thirdsaltyhunter
ThirdSaltyHunter
She/Her
Occasional shitposting, supernatural fanfiction and poetry
90 posts
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"Dean—"
He looked up to see you standing in the doorway, already in your pajamas which just happened to be one of his old t-shirts. Sam had gone to bed hours ago.
"Aren't you coming to bed?" you asked him, your forehead creased a little.
"I'm not tired," Dean sighed. "I'll be fine. I should keep working on this."
You stepped farther into the room. The floor was cold on your bare feet and the gentle padding sound of your steps echoed softly. "But if you don't," you said, stopping behind him and looping your arms around his neck, "I'll be so lonely without you. Come lay with me so I can feel whole again and fall asleep," you murmured. Your body leaned in against his and you nuzzled into the crook of his neck.
Dean sighed and his eyes closed, but he couldn't help smiling. His hand rested lightly on your forearm. "Are you trying to seduce me into healthy sleeping patterns?" he chuckled.
"Maybe," you hummed, kissing his neck. "Is it working?"
Dean laughed again. "Yes. Yes, it is."
"Oh, good," you breathed against his skin, and Dean could hear that you were smiling.
"Question..." Dean said softly. "You wearing anything else under that Metallica t-shirt?"
Now, it was your turn to laugh. "Why don't you come to bed and find out?"
"Oh, I'm definitely finding out," he said, pushing back from the table and turning just in time to see you scampering away toward the bedroom, biting your bottom lip.
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Y/N: How can someone say Dean is a killer?? He’s the most precious soft little soul…
Dean: (wiping blood off his face) YEAH, I'M ADORABLE!
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You can NOT imagine how hard I'd swoon if Dean said "as you wish" to me. I love that move so much
As You Wish
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: When Dean agreed to watch your favorite movie with you, you didn’t think it’d come with live subtitles.
AN: Here’s a little something in honor of Dean’s birthday! If you haven’t seen The Princess Bride, do yourself a favor. 🥰
Word Count: 600
Tags/Warnings: Fluff, and nothing but the fluff. (Established relationship.)
“My name is Inigo Montoya. You killed my father. Prepare to die!” Dean says, right in time with the iconic swashbuckler on the screen, complete with his best approximation at a Spanish accent.
You giggle against his side, hard enough to rock both of you on the bed. When he agreed to watch your favorite movie with you, you didn’t think it’d come with live subtitles.
“Are you gonna quote the whole damn movie?” you ask.
Dean brandishes an imaginary sword with his fist held out.
“HELLO! My name is—”
Biting your lip, you cut him off short by playing dirty. You wrap your arm around his middle and dance your fingers across his ribs. He’d never admit it, but he’s got sensitive sides.
He flinches and laughs on reflex. “Hey, hey! That’s a foul move!”
His arm tightens around your waist while his other hand closes around your wrist. You try to grapple with him, your bare legs tangling with his pajama-clad ones, but you both know it’s a losing battle.
Dean gathers you tighter against his chest and traps your wandering hand.
Huffing another laugh, you relax again. His heart clips at a faster pace under your ear. Your hand smooths up his chest and finds its way up the back of his neck.
Dean can't help it. He lets out a contented hum when your nails give his scalp a little scratch.
For a moment, his attention drifts away from the movie and down to you. He spies the soft edge of your smile, feels your hair starting to itch against his arm, your soft curves under his hand, pressing against him.
You two don’t get these quiet days often, but he wants to make sure you get some rest. You, Sam, and Dean spent about three straight weeks in a row with back-to-back hunts, and the last one had really taken it out of you. So now, Dean’s satisfied to see you so relaxed. Happy, even.
Yeah. You really do seem to be as happy as he (secretly) feels.
Sometimes, he finds that part hard to believe. If you could want this with someone like him, then maybe…maybe he doesn’t screw up all the time.
Dean tunes back into the movie just in time for Buttercup to jump out of the window in her pretty white dress. She and Westley join Fezzik and Inigo on white horses, and the couple shares the kiss that left all the others behind.
Dean glances down at your face. He’s amused by the way you’re eating up all this sappy rom-com crap. Your eyes are shining with unshed tears. He ducks down to press a kiss to your forehead.
“You just spring a leak over anything, don’t you?” he teases. You shove at his chest with a halfhearted hand.
“Only over the good stuff,” you retort.
He accepts that with a chuckle. When the credits start to roll down the screen, he reaches for the remote and searches for the episode you guys left off in Game of Thrones. You tap his chest.
“Hey, wanna go out to dinner tonight?” you ask. A warm smile plays on your lips. “Just you and me?”
Dean blinks. He doesn’t remember the last time you two went on an honest-to-God date. No time, no privacy, always something evil on your asses…
A decision made in his mind, Dean gives you a smile back. He brushes his thumb across your cheek.
“As you wish,” he says.
AN: 😘 Hope you liked this one!
Dean Winchester One-Shots
Dean Winchester Masterlist
Main Masterlist
Ko-Fi Me ☕
Dean W. Tag List:
@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb @vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91
@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @sanscas @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19
@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @deanfreakingwinchester @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420 @fics-pics-andotherthings-i-like
#dean winchester#the princess bride#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female reader#dean x reader
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Happy Birthday Dean
Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Warnings: kissing, implied smut
A/N: quick drabble for Dean's B-day, not proofread all mistakes are my own
Dean's POV
I slowly opened my eyes, waking from the feeling of her lips on mine and the smell of coffee. My eyes met hers and a soft smile spread across her face. She was straddling my waist, hair disheveled from sleep and looking gorgeous as ever.
"Mornin' beautiful"
"Good morning handsome", she said, leaning down for another kiss. "Happy birthday".
"Don't remind me", I groaned.
"Oh come on, I'll make it worth your while", she said kissing her way down my neck and across my bare chest.
"I'm sure you will". I smirked, leaning down to capture her lips again.
She pulled back gently. "I brought breakfast."
I looked over to the empty side of the bed to see a tray of food and coffee that had gone unnoticed until now. I guess I was too entranced in her to see the delectable looking spread that she had brought.
"After we eat I'll give you your first present of the day", she said with an innocent look that held so much implication behind it. She gave a sultry smile, gliding her hand down my torso to confirm exactly what she ment.
"Happy birthday to me"
#supernatural#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#spn#spn fanfiction#dean x reader#supernatural fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x you#happy birthday dean winchester#happy birthday dean#dean winchester birthday
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Honestly, I don't usually read series, but this is going to be (and already is) one of the best I've ever read
— THE LOVE LETTER COLLECTION : PART ONE
SUMMARY : being a dreamwalker, seeing every universe, having a hot boyfriend. there’s a million perks to that. this is the sad version.
PAIRING : dean winchester x dreamwalker!reader (f.)
CHARACTERS : rowena macleod, sam winchester
WARNINGS/TAGS : explicit(18+), angst, fluff, almost-smut, talk about depression, low self esteem, thoughts about past prostitution
WORD COUNT : 11k
A/N : title from a jamie's elsewhere song. this fills the time travel square on my @jacklesversebingo card. inspired by loki season two, please don’t change by Jungkook, and the spider-verse movie. no spoilers. This is written from Dean's perspective and in first person (it was fun but tough) X
I couldn’t sleep tonight.
It’s normal.
She’s asleep next to me, breathing slow and quietly. Her chest rises subtly with each breath. Her lips are parted, just slightly.
Her soft hair is splayed over the pillow like the rays of a sun and she’s facing me. One of her hands rests on her stomach and the other is bent upwards beside her, her hand resting in a loose fist by her neck.
Her steel necklace rests haphazardly over her neck. The chain is thin and fragile. Glimmering in the faint light coming through the opaque hotel curtains. A tiny and thin, rectangular centrepiece is lined with miniature gems and suddenly stops leaving a centimetre free of plain steel, and it rests in the dip of her collarbone.
She’s quiet tonight. Laying still, unmoving. I smile at her, resist the urge to touch her smooth skin or brush her hair away from her shoulders. She wakes up easily, a light sleeper, the cutest one. I’m surprised my staring doesn’t wake her.
Memories move in and try to overcast my mind. At least she takes me away from the darkness that threatens to consume me. Right now, I’m focused on her and the way she breathes.
I try reminding myself of what I have right now. Her. Sam. Cas. Jack. That’s all that matters. I won’t even remember why the feelings overflooded my chest, poisoning my mind, breaking me down until I’m down. In the morning, when the sun shines and pours through the window, I realise it isn’t so bad. When her soft voice flows into my ears, when the flowery aroma of her intoxicates me, when her warm touch comforts me, when the sweet taste of her lips makes me forget what I had been worried about at night.
It’s always the same. Like her, I learned to live with the pain.
She moans softly beside me. Not a sexy moan. It sounds irritated at something. I turn fully onto my side to face her, panic makes my stomach sink. I frown and my train of thought is lost as I wait to see if she’s having a nightmare or not.
She mumbles something I can’t understand, but she doesn’t seem to be in distress. She turns over onto her side, facing me fully. Strands of her hair fall gracefully over her face. I move back slightly but her arm lands in my waist, trapping me in place by entwining her legs with mine. I squirm when her elbow pokes my ribs and I reach out at last, caressing her cheek. With a few whispers of her name and some gentle prodding, she shuts up and her eyes flutter open.
She groans gently and whispers my name, adorably disoriented. I chuckle and lean forward to kiss her forehead before she could even fully wake up. She hums anyway, satisfied and scoots closer to me. Her soft legs slide against mine again; it makes me warm.
She’s moving up on the bed, too, and slides one of her arms under my neck to pull me closer. I willingly go and I grin as soon as my face is pressed against the top of her breasts. I breathe her in and close my eyes. Her skin smells amazing and she gently starts scratching my scalp with her nails. I moan quietly when a shiver runs up my spine and I keep her in place with one arm wrapped around her waist from beneath her.
I move my other hand up to her jaw to tip her head back to kiss her neck. I can hear her breath hitch and she starts to squirm, her thighs become tense and they start to move against my own. When I thread my fingers through her hair and tug weakly, she rolls her hips against mine.
She’s breathing heavier already. I love how she reacts to me.
Heat blooms in my stomach, my cock twitches, and my insides clench instantly when she wraps her arm around my shoulder and then pulls my own hair. I grunt softly against her neck, but she’s pulling away. Her nose bumps against mine and she finds my lips with her own, soft and warm.
I hold her tighter, lowering my hand to squeeze her ass. She smiles against my mouth and I do, too, nibbling on her bottom lip. I move her hair away from her face before sliding my hand down her shoulder, teasingly bringing the strap of her bralette down. She arches her chest into me and I lean down to latch onto her nipple once I get the soft material beneath her chest.
“What were you dreaming about?” I ask curiously. My warm breath hits her wet nipple and she shudders. I slid my hand out from beneath her to play with the hem of her underwear. Slowly, I let my hand sneak into the front.
