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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 months

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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.”

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gallavichsreddie1128 · 2 months

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Older (Dean Winchester)

Description: Y/N has a crush on Dean but they have a 20 year age gap. How does Dean react when she finally tells him?

Warning: Smut, Age Gap

Word Count: 1,743k

Y/N watched Dean as he washed Baby. His big muscular arms on display with the tight white shirt that had dirt on it. Baby was soapy and wet as Dean wiped her down. Y/N was trying not to drool as he went in circular motions cleaning the car. She was too into the scene in front of her; she didn’t notice Sam coming up to her side. “Stare any longer he might just notice your obvious crush on him.” He said to me, making her snap out of it. She turned towards him and rolled her eyes. He chuckled and handed her a beer. She took it from him and took a drink. “Ya think maybe he’s too old for you.” He said. Y/N pushed him and they both laughed. She sighed and looked at Dean again. He was pouring water on the soapy car. She sighed and got up from her spot and walked into the house. She needed a cold shower to erase the dirty thoughts from her mind.

It was days later that she’d be staring at the older man as he made breakfast. They had just come back from a hunt and Y/N was hungry so Dean offered to cook for her. Sam was getting some sleep but the other two were wide awake. “How do you like your eggs?” He asked her as he got them out of the fridge. “Over easy.” She said and he cracked the two eggs on the pan. She watched as he put the bread in the toaster. “You really didn’t have to make me anything.” She said as Dean put the eggs on the plate. “But I wanted to. You deserve it putting up with us.” She laughed as he set the eggs and toast in front of her. She thanked him. “Well I like putting up with you guys.” She said. He got his plate and sat across from her. “What, you got a crush on one of us?” He joked but she didn’t laugh. “Nah we’re probably too old for you anyway.” He said. She stared at him without saying anything. She shook her head and went back to eating her food. “Yeah totally.” She said.

She woke up 7 hours later in bed and yawned. She remembered the cringey things Dean asked her this morning and she sighed. She thought for a second when he asked her that she was caught. Luckily Dean was oblivious.She got out of bed and stretched. She walked out of her room and noticed Dean at the table on the computer. “Where’s Sam?” She asked. “Grocery Shopping.” He said and nodded and sat down across from him. He looked up from the computer at her. “So back to early convo you probably like Jack don’t you?” He asked. She looked at him confused. “No, not the antichrist.” She laughed. “Do you even like anybody?” He asked. “Dean, can we not talk about this?” She asked not wanting to expose herself. “Yeah sure.” He said and went back to research. The silence now,awkward and unwanted.

Why was Dean so curious about who she had feelings for or if she did? She honestly thought that Dean was too old for her but that’s how she liked it. They were eating dinner and she had a glass of wine. Dean sat across from her and Sam sat next to Dean. Jack and Cas sat next to her. Everyone was in a conversation except her. She never talked much while eating. She sometimes butted in with Jack and Cas but other than that kept quiet. Dean noticed her silence and wondered if it was about his question earlier. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable. After dinner was over she helped him clean up.

She didn’t say anything to him so he figured he thought correct. “I’m sorry about the question earlier. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” He said. She looked at him. “You didn’t.” She said and poured herself some more wine. “If I did I would completely understand-” “Dean.” She interrupted him. He looked over at her and she was holding the wine and her upper body on the table a little. Her boobs are perfectly on display. “What are you-” She took a sip of wine and smirked. “I told myself I’d never fuck anyone old enough to be my dad.” She states. He stares at her in shock. She stood up and walked closer to him. “That was until I met you.” She said seductively. “Wait you like me?” He asked her confused but kinda turned on.

She nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “And before you give me any of that age bullshit. I’m 22 i’m an adult.” He stared at her as her hands ran over his chest. “You have no idea what you do to me Dean.” She says and her hands lower themselves to the bottom of his shirt. She tugs on it and he looks down seeing what she was doing. “Y/N are you sure?” He asked her. She looked up at him with lustful eyes. “Are you sure Dean? Think you can handle me, old man?” He chuckled and picked her up and threw her over his shoulder.She laughed as he took her to his room. He threw her on the bed and smirked. “I’m 42 sweetheart not 72.” He said and took off his shirt revealing his amazing body. She was almost drooling at the sight. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over her.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and brought him down in a kiss. He moved his lips against hers as his hands traveled her body. He lifts her tank top up a bit and she pulls away from the kiss. She sits up and removes it showing her white bra. He looks down at her boobs and cups them. “Wow you’re so sexy.” He says and moves his hands to her back. He unclips the bra and she lets it fall freeing her boobs. He smirks at the sight and leans down to put one of her nipples in his mouth. She gasps his name and her hands go to his head as he licks and sucks. Her hands moved to his jeans and she cupped his growing erection. He moans against her nipple. “Dean take these off.” She breathes out. He pulls away from her nipple and gets up to remove his jeans. He pulls them down along with his boxers. She moves herself to the end of the bed and pulls him closer to her. “I didn’t know if I want you in my mouth or inside of me.” She says and he chuckles. Her eyes staring at his long hard cock. “Both would be ideal but right now I really need to be inside of you.” He tells her and pushes her back on the bed.

She smiles as he pulls down her panties. He gets back on her and kisses her again. She runs her hands up and down his muscular back. He pulls away and sighs into her mouth as he lines himself up with her entrance. He pushes in slowly and she gives a sharp gasp. “Are you okay?” He asked. She nods. He pushes in deeper and her noises fill his ear. She hadn’t had sex with many people and certainly not with a guy this big before. Once he was in her all the way he let her adjust to him. They stare at each other as she adjusts to him. He got lost in her eyes not believing that this was happening right now. She pulled him out of his thoughts when she thrusted up. She moaned as the pain was gone and she was full of pleasure. He started moving his hips and she let out little moans. Her eyes closed and her mouth opened. He didn’t let his eyes close as he watched her facial expressions. He groaned as her hips started matching his. She grabs his neck and moans his name. “You’re so fucking beautiful.” He breathes out and she opens her eyes to look at him. “You feel so good inside of me.” She whimpers. He leans down and starts kissing her neck. She gasped and pulled him closer if that was possible. “Dean, go faster.” She begged and he moved as fast as he could.His hips pounding into her hard and fast making the bed screech. His lips left marks on her neck. Neither of them cared at the moment.

He pulled out of her some and angled his hips. He slammed back in her and hit her g spot making her scream. He covered her mouth with his hand. “Gotta remember sweetheart we aren’t the only ones here.” He groans in her ear. She tried to keep her sounds to a minimum but with him pounding at her g spot that didn’t work. “Dean, you feel too good.” She mumbles in his hand. He nods. “Fuck I know baby. You feel amazing.” He moans. She felt herself getting closer and closer to the edge. He was twitching inside of her signaling that he was close too. “Baby I'm close.” She moaned and he groaned out a me too. She gasped out feeling him fill her up which triggered her orgasm. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as her orgasm hit her. She bit her lip trying to hold back the loud noises that threatened to spill from her. Her hips moved up as she rode out her high. Dean watched her and almost became hard again. Her hips slowed and she opened her eyes seeing Dean already looking at her. “That was hot.” He smirked. She rolled her eyes. “Yeah well thanks to you.” She smirked back. He pulled out of her causing her to moan.

He got up and went to the bathroom and got a wet towel. He came back and cleaned her and him up. “Such a gentleman.” She teased. He laughed and threw the towel in the laundry bin. He collapsed next to her and yawned. “Tired old man?” He turned to look at her. “Baby I could go another 5 rounds.” He said. She turned towards him and smirked. “Prove it.” She said and he smirked. Sam couldn’t sleep that night but Dean and Y/N weren’t complaining.

#dean winchester #supernatural #spn #sam winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester imagine #dean winchester smut #jensen ackles #jared padalecki

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casdeans-pie · 7 months

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If I could pitch season 16 of Supernatural:

Dean wakes up and it turns out that everything from 15x18 was an Empty Nightmare because he actually grabbed Cas just before he got taken, so got pulled in too.

Sam and Jack have been trying to get them both out for 5 years.

Jack still got the God Powers but he's whimsical with them and retains his personality. He wants to try and preserve human free will. But also helps in small ways where he can. (and still pops into the bunker for a bowl of cereal from time to time)

Sam is the 'new Bobby' in the MOL bunker - sending out hunters and knowing all the lore about all the monsters. (Also he practices witchcraft on the side)

No blurry wife - Sam and Eileen are engaged - and no Dean Jr. But! they are considering having a kid soon. And! They can get married now that Dean and Cas are back!

Dean and Cas heartfelt reunion!!! Clinging hug!!!! Never let me go again!!!! We're not talking about the confession but we both want to!!!!! etc etc

Cas is still an angel and Jack offers to make him an archangel !! Cas feels like he should say yes out of obligation (even if he doesn't want to leave) but Dean actually FINALLY asks him. to stay? (Cas immediately declines Jack's offer)

Dean struggles with the memories of his Empty Nightmare. (It was just SO bad. But also he tries to describe Old Man Sam and his bad hair and that cheers him up.)

The original Death is back because he never really died, he just didn't want to be involved in all the Winchester shenanigans. But he's back now that all the world-ending chaos is over. (Tessa is also back as his second-in-command)

Billie is the new ruler over the Empty, and it's a place of eternal rest now. Very peaceful. Meg is there and she's having a great time relaxing.

Crowley comes back as a human for a second chance. He's still kind of an ass but he's lovable with it.

Lots of reunions and cameos. It's magic you can bring all sorts of characters back to life - a lot of them died unfairly in the first place. Bring them all back!

Dean! and! Cas! Kiss!

I want all the genres of kiss. Confused. Desperate. Relieved. Passionate. Tender.

The season is all very character focused and character driven and ties up any loose ends the show had left.

The drama comes from internal character struggles and with Dean and Cas figuring out where they fit into this 5 years on world now. (The answer is together doing whatever they want to and Dean comes to the realisation he wants to retire, but he struggles with reconciling that he wants to retire and Sam doesn't and they have to go on different paths now).

The series ends with the big Sam/Eileen wedding and it's just a huge party and gathering of all the cameos you can possibly think of. Friends, family, frenemies, some beloved characters who only appeared in one episode... they're all there.

Dean proposes to Cas by taking the loop from Baby's keys out of his pocket and getting down on one knee and using it like a ring stand-in (it's way too big but it's symbolic and cheesy and sweet and it doesn't matter)

Of course he says yes.

The end.

#this is barely coherent but I just had to get this all down asdfghjkl #spn s16 #destiel #post canon destiel #spn finale fix it

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 5 months

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No Big Deal

Sam and Dean Winchester & little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You refuse to bring up your stomachache to your brothers, but what happens when it turns out to be bigger than you thought?

It had started out as just an ache at first. You had woken up yesterday with random occasional pains hitting your gut. You’d ignored it, figuring it was just some sketchy diner food that wouldn’t settle.

Then today, it just got worse. The pain was constant, and the dull ache had upgraded to a stabbing sensation that hit you whenever you moved. There was no way it was just indigestion, but it still hadn’t reached the point where it felt like your brothers needed to know.

They were working on a case, and the last thing they needed was for their little sister distracting them with the whole, “my stomach hurts”. It was way too wimpy for a Winchester.

“Hey N/N, can you clean some weapons while Sammy and me check out the scene?” Dean spoke up. You stood to make your way to the table where the weapons were laid out, but a sharp pain to your side caused a harsh breath to leave you, and you couldn’t hold back the wince that flitted across your face.

“You alright?” Dean’s voice snapped you back to attention, and you pretended nothing was wrong.

“Yeah, fine.”

Dean hesitated for a moment before shrugging and following Sam out the door.

…

It got worse as the week wore on. Every day the pain got worse, and every day you convinced yourself that it would go away eventually. Your brothers still didn’t know, although you were almost certain that they suspected you. Dean was keeping an annoyingly close watch on you, and Sam kept asking if you were ok.

One day, the three of you were returning from a hunt when it finally happened. You had just stepped into the motel room when a sharp stab to your cut had you doubled over, a cry escaping your lips before you could even think to hold it back.

“Y/N!” Dean’s hands on your shoulders snapped you out of your panicked daze, and you took a few deep breaths to try to stabilize yourself, but the pain just got worse. “Y/N, baby talk to me, what’s going on? What hurts?”

You couldn’t answer, couldn’t focus. The pain kept getting worse and worse, until darkness lined your vision, spreading like spilled water across your eyes until you couldn’t see anything at all.

And then suddenly, it didn’t hurt anymore.

…

“She’s incredibly lucky. If her appendix had burst, this would be much harder.”

“Dean?” You awoke to find yourself surrounded by strange sounds, strange voices, and strange smells, but when you called for your big brother he responded immediately.

“Hey sweetheart.” Dean’s face was the first thing you saw when you opened your eyes, and you felt his hands gripping yours. “You feeling any better?”

“Not really,” you mumbled. “What’s going on?”

“We should get her into surgery as soon as possible, her appendix could still burst.”

“Surgery?” You tried to sit up, but Dean held you down.

“Hey, kid, don’t. You’ll make it hurt worse.”

“Are you sure she needs surgery?” Sam cut in. “She can’t take antibiotics?”

“It’s too severe,” the doctor responded. “We’ll have to remove her appendix.”

“I don’t want to have surgery.” Your hand tightened around Dean’s.

“It’s not a complicated surgery,” the doctor assured.

“See kid? You won’t even notice it’s gone.” Dean’s easygoing smile tempered the butterflies fluttering sickeningly in your stomach.

“And we’ll be waiting for you when you get out,” Sam said. “Promise.”

As soon as the doctor left to consult a surgeon, Dean’s hand squeezed yours, catching your attention.

“How long have you known?” Dean asked.

“Known what?”

“That something was wrong.” You sensed a shift in Dean’s voice; he was angry.

“I-I thought it was just a stomachache.”

“Don’t,” Dean huffed. “It hurt way more than that, it had to. Why didn’t you say anything?”

You just shrugged, turning your focus to your shaking hands.

“I didn’t think it was that bad.”

“You didn’t think at all!”

“Dean,” Sam cut in. “Easy.”

