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#Dean Winchester Fan Fiction
Just Breathe- Series
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Good evening everyone! here is the second chapter in the Just Breathe Series. This series was inspired/prompted by the ask that was submitted by @deans-spinster-witch to read the first chapter click here for the original post. @deans-spinster-witch was gracious enough to lend her skills in ruffing out a few of the mishaps in chapter one, and I will post that updated version at some point and link it, and did the same for this second chapter. 
Here is the original ask for a refresher.
Ask from @deans-spinster-witch:
Tell me about Dean falling in love with a girl who has long covid - maybe they met when he saved her from a monster and they became friends, she occasionally helps him with research or patches him up if he gets hurt.  He doesn’t hear from her for a while, and when he goes to check on her, he finds out she’s in the hospital with Covid - a monster he can’t save her from.  He realizes he loves her, but may lose her.  After she gets out he keeps coming to check on her because he knows she tires easily/has trouble breathing at times.
This second chapter is going to start with a bit of time jump, but don’t worry we got flashback a plenty to fill in the gaps. Multi POV between the main character, Y/N, and Dean Winchester, mentions of Sam Winchester. This is angst, sweet/fluffy, swearing, implied sexy times. Oh and word count is at 7,250-ish, sorry but not sorry. 
Sadly the Winchesters are not mine, but the story is so please don’t steal and post as your own. But likes, reblog, and comments are always welcome. As always any mistakes like grammar, spelling, function is also all mine, so be kind when pointing it out, I do my best. 
I would like to know if you like this chapter would you want to see a third chapter? or maybe a prequel to answer any questions you might have regarding Y/N and Dean? Let me know. 
Thank you again for reading, and you would like to send me a prompted or story idea, send it my way. 
Happy Reading
Time Jump to 4 months ahead. 
Y/N POV
Shit, Shit, Shit! Where the hell are my keys! You yell out in frustration as you move frantically around your house, looking for the one thing that you need to get to your appointment on time. Tossing the pillows from the couch, goddamn it! You were never like this, ever since COVID, your short term memory has been foggy to put it nicely. Resorting to keeping both a paper list and digital one on your phone, is your new normal. Walking into a room to do something, and instantly forgetting what you came for. Case in point, not remembering where you put your goddamn keys! 
You hate running late, you pride yourself on always being early to things, and this appointment was an important one. Walking into the kitchen, you start to look in the not so obvious places. Opening up the fridge, nope not in there. Pull open the freezer next, yep there they are, right next to the pint of mint chip ice cream that you just had to have yesterday at like 11 pm. Only to then be disappointed that you now can’t stand the taste of your once favorite ice cream, fuck you COVID! 
Ugh, seriously, you are going to be the death of me, you think. Grabbing your keys, you push the freezer door closed, and head off to the hospital for your fourth month CT scan. Locking the door behind you, the crisp air of fall hits you. God how you don’t want winter to come any sooner then it has too. Winters in Michigan can be brutal, especially on the coast line. Pulling your light jacket close to you, you quicken your pace and get into your jeep to start up the car quickly, and pull out of the driveway. Not noticing the very familiar black impala parked about three houses down. 
****
You make it with time to spare, as you wait in the waiting room after checking in, you try your best to calm yourself. Fiddling with your phone, you find that scrolling through Instagram is getting you nowhere and your emails have been radio silent for months now. Exhausted, you put your phone away, you look around the room. For mid morning it's not too busy, the daytime talkshow mixes in with the white noise of the hospital. It's so beige, beige carpet, walls, even the uncomfortable furniture is beige. It makes sense, given it's a hospital; money should be spent on actual patient care, not on the latest interior furnishings., But still, at least get some interesting artwork. Looking to the piece across from you: an abstract painting of paint strokes in grays, blues, and you guessed  it, beige.
“Ms. Moore?” The nurse's voice pulls you from your thoughts, and you look up to see her standing at the entryway in blue scrubs, dark brown hair pulled back, with a kind smile. 
“Yep” you reply to her, but you're sure she would have guessed that was you, as your head snapped at attention when your name was called. “Hi”, giving her a smile as you walk towards her.
“Hi,” she replies, “can you tell me your last name and date of birth?” She starts walking down the hallway, looking at your chart, the path was second nature for her. You rattle off your last name and birthday for her, then she stops just off from an open doorway, “right in here.” Letting you walk in first.
She takes a seat at a desk, swiping her badge to start keying in some information. “So, here for your four month CT scan.” she states, but it also feels like a question.
“Umm, yeah, it's my second one.” You reply, still getting used to coming to the doctor more than twice a year. You only ever went if you were feeling really sick. 
“Looks like the first one was clean, but we like to do a few in close succession when someone has had a severe case of covid.” she explains, her eyes are kind, and reassuring, “I am sure this one will be just as good, and then hopefully the doctor will schedule them farther apart.”
She must see the worry on your face. Not sure how to respond, you just nod your head. She takes your vitals, asks if anything else has changed since your last visit, and if there were any other concerns you wanted to discuss today. “No, I don’t think so.” 
Typing a few more things in the computer, and then swapping her badge again to lock the computer. “I am surprised your brother is not here with you today.” 
“What?” You're taken aback by this, brother, does she mean Dean? How would she know about him? Was it in your chart? You don’t remember adding him as your emergency contact.
She can tell you are put off by this. “Sorry, I should have re-introduced myself. I was your nurse when you were in here with covid.”
“Oh, yeah, sorry, I should have…”
“No, it's fine. Honestly, I wouldn’t expect you to remember me.”
Thinking back to that time, she does seem familiar now, “well it's nice to see you again…” struggling to remember her name quickly, but not inconspicuously looking at her badge, “Bridget.” This gets a laugh out of her, and you do the same. “I was happy to see your name on the schedule today, and I thought you were the one with the very cute, and very attentive brother. That's why I am surprised he is not here.”
Ah yes, Dean, not being here. That is a long, long story that you're sure she does not want, nor has the time to hear right now. You give her a forceful smile, “Yeah, Dean, he has something today, so just me.”
Her smart watch goes off, and she looks at the time, “well we should get you down to CT. After your scan, we will come back here and the doctor will be with you to go over the results.” She gets up, and you follow. 
****
The wait feels like forever, and in the small exam room with nothing to look at but an exam table -and beige walls - you were lost in your head. Worrying about what if they found something, what if you developed lesions, or anything that could compromise your health. God, how you wish Dean was here, or even Sam. Someone to hold your hand and distract you from the impending doom and dark thoughts that were creeping in. Dean would distract you with lame jokes, or stories about how Sammy was terrified of doctors. He would get you to smile anyway he could, probably go so far and raid the supplies of tongue depressors and cotton balls, saying something like “they don’t need all of them, do they?”
“Ms. Moore, how are we today?” The doctor's voice breaks up your fleeting thoughts of Dean, as if he was right there, but as soon as the man in the white coat opens the door and steps through, Dean disappears. 
“Umm, good, at least I hope so.” You reply, wanting to keep the pleasantries short, let get to the point so you can get out of here. 
He takes a look over the file, and then pulls up the scans on the computer. He seems to be taking forever, did he not look at them beforehand! Come on man just tell me already! “Everything looks good, I am not seeing any growth of lesions or scar tissue from the tube.”
Relife floods your body, letting out a sight, “oh that great news, so I am done with coming in?” you hope so, wanting to never see this place again, at least for a while. 
He turns to face you, his dark brown eyes are kind, but you can tell right away he is not going to give you the answer you want. “Not yet, but we can push them to every six months.”
Okay, twice a year, I guess that is a compromise you can take, “okay, so I will see you in the spring.” Starting to get up to leave, but he stops you.
“In two months, we can start doing six month visits. I want to see you again one more time in two months. If that scan is clean then we push them to six month visits.” He explains. 
You sit back down in defeat, you're going to be back here in two months, really! You know you can’t take your frustration out on him, he is just looking out for your health and doesn’t want to miss anything. “Okay.” Slightly defeated, wanting nothing more than to curl up on the couch, and sleep for the next two months away. 
Giving your hands a reassuring pat, “two months will fly by I promise. Is there anything else you want to discuss today? Still having some memory issues?”
You know that you should be honest with him, that you think you have gotten worse since Dean left, but honestly are you sure? He did so much for you in that short time, maybe, you were like this before, and he just didn’t point it out. Plus you just wanted to go home, what really could he do anyways? “Nothing new on that. I think I just need to get back to my normal routine and I will be fine.” 
Getting up from his chair, “Sounds good. I will send Bridget back in, she will get you set up for your next appointment. We will see you in two months. Have a good day.” shutting the door behind him. You're back alone in that quiet room.
Alone, you're alone, once again. You can feel the panic start to creep in. Alone, and even though the scan was good, he still wants you to come back. Alone, no one to hold your hand, no one to make stupid jokes. You did this to yourself, you know that, he would have stayed, you pushed him…
“Alright, Doctor says two months humm.” Bridget's voice breaks through. It's light and airy. Trying to make the situation as pleasant as possible. As soon as she sits down, she can tell you're not alright, “Hey, what's wrong?” She asks, setting down the chart, and focusing on you.
Feeling a tear run down your cheek, fuck why are you crying.  “Umm…it's nothing….yeah two months…” You take a ragged breath, pushing all your emotions down, down, down, to the deepest part of your soul where they should always live. You can cry when you get home. Suck it up for two more minutes!
“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on.” She is not letting you wash this away, she grabs the tissue box, and holds it out for you to pull a couple out of the box. “Your scan was clean, the doctor is just being cautious that's all.” 
“I know it's just…I really wish he was here….”
“Dean,” she replies, filling in the blanks. You nod at this, and wipe your eyes and face. “I am sure if you talk to him, he will come to the next appointment.”
Oh if she only knew, but you couldn’t lay this all out on a complete stranger. Again she just wants to do her job, and move on to the next patient, you're taking up too much of her time. “I am sure you're right.” Taking a few ragged breaths. 
She gives you a reassuring smile, and turns to the computer to book your appointment, reminding you that you can always change it to accommodate if Dean can’t make it this time. “I could tell he really cares for you. Even in the short time I saw him, he wouldn’t leave your side for anything. Practically had to kick him out every night when visiting hours were over.” Trying to make the situation light, and hopefully get a smile back on your face. 
Giving her a short laugh, “yeah that sounds like Dean.” You can see it, him waiting until the last possible second. A security guard to escort him out.
Both of you get up, and she walks you to the door, and down the hall towards the exit. Seeing you coming back around, she decides to let you in on a little secret. Stopping you before opening up the door to the waiting room she leans in slightly. “Just between you and me, I knew he wasn’t your brother.”
“What….I mean…no he is….” You stammer out, hoping that she wasn’t going to bust you for…something, you're not sure? But still not wanting to get into trouble.
“Don’t worry dear, it's fine.” She quickly replies, trying to calm your fears. 
You let out a sigh of relief, “How did you know?”
“Two things. One he just pulled on my heartstrings so much that I figured what would be the harm in him sticking around, even if he wasn’t related. Plus, if I was ever lucky enough to have a guy look at me the way he did to you, I would want him to be by my side every second.”
Her smile is contagious, and although you're still doubting that what you feel for Dean would ever be reciprocated, now is not the time to hash it out with her. “What was the second?”
“I may have heard him one night on the phone with someone, saying he couldn’t lose you, that he needed to tell you that he was in love with you.'' She says matter of factly, pushing the door open and waiting for you to walk through. 
*******
Dean POV
He watches as she pulls into the driveway and shuts off the car. He had followed her from a safe distance from the hospital to the store, and then back to her house. She didn’t notice once, even though he had taught her in the past how to spot a tail. Did she get bad news? Maybe it's the COVID that is affecting her hunter instincts? Fuck, if thats the case, what else could she be missing? Is it stupid and desperate of him to be following her, and watching from a distance? Maybe, but also not, if she is not noticing simple things like him following her. What if  Lucifer, or one of his henchmen, came after her? Anxiety just thinking of irrational attacks on you causes his chest to tighten as he pulls back into the parking spot a few houses down.
He should be a man and go up to you, talk to you, and see you face to face. He missed you, your smile, your laugh - fuck, everything about you. He knows he screwed up. As soon as he did what he did, he wished he could have taken it back, but the damage was done. He kept saying it was for the best, that you would forgive him, and move on. But you can’t forgive him unless he stops being a little stalker and owns up to what he did.
Flashback to the night of the big blowup. Dean POV
Standing there, staring down the closed door, you wish right now you had superpowers to see through the door and see if she’s alright. Hell, you don’t need to be a superhero to know she’s not. You're just wondering what brought this on. “Y/N, come on, talk to me” you plead, softly knocking on the door. “I am sorry…I don’t mean to…” your rambling stops when you hear soft sobs from the otherside of the door. 
“Just go away Dean!” She yells between sobs. “I can’t breathe with you here… I can’t…”
You grab the door knob, fear and pressure weighing down on you to get to her, to hold her.  Most importantly, to make her understand that your overbearing protectiveness is coming from a place of needing to be in control, that you care for her, and need to protect her “Y/N, please just open the door, let's talk? I promise I will ease up, I can do better.”
You can hear her give a small laugh at that, you're about to question her on this when your phone goes off. Screw it, let it go to voicemail, she is more important than anything else. “I am not giving up on you, on us. You have to come out eventually.” 
Your phone stops ringing for a second and then starts back up again. What the Hell? “You should answer that, Dean.” She states without hesitation, but  with an undertone of sadness. 
Letting out a sigh, you turn around. “Fine if you want to talk via phone, fine.” Walking away from her door into the living room, you pick up your phone from the coffee table. To your surprise it's not her name across the screen, but Sam’s. “What?” you bark out in frustration, not really wanting to talk with him right now. 
“Dean, back off.” Sam says matter of factly. No pleasantries, just straight to the point. 
“She called you? Why?” Confused as to why she is including Sam on this.
“She just needs some space, Dean, I think it's time you come back. Jody called and…” Sam calmly says, trying his best to diffuse the situation from the other side of the country. 
“No, Sam, I am not leaving her! I can’t lose her again, I won’t… I love her, man…”
Your back is to the hallway, so you don’t notice Y/N standing there, listening, hearing  what you should be confessing to her and not your brother. You don’t see her wondering why can’t you just say what you feel? Why can’t you just let down your guard with her and tell her?
*****
The slamming of a trunk pulls Dean back to the present, and he looks up to see you carrying an arm load of groceries. Of course you would do it in one trip. He shakes his head, remembering that you never like to take more than one trip from the car to the house. Your logic always being, as you told him, I am a single girl, I can do it in one go. He watched as you held the screen door open with your butt, as you switched all the bags to one arm so you could open the door with the other. Looking away once you're inside, Dean notices it’s about 20 minutes since you pulled in the driveway. Had you been sitting there this whole time? You have only gone to the hospital and store, but still your energy must not be back to what it used to be. 
