sheet. “I think that could be arranged.”
You could’ve written a bubblegum pop ballad for those dimples. Sam’s tongue moved along the underside of his molars as he grinned across the table.
He paid the check without looking at it, leaving a fold of bills on the table and walking you back across the street to the motel room door like he was dropping you off at home after a date on a school night. Standing at the threshold, you struggled with the feeling that you didn’t want him to leave, feeling ridiculously like you were saying goodbye to someone you really knew, not this random hot guy who’d fixed your car and blown your back out.
“So. See you later?” Sam asked, ruffling the hair at the back of his neck nervously.
You swallowed and nodded before pressing to your tiptoes and kissing him deeply, slipping your tongue into his mouth and biting his lower lip, dragging it a bit as you stood back. “See you later.”
Sam smiled with his eyes closed. “Kiss me like that and you might regret it,” he murmured, his hand lingering on your lower back for a beat before dropping.
“Somehow I doubt that,” you grinned into the heat of him.
It would’ve been enough, the memory of the day and the way he took a few steps backward like he couldn’t bear taking his eyes off you even a beat too early. But about fifteen minutes after you got back into your room, your phone went off:
-
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Brutal
Summary - "Dean, I care about our relationship way too much just to be your South Dakota good time while you're in town"
Pairing - DeanxReader - Platonic!BobbyxReader
Warnings -Angst, infodump for upcoming series, tension, no editing once again
Slight continuation of SNAP
Meeting Bobby Singer had changed your life entirely, he and Rufus had saved you and two co-workers from a vampire attack after several Friday night margaritas. Your co-workers were happy to forget it had ever happened, even denied it after awhile, you however couldn't let it go. You'd researched every single thing you could about vampires, your brief encounter helped you weed out the impossible from the highly probable.
You call it some kind of early midlife crisis, you had regularly taken time off your job to track down victims of possible vampire attacks. You are well aware how unhinged that was, you even had the crazy person map on the wall with thread attached to markers detailing all the possible vampire attacks in the area you'd been able to find, colour coded and everything.
You decided since you weren't actively looking to interact with any vampires, just gathering information tor curiosities sake that you were safe.
The next 4 months you were practically obsessed and while on one of your solo road trips you found a lead in Colorado that lead you to another in New York. You had stopped in the small town of Sioux Falls for the day to rest before driving more. Seeing one of the men that had saved you in the aisle of a grocery store buying beer and hamburger helper was so unexpected you almost ran into a coca cola display.
He had ducked his head when he'd recognised you, he had rushed the cashier when you'd gone to talk to him anyway and he'd started speed walking to his car when you dumped your things and followed him out.
Bobby Singer was not happy when you told him what you'd been doing if the "Are you out of your goddamn mind?!" was anything to go by.
You'd told Bobby you weren't hunting, god no, you just wanted to know about this hidden world inside the one you thought you knew. You'd showed him the journal of vampire facts you'd written, which he immediately pointed out two wrong things you'd thought were correct.
He'd rubbed a hand down his face and stared for a moment. Then he asked how old you were, what you did and if you were married, children, basically everything about your life. He'd quickly realised you weren't going to be convinced into going home or letting this go so he begrudgingly told you his address.
Right there in a Sioux Falls grocery store parking lot started your unlikely friendship.
You turned up at Bobby's the next morning and he grumpily educated you on vampires and let you have free rein of his extensive library so you'd go and leave him "the hell alone". Three weeks later, you'd quit your job and moved to Sioux Falls, you got a job at a tavern and rented a room nearby, you'd visit Bobby on weekends, sometimes even weekday afternoons.
You'd never said you weren't impulsive or that you weren't escaping your old life.
Around six weeks later you were living in Bobby's spare room, he'd said "Why are you wasting money on that shithole, I've got a room upstairs as along as you don't plan on annoyin' the crap outta me", you moved in and realised Singer Salvage was a mess on the business front. You'd spent your days researching monsters, trying to learn ancient languages which was as hard as it sounds, and organising Singer Salvage's inventory and sales. You'd quit your bar job when you'd started making Bobby money and he decided you were now his receptionist, both for hunters and the junk yard. It made it all more believable when you picked up and 'transferred' calls to your boss when cops called.
You'd later learn why Bobby was so willing to take you in.
One night in late July, not long after you'd moved in, you'd both had a bit to drink and you built up the courage to finally ask Bobby about an old polaroid you'd found of himself and two young men. He'd told you about Dean and hell, how Sam's been of the grid ever since he died. Bobby had lost the two men he'd considered sons and you were filling some kind of void for him though he'd never admitted it, he wanted some companionship.
It was for the first time you really understood the sadness and loss that came with hunting, Bobby had many friends, not many close, but no family.
The more time you spent with Bobby the soft spot you immediately had for him became ten times it's size. You learnt to cook more, he complained about the healthier things, but the guy had to watch his chloestrol. You cleaned when he was away and catlogued his never ending junk yard of parts and cars to sell. You still remembered the look on his face when you pulled out $2500 in cash you'd gotten on a day trip you'd taken to sell his stuff after he'd told you this 'junk wasn't worth that much". Problem was Bobby knew where every artififact, weapon, rare herbs and weird stuff was in his house, but he couldn't remember all the things he had buried out back amoungst the rusted out steel.
Google had turned you into a parts expert, the only rule he had was to make sure he didn't need it and not to let any buyers here, public exchange only.
It was an oddly simple life considering Bobby's profession. You became receptioinist for Singer Salvage by day and various FBI and Department of whatevers assistants in the shadows,he'd taught you how to answer phones while he was gone, what to say to keep the hunters out there covered and what kills what so you could help any hunter who called when he wasn't around. You were no Bobby, but you were getting better.
Bobby had decided a beat up 1970 Chevy Chevelle was going to teach you all things cars, told you that you should know how to do things on your own, this one wasn't going so well, honestly Bobby had done most of it while you watched and admittedly zoned out for majority of it.
The only thing Bobby wouldn't do was let you hunt. That was a hard, solid line and you did not mind in the slightest, you'd had to help on one salt and burn once when Bobby needed and that was enough. Monsters, ghosts and demons in theory were interesting, the reality of it you could miss.
Bobby's drinking had you more worried than any supernatural creature did, you enjoyed the occasional alcoholic beverage, but the empty bottles you'd fine some mornings that weren't there when you went to bed worried you, but he would snap if you ever pushed. You were planning on a more subtle intervention.
You'd gone to a friends wedding in September and returned to absolute chaos of a resurection and an apocalypse. Bobby wanted you to pack your things and leave, you refused. You now wondered if that choice was a huge mistake.
That was the first time you'd met Sam and Dean Winchester.
It felt like a lifetime ago.
It was February now and they'd missed both Christmas and New Years, you'd forced Bobby into swapping gifts on Christmas and by gifts you meant a bottle of scotch and some skincare gift pack Bobby must have grabbed at the grocery store, which strangely made you feel warm inside.
You, Sam, Dean and Bobby were now sitting on Bobby's front porch and had been for the last few hours, just talking, it was nice considering how intense things had been for the last few months.
Sam and Dean had been through alot with the snippets Bobby had told you, despite how very much involved you were Bobby was still keeping it vague with what was going on out there. You'd heard them talking about a demon named Alistair, Lilith, Angels and Seals when you had turned on the shower and snuck out to listen to what they were talking about when they thought you couldn't hear.
Lilith.
She hadn't come for you, it'd been months. Your rescue from her demon minions was miraculous and you'd been living on the edge ever since, Lilith had said she needed you for something, you have no idea what.
You laughed loudly with everyone at Bobby's story about a hunt with Rufus, you were pleasantly buzzed after a few vodka limes on this particularly hot afternoon. You liked when Dean and Sam came, especially when you had moments like this, moments when you could pretend the apocalypse wasn't looming over you all.
You stood up asking if anyone else wanted another drink with an all around yes. You said you'd get some snacks too.
Three days ago when Sam and Dean arrived was the first time you'd seen Dean since the motel room incident two months ago. Some nights you couldn't sleep thinking about that night, just rolling around unable to get comfortable or relaxed because you couldn't stop relieving the way Dean's hands felt on your skin, how his mouth felt against yours.
Neither of you had brought it up again, just like you'd asked.
You opened the refrigerator pulling out some cheese, dip and salami and crackers. The first time you'd made a glorified cheese platter for Bobby he'd scrunched his face up at 'this fancy crap' you'd stared at him incredulously, 'fancy? It's lazy dinner'
Now he's a cheese platter fiend, not that he'd admit it. You regularly drink beer on a Saturday afternoon eating too much cheese and breadsticks while watching football or reality TV.
"Want some help?" Dean's voice startled you, you turned around from cutting salami to see him leaning in the door way.
"No, I'm nearly done, do you want your beer?" You asked grabbing a bottle from there fridge and holding it out towards him to quick not to be obviously nervous.
Dean pushed off the doorway, his eyes moved down your body as he crossed the room, so brazenly, you were immediately off kilter. The tank top and denim shorts suddenly made you feel suddenly bare.
You wouldn't let him know, you wouldn't show him how much he rattled you. You were an adult for god sake, why did he make you so nervous and stupid? he never used to.