“This could’ve gone so much worse, kid. Do you get that?”

“Yes,” you mumbled. “I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care,” Dean said honestly. “I just care that you don’t do that ever again. If you’re hurt, you tell us. Understand?”

You nodded, and that seemed to satisfy Dean. The three of you lapsed into silence for several seconds, and in that time the nervous butterflies returned to your stomach in full force.

“I don’t wanna have surgery, Dean,” you whispered. You closed your eyes, gripping his hand, as he leaned over and kissed the side of your head.

“I know kid, but it’s not a dangerous one. You’ll be out before you know it, it’s no big deal.”

“And you’ll be right here?”

“Me and Sammy won’t move a muscle, I swear.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

“Ok then. No big deal.”

Taglist:

@nyotamalfoy

@mrvlxgrl

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princessmisery666 · 3 months

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Just Say You Love Me

Summary: Dean is trying to embrace his emotions and look to the future. Part 3 of 3. Part 2 - The Right Guy On Paper.

Warnings/Genres/Troupes: fluff, mentions of cheating.

W/C: 4,901.

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Mentioned: Jody Mills.

Pairing: Dean x fem!reader (you - no descriptions of body type or ethnicity).

Bingo: @jacklesversebingo Square Filled: ”Would you please, shut up, I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

A/N: Obviously this was supposed to posted on a certain day (you'll get what I mean when you read) but it just wasn't where I wanted it to be at the time so I waited. Two-ish weeks later ain't bad though.

Graphics: made by be on canva. Dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: JAcklesVerseBingo / Dean Winchester / Main

Pulling off the highway, Dean grumbles, “This is stupid,” to himself again. Yet, he had called Jody to make sure you weren’t working, made the two-hour drive, and hadn't veered off route to the nearest bar.

It’s been a few weeks since he saw you at Jody’s cabin. You’ve spoken on the phone a few times and met him halfway to Kentucky to give him a lore book Claire had borrowed. But no in-depth conversations have been had, which he’s okay with because one, it’s a conversation to be had in person and not while he is neck deep in a case, and B, he doesn’t know what to say or how to tell you what he wants because he’s still not sure himself.

So, in the safe confines of Baby, he asks himself again why is he driving to your house on Unattached Drifter Christmas or ‘Valentine’s Day’ for the schmucks?

Before he can do a little soul-searching and find the answer, his cell phone rings.

“Hey Sam, what’s up?” he answers.

“Why are you in Sioux Falls? Something wrong?”

“Everything’s fine. Wait, how do you know where I am?”

“You were way too vague about where you were going. You always have a plan for today,” Sam explains, “figured you were up to no good and better keep an eye on you in case you get into trouble like last time.”

“Last time was almost five years ago, and for the hundredth time, I didn’t know she was married,” Dean snarks.

“Plus, you didn’t turn off your GPS,” Sam says as if he hadn’t heard Dean’s argument. “So why are you in Sioux Falls on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He falters for a second, thinking of an excuse, and before his pause becomes suspicious, he blurts, “There’s a new bar opened up. Wanna try it out.”

“This bar called Y/N’s, by any chance?”

“What? No!”

Sam laughs, and that all-knowing chuckle reminds Dean that Sam is onto him and there’s no point in denying anything. “It’s a good thing, Dean,” his brother assures him. “You may not have told her outright, but she’s smart. She’ll recognize you showing up today, of all days, is your way of telling her you want…” Dean waits, hoping that Sam will impart the answer that eludes him, but huffs in defeat when his brother adds, “Whatever it is you want.”

“This is stupid,” Dean grumbles, “I’m being stupid.”

“No, it's not,” Sam scolds. “I’m sure today will be tough for her. So, just being there for her is a good thing. It doesn’t have to be deep conversations. Showing up and supporting her is enough.”

Dean considers that Sam is probably right, but it doesn’t make him feel any less insecure. “Maybe.”

“Have fun,” Sam says before hanging up.

Five minutes from his final destination, his phone chimes, alerting him to a text message.

Jody: She’s at Lucky Shots, fifth wheeling it.

“Dammit, Sam!” he snarls, but he’s not really mad, saves him a trip to her empty house.

The break at Jody’s cabin was revitalizing, and the feeling has stuck for the few weeks you’ve been back in your routine. It probably helps that you removed every trace of Luke from your life the moment you got home. The confrontation with Dean was cathartic, too. You’ve analyzed what he’d said about not wanting you to meet someone new and that he missed you, and asked Jody for her opinion, too. She’d wistfully smiled as if aware of something you weren’t, “Maybe you gave up on him too quickly.”

You didn’t want to admit that Jody was probably right. Yet you had made assumptions, choosing to believe that he didn’t want anything serious, and after admitting to yourself that you wanted something more, you had decided to go out and find it somewhere else.

That realization turned out to be at the forefront of your mind today. You're thankful to your friends, Laura and Sara, for the invitation and for not allowing you to stay home and eat your emotions. Being the fifth wheel isn’t the issue. It doesn’t bother you, even on Valentine’s Day. They chose a lowkey, casual games bar, not some romantic, candlelit restaurant, and for that, you are eternally grateful. The issue is Luke is there. It could be worse. He could be with her, but fortunately, he’s with two of his buddies.

The bar has darts, beer pong, pool, skee ball, knock down a clown, and a few other amusements. You're locked into a tight game of girls versus boys beer pong - the beer having been replaced with tequila shots - and you can feel Luke’s every glance as if he’s waiting for an opportunity to approach.

It’s the last thing you want, and your friends were kind enough to offer to leave when he arrived, but you stubbornly refused. You had no reason to leave. He should be filled with so much shame and regret that he can’t bear to face you, but he has the audacity to look like a wounded puppy, and that makes you angry.

The game is down to the wire, and the final ball is down to Chris and Dylan, your friends' partners. Dylan massages Chris’ shoulders, “Come on, buddy, you got this. For the win!”

You all hold your breath as Chris releases the ball, and the boys celebrate the victory with loud cheers as it lands in the cup, having barely touched the sides. You, Laura, and Sara shoot another round of tequila. The sourness of the lemon you suck on adds to the disapproving look you catch Luke throwing your way.

Asshole. How dare he judge you!

“I demand a rematch!” Laura declares.

You agree. “My turn to buy the drinks.”

Sara escorts you to the bar. Though she masks it as helping you carry the drinks back to the table, you know she’s doing it to protect you from an unwanted visitor.

“I need the bathroom, but I’ll meet you back here,” Sara tells you, “if he comes over before I make it back, stomp on his foot and poke him in the eye.”

You laugh, really belly laugh, because she’s totally serious, and it’s also hilarious to think he’d have the balls to actually approach you.

“Who’re we looking out for, honey?” the elderly woman beside you asks, lips pursed and looking sassy.

Sara tells her, “Other end of the bar, tall white guy, blond hair.”

“Green shirt?” she asks for confirmation.

“That’s the one.”

“Uh-huh,” she tuts, “I know the type, handsome as an angel, spirit of the devil. You go on to the bathroom. I’ve got your friend until you get back.”

You don’t doubt the lady’s confidence. You wouldn’t mess with her.

“Thank you, Miss…”

“Call me Beverly,” she introduces, and Sara shakes her hand before skittering off to the bathroom.

You wait your turn to be served, listening to your protector tell you all about her first husband, “the devil incarnate.”

If only she knew.

You face forward, not even side-glancing in Luke’s direction, not wanting to give him any inclination you may want to talk. You don’t. Beverly turns and rests her back against the bar to see the whole room without looking over her shoulder.

“Oh, sweetie,” your new friend says, “there’s another one of those handsome-as-an-angel men walking this way, and I think he’s looking for you.”

You still don’t turn, but look up into the mirror behind the bar and see him. Dean maneuvering around people and tables, coming straight toward you.

Unintentionally, you gasp, a sheepish smile creeping in as you lock eyes with him in the mirror.

“From that reaction, I don’t think you need help with this one,” Beverly says, sweetly taking a step to the left to make room for Dean.

“Hey,” he says, a half smile making him look a little awkward.

“Hey,” you say as he leans in to kiss your cheek, and when he’s close, you whisper, “Everything okay?”

He pulls back, nodding with a slight frown as if the question was offensive or something. “Yeah, everything is fine, just passing through and wanted to say hi.”

“Passing through?” you ask, suspicion clear in your tone.

His frown deepens, clearly trying to sell the lie, pretending to be confused by the suspicion.

You smirk. “Just happen to be passing through on Unattached Drifter Christmas?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head. “How much do you and Sam talk?”

“A lot,” you confess, “emails, phone calls, memes, and then there’s the weekly newsletter.”

“Busted.” He laughs, and it shakes off whatever anxiety he was feeling.

The bartender comes over and takes your order. You add on whatever Beverly is drinking for the rest of the night, which reminds you Sara has been gone a while. You turn around to look for her, and Dean looks over his shoulder. Sara’s back at the table. All of them are staring at you but quickly and comically turn around as if they weren’t when Dean finds them.

“Sorry,” you chuckle, “they’re just looking out for me cause Deputy Dick is here.”

“Shit,” he grumbles. “Is me being here going to be a problem?”

“Probably, but that's his problem.”

Dean laughs, and you really have missed it. The easy relationship you had seems to be a thing of the past, but you want it back. Maybe not the sex because you’ve realized that's where the problem lies. You want more from him than you'll ever get, but at least the friendship could be mended.

“But don’t waste your Christmas on me, Dean,” you say. It's subtle but enough to tell him that hooking up is off the table.

That disgruntled frown appears again, and he looks genuinely offended. “I’m not here ‘cause I think I’m gonna get laid.” He explains, shrugging. “Running into you isn’t a coincidence. I was on my way to your place because I didn’t want you to be alone tonight. Jody told me where you were.”

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that?”

“Take it for what it is,” Dean suggests. “I’m trying.”

You can work with that. Trying to be friends sounds like just what you need. No pressure or expectations from either side, so you quickly squash the thought that it means something deeper that he’s choosing to spend time with you instead of finding a warm body to lie with.

“Okay.” You smile, trying to look as sweet as possible. “Well, can part of that trying be helping us win at beer pong?”

“Girls versus boys?”

“Obviously.”

He scoffs, “Absolutely not! And you get an extra shot for asking me to rig a sacred game.” He hands you a shot off the tray of drinks, and you knock it back.

He watches you, grinning the whole time, and you shake your head as if it will shake away the taste. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” he says, leaning down to kiss your cheek.

“Don’t try and soften me up, Winchester,” you warn, “I’m not gonna take it easy on you.”

He shrugs, “Was worth a shot,” and walks away with the tray of drinks.

Chris and Dylan merrily call his name as he approaches, and you follow, smiling fondly.

“Now the odds are even. Prepare to go down, ladies,” Dean says, taking off his jacket and rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to his elbow.

The games continued; the boys won at Beer Pong, but the girls won two rounds of darts. Once Chris and Dylan had gushed over the Impala, you said your goodbyes in the parking lot. Each of your friends hugged you. Dean got a kiss on the cheek from the ladies, and the guys gave him a firm handshake before pulling each other into a one-armed hug. It looked natural and easy, and you love how well Dean slots into the group.

You realize you’re staring as he drives, and he glances over when he feels your eyes on him. “Are we still social distancing or something?” he jokes, reaching a hand over to tug on your leg, requesting you get closer.

You oblige, sliding over the leather seat, and he slips an arm behind your shoulders to rest on the seat back. “Thank you for that,” you say, kissing his cheek.

“For what?” he asks.

“Pretending like you couldn’t hit that bullseye with your eyes closed.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be a mechanic, right? Not sure a mechanic would have perfect marksmanship.”

“If you’re not sold on the mechanic thing, you can always tell them you’ve changed your profession,” you suggest, and with a teasing wink, add, “but they all already know you’re good with your hands.”

“Would you, for once, get your mind out of the gutter?” Dean jests, “I already told you, no sex for you.”

“Sorry, Mr Winchester, sir,” you joke, “I’ll be on my best behavior.”

He laughs but looks out at the road. His fingers lightly brush your neck. You aren’t sure he realizes he’s doing it. When you were sleeping together, it became a thing - absentmindedly, he’d lightly stroke your skin while watching a movie or falling asleep. It's familiar and comforting, and you lay your head on his shoulder the rest of the ride home.

Dean follows you up your path, and while you search your bag for your keys, you notice him looking to the left, eyes squinting, trying to see something too far away.

“Wanna come in?” you ask, distracting him from whatever has caught his attention.

“It’s not a good idea,” he says, giving you his full focus, “I meant what I said, Y/N. I didn’t show up cause I was expecting to get laid.”

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t considered throwing caution to the wind and jumping into old habits. And you're surprised by Dean’s rejection. He could have followed your lead and taken you to bed without any objections.

“Presumptuous much?” you counter, smirking.

He smiles, all charm and smug joy, because he knows he’s right. “Don’t try and pretend you weren’t thinking about it.” He steps closer, crowding your space and gripping your hips to pull you against him. “You’ve been flirting with me all night.”

“I can stop,” you threaten, but it falls flat as you wrap your arms around his neck.

He grins, “No, you can’t,” against your lips, kissing you before you can claim otherwise.

The kiss is not hesitant; it’s deep and long, but you feel him holding back. His hands don’t roam, remaining wrapped around your waist, but he takes his time, savoring the shared warmth, each brush of your tongues, every breath shared.

Dean is the first to pull back. “I gotta go,” he swiftly kisses you again. “I told Jody I’d be there before midnight.”

“Gonna turn into a pumpkin, Winchester?”

He laughs, pecking your lips again, but then his features soften, something close to pleading, “I’m trying,” he grumbles, but you're not sure if it's to remind you or himself.

He doesn’t say exactly what it is that he’s trying, but you know he means he’s trying to do things the right way, and that’s enough. “You're doing great,” you assure.

He kisses you harder, tongue sweeping over your bottom lip, and you let him in. He walks you backward until your back hits your door, and he groans when he presses himself into you. “Nope,” he scolds himself, pulling back and comically jogging away down the path, but while you're still laughing at him, he turns back. “Can I take you to breakfast tomorrow?”