Maybe he should check, make sure you're doing okay. Look in the window really quick. Getting out of the car and walking the short distance, he looks over to your car to see that you still had some toilet paper and paper towels in the back seat. Knowing that you would be back, he decides to help you out. Opening up the door as quietly as possible he grabs the items, and takes them up to the door. Putting them in between the screen door and main door, he turns around to leave.
His eyes look in the kitchen window, to see you putting away your items. Your back is to him, so you don’t notice. You seem lost in your own world, on auto pilot putting things away. Dean takes a moment to appreciate that he can see you up close. His eyes scan the room, noticing the post-it notes all over. He never remembers you having so many of them before. He can’t read what they say, but they are everywhere; on the cabinets, counter tops, table, Was your memory getting worse? 
Panic, and anger - at himself more than anything -  sets in.
*******
Y/N POV
“I love her Sam, I am in love with her…I can’t…no I won’t lose her, I need to tell her how I feel…”
“You don’t love me, Winchester” your voice stops Dean from rambling on the lies that you know, in the end, he doesn’t mean.
Dean turns to see you standing there, your eyes red from crying. But you're not crying now; no, now you  look  pissed, like you want to kick some ass - and Dean’s is the closest one. “Got to go Sam.” Dean quickly says, ending the call. “What do you mean I don’t love you. Of course I do, I….”
You hold up a hand, and stop Dean from saying anything more. “No, you don’t. People like me, we don’t have sexy knights to save us. To fall in love with us, to whisk us away, and want to play house with.” Determine to get this all out, to get your point across and make him accept reality. 
“We are your best friend, the girl you call on Friday nights when your date falls through, or you strike out with the bartender. We are your ‘wing woman’, we pick you up, dust you off, and send you back out into the world. We build your confidence up, while we sit on the sidelines alone.”
“Y/N that's not true…” Dean starts to protest.
“Let me finish, I have to get this out.” taking a breath, you can see he’s hurt, that he wants to argue, to explain his side. “Yes, you care for me, but you don’t love me, and you're not In love with me. You're in love with this idea of a life outside of hunting, you love the idea of playing house.” Closing the gap between you, even though you know better than to get  this close to him. You're playing with fire, but you're desperate to feel him. 
“You're right, I am in love with the idea of an apple pie life. But I want that life with you, no one else.” Dean interjects before you can shut him down, shut down what is going on between you two before it can even start. 
Taking a chance, he grabs your hand and brings it up to his chest and places it over his heart. “Can’t you feel my heart? It’s racing for you. It always has, it always will.”
 Feeling the softness of the white t-shirt between your fingers, you take a breath and inhale the smell of him. “Sooner or later we both know this won’t be enough, that I won’t be enough.” You talk to his chest, not wanting or able to look him in the eye, your voice low and shaky. “You're going to leave me, sideline me, and only blow through town when you need something.”
“That's not true! You have always wanted your own life. I always wanted to protect you as much as I could. The things that Sam and I deal with, the people and monsters we hunt, if anything ever happens…you are a vulnerability that they will exploit. I know it.” 
“Maybe. Even more reason why you have to go…and never come back…” Glancing up to see the gut punch you just delivered written on his face. You try to take a step back.
Dean won’t let you go, bringing a hand around your waist, holding you. “What?! No! I won’t cut you out of my life. I now know I was stupid for ever doing that. For letting you live alone, or at the very least, not in the same state as the bunker.” He practically commands, with no hesitation. How could you think he would ever agree to this?   
“Y/N, I need you in my life. You can’t deny that there is something between us.” His words are sweet, his voice is low as he leans into you. His breath fans over your face, as his hands caress your cheek. “Please, I need you.” 
His lips are so close to yours, that if you lean ever so slightly, you would finally know how soft his lips are. Would they fulfill your fantasies? God, maybe you should live in this fantasy for as long as you can, screw being logical. Let it be a future Y/N problem, present Y/N wants to know what it's like to be wanted by Dean Winchester. “I…Dean…”
*******
 Y/N and Dean POV 
“Dean, what are you doing here?” Your voice pulls him from the memory of that night, and he looks to see you standing at the door, one hand holding open the screen door. 
Oh fuck, well, this wasn’t the plan at all. Giving her a smile, “Hey Y/N, I was in the neighborhood…thought I would…”
“So you're stalking me now?”
“Hehe, no, I said I was in the neighborhood, wanted to see how you are…you look good.” He says, letting his eyes look at you. You did look good, but tired, your eyes didn’t shine like they normally did before; the spark, the hint of twinkle is gone.
“Liar, I look like shit, but thanks.” You quip, knowing that you don’t look good at all. Wearing a ratty hoodie and jeans, you opted for comfort over trying to impress anyone. “Well, thanks for stopping by.” You say, giving him a fake smile and turning to walk back in the house. 
“Umm…Y/N, I could, I mean Sam could use your help with something, he knew I was going to be passing through and wanted me to stop by and ask for some help.” Quickly thinking on his feet, he creates an excuse. He didn’t want to leave yet, this is the most he has talked to you since that night. He would be damned if he was going to let you leave so soon. 
You turn back to look at Dean, trying to gauge if he was telling the truth or not. Sam had your number, and you were still speaking to the younger Winchester - he didn’t break your heart and live up to everything you knew would happen. “Why didn’t he call me?” You question, wanting to make Dean work for it. He wasn’t getting in that easy!
He takes a few steps towards you, “well, like I said, he knew I was in the area.” One step lower from you, his green eyes lock with yours, silently pleading with you to let him in. “He wanted me to pick up a lore book on Pixies, and said you had a copy that we don't have in the library.”
“Fine, come in. I will go grab it.” You reply, turning away from him, letting him catch the door before it slams in his face. 
Dean shucks off his jacket and boots, and looks around while you go back to find the book. He can now see the post-its in detail, reminding you where your keys, jacket, bag should be put. Making his way to the kitchen, cabinets are labeled with what should be in them: dry food, dishes, silverware. Daily schedule on the fridge. “Having fun snooping?” Your sarcastic tone has him turning on his heels to see you standing in the doorway with a book in hand. 
“Umm…sorry…” he says sheepishly, hating  that he got caught. He can see you're not amused, and he is really going to have to lay on the charm to win you back. 
“Yeah, well at least I am keeping the post-it company in business. Here is the book.” You say handing it to him.
Dean takes it, and looks at it, giving it a nod, “Thanks, yep this is it.” 
“Okay, well, you better get going, since Sam is in ‘desperate’ need of it and all.” Your voice is flat, not in the mood to deal with him. “You know where the door is.” You add, just turning that knife even deeper. 
“Look, Y/N can we talk?” Dean can tell you're not your usual self, and he really wants to get you back.
“Oh now you want to talk? You sure as hell didn’t want to talk for four months. Didn’t want to talk when you woke up the next morning regretting that kiss, regretting what we said to each other, the promises you made.” You snap at him, the frustration building in you. Why does it always have to be on his time? God you were just getting over him, right?
“I know. I was a jerk, it was a dick move, and I am sorry.”
“You're sorry, really?That's all you have to say?” Turning away from him, just looking at him and his sad puppy dog face, you want to smack him. Fuck, you want to hit yourself for being an idiot that night. 
******
“Dean…please…I…” You have to keep strong, tell him to go, you know this won’t end well.
“Please Y/N, You're the only good thing I have in this world, I can’t lose you.” Not waiting for a reply, his lips find yours. 
They're soft, perfect, molded to fit yours, and gentle, Dean doesn’t force his way. Pulling away, when your lungs start to burn,you lock eyes with him. Lust blown, his lips slightly pink. No words are exchanged, you silently say everything you need to him at that moment, and he seems to understand. Bringing his hands to cup your face, he goes back in to kiss you more, letting his tongue swipe across your lips. You allow his tongue to dance with yours. 
Fumbling your way to the couch, Dean falls back first, and you do your best not to land on top of him completely, giggling at the state you're both in. Dean looks up at you, tucking a few strands of hair behind your ear, and looking up at you lovingly, “God, I love that laugh of yours.” He says, pulling you down on him. Letting you feel what you're doing to him. 
“Dean, I have to be crushing you.” You protest, trying your best but failing at getting out of the vice grip Dean has on your hips. 
“Nope, You're staying right here.” He says, as he starts to pepper kisses down your neck. 
******
“Dean, I begged you to leave! I knew you never wanted me! And yet like an idiot, I fell for your charm and under your spell.” You grit out, turning on your heels and walking away from him. Fuck, you can’t keep doing this! 
“I did ... .I do ...Y/N look at me” Dean pleads, setting the book down he follows you to the living room, grabbing your hand. “Please, let me explain.”
Turning around, you pull your hand back. His touch, like fire, like touching a hot pan. “You know, I thought for a split second you were telling me the truth. That you wanted me like I have always wanted you.” Pain radiates through you, your voice seems to be stuck behind a lump forming in your throat. God, you want to smack him, but at the same time, kiss him.
Dean’s speechless, trying to work out how best to tell you what he was thinking in that split second when he woke up in your arms that day. For one second he felt total bliss, that everything was falling into place; then reality of his life came back into focus.
“I know, it wasn’t my finest hour.”
You laugh at this, you think!? “What is there to explain? We kissed, had a pretty good makeout, groped each other over and under our clothes, but then we both agreed to take it slow. Right?” You ask for confirmation, even though you remember it all too well.
“Yes, but, Y/N, if you just let me…” Dean stumbles to explain.
“But then, I wake up the next morning alone on the couch with a note that says, ‘Hey, Y/N, Sorry, Sammy needs me, will check in soon.’”
The space between you two is nonexistent. You're trying to find anything in those green eyes of his that will refute anything you just said. Anything to explain that you're overreacting, but there is nothing. He has no rebuttal, because it's all true. He walked out on you, like his father did to him and Sam all the time. The worst part was, Dean had Sam to lean on; you were left with no one.
“Like I said, not my finest hour…” he mumbles out.
“Not your goddamn finest hour?ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME!” you yell, slamming your fists into his chest and pushing him away.  It does nothing to move him, and takes all your energy out of you. You stumble a bit, then lean back and sit on the arm of the couch.
“Hey, Y/N, please, calm down.'' His voice is heavy with concern, and he tries to help you up so you can sit on the couch.
“Don’t…touch…me…” You cough out. Needing water, you look to find your water bottle is nowhere. “Fuck….I…” You keep coughing, and try to get up.
“Water?” Dean questions. You nod, and try to get back up. “No, sit, I will go get it.” He tells you and quickly goes to the kitchen, and is back with a glass of water in seconds.
You down about half, the cool water helps calm you and your coughing fits. “Thanks” you mumble, not wanting to give him the satisfaction that he ‘saved you again.’ You don’t look at him as you sit down the glass and avoid him at all costs.
Dean takes this as his opportunity to tell you his side. Sitting on the coffee table so he has direct eye contact with you, he reaches for your hand. “Please, Y/N, I am truly sorry. I know I was a jerk for leaving you like that, and for never calling or coming back.”
You stare him down, not  giving him an out on this one. “Go on. You will hear no objection from me on this one.” You reply.
Dean lets out a small sigh that clearly said fuck, alright here we go. “I was fucking scared, okay? I woke up, saw you in my arms, and for a split second I felt like I was home. My first thought was, this is perfection. No monster, no running the roads, crappy dinner food, and sketchy motels.” 
He leans towards you, putting a hand on your knee, and lightly runs his hands up and gives you a knowing smile. “The perfect, sexy, beautiful, girl in my arms, that I can’t wait to wake up and…”
You stop his hand from getting too close to what both you and him want to touch. “Not so fast  Winchester.” Knowing if he keeps going, you are definitely going to end up in a very compromising position. “No, I bet your first thought was, oh fuck what the hell did I do, and how the hell do I get out of it.”
“No, will you let me talk?. God, I see COVID can take your memory, but not your self-hatred or inability to butt in.” 
You hold your hands up in a fake defense, “Please go on.” You quip back, leaning back into the couch. 
Dean shakes his head, at least you’re sassing back, that is a good sign. “I got up, was going to start coffee for us, and while I was in the kitchen, Sam did call…
*******
“Hey Sammy,”
“How’s everything Dean, you kinda left me hanging? Did you and Y/N talk?” Sam asks, feeling like a schoolgirl catching up on the latest gossip between you too.
Dean takes a quick peek into the living room to make sure you're still asleep. “Yeah, everything is good. We talked and I think we are going to take things slow.” Dean explains, as he starts to make the coffee, he recounts most of the conversation between you two. Not all the details though, he wants to keep the really good stuff just for him. 
Sam lets out a sigh, “That's good, I am happy for you both. But now I hate to ask.”
“What is it?”
“Look, I know you still want to take some time, until Y/N is fully healed, but Jody could really use your help. There is something in South Dakota that is running amuck, and she’s worried that Claire is going to try and tackle it herself.”
Oh Claire, how she reminds Dean of himself sometimes, headstrong and just ready to fight anything that wasn’t human. She is a good hunter, but she is young. “Umm…yeah…I am sure I can make something work….”
“Thanks Dean, I am sure it will only be a day or two, and then you can get back to Y/N. I will call Jody and tell her to expect you.” Sam says.
Saying their goodbyes, Dean hangs up the phone, and has to hold back from throwing it across the room in anger. Fuck! Not two seconds, and he’s already been pulled back into the madness. How is he going to explain this to her? She won’t believe him, she will be heartbroken again, think it's her fault, and say that she told him. 
Seeing no other solution - or maybe it was that he didn’t want to wake you and see that pain in your eyes - he takes the cowardly way out. 
*****
“So you went to help Jody, a friend of mine. And didn’t think I would understand?” You question him, after he explains the conversation between him and Sam. 
“Yes…I guess I figure you would just see it as an excuse I came up with to leave you. Which it wasn’t, by the way.”
“But you said you would call, check in. But you didn’t! You couldn’t have been helping Jody this whole time? And even if you were, could you still have called!”
“I wanted to, but as I was driving away, I kept thinking about what you said, that you felt like an afterthought, that I blow through town whenever I need you. Take what I need and leave you with nothing.”
“So you figure, prove me right by ghosting me? Well, thanks Winchester, real fun.” You spit sarcastically, giving his knee a not-so-playful slap and getting up from the couch. “The door is still where you left it, you can see yourself out.” Fucking asshole. I need to get those locks changed tomorrow. You think, making your way to the kitchen to get some more water, to do anything but sit there and keep listening to him.
“Y/N, please. I am sorry, you're not an afterthought. The more that I kept driving, and the longer I pushed off calling you, it made it harder to call you. Because I knew as soon as I did I would lose you.”
“Funny, because the second you left, you lost me Dean. God, I woke up that morning and was devastated. Do you know how much I hate feeling like that?” Not needing him to answer, you lean up against the counter crossing your arms around yourself. Feeling the tears start to fall, you might as well go all the way. 