You'd been lulled into a false sense of security, you weren't sure if it was going to be awkward when you watched the Impala roll up the driveway, but to your great relief Dean was completely normal, he was even back to his old self and wasn't treating you like you were cotton wool.
The blatant way he was checking you out caught you off guard, It had to be the alcohol you'd all consumed.
He took the bottle from your hand and you quickly turned back to the food you were getting ready, you took a swig of the vodka you'd made yourself to calm down.
You had to get a grip on yourself.
"I'll be out soon" You said without turning around. You just had to get this ready and go back out and continue drinking, eating and laughing, no issues.
"You been doing ok, feel like we haven't talked?" Dean asked from behind, damnit he wasn't leaving.
He was right, you'd found yourself alone with him two days ago while you were making some tweaks to the Chevelle, you were about to get Bobby to check it over, you weren't an overly confident home mechanic without him yet.
"She not running?" Dean's voice made you jump.
"Jesus, Dean" You huffed holding your chest.
"Bit on edge there (Y/N)" He laughed "What's going on?" He peered under the hood beside you.
"Making a weird noise, I think something is loose and vibrating on the engine, I'm pretty sure it's here" You pointed, looking at Dean for assurance.
“Can I have a look?" Dean questioned raising his eyebrows.
"Sure" You smiled easily moving out of his way.
Dean leant under the hood and peered into your engine bay "Can you turn her on?"
You moved to the front seat and turned the key until you heard Dean yell to stop. You jumped out and came back to stand beside him.
"Very close, looks like that one, but it's further back" He strained leaning further in and gestured "Over here" you peered over his shoulder.
"We can get this apart and tighten it up this afternoon, won't take long" He smiled widely.
So you did, well mostly Dean did while you watched.
"There' Dean grunted twisting the wrench into place.
You were suddenly very distracted by Dean's arms, he was pulling on the wrench, tan skin bulging as he pulled it tighter, his grey t-shirt was straining against the size of his arm, Dean was talking and you realised you weren't listening when he raised his eyebrow.
"Sorry, what?" Pull yourself together
Dean repeated himself looking at you and the car to make sure you understood. He was so unaffected, ofcourse he was, Dean would've been with plenty of women on the road since you last seen him, you're such an idiot. You just needed to avoid direct eye contact and get through the next few days.
"Should be good as new" Dean said as he finished putting everything back together "Start her up"
You did as he said and naturally there was no more weird noise.
'Thanks, Dean " You smiled genuinely "saved me alot of time and taught me something new"
"It's all good, I needed to get out of the house, there's only so much Sam and Bobby talkin' ancient languages and lore I can take" He wiped his hands off with a rag, once again the movement made his arms bulge, all that thick muscle not from a gym, from hunting because he was strong, you knew first hand how firm he was.
You glanced up and see Dean looking straight at you, you felt your cheeks heat up from embarrassment and swallowed quickly moving to shut the hood of the car, Dean was still watching you with an unreadable look on his face.
Suddenly that familiar feeling of being too close came over you, you could feel the warmth of his skin and you weren't even touching.
"Should get back inside" You said quickly.
"Yeah' He answered, his voice suddenly deeper. You looked back at him and you did not like the change in demeanour at all.
You really wish you never opened this can of worms.
"Yeah there's been alot going on, I've been good, Bobby and i have had a couple of hunts, he wants to lay low for the most part" You answered.
Dean leaned onto the counter beside you, his posture was relaxed, but his brow was pinched. You turned to look at him, you nervously licked your lips, Dean's eyes shot down to the movement, copying it himself. You knew if there was any shot of forgiveness with Jo, you could never ever do what you did again, you hadn't meant to the first time.
"You? Alot more going on out there than here, I'm sure" You tried to keep it light while you distracted yourself with placing cheese cubes.
"Nothing new so far, just your regular end of the world stuff" he'd answered with a tired sigh, a pained look flashed across his eyes which was gone just as quickly.
You smiled weakly with the corner of your mouth and opened a pack of crackers. You were sure it was much more complicated.
"So tell me" He began fake casually after a short silence, your body tensed at his tone.
"You going to be weird around me all the time now?" He continued.
"I'm not being weird" You replied quickly.
"You're being weird right now" Dean's grin was teasing, definitely beer spearheading this conversation. He was also right, You and Dean had an easy connection that had been strained since that night in the motel.
"I'm fine Dean, really" You answered, probably a little too reassuringly.
"You won't even look at me anymore"
You sighed deeply and tilted your head to meet his gaze raising your eyebrow. You had never let any man make you feel this jittery, you weren't going to start now. He's just Dean, a man.
You turned back to finish what you were doing, Dean chuckled, you could feel his eyes on you, this had to stop now.
if Dean wanted to talk then you'd talk.
"What are you doing, Dean?" You turned to face him fully trying to keep your voice casual.
"What are you doing, (Y/N)?" He countered grinning, like this was a game.
You frowned confused, you were ignoring this thing exactly like you were supposed to. Dean chuckled looking down for a second shaking his head.
"You tell me you want to forget what happened and then you keep looking at me like you want to jump my bones" He stared at you, you were making a huge bold mental note not to be alone with Dean when he's been drinking all day because apparently his already huge balls got even bigger.
"I do not" You whispered, eyes wide, looking at the door making sure no one was there "I meant what I said" you insisted.
"Why?" He asked suddenly serious.
"Why?" You repeated incredulously
"You want to" He stated. You could tell Dean Winchester didn't get rejected very often, you could see why too. That cocky grin, that handsome face and playfulness that you knew would show you a good time.
"Really, cause it sounds like you're trying to convince me" You raised an eyebrow keeping your tone just as playful. He laughed sliding closer to you.
“Dean, we had a fight, that got out of control, thats all" You continued.
"Sweetheart, I have fights with people all the time and they don't end like that, unless they started like that" Your heart was thumping in your chest, it hadn't started like that though, it really did catch you off guard. You and Jo were on shaky ground as it was, but almost back to normal after months of trying to fix what happened.
"Look Dean we work together, we're friends, Jo is my best friend, there's a whole apocalypse, it's just messy" You finished making your snack platter intent on leaving this kitchen.
"Jo?" He questioned, in your panic you'd slipped up.
"Is that what this is about?" He leaned in closer towards you.
"No" You said quickly.
"(Y/N), Jo is like a little sister to me, nothing's going on with us, nothing has even been going on" His face was full on reassurance, but you felt none of it. Your heart broke for Jo, little sister, ouch.
You crossed your arms with a sigh and turned to face Dean, your face hard you needed a final blow.
"You know Dean, I really didn't take you for a guy who needed to be told no twice" Even as it left your mouth your stomach was turning in knots.
Dean's face feel and all playfulness and flirting was gone.
"(Y/N) I didn't-" He looked so upset with himself.
"It's fine, really" you interupted "Dean, I care about our relationship way too much just to be your South Dakota good time while you're in town" You tried to make light of the situation.
"You're not just a good time" Dean looked insulted.
"Yeah, I'm a pain in the ass too, I know" You smiled trying desperately to get this conversation over.
"Right" He ran a hand over his mouth clearing his throat and looked away. A heavy silence fell over the kitchen.
You felt awful, but you were honest, you didn't want to be another notch in Dean Winchesters bed post.
"You two good?" Bobby’s gruff voice startled the both of you.
"Yeah" You both said unconvincingly at the same time.
"Here, I'll take that for you" Dean grabbed the platter and his beer and disappeared through the doorway.
"Should I be worried about that?" Bobby asked from behind you as you were gathering the beer for the rest of you from the fridge.
"No" You scoffed, guilt still churning in your stomach.
"Dean's a good man, you know I love him like a son" Bobby continued.
"God, Bobby i'm not trying anything on Dean" You pleaded.
"Dean isn't the kind of guy for you (Y/N)" Bobby took his beer from your hand.
You were surprised, that wasn't what you were expecting.
"A hunter isn't the kind of man you should be going after" he clarified "It'll be nothing, but heartbreak or death at the end of that road"
"It's ok, Bobby. Don't worry, we're just friends" You patted his shoulder.
There was very little chance of Dean ever making a move on you again, so you weren't worried either.
#spn imagine#dean x female!reader#dean x you#spn reader insert#dean x reader#supernatural x reader#dean winchester
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I'm Not Sick
Pairing: Dean Winchester X Reader (she/her)
Requested by: @nancymcl
Prompts: “Get back in bed, you’re sick.” - “It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Just breathe.”
Warnings: mentions of sickness, the beginnings of a panic attack (or at least what I experienced as one in a mild form)
Word Count: 820
Summary: someone's got the flu and is not happy about it (hint: it's Dean). Naturally, Y/N has to convince him to take care of himself.
A/N: I don't know if this is entirely comprehensive or even living up to the prompts but oh well. I like it
It had started out innocently enough. A few coughs here, a hidden sneeze there. Just a scratchy throat, no biggie.
Only that 'no biggie' turned into a silly little monster called 'flu'. That thing where you were supposed to stay in bed and let people coddle you.
Not swinging a machete. And yes, Y/N had learned that the hard way.
Yeah well, tell that Dean Winchester.
"I'm fine!" He insisted nasally, eyes barely able to track her movements as she reached over to feel his forehead. He was burning up.
Y/N studied his pale face pointedly. Followed a beat of sweat from his hair line to his neck. Dean was definitely running a fever.