“Uh,” she trails off distractedly, she attempts to hold me in place against her breasts. I didn’t have any plans on doing anything besides that, but I pulled away on purpose to watch her open her eyes and complain about my inactivity. “Hey, why’d you stop?”
I smirk at her and I pull my hand out of her underwear to hug her, pressing a kiss against her shoulder. I roll over on top of her, holding her in place with my hips against hers. “I wanna know what you dreamt of. You were moaning and movin’ around,” I explained with a frisky grin, trying to make her think that I’m assuming it was a wet dream.
She frowns instead and asks, “did I wake you?” She cups my cheeks and my face softens as I look down at her. I shake my head and I drop kisses along her face until I hear her laugh quietly. “You should’ve woken me if you couldn’t sleep,” she murmured.
I shake my head again and she rolls her eyes, pushing me away to turn her back to me. I follow her immediately to kiss her cheek, to make her not be irritated at me. She’s smiling before I even land a kiss to her face and I grab a handful of her ass instead, squeezing in retaliation.
“I was just gonna grab my phone,” she lies and laughs. She starts to wiggle around and almost fails to laugh quietly, trying to get me off her when I tickle her neck with kisses. I let her go eventually and she immediately reaches for her phone on the nightstand. Her screen turns on when she tilts her phone towards herself, a photo of me naked flashes my face and I get flustered, taking the phone from her after she whined, “it’s gonna be four?”
I stare at the photo in surprise. The photo was cut off at the bottom, barely showing my hip bones, hiding what she had been doing to me. I remember that day, it was our anniversary. We spent about two days together. She was giving me a handjob and she convinced me to let her take a couple of pictures. Who am I to deny her that?
Let’s just say there are more photos and a video.
“Hey! Give it back,” she pouted, wrapping her small hand around my wrist. I ignore her, and move away from her sneaky hands as I blush when my eyes trail back up to my face on the photo. I look like I’m about to orgasm.
“That’s a photo of me,” I stated bluntly. I unlocked her phone curiously and lo and behold, it’s a picture of me fucking her. My stomach clenches, I’m thrilled, even my cock starts to harden at the sight of me standing on my knees, my hand is splayed over her pelvis and my thumb is on her clit.
“Oh, I thought it was a photo of Henry Cavill,” she answers flatly. I feel my heartbeat rise and I bite my lip, I focus on her more than on myself, even if most of what I can see is me. I couldn’t decide whether to look at her in front of me or to keep staring at the angle she took the photo from.
“Shut up,” I mumble, fascinated by the high quality of her photo. I had used a pillow to angle her hips upwards. I was holding her leg up by her ankle and she had her other leg thrown over my hip… the sounds she made that day, they were unforgettable.
“Does it make you uncomfortable?” She asks suddenly, snapping me out of my horny daze. I look over at her and watch her bite her lip shyly. “I can change it, it was a joke… mostly.. at first, because now I enjoy looking at it. It’s not very convenient when I’m around other people though…” she rambled thoughtfully.
I don’t say anything and I set her phone down on the pillow. I pry her legs open with my hand and I slip my fingers inside her underwear, teasing her wet labia, tracing her entrance, and then I lift my wet fingers up to ghost them tortuously over her swollen clit.
“You like looking at it?” I smirk down at her. She bites her lip harder, staring up at me in attempts to look innocent as she nods at me. Her eyes shut momentarily and she starts to wiggle her hips impatiently. “What happened to you? You were so shy when we started dating,” I tease, making a ‘v’ with my fingers. I slide my hand down to cup her pussy, her clit brushes against the sides of my fingers and she gasps softly.
“You made me a slut. A horny one,” she whines playfully.
“You’re not a slut,” I laugh, brushing my lips against her cheek.
“Have you seen how I dress now? I feel so hot when I’m with you,” she admitted breathily. I blush at her words and my stomach flutters.
“Wearing sexy clothes don’t make you a slut, angel,” I reassure her and push my middle finger into her. She feels warm. I can feel the texture of the inside of her against my fingers and it turns me on. She’s wet and I love the feel of it every time I pull my finger out of her. “I’m not gonna stop you from doing what you wanna do. Or tell you how to dress. Or call you a slut when you wear… sexy clothes to seduce me. Besides, you look hot as hell to me all the time. And if I make you feel hot enough to wear somethin’ that you usually wouldn’t wear, I think I’m doin’ a pretty damn good job at being your boyfriend.” She’s speechless, either from the way I curl my finger inside her or from the words I just spoke to her. “You are seriously horny though. What’s up with that? You act like I don’t fuck you enough.” I say that and I add another finger inside her.
I stare as her head rolls to the side. She bites her lip, arches her back, and her legs spread open some more. She’s so sexy without even trying.
“I dunno about that one,” she murmured, “I think you’re so fuckable when you do stuff for me like you’ve read my mind, when you say stuff like what you just said right now.. when you’re.. you,” I smirk and lean in for a quick kiss. “I want to feel you everywhere. All over me. All the time. I’ve never wanted for someone as badly as I want for you. I’ve never needed someone as badly as I need you. You make me feel. I want to… I dunno… match you when it comes to sex... You’re.. everything.”
There’s something about the way she says it that drives me crazy. I somehow understand everything she’s trying to say and I pull my fingers out of her.
I need her.
“Fuck,” I whisper, pushing her underwear to the side. I move up her body, but Sam starts to groan beside us. I whine quietly and drop my forehead on her shoulder, releasing her underwear.
I feel her deflate underneath me, too. She apologetically plays with my hair and kisses the top of my head. I melt into her, trying to steady my heart, cool down my body, and make my dick soft at the same time.
“Have you ever had a dream where you hide something and you wake up thinking: ‘what if it’s actually there?’ And you know it’s dumb but you just have a feeling it’s not, and then you’re disappointed because it’s not there when you look?” Her attempt to distract me works. I lift my head and I furrow my brows at her very specific question, but she’s looking at me earnestly so I resist the urge to laugh.
“I don’t think so, no,” I answered her question thoughtfully. After a few moments, as I continue to think about her question, I move off her and lean on my elbow while gazing down at her. “Why? Is there somethin’ you’re tryna tell me in a cryptic way?” I smirk and she pouts.
“I don’t do that,” she replies with uncertainty. I can tell she’s going over any possible situation where she’s been cryptic without even noticing.
“Uh, you do it sometimes,” I say with a laugh. She frowns and then ignores me. It makes me want to kiss her.
“Well, I’m trying to tell you my dream,” she explains. I’m about to tell her to continue, but Sam’s tossing and turning stops, and he speaks to us sleepily.
“You guys already awake?” Sam yawns, I look over my shoulder and I watch him stretch.
“Yeah,” I answer, then I lay back down on my back.
“Unfortunately,” she answers with a sigh.
She starts to get out of bed and I frown. I move over closer and wrap my arm around her waist, pressing kissing along her back. She chuckles and doesn't move away from when she bends down. I can hear her rifling through her duffle bag and I let her go when I feel her stop. I take her spot, lay on my stomach and bury my face in her pillow to inhale the smell of honey and jasmine from her shampoo.
I hear her jump slightly and I slide my arms under the pillow, lifting my head to watch her pull her jeans up. I smile dreamily as I watch her slide them over her ass. When she bends over, I’m a hundred percent sure she’s putting on a show for me. She rolls the bottom of her jeans upwards into a cuff so they don’t drag across the floor.
“Need to use the bathroom, Sam?” She asks him innocently, but she’s looking at me with mischief in her eyes. I smile and hide my face in the pillow so I don’t laugh or moan.
“I’ll use it after you, go ahead,” he tells her, ever the gentleman. She says a little ‘mmkay’ and I can hear her step closer to me. I peek at her and watch her lift the sheets over my body. She kisses the nape of my neck before she leaves and I resist the urge to act like a girl when she does it.
“Was she having a nightmare again?” Sam asks, his voice is laced with concern. I turn to look at him, the sun starts to light up the room, and I watch as he puts his shoes on. “That one with the axe killer was terrifying. She couldn’t sleep for days after it,” Sam reminisces with a grimace on his face.
“She didn’t have a nightmare,” I reassure Sam. I feel relief, the same as the sigh Sam releases when I respond, and I sit up.
Sam opens his laptop and his brows furrow as he stares at the screen. But his question takes me back to that night. I think about it like it just happened. I didn’t know what to do, neither did Sam, at first, because as soon as I’d touched her thrashing body, she’d fallen off the bed. She had a bruise on her cheekbone afterwards to show for it.
She never woke up when it happened, not until I picked her up off the floor. But even when she opened her eyes and saw me, the monster pulled her back into her dream and continued to chase her.
I remember Sam trying to help me as she tried to wiggle out of my grip, her dream bleeding into reality. She was strong for such a small woman and she slipped repeatedly from my grip and into Sam’s. We held her down on the bed instead and waited for her to wake up on her own.
I’d never been so afraid for her before. I’d never had my heart broken by her like that night when she immediately broke down crying upon waking up fully, holding onto me tighter than she’d ever held me before.
I cleaned the cuts on her legs and her back, I tended to the rope burn on her wrists. She was covered in bruises. I was grateful that she didn’t have anything broken or a deadly wound. But her mind was broken. It is broken. She was depressed for a few days after it had happened. I couldn’t help her in any way, but I was there for her the entire time.
It happens sometimes, more back then than it does now. She’d dream about something and it would break her. She falls apart and I help build her up—like she’s done for me a million times before. The dreams, nightmares, take a toll on her because she can’t do much in terms of helping out.
I feel like she’s a little more numb to it now. Like the depression got old. Like it’s just the same old emotions that have tried to drown her before. I’ve seen it with admiration and a bit of humour. The spite she feels when they come up after years of feeling controlled by it. I’ve seen her at her lowest and I’ve seen how resilient she can be—even on her own.
She tells me now when she doesn’t feel right, but she sounds more irritated by it than actually brought down. Sometimes she repeats or mocks whatever dark thought crosses her mind out loud and it’s half-funny. I still reassure her that it’s not true, just in case she’s pretending to be strong, just in case they’re sounding too true to be a lie.
If it’s really bad, I can tell because she goes mute. I let her cry once she opens up to me. I hold her and I let her feel it until it passes. There’s no point in trying to be positive sometimes or pushing down her feelings when they’re there for a reason. She lets it out and then she feels embarrassed because she wonders how she could think it was true. It’s a cycle, one I’m used to feeling myself just as much as she is.
It’s harder for me than it is for her to open up. I’m not used to it. God knows I want to tell her, but the words turn to a knot in my throat and my tongue gets heavy as they rest there. I’m afraid I’ll burden her, even when I try to reason with myself that I’ve never felt like she was a burden for having feelings, it doesn’t help. Because she’s herself and I am me. Still, I think she’s learned to understand me, even in silence.
I love her.