“You know, I never wanted to be that girl, who cried over a guy, who refused to do anything but sleep on that goddamn couch for two months because it was the last place I felt safe, and whole, and seen. I could still smell you on the pillows and blanket.” 
Taking a breath, you run your hands over your face. Taking another ragged breath, you work up the courage to tell him what you know he should know, but that you're scared to say out loud. “But the thing I hate the most, the one thing that makes me want to scream…is that I still love you.” You laugh at this. Its fucking absurd. Trying your best  to stifle your laughter, but it keeps bubbling out of you in frustration and disbelief 
Dean’s not sure how to react. On the one hand, you say that you still love him, but on the other hand your laughing like the fucking Joker. “Being in love with me is…funny?” he tentatively asks. Taking a few steps towards you, but not closing the distance. 
Wiping the tears from your face, you admit quietly, “yes, because I know, no matter what, I will always let you back in. I guess I am just a masochist that way. I would rather have you in my life, and be heartbroken, than to not have you and still be heartbroken.”
Shaking your head, in disbelief that you actually said those words out loud, and to Dean no less. You look up to see him watching you, waiting. “God I am pathetic…you really should not have saved me that night…” you mumble the last part to yourself. Pushing yourself off the counter, you turn away from him, to straighten up the non-existent mess on the counter. Shit, should not have said that. 
“GOD DAMN IT Y/N!” Dean’s yell booms, causing you to turn around to see Dean seething with rage.    Taking the last few steps towards you, he pulls you into a vice grip of a hold. “Don’t you ever say that again, do you hear me? Do you?” He commands, shaking with hurt and pain. 
He’s not angry at you, he's angry that you don’t understand how much you mean to him. That you hold your life as something subpar. Pulling away slightly, he lets go so he can hold your face in his hands. “Please don’t ever think or say that I shouldn’t have saved you that night.” His green eyes, glassy with tears about to be shed, bore into yours. “You are the only good thing in my life, and I know I have a lot of work to do to gain your trust back, and that my life is messy and chaotic, but please…please….don’t ever think I would regret saving you that night.”
You nod your head in response. “Okay” you whisper, “I promise.” You were taken aback by his outburst; Dean has never raised his voice to you, or looked this broken. Then again, you’ve never been this broken, or joked about that night before either. It was a topic that neither of you ever really discussed, more of an unspoken bond between you two.
Relief seems to wash over him. His hands fall from your face, his arms wrapping them around your waist, not wanting to leave the closeness of you. “I know I have a lot of work to do, and this may be pushing my luck. But can I kiss you?” Giving you a half smile, hoping that will seal the deal.
“Fuck, there’s that Winchester charm,” you joke, smirking as well. Screw it, it's been four months without those lips. You lean in and kiss him. Letting your lips dance with his for a bit, you pull back, “just as good and I remember.” you say cheekily.
“So, should we go make some new memories on that couch of yours?” Dean gives you a wink, walking backwards towards the living room, his arms still around yours.
You have no choice but to follow him, nodding. You know that you have a lot of work to do getting over your own insecurities and self doubt that Dean will get tired of you, or that he will regret being with you. You need to have faith in him, and in yourself, that you are worthy of a happy life with him; whatever that looks like.
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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months
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Across Every Universe
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey Jordan, can i request something where Dean Winchester always have a crush on the reader but never said something to her until one day Sam and Dean are transported (based on the episode French Mistake) and Dean actor Jensen and is married to the reader of the universe and she pass the whole day giving Dean hug and kisses because for everyone is Jensen. When Dean and Sam came back to their universe him and the reader start dating? Fluff 
Summary: Sam and Dean are taken back to the same place where Dean is known as Jensen Ackles and Sam as Jared Padalecki. This little trip makes Dean realize his feelings for you.
Square Filled: "god, if only you knew what you did to me" (2023) for @spnaubingo
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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No matter the position you’re in, you’re not comfortable. It doesn’t matter if you lie down on your side, your back, or your stomach. Not to mention the heater isn’t working in the Bunker so it’s very cold. You have three blankets over you while wearing long sleeves and pajama pants. The broken heater doesn’t help your running cold either. You’re not sure where you caught it from but you’ve been trying to stay away from the brothers to not get them sick.
That doesn’t keep Dean away, though.
He’s a complete sweetheart to you since he always brings you soup, makes sure you’re comfortable, and spends time with you even if you tell him not to go near you. You don’t know what you’d do without Dean in your life.
Speaking of, he knocks on your door and enters wearing his usual hunting attire.
“Going on a hunt?” you ask and sit up slightly.
“Yeah. I wish I could stay here and take care of you.”
“Other people need you,” you smile. “I’ll be fine. I’m going to stay in bed, watch movies, and make some soup later. Did you fix the heater, yet?”
“I have someone coming in a few days. He’s also on a hunt.”
“Right, no non-hunters here,” you chuckle.
“I’ll call you later and check up on you, okay?”
“My hero.”
You cuddle with your blankets more and Dean leaves your room with a slight blush on his cheeks. Before he closes the door, he looks back at you in thought. God, if only you knew what you did to me.
He closes your door and meets his brother in the library. As soon as they are packed and ready to go, they start the long drive to the next state over. When Dean gets onto the highway, Sam turns to Dean with a knowing smile.
“So, did you tell her how you feel?”
“Stay out of it, Sammy,” Dean rolls his eyes.
“How long have you had a thing for her? Years? When are you going to tell her how you feel?”
“I mean it, Sam. Stay out of it. I can handle it on my own.”
“Apparently not, or else she’d be yours.”
Dean punches his brother not gently in the arm and Sam laughs. Dean kept the music high so he could avoid talking about his feelings for you. They get to the town that has its residents sacrificing themselves in the name of God. If anything, it warrants some kind of visit from the Winchesters.
The town looks like a normal town with normal people just trying to live their normal lives. They have no suspicions that something is happening but they only just arrived. They get there late at night so they will have to do their work tomorrow morning. Dean takes out his phone when his brother goes into the bathroom to shower and calls you.
“Hey, how are you feeling?”
“I’m doing alright but not any better.”
“Did you take your medicine?”
“Yes, I did.” He can hear the smile in your voice and that makes him smile. “And I ate my soup and drank water.”
“Don’t forget to tell her goodnight,” Sam says loudly from the bathroom.
Dean grabs a pillow and chucks it at his brother. “Go take a shower. You stink.”
“Goodnight, Dean,” you chuckle, having heard Sam.
“Night sweetheart.” He hangs up and turns to his brother with a scowl. “I hate you.”
Sam and Dean actually get more than four hours of sleep that night but when Dean wakes up, he doesn’t recognize his surroundings. The motel is gone, the shutty beds and blankets are gone, and the peeling wallpaper is gone. What replaces it is a nice trailer, a comfortable bed, a big aquarium, and other nice shit that Dean has never had.
“Sammy?” he calls out. He gets up and leaves the small trailer only to run into Sam. “What the hell is going on? Where are we?”
“I don’t know.” Sam looks around and spots a name on the side of the trailer that’s behind Dean. “Oh, no. Look.”
Dean turns and sees the name ‘Jensen Ackles’ on the side. He turns back around and sees ‘Jared Padalecki’ on the trailer opposite his.
“You’ve got to be kidding me? We’re back in actor land? What happened last time?”
“Gabriel sent us here to avoid Raphael and his minions. I have no idea how we ended up here.”
“I bet it has something to do with the fact that people were sacrificing themselves in the name of God. My guess is that angels are involved.”
“There you two are.” Sam and Dean turn to see Castiel--Misha--walking toward them. “They’re looking for you two.”
“Yeah, we’re coming.”
If Sam and Dean didn’t do a good job trying to act last time, then they certainly aren’t going to do a good job now. It’s funny in hindsight but it makes for a very long day of filming. After the twentieth time messing up, Dean is ready to get the hell out of there to figure out how to get back to his world.
He looks to the right and sees you at the snack bar. He immediately calls for a time-out and leaves the set.
“Time out?” the director frowns and looks at him. “Everyone, take ten!”
“Y/N?”
“Come here, you have to try this. Gen made it,” you grin at Dean. You take a scoopful of food and present it to him. He opens his mouth and accepts the food, pleasantly surprised by the taste. “Oh, you have something on your mouth.” You wipe his bottom lip with your thumb and lick the food off. Dean is so confused about your behavior but doesn’t have time to figure it out. Your phone rings and you check who is messaging you. “I gotta go. Gen is here.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly before walking off. Dean can’t move after that quick kiss. You did it so casually like you’ve done it a thousand times. He is forced to go back to acting but he can’t do a good job because all he’s thinking about is your lips on his.
They aren’t getting enough filming done so the director calls it for the rest of the day. Sam and Dean convene outside to make it look like they’re busy so no one else talks to them.
“She kissed me, dude.”
“What?”
“Y/N or the woman who she’s supposed to be. She kissed me like we’re together or something.”
“Look, I’m glad you’re going through the five stages of teenage excitement but can we focus here? How are we going to get out of here?”
Dean looks around and spots you entering his trailer.
“Eh, you’ll figure it out. I’ll be back.”
Dean leaves to his trailer and Sam rolls his eyes in annoyance.
“Dean!” he hisses but receives no answer.
Dean enters his counterpart’s trailer and sees you where the bed is. You’re grabbing some night clothes out of the drawers since you’re not going to be leaving the trailer for the rest of the night.
“Hey, I talked to Gen about the cabin and she got it all set up for us this weekend. I’m so excited to spend some time away from all this for two days.”
“Are we dating?” The comment makes you laugh. “What?”
“Are you okay?” He looks kind of nervous so you walk over to him and wrap your arms around his neck. “I don’t know what’s going on with you but I do know how to make you feel better.”
“How?” he whispers.
You run your hands down his chest and take his hands. You take him to the bed and toss your night clothes onto a nearby chair. You fall onto the bed while pulling him so he lands on top of you but he stops himself with his hands so he doesn’t completely crush you.
You pull him down to kiss you and that’s enough to bring Dean into the delusion that you’re Y/N and you’re his. Your lips are softer than what he thought and your body fits so perfectly against his. He slips his tongue into your mouth to get familiar with you. You tug on his hair to get some traction so he pulls away from your mouth and kisses down your neck.
Your neck has always been a sensitive spot for you and he really knows how to work you up. He licks up and down your neck before latching onto the side of it. You gasp, tilt your head back, and moan something that brings Dean back down to reality.
“Jensen.” You’re not his. You’re not you. You’re Jensen’s. You’re not supposed to be with him. He pulls away and pants above you. “What’s wrong?”
“Can we just lay here instead?”
“Yeah, of course. Let me get changed.”
You slip out from underneath him and grab the pajamas you set aside earlier. You strip down naked and Dean has a hard time not looking at you. He can’t help but think you’re a complete stranger. The pajamas you’re wearing are revealing but he feels better at looking at you with clothes on. You climb into bed with him and cuddle into his side, and he tucks a strand of your hair behind your head.
“How did I get so lucky?”
“I’m the lucky one.”
“Tell me the story of how we met.” You look at him in confusion. “I want to hear it from you.”
“Okay, I got tickets to a red carpet event that my ex-friend invited me to. We were going to see the movie My Bloody Valentine because we thought it was going to be the next big movie. The entire cast was there, including you, meeting fans and taking pictures with them. When we locked eyes, it was like something was pulling you to me.
“You came over to me, complimented me on my dress, signed my poster with your number on it which I still have, and the rest is history. I never got together with you because you were a big celebrity. You were genuine, kind, funny, charming, and very sexy. It was hard not to fall in love with you.”
Dean notices the big ring on your finger and puts the pieces together.
“We’re married?”
“Yes, we are,” you laugh. “Are you okay?”
“I’m just… really happy.”
You lean over and kiss him. The next morning, Dean leaves his trailer before you get up. He doesn’t want to wake you even though he wants to. He finds Sam outside his own trailer with a book in his hands.
“Hey,” Dean sighs.
“I might have found a way out of here, no thanks to you.”
“What if we didn’t leave?”
“Are you kidding me?”
“The love of my life is my wife here.”
“That’s not your wife, Dean. She’s Jensen’s wife. She thinks you’re him. Why would you take that away from him? You have a girl waiting for you at home, a girl with whom you’re too scared to do anything about. Don’t take her away from him because you want what they have.”
Dean knows he’s right. He can’t stay here. He’s using this world as an escape from his own.
“Yeah, you’re right,” Dean sighs. “What do you have?”
“I found this book in the prop section. This might be a TV show but it does have some useful books to make it look real. There’s a ritual we can do.”
And a ritual it is. Once they get the stuff needed and perform it, they are brought back to the town they arrived in a couple of days ago. In order to properly tackle this town, they’re going to need some angelic help. Maybe Castiel can meet them back at the Bunker and figure something out then.
The first thing Dean does when he gets home is go looking for you. You’re still stuck in bed watching your favorite movies on Disney+. You pause your movie when your bedroom door opens.
“Hey, how was the hunt?” Dean doesn’t say anything as he kicks off his shoes. He climbs into bed with you and pulls you close to him. “Dean?”
“I love you,” he blurts. “I should have told you this years ago but I can’t seem to think straight when I’m with you. You make everything better for me, and you’re a better hunter than I ever was. God, I love you so much.”
“I’d kiss you but I don’t want to get you sick,” you smile.
“I don’t care,” he whispers and kisses you.
This is where he belongs. Right next to you.
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miserable-sarah · 1 month
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I Care 18+
Pairing: Dean x Reader Warnings: NSFW, smut, 18+, fingering, oral (F), mentions of blood, bad language, unprotected sex, praising. Requested: Heyyy, idk of ur requests are open but if they are can u please write a dean Winchester x ex girlfriend smut who is a hunter and who dean is still not over. Sam and Dean rescue her from a vampire nest and dean is angry and worried after her and she's all like "stop acting like you care" and he says something like "I'll show u how much I care" + angst + kinda enemies x lovers + dark dean? + marking ; ( set in early seasons llke;1,2,3) A/N: I did make a few changes, let me know if you enjoy it! Thanks!
~
You've been hunting down this nest of vampires for a while. It was a big nest, bigger than you've ever seen. It's a hard job alone but you're confident enough in yourself to do it.
Well at least that's what you thought, you see you went into the nest killing almost all of the vampires that were there. You somehow missed calculated the amount. You got taken down and now you're tied up with no way out. You are dreading this, you have no one coming to save you. You're not scared, you're angry. you're mad that they caught you, and mad that you can't get out by yourself. You don't want to be turned into a vampire or have all of your blood drained from your body. So this sucks. You can hear the vamps talking about something they're too quiet to make anything out.