"You don't look fine."
"But I am," he insisted and swung his legs over the bed, making to stand up.
Even from behind, Y/N could tell that the fast movement wasn't doing him any favours. Dean was swaying on his feet by the time he was standing straight. Of course, he was too stubborn to admit to it openly.
"You're not fooling anyone with the way you're supporting yourself on the night stand," Y/N pointed out softly and got up as well, "get back in bed, Dean. You're sick."
"'s jus' a little cold," he said and promptly started coughing.
It wasn't stopping this time. Long enough for Y/N to round the bed and pat his back, hoping to get him back to breathing.
When he eventually got enough air into his lungs, Y/N gave him the best bitchface Sam had taught her. "Just a little cold?"
"I'm-"
"Get your ass back into this bed Winchester or I'm sicking Sam on you," she threatened.
That worked. With indignant grumbling, Dean got under the covers.
Y/N couldn't resist on tugging them a little higher and leaning over to place a kiss on his heated cheek. "I'll get you something to eat, okay?"
"I can do that myself, you don't need to-" uncontrollable coughing interrupted him once more. This time it sounded like something was caught in Dean's throat. That something snowballed as his eyes fixated on a point behind her head.
Y/N didn't know what was happening but she knew that she had to do something to help him. So she got him to sit up, hoping that his lungs were just too tightly squeezed together. But that wasn't working either.
Dean was just gasping shallowly, a panicked expression crossing his face as the oxygen didn't seem to stick. And that scared Y/N more than anything else.
"It’s okay. Everything’s going to be okay. Just breathe."
Y/N was leaning over him, hands hovering where he could see them as she took deliberate slow breaths. She just hoped that it would guide him enough to get back into the rhythm.
While fending off her own panic attack. What was happening? Why was Dean reacting that way? It surely couldn't be just the fact that he had caught something, could it?
Eventually it worked. Dean's muscles relaxed and he fell back into the pillows, face paler than ever but his breathing pattern back on track.
"Baby?" She asked tentatively, hands just shy of touching his face.
"'m sorry," he mumbled, and then, "shouldn't have been stupid like that."
"You're not stupid," Y/N said quickly and cupped his cheek, "what happened?"
"Stupid fever happened," Dean grumbled - or maybe his voice was just that wrecked. The fact alone that he admitted to being sick proved just how shaken he was.
And that in return shook her. God, her mind was a goddamn domino tower.
Y/N waited for him to elaborate this time.
"It's just-" Dean waved his arms around; a strangely helpless gesture on the hunter, "I thought I saw somethin' movin' behind you. Nd I can't do shit right now."
Oh.
"It's okay baby." It took all of Y/N's will power to not climb into his lap and cradle his head to her chest. Because that would likely jumpstart another coughing fit. But oh, she wanted to so badly. "Nothing can get us here. We're safe."
"I know that!"
Dean threw his hands up, agitation in every unwilling bone. And winced when it shot straight through his chest. "Told ya it was stupid."
"But it isn't," Y/N insisted. "It's sweet and a little overprotective and you, Dean."
"So-"
"If you say stupid one more time, I will spoon feed you for the next seventy two hours," Y/N threatened.
Because that was how they worked. If it wasn't her doing the threatening, it was Dean. To get her to eat, to get her out of the bathroom, whatever.
But right now, Dean was on the receiving end. And it worked.
"Fine, you torturess."
Y/N smiled sweetly. "And now you'll let me put a few pillows in your back and make you chicken soup."
Dean snorted. "Knock yourself out sweetheart."
Oh she was planning on exactly that.
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#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean x you#dean x reader#supernatural fanfiction#spn reader insert
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Rich Secrets
Author: @crowleysgirl67
Word Count: 631
Parings/Characters: Dean x Reader, Sam
Warnings: angsty, character death (mentioned), swearing, idk
A/N: Thanks for reading!
You led the Winchesters up the front steps of your family home. There had never been any intention on your part to bring them here, but yet here you were. The six bed, six bath farm house stood on ten acres of land.
“Are you sure about this place?” Sam asked as they looked about.
“Yes. It's secure. The iron tracks we drove over form a devils trap, the house sits in the middle. The whole property is warded.” you unlocked the door.
“Whose place is it?” Sam again asked as they followed you in, watching you toe your shoes off in the entryway.
‘Why can they never just accept it as a safe place and not ask so many questions?’ you thought to yourself.
“(Y/N/N)?” Dean prods gently.
“It’s mine.” you mumble.
“Come again?” he looked at you in disbelief at what he thought he’d just heard.
“It’s mine. I own it.” you stared at him watching his anger simmer just under the surface. He was pissed you didn’t tell him. He wouldn’t say anything in front of Sam though.
“Shoes off. I’ll show you around. There’s plenty of rooms ya can each have your own.”
They took their shoes off as instructed and you showed them around. Sam opted for his own room on the main floor and left you and Dean alone.
“This costs a hell of a lot of money. How do you own it?” Dean crossed his arms as he followed you into your room.
“My family came from money. Old money, really old money.” you sighed.
“So if you have so much why aren’t you off living the high life?” there was a bitterness to his tone.
“Is that why you’re so mad? That I’m hunting, not off living a normal life?”
“Yes! Why the fuck would you choose this!” he threw his hands up.
“You know how my parents died. But I didn’t tell you everything.” you sat on the edge of the bed.
“What do you mean? I thought they died because of a shifter.”
“They did. But that particular shifter was cruel. He tortured us for days before finally killing them. The psychological torture of watching your parents die is enough to make anyone crazy. I could never truly have a normal life after that even if I wanted.” you took a deep breath. “After my rescue I started looking into all of this. I warded everything. I installed the devils trap around the property. I had practically every priest, shaman, and holy person known to man bless the property and house. It made me feel a bit safer.”
“Sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me?” he sat next to you, his tone softening.
“And say what? My parents died in front of me and now I've inherited everything?”
“Is the money nice? Yes, but it’s more important to me that I could have been helping you with what you saw. With what happened to you.” he kissed your head.
“You’re one to talk Winchester. You bottle shit up just as much if not more than I do.”
He couldn’t argue with that and he knew it. Instead he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you into his side.
“That’s what I thought.” you muttered.
“Yeah. Yeah you’re always right.” he chuckled.
“Damn fucking straight and don’t ya forget it.” you smiled softly.
“Are you finished bitching yet?” Sam poked his head in the door.
You let out a laugh as Dean gave Sam a bitch face. “Yeah we’re ok Sam. You know him, mad he has to buy his own beer and pie.” you tease nudging Dean.
“Don’t knock on my pie” he scoffed, mock offended.
Sam rolled his eyes and shook his head at the two of you.
#spn fanfic#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#sam winchester#spn reader insert
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No Such Thing As Monsters
Summary: Dean is injured on a hunt and at first glance, appears to be fine. Quickly though, the reader and Sam learn something far more serious is going on...
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 1,200ish
Warnings: language, injury
“Dean,” you said, shaking on his shoulder, his eyes flashing open, fist tightening around his angel blade. “You’re okay. Sam took care of the ghoul. How’re you doing?”
“I feel like I just went through a wall,” he said, shakily getting to his feet, cocking his head at the damaged sheetrock in front of him. “Looks like I did.”
“You sure you okay?” you asked, his head nodding. “Sam’s driving us home, just in case.”
“No arguments from me,” he said, giving Sam a nod when he showed up, following his brother the few blocks over to where you’d parked Baby. Dean grabbed the passenger door, slamming his hand on the roof.
“Dean...” said Sam. Dean scrunched up his face, placing a hand on his head. “Dean.”
“Take me to a hospital,” gritted out Dean, your eyes wide. “Now.”
“What’s wrong?” you said, shoving him in the backseat instead, climbing in beside him as Sam started gunning it for the closest one.
“My head. Something’s wrong. I don’t...just hurry.”
Eight Hours Later
Your excuse of Dean taking a hard fall worked with the doctors but you and Sam were staring at one another after finally getting to see Dean again.
“Let’s talk outside,” said the neurologist, Dean giving you a smile as you followed her out.
“What is wrong with my brother, Sally?” asked Sam the second the door to Dean’s room was shut.
“Retrograde amnesia as far as I can tell. He remembers certain things like his name, date of birth, address when he was a child. You’re lucky I was on call tonight to take his case. Neuro patients are hard enough, especially one’s that are hunters and have to lie about everything,” she said, crossing her arms.
“Sally, amnesia...isn’t that supposed to fade after a few hours at most?” asked Sam.
“Normally,” she said, taking a deep breath. “My best guess is a combination of lasting amnesia which will be hard to recover from but we can help him...and then he’s repressing all the hunting without realizing. You guys have seen some serious crap I’m sure he’d rather forget.”
“What do you mean repressing?” you asked.
“I mean, Dean thinks monsters are made up, creatures from stories. He doesn’t know they’re real,” she said. You raised an eyebrow, Sam shaking his head. “He doesn’t remember the ghoul, he doesn’t remember the Vamp you guys took care of for me years ago. Monsters aren’t real to him,” said Sally.
“He’s known monsters were real his whole life,” said Sam.
“Technically, since he was four, almost five,” said Sally. “There was a time when he didn’t think any of this was real so it is possible.”