She steps out of the bathroom with a cute flowery top and a green cardigan after about six minutes and I smile at her. She gleefully twirls her way to me with a playful, “hey, Sammy. Morning, handsome,” and quickly kicks off the slippers she’s wearing to jump on the bed. Sam laughs quietly and goes into the bathroom now that she’s done.
I immediately bring her in for a kiss. My fingers tangle in her hair and I moan when her tongue prods at my lips. I can taste her minty breath when her soft tongue slides into my mouth. My hands fall to her waist; hers rise to my face. She kisses me passionately, her fingers thread through my hair and she holds me in place. She starts sucking my tongue into her mouth and I don’t even know what to call the sound that came out of me. I grab onto her tightly, his head feels fuzzy, my body is warm and tingly everywhere as she devours me. When her tongue runs along my top teeth, I have to resist the urge to bite her tongue but she begins to trace the roof of my mouth and pushes my mouth closer to hers with her hand on my jaw.
When she pulls away, she’s breathless. Like me. A string of saliva breaks between our mouths when she gets off me and I wish we could linger on it, but I’m too dazed to bring her back. I know my hair is messy and I lick my mouth to taste her again. My eyes are fixed to her movements, I know I look dumb as I continue to stare at her while she digs through her duffle bag.
Her hips sway when she walks across the room and she bends over the table slightly to open the curtain. She has a small pink bag, and takes out a green hand mirror to use as she gets ready. I inhale and try to compose myself while she fixes her eyebrows.
“Can we talk about your dream so I’m not horny all day?” I asked, getting out of bed to get ready, too. She laughs and wiggles her brows experimentally. She seems satisfied and then takes out a lash curler.
“Okay, yeah,” she agrees with a smile, but quickly glares at the lash curler. She inhales sharply before nervously bringing the metal thing to her eye. I can tell she’s freaking out with its proximity, and I grin when she has to take a deep breath after pulling it away before trying again.
I take my jeans out of my own duffle bag and start to put them on while we talk, and I ask, “so you dreamed you hid something and you think it’s real this time?” She curls her lashes at last, three times for a few seconds and then she moves on to the other eye. She bats her lashes at the mirror and then she stares down at her bag thoughtfully.
“Yeah, it’s in your duffle bag, but I didn’t put it there. I watched someone else do it and they told me to find it when I wake up,” she explains with a frown, then she frowns harder. I stare at the bag and open it up but I don’t see anything strange. “I’m gonna be mad, too, because I’ve hidden awesome stuff that I want to have—when I dream sometimes, and I’ve never found them.” I chuckle quietly and shake my head, but I start rifling through it to find whatever she could be talking about.
“Why is it important that you find it?” I ask curiously and dump everything inside onto the bed. She takes out a pink bottle and gets the wand out to place a few wet dots of pink on her lips. She presses them together to evenly spread the colour and then puts two smaller dots on her cheekbones.
“I don’t know yet,” she trails off and closes the tint. She then evenly rubs the hue over her cheeks. “He told me that once I get it, he can tell me,” she puts the small pink bag away in the duffle bag again and gets on the bed on her knees to look for it with me.
She carefully grabs my shirts, unfolds them and folds them perfectly again before putting them inside my duffle. She does it over and over with my help, until I grab a flannel and out falls a white rock shaped like a tiny white planet.
“Aha!” She exclaims, just as Sam steps out of the bathroom, confused.
“What’s that?” Sam asks, walking over to us to analyse what she grabs excitedly from the bed.
“It’s a rock,” she grins happily. She must forget that Sam doesn’t know what’s so important about it or why I have it in my stuff, so I explain it all to him as I finish folding the rest of my clothes.
“Is that like an infinity stone or something?” I ask when Sam starts inspecting the white rock. She breaks, a soft laugh lights up her previously serious face, and she’s looking at me with the brightest eyes. Sam, on the other hand, ignores me.
“I can do some research when we get to the bunker,” Sam offers, handing her the rock, but she shakes her head.
“I don’t think that’s necessary. Dream-Dean told me to take it to Rowena and I have to tell her that she has to use it on me,” she explains to us. I narrow my eyes at her when she says that to Sam. She was completely vague about the person she dreamt of at first, but now she’s saying I gave it to her in a dream? Or at least some other version of me did.
“And what, you trust this… uh,” I laugh bitterly, jealousy makes my face hot. “Dream-Dean? Seriously? He could be using my body to manipulate you.” She opens her mouth and then she closes it. She’s watching me. I know she’s trying to find a way to explain without sounding like I’m right.
“He was in my dreams,” she explained slowly, “and he didn’t look like you do now. He was more of a uh, hot, aged up version of you.” That did not make me feel any better, but I couldn’t deny that it was funny and flattering. I don’t feel as hot anymore, not since I’ve aged, but knowing she thinks otherwise makes me flush.
“Hot? Am I not fucking hot right now?” I ask playfully, staring straight at her. She gets flustered and she starts to stutter as she begins to deny what I’m saying.
“No.. you are hot- Shut up,” she grumbles. Her face is red and I smirk at her.
“Guys, please,” Sam interrupted, “let’s focus.”
“Yeah, stop flirting, babe, we need to focus,” I shake my head with a fake frown. I turn to Sam and resist a smile, even though he lets out an irritated sigh at the two of us. I can feel her behind me, I feel a tingle of thrill run up my spine, but steady my voice when I ask, “how does something from your dream appear in our world?”
Sam must think it’s a good question because he turns to look at her with a curious face. I feel her hand land at the small of my back, I can feel her warmth spread over my body, and then it moves away, leaving me cold, but I don’t expect the way she swats my ass.
“Uh… quantum physics?” She says, unsure. That distracts Sam from the way I jump, he acknowledges it, but ignores me to focus on her words. My ass stings a little, but honestly, even I’m intrigued by her words. “Pfft, I don’t know, I don’t remember anything from my physics degrees,” she snorted sarcastically.
“My general knowledge of that is the Ant-Man stuff,” I tell her with a serious face. She smiles affectionately, amusement glitters in her eyes, and she forces herself to look away when Sam comes up with a plan.
“I can get another hunter to take over the case,” Sam suggests, “Rowena’s a call away, we can head back to the Bunker while she meets us there.”
“Yeah, sounds like a plan.”
“Is there anything special about this rock?” Sam askes Rowena, looking across the table as the redheaded witch uses her finger to read a few lines from the giant book. She picks up the rock, then tilts her head and her curls follow the movement.
“Well, it’s just Scolecite,” Rowena started, “but I can feel something very powerful inside.” Rowena takes the stone and brushes her thumb over the orb, then she carefully gazes past me. “Where did you say you got this from?”
I look behind me, and she has the cutest, wide-eyed look on her face when she looks up from the sandwich she’s eating. I bite my lip and smile at her, then I turn back to Rowena. “A… uh… alternative universe version of me gave it to her. Why?”
“It feels different,” Rowena pauses to think. “Everything in our world has a certain.. signature. This feels like it doesn’t belong to our world. It makes more sense to me now that I know it’s from another universe.” I nod slowly, trying to make something of that information. I wipe a hand down my mouth and I lean back, giving my attention to my favourite person in the whole world.
She passes the rest of her sandwich to me quietly and I eat it. It somehow tastes better than the one I made for myself, and I made both of them. She gazes at me as I eat, but she asks Rowena, “you can use it on me, though, yeah? It won’t be a problem?” We look away at the same time, Rowena looks amused and then she recollects herself.
“I can,” she confirms, then cautiously asks, “are you sure you want that?” It makes me worried suddenly. Was I really gonna let my girlfriend use some magical, dimensional rock we know nothing about just because some older version of me told her to?
“Should we not?” I ask earnestly.
“I’ve never done anything like… this,” Rowena admits, pushing the book slightly towards me, “it’s possible everything will go right, but it will be extremely painful. This rock is a vessel. It’s holding something massive and powerful inside, and I’ll be putting that inside her.” It makes me more nervous when she explains it like that. Is that why she didn’t want us to do research before, because she knew there were risks? I abandon the sandwich as it begins to make me feel sick, but I’m interrupted from asking more questions.
“Dean, it’s fine. All of you, please,” she said exasperatedly. “I’m going to do this and I’m not changing my mind. I’m sure and I can handle anything that happens, okay? And if I can’t, we can stop, but I’m trying again.” She was looking straight at me, but my eyes were glued to the sandwich that was making my stomach upset.
“I don’t get why you suddenly trust the guy,” I say quietly.
“It’s you, Dean, if I’m going to trust anyone, of course, it’s going to be you,” she replied steadfastly.
“Okay, but it’s not me.” I look at her and plead that she doesn’t go through with it.
“I know that you’re afraid, Dean, and you’re usually right about stuff like that, but I’m sure of this, okay?” She puts her hand behind my neck reassuringly. Her hand is cold and it makes me shiver, I shake my head.
“You’ve made up your mind, darlin’, that’s fine with me,” Rowena told her. I get up and I stare at everyone at the table in disbelief, but the only ones who look at me are Rowena who I know is curious about what will happen and my girlfriend who’s stubbornly made up her mind, but Sam doesn’t look at me, and I know he agrees with them.
“Seriously? We’re gonna do this knowing jack shit about this goddamn rock and what it’s gonna do to you when you use it?” I scoff and Rowena opens her mouth to explain something I won’t understand, but I turn away from them because, like them, I won’t be convinced otherwise.
I get to my room, but I don’t even know what to do with myself now that I’m doing nothing. I pace for a while and then I stand there. I look at the stuff that I keep in my room, the stuff I use to make these concrete walls feel like home. I don’t hear anyone behind me, I know they’re waiting for me to cool down before they come find me. I assume they’re preparing everything for the spell in the meantime.
I go to the box that sits on the floor at the foot of my bed and I kneel down to open it. Only I know what sits way at the bottom. One of the perks of doing my own shit without being told, is that I get to hide stuff because my girlfriend doesn’t need to clean my stuff when I’ve already done it.
I pull out an unsuspecting, small wooden box from the bottom. When I open it, three rings glitter in the light of my room, it makes me nervous. I feel butterflies in my chest as the white gold glares at me, the diamonds on the one in the middle sparkle almost magically. I can’t let her jeopardise everything, but I can’t bear how it’ll change us if I stop her. It’s one thing to date her, but marriage is a whole other story. It’s eternity, at least to me, and I don’t think anyone would want that from me.
I’m fucked up in ways I can’t change, in ways I can’t ever say. Unless it’s some random person I’ll never see again, some person I don’t go home to. I know I’ve hurt her by doing that. I itch for hunts if I go two weeks without one, but I complain about wanting a normal life. I have a drinking problem I don’t address. I get angry at the ones I love, sometimes it’s blown out of proportion on my part. I make stupid decisions for the people I love, end up destroying the world more than once, or I willingly give myself as a sacrifice. Sometimes it’s not even out of courage, sometimes it’s the microscopic size of my ego, the nonexistent love I have for myself, or the fact that I want to give up.