"Hey! Are you guys gonna do anything with me or?" You ask getting annoyed, you'd rather just die now. They just ignore you of course. So you start singing at the top of your lungs to annoy them, they have "super hearing", you know it bothers them. You continue for a couple minutes until someone, you're assuming the head vamp, comes over to you right in your face.
"Shut up!" He yells in your face "I'll kill you right now!" Just as you were about to say something, you hear a commotion. The head vampire cuts your stomach making you wince, then he leaves without saying a word.
"Aw come on, don't leave me here." You say in a stale tone. "We were having fun." you add. After a couple minutes, you don't hear anything.
"Well, well, look at who we have here."
"Oh, fucking kill me." You mumble to yourself.
"Couldn't handle the nest?" Dean smirks at you. You don't say a word just ignore him. "A thank you would be nice."
"Dean, leave her alone." Sam says to him, Sam comes over to you and unties you.
"Thank you, Sam." You smile at him. You glare at Dean.
"Are you alright?" Dean drops his tough guy act.
"Fine." You say sternly, you walk away from the boys trying to leave the building. You however, weren't fine. You were bleeding and had no idea.
"You're bleeding pretty bad." Dean says to you.
"It's fine, it's nothin-" You look down and see what he's talking about. You're covered in blood. You lift up your shirt and see a huge cut on your stomach. "Oh no." You feel dizzy and then Dean's arms around you as you fall.
~
You wake up in a motel room, not unusual.
"Dean?" You say softly looking around the room.
"Hey, you okay?" He answers, he sits next to you placing his hand on your back.
"Yeah, fine. Thanks." You mumble. You stand up even though your stomach is in pain.
"You should relax for at least a few more hours."
"Nah, I'm good." You say looking around for your things.
"Y/n, I'm serious." Dean says to you in a frustrated tone.
"Dean, I don't care. I'm fine."
"Y/n! Sit down!" He gets angry with you.
"No!" You yell, you have to hold back a wince. He's right you are hurt but you're not going to sit in a room with your ex boyfriend because you're hurt. You can recover somewhere else.
"You're hurt. Something can happen to you!"
"Oh and now you care?" You roll your eyes. "Stop acting like you care."
That was it for Dean. He stood up and got right in your face. "You don't think I care, huh?" He chuckled at you. "I'll show you how much I care." He said with promise. Dean smashes his lips on yours, at first it took you by surprise but you came around to it very quickly. You kiss back but then pull away.
"Dean what are you doing?" You say trying to push him away but he doesn't budge. "We can't, I mean we broke up. It's been months-"
Dean has been on your mind since you two broke up. It was over something stupid, literally so stupid you don't even remember what it was about. You were in love with Dean, well you still are. He treated you like a princess, but like a bad ass princess. He was your safe place and you were his. When you broke up it just so happened to also be a really bad time in his life and he needed to leave. So he did, you two never got to fix what was broken.
"Stop talking." Dean interrupts you. You go to say something else, Dean cuts you off by kissing you, again. This time you immediately kiss back. You slide his jacket off and tug at his shirt. He breaks the kiss to lift his shirt off. Your hands run down his muscular body. You almost moan in excitement.
Dean carefully took off your shirt, trying not to hurt you. He unclipped your bra and tossed across the room. His hands gently massaged your breasts, you let out a little whine. You've been so needy for him it's pathetic. Dean picks you up effortlessly and drops you on the bed. He unbuttons your jeans and slides them off your body, you can feel yourself getting wet with anticipation. Dean hovers over your body he kisses you softly, then your neck, down to your chest, then down your stomach and all the way to your panty line.
"Dean, please" You beg quietly. You hear Dean chuckling.
"Patience sweethheart." He says as he slowly takes off your panties. He kisses up your legs to thighs incredibly slowly. You groan in frustration Dean ignores your frustration.
"Please!" You beg louder.
"Look at how wet you are." He smiles at you "All for me?" He smirks.
"Yes" You moan softly.
Dean finally enters a finger in you, you moan in relief. He watches your face making sure you're enjoying it, he enters another finger and thrusts them deep curving his fingers to make sure he hits your g-spot. You moan louder at the feeling, it's been months since you've been with Dean, well anyone for that matter. Dean always knew what to do to please you though, he just knew your body so well.
"You like that baby?" He asks, you nod and moan "Words" He says
"Yes, Dean." You say softly.
"Good girl." He smirks at you. Dean dips his head between your thighs, you feel his tongue directly on your clit.
"Oh my god." You let your head hit the bed and close your eyes. Dean continues to pump his fingers in and out of you while his tongue dances around your clit. It feels so amazing. You start to buck your hips, he puts his arm around your hips to hold you down.
He adds a third finger stretching you out for him. You moan and whine, it feels good but you want him. All of him.
"Dean, please" You pant. He ignores you, he keeps sucking and licking your clit. "please." you whimper. He still doesn't listen. Your legs are shaking and you try to squeeze your thighs together but Dean won't let you. Your moans become more desperate. "Feels so good" He keeps going he can tell your close by the way you're squeezing his fingers.
Your buck your hips up, you let out a loud moan, your vision goes blurry and you see stars. Dean slowly pulls his fingers out, you look down at him out of breath. He licks his lips then smiles at you.
"You taste good." He slowly crawls up to your face and kisses you. You kiss back and pull him closer. You reach your hand down his stomach and realize he's taken off his jeans. You palm him through his boxers, he lets out a groan. Dean takes your hand and puts it down his boxers you take his invitation and pump his cock slowly. Dean kisses and bites your neck. You pull your hand out and pull his boxers down springing him free. He moans at your movements.
You tried moving to get on top of Dean but he stopped you. "You're hurt. Let me take care of you." he says kissing your forehead. He lightly brushes his hands down your body to your legs, he places them around his waist. He lines himsef up with you and slowly enters you. You and Dean let out a loud moan. "You feel so good." He says through his teeth. "So nice and tight."
"You're so big." You arch your back.
"I've missed you." He says he leans down and kisses you, you kiss back. He rests his forehead on yours, in this moment everything feels right. It feels like everything is going to be okay. You've missed this feeling.
"You're doing so good, taking all of me." Dean praises "Such a good girl." His words make you weak.
"You feel so good." you moan. Dean switches positions he leans up and places your legs on his shoulders, deepening his thrusts. You moan louder, so does he. His grunts and groans are getting more frequent.
"Damn baby, I've missed this pussy." He brings his fingers to your clit and starts rubbing "I can't believe this is all mine. Only mine."
"Yes, all yours."
"I know." He mumbles. Dean continues to rub your clit causing your legs to shake. You whimper and try to move around. "I know baby, I know." He coos at you. "Feels so good, huh?" You nod. "Words." He reminds you.
"Y-yes." You stutter "So good." He's so focused on pleasing you, his hair is messy, his body is glistening, his grunts and groans are filling the room along with your moans. You can feel your whole body shaking, your walls are clenching around him.
"Damn baby you're squeezing me so tight." Dean moans. His thrusts get deeper and faster. "Are you going to cum for me?"
"Yes" You moan "Feels so good."
"I know, you feel so good too." He groans. "I'm not going to last long with you squeezing me like that."
"I'm gonna-"
"Go ahead baby, cum for me." His fingers rub faster on your sensitive clit, with every thrust he hits your g-spot, his words are ringing through your head. Your body starts twitching, your legs shaking, you close your eyes tight, you try to scream but nothing comes out. Dean helps you ride out your orgasm, soon after you feel him fill you up. He lightly presses his body on yours and catches his breath.
You wrap your arms around Dean and hold him. He kisses your shoulder a few times before rolling off you. "Uh, let me clean you up." He says awkwardly. Dean gets up and grabs some clean towels he cleans you up then cleans himself up. "I'll change your bandage too."
"Dean." You grab his arm. "Just come lay down."
"But-"
"Please." You cut him off. He nods and lays down next to you, you move yourself so you're laying your head on his chest. "I've missed you." You look up at him.
"Me too." He says softly "Sorry-"
"Dean. It's okay. I know you had to go." You cut him off. "I'm sorry I never got to apologize."
"I know." He pulls you a little closer to him.
You're not sure what will happen next, you're hopeful it'll work out between you two. You both have a lot of love for each other, if it's meant to be it will be. But for right now all you want to do is enjoy your night with Dean Winchester.
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cevansbaby-dove · 4 months
Text
Fuck me like you hate me 18+
Demon!deanX Hunter!reader.
Saw something on here about demon!dean and now want to write a very smutty one shot enjoy. Light choking, praise kink, Oral F receiving Sex pollen
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You and dean have been through everything as friends and now when Dean becomes a demon you need to have your best friend back.
"hey y/n we got something" You hear sam say. You walk out. "yea?" He says. "Dean has a double problem right now" you place your hand on your hip. "Care to explain?"
"that dust he was hit with...it's called um..sex pollen and him being a demon won't help it.." you nod slowly. 'I'll do anything to get our dean back"
You walk away and see dean tied up. "Y/n please let me go i'm not going to hurt you i promise" you hated seeing him this way so i walk away from him. "Y/N I'm begging you!"
You stop and turn around and walk into the room and shut the door. "is this my dean or is this the other dean?" You untie the ropes on his arms then take a step back and i see his eyes aren't black they were last night. It's our dean.
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in a second his eyes darken and he stands up and grabs your neck pushing you to a wall. "Hello, Y/N." His voice made you shiver. "Come to humanize me?" He asks, growling.
"Your not dean..so kill me or i will kill you!" You spit on his face. He tightens his grip on your neck. "Your going to regret doing that babe"
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"But, sweetheart," he thickly spoke, "I am Dean, as much as you don't want to admit it to yourself. And you cannot tell me that this," he looks down at himself, looking back at you with dark eyes "doesn't turn you on."
He was right oh god you were turned on but fucking this dean wasn't what you wanted. "Let..me go!" you say as your feel your throat tighten up under his grip. "Dean...please"
he lets go of you and says. "I need you so badly Y/N" He reaches over pulling your lips to his. His stubble chin rubs on your chin as he peppers your neck with sweet yet burning kisses.
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"Dean..." you say as his hands unbutton your jeans and then dips into your wet core. "fuck Y/N you were turned on uh?" He picks you up and lays you on the floor.
Dean is still holding you. Dean trailed kisses down your jaw to your neck. Your shirt was blocking some of the skin, so Dean tugged on your shirt, hinting for you to remove it. You pulled back and lifted the shirt off.
As soon as it was gone, Dean's lips were attached to your neck again. You tugged on Dean's shirt, wanting skin on skin contact with him. He didn't get the hint, though. He was too caught up in marking your neck. "Dean, please." "Please, what baby?" "Take it off. I wanna feel you." Dean pulled back and removed his shirt.
Your hands were instantly on his back. You loved the feeling of his muscles under them. Dean's hands moved to your bra, unclasping it. You moved back from Dean to unbutton his jeans. You accidentally rubbed on his cock when you moved back, causing him to groan.
"Sorry" You say with a giggle. Dean grabs your hands pinning them above your head. "You're so beautiful, Y/n." "You're not so bad yourself, handsome."
You say as he removes his pants then says. "I want something to eat though" You moan making him smile. "aww you a needy girl?"
Dean ducked his head down, and you felt him lick a stripe between your clit and your entrance. "Oh god" You say as you arch your back. "God can't help you sweet girl only I can"
He let's go of your hands letting you touch his hair.
Dean moved back up to your clit, sucking and licking it. He pushed two fingers inside you, pumping them in and out. The tip of his middle finger brushed your g-spot, causing you to let out another moan.
Dean curled his fingers against the spot over and over again, while keeping up his attack on your clit. His free hand slid up your body to your breasts.
He took the right one in his hand, squeezing and massaging it. You felt a coil build in your stomach. You could feel it getting ready to snap.
You started to move your hips, causing you to ride Dean's face, desperate for release. You'd expected him to push your hips back down, but he didn't. He didn't mind, though.
"Hmm dean i need you...going to...cum..." You say gasping.
Dean lets you cum and then looks at you. "Fuck i love you"
"Your clit so soaked baby" he says as he kisses your lips. "Dean hmm...fuck me please" He grins.
Dean didn't need to be told twice. He pulled his boxers off and positioned himself over you. He pushed into you slowly. He filled you up perfectly. It was like his body was made for yours. He started to move at a slow pace.
You felt every inch of him as he moved. You reached up and pulled Dean down a bit, wanting to be as close to him as you could. Hell, you didn't care if he was lying on you.
You just wanted to be close to him and have skin to skin contact with him.
Dean leaned down and kissed you passionately as he began picking up his pace.
Dean hit your g-spot with every thrust. The kiss finally broke when the two of you became desperate for air.
Dean's thrusts became sloppy as the two of you chased your releases. Dean moved his hand down to draw circles on your clit, trying to bring you closer to your end.
The only sounds in the room were moans, groans, and skin on skin.
Dean dropped his head down to your shoulder as he kept thrusting. You could hear every little sound he made.
That was just what you needed to reach your climax. You yelled Dean's name as you came. Your walls clenched around Dean's cock, sending him into his orgasm. You felt him come inside you making you moan again.
Dean's eyes change back to his brown eyes that you loved looking into everyday. "Damn Y/N that was.."
You push him off grabbing your stuff. "Dumb!" Dean stands up grabbing his stuff getting dressed. "But it worked babe" He wraps his arms around you making you flinch. "Demon" You say under your breath.
Dean kisses your neck then says. "Demon or not i still love you" you take a step away and unlock the door. "Sam he'es fine now!" You say as you walk out.
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Sam smiles. 'uh uh I'm sure he's fine now" You look at him. "What?" He smirks. "there was uh a camera in there" You jaw drops, Dean's brother saw you and his brother fuck...Oh god.
"Well uh...would have been great if you told me" You say taking a sip of your water.
"Now i need holy water!" he says with a laugh.
A/n:Sorry it took a bit to write this i was dealing with not being in the mood to write smut but i found out hearing smutty songs helps me out big time!
taglist for all things dean/jensen:@k-slla @jackles010378 @alternativeprincess94 @cutedisneygrl
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waywardxwords · 7 months
Text
I've Got You
Summary: After a year of being in Purgatory, Dean has returned and is trying to make sense of what happened while he was away.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader (more of a friendship; they deeply care about each other but nothing wildly romantic happens in this story)
Word Count: ~1.6k
Warnings: Light cursing, angst, Dean/Sam contention (this takes place after Dean gets back from Purgatory and Sam is on/off with Amelia), light fluff, light blood/silver testing (non-descriptive)
A/N: Happy October, friends! This is my first entry for the #flufftober2023 @flufftober prompt challenge. The prompt is: "I've got you." I hope you enjoy!
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“Dean,” you breathed as you walked through the door of the cabin. Even after you heard his voice on the phone, you couldn’t be sure it was really him–not until you saw him. 