“You’re telling me Dean thinks he’s five?” you said. “He’s in his thirties.”
“He doesn’t think he’s five. He just doesn’t remember certain things. Like he understands basic long term memories, who his parents are, who Sam is...more recent things he’s blocked out,” she said. “Either by choice or because he really can’t remember.”
“Does he remember me? I only started running with the guys about five years ago,” you said.
“He knows your name and that he loves you but that’s about it. The details are all fuzzy for him. Now Dean’s not exactly what I’d call a normal patient. He’ll get thrown in an institute if he starts remembering here in a hospital and God knows what’ll happen to him in there,” she said.
“What do we do then?” asked Sam, Sally sighing and grabbing a chart from the nurses station.
“He has no bleeding in his head, just a few minor cuts and bruises from his tussle. Take him home, try to get him to remember. Any problems and you guys call me. I’ll get you some materials that help sometimes,” she said.
“What if he doesn’t remember?” said Sam.
“Then he doesn’t. Either way, you need to be there for him. You guys gotta get going. The other neurologist starts his shift in an hour and he’s going to want to look at Dean if he’s still here.”
Dean was quiet on the way home, sitting in the backseat, leaning against the backdoor as he stared out the window. Sam simply went through the motions, making him dinner, sending him to bed after checking his bandages, Dean wearing a confused but happy smile the whole time.
“Y/N,” said Sam, catching you sipping on a drink the library, stealing the bottle to pour himself some.
“What are we going to do Sam?” you asked. “He’s...”
“Do you remember when I saved you from that fire? You promised you’d do anything I wanted. Anything. I told you maybe someday I’d take you up on it. We both know I was never going to but this...I’m cashing that favor in, Y/N,” he said, taking a long swig.
“Using a spell to get his memories back might be dangerous, Sam,” you said, earning a head shake.
“I’m not talking about that. I’m talking about the fact that my big brother thinks the world is normal. The weight of it isn’t on his shoulders anymore. He’s so light and happy. You’re gonna pack up his stuff, pack up your stuff, and you’re going to take him to a little cabin that used to be Bobby’s. It’s not that far out in the boonies so you’ll have electricity and internet and then...you’re gonna help him get a job, get a job yourself and you two are going to get the hell out of this life,” he said.
“Sam that is not-”
“You’re doing this. If something comes after you, you can protect him. Try it for me. If he starts to remember on his own, come back but please, give it a try.”
Two Days Later
“I thought we lived at the bunker place?” asked Dean, sitting down at your new kitchen table, watching you whip up an easy dinner.
“We live here now,” you said, stirring the pot, taking a deep breath.
“What do we do now?” he asked with a smile. “Do I go to work?”
“We’ll find you a new job,” you said, Dean pursing his lips. “What is it Dean?”
“You’re not happy,” he said. “I want to fix it but I don’t remember how to do that.”
“We both have to get used to this new life,” you said, giving him a nod. “We will. I don’t want you to worry about me, Dean.”
“I love you though. Of course I worry about you,” he said with a smirk.
“You don’t even remember my birthday,” you said with a smile.
“I guess I get to learn everything I love about you all over again then,” he said. “I do know I love you. I definitely remember that.”
“I love you too Dean. Every version of you. We’ll get through this too.”
#spn#supernatural#dean x reader#one shot#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#spn reader insert#supernatural reader insert
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Dean's mouth was hanging open as he stared at you across the room. He watched you swipe a hand across your eyes and flick the gore off your fingers down onto the floor. "Oh shit. Oh my God. I'm so sorry," he said in a rush. He crossed the room toward you and looked you up and down. You were completely covered in blood and guts; vampire blood and guts. Dean stared down at the weapon in his hand, agape. "I didn't realize that would happen. I didn't know it would—would—"
You wiped at your mouth and spit onto the floor. "—explode him all over me?" you finished for him.
"No," he said, shaking his head. His green eyes were wide. "I'm so sorry," he said again. "Uhh—here—" He hurriedly tugged off his flannel and handed it to you with an apologetic look.
You mopped at your face, wiping the gore off as best as you could. Your eyes met Dean's again. "You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner. At least."
He nodded, giving you a boyish smile. "Does it help if I tell you how badass you look, even covered in—"
You held up a hand to stop him and squeezed your eyes closed.
"No—yeah, okay..." he muttered.
"Get me to a shower. Now," you said, thrusting his shirt back at him.
"Yeah, you got it," he said. "Uhh—you know maybe we should walk? Baby's upholstery, you know?" You glared at him and your eyes seemed to smolder. "Yeah, you know what? You're right. It's fine. I'll just clean it after—yeah... my bad. Let's just get you to the hotel and—yeah..."
Prompt: "You owe me a dinner. A very nice dinner."
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester imagines#spn imagines#supernatural#spn reader insert
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Stolen Glances
Request: Can you write a smut story with dean in it I was hoping a friends to lovers sort of thing
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Masterlist
Note: this is 18+ only. Do not read this if you're under 18.
Story:
Glances. That's all she could get of him. She watched from the passenger seat of the Impala while the sun and the wind worked together to scatter highlights through his hair, and she listened as he sang along to his tape as if there was no one in the car with him. She smiled as she watched him enjoy the drive, no monsters to hunt down, no angels or demons after them, just a drive to get supplies for the bunker. He'd come to her room in the early afternoon to see if she wanted to come with him, and she never said no to spending more time with him, to catch more glances, to see small glimpses into what her life would be like if he was hers. He looked over to her after the song ended and she quickly looked away, not wanting to he caught stealing her glances.
"Think they'll have pie?" He asked and she looked back at him, rolling her eyes and laughing.
"Remember how you threatened the poor guy last time they had none? I think they order in twice as many now just in case you come in looking for it".
"Hey, don't bring up bad memories", he gave her a fake glare before looking back out at the road, and he smiled when he heard her quietly giggle to herself.
"Sorry, I forgot how traumatic that experience was for you".
"Worst thing that ever happened to me", he smiled while shaking his head. Although he was joking, [Y/N] sometimes wondered if being disappointed by a store being out of pie was somewhere up there with all of his other traumatic experiences in his head.
"Well, if they don't have pie then we can get the ingredients and I'll make one for you".
"Are you trying to get in my pants? 'Cause that'd do it", he grinned, glancing over for a second to admire the blush he'd created on her cheeks.
"Just drive", she couldn't help but smile, turning her head to look out of the window, hiding how easy it was for Dean to get her flustered. No one had ever given her butterflies with just a smile. Especially not a cocky smile. Then came Dean Winchester, so naturally confident, more attractive than any man she'd ever met. Just one wink from him and her heart would skip a beat, just one gentle brush of his hand against hers and she lost all sense of herself. She could keep her heartbeat and breathing steady when she was in hand-to-hand combat with any monster or demon, but one stolen glance at Dean and she couldn't control it. She didn't know if it was just a crush that she hadn't been able to get over, or if she was actually in love with him. She knew she loved him in some sense, she loved Sam and Cas too, but her feelings for Dean ran much deeper than familial love. She was hesitant to put a label on it though, and she'd never tell him.
Dean pulled into a parking space right in front of the store, and he led the way in, [Y/N] following behind him. "You wanna go grab the toilet paper? I'll get the food", Dean asked and [Y/N] nodded, and the two went their separate ways. She wandered down the aisle where she knew she'd find the toilet paper, but stopped when something caught her eye. Condoms. She couldn't remember the last time she'd needed them, she wasn't into casual sex with strangers like she knew Dean was, or even Sam was on occasion. Living in a bunker and spending most of her time either inside it, or across the country on a case with the boys, didn't really give her much time to build a relationship with anyone other than the boys. She often visited the local bar with Sam and Dean, and she never really liked the lonely trip back to the bunker on the occasion that they both found someone else to go home with. She had been feeling more and more in the mood for it recently though. Her fingers and her imagination, mostly occupied by thoughts of Dean, just weren't cutting it anymore. She wanted to find a man, but she'd been holding herself back, always finding excuses. She figured that maybe if she bought a pack of condoms and kept one in her purse, she'd be giving herself one less excuse to leave their bar alone.
She quickly grabbed a packet and made her way to the toilet paper, grabbing a few other toiletries on the way to hide the condoms. The last thing she wanted was for Dean to see them, raise his eyebrow at her, and make some smart comment on them. She knew she'd probably burn her cheeks with the embarrassment if that happened. She made her way to the checkout and paid for her stuff before heading outside to wait for Dean. She shoved the condoms into her jacket pocket while she held the rest of her things in a bag, waiting by the car for him to come out. In hindsight, she should've taken the keys from Dean so she could sit in the car, she knew he'd take longer if he was the one shopping for food. The air was warm, and she closed her eyes to enjoy the light breeze in her hair.
"Hey Sweetheart", Dean's voice caught her attention, and she opened her eyes to see him walking towards her, his hands full with bags. She could see a familiar box of pie peaking out of the top of one, and she almost felt disappointed. She wondered if she'd had to make one for him, if it would give him a reason to like her more.
"Hey", she smiled, pushing off the car. "They had pie?"
"Yup", Dean chuckled. "Dude scrambled to go get it when he saw me, I didn't even have to say anything".
"I'm telling you, he's terrified", she laughed and Dean shrugged sheepishly at her.