You smile, and it widens to a knowing grin. You spare him the OMG shock when the realization hits you, but you do ask, “Are we dating?”

“Only if you say yes?”

“Pick me up at ten.”

He winks, unable to contain the boyish grin, and just as he opens his mouth to say something, a siren blasts, and a sheriff’s car pulls up to Baby’s bumper.

You walk a few feet to stand beside Dean as Travis, the rookie, and Luke, in plain clothes, step out of the vehicle.

“You gotta be kidding me,” Dean says.

Luke and Travis stand beside each other on the sidewalk but don’t approach you.

“Ten out of ten for dramatic flair,” you snark, clapping once.

“But should have done it while I was kissing her,” Dean adds, “would have been way more dramatic.”

“I think you meant douchier,” you suggest with a confused frown.

“You’re right,” Dean clicks his fingers as if you're right on the money, “I meant douchier.”

“Funny,” Luke says. “Travis, this man has been driving under the influence. Please breathalyze him.”

You put a hand on Dean’s arm to keep him in place should he decide Luke deserves another punch to the face. After all, he’s not in uniform. Travis is wise enough not to move. You're his boss. Luke has seniority over him but not over you.

“Really?” Dean sneers. “That's all you got?”

“Go home, Luke,” you tell him, “you’re making a fool of yourself.”

“So what if I am,” he says, “I just wanna talk.”

“We’ve talked,” you remind him. “You talked, I listened to your piss poor excuses, and it changed nothing.”

“We were going to get married.”

You raise your voice, “That was a reaction to your cheating! You only asked me because you felt guilty, and I only said yes because…” you cut yourself off, but Dean looks at you, knowing what you had been about to say.

“We were good together,” Luke says, seemingly oblivious to the silent conversation that passed between you and Dean. “He’s just a,” Luke sneers at Dean. “What did you call it? A situationship.”

Dean tenses under your grip, and you know the comment had the intended effect. You’ll have to address it later.

Clenching his jaw, he briefly looks away before leveling a glare and taunting, “Dude, have some dignity. She’s already told you it’s over.” He practically growls his next words. “So leave.”

Luke ignores Dean, looking directly at you. “You're angry, I get it. But don’t make any rash decisions, please.” he implores.

“I was angry,” you agree, “I was furious, but now I’m indifferent. You were a rash decision, Luke, and I’m not saying that to be cruel or get back at you. It’s the truth.”

Saying those words aloud drives home your previous thoughts of why you started dating Luke. Getting engaged was a reaction to your feelings of rejection from Dean’s honesty about commitment. You release a breath as Luke’s face drops, finally seeming to understand.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

He shakes his head, blasting out a breath filled with disbelief. “We were never going to work out,” Luke realizes aloud, “you were too hung up on him.”

“Travis, I’m sorry you were dragged into this,” you sigh, “but please take Luke home.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Luke stares for a second longer, but chooses not to say anything further, allowing Travis to usher him into the car.

Dean doesn’t move, watching the car disappear from view at the end of the street. Your heart pounds in your chest; you’ve just gotten to a good place, and now that might have all been unraveled.

Though you suspect not a lot of it is surprising to Dean. The day you told him about Luke, he’d begged you not to tell him you loved him and he was right for the assumption that you did - or do or might. You can not say it even reject the idea if anyone suggests it, but you can’t deny it to yourself. You sought out Luke to replace the emotions you felt weren’t reciprocated by Dean.

“Maybe I should take you to breakfast,” you suggest, with a nervous chuckle, “to make up for that. I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, giving you a small smile. “Nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you, but he’s looking you over like he’s trying to read the emotions behind the words. “You okay?”

Quickly, you reply, “Yeah, of course.”

“You sure? You look like a bit of ‘deer caught in headlights’.”

“I’m okay,” you sigh, taking a deep breath. “Just a little worried that's undone all the progress we’ve made.”

“It hasn’t,” he tells you, slipping a hand on your hip and pulling you into him. “This situationship can handle an ex-situationship.”

You grimace, “I’m sorry.”

He laughs, nonplussed, “Don’t be. I’ve been called worse.”

He silences your next apology with a deep kiss and slowly, seemingly reluctantly, pulls back. “I’ll pick you up at ten for breakfast.”

You're rambling again. Since Valentine’s Day, it’s been happening a lot. Dean knows why you're doing it. He can see it in your expression every time you catch yourself and stutter over the words, changing it to something else and hoping he doesn’t notice.

The first time it happened, a few weeks ago, Dean thought he misheard you. You were both breathing heavily, your thighs pressed against his ears, holding him in place, writhing while you rode his tongue. He watched your face as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your body twitched, and your climax coated his tongue and wet the sheets, “I love yo…when you do that.”

Three days ago, after a double date with Sara and Dylan, Dean woke you up in bed with coffee and French toast. Still in the haze of sleep, you smiled contentedly, and it almost slipped out. “I love…” you coughed to cut yourself off, correcting it as you sat up, “I love French toast.” But he could see it in eyes, the adoration tainted with the fear of saying it aloud.

‘I love you’ is on the tip of your tongue, and it almost escaped a moment ago.

A car accident had kept you late at work, so the dinner reservations had to be canceled, but Dean wouldn’t let it ruin the night. He’d ordered pizza, knowing you’d be starving when you got home, run a bubble bath (with the ulterior motive of joining you), popped open a bottle of your favorite wine - he hated it, thought it tasted like vinegar - and was waiting in the middle of the living room for you with the glass in hand.

Taking the glass from him, you lazily kissed him. He could feel how tired you were. Listlessly, you mumbled, “Oh god, I love yo…” but had stifled it so quickly that the rim of the glass clinked against your teeth.

Clearly unable to think of an alternative, you began rambling about your day while unnecessarily blitzing around the already clean kitchen with a dishcloth.

He wants you to say it. He figured out how he felt about you when it finally sunk in after you’d told him you’d met someone else. It was more than physical, and it always had been. Otherwise, it wouldn’t have hurt so damn much when you told him about Luke.

He hasn’t said the words to you, but you have to know that’s how he feels. He told you he’s trying. Although, there haven’t been any conversations about exactly what that entails. He’s been more communicative. He’s made future plans - okay, only a week or so ahead at any given time, but that tells you all you need to know, right?

But the way you keep avoiding the phrase sets off a little ripple in his heart. Maybe you don’t know. Maybe you’re afraid he’ll hightail it out the door like last time if you say it aloud. Maybe he needs to expand his communication skills. He says your name softly, but you either don’t hear him or pretend not to, afraid of what comes after.

“I should get you a key cut,” you blabber in. “Save you having to pick the lock next time I’m not home. Don’t want the neighbors calling it in. Mrs Brooks next door is always twitching her curtains.”

He tries again, “Y/N,” louder this time.

“I need to put a load of laundry in,” you say, striding into the laundry room.

“I did it already,” he calls after you.

“I’ll put it in the dryer then.”

He follows, trapping you inside the smaller space so you have no choice but to turn and face him.

“The laundry is done and folded in the basket in your room.” he continues, speaking to your back. “The kitchen is clean. Pizza is on the way. The bath should still be hot.”

You finally look up at him, and there’s that apprehensive smile again, but your eyes are aglow with the words you chew your lip to suppress.

“Just say it,” he sighs, trying to hide his smile.

“Say what?”

He steps closer, crowding your space and using a gentle touch to tilt your head up to keep your eyes on his. “You know what.” He smirks, teasing, “You can’t bite your tongue forever. So just say you love me.”

“I wasn’t biting…” you stammer, “I never…I only meant I was going to get a key cut for you. I didn’t mean anything….”

“Would you please, shut up?” He silences your rambling with a hard kiss, grabbing your hips and hoisting you to sit on top of the dryer. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you sigh placidly, but he pulls back and grins, “I’m trying to confess my love for you.”

You drop your gaze, avoiding eye contact. “Please don’t.”

He notes your avoidance of looking at him, and panic sets in that maybe he’s got it wrong, again. But he hopes he’s right, so he chuckles, “giving me a taste of my own medicine.”

You shake your head, “No. I don’t need to hear it, and you don’t have to say it ‘cause you think it's what I want to hear.”

“That’s not what…” he tries, but you raise your voice to speak over him.

“Dean, please!” you wait for him to close his mouth. “I like how things are now, and I don’t want to jinx it or have to watch your ass run for the door again.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he promises, “it will be different this time.”

“We’ve been through this already. I don’t want promises, and we don’t need to open old wounds.”

“I get why you’re…”

The doorbell interrupts him, and you use the excuse to push him aside as you jump down and scurry out of the room.

He leans against the doorframe facing into the kitchen and listens to you thank the delivery guy. You must have given a generous tip because he thanks you multiple times as you say goodbye to him.

The click of the door closing echoes, and he waits for you to appear, but you don’t. He imagines you standing in the hallway, trying to calm yourself.

He waits, counting the seconds in his head with the promise that he’ll go find you if he reaches thirty.

At fifteen, you enter, eyes glued to the floor, pizza balanced like a cocktail waitress. “I’m gonna go take that bath,” you tell him. “Hopefully, it's still warm.”

You’re assuming the conversation is over. Only it isn’t. At least, not for him. He hasn’t been working up to it. He’s never had a grand plan for the first time he says it, but now he knows he needs to say it so you understand and believe him.

Silently, he watches you put a few slices of pizza on a plate - so he presumes he’s not invited to the bubble bath. The stopper gives an audible pop when you pull it from the wine bottle, like an exclamation point on his thoughts.

He clears his throat and proclaims, “I love you.”

The only indication that you heard him is your frozen state, bottle tipped, ready to pour into your glass.

“It took me too long to figure that out, but I do. And saying it or not saying it out loud isn’t going to change a damn thing.”

You continue to pour the wine into your glass but don’t turn to face him, recorking the bottle and resting against the countertop.

You haven’t run away, so he continues, “I always knew we were good together, but now I see that we have a whole future of being good together, not just the here and now.”

Hesitantly, he stalks closer to you, watching you take a large gulp of the red liquid. You must hear his approach because you turn around but jump slightly at his proximity.

“I’m ready to move forward,” he confesses, “and I want to do it with you.”

“Are you done?” you ask, finally looking up at him with a teasing but joyful smirk under a shy gaze. “You’re on a roll there. I just want to be sure before I say anything.”

He laughs but shakes his head once, “Nope.” He takes the glass from your hand and puts it beside the bottle. “One more thing,” he leans in closer, tilting your chin up, lips whispering over yours, “I love you.”

You chase his lips as he pulls back, “C’mon, you know you want to,” he teases, making no attempt to hide his smugness. He’s got you right where he wants you. “Just say you love me.”

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crushedbyhyperbole · 2 months

Text

Cherry Pie Kiss

Slice Three

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: You're cornered and chased by Bartholomew's minions. Separated from Sam and Cas, you and Dean make a run for it. Lust finds you both when you're finally safe. Dean rocks your world.

Words: 3.4k

A/N: This is smutty part 3 of what's now looking like a longer series since I've settled on a cute, fluffy and smutty part 4. At this point I don't think I'll ever be sated in my need for this man but Im so not sorry about it 😂

I do hope you enjoy part 3. If you haven't read parts 1 and 2 check out the Cherry Pie Kiss Masterlist. As always, I value your comments and feedback. Drop a dime and let me know what you think.

Warnings: Smut. Canon-typical action/adventure. Running for your lives. Bit of angst.

*** 18+ Minors Do Not Read or Interact ***

Dean Winchester. You hate him. His stubbornness and stoic grace. His tenacity and faith that, no matter what, you guys will get it done if you stick together. The way his eyes pierce you down to your soul when he stares. At least that’s what you try to tell yourself, hoping that others will believe it too. Truth is, you’re just as stubborn as he is, holding onto this façade when hatred is so far from what you feel.

Dean sits behind Baby’s wheel, having stormed away from the Gas’n’Sip in frustration. His eyes follow your every move and your body language as you and Sam try to convince Cas, for the umpteenth time, to come with you. Dean had taken it personally when Cas had refused, and after several attempts at reasoning, bargaining, and begging, Dean had given up, choosing to sit out any further attempts at persuasion.

You look over at the black Impala with its radiant chrome and glossy darkness. The man inside looks away out to road not wanting the hurt, so plain on his face, to be seen.

“I’ll be back in a sec,” you say to Sam, touching his forearm gently as he continues to reason with the fallen Angel.

You feel compelled to at least try to comfort Dean. Since you two had talked that night in the dingy room-only motel out in Crocker, you had maintained a stable yet strained connection. You had still been pissed at him for using you and Sam as bait so you had sent him back to his room with another kiss and the promise of “when I’m ready”. Since then, you two had never been alone for more than a few minutes; there was always Sam, or witnesses, or monsters.

Dean’s head snaps your way when you pull the door open, his face schooled into that smooth mask he wears when he’s hurt but unwilling to be vulnerable. Cas’s decision has really hit him hard.

Sliding in the passenger side, you angle yourself towards him and reach to take one of his hands which is picking at the fingernails of his other. Ordinarily, you wouldn’t risk such a gesture but with Sam a couple of hundred meters away and the height of the dash to obscure it, you’re not worried.

Dean allows the contact, his head hanging. “Cas made his choice.” His voice is low and gravelly with emotion.

“Doesn’t mean he can’t change his mind.” You reason, trying not to throw fuel on the fire.

“He knows where I am if he does.” He states, matter of fact. “I’m not wasting another breath on him.”

“He’s your best friend.”

“You’re my best friend.” Dean looks at you and squeezes your hand which is entwined with his, resting on his thigh. “You and Sam.”

“I’m just some girl you want to fuck.” You chuckle, and Deans lips quirk a subtle smirk briefly before he replies.

The words don’t come out, however. Dean catches movement at the side of the Gas’N’Sip, and he drops your hand to turn over the engine, thrusting the heel of his other hand on Baby’s horn as he does so.

Sam and Cas look in your direction and then see the four figures walking quickly and with purpose, coming between them and the Impala. Shit! Angels. Bartholomew’s minions, no doubt. How have they found you again?