“Test me,” his words were firm and clear–much firmer than you remembered. You processed that the man had been in Purgatory for the last year, and his experience had most likely hardened his already tough demeanor. 
“Dean, I–” you tried to stop him.
“Test me, dammit,” he grumbled as he grabbed what looked like a jug of holy water and took a swig of it. Next was the silver; he didn’t hesitate to run it along his forearm before he wrapped the cut it left behind with a bandana. He wiped the blade on his denim jeans. 
“Dean,” you said, for the third time now. Your eyes burned with tears. You knew it was him from the get go, but now it was confirmed. He handed you the holy water and the blade. You moved slower than he did, but you took a sip of the water and winced at the bitterness; it was laced with salt. Then, you took the blade and matched his movements with a small slice on the underside of your forearm. 
Without allowing another moment to pass, he pulled you in tightly to his chest for a hug–so tight, you thought you might not be able to breathe as your body was crushed against his. 
“God, it’s good to see you,” he breathed in your hair before he finally released you. “Where’s Sammy?” His eyes moved over your face inquisitively.
“I, uh, I don’t know, Dean,” you were careful with your words. You were a little bit angry with Sam, but you didn’t want to have to explain why to Dean.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” The sharpness made you blink, but you knew he wasn’t trying to hurt you with his tone. The man had been in Purgatory for a year, for Christ’s sake. 
There was no way around it, though. You were going to have to try to explain and hope he could understand.
“I’ve gotta get out of here,” Sam mumbled. It had been three days since you all had killed the Leviathans, but somehow Dean and Castiel had been killed in the process. You had spent three days researching and looking for how to find them, but you had come up empty. Sam had tossed around the idea of Purgatory , for Cas, at least, because he was an angel; but neither of you knew how that worked–the death of an angel? Where would they go? Could an angel go to Hell? 
“Sam, we’re going to find them,” your eyes were heavy, you hadn’t slept. The pain of running in circles reading and re-reading and searching was making you feel crazy.
“Are we? Even if we do find them, how are we going to get them out?” Sam was angry, and you understood that. But anger wasn’t helping the situation, and you wished he could realize that.
“I don’t know yet,” you sighed as you placed your elbows on the wooden table in front of you and dropped your head into your hands. “We will find a way. We always do.”
“I have no one now. My family is dead, I just…I gotta get out of here,” he repeated. His words stung, but you knew you weren’t family. You weren’t even a hunter, initially. You had stumbled into this world when the Winchesters had saved you on a hunt a while back. Now that you knew what went bump in the night, there was no turning back. “I’m sorry, but I have to go…” Sam seemed reckless, but you also knew that you couldn’t stop him. Not really, anyway.
You stayed silent, but as the door closed behind him, tears pooled in your tired eyes.
After you had explained carefully what had transpired, you tried to ease the blow. “You always wanted Sam to get out of the hunting life, Dean.” Your words were soft.
Dean sat on the sofa leaned forward, his elbows on his thighs as he stared at the wall opposite him. His jaw tightened, but he didn’t say a word.
“I gotta get some air,” he cleared his throat and stood quickly. He reached for his jacket. “I’ll be back later.” Before you could say a word, he was already out the door and pulling it behind him with a slam. You couldn’t help but feel defeated, yet again.
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This was the third dive bar you had checked in an hour. You had lost hope and wondered if you really knew the oldest Winchester at all as you looked for him. But there he sat on a barstool at the end of the dimly lit bar. 
You heaved a sigh before you walked towards him. “I’m gettin’ real tired of looking for your ass,” you grumbled playfully as you carefully moved onto the stool next to him. 
His eyes didn’t move from the back of the bar as he took a pull from his beer. 
“Yeah, well, at least somebody’s lookin’,” he muttered just loud enough for you to hear.
You weren’t sure what to say to that immediately, so instead you leaned against the bar and flagged down the bartender. “Could I get a Stella, please?” The bartender nodded and went to retrieve your bottled beer.
A few moments of silence passed. “I just thought he’d look for me,” Dean's voice cut through the quiet noise in the bar as he stared at the label on his bottle. His fingernails picked at the edges in a way to distract himself. 
“I know,” you tried to form the words in your head before they tumbled out of your mouth incorrectly. “Sam loves you, Dean. He’s just…he’s tired. Does that make it right? Not necessarily. You’re his brother, but this life…it’s not the life he wanted.”
“And you think I wanted it?!” His voice raised as he looked at you incredulously. 
“I’m not saying that. I’m just saying that you and Sam are different people,” you tried to explain carefully, reminding yourself again that it’s not you, it’s Purgatory. 
He seemed to relax as he remembered this was you that he was talking to. “I’m sorry,” he groaned inwardly as he turned back in his stool to face the bar. “I would do absolutely anything for Sammy. I was lost when he was gone. I just thought he might do the same.” After a quick pull from his beer, he changed the subject. “So, what’d you do this past year?” Dean asked acrimoniously, as he glanced at you briefly and toyed with the paper label on his beer bottle.
You waited for a moment, just as the bartender placed your own beer in front of you. You moved it around in your hands for a few seconds. Like Dean, your fingers found the sticker on the bottle and began to pick at it so you wouldn’t have to look at him. “I looked for you,” you answered slowly before you pulled the beer to your mouth and took a sip. You felt his gaze now, his head turned to watch you as if he was surprised to hear what you said. “I hunted a little, here and there. Mostly just when I stumbled upon a job, though.”
“...you looked for me?”
You were surprised that he was surprised. It was your turn to turn your head back to him to meet his gaze. “Of course I did,” you said hesitantly. “I tried everything, Dean. I interrogated demons, I tried to make a deal, I tried to summon Crowley–”
He cut you off very quickly. “Woah, woah, woah,” his eyes were narrowed in on you now and you watched his entire body tense. “You tried to make a deal? And summoning Crowley?” He was pissed. You didn’t care.
“None of it worked, Dean. The crossroad demons said they didn’t know where you were, but I didn’t believe them…though I’m wondering if they really didn’t, since you were in Purgatory,” you were mostly just reading your own internal dialogue at this point. “I’m not sure how that works, exactly.” You nibbled gently on your bottom lip as you processed your thoughts.
“Are you insane?” He was still pissed. His voice rose a bit in volume and you glanced around to see the handful of other bar patrons glance in your direction. 
“Oh, calm down,” you said in a hushed tone while you rolled your eyes. ��Like you wouldn’t do the same thing.” Dean knew it was true, but he still wasn’t happy. “Again, none of it worked anyway.”
“You know better than that,” he shook his head, the disappointment bled through his words. But somewhere mixed in with the frustration, you heard gratitude.
“And you know better, too. I wasn’t just going to sit on my ass or ride off into the sunset like everything was fine,” you still couldn’t find his gaze. It was easier to stare at the glass bottle between your hands.
He didn’t respond right away. The sound of Def Leppard’s “Pour Some Sugar On Me” was playing on the jukebox now, and it was the only noise you could hear just over the chatter of the other people in the bar. “Thanks,” you weren’t sure you heard him right away, but you felt his fingers graze the top of one of your hands that was clasped around the bottle. “I’m really glad I’ve got you. So if some shit ever goes down again, no goin' off and making deals to save me. If I came back and somethin' had happened to you..." his voice trailed off. You would spend a lot of time wondering what he had wanted to say, but chose not to. Instead, you moved your head to look straight into those green eyes, and that’s when you noticed it. A smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, and while his eyes were still sad, you saw a glimmer of hope.
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A/N: Thank you for reading! As always, I am always open to any feedback you may have :)
Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24
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jackles010378 · 4 months
Text
Flannel of Desire
(Dean Winchester X you)
(mentions of intimacy nothing too graphic)
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Dean catches you wearing his flannel and likes what he sees 😏
Dean walked into the kitchen of the bunker, his eyes scanning the room for a snack. As he turned the corner, his gaze fell upon you, wearing one of his favorite flannel shirts, sleeves rolled up as you diligently cleaned the countertops. Something inside him stirred, a feeling of attraction that he couldn't ignore.
He leaned against the doorframe, watching you intently, his mind racing with thoughts and desires. The way the shirt hugged your curves, accentuating your every movement, sent shivers down his spine. He couldn't deny the rush of arousal that surged through him, and he knew he had to make a move.
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Slowly and deliberately, Dean approached you, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. "Hey there, I see you've found my shirt," he said, his voice low and husky. You looked up, surprise flickering in your eyes.
"Yeah," you replied, a faint blush tinting your cheeks. "I hope you don't mind. It was just lying around, and I couldn't resist."
Dean took a step closer, his body now mere inches away from yours. He reached out, his fingertips gently tracing the fabric of the flannel against your arm, sending tingles of electricity through your skin. "Trust me, I don't mind at all," he whispered, his voice heavy with desire.
The chemistry between you intensified, the air in the room thick with anticipation. Dean's hand moved from your arm to your waist, pulling you closer to him. His hypnotic green eyes locked with yours, a mixture of vulnerability and longing shining through.
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Without another word, Dean's lips met yours in a passionate kiss, igniting a fire within both of you. Time seemed to stand still as you melted into each other, the taste and warmth of each other's mouths becoming intoxicating.
Desire surged through your bodies as you stumbled towards the bedroom, leaving the kitchen forgotten and the cleaning abandoned. The intensity between you was undeniable, an electric current drawing you closer with every touch, every caress.
Inside the bedroom, clothes were shed like a trail of breadcrumbs, each discarded garment fueling the excitement. The plaid shirt, once innocent, was now a symbol of provocative desire. The soft fabric slipped off your body, revealing your vulnerability and awakening a raw hunger in Dean.
The room became a canvas of discovery, as your bodies moulded into one, exploring one another with unbridled passion. Skin met skin, creating a symphony of sighs and moans that echoed through the walls. Pleasure surged through every nerve ending, the connection between you reaching new heights with each passing moment.
In that moment of pure intimacy, there was no denying the magnetic pull that had brought you together. Dean, with his rugged charm and smoldering passion, had become an insatiable force in your life. It was a night of unforgettable pleasure, a culmination of desire that left you both breathless, sated, and yearning for more.
The following morning, Dean woke up, stretching his arms reaching out for you, only to realise you had gone. He got out of bed and pulled on a pair of joggers and a hoodie and went in search of you. As he made his way down the halls, he could hear you humming. Yet again he found you in the kitchen preparing breakfast for you both, wearing nothing but his flannel. Leaning against the doorframe again he looked you up and down "you know y/n, you keep wearing my shirts, we're never gonna make it out of my room". You placed the wooden spoon on the counter top and turned around slowly to look at Dean "is that a promise Winchester" you replied with a smirk. It took a second for Dean to walk over to you, tugging you close to him and pressing his lips to yours in a fiery kiss. Pulling away leaving you breathless "oh it most certainly is, I will gladly give you all my shirts to wear" he said with a huge smile, kissing you once more.
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In that moment, you knew that his flannel had been the catalyst, bringing you both together in a whirlwind of ecstasy. A reminder that sometimes, unexpected encounters can ignite a fire that burns brighter than anything either of you could have imagined.
TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck
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Text
A Healing Kiss
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This fic will cover my "Let me kiss it better." square on my 2nd @jacklesversebingo card. The prompt will be in bold.
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Summary: Y/N causes Dean a bit of damage. Can she fix it with a...kiss?
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Just a little bit of smutty goodness. Blowjob. slight handjob. Oral (m receiving). Implied oral (f receiving). Crack if you squint.
Pairings: Dean x Reader
Word Count: 1,968
A/N: Here is the next request for my second @jacklesversebingo card. It came from @suckitands33 :
Oh I’d love ‘let me kiss it better’ how about along the lines of flirting Dean and reader. Nothing actually happening though then reader hurts Dean in the dick and balls by mistake and says that ‘line’ and dean thinks she’s joking but she follows through with it. Love a bit of mutual pining then they give in to their desires. 🙏🏼
The pining ended up being a bit more from the reader's POV, but there's a hint that Dean's in the same mindset. Hope you enjoy it, hon! Hope everyone enjoys it! If you do, please don't forget to reblog, comment and/or like. I so appreciate it! ❤️
The beautiful dividers are created by @talesmaniac89 .
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“Shit! Shit! I'm so sorry!”
Y/N winced as Dean just groaned out his pain and rolled into the fetal position. 
“Dean! I'm so sorry!” She repeated, kneeling beside him, hands running up and down his sweaty bicep. “I just stumbled, I was aiming for your thigh.”
She grimaced again as she remembered the powerful kick she'd delivered, intending to connect with his meaty thigh, a move he could have blocked, or taken easily. They were training and Dean was on the attack, she was on the defense. But she’d just lost her center of gravity for a half second as she shot her foot out and she stumbled, landing the blow to a much more sensitive area.
Dean just waved at her as he sucked in deep breaths. She wasn’t sure if he was telling her it was okay, or telling her to get lost. Eventually he pulled himself up and disappeared into the bathroom. She thought he might be checking for permanent damage. She grabbed the bucket and filled it with ice from the machine just outside their room.
She knocked on the door of the bathroom. “Dean? I have some ice for you.”
The door opened a crack, but only Dean’s big hand stuck out, reaching for the bucket. He groped in the air for a minute until she grabbed his wrist and set the bucket on his palm. It disappeared back inside and the lock clicked. 
She sighed and flopped down on her bed. This was definitely not how she’d wanted this evening to go.
This was only the third time she’d been out hunting with the Winchesters; there was a lull in the case and they had to wait until the next day to interview a couple of witnesses to what they were fairly certain was a demon possession. So Sam was off with the pretty librarian they’d met earlier, and had texted Dean not to wait up. 
So it was just the two of them in the motel. This was the first time they'd ever been completely alone for any length of time and Y/N was feeling the tension. She felt as though there had always been a bit of something between them, just a spark that sprang to life sometimes, a touch here and there that felt like it could be much more if they allowed it.
Or at least, she thought there was a spark. She was a tiny bit worried she'd become delusional because of how badly she wanted the green-eyed hunter. So when Dean had suggested they spend their evening getting in some training, Y/N had jumped at the chance, hoping he was suggesting it as a way for them to get close - and physical. 
She did her best to be at least a little subtle in her excitement over the prospect of sweaty, hand to hand grappling with the hottest fucking man she’d ever known. Since they’d met less than a year before she hadn’t been able to get him out of her head. She was crossing every finger she had that this evening would lead to something she’d been craving for a very long time.
Everything Dean did was sexy, every part of him made her melt - his thick, solid, hunter’s body, long and powerful and begging to be taken for a ride. His deep, rumbling voice, like a shot of strong whiskey, always made her shiver. His eyes and the way they held secrets and promises in equal measure within their mossy green depths. And that mouth - Jesus, it should be illegal for a man to have a mouth that pretty.
He was basically walking temptation and she desperately wanted to give in. 