"Hey, could you grab the keys? They're in my pocket", Dean turned to his side and nodded down at his pocket. She nodded and reached into his jacket pocket with her free hand, but Dean cleared his throat when she found his pocket was empty. Looking up at him in confusion, she noticed a light blush across his nose. "Uh, sorry, I meant my jeans".
"Oh", she said, feeling the heat rising in her cheeks. "Right". She took her hand out of his jacket pocket and reached into his jeans pocket, quickly pulling out the keys and unlocking the car. They set their bags down before she silently handed Dean the keys and they got into the car. As soon as the engine was turned on, Dean turned on the music, neither of them making eye contact. She didn't know why it was so awkward, they'd been a lot closer to each other than having a hand in the other's pocket. She'd cleaned and stitched up wounds on his chest, stomach, and back. He'd cleaned and stitched up wounds on her shoulders, thighs, and sides, and it was never awkward.
About halfway back to the bunker, [Y/N] finally stole a glance over at Dean. The sun was starting to set, filling the Impala with a warm orange glow, and it hit Dean's face perfectly. They were coming up to a turn in the road when Dean looked in her direction, meaning to look out her window but catching her staring at him instead. When their eyes met, she jumped slightly and turned to look out the front of the car instead, but she looked back when she heard Dean chuckle. "What?" She asked, and he smirked before nodding down at the space between them, then looking back out onto the road. She looked down and immediately her cheeks felt like they were on fire. Her box of condoms had slipped out of her pocket and were now sitting beside her, fully visible to Dean.
"You seeing someone?" He asked as she quickly stuffed them back into her pocket.
"No", she shook her head, looking out the passenger window, not wanting to catch his eye.
"You planning to?" He asked, glancing over at her. She thought he sounded worried. She looked back at him with furrowed eyebrows.
"Maybe? Why does it matter to you?"
He shrugged as he looked back out the window. "Just think that if you're planning on going home with some guy, then Sam or I should know where you are. You know, for safety".
She scoffed and shook her head. "You don't tell me where you go when you find someone to hook up with. You think I can't look out for myself?"
"No, I do", he said, clearing his throat. "I just didn't know you were into that kind of thing".
"I'm not", she said quietly. Talking about one night stands, or sex in general, while alone with Dean was something she'd managed to avoid so far. She couldn't help but notice that he kept glancing at her as he drove. He quickly looked at her pocket, then back to the road, then to her eyes, then back to the road, then to her chest, then back to the road, then to her lips, then back to the road. It was making her feel a little self conscious, but it was also making her feel warm inside. After a few moments of silence, Dean cleared his throat again.
"So uh, if you're not into it, what's with the condoms?"
"Why are you suddenly so interested in my purchases?" Her cheeks warmed again as she saw his neck turn pink. Why did he look nervous? This was Dean, he didn't get nervous that easily.
"I'm not", he said, and she turned away from him again.
She sighed, contemplating whether it would be more or less awkward to continue the conversation. She didn't want things to be awkward between them later, so she figured it would be best just to get it out of the way now. "It's just... been awhile for me. I'm not into one night stands, but I also have needs, and desires, you know?" She asked, and Dean swallowed, nodding, but kept his eyes on the road. "So I figured, next time I'm at the bar, I'll give myself as few excuses for rejecting a guy as possible".
"Oh", he nodded. He stole another glance before muttering a "fuck this" and pulled over onto the side of the road.
"What are you doing?" She asked in confusion, and Dean turned to fully face her. She noticed that his eyes seemed darker than usual, and his chest showed he was breathing heavily.
"I can't concentrate on driving, I can't concentrate while thinking about you being prepared to go home with some guy, while thinking about you having needs and desires. Fuck [Y/N], do you even realise how hot you are?"
Now she was swallowing nervously. No man had ever looked at her quite like how Dean was looking at her, nothing but desire on his face as he gripped the steering wheel tightly, like he was finding it difficult to restrain himself. She blinked at him, completely speechless, waiting to wake up in her bed. Never in a million years would she ever have thought Dean would look at her like that, that he'd want her like that. Yet, here he was, waiting for her to say something, to give him permission. She glanced down at his lips as he licked them, and she couldn't help herself, she shuffled closer to him, sliding along the front bench. He lifted his arm up and onto the back bench behind her, and took his other hand off the steering wheel and grabbed her thigh, pulling a gasp from her as he angled her to face him. He left his hand on her thigh as he stared down at her, so close she could feel his breath on her face.
They glanced at each other's lips as they leaned in towards one another, finally closing their eyes as their lips touched. Dean almost immediately pushed his tongue into her mouth as he gripped her thigh tighter, and she moaned as his other hand slipped off the bench and into her hair. She slid her hands up his chest, leaving one there feeling his heart beating quickly as her other hand continued up to his face, feeling his stubble under her finger tips. Neither of them cared that they were on the side of the road as Dean's hand left her thigh and slid up under her shirt, his thumb just below her bra and his fingers gripping her side. She giggled as she pulled away from him, looking up and smiling. "That tickles".
He smiled at her as he leaned down for another kiss, pushing her down onto the bench and leaning his elbows either side of her. He pressed himself on top of her and she moaned as he ground against her. He left her lips and kissed along her jaw down to her neck before pushing his hand inside her jacket, pulling it off and letting it fall to floor of the car. He pushed his hand back up her top, feeling her body. "Dean", she whispered. He pecked at her neck once more before pushing himself up to look at her properly.
"Yeah Sweetheart?" He had that smirk on his face, the one she was all too familiar with, the one that made her imagine all sorts of scenarios with him.
"You're wearing too many clothes".
He chuckled before looking up over her head, out the passenger window. Luckily it was a quiet road, there didn't seem to be many people about. "Wanna get in the back? There's more space". He watched her blush as he spoke. "I mean, if you wanna keep going that is".
"Well", she bit her lip as she reached up cup his cheek. "I am prepared and everything".
He grinned as he wrapped his arms around her back and pulled her up, reaching over her to open her door. She laughed at how excited he seemed, his smile making him look like he didn't have a care in the world, like this moment between them was the only thing in existence. He grabbed the condoms out of her discarded jacket, and they quickly got out of the car. Dean used the time to shed his own jacket before they slid into the back seat. Dean immediately grabbed [Y/N] and pulled her onto his lap, making her stradle him. He moaned as she leaned into him, feeling a hardness beneath his jeans. She began kissing at his jawline and neck as his hands found their way back up her top, his thumbs pushing up just under the cups of her bra, his fingers spread around her sides. Dean had large hands, and they made her feel small in his grasp.
"Fuck, that feels good", he groaned as she kissed just below his ear, his skin hot on her lips. "Can I take this off?" He asked, sliding his hands back down and tugging at the hem of her top. She leaned back slightly and nodded, and he grinned as he pulled it up and over her head, tossing it over the bench into the front of the car. "And this?" He asked, his hand running along the shoulder strap of her bra. She nodded again, this time a bit shyly, as he reached around to undo the clasp. Her bra fell away from her chest and he helped her slide the the staps down her arms. "Better than I imagined", he chuckled as he grabbed a breast in each hand, his thumbs flicking over both nipples.
"Imagined?" She asked, her fingers now toying with the hem of his t-shirt.
"Every day", he mumbled, completely distracted by the sight in front of him. "So many quick glances, not enough time to properly look", he said as his hand ran down her side, making her shiver, "and feel", he added.
She started to pull his shirt up and he complained when he had to take his hands off her to get it off, but as soon as it was on the floor, his lips were on hers in an instant. His tongue pushed into her mouth and he breathed heavily through his nose as she trailed her fingers over his stomach and up across his chest to his shoulders. She was taking her time with really feeling just how solid he was, how much muscle had had, how strong he felt under her. Her hands finally found their way back down to his belt, and she quickly unbuckled it. Getting the idea, Dean turned to his side and lay her down on the seat, leaning back to kick off his shoes and push his jeans off. She stared at him and the bulge in his boxers, the little wet patch from his arousal making itself apparent.
She reached down to unbutton her own jeans when his hands landed on hers. "Let me", his tone sounded almost like a plea as he waited for her to say yes, but she was lost in his appearance. Dean Winchester, stripped down to his boxers, a lights sweat on his body, his cheeks flushed, his lips slightly swollen, all because of her. Dean Winchester was looking at her like he'd never seen anything he wanted more. "Hey", he said, leaning over to cup her cheek. "Are you okay? Is this... this is still okay, right?" He asked, and she blinked, swallowing back her amazement and nodding.
"Yes", she said. "God yes, this is okay. I just got lost there for a second... do you even realise how sexy you are? Fuck Dean, look at you". He blushed and looked away from her, concentrating on her jeans again. Once they were undone, he pulled them down her legs, pulling her shoes off as he did so. Once she was left in just her panties, he leaned down to kiss her thighs, but looked up to her to catch her eyes as he did. He started to kiss higher up her legs, skipping over her underwear and kissing just below her belly button. She ran her fingers through his hair as she looked down at him, nervous but excited to watch him explore her body with his mouth.
He pecked her once more before hooking his finger into her panties and pulling them to the side, completely exposing her to him. He groaned as he leaned down, closing his eyes and licking up through her wetness. When he started to circle his tongue around her clit, she immediately clamped her thighs around his head, and gripped his hair tighter in her hand, surprised by how intense the pleasure was. "Fuck... sorry", she breathed out, relaxing her hold on him.