“Son of a bitch!” Dean hisses, cranking the car into drive, kicking up stones in the gravel lot as the wheels spin, gaining traction to take you to Sam and Cas.

You fumble your seatbelt, sliding on the seat and right into Dean with a grunt as he swerves to avoid a blacked-out Escalade that grinds to a halt between you and your friends.

Sam and Cas are already on the move, running fast towards the gold Lincoln pimpmobile Cas had somehow acquired, Sam waving Dean off as they scramble into the car and peel out of the lot before the Angels could reach them. You, however, are stuck. With the Escalade and four fallen angels between you and the lot exit, Dean turns the wheel, locking it out and put his foot on the gas, spinning the car around with an horrific noise from the tyres. At the back of the lot is a chainlink fence with a gate that leads to a dirt road which split in two, one branch heading to the highway, the other into scrubland that precedes a dense-looking woodland. You can lose them in the trees.

Dean winces as he ploughs baby through the chainlink gate, lamenting the damage that is sure to be done, and turns the car towards the highway.

“We can lose them in the trees,” you cry, point to the woods.

“Baby doesn’t have the ground clearance for it,” Dean says roughly, manoeuvring the car through a side-on skid with the heel of his hand on the wheel and his other hand gripping the side of the seat to stop himself from sliding as the car spins. Once straight, he slams his food on the gas and burns rubber onto the tarmac, heading in the opposite direction to Sam and Cas.

You know he’s right about the car. The Escalade is 4x4 and sits high which gives it the advantage off road in the woods when the trail inevitably turns to a glorified hiking path. You’re not even sure the highway is a much better option given that Baby is an older, classic car, but you know Dean keeps her in tip-top shape and she’s got a lot of power under her hood. That being said, the Escalade could be seen in the rearview, weaving through traffic to catch up to you.

The shrill ring of your phone makes you jump as you try to focus on the road and on what’s behind. You need to be a second set of eyes for Dean while he’s pushing Baby to create some distance from the Escalade.

“Hey, Sam!” You sigh with relief, reading his name on your display, putting him on speaker.

“This is Castiel,” the former Angel’s flat tone carries from the phone. “Sam is driving. He said I’m too slow.”

You grin big. That’s a classic Winchester brother thing to do. From the corner of your eye you see Dean smirk.

“Just tell them we’re headed west and haven’t been followed.” Sam sighed with mild frustration.

“Damn it’s good to hear your voice, Sammy!” Dean spoke loudly in that extra deep tone he uses when he is running on adrenalin. You know he left Cas out because he is still hurt, but you also know he’s glad Cas is safe too.

“We’re headed in the opposite direction,” you explain. “The vehicle followed us and we’re trying to shake them but they’re keeping up.”

“Pretty soon we’ll run out of traffic, and on the open road we’ll never lose them.” Dean frowns as he hunts in the rearview for your pursuers.

“Maybe you can head into the wilderness, hole up and set traps.” Sam offers. “We can turn around and try to catch up.”

“No!” Dean snaps. “You’re both safe. I want you to stay that way. Get someplace and lay low. We’ll get this done and I’ll call you, ok?”

“Dean…” Cas begins to speak but Dean is having none of it.

“I said No! Okay? For once, just do what I say. We’ve got this.”

You hang up the phone without waiting for a response. You can see how worked up Dean is, his brain running overtime as he tries to figure out a plan while he’s trying to evade Bartholomew’s lackies on a road full of other cars.

The satellite map on your phone shows a complex set of junctions several miles up ahead where this road meets and crosses with two interstates, branching off in multiple places to service a small city surrounded by a cluster of smaller towns. It looks promising and Dean agrees.

The junction of the roads has raised on and off ramps that weave in and around the support structures of the main interstate, with frontage roads servicing the branches at intervals. Traffic is heavy and Dean follows a newer model black Cady onto the interstate by one of the on-ramps, only to cut across the lanes harshly and slip onto a skewed off-ramp, hoping the Escalade will follow the newer Cady. Slowing down at the end of the off-ramp, he turns to take the frontage road in the opposite direction, heading slowly up the on-ramp for the interstate carriage way going back in the direction from which you had come, so as not to rejoin too soon and be spotted on the other side.

You check all around as soon as you crest the on-ramp back onto the road, praying you don’t see the black government-style vehicle. Dean doesn’t wait to find out, he puts his foot down and puts a few eighteen wheelers between you and whatever is behind you.

“I think we’re clear,” you say after about fifteen minutes of hypervigilance.

“Don’t jinx it, sweetheart.” Dean keeps his eyes on the road, the wheel clasped in two white-knuckled fists.

Switching from the interstate to a smaller road and then to another road but still taking you away from where Sam and Cas had headed, Dean starts to relax. He chances a look at you, to find you looking right back. The tension in his neck and jaw haven’t melted away yet but he doesn’t have that hard look of focused fury that he usually does when in fight or flight mode. He doesn’t say anything and neither do you, but the glances between you become more frequent as though you’re both checking on each other to make sure the other is okay, needing to visually check each time.

A sign by the side of the road identifies the beautiful landscape to your left as Black Water Natural Forest, and with the sun beginning to set behind the mountains in the distance, it seems a good place to wait out the sunset. You point to the sign and Deans nods. He doesn’t argue, knowing you need a place to park-up off road away from prying eyes to get your bearings and make a plan to meet up with your friends.

As the road gets narrower and the trees get more dense, Dean slows the car, casting furtive glances at you. It’s making your skin burn, the way he looks at you now, with that hunger in his eyes. You feel it too. Weeks of tension built between you, and todays threat to your lives now culminating in a deep need for some kind of release. You lick your lips, breathing shallow and quick as you try to regain your composure, but Dean isn’t doing much better. You look at him fully and he all but moans when he sees the look in your eye.

A turn off presents itself that leads to a small muddy lot where hikers can park their cars when they venture out into the forest. Dean brings Baby to a stop so hard your seatbelt catches you, then he yanks it into park and fumbles for the seal lever. You unclip your belt as the front seat slides back fully and he reaches for you, helping you straddle his lap.

You waste no time, kissing him fervently as you unbutton your shirt while he tries to push it from your shoulders before it’s open. Breaths are gasps released between kisses, tongues touching, tasting and tempting more passion, and you succumb to the frenzy of heat that’s born of your need to feel something other than fear. Your need to feel him.

You’re both a mess of fumbling hands and sloppy kisses as clothes are shucked and skin exposed. You try to stand, your legs either side of his as you unbutton your jeans and he unclasps his belt.

The loud sound of the Impala’s horn echoes out amongst the trees, startling birds so they take wing and both of you into stillness and silence.

Dean looks at you with panic but then grins and laughs, reaching to tug your jeans down your legs until they’re bunched up around your boots.

It’s awkward but you can still straddle him like this and, as you kneel back onto the black leather seat, he lifts his hips to grind himself impatiently against you. The desperation in your eyes is matched by the eagerness in his. He is rapt, eyes absorbing the sights and sounds of your body and of your pleasure as you grind yourself against him. Your slicked pussy drenching his cock as you slide yourself along his length but deny him entry just when his tip catches at your entrance.

Dean fondles your breasts, trailing open-mouthed kisses across your skin until he reaches your hardening peaks. His kisses become more suckling then, nibbling them and flicking them firmly with his tongue until you’re almost shaking above him.

“You ready for me?” You ask, breathless.

“Sweetheart,” he treats you to his classic sultry smirk, “I’ve been ready for you since you moved in.”

You grin, knowing he’s been jonesing for you for that long. Truth be told, you’d wanted him for longer but the hate you made yourself feel for him was an adequate distraction from it.

Biting your lip, you reach between you, taking his wet shaft in hand and positioning it at your entrance. Your eyes meet as you begin to skink down on him, inching down in a shallow rocking motion with Dean stroking your hips and waist as you work at it. He resists the urge to thrust up into you at first, allowing you to get accustomed to him.

When you bottom him out, he presses down on your hips firmly, lifting his just enough to give you a deep pleasurable pressure that has you groaning and your eyes rolling back.

You are tight despite being very wet, and the way you squeeze him has him twitching heavily against your walls.

“Fuck…” he groans as you begin to move, leaning back slightly so he hits all the right spots inside you.

“I’m not going to last long,” you laugh breathily.

“No problem,” Dean says, his hands gripping your hips hard, helping you ride him a little faster now. “We’ll get you for two.”

He doesn’t even have to reach down to stroke your clit, you come all by yourself, grinding on him with a sexy roll of your hips he knows should be good for you, your clit rubbing against his soft hair. He can feel you spasming and clenching around him and it feels like heaven, even better than warm cherry pie hitting his taste buds.

“You feel freaking amazing.” He growls, pulling you forward to suckle on the delicate skin of your neck.

“Right back at’cha,” you sigh against pleasure.

He rolls you to the side, and lays you on your back on the seat, still buried in you to the hilt. Looking down at your heated face, your skin glowing from your orgasm, Dean thinks you are the most beautiful thing he has ever seen, with a possible exception of Baby. Okay, you’re the most beautiful living thing he’s ever seen.

Looking up at Dean, his brow creased in concentration, his eyes dark with lust, you don’t think you have ever been turned on by anyone as much as this man. Damn, he’s hot! Riding the adrenaline of the chase, you had been desperate for an outlet. Now that is out of your mind, you lose yourself in the man between your thighs, you’re focused solely on the feeling of him buried deep, and the rising tide of pleasure. The windows steam up as you grind and roll your bodies together, and you think you might combust from the heat of him.

When he meets and holds your gaze, your heart almost stops. There you see more than just lust, more than just the passion between you. It’s deep and hidden, secret almost, and it surfaces as affection that softens his eyes. You reach up to stroke his face as his grinding hips keep their measured pace and he leans into your touch, kissing the palm of your hand, closing his eyes with a tender sigh.

His vulnerability in that moment lances electricity to your core and you spasm powerfully around him. His eyes flash open and he sees you’re close again but he doesn’t grin cockily like he might have done earlier, instead he leans down to kiss you, leaning his forehead on yours as you grip the back of his neck and look into his gorgeous eyes. With your other hand on his hip, sliding round to his ass you guide the speed and depth of his thrusts and you roll your hips to meet his.

As you guide him to slow down he thinks he’ll lose the pleasure he’s cultivated so far but he can now feel more of you and it’s more intense because it’s slow and prolonged. He almost laughs at how it changes everything and he gasps with surprise when he starts to feel his orgasm coming. He knows he needs to pull out but you hold him on place with your hands and your heels.

“Give me everything,” you moan as you feel him swell. “I need to feel you, nice and deep.”

Dean groans with pleasure watching your eyes sparkle with heat for him.

“I want it,” you almost beg. “Want you.”

He nods, biting his lip as bends to your desire.

Spurred on by your permission, Dean thrusts deeper until he bottoms out, moaning your name as he comes deep inside you. Your walls contract as he fills you, your climax a deep rolling pleasure that courses your whole body. Everything feels so right, he feels right. The way you two fit, the way he makes you feel. It’s like a low-key destiny you’re more than willing to succumb to.

Dean doesn’t just pull out and get off you once you’re both done, he flips you so your lay on his chest. There he holds you and strokes you back and hips, your hair and your face until you lift your head to look at him. Then he smirks cockily and you swat his chest.

“You don’t have to look so smug about it,” you chastise him.

“Hey, I keep my promises,” he says with that trademark smirk playing on his plush lips. “Would’a give you more but we’re kinda on the run here, sweetheart.”

“You can owe me, how ‘bout that?” You push yourself up and try to find your clothes.

He grins at the confirmation that this isn’t just a one-time deal. “Hell yeah! Sign me up.”

You clean up with wipes from your travel bag as Dean calls Sam. You watch the relieved interaction from the front fender of Baby while Dean paces in the dirt a few meters away. You apply some flavoured lip balm to your kiss bruised lips as he works out the logistics of meeting up and what to do about Bartholomew.

After the call, Dean beelines straight for you, sliding his hands around your waist and burying his face in your neck, kissing playfully.

“I take it we’ve got a few hours at least until we can meet Sam and Cas.” You thread your fingers through his messy hair, trailing your fingernails over his scalp which he seems to really like.

“Several.” He says against your delicate skin.

“Whatever are we gonna do to pass the time?” You smile as you picture the pair of you fucking all over his car.

“I can think of a few things,” he surfaces with a hungry look, leaning back in to kiss you.

Your soft lips claim his once more as you melt into his arms, the kiss heated and full of need. Dean kisses you with such force it steals your breath and makes your knees weak, and when he pulls back he looks at you thoughtfully. Licking his lips and tasting you on them, he grins.

“Cherry,” his eyes go to your lips again, “I like it.”

Dean’s talented tongue makes you forget any quip you might have said, as he lifts you onto Baby’s hood and keeps his promise.