I hide my pain behind jokes and laughs. I’d rather leave and sabotage something good rather than risk being hurt. I’m trapped in a cycle I can’t break out of, not the way the love of my life has. I’m stuck in ways I was treated by my father, my enemies. I believe every hurtful word and I can’t see myself the way her and Sam do.
I like questionable shit. She thinks it’s cute, sometimes she thinks it’s hot, but I’m not fucking normal. I do questionable shit. Not just the hunting and the killing. I have blood on my hands, seeped deep into my soul and into my mind. I have nightmares and flashbacks that don’t go away.
I’ve whored myself out for money, for food, for Sam, because my dad asked me to on cases. I feel disgusted with myself sometimes. I wish I’d waited. Sex was great when it happened, I liked it, it took my mind off shit in my life, but afterward it’s horrible. When they left or I left, it was the grossest feeling. Even if I stay ‘till morning, it ain’t the same. As much as I’d like to say casual sex is healthy and normal. I can’t say that’s the case for me. It was worse when I started dating her. I felt unworthy, I don’t even think she cares about who I fucked in the past, but I do.
I know all these things are bad and I can’t fucking change it. I don’t know how to stop it, I don’t know where to even start with myself. I’m too fucked up, I think so, I can’t be fixed. I can’t possibly make her happy forever. I’ll fuck up along the road. She probably won’t forgive me. I never expect her to.
I hear a knock on my door and I close the box, casually putting it back inside before getting up. My knees creak and I feel old suddenly, tired, too. I turn around to face the woman I love most. She has the softest look in her eyes and her lips form the saddest smile.
I still wonder if she can see how ugly I am.
“I haven’t changed my mind,” I tell her, sitting down on the box. Her eyes flicker down to my shoes and she sighs, then steps forward.
“I never expected you to,” she murmurs. She wraps her arms around my neck and I bury my face in her stomach.
We stay that way for a while. She feels warm and comfortable, my hands rest on her hips and my thumbs brush beneath the cropped, white shirt she’s wearing. Her skin is soft and warm, I know she appreciates Cas’ healing, choosing to erase any damage from monsters we’ve encountered. She smells sweet and expensive, the scent of her perfume lingers on her clothes, it’s familiarity makes me warm inside.
I pull away to look up at her. She watches me curiously, her eyes drift over my face, and she looks content as she does it. I take her wrists shyly, I kiss her pulse like she’s done to me a billion times before, and I quietly admit: “I just can’t trust him, I’m afraid you’ll get hurt or something worse. I can’t do it. I can’t let you do it without knowing everything...”
“I know that,” she tells me. There's a hint of irritation in her voice that hurts me, but then she gets down onto her knees and takes my face in her hands. “I can’t control how you feel, Dean, I can only control how I feel, and I need to do this.” She explains it to me as gently as she can, and while I can understand where she’s coming from, I just don't care. I’d lock her in the dungeon if it meant she wouldn’t do it, but I know that’s extreme. I know she’d hate me for it, I’d hate to be controlled that way again, too. That’s the only thing that stops me. “Dean, please be with me when I do it,” she begs softly.
I want to cry and break something out of frustration. She’s stubborn as hell, just as much as I am. Instead, I grab her face and I kiss her roughly. She moans lowly, surprised by the suddenness of my affection, but she returns my kiss. I pour into her how much I hate this idea, how much I need her to listen to me, how much I love her.
When I pull away, she chases my mouth to continue the kiss, and I can’t deny her. She matches my possessiveness when I press my lips against hers again. I can tell what she's trying to say with the way she effortlessly slides her tongue into my mouth, tugs my hair, and draws a deep grunt from my chest. Her kiss is intoxicating and I suddenly regret teaching her everything she knows.
I pull away with so much effort and I pant against her wet lips. Her nose brushes against mine when she pulls back further to gaze at me. She returns with a smile and kisses the corner of my mouth. “If something happens-”
“It won’t,” she interrupts me. She kisses my jaw and I tilt my head in the direction that she pulls my hair.
“But if it does… I love you,” I confess, my voice raspy. Her lips freeze on my pulse and I feel my body go rigid. I know I’ve told her before and she’s reciprocated, but I still, always fear she won’t return the sentiment.
“If you only say that when you think we’re gonna die, I’d prefer that you never say it at all,” she said quietly, pulling away from me. I watch her sit down with an unreadable expression on her face and I wonder what she’s thinking as my heart sinks into the very hands that rest openly on her lap.
“Guys, everything’s ready,” Sam says softly from the door. We both look up at him and we nod without saying a word. He hesitates, watches us carefully, his clever eyes gather information, and then he walks away.
I help her up off the floor and the air around us is thick. There’s a distance between us and I wonder how fucked up we are that I don’t even know how we got to this point when just a few seconds ago, I had my mouth pressed aginst hers. I know that the problem goes deeper than just what’s happening now, but I don’t know how I’ve managed to miss the stuff that bothers her.
I feel a little hope spark in my chest when her hand brushes against mine, even though it hurts, I hope she doesn’t take it from me. Her slim fingers tickle my palm and I clasp her hand fully inside my own, walking with her slowly to where Sam and Rowena were waiting in the library.
Everything was shifted around the place, once we got there. The tables were pushed against the shelves so that there was a big open area now where Sam placed a plastic sheet over the wooden floor, to allow Rowena to paint marks over it for the spell. The air smelled spicy and flowery, tickling my eyes, the smoke made the library grey, and I felt sick again.
“Okay, I need you to lay down in the centre and hold the rock right here,” Rowena demonstrated to her once we stepped inside the library.
She did as Rowena asked. I felt more and more anxious as the minutes passed, but soon, Rowena was chanting some magic words in another language while Sam inspected what was happening like a good little apprentice. If anything went wrong I was ready to jump in and stop whatever the hell kind of spell they were working on. It would be reckless, but I can’t stand the thought of her getting hurt.
Nothing happens for a few minutes, but the rock starts to glow in the centre of her chest. It begins to crack, pure white light breaks through, and I look over to her face to check that she’s alright, but she looks more sleepy than in pain. I can tell she’s not really here by the empty look in her eyes she gets when she’s bored or deep in thought.
Despite the lack of discomfort in her face, I can’t seem to relax. I just know something will go wrong, it always does. I see Rowena move back slightly and I look over at the witch with concern before looking back at my girlfriend who’s surrounded by the right of pure white cloud that looks like a whole galaxy of bright dust with gold and opal.
It’s not until Rowena begins to aggressively chant her spell that I visibly start to freak out. It reminds me of possession, the way the cloud of smoke starts to rise to get inside her. The white rock bursts and sends pieces of itself flying across the room before it dives right into the centre of her chest where the rock had been before.
I can hear her start to cry and there’s suddenly pulses coming from her. She scrambles up suddenly and I walk towards her to help her get out, but Sam stops me with his hand wrapped tightly around my elbow. I freeze and watch helplessly as she hunches over while she sits on her legs, as if her stomach was hurting.
“Don’t fight it,” Rowena announced in between incantations, “control the way you feel.” I can hear her sobs and I yank my arm from Sam’s grip with a glare. When I get closer, Sam doesn’t stop me. She shouts and I can tell she lets go completely. Suddenly it’s like the polarity reverses, it just stops and it sits there before it begins to move inside of her faster, and it ends just as quickly.
It’s quiet now. I gaze down at her cautiously and I step forward as the glow in her chest dims and I can see that she’s crying. Tears are running down her face, but she looks up at me blankly.
“Are you okay? Did it hurt?” I ask her tenderly, kneeling down. I take her wrists and I can feel the erratic beat of her heart. I search her eyes and she’s smiling now, like that didn’t just happen.
“No, I’m fine,” she laughs softly. I break a smile, but I’m still worried, and I cup her warm face in my hands, wiping tears from her red cheeks.
“You’re crying,” I whisper, kissing her forehead. She pulls away and takes my hand to examine my wet thumbs. She looks at them with confusion and then wipes her wet eyes, seeing for herself that she’s definitely crying.
“Those aren’t my tears,” she tells me. Before I can say anything, I see the floor beneath us suddenly transform into hexagonal shapes, showing small places I’ve never seen before—like photographs.
“Dean!” I hear Sam shout, but then the woman in my arms yelps when it starts to fall apart underneath us and we fall through. There’s nothing around us when we're falling and we cling to each other. Suddenly, there’s another hexagonal thing in the middle of the dark abyss and we start to fall through it—inside a building instead. I’m certain we’re gonna die.
But as we get a few centimetres above ground, I tighten my grip around her small body and we stop. There’s no impact, no pain, no sound. I open my eyes and I see the marble floor as it grazes my nose and then we fall the last distance with no problem.
“See? Nothing bad happened, you are wrong sometimes, Dean.” I look up, away from the girl underneath me whose head is tilted up towards the familiar voice with a smile on her face. I see myself. Definitely an older version of me with stubble—almost a beard—and longer hair. He’s wearing a black turtleneck and a black coat. It looks fucking awesome, but I think this guy was flirting with my girl in her dreams, so I glare at him instead.
“Who are you? What is this place? And what did you do to my girlfriend?” The guy only laughs, he’s not looking at me, he’s looking down at her. She’s looking at him like she’s his biggest fan in the world, but under the silent stare it’s like there’s some inside joke I’m not a part of and I feel so irritated.
“I’m you, from a future that doesn’t exist anymore,” he starts, finally looking at me, “this place is.. well, mostly I watch the multiverse, I can see all the timelines, make sure no one’s in danger. The most important job is preventing God from doing what he did before.” I look around at the room we’re in. The walls are black—architecturally speaking, everything is geometric. The lights are dim and there are destroyed statues along the walls in the hallway. The floor is dark red, shiny, but only acts as a rug would. The ceiling is tall, almost endless, and I’m sure there is actually no ceiling at all. “As for what we did to her..'' he trails off and bites his lip. “Long story short, we gathered your variants before they were killed off by Chuck and we put their souls in the rock. When you absorbed it, it made you powerful, not a soul-bomb like Dean. I’m talking about your dreamwalking abilities,” he explains to her.
“We who?” I ask. He’s about to answer, but I’ve got a million questions running through my mind the longer he talks and the longer I’m here. “How many variants, or whatever, is that, then? Also, what do you mean she’s more powerful?” She reaches out for my wrist and I look down at her, but I can’t calm down, I can’t slow down. I have no idea where we are or why they want her here. “And what does Jack think about all this?”
The older me laughs and shakes his head at me. It pisses me off. He’s handsome, but I’ll punch him anyway.
“Come on, I’ve got a meeting soon,” he told us, then started walking down the seemingly endless hallway. The doors opened strangely, one door slid upwards, but behind it was another door that sunk down into the floor. When we stepped outside, everything was black, there was a faint white light in the distance and the body of what looked like a leviathan. Not the ones we know, but the things without a human meat suit.