He chuckled and shook his head. "Do whatever you need, I'm into it", he kissed the inside of her thigh before focusing his attention back on her clit, now watching her reaction as he stroked a finger over her entrance. When she bucked her hips towards him, her inserted his finger, smiling to himself as she moaned. He continued to lick and such as he pushed another finger in, pumping in and out.
"Dean, stop, I'm close and I want us to cum together", she said through gritted teeth. He pulled away from her and raised his eyebrows.
"You sure? I can give you more than one".
"No", she shook her head, trying to calm herself. "The first one, I want it to be together".
He smiled at her as he nodded. She was completely lost in the moment, nothing else mattered other than the fact that Dean Winchester wanted to have sex with her in the back of his car, and it was about to happen. She watched with wide eyes as he pushed his boxers down, his cock fully erect, a bead of precum sitting on top. She licked her lips, she hoped they'd find themselves in a similar situation in the future where she could focus all of her attention on that, but right now she wanted him inside her. Dean grabbed the little box of condoms and pulled one out, splitting the wrapper open and pulling the rubber out. She fumbled with getting her panties off as she watched him expertly roll it onto himself.
"You ready?" He asked as he crawled on top of her, and she smiled up at him.
"Yes, I want to feel you", she said as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He positioned himself between her legs and slowly pushed in, holding his breath until he was as far as he could get. He let out a slightly shaky breath as he maneuvered slightly, caging her in between his arms.
"You feel so good", he whispered, leaning down to kiss her lips. He drew out of her slowly, just leaving the head inside, before thrusting back in. Her hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping him tight as he set a steady pace. He kissed her lips, cheeks, jaw, and neck as he continued, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. Their breathing got heavier the closer they got, and the kisses got sloppy as they both moaned and groaned and gasped at every spike in pleasure.
When Dean felt her tighten around him, it pushed him over the edge, and just like she wanted, they came together. After a moment of catching their breaths, Dean kissed [Y/N]'s lips and pulled out. He discarded the condom and then grabbed [Y/N]'s waist, spinning them so he was lying down on his back with her on top of him. She snuggled into his chest and wrapped her arms around him, and he kissed her hairline and started to stroke up and down her back. "I never thought that would happen", she said quietly, and Dean sighed in content.
"I'm glad it did", he said. "And I hope it will happen again?"
She lifted her head to look at him, and leaned in for a quick kiss. "It's definitely happening again". They both grinned at each other before they went back to cuddling. They knew there would be no more stolen glances, they could just take as many as they liked.
The end
Dean Winchester taglist: @123passwort @janineb86 @k-slla @lyarr24 @candy-coated-misery0731 @jackles010378 @hobby27 @pizzagirlxnsfwx @itburnslikehelltobevega @queenie32 @livingdead-reilly @vmaier12 @littlemadamred @darthysfanfic @dramatic-long-coats @kr804573 @cutiesarah
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Imagine... Wearing Dean's Boxers
Requested by anonymous: “Hi , idk if we can request but can i have a dean or Sam x reader. Where she comes out of the bedroom in his boxers with just a bra on and everyone (aka cas , jack etc.) just observe her because she hasnt notice them yet and dean/sam is just stunned. She probaly just came for water . Plz and thank you . Is it possible i can be tag also . No rush.”
Pairing: Dean x reader
Word Count: 828
Warnings: language, implied smut, talks of safe sex and procreation, mostly fluff
A/N: I kind of love Cas and Jack in this one :) Enjoy!
_____
Sam nudged Dean with his foot under the table when you walked into the kitchen. Cas and Jack watched as you made a beeline for the cupboard and reached up on your tip-toes to grab a glass from the top shelf.
Sam kept rearranging everything every time you left for a hunt and you just got back from a solo one last night. He thought the mugs should be lower since they were used for coffee more often, but you didn't drink coffee and hated having to stretch up for the glasses. Next time he left you’d switch it all back again. You weren’t the one who was gonna cave first.
Dean cleared his throat and you fumbled the glass in your hands, catching it before it hit the countertop. You shot him a dirty look for scaring you and started again when you spotted the boys. Cas and Jack watched with curious expressions while Sam avoided all eye contact and turned beet red.
You had a kind of will-they-won’t-they relationship going on with Dean since you’d moved into the bunker and last night after a close call with a demon, you finally did. But you weren’t expecting the others to find out this way. Standing in the kitchen dressed in your good bra and Dean’s Scooby-Doo boxers which hugged your hips and the gentle curve of your thighs.
You wrapped an arm around your bare stomach wishing you had stopped to change in your room first, but it was in the opposite direction of the kitchen and you were damn thirsty after the late night’s more amorous activities.
Fuck it, you thought after a moment of self-consciousness and went back to filling your glass with ice cold tap water. You chugged it down and wiped your chin before refilling it again; a few droplets hit your chest and ran down the valley of your breasts. You made a satisfying ‘Ah’ sound and placed the glass in the sink.
Dean was biting his lip when you turned back to face the boys who were sitting at the table with breakfast laid out in front of them. Jack had some sort of chocolatey cereal, Sam had a kale salad of course, and Dean had a plate stacked full of just bacon. You sauntered over and stole the crispy piece Dean had in his hand and smiled.
Dean huffed and frowned and Sam chuckled as he pushed around his kale and vinaigrette. That’s when you noticed Jack staring at your chest and you scrunched your forehead in return.
"What's that?" He asked before you could snap at him for being rude, although you knew he didn’t know any better especially with Dean as a role model. "Did you get hurt?" He pointed to the purple splotch above your clavicle.
And it was your turn to turn all rosy as you shook your head. "Uh, Dean, you wanna answer this one?" It was a hickey, a lover’s bite; Dean’s mark to be exact.
"Nope, I'm good." He said, shoving a piece of bacon in his mouth and grinning up at you as he subtly eyed his handiwork. It wasn’t the only one, but it was the darkest one.
Jack looked confused, “Why would Dean know what happened?" He asked you but then furrowed his brow at Dean who just shrugged.
"I think this has something to do with the giggling and provocative language we heard coming from his bedroom last night." Cas explained, “They're marks of mating."
"Thank you, Cas." Dean said around a mouthful of half chewed bacon and coughed when he inhaled a piece.
Cas slapped him on the back, dislodging the bacon. “You're welcome." He said, missing the sarcasm in Dean’s voice.
“Wait,” Jack raised his hand and thought for a moment, “Am I going to be a big brother? Just like Dean?!”
“Uh, Dean?” You said, not wanting to answer.
You were hardly there in your relationship yet. If it was a relationship, you and Dean hadn’t hammered out the details. Though you hammered out a few other things…
Dean cleared his throat, “Cas?”
Cas took the opportunity to explain again, “Yes, it is my understanding that mating leads to procreation.”
Jack beamed at the thought and bounced in his seat like a giddy child. Sam snorted and spit out the bite of kale he just took. He laughed, clearly and thoroughly enjoying himself at yours and his brother’s expense.
You and Dean had taken the necessary precautions and someone was going to have to explain that to Jack and probably Cas too; but that sure as hell wasn’t going to be you. That sounded more like a Dean job.
“Oh my gosh,” you sighed into your palm and shook your head.
Sure, the night before was like you and Dean were making up for lost time, but you never thought you’d be the one things were moving too fast for. Though, there’s a first for everything.
_________________________
Dean/Jensen:
@akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33 @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891
Forever SPN:
@hobby27
#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#dean x you#dean winchester x you#dean x y/n#dean winchester x y/n#dean winchester x#spn fanfic#SPN#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester imagine#supernatural imagine#dean winchester fluff#Supernatural fanfic#dean fluff#spn imagine#dean imagine#spn reader insert#dean winchester fanfiction
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Grace For Sale
Sam Winchester x Reader
Synopsis: Your town could definitely handle themselves, but a little help isn’t something you’d willingly turn down. When the Winchesters show up - do things get better, or worse?
Warnings: language, anti-religious sentiments, slight religious inner conflict, angst? If you squint?, smut, Under 18 keep faaaar away.
A/N: Takes place during s5:e17 - 99 Problems. So funny story, I actually AM a preacher’s kid so this episode kinda made me laugh then gave me the idea for this. Title comes from The Devil’s Carnival. Also, this has been sitting in my drafts for literal years, guess it’s about time I post it. As always, I don’t have a beta so please excuse any typos. I’ll fix any that are pointed out to me.
Enjoy!
Sam and Dean aren’t exactly sure what to make of your little town.
The welcome wagon was a little more off the wall than they were used to - what with a firetruck full of holy water, a portable exorcism, and a group of civilians that actually knew about the things that go bump in the night. Still, it wasn’t…the strangest introduction they’d encountered.
“So, are we gonna talk about that?” Sam asks as Dean steers impala into town - right on the tail of the Sacrament Lutheran Militia’s truck. What kind of a name was that anyway?
A church looms overhead, answering Sam’s unspoken question, and he wishes he hadn’t even asked.
It’s definitely the apocalypse, what with the devil’s trap brandishing the walkway up to the church door.