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean x reader #dean x reader smut #dean winchester fic #supernatural smut #dean winchester fanfic #spn #supernatural dean smut #dean winchester x you #spn fanfic #frenemies to lovers #dean winchester #dean x you #dean winchester fanfiction #cloudy's writing

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samdeancrimespree · 2 months

Text

there’s something about wincest in the pre-slash era (whenever that is) where i think the dynamic is: one of them does not have sex with men. doesn’t think of them that way, because it feels too dangerous, too easy to slip into those fantasies he keeps locked away. and the other one fucks guys, but only ones who are eerily similar, carbon copies to his brother. the type of resemblance that would turn most siblings off. and the roles could go either way, for either of them. just… the dynamics of the different types of desperate “unrequited” feelings and the way they try to get away from them.

like. dean getting drunk and making out with some tall, long haired guy at a bar. nasty desperate hands down the back of the guys jeans, stifling a sigh that his ass isn’t quite round enough to be sam’s. he has blue eyes, not brown, but dean isn’t looking at his face anyway. fucking not-sam rough in the back of the impala, moaning baby and cutting off before brother, saying sam’s name when he cums, trying not to stare at the army figure in the ashtray. hating himself for it, swearing off it, but always crawling back, chasing the high like an addict. feeling deep in his soul that sam was right to leave, that he’s better off without his sick freak of a brother.

sam being into girls with short hair, accidentally hitting on lesbians because he struggles to be attracted to anything not wearing a crew cut, flannel and work boots. he’s sick, he knows, that’s part of why he had to leave. frosh week drunk, he lets a guy flirt with him, because he’s just tall enough, just different enough, that sam can give himself plausible deniability. his lips are too thin, he’s too gentle, he smells like axe and fake leather, but sam needs something, and this is all he can get. it’s going fine, until the guy— too late now to ask his name— goes for sam’s belt and sam feels like he’s going to puke. the wrongness of it comes over him all at once, like a fever or a hex. clarity pierces his drunken state: not dean’s hands, not dean’s voice, not dean, wrong. at least it gives him an excuse to back out, a good reason to lock himself in the bathroom and sit on the floor, trying to determine if the dry heaving is cheap beer or grief.

girls are— safe. long hair, soft hands, sweet and gentle and nowhere close to 6’1. this way, there’s nothing reminding sam of the absence, nothing pushing against the barrier he’s made around what he really wants. he can be normal.

he knows it’s dean after the first strike, knows his footsteps and his breath and the outline of his shoulders, even now, even in the dark. but sam doesn’t stop fighting, because he’ll have to stop touching dean, and sam can allow himself this one thing, after so long. dean’s leather jacket on sam’s bare arms is making him dizzy, and sam lets dean take him down, the beginning and end of sam’s understanding of desire. a reminder, familiar like dean’s rough palms on his wrists, his weight pinning sam, his shit-eating grin and drawled easy, tiger; sam has never been normal.

#ok my last rb just reminded me of this #ive been thinking about it a lot #in my stanford pining era #it could go the other way too…. Sam searching for replacements #and dean being like ahaha i don’t like Guys wtf 🧍‍♀️#also. if the one doin the fucking won’t kiss the guys #hhghhhh #wincest #hc #pre series #mars.txt #my writing

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jasmines-library · 2 months

Note

Could you please do a Winchester sister story where there’s a hex bag hidden in the hotel room her and the brothers are in and the boys have to find it before she dies

Hexed

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

Word count: 1k

Warnings: Sickness

⛧ SPN MASTERLIST ⛧

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

You knew it would have been famous last words when you said that things were going smoothly. As usual you had packed your small bag and tossed it in the back of Baby before climbing in the backseat. Normal. Routine.

It was a warm day and you had even rolled the window down slightly to let the cool breeze in. Dean was blasting some classic rock and the three of you sung along. The hunt was a few states over from the bunker and the drive was long, so you were glad for the nice day, even if you couldn’t be outside enjoying it: it lightened the mood.

And the motel was just like any other. Two beds and a couch that the three of you would fight over later. The walls were bare besides a few questionable photos they had hung squiffy, and the light didn’t quite work properly. Nevertheless it was a nice room; perfectly suitable for a week or so. Less, you hoped.

You were hunting a particularly troublesome witch: you were just hoping that you would get it over and done with a soon as you could. Witches were a pain in the ass. The three of you had arrived early afternoon so spent the rest of the day scouting out the town and getting to know the local waitresses in Deans case. By the second day, the three of you were certain you had figured out who was causing all of the trouble: a blonde haired man that appeared to be in his twenties. You were moving quickly.

It wasn’t until the third day however that things started to go to shit. When you woke up, groggily stretching out on the couch, your entire body ached. Your head throbbed and your throat felt like it had been torn apart by a thousand razor blades. You groaned.

“You okay?” Sam frowned, looking up from his laptop where he was scanning police footage.

“Mmh” you nodded, pushing yourself up. When you stood, your vision blurred together and you swayed on your feet.

“Woah.” Sam stood up quickly. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah, just feeling a little rough.” Your voice was like sandpaper as he guided you to sit down at the kitchen table. He frowned, wrinkling his nose. “I probably picked it up from someone at the bar.” You recall sitting awkwardly at the table with Sam while Dean tried his luck flirting with the waitresses.

“Probably.” Sam pressed his hand against your forehead. “You are warm though.”

You hummed in response.

“What’s going on?” Dean grumbled as he rolled over in the bed, pulling the covers over his face.

“Y/N’s sick.”

“Am not.” You pouted. “I’m just feeling a bit rough. It’ll pass in a few hours.”

It did not, in fact, pass in a few hours. I fact it got much much worse in a matter of a few hours. Your skin grew clammy and paler, your joints ached and your movements were slow. Yet you were still determined to help with the hunt. Sam and Dean had finally had enough when you, leaving heavily against the impala to stay upright, you dropped a second pistol on the floor whilst trying to reload them with ‘witch-killing-bullets’.

“Alright, that’s it.” Dean said taking the weapon from your hands. You whined in protest. “I’m taking you home.”

“No.” You protested. “I can help. I want to help.”

“No.” Dean told you firmly. “You’re sick, y/n. Very sick. Just look at yourself you can barely stand.”

“You need to rest.”

“I can-“ you were cut off by a coughing fit and a stabbing pain in your gut. When you pulled your hand away, a splatter of crimson plastered itself against your skin. You glanced up warily at your brothers.

Their eyes widened in surprise and Sam had to grip your arms to keep you upright when your knees buckled beneath you.

“S’mmy…” you slurred. “What’s hap’ning to me?”

“The witch.” Dean said suddenly. “She’s been hexed. Get her in the car.”

Your body careened forward, slumping into Sam and he struggled to get your stubborn limbs into the car. Your breathing was fast as you wheezed, clinging on to your brother.

Dean slammed the door shut and pressed his foot down hard on the gas to send the car speeding down the road. He cast glances at you through the overhead mirror. Your eyes were slipping shut as your head hung limply against Sam: he held you close trying to get you to stay awake: alarmed at your rising temperature.

“Hang in there, kiddo.” Sam pleaded.

You made a noise of acknowledgment, whining against the hurt of your body. When you coughed again, more blood stained your teeth. And then you were fading in and out.

“Dean……up!”

“Trying….”

More hurt. More nothing.

“Get her….car.”

Hands on your body, sliding under your back and knees. Someone was lifting you. There was a loud clanging and a pained wheeze that squeezed itself from your lungs.

“Shhhh.” Hands smoothing the hair on your head. Sam? You couldn’t see; your vision had blurred together.

Sam and Dean were frantic. They moved without much coordination as they shuffled you into your room. Sam held you in his arms as Dean tore apart the room, searching under the mattress, tearing the pictures off the walls and up turning the chairs. He had been moving quickly since you stopped responding.

“Sammy, help me look!” Dean barked.

Sam hesitantly lay you down on the bed that Dean had finished tearing apart and began to search. Inside the couch, inside the lampshades, under the couch until Dean plucked out the Hex bag out from your bag with an exclaim of relief. The witch must have slipped it in there whilst you were at the bar. Dean disposed of it quickly and immediately rushed over to your side too late. You had already lost consciousness but your chest was still rising and falling. He let out a breath.

It took a long time for your temperature to come down. Sam and Dean had taken off your extra jacket and even placed an ice pack on you to help. At least one of them had an eye on you at all time. Eventually, it had dropped to a regular temperature and slowly but surely you opened your eyes.

“Oh thank God.” Sam sighed “we were so worried.”

“Sorry….” You mumbled.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Dean pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We’re just glad you’re okay.”

You leaned into him. Safe.

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

TAGS:

@defonotashleyr @aestheticdaisies @xxrougefangxx @hearts4robs @harleycao @hell-o-kittys @inlovewhithafairytale

⛤⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽⛧☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅⛤

#supernatural x reader #spn x reader #spn #supernatural #supernatural x sister reader #supernatural x injured reader #supernatural x hurt reader #Dean Winchester #Dean Winchester x Reader #dean winchester x injured reader #dean winchester x sister reader #Sam Winchester #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x injured reader #sam winchester x sister reader

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lovelywritinglady · 6 months

Text

Secrets Suck, Man

Sam Winchester x fem!reader

With Dean being heavily against the idea of dating while on the job, Sam and you figure out secret ways to be together without Dean knowing. Except, here’s the thing, he already knows.

Angst, fluff, cute stuff with Sam. Takes place during Season 12.

Third Person Pov

"Sam, how many times do I need to tell ya that it's a bad idea. Hunters don't get a normal life and if they did, they ain't hunters no more." Dean lectured Sam who sat in the passenger seat of their 1967 Chevrolet Impala.

"Dean, all I'm saying is maybe it's not a bad idea to be with a hunter. At least you both understand the life and the risks." Sam pleated with Dean trying to get him to see his point of view on the situation.

"Dude, you really want to watch the person you love die because you were busy saving someone else?" Dean asks seriously.

"No, I wouldn't want that even if I wasn't a hunter, Dean. But at some point, I think it's okay as long as both parties understand the risk." Sam spoke with coming off harsher than before.

"Drop it, you know my thoughts on it Sam. It's not a good idea." Dean jabbed back as he turned up the radio to some 80's rock song.

"Fine." Sam sighed in defeat knowing that his plan to try to tell Dean that he already had a girlfriend and that person happened to be you.

Two hours later...

Sam and Dean made their way into the bunker where you were. Sam saw you and gave you a quick, but loving smile. While you waited on them to return, you read the same lore books hoping to find something new in them only to be disappointed again. You smiled back at him making sure that Dean didn't notice you looking at Sam. Speaking of Dean he said a quick hello and sat down on the chair in front of you kicking his muddy boots up on the table.

"Hey, I'm glad your back and everything Dean, but take your shoes off the table please." You asked him rolling your eyes.

"Whatever, did you find anything in the lore about Nephilim" He questioned doing what you asked.

"Same as before, I still only know what I've read for the millionth time and Cas's knowledge." you sighed rubbing your hand around your sore neck. This caught Sam's attention and he made a mental note to himself to help you out later.

"Don't worry we'll figure it out, we've just got to keep looking." Sam reassured putting his hand on your shoulder and giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Yeah, don't worry about it Y/n, we've delt with worse and won." Dean butted in.

"Yeah, I think the apocalypse and the darkness are a lot worse than this by far. I'd still rather deal with a nest of vamps than this though." You half joked.

"You and me both." Dean sighed getting up out of his seat and walking towards the hallway. "I'm gonna take a much-needed shower see you guys at dinner." Dean spoke walking away to the showers.

As soon as he was gone you rushed towards Sam and gave him a hug. Breathing him in and feeling his body against yours invited instant comfort and happiness to your stressed-out body and mind. And to Sam, he found the same comfort as his arms immediately wrapped around you as he placed his left check on the top of your head. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes allowing himself to be in the moment with you and forget all of the shit that is piled on them once again. He loved you and even having a little time alone was worth the world to him. After some time of just being there with him, your curiosity became too much and the elephant in the room needed to be addressed.

"Baby, what did Dean say?" You asked him raising your head while still holding Sam in your arms. He looked at you with a sad but loving gaze as you waited on his response.

"Same thing as before, he's against it." Sam sighed sadly. "But I don't care he can just deal with it. Secrets suck and I'm tired of keeping our feelings for one another away from Dean. I mean even Cass knows." Sam spoke trying to convince you.

"Yeah, I get that, I just really don't want an angry Dean top of the shit pile that we already have. I really want to tell him, don't get me wrong, I'm just scared to see how he'll react. Hell, I'd rather face Amara again than tell Dean, but I think it's important that we do." You pleaded with him trying to get him to see your point of view.

"Baby, if Dean gets mad that's on him. We are both adults and I think it'll be okay. I know your nervous, but trust me Dean at his core is a really big softie." He reassured rubbing your arms up and down.

"I still feel weird about it, but I think I'm just scared of his reaction, mostly." You whispered putting your forehead on the center of his chest.

"We don't need to tell him right now, we can wait as long as you need." Sam

“Thank you Sammy, that means a lot.” You say smiling at his sweetness.

Just as you two were about to break your hugs out comes Dean wearing his grey robe with an annoyed expression on his face. You were nervous and could tell that had whenever was wrong was serious.

“Dammit, If you two are gonna be together be fucking careful because this life ain’t pretty for us. I’ll support it if you guys do that. I guess some of us should have something good in this shit show.” Dean quickly said before a leaking away. As he did he did a double take. “And you two need to get better at whispering because I could hear everything.” He said annoyed as he walked away.

You both stood there dumbfounded at what just happened. You looked at each other and laughed at the situation. Sam then leaned down and captured your lips into a soft and sweet kiss. He broke the kiss giving you another big smile as he chuckled.

“Well I guess the secrets out.” Sam joked

“Yeah, and by what he said I guess he’s known for awhile now.” You say letting out a deep breath hugging Sam closer relieved that you don’t need to hide out of fear.

“Yeah, I’m just glad that with all of the shit that’s been happening that I still have you by my side. And no matter what I’ll be there for you.” He reassured

“Aww Sammy me too, I love you. And Dean’s right we should be careful about all of this.” You told Sammy nearly sounding like Dean.

“You’re right about that. And Deans right about another thing too. That it’s good that we’ve found happiness in this shit show.” Sam smiled.

“Yeah, we really did. I love you Sammy Winchester.” You proclaimed

“I love you too Y/n L/n.” Sam responded hugging you tighter.

Thank you so much for reading 💜

Please feel free to comment, request, and reblog

Click here to see what I’ll write for and HERE for my master list.

•I do NOT own any characters except y/n•

-L.W.L

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 months

Text

Night Moves Timestamp: Moving Day

Request: Hmmmm what about Night Moves? Or how soon before she asked Dean to move in with her?

Night Moves Masterlist

Pairing: AU!Dean x reader

Word Count: 600ish

Warnings: language

__________

“What are you doing?” asked Benny with a laugh, leaning against the back of his truck as you grunted. “I thought we told you to let us boys handle the heavy stuff.”

“I can help,” you said, reaching forward for the box again until Benny threw an arm around your waist and picked you up. “Benjamin!”

“Oh, somebody’s in trouble,” teased Jess, laughing as Benny carried you through the front door and out through the sliding door to the deck. “Not sure which one of you though.”

“Him!” you said with a growl.