“Is this the future or something?” I ask. It’s all terrifying. I look down and see there’s a whole other level, and it’s all connected like a maze or a labyrinth. The floor we walk on to the next pyramid-like building is an opaque crystal structure that I know is thick as hell, but I’m scared shitless anyway. There’s no wind blowing, not even a sound, but when the older version of me speaks, his voice bounces strangely around us.
“Uh… see that bright light? That’s the beginning of time, all of this here, is the end. We’re technically in between,” he clarifies.
“So… wait, she can time travel?” I ask, somewhat delighted at the thought.
“Yeah, dreams are the easiest way to time travel,” he chuckles, “I use Baby to time travel. It’s my personal, sexy, TARDIS. Thanks to Jack, but he regrets that now.” He laughs heartily at that and I’m not gonna lie, I’m pretty jealous of the fact that he’s upgraded to a time travelling Impala. “Anyway… uh, there were only twenty six other variants of you,” he tells her. The small number shocks me, but I don’t dwell on it for long because she doesn’t seem phased. I’ll have to talk about that with her later. “And that portal you fell through? That’s what your abilities do now. When Jack would use your abilities, you could see them like picture frames in your mind, but now you can access them at any point, whenever you want.”
I look above and I can see there’s still more monuments above us somehow floating in the air, or maybe they’re being held by another structure, but I’m not sure. If we weren’t outside, risking our lives and falling off the walkway, I’d be amazed by this place. Whatever it is.
“As for what Jack thinks of this place,” he laughs heartily and looks at us. I can see sadness in his eyes, he can’t hide his emotions from me, but I don’t think he cares about that because he doesn’t look away. “I think I annoy him so much he doesn’t even care what I do anymore, besides he can’t destroy this place. It’s God-proofed. As for you, he won’t hurt you, I promise.”
“I don’t understand why you want me to be powerful,” she wonders out loud to him after a while. We’re standing by another door, this one opens like elevator doors, and the room is brighter. There’s gold, sparkling gems, and giant jewels scattered on the floor.
“I just wanted to find a way to keep you safe indefinitely,” he told her with a shrug. I pause for a moment, maybe he’s not as bad as I made him out to be. This whole time I was busy thinking he was endangering her, but he might actually be trying to keep her safe. I still think there’s something romantic going on, considering that it’s me, considering that he’d go through all that trouble to keep her safe. I wouldn’t do all that for just anyone. “I’m always checking on you, making sure you’re safe. I honestly spend so much of my time focusing on you instead of the whole multiverse,” he admitted bashfully. “I don’t think that’s a problem, but.. I think I’m in love with you enough, and you’ve already got your Dean. Also… I have people depending on me to focus on the job, which is way better than hunting, honestly,” he laughed nervously.
I narrowed my eyes at him for admitting that. He doesn’t seem phased because I look over and she’s blushing, trying to act normal. She’s never had a reaction like this to any other man who’s hit on her, but now that it’s someone who has my face, she’s acting the way she acts with me when I do it. I know she can’t control it, it’s me after all, but it makes my chest burn with jealousy.
“Listen, dude, I get that you’re all fucking awesome with your costumes and running this place, but stop hitting on her, okay?” I ask sarcastically with a tight smile.
“Dean,” she scolds me. She grabs my sleeve, tugs lightly, and she looks so fucking adorable right now, it’s making it hard for me to stand my ground.
“No, okay,” I groan exasperatedly, tugging away from her. “What the fuck, guys? I mean… seriously. Nothing in our lives is normal, but this shit is literally- I don’t even know what to make of any of this! It’s fucked up, you’re in love with her when you’ve never met her? What the hell?” I tug at my hair and then I slide my hands tiredly down my face.
She blinks up at me like I just told her the most insane conspiracy theory and I sigh. Her face softens and she hugs me instead of saying something. She nuzzles her face into my chest and I hear her breathe me in. Her arms are tight around my waist and I finally return her embrace, I kiss the top of her head, and my entire body releases the tension I’ve been keeping inside me since we started talking to Rowena.
“I get it. It’s me and you don’t even trust yourself,” the other Dean begins, “but when we sleep, we dream about each other's lives. We dream of her.” She pulls away from me and I force myself to look away to consider his words. “All of us. In every universe, every version of you. We see how close to happily ever after you are with the kindest, loving, most caring woman to exist in the entire multiverse. We want what you have, as fucked up as everything else in your life is, you’ve got this one good thing. And you do so much to fuck it up. You don’t have to trust us, but trust that she’ll stay with you.”
I think quietly to myself. As much as it irritates me, I should put myself in her shoes, too. She has to deal with hundreds of girls flirting and throwing themselves shamelessly at me and she never makes a big deal out of it. It’s because she trusts me that she doesn’t give a shit what they say or do. She jokes with me when they give me their numbers, claiming she’ll give them a call when she needs someone to babysit me. If they flirt, she’ll teasingly repeat it and bother me about it for the rest of the day. Whatever it is, she laughs and makes the best of something people would feel generally insecure about. That’s because at the end of the day, she’s the one I’m sleeping next to, she’s the one I’m waking up to, she’s the one who spends every second of every day at my side.
Nobody can compete with that.
The sound of doors opening thankfully breaks the silence. I don’t have to admit he’s right, but I look down at her in my arms, and her eyes tell me she knows exactly what I’m thinking.
“Sir, I’ve been look-” another voice that sounds like mine breaks us apart and I’m only half-surprised to see myself wearing that stupid Ken Doll suit Zachariah dressed me in for kicks to prove a stupid fucking point. “Oh…” Like the older version of me, he gawks at the woman who’s standing in front of me.
“Dean, this is.. well, this is ridiculous actually, I don’t gotta introduce us,” older Dean chuckles. The younger looking version of me has a cart with cardboard boxes and he continues to bring them towards us. “Also, don’t call me sir, we’ve talked about this,” he adds good-naturedly with a smile and a shake of his head.
“Uh, sorry. Hi,” Ken-Doll steps closer to her and, of course, my woman is on cloud nine. “Wow, you’re way more beautiful than I dreamed,” he breathes out. I puff my cheeks trying to hold back saying something snarky in response. But all self-control nearly leaves my body when she fucking giggles shyly and rubs the back of her neck.
“Okay!” Older Dean did something before I did, and the spell between Ken and my lover broke. “Did you get the files for Lush?” He asks Ken-Dean, giving me the side-eye, as if to tell me to cool down. I swear every version of me has gotten on my nerves without me having to meet any of them.
“Yeah… uh, yes, we’ve got her background, which universes she actually exists in, her status, what’s she’s currently doing, what she can do… y’know, the basics,” Ken informs him. Older me takes off the top of one of the boxes, sifts through files, and nods his head proudly.
“Great, so the team you’re leading? It’s all good?”
“Yes, we’ll be focusing on this case for the time being, keeping an eye on her,” he discloses, “we all agree she could be a danger to the timeline.” Both me and her are completely absorbed in the conversation they’re having. I’m curious about whatever the fuck they’re doing and why all those words sound so badass in a sentence together.
“We’ll talk about that later.”
“Right, the meeting, let’s walk together?”
Older Dean gave me a tight smile and I followed them both with my quiet girlfriend by my side. I should relax, there’s no harm in being in love with someone so long as they don’t make a move and I have nothing to be afraid of when it comes to her. She’s still standing next to me, her hand finds my wrist and I tug her into my side. She stumbles and laughs softly, letting me put my arm around her shoulders while she wraps her arm around my waist.
In just a few minutes, we walk by a whole bunch of me’s wearing soldier-like uniforms, they’ve all got numbers across their backs, a logo of a shooting star with the words ‘THE MONUMENT’ on their chest. Despite having been serious, they cracked upon seeing her, too. Their faces carried little smiles after passing her and her cheeks were red from all the attention she was getting.
“So, do we get chosen by Jack or how does this whole thing work?” I ask, trying to get her attention away from the hot soldiers. At least I know she’s attracted to me in every shape and style.
“Jack has no power here,” the older me reassured us again. “Typically, after the variants lose everything or once they die, they’re given the option to come here… we’re never surprised that they prefer to be here, surrounded by the rest of us, getting a chance to be closer to you.”
“Can’t be easy facing each other, knowing how you are,” she says astutely. I was thinking the same exact thing.
“Yeah, well… you changed all of that for us,” this time Ken spoke up. She looks up at them attentively and a little smile tugs at her lips.
There’s another me leaning against the wall by the door we’re about to go into. He’s smoking a cigarette and he’s covered in tattoos. I can see them peek out of the neck of his t-shirt, both arms are covered in sleeves of art, and he smirks as soon as he sees her. I roll my eyes, I know what to expect from every version of me that I see. Especially if they feel some sort of gratitude towards her for undoing all the horrible things they were put through against their will.
“Fuck, baby, look at you,” he praised. He even has the audacity to take her chin between his fingers and angle her face in his direction. She averted her gaze shyly, but I can tell she melts into him, especially when he brushes his thumb gently across her lip. He bites his own and I think about how lucky they are that she loves them because they’re alternative me’s. “At least one of us got lucky.” He let her go gently and took another drag of his cigarette before getting out of the way to get inside the room with us.
“Which Dean is that?” She asks quietly, but I can sense a bit of excitement in her tone. I squeeze her against my side as a warning, but she snorts at me.
“The original Dean Chuck had in mind,” older me replied, holding the door open for a few other ‘variants’ of myself to enter after us.
“Hot,” she hummed flagrantly.
“Sweetheart,” I beg quietly. It makes both the older and younger me laugh.
“Dean, it’s the truth, but I’m messing with you,” she laughs, too.
“You’re unbelievable.” Still, I can’t stop the smile on my face.
“You’d do the same if you were in a room filled with a bunch of other variants of me,” she reasoned, dragging me over to where there were empty seats. It wasn’t next to the older me, or Ken me, or tatted me. Next to her was a variant of me with a beard, a plaid neckerchief like a cowboy, wearing a tactical vest. Next to me was an alternate version of me wearing a black t-shirt with a firefighters’ logo.
Now that I’m sitting here looking at every variant of me around the hexagonal table, I start to realise this is literally a room filled with her sex fantasies of me. I can recall having worn most of these costumes when we have roleplayed for sex. She would dress up in something sexy for me, too, it was our thing.
I leaned towards her as the older me started talking about that Lush chick Ken me had been talking about. She leans into me to listen closely to what I have to say. “D’ya think they’ve seen us have sex?” I whisper discreetly. I notice the way her eyes widen and pink starts to glow over her cheeks. “Maybe… think they’ve had a little love session with their hand thinking of you? I don’t doubt it..” I whisper crudely. She shifts in her seat and I feel so smug now, I grab her rolling chair and I pull her closer.