Sam’s eyes are heavy - spending the wee hours of the night fighting hellspawn will do that to you. Especially when you’re bleeding out. At least the militia had some quick fix first aid handy.
The first thing the brothers notice upon entering the sacred building is the couples standing at the alter, all facing the priest who prattles on about finding something special amidst the impending doom. The second thing they notice is all of the townsfolk holding shotguns.
Sam scoffs.
“A wedding? Seriously?” How in God’s name - no, y’know what, scratch that - how in the Hell were they hosting a wedding at a time like this?
“Yup. We’ve had 8 so far this week.” The man to his right, Paul, says and it’s obvious Sam isn’t the only one who��s less than impressed. At least they’re in good company.
It’s definitely the first time the brothers can be completely transparent in their introductions. Sure, sometimes they’re found out, or sometimes they’re among other hunters. But to tell an entire town - and a priest, no less - that they are demon hunters? Yeah, that may take a little getting used to.
So is the priest toting a gun and the children packing salt rounds in the basement of the church. Dean makes a quip about running scared or sticking around and making a home out of the place and Sam thinks he’d be leaning toward the later if the end of the world wasn’t resting on their shoulders.
But none of that explained how a whole town had taken up hunting.
Well, until the mystery prophet is introduced in the form of the “Packing Preacher’s” daughter - Leah.
Well…he’d been through stranger.
Dean makes a pass at her - right in front of her father. The father. Sam just rolls his eyes, gaze landing on the corner where another figure lurks.
Oh.
This one…he thinks…this one is much more his speed.
“Ah, my other daughter.” Pastor Gideon says, holding a hand out to beckon you forward. Sam watches as you push off the wall and approach the group. There’s little family resemblance, he notes, but definitely isn’t complaining. While your sister is clad in muted colors, baggy sweater, and tennis shoes - you opt for something a little form-fitting under your dark leather jacket with the combat boots to match. You scream ‘hunter’, ‘capable’, and ‘danger’ more than anyone else in this town and he has trouble tearing his eyes off of you. Now, you’re not complaining. In fact, your eyes linger on Sam just as much as he does on you. And when he realizes this, the mountain of a man becomes a flustered mess. It brings a smirk to your face and a blush to his. “Y/N, this is Dean and Sam Winchester.”
“So I’ve heard.” You chuckle, arms crossing in front of the very cleavage Sam’s staring at beneath your open flannel. You cock a brow, baiting him, though he seems too nervous with your father present to answer the challenge. “Shame Leah never mentioned you. Though,” you cast an appreciative glance over their strong frames and Sam very nearly shivers. Beside him, Dean practically preens. “I can see why. If I knew fine specimens such as yourself were going to be crashing in our little town, I’d keep it to myself too.”
The Father is none too amused when you wink at your sister and the two of you share a giggle. Again, Sam notes the distinct lack of resemblance but brushes it off.
“Y/N,” Your father says in warning, which you completely ignore and grant the taller Winchester another ravenous once over before turning on your heel. If anyone asked, you would deny that you were overemphasizing the swing of your hips.
“If you need me,” you tell him without so much as a glance, calling over your shoulder as you saunter up the basement stairs. “I’ll be at Paul’s!”
—————
The next time you see the brothers, it’s at the house Leah’s vision lead you to. Well, actually, that’s a lie. You saw them the night before at Paul’s bar, but they seemed to be wrapped up in a very important conversation - if the concentration on their brows had anything to say about it.
Still, that hadn’t stopped you from ordering the brothers a couple of beers. To his credit, Paul doesn’t judge you - which is a lot more than you can say for your family as of late - and even brought the boys their drinks so that you could do the ever so clique cheers across the bar.
Sam merely nodded in his head in thanks, raised his own beer with a silent ‘cheers’, then went back over to his brother.
So you couldn’t get a better read on them that night. That’s ok. It gave you the perfect opportunity to ogle to your heart’s content.
They were some fine specimens, that’s for sure. The perfect hunters. Sharp eyes, strong statures. Hell, Sam looked like he could take out multiple demons all on his own - I mean, come on. Those arms!
God, you had gotten such a perfect look at them while they brooded and planned what with the way Sam’s sleeves had been rolled and pushed up to his elbows. Had you ever found forearms as attractive as you did at that moment? Probably not.
And that jawline? Christ, you could cut glass on that thing.
The sideburns may have been a little much, but hell, if that was all you could pin as off, you’d take it!
Your ogling session had been cut short by the bell tolling - another of your sister’s visions - and after arguing with your father in front of the whole church that ‘yes, I am going with them’ - your hunting group was on the doorstep of the abandoned home. Most of the townspeople are toting guns full of salt or sprayers of holy water, all armed with the ridiculous incantation your sister had told you to use to exorcise them.
But not Sam. No, Sam was only wielding a knife, and God did he make it look easy. If you weren’t too busy kicking ass and getting your ass kicked, you’d be drooling over that too.
Only when the dust settles do you take the opportunity to approach the brothers.
“You really are the hunters my sister made you out to be.” Sam’s perfect eyebrow arches at that, gaze flickering to the way your chest rises and falls with your heavy panting.
“You didn’t think we would be?” You mirror his smirk and shrug, ignoring the way Dean is eyeing the two of you like he knows exactly what’s going on in your head. Honestly, he probably did. Dude seemed about as horny as you did.
“So,” Sam pants, following the group out of the house. You miss the way he’s eyeing your ass as you’re just steps ahead of him. “That’s what it’s like.” There’s no shortage of sexual innuendo in his voice and you decide to poke the bear a little more. Whether your father was in earshot or not.
“What what’s like?” You’re turned to him now, handing in your pockets and treading carefully backward. He meets your hungry look with one of his own and shivers absolutely rattle your body. Again he smirks, making sure the coast is clear of your father before saddling up right next to you.
“Having back up.” He all but whispers in your ear, large hand grazing just inches above your bottom and god, how did he make such an innocent statement sound so filthy. There’s no way he misses the way you tremble and sigh, not with the way he smirks at you while walking away.
You’re not sure what’s going to kill you first. The Demons or your insatiable need for Sam fucking Winchester.
—————
Neither.
Neither of those things is gonna kill you first.
Because it’ll be your father that kills you.
Because you’re going to fucking murder your sister.
After the Winchesters brought back a murdered Dylan…well, things were tense. People started to resent them and the warm welcome they had initially received turned cold. Only you and Paul would speak to them without adding to the guilt you knew they already felt.
You knew it wasn’t their fault. Hell, half of you had been through it before - coming off a hunt all together too cocky and not aware of the demon that still lurked around until it was too late. Dylan was a good hunter. Dean and Sam were good hunters. It had happened to the best of you. And so you do what you always did - you held a funeral and vowed to be more vigilant next time.
But that wasn’t enough for the townspeople.
Or for your sister.
No, she had to go and suck the fun out of everything.
No drinking, no gambling, no pre-marital sex.
All per the angels’ command, of course.
“What a crock of shit.” The empty glass thunks against the wood of the bar - as hollow as you feel right about now. Paul only echoes your sentiments and pours you another glass. The only thing that pulls you from your ire is the bell signifying a newcomer. For the first time since Leah’s proclamation, your scowl softens as the person you wanted to see most walks right through that door.
“So, what happened to, uh,” he makes a grand gesture to the empty bar - earning a snort from the two of you, “’the apocalypse is good for business’?”
“Yeah, right up until Leah’s angel pals banned the good stuff.” Paul says, earning a groan from you as you pinch the bridge of your nose at your damn sister’s name. “Y/N’s here helping me kill some inventory.” Sam chuckles at the glass you raise, tipping it toward him and saying ‘I’m only doing the good work.’ “Want to help?”
With a drink in hand, Paul pours a shot for each of you. He doesn’t hold back on his opinion of the ‘holy rollers’ nor their hypocrisy, to which Sam calls him out for his noticeable lack of faith. Paul shrugs it off, defending his honorable lack of prayer.
“Look, there’s sure as hell demons. and maybe there is a god, I don’t know. Fine. But I’m not a hypocrite. I never prayed before and I ain’t starting now. If I go to Hell, I’m going honest. Besides,” Paul nods to you just as you put your shot glass - empty again - back on the bar. “I figure if this one can get away with it, so can I.” Sam’s eyebrows raise at that, eyes finding you.
“You either?”
“I grew up in the church,” you explain. “I’ve seen how the…holiest of us all can be far worse than the ‘hooligans’ of the world.” You wink at Paul, air quotes bouncing as you mimic your father’s ‘preacher’ voice. The two of you share a laugh and you miss how Sam’s fingers tighten around his glass along with his jaw at the intimacy you two seem to share. “Yeah, I believe in some kind of higher power.” You continue, focus shifting to the Adonis beside you. He doesn’t miss the bitter tone your voice takes on. “But I don’t believe in the church. The organized religion crap. Never been too big on it. But then, neither had Leah. And now, out of nowhere, she’s some chosen prophet?” You scoff. “I dunno. I just can’t trust it. And like Paul said, I’m no hypocrite. I know I’m messed up. Won’t pretend otherwise.”
This time when you regard Paul, patting his hand as one would a brother, Sam’s shoulders relax.