“Deano will kill me if his girl gets hurt trying to lift that heavy old box,” said Benny.

“Oh my...why doesn’t Dean have scrawny friends!” you said, squirming a little as Benny carried you into the backyard, plopping you down at the shed where Dean was putting a few things away.

“Delivery service for Mr. Winchester,” said Benny, Dean poking his head out with a smile. “Watch this one.”

“I thought you were taking a break,” said Dean, crossing his arms.

“We’re almost done,” you said, swinging your arms around, spinning back around. You started to walk back around the house, Dean humming behind you. You glanced over your shoulder, Dean wearing a smirk. You made a dash for it and got to the front yard before he was picking you up, laughing as he spun you around a few times. He carried you around around the cars to see Benny and Sam carrying the box you tried to get.

“Oh, you tried to get that one? That’s got like a crap ton of books in it, sweetheart,” he said. “Put it in the office guys!”

“We better be getting pizza and beer after this one!” called back Sam.

“You moved like four boxes,” said Dean with scoff.

“We moved your entire apartment!” said Sam.

“Pfft,” said Dean, waving him off. Jess poked her head outside, laughing at you again.

“Oh, now I definitely know you were the trouble maker,” she said. Dean set you down, giving you a smirk as you grabbed her hand and pulled her inside in your house. “So...how long before I get to be maid of honor?”

“We moved in together. We’re not engaged...yet,” you said.

“Uh huh,” she said. “I give him two more weeks.”

“He moved in because his lease is up and Benny’s place is too small,” you said, cocking your head at her.

“No, he moved in because he’s in love with you. A months tops before he proposes,” she said.

“Would you go figure out how much pizza and stuff I need to order, please?” you asked. She hummed as you headed outside again, Dean sitting on the trunk of Baby, staring out at the street. “Dean? You alright?”

“Is this too fast?” he asked, patting the space beside him for you. You climbed up, Dean taking your hand in his. “We’ve only been dating a few months and the guys today have made so many jokes and I know they’re just jokes but-”

“Do you love me?” you asked. Dean nodded. “Well I love you too. I don’t see anything wrong with two people that love each other wanting to live together.”

“But even the I love you’s came so fast and that’s not normal and-”

“And we met on a hookup with some backseat sex. Our relationship has never been normal and I don’t think we should judge ourselves based on what other people think,” you said. “If we’re good, we’re good.”

“I am looking forward to living with you,” he said, squeezing your hand.

“Me too,” you said.

________

#dean #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfiction #dean fanfiction #dean winchester fanfiction #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean x cas #winchester #dean fluff #dean supernatural #dean spn #dean winchester x

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winchesterdreamgirl88 · 7 months

Text

Done

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Platonic Sam Winchester x Reader

Summary: You've had a crush on Dean for awhile now and you're so hurt and tired of watching him flirt with every girl and you finally tell him how you feel.

A/n: For like a week I've kept thinking about this scenario in my head and I wanted to share it with everybody. This is my first attempt at writing a full story so I hope you guys enjoy it and I'm sorry if it's bad:)

Word Count:1.7k- way longer than I thought it was going to be

Warnings: Language, slight angst, little but of fluff at the end, implied smut. Let me know if I missed any!!

You had been hunting with the Winchesters for about 3 years now and it had been some of the most terrifying yet fun years you've had in awhile. You met the boys when they were hunting a Djinn who had trapped you in a dream where you could live out your life with your parents who had passed away when you were 8.

You guys were heading back to the motel after a grueling vampire hunt that you guys had been working on for about a week. When you guys got to the motel there was only 2 rooms available which meant you had to share with one of the brothers.

"I call my own room." Sam had said quicker than you could comprehend then tossed you and Dean the key to your guys room and then departed to his room to take a shower. You would have preferred to share a room with Sam because he was your best friend and he was fun to be around. You didn't mind sharing a room with Dean but you've been in love with him for so long it's getting harder and harder to control your feelings.

You knew he would never think of you like that because everywhere you go Dean always finds some random girl in a bar or some girl on a case to flirt with and he has no shame about it whatsoever. It's so hard to sit back and just watch as the man you love flirt with everyone in sight, not to mention he's not quiet when he decides to bring a girl home, not even blink an eye towards you. You knew why he wouldn't wanna be with you, you weren't as pretty or skinny or interesting as all the other girls. You were just somebody who followed them around and was like a sister to them.

"Looks like there's only one bed so it looks like we'll be sharing, unless I get lucky then I'm sure you can stay with Sam." Dean had said with his signature smirk that you loved but right now was just pissing you off. You didn't know why that comment had set you off tonight but you were done with all his bullshit.

"Whatever Dean, I don't really care anymore. I'll just go sleep outside so you can do whatever you want with whoever you want." You said with your back against the wall. You were honestly just so tired from the hunt you didn't really care anymore.

"What the hell is up with you Y/n? You've been so angry and snappy towards me lately and I haven't done shit to you!" Dean said taken aback by your rudeness towards him. He'd noticed you'd been off the past few weeks with him but he couldn't figure out why.

"Just forget it. It's not even worth it. Just go find some random girl who's willing to throw herself at you and have a good night and leave me the hell out of it!" You said and then stomped away to head into the bathroom to take a cold shower to try and calm yourself down.

The motel you guys were staying at was only 5 minutes away from the Roadhouse and once you got in the shower you heard the hum of baby drive away knowing him and Sam were heading to the bar. You knew Jo was gonna be there and you knew how flirty she was with Dean every time you guys came around and the thought killed you of what was gonna happen tonight.

After you got out of the shower you decided to stop feeling sorry for yourself and got dressed in a cute black lace tank top with some dark blue skinny jeans and black high heeled boots, did your hair and makeup and walked 5 minutes down the road to the bar. When you got there you immediately see Dean sitting down at the bar with Jo standing way too close to him and laughing at something he was saying. You headed over to join Sam at a table he was sitting at doing research about your guys next case. You sat down next to him and let out a long sigh while continuing to stare at Dean and Jo.

"You know he's a blind idiot Y/N, he doesn't know what he's doing to you and he's not gonna know until you say something to him." Sam says as he can't help but feel bad knowing how much you care about Dean and him not feeling the same way.

"No Sam you don't get it! He's so blind and selfish and it's just so frustrating and I can't take it anymore." You finish your rant not realizing that you had started yelling and now everyone was staring at you including Dean and Jo. You immediately stood up and ran out of the bar and started walking back towards the motel. When you got there you slammed the door and began to start crying.

About 5 minutes later you hear baby pull into the parking lot and try to compose yourself before Dean comes in because you know he's gonna want to talk about what had happened. Dean unlocks the door and sees you sitting on the bed looking sad.

"Okay seriously Y/N you've been mad at me for weeks, you can't be in the same room as me for more than 5 minutes without wanting to rip my head off and now suddenly your causing scenes in bars for no reason, what the hell is going on with you? If I did something wrong I'm truly sorry but you need to tell me what it is so I know how to fix it." Dean says now kneeling in front of you trying to read your face.

You immediately stand up to get space away from you and him before deciding what to tell him. "You know what fine. I'm so tired and so done competing."

"Competing with what sweetheart?" Dean said causing your stomach to erupt with butterflies at the name

"I'm done trying to compete for your attention. I'm done trying to make you see me. I'm done I can't do it anymore it's to exhausting. I know I'll never be someone you think is attractive, I'm not as pretty as any of the girls you flirt with or as smart as other girls. I'm just ordinary and I can understand why you wouldn't wanna be with someone like me and so I'm just done." By time time you had finished with your rant your cheeks were stained with tears and you were sitting against the wall avoiding eye contact.

It took Dean a minute to make sense of everything that you had just said. It broke his heart seeing you like this because he really did in fact care for you and the fact that he was the one hurting you tore him up inside. He took a deep breathe before kneeling down in front of you and he put his finger under your chin forcing you to look up at him.

"Are you crazy? Of course I love you, you're amazing, smart, beautiful, strong, sexy, you care about me, you make me feel like a human and not some monster. You're so loving and you see the good in me even when I can't. You are everything to me Y/n and I'm so sorry that you were feeling this way. All those other girls are just things I use to get my mind off of you and to make myself forget how bad I am for you." This causes something to shift in the room because now you are suddenly concerned about how Dean is feeling.

"What do you mean? How are you bad for me?" "Let's face it Y/n, I'm a monster, I push everyone away, I don't know how to talk about my feelings, I'm so angry all the time, I don't know how to love someone properly. Which is why I couldn't let myself fall for you any more because I knew I would just end up hurting you." Now suddenly he's the one refusing to make eye contact with you as he stands up and faces away from you.

You get up off the floor and walk up behind him and put a hand on his shoulder "Dean, I can't imagine being with anyone else. You're not a monster you are a loving caring person who would put their life before anyone else. I know you may not see it but you are one of the greatest people I know and I would be lucky if you would be with me. Relationships have hard times that's part of being in a relationship but we can get through it together and figure it out as time happens."

"I love you Y/n I want to try being the best and most caring boyfriend I can be for you." He says finally looking into your eyes for the first time since entering the motel room.

"I love you too Dean." You look up at him and smile

He looks down at you and slowly moves his head towards yours he then rests his forehead on yours and slowly connects your lips together. The kiss started out really small and timid because this was uncharted territory for the both of you. As the kiss started to heat up he licked at your bottom lip asking for permission and you quickly let him in. He brought his up and rested them on your hips and started walking you backwards to the bed. He slowly laid you down on the bed and broke the kiss to admire your face. He looks down and smiles at you. He's so glad he can finally be able to call you his and let everyone know that you are his.

He reconnects your lips and slowly starts to drag his fingers down your chest and down to your thighs.

"Let me show you how much I love you." You quickly nod your head yes and smile into the kiss as he slowly pulls your shirt over your head. You know this is gonna be one of the best nights of your life.

#dean winchester #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #supernatural #supernatural imagine #sam winchester fluff #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester smut #dean winchester x you #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester smut

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bunnysbrainrot · 9 months

Text

No Vacancy - Day One

Relationship: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Content: fluff, nothing spicier yet

Summary: Separated from Dean and Castiel, you and Sam are on your own. Now paired up, you spend a few days in a motel. The only problem? The last room available only has one bed.

A/N: shout-out to all the Sam lovers, this one’s for y’all (me included tbh) **forehead kiss**

————

“Well,” Sam said, his hands gripping the steering wheel, “I think this is literally the only motel in town.”

And he was right. The two of you had scoured the area for over an hour, driving block after block for any other place to stay. This lone motel was far from where you needed to be for the case, but beggars can’t be choosers.

“That’s what you get in a small town, I guess,” you reply, grabbing your backpack from the floor of the car. Of course, Dean couldn’t fathom letting the two of you borrow Baby, so you had to get another ride. Thankfully, Sam had his own car in the garage of the bunker, a newer one with polished leather seats yet less flashy than the Impala.

Sam parked the car and cut off the engine, letting out a sigh.

You looked at him, tilting your head in concern, “At least we can rest, now. We can shower up and turn in for the night.”

Sam nodded in relieved agreement - the past few days had worn you both thin, exhausted and in need of proper sleep. The two of you stepped out of the car, grabbed your duffles from the back seat, and walked to the lobby of the motel to rent your room.

The clerk at the desk was not a talker, the silence in the room feeling uncomfortably thick. Sam nodded to the man with a terse smile and guided you back outside.

“That guy definitely wants to go home,” joked Sam. At last, you reached room 115, your final spot for the day. You stretched your aching neck as Sam unlocked the door and stepped inside.

“Crap.”

“What is it?”

“I think we were given the wrong room,” Sam continued, stepping out of the room to let you peer inside. A single king sized bed sat against the wall, with no other place to sleep. You turned to Sam, who had already made his way back to the main office. You waited for him for a few moments, seeing him return with a remorseful look.

“What’s up?”

“That’s the only room left,” Sam explained, “you wanna stay here anyway? They didn’t have a cot, but we can figure something out.” He scratched the back of his neck nervously.

You waved dismissively, giving Sam an embarrassed smile, “Don’t worry, we’re both adults here. Sharing a room doesn’t bother me.”

Sam looked at you for a moment, contemplating the next step. He shrugged and opened the door to 115 again, leading you inside.

The room was small and sparsely furnished - just the bed, an armchair, and the TV sat on a minuscule set of drawers. You placed your bag down next to the lonesome armchair, and sat down to remove your shoes.

In front of you, Sam paced at the foot of the bed.

“They, uh… didn’t have a cot, so I’m not sure how you’d want to go about this.”

You kicked your boots to the side and glanced up at him.

“Scared of sharing a bed, Sam?”

If you were being honest, you were petrified of the idea. Ever since joining this self-proclaimed ‘Team Free Will’, Sam had been the one you’d gotten closest to. Before they took you in, you had been more reserved and quiet. A more nerdy type of person; Sam was the perfect guy to buddy up with. You both had a passion for research, to Dean’s dismay.

“So we finally have a chick on the team, and we get another nerd?” He had teased.

Despite Dean giving you shit for it, you had never felt more welcome into a group. There was a sense of purpose, a motivation to save people from monsters. With your help, the world would be a safer place for those unaware of what lurks in the shadows.

Bringing you back to reality, Sam cleared his throat.

“I’m not, I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

You retorted, “And why would I be uncomfortable with you?”

He quipped, “I mean, how often have we been forced to share a bed?”

He had a point, and your brave façade of nonchalance wouldn’t last much longer. Sure, if you both kept to a side of the bed, fully clothed, it would leave the fewest issues. But the butterflies in your stomach told you that this may not be something you could handle easily.

Your mind raced back to a memory of a case three months back, out in Tennessee. It was another shapeshifter, and it was hard for Sam and Dean to gather intel about much of anything. It was Dean’s foolish idea to send you and Sam to question the local townsfolk, masked as a tourist couple to keep your anonymity to a maximum. That time spent with Sam opened your eyes to what you had been missing for a shamefully long time. Love, or at least what felt like it.