But now, instead of using their physical closeness and panting exertion to finally get him naked, she’d probably made it impossible for him to have children. She clapped her hands to her face and tried not to scream.
Finally, ten minutes later, Dean came out of the bathroom. Y/N sat up as he set the bucket of melting ice onto the counter beside the coffee maker. She scrunched up her face in sympathy. 
“I’m really sorry.”
But Dean just shook his head and fell onto his bed. “Nah, it’s fine, sweetheart. I’ll live. But you should definitely use that kick on a bad guy; he’ll be down and out like that.” He said with a snap of his fingers.
Y/N bit her lip. “Good to know.”
Dean folded his arms behind his head and grinned at her. “Where’d you learn that little ninja kick, by the way? It’s pretty badass.”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, it’s much more badass when I don’t stumble and miss my target.”
Dean chuckled. “Well, I will admit that wasn’t exactly how I was hoping our sparring session would end.”
Y/N’s stomach clenched. She licked her lips, eyes locked with his. “Really? How uh…how were you hoping it would end?”
Those wicked promises were back in his gaze as he shrugged and smirked. “I was hoping to win, of course.”
“Ah, of course.” Y/N said, trying to gauge his mood. Was this friendly flirting or something more real? “Sorry I nailed you in the nads instead.”
Dean chuckled again, a low rumble. “I feel like that apology wasn’t as sincere as the others.”
Trying hard not to think of the consequences if she was reading him wrong, Y/N got up to walk to his bed and sit down at his hip. “I’m sorry, Dean.” She said sincerely, but slightly breathless. “Let me kiss it better.”
Dean’s eyes widened and warmed. His tongue darted out and he pulled his bottom lip into his mouth, sucking on it for a moment before letting it go, leaving it plump and wet and enticing. He forced another small laugh and a smirk. “That’s funny, sweetheart.”
Y/N smiled and then moved her hand to his belt buckle, just resting it there. “And if I wasn’t joking?”
Dean breathed out roughly, his eyes downcast and staring at her hand. When they raised back to hers, the pupils were bleeding into his bright green irises. “Then I’d say, it will probably take more than a kiss to make it all better.”
Y/N’s grin became wicked as she worked at his belt with one hand. “I’ll see what I can do.”
Dean’s breathing picked up as she unzipped his jeans and reached her hand inside. She groaned along with him as she ran her hand over his underwear and along his incredible length. He was semi-hard already and so thick it made Y/N’s mouth water.
She tugged on his jeans and he lifted his hips to let her pull them off. She climbed onto the bed and straddled his bare legs before running her hands up his thighs. She dug her nails into the thick, meaty muscles there and Dean hissed.
She bent her head down and pushed his t-shirt up so she could lay wet, sucking kisses across his flat stomach. She lowered the waistband of his boxer briefs just a bit so she could bite into the taut v-shaped muscle that disappeared into his underwear, making Dean buck slightly beneath her.
He moved his hands from behind his head to grip the sheets in his big fists as Y/N slid down his body slightly so she could place a light kiss to the thick ridge straining against the black cotton.
“All better?” She teased. Dean huffed out a laugh and his voice was pure rasp as he answered.
“Not quite.”
She hummed and nodded. “Better get a closer look then.”
She slowly peeled his snug briefs down over his hips. He lifted for her again briefly and she freed his dick to slap against his lower abdomen. 
“Fuck me.” She said quietly as she took in the beauty of his perfectly marbled cock, long and thick and leaking.
“That's the idea, sweetheart.” Dean said with a breathy chuckle.
She leaned down to kiss the very tip, flicking her tongue into his slit and making his cock twitch. She moaned as she wrapped her hand around the base and couldn’t quite make her fingers touch. She began placing feather light kisses all along the shaft and she could feel it throb beneath her lips.
She pushed it flat against his stomach and swirled her tongue around each of his balls, earning a grunt and a ragged curse from Dean.
“Fuck Y/N, fuck.” He mumbled.
She mouthed her way up his shaft, teasing and tormenting him by occasionally scraping her teeth very gently over his velvety skin. Finally she closed her mouth tight around the tip pulling in her cheeks and sucking on him like a popsicle. He groaned deeply and her core muscles clenched painfully.
His left hand moved into her hair and he gave it a tug as she slid further down his length. “Yes, baby take it all, swallow me down.” He ground out between clenched teeth.
Y/N hummed her agreement and pushed down as far as she could, till he was touching the back of her throat. She dropped her jaw, and let go of the base of his dick so she could plant her hands on the mattress on either side of his hips and arch her neck so that she could take his whole cock, pressing her nose against his pelvic bone and letting him stretch her throat.
Dean’s hips bucked and she pulled all the way off of him, letting her spit and his cum keep them connected as she looked up the length of his body to watch him push his head back into the pillow and growl. His hand in her hair kept tugging and pulling as she began bobbing up and down on his cock. The slight sting spurred her on, and she moved faster and faster on him, letting him hit the back of her throat every time.
She pushed down hard on him and the spongy head of his cock slipped down her throat once again. She swallowed around him, and then sealed her lips tight and sucked hard as she pulled back up.
Dean pushed against her shoulders. “Fuck, I’m close, I’m gonna cum.”
Y/N gripped his dick in her hand again, pumping it a few times, before she opened her mouth wide and bounced his heavy cock against her tongue. Her saliva ran down his length, allowing her hand to glide over him smoothly as she kept milking him. Finally with a fierce yell, Dean gushed into her mouth and down her chin. 
She pumped him through his whole climax, licking and sucking on him as his hips stuttered and he finally fell back onto the mattress, spent and panting. Y/N cleaned him up with her tongue, making sure she got every drop.
As his breathing normalized and began to even out Dean grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward to fall across him. He brought her mouth to his and kissed her long and hard, not caring that he could taste himself on her lips. He rolled her over and pinned her beneath him before pushing to his knees and yanking his shirt off so he was completely naked. She was still fully dressed.
He tugged on her t-shirt. “Gotta do something about this.” He said as he pulled it off. 
Y/N giggled breathlessly and then gasped as he moved to unzip her jeans. “Does this mean my kiss worked?” She gasped. “Feeling all better now?”
Dean yanked down her jeans and panties with one tug and groaned as he saw how wet she already was. 
He nodded. “Yeah, much better, but now I’m starving.” He said with a grin before sinking down to feast.
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Text
“If You Don’t Look Good, We Don’t Look Good” - Dean x Reader
Rating Explicit
Dean x Reader
Tags: Fluff, Angst, Humor, Shameless Smut (I got carried away), Cameo Appearance by Soft!Dom Dean, Unprotected Sex
Word Count: 4200
You and Sam had decided on a code to use in the most grievous, world-shattering of situations.
Full Dean Meltdown
Neither one of you have had to use it – until you get a text from Sam. A case has gone all kinds of awful for Dean. You are not ready for the version of Dean you have to face in the aftermath.
Notes: This is total self-indulgence because I miss This Dean.
I'm participating in @jacklesversebingo and this part will fill my "Hair Pulling" square.
Image created in Canva (links for photos used - found on Google: Jensen Ackles, Liverpool Comic Con, 2023; Jensen Ackles Photo Shoot
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66
You stare, mid-muffin chew, at Sam’s text.
“Fuck me.” A few stray crumbs and a rogue blueberry land on a page of lore you should probably be more careful with. But you can’t be bothered with MOL reference handling procedures at the moment.
This is Red Alert. Defcon 5. Designated Survivor Mode Activated.
You and Sam had decided on a code to use in the most grievous, world-shattering of situations.
Full Dean Meltdown
“Fuck.” There’s no point in continuing to curse to yourself. “Fuck.” But you can’t help it. Neither one of you has ever had to use it before. You’d come close a few times.
The book is forgotten, pushed to the side on the table surface. Your fingers glide over the phone’s keyboard.
Is he alright?!? What happened? Please, tell me this is a joke?
I wouldn’t joke about this. Sam’s words bubble up, line by line. Well, I made the mistake of joking right after it happened. It’s gotten progressively worse the entire drive back. He hasn’t said a single word since we got in the car. IDK what’s gonna happen.
“Fuck.”
Should I evacuate? How much time do I have?
Just pulled into the garage.
Shit, Sam! Do you not understand how a code word for disaster preparedness works? One needs enough time to actually prepare for the disaster!
You wait. More bubbles. Then nothing. Maybe Sam didn’t make it out alive. Maybe you should make a run for it through the war room and up the stairs. Save yourself.
I received some communication. He’s headed straight for the showers. Meet you in the lab.
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“A what?”
“Musca.” Sam sighs. “Ever seen ‘The Fly’?”
“On cable years ago, filtered through my fingers.”
Sam continues. “They secrete this sticky goo to build a nest.” His mouth crinkles. “Dean landed in it.”
“The nest?” you ask.
“The goo. A puddle of the stuff. Monster fluids freak him out.”
You shiver in disgust at the thought. “Fuck creature feature fluids. 100% in agreement.”
“So, we tracked the musca to its hideout in an abandoned factory. We split up when we got inside…”
“Why do you always split up?” you ask, following it with a frustrated groan.
Sam purses his lips and then proceeds. “When I found him, he was basically glued to this massive conveyor belt holding the goo like it was a kiddie pool. I had to cut him out of most of his clothes to free him.”
The thought of a half-naked Dean has you shiver for other reasons. “Poor guy,” you add in an effort to express sympathy over your dirty thoughts.
Sam chuckles.
You straighten with worry Sam has figured out your crush on his brother. Ready to dispute any yearnings, you add a grumbly edge to your voice and the question. “What was funny about any of that?”
Sam fists long strands on the right side of his scalp high in the air. “Even his hair got stuck to the belt. I had to hack half of it off.” He fingers his bangs back into effortless waves. “Once we killed it, Dean mumbled, ‘Vidal Sassoon you ain’t, fucker.’”
You shrug, confused. “Well, I mean, I get the trauma from the nasty gnat excretions. But that doesn’t explain why you had to warn of a possible Dean disaster.”  
Sam’s gaze tears from yours to stare at the floor by his boots.
“Sam?”
He lifts a shoulder. “I might have said something like, ‘We can’t all be masterful hunters with glorious locks.’”
You frown. “Sam…”
Sam raises a hand in defense. “Hey, maybe now he’ll finally shut up about my hair being a liability. I mean, hello, I’ve still got mine.”
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The temptation to knock on Dean’s bedroom door is great. But you refrain, hiding away in yours instead. He’ll be better in the morning, you decide. Especially if you fry up some bacon.
A light rap of knuckles against mahogany distracts you from the latest show binge on your laptop. You pause the action. “Yeah?”
“Got a minute?” Even with the question, Dean’s tone sounds like a command.
You gulp. “Sure.” Rotating in the seat, your hand grips the top of the backrest. You’ll try to hold the line against the Dean Winchester Offensive.
The door swings slowly on its hinges. Dean slinks into your space. It’s the opposite of his usual bluster and humorous bellows that lead to inevitable laughter on your end. His slippers shuffle along the tile. He’s wearing roomy sweats and a dark t-shirt that hugs his torso. A folded towel is wedged into the crook of his arm. 
Your brain locks onto two things that appear off about Dean. The first thing totally out of place on the masterpiece before you is the baseball cap.
In the next second, you remember why he’s wearing it. It’s not because he’s undercover as a delivery driver or Fish and Wildlife Game Warden.
Dean does not want you to see his hair in its current state.
The second thing makes your pulse quicken. His beard is… gone. You can’t remember the last time you saw him even close to clean-shaven. You forgot what that sharp jawline used to do to your insides.
“Hey.” You don your best don’t-let-on-to-anything smile.
Dean scrutinizes you as if you are a witness in his rapid-fire way and then huffs. “Son of a bitch told you, didn’t he?”
You decide not to remind Dean he and Sam share the same mother. “He did. I’m sorry. You okay?”
The door clicks shut. “I’ll live. Sam might not see the light of day, though.”
You ignore the murder threat, instead focusing on a new scent in the air. You sniff, nostrils flaring with the deep inhale. Dean smells like he’s working on an amazing beach tan.
He nods at your reaction. “Coconut Oil. I had to use all that was in the kitchen for…” He circles his lower body with a finger and eventually points to the baseball cap.
“Did it do the trick?”
“Better than I hoped. I even got all that nasty shit out of my hair.” His weight shifts from one foot to the other. “But I need a favor.”
“At your disposal.” Still seated, you somersault your hand as if addressing royalty.
That at least cracks a tiny smile into his serious veneer. “I had to take a razor to my hair and cut it pretty short. Can you clean me up in the back?”
You clutch your chest and gasp in the most dramatic fashion you can muster. “You trust me to touch your hair?” 
“I trust you with my life, wiseass.” Dean smirks. “Can the sass and help a guy out, would ya?”
A warmth blossoms in your heart at Dean’s words. The heat spreads to your skin. You wave a hand at the towel and clear your throat. “Those the accouterments?”
Dean quirks a brow and grins. “Croutons?”
“And you call me the wiseass.” You sigh.
He shrugs with a nod in agreement. He drops the towel on the desk and lifts one of the corners to reveal the electric razor inside.
“Okay. Here’s as good a place as any, I suppose.” You rise from your seat, close the laptop, and move it to your dresser.
“You sure? We can go to the bathroom.” He thumbs at the door.
You wave a hand at the chair you vacated, now standing behind it. “Here’s good.”
Dean sits. The wooden chair creaks.
“Towel.”
Dean grabs the razor before passing the towel. You flap the fabric, channel your inner toreador, and let it billow over Dean’s frame like a sail. When it settles, you wrap and tuck it into the back of the collar.
Moments like this are pure indulgence. Getting within close proximity of Dean years ago left your brain unable to process the simplest tasks. Breathing. Blinking. Talking. Eventually, you got a handle on your senses. Now, you could treat yourself to the experience of him on occasion in a myriad of ways. No one had to be the wiser that the mundane helped create many fantasies.
“Razor.”
Dean chuckles, presenting you with the razor over his shoulder. “It’s not surgery.”
“Hey, appreciate the seriousness with which I’m embracing this endeavor.” You step to his left. “Dean?”
He lifts his head to peer up from under the brim of his cap. “Yeah?” His blinks emphasize the question.
All that does is force you to focus on his pretty lashes and the eye color he’s daring you to try and describe in your head. The cheekbones and the manicured five o’clock shadow aren’t helping matters either. You swallow and remember what’s supposed to happen next. “Can’t do much with that hat on your head.”
“Oh. Right.” He sighs. “Just, no laughing, alright?”
You place a hand on his shoulder and squeeze softly in confirmation. “No laughing. Promise.”
Dean exhales. You suck in your lips and hold your breath. He closes his eyes and peels the cap off.
You stare dumbfounded.
“Say whatever you gotta say,” Dean mumbles with scrunched features and shut lids.