“Yeah, I, uh…I know what you mean.” A moment of heavy, thick silence passes between the two of you before you’re pressing him for his thoughts with nothing more than a look. “I believe.” But he doesn’t sound so sure. More convincing himself than he is you, maybe, so you stay quiet and let him work through his thoughts. “Yeah, I do.” He says, more assured this time. “I’m just pretty sure God stopped caring a long time ago.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” A big sigh breaks from your chest, one of those sighs that comes when you feel like you’ve forgotten how to breathe, and suddenly this conversation is too heavy for how drunk you are not and for how drunk you want to be.
After a few moments, a morbid, hindsight joke blooms in your head and you can’t help but laugh, noting the questioning look on your drinking buddies’ faces.
“Guess those newlyweds knew something we didn’t.” You chuckle, taking a pull of your drink. “Tied the knot before Leah could restrict ‘em. Betcha they’re bangin’ like rabbits right about now.” The liquor burns, smothering your humorless chuckle as you knock it back. “Lucky bastards.”
Behind the bar Paul chuckles, noting the tension in the air, the sudden shift of mood, and takes his exit - mumbling something about grabbing more from the back. Neither you or Sam really hear him, though - too wrapped up in the other’s stare you share at what you’re implying.
Helluva wingman, that Paul.
Once the two of you are alone, Sam swivels in his chair until his long legs drape open and you have to force yourself not to look down. A bushy, perfectly masculine brow arches. Then he speaks - voice low and sweet and pure sin.
“Really? You, uh, don’t seem to have much issue with breaking the no-drinking rule.” And it isn’t a question. He flicks the back of his fingers against your glass, warm eyes staring right at you as the faint tinkling tickles your ears. Your heart shutters in time with the tinkling of skin on glass and you don’t realize you’re chewing on your bottom lip until his eyes flicker to it. “You gonna draw the line at pre-marital sex?”
“Now, Sam Winchester...who said I would do that?” The look you fix him with has him adjusting his suddenly too-tight pants.
“Not afraid of being damned? Of not being one of the ‘chosen’?”
“I’m no ‘chosen’.” You scoff, bouncing air quotes once more. “That’s my sister. Me? I’m just the poor little preacher’s kid who lost her faith a long time ago.” It isn’t seductive talk - in fact, it’s dark as hell. But he asked, and like you’d said before - you were no liar, and you were no hypocrite. You turn to your companion, renewed . “But you know…there is a curfew.”
The tonal shift isn’t subtle, but that doesn’t keep the space between you from growing ever smaller, Sam’s large hand sliding up your thigh and again you must fight off the urge to shiver. Especially when he lowers his voice once more, those big hazel eyes glancing at you from under his full, coal black lashes.
“Is that so?” A squeeze to your thigh, and you jolt just the tiniest bit, to Sam’s great amusement.
“My place is right around the corner.” You explain with a shrug, that damn lip caught between your teeth again. And suddenly in the dark, empty bar, you don’t care if you are damning yourself to hell. As long as it’s at the hands of Sam Winchester, you’ll go willingly.
—————
The wall of your entryway meets your back sharply, a hiss of pain escaping you momentarily before it’s silenced by Sam’s eager lips.
Hurried hands rid you of your clothes, his own falling like breadcrumbs alongside yours until the two of you are falling on to the bed. Fingers skilled at far more than knife-wielding ghost up your thighs, featherlight touches leaving a fire under your skin. He’s slow in his undoing of you. Reverent even. Watches the way you keen beneath him, begging for his fingers. Holds your eyes as he drags those fingers through his lips before trailing the wet tips down your front. When he finally gives them to you, one long digit sliding right up to the knuckle, your teeth break the skin of your lip just enough to hurt and you’re gasping - begging for more - which he gives to you, gladly. Working you until you’re ready for him and at the precipice of falling over the edge.
He had looked good in his clothes, sure, but god damn he’s ten times more beautiful out of them. Infinite smooth, golden skin lays beneath your greedy fingers, a dusting of fine hair contouring the plane of his chest and down below his waistband. Your mouth waters and you tug impatiently at his jeans.
“Someone’s eager.” He chuckles, low and husky, standing to drop both pants and boxers. Oh. Good God.
“Oh, you have no idea.” You only break your eyes away to grab a condom before you shove him on his back and straddle those strong thighs. "I've been wanting to get your clothes off since the second I laid eyes on you."
"Trust me," he breathes - no, borderline growls - and you shutter, walls fluttering at how fucking empty you are and just how fucking bad you need him inside of you right now. "The feeling's mutual."
He’s big all over, just like you expected, and even rolling the latex over his thick shaft has you shivering in anticipation. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by the gigantic man beneath you and before you can react, he’s rolling his hips with a moan that takes your breath away. It takes immense focus to speak through your gasp.
“Don’t finish this before it’s even started, Winchester.” He laughs at your warning, fingers digging into your thighs and ass. Oh, this man is going to wreck you, you just know it.
“You have so little faith in me?” A quip lies on your tongue, something about having no faith at all, but that melts into a strangled moan the second his fat head presses past your opening. “Oh, Christ.” He hisses, teeth clenched and head thrown back in unadulterated pleasure at the feel of you, your hips rolling slowly as you try your best to take the overwhelming size of him. Your fingers digging into supple pecs does nothing to ebb the overwhelming feeling of Sam spearing you open.
“Leave him outta this.” You quip, sinking down the rest of the way - finally. You both shiver at the feeling of him fully seated in you before you start rocking against him.
Not much else is said - not much else needed to be said - as the two of you chase relief and distraction in each other.
The stretch burns in the best way and you realize you're going to be feeling this for days. Every step, every shift is going to take you right back here - your hands splayed out on sculpted pecs, Sam's angelic and angular face contorted in ecstasy as he does his best to keep his eyes open and watch you ride him for everything he's worth. Those big hazel eyes blink up at you, fluttering and rolling at a particularly deep stroke before they're suddenly open - fiery and determined. There's no time to even tease or question before he's pistoning up into you, his marble body rubbing yours in such a way that has you gasping for air, his massive hands splayed over your ass to keep you exactly where he wants you. Sloppy thrusts turn to rocking hips and the new angle has your toes curling.
His cock grazes just the right spot with every rock of his hips, both of you whispering moans and groans of the other’s name. You do your best to keep up, rolling your tired hips when you can, nails biting into his skin when you have to focus solely on not imploding right where you are.
Your orgasm crests, and you beg him to go faster - to take control - and he does, practically throwing you onto your back to angle you the exact way he wants to. The height difference is dizzying - even with you on your back and him on his haunches - all you can see while he hammers into you is the brand on his chest. You itch to bite into the ink, to make him mewl against your skin once more but all rational thought flies out the window when his thumb reaches between your splayed legs, presses in tight, dizzying circles, and sends you spiraling into oblivion as aftershock after aftershock rocks your nerves.
In the aftermath of it all - after you’ve seen white from the intense pleasure he milked out of you - you lie in a daze. Memorizing the way his hands feel as he wipes some of his spend off your chest. Jesus, the sounds that man had made when he came...you have half a mind to tie him down and never let him leave - your sister's 'orders' be damned.
“It’s past curfew, y'know?” You remind him, fingers tracing the divots and curves of his abdomen. God, he’s perfect. You could spend hours memorizing every inch of skin. Pity said skin disappears behind thick flannel once more. You bite back a disappointed groan, casting your eyes over his massive stature. You don't think you'll ever get over just how small he makes you feel - in the best possible way, of course. Especially when he flashes that perfect fucking smile at you, dimples and all.
“Yeah? What about it?” He urges, a shit-eating grin playing at his lips as he dares you to ask him to stay. You sit up on your knees then, leveling yourself with his chest and drag your fingers down once more. "Something you want to say, Y/N?" If possible, his grin grows wider when you crook an eyebrow at him, beckoning him to your level with a come hither finger to match.
“If you’re waiting for me to ask you to stay, Sam Winchester," you whisper, lips ghosting over his own and you take great pride in the way his sinfully long lashes flutter against the tops of his sharp cheeks. "You can keep waiting.” The low groan that escapes his throat when you cup him once more makes you ache in the absolute best way. You're seconds away from throwing your pride to the wind and pulling him back into bed with you. But this is the end of the world after all. No doubt he has other pressing matters to attend to.
“Yeah, well, as much as I would love to…I should get back before Dean gets worried.” Disappointment laces his words, but you’re both too grown-up for any fairytale crap. Your life felt like more a horror lately than a fantasy, anyway. So, with incredibly gentle fingers, he pulls your hand toward his lips, grazing them over your knuckles as his eyes bore into yours. Hmm, he plays dirty.
“Yeah…my dad’s probably expecting me at the church.” You offer lamely, though there's probably some truth to it. Not one night goes by without a demon attack or a vision from the chosen sister. You're surprised you haven't been interrupted by a frantic call from your father already, as a matter a fact. He smiles at you again, your heart running rampant as he's tossing the towel down to wrap his arms around your waist once more. The look in his eyes and the hardness pressing into your belly are tempting enough, but you manage to grit out a warning "Sam..."
“And here you are, sinning with the outsider.” He rumbles, smirking as his eyes drink in your face for - most likely - the last time. You return his smile, reeling him in for one last kiss...or twelve.
“Yeah, well, if I’m going to hell anyway, may as well make the road there fun.”
If only you knew the literal hell that awaited you in the next few hours…
FIN
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