Although it had been an act, the sweet gestures Sam had to uphold for the charade won your heart. He opened each door for you, kissed your cheeks, held your hand, the whole nine. Everything he had done drove you wild. Except, the one thing he never did was press his lips to yours. It seemed like a sick game of Dean’s pairing you up like that. You made sure to give him shit for it, telling him how embarrassing it was to have two friends act like a couple. What Dean didn’t know was the secret gratefulness you had for his plan.

At one point Dean did suggest you liked Sam, to which you denied, fumbling over your words like an idiot. He had shrugged it off, but now you wondered if that interaction inspired him to cut you off from him and Castiel. You silently cursed that damn Winchester for it.

“Never, but it’s just for a couple nights, right? We’ll share ghost stories and braid each other’s hair. It’ll be fun,” you joked, having walked over to Sam and patting his arm.

You went to the bed and furiously fluffed each pillow - the ones in motels were notoriously limp. Next you shook out the blanket. You hated the way it stayed cold when it’d been pulled taught to the mattress all day. Of all fun facts about you, Sam found that the most endearing. He hadn’t told you before, but he’d always been keen on your quirks. Simply put, he loved that he wasn’t the ‘weird one’ anymore.

Getting comfortable on the bed, Sam flopped down, still fully dressed in those tough denim jeans and signature red flannel. Your eyes grazed over him as he closed his eyes from exhaustion. Your pajamas were in your duffel, so you fumbled for them before heading to the bathroom to change. The sound of the TV muffled against the door - it seemed to be one of those dramatic crime shows you and the brothers scoffed at.

Pajamas was a loose term for the oversized t-shirt and mid-thigh sleepshorts you wore to bed. If you were alone maybe you’d have worn far less. Sam had removed his shoes, at the very least. You dimmed the lamp in the corner of the room and settled onto the bed. Then that was it, the exhaustion of today had finally gotten to you. It took everything in you to not let your mind drift off to sleep.

“We gotta go into town tomorrow?” You asked Sam.

“Yeah,” his voice honeyed with a groggy softness, “we should talk to the families of the victims. Figure out if these really were ‘accidents’.”

“FBI? Police? Ooh, maybe church officials?”

Sam let out a breathy laugh at your joke, the husk of his voice reverberating through you. God, it could be absolute torture to be around him at times. When the stress of hunting melted away, and you two could be your real selves.

“Just FBI, Cas is on standby as our ‘supervisor’.”

You looked to him fully, “Cas is our supervisor? And Dean actually trusts he can do that? Cas doesn’t know the first thing about the FBI.”

“Eh, Dean thought it could be good for the ‘people skills’,” Sam replied, finally opening his eyes at turning his head to you. Suddenly the two feet between you felt like mere inches. Your breath caught in your throat; you couldn’t reply even if you tried, so you opted for a small smile. Sam countered it with one of his own - the flashy grin that melted your heart more each time.

“We’re gonna have to get up so early. I’m not too excited for that.”

Sam’s face softened, his voice lowering, “We should get some sleep, then. You good with that side of the bed?”

You nodded, rising out of bed to switch the lamp off. The light from the TV drew Sam’s sights to you, loosely shrouded by your shirt and shorts. His eyes raked over your bare legs, wandering up your thighs until your shorts stalled his imagination. Sam followed suit and stood, but walked to the bathroom with a handful of clothes plucked from his bag.

A moment later he returned to see you under the covers, hunched over from the cold. Whatever those shitty detectives said on the TV drowned out as you noticed Sam. Just then you realized you had never seen him wear anything but a suit or his regular garb. Even in boxer shorts and a black t-shirt, he managed to catch your eye.

He caught your eye contact and smiled once more, that familiar ache in your chest growing stronger. You reached over and lifted the covers for him, letting him settle on his side of the bed.

“Do you sleep with the TV on?” You asked softly.

“No, do you?”

You gave him a small laugh, closing your eyes, “Nope. Keeps me up too late.”

Sam smiled. A part of him was relieved that he could get some proper rest with you here. Dean had the habit of leaving the TV on, depriving him of countless hours of sleep.

Even though they were rare, Sam appreciated these moments alone with you. It was easy to be with you. It was easy to laugh, to open up, to ramble on about whatever lore he had obsessed over. He loved the way your eyebrows tugged together when you didn’t understand something, and the way you tried piecing words together before asking your questions.

The A.C. unit cranked on beside the bed, pumping freezing cold air on your back. You shivered, curling into yourself to keep the warmth in.

Sam’s eyebrows raised slightly, “Hey, are you cold? I can turn the A.C. off.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll warm up in a minute,” you insisted. Sam sighed, knowing you wouldn’t say yes, and turned the unit off.

He quickly settled back into bed, letting out a shuddering exhale. You waited until he shifted under the covers to speak.

“You cold, too?”

“Maybe just a little bit.”

In the faint light of the TV you could make out his smile. A part of your mind drifted off to a place where that smile met you every day, lounging around in bed. Sam’s hands would run across your skin and tangle into your hair, pulling your mouth to his before making you breakfast.

The room dimmed as the television went silent. You and Sam shifted under the covers for a moment before getting fully comfortable, the silence of the room felt like a bated breath.

Sam broke it first, “These blankets don’t really do their job, do they?”

You replied to him, “Not a damn bit. It’s freezing in here.”

“You can, uh… move closer if you need to,” his voice wavered. The silhouette of his form moved to face you, dimly lit by the light from street lamps in the parking lot. You could make out his sharp cheekbones and the chestnut brown hair draped around his neck.

When another shiver won your body over you took the offer, moving closer to Sam until your arms touched. Now inches from one another like you’d wished, your mind went blank.

It took everything you had to remind yourself what this was, well, wasn’t. This wouldn’t be the lust-driven breakthrough you had hoped for. Nor would it be the time for Sam Winchester to take you the way you ached for. An awkward, strictly business sleeping situation.

You let your mind wander off, the waves of exhaustion turning into the gentle lull of sleep. You could’ve sworn you felt Sam’s arm wrap around your waist, keeping you warm.

————

By the time you woke up, Sam was still fast asleep. You had never seen him like this up close, with his eyes fluttered shut and breathing slowed. The image painted itself into your memory.

You were right, though, Sam had laid his arm over you. And now both had enveloped you close to his chest, rising and falling steadily against your ear. It took twenty more minutes for Sam to wake up.

He stirred until he noticed you flush against him, and he stilled completely. You wiggled in his grip to look up at him.

With a groggy smile you greeted him, “G’morning.”

“Hey,” he said, voice still thick with sleep, “sleep okay?”

You gave him a simple nod, regaining your composure. You scooted yourself away to give him the space that should’ve been there all night. Even though a part of you crumbled as you did, you padded out of bed to the bathroom.

“At least we know to turn off the A.C. tonight. Maybe a room with two beds will open up while we’re out, and we can switch.”

Sam opened his mouth to speak before you closed the bathroom door. What he was going to say escaped him.

He just hoped no other rooms opened up before the evening.

Thank you for your support, everyone! Day two will be here soon

- Bunny

#supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #spnfandom #fanfiction #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #writing #fic writing

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marvelfanfn2187a113 · 9 months

Text

Cuddle Day

Sam and Dean Winchester x little sister!reader

Requested by Anonymous

Synopsis: You’re sick, and you only want one thing—some tlc from your two big brothers

Sam stiffened in surprise when you dropped down next to him on the couch and leaned heavily against his arm.

“Do you want something?” He asked.

“Nope, I’m good,” you yawned, and Sam didn’t miss your scratchy voice and pale face.

“Are you sick?”

“I don’t know,” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you got comfortable against Sam’s shoulder. “My head hurts and my stomach feels weird.”

“Ok, yeah,” Sam said, and you whined when he stood, dislodging you from your position. “I don’t want to get sick, so how about we try personal space.”

“I don’t want personal space,” you huffed.

Dean chuckled from his spot on the overstuffed armchair. “Come sit with me, baby.”

“Ok!” You hopped up, coming over to Dean’s chair before climbing into his lap. Dean grunted as you made yourself comfortable, leaning your head against his shoulder.

“Look, just don’t cough on me and we’ll be good, ok?”

“Deal,” you closed your eyes, smiling contentedly when Dean wrapped an arm around you.

“Hey, I think I might have a job,” you hadn’t realized that you dozed off until Sam’s voice woke you up.

“Alright,” Dean said.

“Hey!” You protested as Dean started to move under you. “You can’t leave me when I’m sick, it’s mean.”

Dean thought you were kidding until you grabbed onto his shirt and wouldn’t let go.

“Kid, I need to-“

“Eh, actually it’s ok,” Sam insisted. “The job looks pretty straightforward. She’s looking pretty sick, you take care of her, I got the case.” Dean was about to protest, but Sam just turned and walked away.

“How you feeling?” Dean asked after Sam was gone.

“My stomach hurts,” you sighed. “Thanks for staying.”

“You kidding? Hey, down time is ok by me.”

You spent the afternoon fading in an out of sleep on Dean while he watched various television shows on his laptop. You couldn’t help but smile sleepily every time he laughed at his show, and his chest rumbled under you. With how crappy you were feeling, spending the afternoon curled up with your big brother was about the best place to be.

“Baby,” you stirred when Dean shook your arm. “Honey it’s getting late, I think you should try to eat something before bed.”

“Don’t go,” you pleaded, holding onto his arm.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Dean chuckled. “Sammy can get you some food, alright?”

After you finished as much of Sam’s soup as your unsettled stomach could manage, you held out your arms to your big brother.

“Sammy, can you carry me to bed?”

“What part of me not wanting to get sick did you-“ Sam froze when he turned to look at you. When did you get so good at the puppy eyes? “You’re gonna be the death of me,” Sam groaned as he walked over to where you were still sitting with Dean. He reached down and pulled you into his arms, and you smiled and leaned against him.

“Thanks Sammy.”

Dean smiled as Sam turned and carried you out of the room.

“Where are we going?” You asked as Sam turned down the wrong hallway.

“My room,” Sam said. “You wanna sleep in there?”

“Really?” You grinned. You hadn’t really wanted to ask, but Sam seemed to have read your mind.

“Your germs are all over me anyway, I figured it can’t get worse,” Sam grunted as he slipped into his room and set you down on his bed. You scooted over immediately, making room for him.

When he finally got comfortable under his blankets, he laid one arm out in an open invitation, and you responded by coming in closer to lay against his shoulder.

“Thank you, Sammy,” you whispered sleepily, smiling when Sam pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Feel better, kiddo.”

#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #dean and sam #dean winchester x you #sam winchester #sam winchester x reader #supernatural dean #the winchesters #winchesters x reader #winchesters x sister #sam and dean #dean winchester x sister #dean winchester x sister!reader #spn sam winchester #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x you

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Dream Warriors Chapter 4

Title: Dream Warriors Chapter 4

Summary: Sam and the reader discuss her dreams. Dean and the reader make some progress on the case and their relationship.

Characters: Reader, Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, other original characters

Word Count: 3,700

Warnings: Mentions of miscarriage, angst

Read Chapter 3 here.

You and Sam both continue to stare at your perfectly healed hands. All traces of the burns were now gone. You look up at Sam, tears stinging your eyes.

“You saw that, right?? I’m not going crazy. You saw that too,” you practically beg. He nods his head slowly, trying to process what he’d just witnessed.

“What’s going on, Y/N?” He asks. You shake your head quickly, looking back at your hands.

“I wish I knew,” you mumble. You flex your hands slowly, wiggling your fingers as well. “I’ve been having these dreams. We thought it was just stress from the miscarriage and due date but now…”

“Dreams?” Sam asks, watching you closely. You look up at him and nod.

“It’s all so normal. No monsters. Our families are alive. Dean and I are very clearly in love but I married someone else who’s been cheating on me. You finished school and you’re getting married to Jessica,” you tell him. He frowns a little more and nods. “When I’m there, when I’m in the dreams, all of this is just a dream. A dream I hardly pay attention to. And it all feels real, holding my daughter feels real.”

“The burns?” He asks, cutting his eyes to your hands.

“I went to get a pie from the oven in a rush and forgot potholders,” you explain. He nods again then shrugs his shoulders.

“Okay, ugh…normally, I’d agree that it’s just your subconscious but…” He trails off and you nod. “What are you thinking? A spell? A djinn maybe?” He asks as he makes his way back to his laptop. You frown, pulling your knees into your chest.

“I don’t know what to think, Sam,” you tell him. He nods and starts to type on his computer. You sit in silence for a moment before looking around. “Where’s Dean?”

“Went to talk to the sheriff again,” he says, picking up John’s journal. You roll your eyes, throwing the blankets off of yourself.

“The sheriff isn’t going to talk to him. Why didn’t he wake me?” You ask as you move to your bag. You open it to find that Dean had taken your fed clothes last night and put them away neatly.

“He wanted to let you sleep as much as possible. You really scared him last night,” he says. You stop what you’re doing and look at him, confused. “When you heard that baby crying?”

“That was Ella,” you say. He raises an eyebrow in question and you sigh, looking back into your bag. “My daughter. I mean – the baby in my dreams.” Sam frowns as he watches you.

“Y/N, she isn’t real,” he reminds you. Rolling your eyes, you rise to your feet, clothes in hand.

“I told you, Sam. When I’m in the dreams, she’s the realest thing in the world. I’d give my life for her in a heartbeat,” you tell him. He nods slightly.

“Well try not to do that. Minor injuries may heal but dying?” He asks. You frown and nod, turning for the bathroom. “Want me to call Dean?”

“I’m not gonna tell him,” you inform Sam before closing the door behind you. You hear his chair scrape the floor before he approaches the door.

“What do you mean you aren’t telling him?” He asks. Sighing, you begin to change clothes.

“He’s already worried about me enough. I’m not giving him more reason to,” you call through the door to him.

“Y/N, something is hurting you in your dreams. That’s not something you should hide from him,” he says. You finish buttoning up your shirt and pull the door open again.

“Please. We can figure this out. Me and you,” you plead with him. He shakes his head slightly, conflicted.

“Nothing good ever comes from any of us keeping secrets, Y/N. You tell us that all the time,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest. You reach out and place your hands on his arms gently.