Your vision clouds. Heart races. “It’s…”
“Awful,” he interrupts.
“Perfect,” you whisper.
Eyes open at the word. His gaze shoots up to meet yours. “Huh?”
Gone are the 90s dreamboat bangs he’s been growing out and tending to since 2020. In their place are a couple of directionless inches that need gel after the scrubbing, clipping, and hat matting. The Musca goo must have done most of its damage around the sides and back. In those areas, he’s shaved it short and close, done his best to fashion a fade that you imagine was muscle memory for him even after all these years. You eye the spot at the base of his skull that needs to be cleaned and tapered.  
You’re blinking, fighting back tears, utterly speechless.
Dean stares, total confusion lining his face. “Are you crying? Why the hell are you crying?” He taps the top of his head. “Shit… is it that fucking of a fiasco?”
“No.” You cover your mouth at the possibility a nervous laugh might spill out, which will only irritate him further. Moments pass as you struggle to steady your breath.
“Well, what the hell is it then?”
Dropping the hand covering your mouth, you beam down at him. “It’s you.” You could care less about what you were supposed to do with the razor in your hand. Instead, you perch your ass against the desk so you can lean back and take him in.
Dean’s eyes widen. You’ve seen that look of concern many times. “Yeeaaah. It’s me. Who else would it be? Do I need to get Sam?”
Your head shakes in amazement at the vision. “I haven’t seen this Dean since… damn, since before the pandemic. Since you and Sam made that bet, remember?”
“Gonna have to be a little more specific. Sam and I make lots of bets.”
“The one about you being unable to resist the temptation to take a razor to your hair during lockdown. I don’t even remember what the stakes were.”
Dean contemplates. “Hm. I haven’t got a clue. That was like, what, four years ago.” His lids shade the dark green of his irises. “This Dean?”
You nod. Your breath hitches at the swell of emotions rising. “The guy I first met.”
Dean shifts in the chair and leans forward. Every furrow and crinkle on his face melts away. His eyes appear to double in size as he waits for you to continue.
“My hero.” The whisper is a physical manifestation of how vulnerable and exposed you feel at Dean’s silent interrogation method. You press on. “The one that risked his life to save me… forever ago.”
He lifts one side of his mouth in a lopsided grin. “Sam was there, too, you know.”
You laugh. Cheeks warm at the adorably smug reaction. “Yes, you’re right. He was.”
Dean shakes his head. “Sam’s had the exact same haircut for years. I don’t see you crying every time you lay eyes on him. He’s a walking reminder of the guy you first met.”
“But he’s not you.” In your haste to provide an explanation, you realize you’ve said too much.
Dean’s mouth opens a fraction. His brows downturn. He’s working it out in his head in real-time.
You’re terrified.
A new smile forms. You think you spot a blush on his cheeks. “What else do you remember about this Dean?”
You shrug and tear your gaze from his. You don’t want your words to betray you again.
“Hm.” Dean rambles off a laundry list. “A lot of brooding back then, wasn’t there? I was a really good brooder. Hard to figure out? Distant, too, right? Definitely knew what was best for everybody. Stubborn jackass.”
You remain silent.
“Okay, still a stubborn jackass.”
You giggle. He joins in with a chuckle. Your anxiety eases and you find courage to look at him again.
“We’ve all changed in different ways, I guess. You, for example.” Dean gestures in your direction.
You stiffen. This could go many ways. You aren’t ready for any of them.
“You don’t take any of my shit, for one.” He raises a finger. “You're confident. You speak your mind. You have a life outside of these bunker walls.” Four fingers are on display for a while. He smiles and elongates his thumb. “But you still make this your home.”
“Every second of the life I’m able to live is because of you guys. I owe you everything. I’m lucky you let me make this my home.” You reason.
Dean’s smile drops. The open palm clenches into a fist and rests on his thigh. “You don’t owe us anything.”
“You and Sam did all that for me without batting an eye. You didn’t expect anything in return. You and Sam gave me so much more than I could ever repay. You gave me a second chance. You gave me a home.” You shrug and smile. “You became my home.”
He studies the floor and smirks, stating more to himself, “Not the only long-standing bet I’ve lost to Sam today.” Dean inhales and sits tall, focusing back on you. He nods, slow and calculated. “So, perfect, huh?” 
You roll your eyes. “Don’t get a big head.”
“A little late for that.” He grins and reclines back. “Would you go so far as to say this Dean” – he sweeps his hands in front of his figure in a dramatic gesture – “is irresistible?”
You exhale. “I don’t know if I’d say irresistible.”
He licks his lips. “Whew. Well, that’s good. I mean, otherwise, you’d have the same problem I have.”
You drop the razor on the desk and cross your hands over your chest. “What problem would that be?”
A heated gaze, beginning at your socked feet, rakes over you with his answer. “How much I find every fucking thing about you irresistible. You could shave your head and wear a potato sack, and I’d still have to keep my feelings in check.” You're practically on fire by the time his eyes lock with yours. “Every goddamn second of every day I’m around you.”
“This would be one of those times I don’t take any of your shit,” you scoff and squint back.
It’s his turn to clutch his hand to his chest. “You think I’m lying?”
“I think you’re having a little too much fun at the expense of my soul-baring.”
“Wanna bet?” 
Dean’s voiced that question countless times. Tonight, though, certainty laces his words.
He seems to take your silence as the only needed response. “Kiss me.”
“Wh-hat?”
“If you think you can resist, kiss me, and it’s a one-and-done.” His brows lift. “But if you can’t… Well, I might not leave this room anytime soon.”
“That doesn’t sound like a wager. More like a dare.” You straighten your stance. “Besides, you’re assuming…”
He grumbles out an interruption, “Sounds like somebody’s stalling.”
Your mouth snaps shut.
“Maybe we both take the armor off for a night. Take a chance on something that could be awesome.” Dean posits. His hands rub the cloth atop his thighs. “I can make it awesome.” The tone is low and promising. “If it helps, I’m this Dean tonight. We can worry about that Dean tomorrow.” He smiles, reaches a hand out to you, and nods in encouragement.
He’s struggling to play it cool, keep his emotions in check. You’ve seen this Dean before. He’s inhaling and exhaling fast through his nose. His jaw clenches and it cracks your resolve even further.
You drop your shield and let this Dean win you over. 
You melt, wrapping your fingers over his. This Dean’s touch electrifies every cell and awakens every dormant hope you had put to rest. He tugs you into his space. His lead forces the parting of your legs in order for his thigh to slot between. You hover. Your chin drops to your chest while his chin tips up high to hold your gaze. His body heat pulses off him like a vibrational energy. “Kiss me.” It’s the sweetest and softest request you’ve ever heard this Dean utter.
Your fingers trace along the freshly shaved hair over his right ear. It’s slippery and smooth in one direction, scritch-scratchy in the other. You can study every battle scar on this handsome canvas. No bangs of curtains or overgrown beard can hide them from you now. 
His lips part and release a deep sigh. Your fingers slip down his neck. Warm hands rest on the curve of your hips.
“I won’t be able to resist you,” you whisper.
“Good,” he hums. He’s guiding you with a firm grip to straddle his thigh. Then, there’s an encouraging push with a large palm and splayed fingers against the middle of your back. The sweet smell of coconut hits. Your gaze zones onto that bowed top lip. The way the plump bottom one parts from it to grant entrance.
Dean huffs an impatient groan you are all too familiar with. “You don’t kiss me in the next five seconds, I’m gonna kiss you.”
“Is that supposed to be some kind of threat?” you tease.
“More like a warning.” His voice is gruff and deep.
You hold back a moan at the sound, then dip down and do as you’re told.
Everything about the kiss is eager and rushed. Together you’re a tangle of limbs and fever pitch need. You’re pressed tight and right to his body - all muscle-tense and trigger-ready. His lips respond in kind to your every brush, swipe, and nudge for more and more.
“Gonna take such good care of you,” he murmurs through the kiss.
You gasp in satisfaction at the intention. 
His lips skim to your jaw, under your ear, then down your neck. “I gotta know that’s what you want.”
“Yes, Dean.”
Another hum thrums against your skin. You shiver as fingers creep under the hem of your t-shirt. His nose nuzzles along the frayed v-neck collar. He cups your breasts under the fabric. A thumb and finger twists one of your nipples even more erect. Teeth scraping and tongue lapping over the other fabric-covered nipple draw a strained moan out of your throat.
Soon the shirt is tugged hastily over your head for removal. Then you feel his mouth and hands all over your breasts again, unencumbered.
You’re a panting, heaving mess riding his thigh like you’re on an X-rated carousel. You arch your chest into his face. He’s slurping and sucking your nerve endings into the stratosphere. He pops a tit out of his mouth long enough to order, “Yeah, come for me so I can fuck that nice wet pussy.”
Dean staring at you, commanding you to come for him, is the tipping point you need to orgasm hard and fast.
“Yeah.” He grabs a fistful of your hair and clamps his mouth to yours. “Gonna feel so good around my cock.” He steals every gasp of air you expel with his inhales.
You’re tingling all over. He peels you off his thigh to sandwich his standing body to yours. He towers over you. He’s stiff and erect in his sweats, pressed into your lower tummy. His hands sweep up and down the channel of your spine.
“This Dean’s got a lot to make up for.” His tongue licks at your lips. “But I gotta be inside you right now.”
You nod. “You got five seconds to get me naked and on that bed.”
Never let it be said that Dean Winchester is not up for a challenge.
The chair behind him is now careening towards the bedroom door on all four legs. You scream-giggle as he lifts you into the air while he twirls, then tosses you onto the mattress, bouncing at the impact.
The sound of the chair crashing and toppling into a corner does nothing to distract you from watching Dean tunnel out of his t-shirt, kick off his slippers, and hopscotch out of his pants and boxers. His hard, thick cock springs to attention.
Fuck. You want every inch of that deep inside you.
He hooks his fingers onto the hem of your pants and manages to pull your socks off along with them. Kneeing onto the bed, he croons, “Been wanting you for so long, baby.”
Your head falls back into the cushion of the mattress, woozy from Dean’s actions and confession. “Probably been wanting you longer.”
Your panties are off and tossed over his shoulder next. “You don’t gotta wait anymore.” He grips under your knees and drags you to him. He slides over the wet heat of your folds and hisses, “Wanna fuck you without a condom.”
You whimper, “Just fuck me already.”
He smiles, grabs his cock – that must be fitted with a pussy homing device – and pistons into your entrance without any further mother fucking ado.
You gasp at the searing heat and sharp pain of him stretching you open. But he doesn’t stop fucking you. He’s minding how your facial features accept the brunt of each thrust and the agonizing slow release of his cock. Over and over. His descent is just as slow as he fucks. But eventually, your legs clamp around his waist and he wraps you in an embrace. Chests plastered together, moaning into each other’s mouths.
Your fingers inch into what remains of his bangs. You pull at the hair and Dean groans out, “Yeah.”
It’s lovely and languid for however long you both have the patience. The feel of him everywhere and inside is something you don’t ever want to end. But there’s a second orgasm building. The thought of Dean spilling into you has your walls clench in impatience around his cock.
“Fuck,” he grunts, face tucked along your neck. You lift your head up to enjoy the view of his undulating back and curvy ass clenching and raising as his fucking gains momentum. You pull at his hair again. “Fuuuck.”
He stills, turns to stone, and you feel his cock pulse and warmth spill inside. Moments later, a hand wedges between your bodies to thumb your clit and trigger your second orgasm.
You cry out his name.
“I got you, baby,” Dean whispers into your ear. And he does. Not letting go and practically swaddling you with his body. The sexiest weighted blanket on the planet.
You smile and stroke – instead of pulling – at his hair. “Who’s got me exactly? This Dean or That Dean?”
He sighs, sounding winded. “You get all the versions. Whether you like it or not.”
“I’d like that very much.”
He leans back to stare at you. “Yeah?” He’s red and flushed and the happiest you’ve ever seen him. “Even if I grow my hair out again?”
You nod. “Yeah. More for me to pull.”
Dean groans and flops to his back beside you, chuckling.
You listen to the rhythm of your collective breathing slow down and regulate. His fingers brush along the flesh of your thigh. “Dean?”
“Hm?”
“Earlier, you said something about losing two bets to Sam today. What was the other one?”
“Asshole told me you had a thing for me years ago. Let’s hold off on telling him he was right, or I’m doing his laundry for an entire year.”
“I don’t think we have to tell him anything, Dean. I’m pretty sure he heard everything.”
“Hm. You’re right.” He’s up on an elbow, staring down at you. “Maybe text him that code thing? That might get him out of the bunker for a while.”
You blink. “Code?”
“Don’t play coy now.” Dean shakes his head. “But what’s the ‘66’ mean?”
You bite your lip.
He waits.
“It was Sam’s idea.”
He waits.
“The 66 Seals.” 
Dean cringes.
You shrug. “Too soon?”
“And he says I have a twisted sense of humor.” Dean yawns. He finds the edge of the comforter you both are lying atop and tosses it over your naked bodies. “So, will you still clean me up in the back? Maybe wait until morning, though?”
“Absolutely.” You snuggle into his chest, secure that Dean will wake up next to you in the morning. “If you don’t look good, we don’t look good.”
It takes a beat before Dean responds with a teasing smack to the back of your head, followed by a kiss on your forehead. “Wiseass.”
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missacidburn928 · 7 months
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Feeling extra gothic and spooky. Might mess around and finally work on this beauty.
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Fantasy/Little Red Riding Hood/ABO AU 
Our Alphas: Jax Teller, Dean Winchester, Captain Syverson, Ari Levinson, Bucky Barnes
Our Little Red Omega "Selene/Red": Omega Fae with powerful sex magic who's scent lures the strongest Alpha's from all around to test their might and virility. Light hazel eyes in shades of green and amber. Full pouty lips. Thicc and curvy. Built to be every wolf’s desire. Made to be bred. Has an unquenchable lust for the taste of Alpha blood on her tongue and her mark on their flesh. 
Summary:
Their sweet words fall like bittersweet honey. Lacing pain and menace under a sugary facade. Coating everything. Sticky, sweet and unthreatening. All earth and warmth. The best disguise for unsuspecting beings, with open hearts and damaged souls.
A succulent entree for her sharp teeth to feast upon. For she is made of moonlight and fang. All charm and soulful eyes. While hiding an all encompassing darkness inside. 
Sinful lips with a deadly tongue. Patiently waiting for her prey to become safe and lucid. Drunk off of her words and lingering touch.
When their red hoods fall, exposing the softness of their throats. Her eyes become bigger, as her hunger and lust for flesh grows. Just one bite and she'll change your life.
My, oh my.
What big fangs you have my dear.
🐺
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deanwanddamons · 1 year
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Undercover - Prologue
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Summary: Homicide Detective Dean Winchester and Agent Y/F/N Y/L/N go undercover to solve a spate of murders. 