“I bet they’re always thinking of you. Even after bangin’ some random chick, they wish it was you in their bed. They’re probably single on purpose, miserable with anyone that isn’t you. I would be. I’d never be able to settle down with anyone as long as I dream of you. I’d be happier alone than with some girl I like halfway knowing my whole heart and soul belongs to you and you alone. Ever across the entire multiverse. I’d choose you.” I press my lips to her warm cheek, then I let my mouth move over hers to kiss her properly. She tilts her head in my direction and accepts my tongue into her mouth when I tease the seam of her lips.
“Dean,” I hear older me’s voice. I pull away from her mouth and I lick my lips, staring down at her as she tries to recompose herself. Everyone is staring at us and I know they’re definitely me because they don’t even look away when I catch them.
“I’m not sorry about that,” I say smugly, “you all wanna do it anyway.” I feel her hand squeeze my thigh and I stay quiet, but so does the rest of the room. After a few minutes of silence, older me starts to talk again about a plan of action in case Lush gets out of hand. I lean forward again and I ask her one last thing, “you want them to fuck you, don’t you?”
She blushes harder somehow and she takes the cold glass of water in front of her to cool down. I don’t need her to answer verbally, her body language is enough to tell me just what she’s thinking. My brain starts to imagine ways I could fulfil her fantasy when the bearded me talks to her and asks, “did the boss tell ya what he did, then?”
He appears more thoughtful about the question he asks than like he wants to gossip. The question piques my interest and I lean towards him. He’s watching us closely, there’s no jealousy or envy, his presence is just full of love and respect like every other me has exuded since we’ve crossed paths. “‘S nothin’ we all wouldn’t do,” he defends, almost as if he thinks I’m trying to get proof that this place is too good to be true. Like a true me, he suspects I’m waiting for the shoe to drop.
“What did he do?” I asked, hoping I didn't sound urgent. The three of us lean in as subtly as we could to hear each other.
“He disintegrated his whole timeline by saving you.”
next —> the love letter collection : part two
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#dean winchester x reader#dean x female!reader#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean x reader#dean winchester#supernatural
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I think you're talking about 'Taken for Granted' by @octoberclidan
Guys! I need help finding a Dean Winchester fanfic!! There are some details I remember, but not a lot, since it's been awhile since I last read it.
I remember that the reader was living with Sam and Dean in the bunker. She had a crush on Dean. I remember Dean getting a girlfriend, that was also a hunter, but she wasn't nice towards the reader. She kept insulting her and she convinced her that the guys don't need her and that she is useless. I think at one of the hunts that the guys were to, they got deathly hurt and so she could save them, she made a deal with Crowley and sold her soul. She didn't tell them. I think she stayed in her room (but I'm not completely sure). After the guys came back from a hunt (I'm not sure if it was a different one, or the same one that they got deathly hurt in) and check on her, but they find out she died, because she sold her soul. So they make a deal with Crowley to bring her back. When she wakes up, I think Dean and her confess to each other, and Dean reveals he broke up with his girlfriend.
That Is all I remember! It's been a while since I have read it, so there might be some things that aren't correct. Also, English isn't my first language, so if there are any mistakes, I'm sorry lol. If you know the fanfic I'm talking about, please tell me the name and author of it! THANK YOU!♡♡♡
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This is so sweet, I'm crying
Imagine Dean Winchester x You
Dean writes a love letter for your birthday.
Hey there, Birthday Girl,
Well, look who's a year older and still lookin' good. I guess you're stuck with me for another year. Lucky you, huh?
I ain't much for fancy words or flowery stuff, so I'm just gonna lay it out straight. You mean the world to me. You've been there through the thick and thin, the good hunts and the really ugly ones, and let's not forget the times when we've run out of pie. You've stuck by my side, and that's not something I take lightly.
You know, I used to think I had this whole hunting thing figured out. But you showed me there's more to life than just saving people and hunting things. You've shown me what it's like to have someone who's got your back, no matter what. Someone who can make you smile even when the world's falling apart. Someone who can make a lousy motel room feel like home.
You've got this way of being strong and soft at the same time. You're tough as nails out there in the field, but when it's just the two of us, you're like a warm, comforting hug. I've seen you face down demons, monsters, and things that go bump in the night, and you do it all with this fire in your eyes that makes me proud to stand beside you.
And speaking of proud, I've watched you grow and kick some serious monster butt. You're not just a sidekick on this crazy ride. You're every bit a badass in your own right. You've saved my bacon more times than I can count, and I don't know what I'd do without you.
I know I don't say it enough, but I love you, Y/N. I love your passion for the things that matter, like the thrill of the hunt and the perfect classic rock tune on the radio. I love the way you laugh, and how you can make me laugh even when things look bleak. I love your relentless curiosity, the way you dive headfirst into research, even if it's on some obscure supernatural creature. And I love how you put up with my quirks, like my obsession with my baby (the Impala, not an actual baby), my pie addiction, and my inability to use the right grammar sometimes.
So, on this special day, I want to wish you a happy birthday, Y/N. May your year be filled with more badass hunts, plenty of classic rock, and, of course, some well-deserved kisses from me. You deserve all the good things in life, and I'm gonna do my damnedest to make sure you get 'em.
Here's to many more birthdays together, partner.
Yours forever (whether you like it or not),
Dean
#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester x you#dean x reader fluff
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Fight for Love
Dean Winchester x fem!Reader
Summary: a fight between you and Dean leads to some unintended truth slipping out, maybe that's not a bad thing
Warning: flangst, arguing, self hate, implied smut, set in season 9(spoilers)
A/N: Not proofread all mistakes are my own.
You and Dean had been screaming at each other for a good 10 minutes now. It had gotten to the point where Sam had given up trying to be the mediator and snuck away to the library, to let you fight it out in the map room.
This argument had started when you found out Dean had taken on the Mark of Cain and to make it worse, he had hidden it from you for over a week. After you saw it on his arm and started asking questions, he tried to brush you off like it wasn't a big deal. Your anger had flared, but what you wouldn't admit, was that that anger, was fueled by fear and concern for your friend.
You had been friends with the boys for years and fought by their side. It wasn't long after getting to know them, that you started to develop feelings for the older Winchester, despite your best efforts at keeping your heart in check. At this point, those feeling had developed into being hopelessly in love with him. You wouldn't say anything though; you knew your feelings were unrequited.
"Do you know how bad of an idea that was Dean, we know literally nothing about what that mark could do to you.", you yelled as he paced back and forth on the other side of the map table.
"We had no other option Y/N, what was I supposed to do?"
"We could've figured out a plan that didn't involve you getting a murderous tramp-stamp."
"Well it's too late now isn't it.", he was practically fuming now.
"Ok, then we'll get it off!", your yelling was elevated by the frustration and anxiety that was coursing through your veins.
"And why the fuck do you even care?", he yelled, leaning forward. He seemed so close to you despite still being across the table.
At his question, it was like something snapped inside you at his audacity to even ask you that. All rational thinking and control went out of your mind.
"Because I love you!", you responded, voice louder than it had been throughout your whole argument. However your screamed admission of the words you had tried so hard to keep to yourself for years, was followed by a deafening silence. All of your anger and fire drained out of you and was replaced by pure dread and regret.
You wondered for a brief moment, if you had in fact said those words aloud, but one look at Dean's face, at his shocked expression, confirmed that you had. You had just brought your walls of emotional repression crashing down around you.
You glanced to your right to see that Sam had reemerged from the library, clearly he had heard you and wanted to see how this scene would play out. Sam, being your best friend, had always encouraged you to admit your feelings to Dean, but you had always thought that was a terrible idea. There was no way someone like him could want you. You didn't deserve him anyway. All of the terrible outcomes ran through your head, Dean rejecting you, or getting mad at you and kicking you out of the Bunker and you losing your closest friends.
You were waiting for one of these possibilities to happen as you stared at the floor while Dean still stared at you in stunned silence. In reality, it had only been a few seconds, but it felt like time had stopped and you couldn't stand waiting anymore. So you ran.
"Y/N wait!", Sam called after you, but your feet were already carrying you to the garage. You grabbed your keys and got in your car as fast as you could, you wanted to be far away from this situation, somewhere you wouldn't have to face Dean. His silence made it clear he wanted nothing to do with you and you didn't think your heart could handle his rejection... or worse.
After about 20 minutes of driving, your thoughts had spiraled to the point that your hands were shaking, so you pulled off the road into a field. You got out of your car to go sit on the hood and think, try to come up with a plan on what to do next, but it was like your mind wasn't working. You hadn't even realized it, but you were crying. You just wished you could go back in time and take back those words.
_____
Dean's POV
Dean didn't break out of his trance of disbelief until he heard the garage door slam behind you. His mind couldn't wrap around the fact that you had just admitted you loved him, he thought there was no way someone like you could want someone like him.
"What the hell man!", Sam said, exasperated. "Why did you just stand there?"
"I don't know Sam!". He felt like an idiot. Why did he just stand there? Why didn't he say anything? And now you were gone. "What do I do?", he asked his brother.
"Well, it's too late to follow her, so we'll have to find her."
"How?"
The younger Winchester thought for a moment. "We can try to track her phone and hope she didn't turn it off."
_____
Your POV
You couldn't have been sitting on your hood, drowning in stress, for more than 30 minutes before you heard the distinct rumbling of the impala. You forgot to turn the location off on your phone. Your heart sunk to your stomach and you prayed to any god listening, that it was Sam in the car and not Dean. But you knew better. You knew just from the sound of his footsteps who it was.
Dean came and sat next to you in the hood of your car. You couldn't look at him, you didn't want to see the look of pity in his eyes when he saw you were crying.
"Sweetheart, please look at me", he said after a moment of silence. He placed a hand on your knee and you immediately jerked away.
"You don't need to say anything Dean, I get it." You still weren't looking at him.
"Get what?", he asked, genuinely confused at how you were reacting.
"I'm so sorry", you said, completely ignoring his question; your eyes welling with a new wave of tears.
"Whoa whoa, hey", he said softly, moving off the hood to kneel in front of you. Your hands went up to hide your face. "C'mon look me Sweetheart. Please.", he pulled your hands away from your face to hold them.
"Please don't kick me out." His heart broke at how upset you looked and the tear stains on your cheeks. He realized then, what was going through your mind; you thought he was going to reject you.
"Hey, no one's kicking you out". He gently squeezed your hands. "Look at me"
His voice sounded so gentle but you could pick up on the hint of what sounded like nervousness. You finally met his eyes.
"I love you too". Your eyes widened in disbelief at his words, but you knew how monumental Dean Winchester, saying those words to anyone, was. "I should have told you that a long time ago, but I never thought you'd feel the same."
"You love me?", you were still shocked, you wanted to cry for a whole other reason now. Relief. Happiness. Gratitude.