“Sam, I’m begging you. Just…one day. Let’s see what we can find in one day and if we don’t get anything or if things get worse tonight, then I’ll tell him,” you say. You bite your lip, waiting for his response. A car door closes from just outside the room and your pleading look turns to panic. “Sam, please.”

“Okay. Fine. One day,” he relents, turning back towards his table in the corner. You let out a sigh as the door to the room opens and Dean steps in. He’s got three cups of coffee and a white bag in his hands. He smiles widely when he sees you.

“Hey, Sleeping Beauty finally woke up,” he teases, setting the breakfast he’d picked up down on the table. Sam takes one of the coffees and looks into the bag.

“Find anything out?” He asks, pulling a glazed donut from the bag. Dean picks up the other two cups and starts towards you.

“Well, they finally got an ID on one of the victims. Monica Lester. Married. From a town about an hour east of here,” he informs you both. He holds one of the cups out to you and you smile a little, taking it. You thank him and he winks at you before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Sheriff Anderson has so graciously agreed to let me do the notification.”

“I’ll go with you,” you tell him before taking a drink from the coffee. He frowns at you and shakes his head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. The man just lost the woman he loved and their unborn baby, Y/N,” he says. You sigh and nod, walking over to the table.

“And if anyone can understand at least part of that, it’s us,” you tell him as you reach into the bag yourself.

“Yea, just part of it, sure,” Dean mumbles, rising to his feet. You look at him quickly.

“What?” You ask. He smiles a little and shakes his head, walking over as well.

“Sammy, you good to stay back and keep digging?” He asks. Sam glances between the two of you before nodding.

“Yea, I’m fine,” he says. You give him a pointed look and he nods his head once. “I’ll let you know if I find anything.”

The two of you load into the front seat of the Impala and begin the hour-long drive to the first victim’s house. The ride is quiet, neither of you saying much at all. The invisible wall between you, that you had just started to believe could be torn down, now seemed to be reinforced and even bigger somehow. Dean parks the car on the curb in front of the house and the two of you look over at it.

“You sure about this?” Dean asks. You look over at him.

“Oh, now you��re talking to me again?” You ask. He stares at you for a moment, seemingly stunned. “Yes, I’m sure. Come on.” Pushing the door open a bit too violently, you climb out of the car and slam the door. Dean gets out quickly and rushes around.

“I don’t know why you’re mad at me, but you don’t have to take it out on the car,” he says, fixing his tie. You stop in your tracks halfway across the yard. Dean gets only a few steps ahead of you before stopping and looking back.

“I just wish you’d talk to me,” you tell him. He shakes his head, taking a step towards you.

“Talk to you? Y/N, I try to talk to you all the time. You shut me down,” he huffs, exasperation clear on his face. You stare at him before walking to the front door quickly. “See??”

“We’re on a job, Dean,” you insist, reaching for the doorbell. He grabs your hand before you can make contact with the button, holding on to you tight.

“Y/N,” he pleads. You pull your hand away from his and press the button, hearing the bell ring inside. Footsteps quickly approach the door and Dean straightens up, reaching into his coat pocket as you do the same. The door opens and a man, around the same age as you and Dean, looks between you.

“Chris Lester?” Dean asks. The man nods, panic quickly spreading across his face. “We’re with the FBI. Agents Wayne and Prince. Could we speak with you?”

“Oh God,” he prays, voice trembling. You reach out and place a comforting hand on his arm.

“We should sit down,” you tell him. He nods his head slightly before turning to lead the way. You two follow and Dean pushes the door closed, glancing around the house. Mr. Lester leads the two of you into what seems to be the living room of the house. He sits on the edge of an arm chair as you and Dean take seats on the couch. The man leans forward and wrings his hands nervously.

“Is this about Monica?” He asks. You glance at Dean and he sighs, looking down at his own hands.

“Mr. Lester, we’re sorry to have to inform you but…your wife’s body was found three days ago about an hour from here,” Dean tells him.

Chris’ face falls slowly as each word is processed. You can see the moment his heart breaks in his eyes. He slumps forward with a wail and Dean quickly reaches out, catching him. You allow Mr. Lester a few minutes with his grief before Dean speaks to him again.

“I know it’s hard but we need you to answer a few questions so we can catch whoever did this.” Chris nods and slowly moves himself back into the chair. Dean sits back on the couch and straightens his jacket.

“Can we get you anything?” You ask. Chris shakes his head and wipes at his cheeks.

“No. You, ummm, you have questions?” He asks, voice still thick with tears. You nod and look at Dean.

“Do you know of anyone who would want to hurt your wife?” He questions. Chris shakes his head, looking at his hands.

“No one. Monica is…” He stops and swallows back more tears. “She was an amazing woman. Everyone loved her. What happened?” You frown and shake your head.

“We’ll spare you the details for now but it doesn’t appear that she suffered,” you tell him. He nods slightly, running his hands over his face.

“Why would someone do this?” He asks, starting to lose it again. Dean reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Chris’ shoulder.

“It’s not going to make sense. No matter what we find out. Believe me. I know how you feel,” he tells him. Chris looks up at him and you bite your lip, looking down at your hands. “About three months ago, my girlfriend went to the store. Broad daylight in a crowded parking lot, a man stabbed her. She was six months pregnant. I lost them both that day.” You look at Dean quickly, fighting back tears. Chris shakes his head slightly. Before you can say anything, the sound of little feet running causes you all to sit up straight.

“Daddy.” A little girl, about four or five, runs into the room. “Who are you?” She asks, looking between you and Dean. Chris wipes at his eyes before forcing a smile.

“They’re friends,” he tells her. You put on your best smile before rising and walking over to her.

“My name’s Y/N. What’s yours?” You ask, kneeling down in front of her. She smiles back at you widely.

“Claire,” she says. Your smile widens a little.

“I have a friend named Claire,” you tell her. “Could you show me your room?” She nods quickly and takes your hand, pulling on it. She leads you up the stairs and into an adorably decorated princess bedroom where she immediately runs over to her dollhouse.

You take a seat at a little tea table in the corner where you spend the next several minutes being introduced to a number of dolls. This is immediately followed by a Barbie fashion show, Claire showing off all of her outfits. While you smile and laugh at the young girl, you can’t help but think back to what Dean had said. I lost them both that day. It felt like the final nail in the coffin that now held your relationship.

After a few minutes, a gentle knock at the door draws your attention. It opens and Chris steps into the room, a sad smile on his face. He tells you that Dean is outside and you say goodbye to Claire before going downstairs. Stepping out onto the porch, you find Dean in the yard on his phone, presumably with Sam.

“Yea, sounds good. We’ll see you later,” he says before hanging up. He drops his phone back into his coat pocket. “He’s got the names of the other two victims. They’re from the same town the opposite direction so he’s gonna go see their families.” You nod slightly and cross your arms, looking down. “Y/N…”

“I’m not dead, you know,” you cut him off. He scoffs a laugh causing you to look up.

“Yea, I know. Do you?” He asks. You stare at him, stunned. “I tried talking to you in the car and you were practically catatonic. You’re mourning. I get that. I am too. But I’m not the one doing the pushing.” You shake your head slightly.

“I’m not…”

“You are! You flinch away from my touch. You barely speak to me. I want to hold you again. I want to kiss you again. I want to make love to you again. And if you aren’t ready for that yet, that’s fine. I get that. But…tell me what I need to do to fix this,” he pleads. You shake your head again, fighting back a sob, and move to walk past him. He reaches out, catching your elbow. “Y/N, talk to me!” You spin to face him, jerking your arm from his grasp.

“Get mad!!” You snap at him, shoving at his chest. He stumbles a step back. “You never got mad!!”

“I’m mad as hell. If you’d seen what I did to that demon when I found him…” He trails off and you wipe at your eyes quickly.

“Not at the demon, Dean!! Get mad at me!! Blame me!! It was my fault!!” You scream at him through your sobs. He stares at you, wide eyed, and shakes his head. “It was. I was her mother and I should have protected her better.”

“Sweetheart, I could never blame you for that. If anyone’s to blame, it’s me,” he says, reaching out for you.

“No, you’re not!! You weren’t even there!!” You insist as he gently takes your arms in his hands.

“Exactly. If I hadn’t been out on a hunt, if I had been home with you, I could have stopped him and we’d have our baby right now,” he says. You shake your head as you stare at him, bewildered.

“That’s ridiculous. We agreed you’d continue to hunt,” you tell him. He nods slightly, slowly pulling you closer to him.

“What’s even more ridiculous is you thinking I could or should blame you. From the day you found out you were pregnant, you were in full mom-mode. And it was the greatest thing I’d ever seen. You stopped hunting, stopped drinking, stopped eating junk. You were already an amazing mom and she wasn’t even here yet,” he says, his voice soft and calming. His arms hesitantly and slowly wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest. Your firsts clench at the lapels of his jacket, as though you’re clinging on for dear life. “Let me fix it,” he pleads. A sob breaks through as you bury your face in his chest. Dean’s chin comes to rest on top of your head as he holds you close, rubbing circles into your back.

The two of you stand in that same spot, clinging on to one another, for what feels like forever. Your sobs eventually begin to subside and Dean’s arms loosen enough for you to look up at him. His lips brush your forehead and you feel yourself smile.

“Sam’s out for a little while. What do you say we go back to the room and talk some more?” He asks, looking down at you. You nod, wiping at your cheek.

“I like the sound of that,” you tell him. He smiles a little and leaves one arm around your waist as he pulls you to the waiting Impala. He opens the door for you and you slide in all the way to the middle.

After closing the door, Dean goes around and slips into the driver’s seat. He looks at you and smiles widely as you wrap your arms around his, laying your head on his shoulder. His hands come to rest on your knee, his thumb rubbing back and forth slowly as he sets out for the motel again.

The ride back is quiet again but a different, comfortable silence. You stay tucked into Dean’s side, holding on tight to his arm as he drives. Occasionally, he turns and places a kiss on top of your head. Each time, you respond with a kiss to his shoulder. For the first time in a long time, things actually begin to feel right again.

Back at the motel, you take a seat on the edge of the bed you’re sharing and watch as he makes his way around the room. He removes his suit jacket and lays it across the back of a chair before starting to loosen his tie. You smile as you watch the muscles in his shoulders through the tight dress shirt he’s wearing. You’re on your feet before you have a chance to second guess yourself. Slowly, you wrap your arms around him from behind. He tenses up for only a split second before relaxing in your arms. Standing on your toes, you press a kiss against his shoulder blade.

“I love you,” you whisper into the fabric of his shirt. His fingers ghost over your arms before he turns to face you. You pull your arms in between the two of you now, your hands resting on his firm chest. He caresses your cheek with the back of his fingers before quickly closing the distance between you. Your lips move together in unison as he grips at your hips, pulling you impossibly closer.

************************************************************************

Later in the afternoon, you’re lying on top of Dean, your arms crossed over his bare chest as you watch him. He smiles at you sleepily and you can’t help but laugh.

“Wear you out?” You ask. He shakes his head, his hands running over your exposed back slowly.

“Nah, I’m good,” he says. You smile as you watch him for a moment. He reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear gently.

“I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you apologize. He smiles a little and shakes his head.

“We’re gonna be okay, Sweetheart,” he assures you. You nod slightly before stretching up and catching his lips with yours once more. He smiles in the kiss and threads his fingers into your hair.

The door opens suddenly and you pull away from Dean with squeak as Sam comes into the room.

“Hey – come on, guys!!” He says, turning his back quickly. Dean smirks at you as you scramble to pull the sheet across your chest. “I asked if you wanted a separate room for a reason.”

“Calm down, Sammy. What ya got?” Dean asks, pushing himself up in the bed. Sam glances over his shoulder slowly to make sure you’re covered before turning to face the two of you again.

“I’ve got a pretty solid lead on the Manananggal,” he says, handing Dean a brochure. You look over his shoulder at it and frown.

“That’s just a Lamaze class, Sam,” you tell him. Dean nods slightly, opening the pamphlet.

“Yea, Y/N and I were looking into some,” he says. Sam nods quickly.

“Exactly. What better place for a monster to find pregnant women than a class for pregnant women? I checked and all the victims attended this class at least once,” he says. Dean hands the pamphlet back to him then leans over the side of the bed, picking his previously discarded jeans up.

“Worth a shot. You coming?” He asks, looking at you as he pulls them back on. You bite your lip before shaking your head.

“I don’t think that would be a good place for me right now,” you tell him. Relief washes over him before he rises from the bed and rushes to the bathroom. You watch him go before looking at Sam. “Did you find anything?” You ask him quietly. He shakes his head, frowning.

“Nothing yet,” he tells you. You frown as well and nod, looking down at your hands. The memories of the burns come back to you. “If you go to sleep, just be careful, okay?”

“Yea,” you say, nodding slightly. Dean comes back out of the bathroom a few minutes later, fully dressed in his usual plaid and jacket combo. He smiles at you before giving you a quick kiss.

“We’ll be back. Get some rest,” he says. You smile your best and nod.

“Just be careful,” you tell him. He kisses you one more time before following Sam out the door and to the car. You fall back onto the mattress with a heavy sigh and run your hands over your face before pulling the blankets up around yourself. Your hands slips down to your stomach and you feel the scar. You know it’s real. The pain and grief. The love you have for Dean. It’s all real.

“This is real,” you repeat to yourself over and over, a steady mantra as you drift off to sleep in the late evening.

“This is real,” you mumble as your eyes open to the darkness of the very early morning. Your hand still on your stomach, you feel the smooth skin before sitting up and looking around Dean’s bedroom. “This is real,” you tell yourself, looking at the bandages on your hands.

Read Chapter 5 here.

Forever Tags: @roseblue373

Jensen Tags: @lostin-jensenseyes

Dream Warriors: @aylacavebear @winharry @djs8891 @suckitands33 @rickgrimeswifeu @deans-spinster-witch @jackles010378 @foxyjwls007 @cutiesarah @urinternetmom @justrealizedimmascifygurl @kr804573 @thej2report @just-levyy @snowayumi @alisyacsa

#fanfic #fanfiction #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #reader insert #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean x reader #supernatural fanfiction #dream warriors

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