"Have for a long time, Sweetheart." He leaned up slowly giving you plenty of time to pull away, before planting a gentle kiss to your lips. Once your brain had caught up and he pulled away, you decided the kiss was entirely to short for your liking. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him back into a kiss, that tried to make up for all the years of waiting. Laying back on the hood of your car you pulled him to stand between you legs as he continued to kiss you.
Things were getting pretty heated before Dean pulled back to look down at you. "We don't have to take this any farther if you don't want to.", he said, eyes laced with softness and concern.
"Dean if you don't want to go any farther because you want to take things slow, that's fine with me, but if you're saying that because you're worried about me... I've been waiting for nine years, don't make me wait any longer.
A smile, that you hadn't seen in a long time, lit up his face. "Then why don't we move to the car", he motioned to the sky. It apparently had started lightly raining at some point and was about to start coming down harder.
You nodded in agreement, before taking his offered hand so you could climb off your hood. He opened the back door of the impala for you and let you get in before joining you and shutting the door. You were going to wait out the rain and try to make up for all the lost time.
_____
Laying in his arms, completely blissed out, you listened to his breathing and the rain hitting the roof of the car. You ran your hand down his arm until you got to his forearm. You stopped to run your thumb over the mark. "Does it hurt?", you asked.
"Not really. It did at first.", he took a breath before continuing. "I'm sorry, I know it was a stupid move."
"I'm sorry for yelling at you. I just worry about you."
Before he could respond, you heard his phone ring from the floorboard. You groaned, not wanting to move from his hold.
He chuckled at your annoyance. "It's probably Sam. It's been hours, we should at least let him know you didn't wind up in a ditch somewhere."
"Fine", you said with a playful eyeroll and reached down to grab his phone. You read Sam's name on the caller ID and answered it. "Hey Sammy", you greeted.
"Oh hey", he said clearly surprised to hear your voice instead of Dean's. "So I guess Dean found you."
"Yeah everything's good. We're ok."
"Ok good", he said with a hint of relief.
"We'll be home soon, I promise." You said your goodbyes to Sam, before hanging up and putting Dean's phone back in his pocket. "I guess we should head back."
He nodded with a sigh and began gathering your clothes.
Once you were both redressed, you went to reach for the door handle and head back to your car. Dean's hand on your arm stopped you.
"We'll get your car tomorrow, just ride home with me tonight.", he pleaded.
"Absolutely."
You had settled into the front seat with him and began the drive back to the bunker, when you had an idea. Rummaging through his box of cassettes you found the one you were looking for.
"What are you doing, Sweetheart?", he asked with a hint of amusement.
"Don't worry about it, you just keep driving." You smiled at him and slipped the tape into the cassette player.
Dean started to laugh as soon as he recognized what song you had played. "Did you just 'Night Moves' me ?"
You nodded and started singing along with Seger's voice with a huge smile on your face.
#dean x reader#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x you#supernatural fanfiction#spn#spn fanfiction#dean winchester#supernatural#dean x y/n#dean x you#dean winchester fic#dean winchester x female!reader#dean winchester x gn!reader
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It's giving Crowley and Aziraphale vibes
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I love this so much I don't even have words! This is beautiful, the writing is beautiful *clutches heart*
fixation (you are tragic and tragic girls are mourned)
dean x reader｜canon related (789 words)
warnings: mentions of god’s weird fixation with dean
summary: The first time he kissed you, it felt as if God had sent him down to regain your faith. I prayed for this, you told him in murmurs.
✨＼＼🌷⋱⋰ ⋱⋰🐑⋱⋰⋱⋰⋱🌼／／✨
The walls breathe. You should be used to this by now, like how you are used to the word possession being more than just the jewellery on a woman and the way a man would refer to his devoted wife. You should be used to the way these motel walls breathe, an infested ground.
Yet, here you are in the in-between.
Salt licked the heels of your soles and the walls continue to breathe.
He should be here soon.
You don’t know if it would be a bad idea.
・・・
The first time he kissed you, it felt as if God had sent him down to regain your faith. I prayed for this, you told him in murmurs. His eyes widened. The man you loved carried trails of lights inside his eyes and called them irises. You could be drunk on the hues for hours, but he was not a believer. Dean never prayed. Not in the way your family would be with devotions spoken at dinners and under Christmas lights. His laughter lines were settling in when he looked at you again:
“You should have prayed for better things.”
It’s not in any of the psalms, not even in the guides for hunters, not even a distant knowledge. Still, you understand how a person cannot convince a Nutcracker born from flames that he could be a prince. He can touch a thing with his wooden palms with all the gentleness of a star, but he can also kill a mouse with a loathing hatred that makes your body go cold, refusing to understand his steps. You love him anyway. You love him, still.
Sometimes his eyes glaze over in diners, and your heart won’t stop singing at the freckles of lights.
The green in Dean’s gaze has been made from love.
He carries the face of a boy who was loved once.
Whenever Dean is away from the world, away from being needed and never wanted for who he is, you let him sink into your body and his arms are tight around your waist. There is nothing he hasn’t explored, but he touches you anyway and creates a new godhood in his trail. He kisses. He kneads. It’s hard to tell when he’s not thinking, lips on the shell of your ears but his mind runs for ten thousand miles per hours, and you only get to have him now, in this intermediate milli minute. You are so dear to me, you think and whisper and hum into his hair. He’s always been awake during these moments, meticulously untangling himself from the aftermath.
It would be stupid to consider asking him to stay.
You have been stupid before.
Does God know you are resting on the back of a man made in His image, letting out feverish prayers you have been memorising since you were born blue and bruised, just to extend your gratefulness? Does your question reach His ears? Does He even care about your existence? You know that He does care about Dean, for only a love from celestial beings would allow this kind of tragedy to shine down on Dean’s head. Sometimes, the night terror sweat leaves a halo in his disappearance. You kiss his flesh anyway, fingers under his shirt and you say okay, you say okay as if you’re Eve trying to soothe Adam from wreck wrath upon God. You look at His toy and you fall in love all over. Does God know this too?
You hide the accommodating alcohol choices. You make the motel’s bed. You ask him to come over. You wait in the divinity gaze of everyone who can peer into this roof. The walls continue to breathe. You tell him something is wrong and you think about prayers. Your devotion has been misguided for a decade now. He would know where your loyalty lies.
・・・
A rattling knock from the ceiling.
Tiny splatters that seemingly disappear outside of your salt circle, but it’s not done by the shadows, no.
Didn’t Jessica Lee Moore die like this too, you think.
Are you the second closest match to the recreation of Mary’s tragedy?
It would have been a direct answer from the world. God has seen the way you try to rescue a dying man with your needy hands, raw fingernails that dig deep enough to create new canyons out of his flesh. There is a sense of honour in being chosen, in knowing you mean enough to him to have your lifespan eclipsed in such an ironic way.
You close your eyes and the light becomes all too consuming.
You think you can finally float.
You think you can finally face God to thank him for answering your first-ever prayer.
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Low Battery
Dean Winchester x gn!Reader
Summary: when your social battery is drained after visiting with family, you go to the one person who can fix it
Warnings: none, just comfort fluff (gender neutral but use of 'sweetheart' and 'baby')
A/N: this was mostly written for myself cause I'm hypoglycemic and get drained easily. Hope it helps people who also need a Dean recharge. Not proofread all mistakes are my own.
You were driving home after visiting your family for the first time in a while. You loved your family but sometimes they could be a bit... much, and your social battery was drained. You were so tired you had to turn the music up in the car just to stay awake enough to make the long drive back to the bunker. You were eager to get back to Dean.
It was a pretty common occurrence for your social battery to be low after spending time with people, to be honest almost everyone drained your battery. Everyone except Dean. He was one of the very, very few people who didn't drain you. In fact, in the years that you had been with him, he had become your 'recharge station'.
You walked through the doors to the quiet bunker, hanging up your keys and jacket. It was pretty late, so you knew that everyone else had probably gone to bed, but Dean was a late-night person like you, so you figured he'd still be up. Heading down the hall to you and Dean's shared bedroom, you saw the light was still on. You pushed open the door and saw him sitting at the desk, open laptop in front of him. He looked over at you leaned in the doorway.
"Hey Sweetheart", he said, giving you a soft smile that told you he was happy you were back. Even though you were only gone a day, he still missed you and always worried about you when you were away from him. That's why he had stayed up researching and waited for you to come home.
"Hey". You smiled at him and he could hear the tiredness in your voice, he could also feel the exhaustion practically rolling off you.
You walked over and wrapped your arms around him. When you were in his arms it seemed like all your problems melted away. He stood up from his chair so he could hug you back properly. "Missed you" you mumbled into his neck.
"Missed you too", he said softly, kissing the side of your head. He held you like that for a bit longer until he took your hand in his and gently guided you down the hallway. "Come on"
"Where're we going" you said with a slight pout that he thought was adorable. He knew that you wanted to curl up in bed with him and go to sleep, but he had also come to know what you needed when your social battery is drained.
"We're gonna get you some food", he knew your blood sugar was probably low and you were probably harboring a gradually worsening headache."You're gonna tell me how it went and then we're gonna go to bed" He lead you to sit at the kitchen counter while he gathered the things to make you a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a mug of tea.
You watched him work and couldn't help but smile at how attentive he always was to you. He had been with you long enough to know exactly what you needed and remembered when you told him that PB&Js were one of the best foods to eat when you need an energy boost, and that hot tea could combat headaches. Not to mention that it was also a nostalgic comfort food for you.
"Boom!", he set the plate and mug in front of you with a proud smile, like he was serving you a five star meal. "Do you want some Advil?"
"No. Thank you", you smiled. Honestly you'd take this over a five star restaurant any day. He walked around the counter to sit on the bar stool next to you while he waited for you to finish eating and listened to you tell him about your day and vent about your family.
Once you were done eating, he took your plate to the sink for you and then took your hand again to lead you back down the hallway. Your headache had subsided and you were ready to curl up in you warm bed and cuddle up to boyfriend.
Dean could tell that you were basically sleepwalking at this point so after you brushed your teeth and washed your face, he picked you up to take you back to your shared bedroom. He set you on the bed and lifted your shirt over your head to replace it with one of his shirts. You loved wearing his clothes.
After changing into comfortable clothes, he got under the covers and turned out the lights, opening his arms in invitation. You let him pull you as close as possible.
"G'night baby", he whispered placing a hand in you hair and a lingering kiss to your forehead like he was trying to banish the last bits of your headache.
"Night Dean", it was all you could get out before you felt sleep pulling you under. You didn't usually fall asleep fast, but you were tired and in the comfort of his arms you couldn't help but drift off.
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#spn fanfiction#dean x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x gn!reader#supernatural fanfiction
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Crawl Home to Her
Dean Winchester x Reader
Summary: Dean thinks back on the times he died but found his way home to kiss you
Warning: mentions of death and dying, drinking, talk of alcoholism, cursing, kissing, angst, Dean self hate, takes place in season 10 so spoilers.
A/N: This is inspired by Work Song by Hozier and written in Dean's POV with lyrics acting as Dean's thoughts, lyrics in italics. NOT PROOFREAD ALL MISTAKES ARE MY OWN
I don't want to get out of bed. I couldn't have woken up more than three minutes ago, but I'm so tired. Though that's been a pretty consistent occurrence for most of my life. I'd have a hard time remembering the last time I woke up feeling rested, and to make it worse, these past few months- few years, have been grueling. Hell, in the past few months I inherited the Mark of Cain, died and came back as a demon; I don't know how much more I can take. I want this to be over, but it's not, it's never over. The Mark still on my arm is a reminder of that. I'm glad I have Y/N, I don't think I could go through all of this alone. She's still with me even after everything. She makes it all worth it.
Boys workin' on empty
Is that the kinda way to face the burning heat?
I just think about my baby
I'm so full of love I could barely eat
As if she could hear me thinking about her she emerged through our bedroom door with a smile that always seems to melt away my worries and two mugs of coffee in hand. That explains why she wasn't lying next to me when I woke up. I release the breath I've been unconsciously holding since waking to find her not beside me. "Good morning my love" she says softly, handing me one of the mugs and sitting next to me on the bed. "Mornin' sweetheart". She cups my face and kisses me, soft and sweet. I kiss her back, with a wanting for something I don't deserve.
There's nothing sweeter than my baby
I'd never want once front he cherry tree
'Cause my baby's sweet as can be.
She give me toothaches just from kissin' me
It's still hard believing that all this is real. I was supposed to be dead. I did die. Yet here I am, waking up another morning, another morning with her. I remember hearing her when I was fading from the stab wound. I heard her begging me to stay with her and it made me fight. Evidently I wasn't strong enough to win the initial struggle against death, but I made it out alive and came home to her. Despite how ugly the road back was.
When my time comes around
Lay me gently in the cold dark earth
No grave can hold my body down
I'll crawl home to her
I think back to before we were together, back to when I came back after getting dragged to Hell. I wanted to shut everyone out, even her, and bury myself in a new grave of alcohol and guilt. Sam and Bobby had tried to get me to open up, tried to get me to talk about the literal Hell I had been through, Y/N never did. She somehow always knew when to push and when I needed to be left alone. So many nights I stayed awake, unable to sleep through the waves of guilt. Guilt over what I did in Hell, what I put Sam, Y/N and Bobby through, guilt for leaving them. My mind was so loud these nights, I drank until I blacked out. It was after one of these nights that I had woken up with a killer hangover in the bedroom that she usually slept in at Bobby's. Incomplete glimpses from the night before flashed through my head. Remembering how Y/N had found me in my drunken stupor and hauled me up from my seat at the kitchen table. How she managed to get me up the stairs and into bed by herself is beyond me, but I've learned over the years of knowing her, to not underestimate what she's capable of.
Boys, when my baby found me
I was three days on a drunken sin
I woke with her walls around me
Nothin' in her room but an empty crib
I had drug myself out of bed and wandered downstairs, unconsciously searching for her. I found her curled up asleep on the worn out sofa in the library. A new wave of guilt washed over me. I hadn't even pulled my head out of my ass long enough to ask her how she was, and now she had gone out of her way, given up her bed, so I could be comfortable. I didn't deserve her. That's why I kept my feelings for her to myself for so many years. I moved past her to the kitchen quietly, as to not wake her. I wanted to have a pot of coffee ready for her when she woke up, it was the least I could do. I was going to bring her a cup but she heard me moving around in the kitchen before the pot was even done brewing. "Hey" I saw her rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, her hair disheveled. My heart swelled at how cute I thought she was when she was like this, though I would never tell her that. Not only because I thought it might ruin our friendship, but also because she would probably stab me for calling her cute. "Hey" she responded, voice still thick with sleep. "You want a cup of coffee? ", I asked as I poured a cup for her, already knowing what her answer would be. "Please", she said with a tired smile. That morning over coffee I had told her some of what I went through in Hell, that I had broken and tortured souls. She listened, without judgment, without fear and without asking questions I didn't feel like answering at the moment. The fact the she didn't push me made me comfortable to tell her everything.
And I was burnin' up a fever
I didn't care much how long I live
But I swear I thought I dreamed her
She never asked me once about the wrong I did
And now almost 6 years later, I'm still doing the same thing. I put her through all that again. I made a stupid decision that got me dead but I made it back, only to try and shut her out. But now that we're together I know she's not going to let me do that and I'm too tired and I love her too much to fight her, even though everything in me is telling me to stay away from her. I don't know how she can even look at me let alone still be with me. I tried to kill her and Sam when I was a demon and there's more terrible things I did that she doesn't even know about, though I'm pretty sure she knows and isn't telling me. After her and Sam cured me, I tried to keep her at arms distance, tried to tell her the list of reasons why she shouldn't want me anymore. How could anyone forgive me after everything I did. But she took me into her arms and kept telling me it wasn't really me, that her and Sam still love me and all that matters is that she has me back.
My baby never fret none
About what my hands and my body done
If the Lord dont forgive me
I'd still have my baby and my babe would have me
She spent all of last night kissing away my pain. I want to take away her pain too. I set my coffee on the nightstand and reach over to take her cup too, setting it beside mine. "What'cha doin'" she looked confused until I turned back, grabbing her and pulling her to lay with me. "Fixing it", I whispered, knowing it wasn't an answer that made sense, but I was going to kiss her until it fixed her broken heart. I moved to hover over her and just looked at her, holding her face in my hands. Even in the low light of the early morning, she's still breathtakingly gorgeous. She pulls me down to kiss her and I get the feeling she knows what I'm trying to do. I pour everything I'm feeling into kissing her, how sorry I am for leaving her, for all the heartache it caused her. I don't think I'll ever erase from my mind, the sound of her crying as I was dying. The memory has me blinking back tears. I turn to hide my face in her neck and trail kisses along her shoulder. Her arms wrap around my back and I can't help but melt into her, breathing in the scent of her perfume. The weight is off my shoulders for once, I can breathe easier, and nothing matters outside of us.
When I was kissing on my baby
And she put her love down soft and sweet
In the low lamplight I was free
Heaven and Hell were words to me
When my time come around
It's moments like these that make me fight so hard. Fight to be better, do better. Fight for her and fight to stay with her. I roll over onto my back, pulling her with me to lay her head on my chest. "I promise that no matter what happens I'll alway find a way back to you". It was a promise I was making to myself as much as it was to her, and I intended to keep it.
When my time comes around
Lay me gently in the cold dark earth
No grave can hold my body down
I'll crawl home to her
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester#dean winchester fanfiction#supernatural#supernatural fanfiction#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#supernatural fanfic#dean winchester fanfic#dean winchester fic#dean winchester fluff#dean x reader#spn#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#dean x you#dean x y/n
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4th of July
Dean x reader
Warning: drinking, implied smut
Summary: 4th of july campfire gets a get a little steamy after everyone goes to bed
A/N: This is the first drabble I've written and posted, so I'm sorry for the writing and Dean's terrible joke. Not proofread.
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You had proposed the idea earlier of having a campfire this 4th of July, just be able to sit back and relax in the brief time between hunts. The boys immediately went along with your idea, Sam going to build a fire near the door to the bunker while Dean cooked up his famously delicious burgers.
Sam had invited Eileen and Cas had even popped in for a bit. It turned out to be a great night of drinking, talking, good food, and setting off sparklers that you had found in a drawer.
After a few hours (and a few drinks) Sam and Eileen decided to call it a night and said their 'goodnights' to you and Dean before going into the bunker.
"Last ones standing", Dean said, tipping his beer bottle towards you. "Barely standing" you giggled, clinking your bottle against his.
Ever since you and Dean started dating you usually ended up being the last ones awake. You were more late night kind of people than Sam, it was one of the things that brought you and Dean closer.
Sometimes those late nights turned into talking and drinking, and sometimes talking and drinking turned into more X-rated fun. Judging by how tipsy you were and how good he looked in the fire light sipping his beer, you knew that was probably how tonight was going to end up.
After talking a while you got up to tend to the now dying fire and throw some more logs on it. When you bent over to stoke the fire, Dean smacked your ass, igniting the fire inside you. You weren't trying to tease him. You chuckled and looked over your shoulder, he had a very relaxed smirk on his face. "Enjoying the show?", you asked bending over further and pressing closer to him. Now you were trying to tease him. He nodded, biting his lip in appreciation.
He never failed to make you feel sexy and loved, you had more confidence with him than you had ever had in you life. And right now that confidence, the alcohol, and his gaze on your tank top and short-shorts clad body, was making you want to do sinful things.
You dropped the stick you were using to poke the fire and reached over to grap you phone to turn up the music that had been playing in the background. You set down your phone and started swaying your hips to the beat of the music. You're going to put on a show for him alright.
Your back was still turned to him, but you could hear the slight moan that reverberated in his chest at your actions. He gently ran his palms up the back of your thighs, not being able to resist touching you. At this point you were almost grinding down onto his lap, pulling out every trick you knew in the 'lap-dance handbook'.
After you felt you had teased him, and yourself, enough you turned around and moved to straddle his lap. You could see, even in the dim light from the fire, that his pupils were clouded with lust. His hands moved to your hips, holding your slightly intoxicated body steady on his lap. You smiled, leaning down to kiss him. He hummed into your mouth and kissed you back with the same passion and desire you felt within you.
His hands smoothed up and down your arms, palms warm against your skin that had cooled in the night air. "You're so gorgeous", he said, fingers moving from your arms to tangle in your hair and gently pull your head back, trailing kisses down your neck.
"And you're frustratingly handsome" you said, lost in the feel of his lips. You felt him release a breathy chuckle against your neck. When you ground your hips onto his crotch, you had to bury your face in his neck to conceal your moans. Not that anyone could hear you, the bunker was miles from any people.
He turned his head to whisper in your ear. "How 'bout I take you inside and see how long before I can get you seeing fireworks".
#dean x reader#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester fanfic#supernatural fanfiction#supernatural fanfic#dean winchester#supernatural#spn#spn fic#supernatural fic#spn fanfiction#spn fanfic#dean winchester smut
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Why is there not an incognito listening option on Spotify? like I know this music is shit I don't want this in my recommended music, this is just a low moment for me lol
#i hit rock bottom#im listening to pop#i never listen to pop#what is wrong with me#spotify#music#rock music#metal#metal music#metal head#metalhead
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'Best Worst Day Ever' by @hintsofhoney is one of my favorites
@supernatural-jackles is one of my favorite writers so here's their comfort fic masterlist:
'Once Upon a Time' and 'All Better Now' are my recommendations
My grandfather passed away today, I’d appreciate any of your favorite comfort fics sent my way. ❤️
#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester comfort#supernatural comfort#supernatural comfort fics#supernatural#comfort fics
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