Universe: Detective AU
Pairing: None yet. 
Word Count: 1.8K
Chapter Warnings: Description of nightmares and sleep paralysis. Dark subject matter. 
A/N 1: As always thank you to my beta @winchest09, who helped me with the idea for this story. You are my cheerleader, my bestie and my constant support. I love you. A/N 2: As you may or may not know, I haven’t written anything in an absolute age. I have been struggling with writer's block and life has simply got in the way. But…I started this series a long time ago and a few chapters were just sitting in my docs. So I thought I would post this prologue in the hope that you guys enjoy, want to read more and it may give me the inspiration to continue with it. Please let me know what you think - comment and reblog if possible ❤️ Tag list is open if you wish to be added.
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Dean had woken with a start. A sheen of sweat covered his body, his limbs tangled in the sheets. His breath came in short gasps as he tried to calm himself down from the recurring nightmare that plagued him.
It wasn’t the first time he has had this particular dream. In fact, it was the third time this week. He could never quite remember the exact details, had even resorted to keeping a notebook and pen by the side of the bed in an attempt to make sense of it, but so far, the pages were still blank. All he knew when he woke was that he was scared. No, not scared. 
Petrified. 
His body would refuse to move, sleep paralysis pinning him down. He could move his eyes, but that was all. As they flickered around the room, every shadow seemed like a threat, every creak an intruder. A scream would build in his chest, his lips desperate to open to allow the sound to escape, but they remained sealed shut. The fear would build as the shades loomed over him, their darkness and weight pressing down on him like a boulder, the oppressive atmosphere suffocating. 
Then the paralysis would break. Finally, the scream would fly from his lungs as his body jerked up, hands fisting the sheets, his knuckles white from his vice-like grip. 
As he relaxed, he sank back down into the mattress, chest heaving as tears spilled down his cheeks. His clutch gradually loosened on the covers, releasing the material. 
He sat back up and leaned over. With trembling hands, he switched on the bedside lamp. The welcoming glow spilled into the room, the monstrous shadows rushing away, back into the corners to cower there until they decided to taunt him some more. Picking up the glass of water that he always kept on the chest of drawers, he brought it to his parched lips, the liquid rippling on the surface as his hands continued to shake. Taking a large gulp, he swallowed hard, the water slightly tepid, but a welcome relief to his dry mouth. 
Placing the glass back down, he scanned the room. As usual, he was alone. He had no one there to soothe him. No one there to wake him before the nightmare took hold. No one there to offer comfort, to reassure him everything was okay and he was only dreaming, which seemed to be getting worse each time. In the dream, he was running through a dark, unfamiliar forest, his heart pounding as if it would burst from his chest. He could hear the sound of something chasing him, but whenever he turned around, there was nothing there. 
The feeling of being pursued was terrifying, and it seemed like he was running for hours. Eventually, he would stumble and fall, and when he tried to get up, he found that he couldn't move. It was like his limbs were made of lead, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't seem to get them to work. That was when he would wake up, drenched in sweat and panting for breath.
Dean knew that he had to find a way to stop these dreams. They were taking a toll on his mental and physical health. He had tried everything from meditation to sleeping pills, but nothing seemed to work. He couldn't shake the feeling that this dream was trying to tell him something, and until he figured out what that was, he wouldn't be able to rest easy.
Knowing the answer before he even looked, his eyes landed on the digital clock, the glowing red numbers telling him it was 3.40am. When he awoke from a nightmare, it was always at the same time, and tonight was no different. 
He knew sleep would evade him for the rest of the night. His alarm was set for 5am, so even if he did manage to doze back off, he would only get an hour or so. Accepting that he would not be getting any more rest, he swung his legs out of bed, and padded across the room, deciding to take a shower. 
As Dean entered the bathroom, he stripped off his t-shirt and boxer shorts that were damp with sweat. Throwing them into the laundry basket, he switched on the shower and waited for the water to heat up, moving to the toilet to empty his bladder as it did. Turning to the sink, he cleaned his teeth and swilled mouthwash around his mouth. The liquid spilled from his mouth into the sink, circling down into the void. The troubled man glanced up and stared at his reflection in the mirror in horror. He looked exhausted. The shadows under his fatigued forest green eyes were dark and large, his pallor pale, causing the smattering of freckles that adorned his usually handsome face to stand out like a child’s dot to dot colouring book. His light brown hair was sticking up in messy angles, flecks of grey obvious in the harsh luminous light coming from the bulb that was too bright for the small dimensions of the room. He sighed and rubbed his face, the stubble there emitting a scratchy sound as he brought his palm down his neck. 
Stepping into the warm flow of the shower, Dean leaned against the cool, tiled wall, letting the water cascade down his body. His muscles were aching, as they always did after suffering from sleep paralysis. He supposed it was from clenching them in his sleep, holding them in one position against his will. He kneaded his shoulder, digging his fingers into the skin, trying to release the tension. It helped slightly, but the pain was still there. Squeezing some shampoo into his hand, he massaged it into his hair, his eyes following the stream of suds as they ran into the drain. His mind went blank and he placed the palms of his hands against the wall, allowing the pent-up tears to fall, no longer able to keep them inside. They mingled with the remnants of the shampoo as they slipped down his cheeks. 
He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this. Ever since ‘the incident’ - as he put it to himself - he hadn’t got any more than three or four hours of sleep a night, and it was catching up with him. But Dean couldn’t let it show, couldn’t let anyone else see that he was weak - not in his line of work. He had to deal with it alone, deal with it inwardly, even though it ate him up inside, piece by piece, bit by bit, until there would be nothing left. The only place he could get any kind of reprieve from it was when he was in the shower. That way, not even he could distinguish the water from the tears. He had never been one to show his feelings.
His mother had passed away when he was four. His younger brother, Sam, had only been six months old at the time. A house fire had ripped her away from them. Their father, John Winchester, had struggled to deal with his grief and took a job which required traveling around the country, forcing the broken family to stay in bleak motel rooms all around the US. His father would often work overnight, leaving Dean to practically bring up his sibling alone. Dean had become Sam’s protector, his provider and his best and only friend. The older brother's relationship with John was extremely fractured, their arguments legendary. 
When Dean told him he wanted to become a detective, his old man had laughed, telling him that there was no way he would ever be able to, that he would amount to nothing. This made him even more determined, so at nineteen he moved to Lawrence, Kansas and joined the police force. He had become a detective by the time he was twenty-five. Dean was now forty, living in Los Angeles, having had to leave Lawrence after ‘the incident’  and was one of the most senior and respected officers in his precinct. Of course, his career had always come first, and even though he had had a few brief relationships, he had never met ‘the one’. It was common knowledge that if detectives did settle down, many of the marriages ended in divorce, due to the pressures of the job, so Dean decided long ago that he was better off alone. A conclusion he rarely regretted, except on the nights where he woke from night terrors, scared and needing some human contact. 
When Dean was in his twenties, his father had passed away. He hadn’t cried in public, shedding only a single tear at the funeral, which the younger Winchester had witnessed. When Sam had placed his hand on his shoulder - his eyes dry -  Dean swiped the tear away, and vowed never to show any weakness to anyone again.
His little brother had applied for college, aced his exams and was accepted into Stanford University to study law. Now thirty-six, he was running his own law firm in Lawrence, having joined Dean in the small city. When Dean had moved to L.A., Sam had stayed. He was married to a lovely girl called Jess, a high school teacher. Even though he was distraught at his brother moving to the other side of the country, he couldn’t go with him as there was too much for him to leave behind, but he knew that Dean had to go due to his particular circumstances. They spoke regularly over the phone and via Skype, and Dean was extremely proud of the man Sam had grown up to become. 
Taking a deep breath, he stepped out from under the water and turned off the tap. Wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked from the room, his damp feet leaving footprints on the wooden floor of his apartment as he made his way into his bedroom and looked at the clock. It was still only 4.10am, and so he dried himself off, pulled on a pair of sweatpants, and padded into the open plan kitchen.
The exhausted man was desperate for caffeine, so he switched on the machine, preparing his cup while the coffee bubbled. After pouring the beverage into his mug, he sat down, rubbing at his tired eyes that felt like sand had been thrown in them, and unplugged his cell from the wall. 
Scanning through his email, the phone suddenly started to ring in his hand. 
“Hello,” Dean said as he brought it to his ear.  “Detective Elliott? It’s Detective Hanscum.” a woman said, urgency evident in her voice. “There’s been another one.”
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Chapter One
Tags (and adding those who may be interested) - @salt-n-burn-em-all / @littlelonewolfgirl / @krazykelly / @deans-spinster-witch / @lastcallatrockysbar / @ssimelttilgniht / @123passwort / @winchester-girl67 / @winchestergirl2 / @americasass81 / @jessjad / @akshi8278 / @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior / @waywardbaby / @deanwinchesterswitch / @440mxs-wife
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imaginationlover101 · 2 years
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Early Morning
Dean Winchester x reader
Summary: After Sam woke Y/N, & Dean up early for an early morning, unfortunate events lead to a long morning.
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The alarm clock and Sam's voice was all that could be heard when I woke up. I didn't even hear the birds chirping or the cars moving on the street, the only thing I heard was Sam.
The motel room was completely dark when I opened my eyes. I had slept on that couch that night needing some sleep of my own. The couch seemed more appealing for a night of sleep then Dean stealing the covers and kicking all night.
Leaning over the head of the couch I could barely see Dean waking up, Sam was hovered over next to him poking at his shoulder. Dean finally woke up, but not before pushing Sam leaving him to fall into his own bed.
Sam got off his bed and began to turn the lamp on near Dean's side. Deans eyes winced as he began to sit up and I could already see Dean looking at me from across the room. Dean sighed and pushed Sam's shoulders back pointing my way.
"Oh great job Sammy, see you woke Y/N up." Pushing the hair out of his eyes, Dean got up out of his bed and made his way towards me. Slowly walking over to the couch, Dean turns back to look at Sam opening the blinds.
"Dean you can't run away from me while I'm still trying to talk to you." Sam continues to clean up the motel room while Dean rolls his eyes.
Finally making his way towards the couch Dean sits down on the makeshift bed, laughing when it squeaked. Dean sat on off the couch again and repeated the same actions he did before leaving me to bounce with every sit. After awhile it started to become annoying and I wanted nothing more for him to stop.
"Dean stop your giving me a headache." Rolling over so that my face was smushed in the pillow, I put my hands over my ears.
"Oh, what's the matter sweetheart you got a headache?" Nodding towards him Dean leans back further onto the couch so that his back is fully against it. Turning the tv on Dean leaves on repeats of general hospital and begins to rub my back. Practically almost falling asleep again Dean interrupts my thoughts.
"Wait a minute, Sammy why'd you wake us up anyways?" Waiting for a response from Sam the bathroom door open. There was Sam already dressed and in his suit hanging up the phone with someone.
"I got us a new lead that's why. Remember that girl Cathy, and how her parents went missing off that bridge, well there's more to the story that gives in. Were supposed to meet with Cathy at-" Looking at his watch Sam turns and looks our way "-7:30."
Groaning to myself I wanted nothing more then to not go on this case. By the looks of it, it was already 6 o'clock and I needed at least a full hour to get ready. For some reasons I knew I was feeling off already. Waking up with a headache, moodiness, wanting to lie in bed, I knew that something was wrong.
Dean rolled over on the couch leaning into my side. Putting his head on my stomach, Dean starts to hide himself in my blankets. "7:30, Sam that wayy to early, why were you up that early talking to that girl anyways? Does my little brother have a crush?" Moving his eyes in a curious way, Dean looks at me then back to Sam.
Sam looks between both Dean and I, and begins to grab his stuff. "Come on guys, you get ready I'll get breakfast." Finally all agreeing on something we all start to get up. Sam finally leaves the motel room and the door slams.
"Ughhh fine Sam I'll getting ready." Dragging my bunny clad slippers across the tile floor, I made my way into the bathroom. I could already hear Dean laughing at me for the way I dragged my feet and carried the blanket with me to the bathroom.
Dean and I started to get ready together switching between the bathroom and bedroom. I started to apply my makeup on when the first cramp came my way making me drop my brush. Dean noticed, and came my way. "You sure your okay sweetheart?" Nodding I turn my head back to the mirror.
The motel room door opens and Sam comes in with two white bags. "Now listen they had 2 bagels, and 2 dounts so I got both of those and sandwiches." Looking at the time I couldnt even believe any place was open. I was still was in shock at how Sam got all 3 of us to wake up that early.
Sitting at the dining room table in the motel the three of us all eat our food. Sam had the sandwich, Dean eat half a bagel and muffins with a sandwich, while I finished Dean's other half of food. The boys and I continued to talk speaking about the case and any possible threats. Sam and Dean finished cleaning up our mess from last night while I finished getting ready.
Grabbing the high heels from my suitcase I knew it was too late. Bending down I could feel all the cramps going through my body. Taking a container of tylenol, heels, and my overnight bag to the bathroom I was complete. Leaving all of my stuff on the counter I knew I wasn't okay. The never stopping cramps and the headache that lingered was bothering me and I started to wondering if I could miss this one case.
Stepping out of the bathroom I turned to the boys. There they were both doing the total opposite of one another. Dean was lying on his bed partly falling asleep while Sam sat at the table reading . Sam looked at me and knew something was wrong.
"Y/N are you okay, you look kinda pale?" Joining Sam at the kitchen table I slump in my seat.
"Yeah, erhhh well no?" Huffing into my chair I brought my hands into my head towards the table. Sam scoots closer and begins to inspect my face.
"What happened?" Rubbing my arm Sam starts to close his laptop and look near the bathroom towards my makeup bag seeing all my items everywhere.
"That-" pointing to the tylenol bottle, I spoke again. "That happend Sam. That horrible, horrible thing that happens once a month, and I hate it. I just wanna go to bed." Whinning I began to take the bottle into my hands. Realizing I was acting like a baby I began to move away from Sam. Sam noticed and took the bottle out of my hands and held them instead.
"Y/N it's okay to feel that way, I'm sorry I woke you up I didnt know you were feeling good" Smiling I looked up at Sam, he always knew the right things to say.
"Its okay, I wanna go on the case but I dont feel good." My eyes started to tear and I began to take my heels off. I guess the dropping sounds of my shoes woke Dean up because the minute he dropped he leaned up straight.
"Whats happening! Since when do you guys talk so loud?" Dean sits up and straightens his coat before putting it on.
"Come on we got a case to solve Dean let's go." Sam motions for Dean to get up and walks towards me. Sam grabs the dount bag before placing it infront of my eyes.
"That's for you. Go lay down relax and eat dounts." Laughing I look at Sam and thank him moving towards the couch. Of course the minute I sat down the springs on the bed popped up.
"Wait a minute sunshine, why arent you coming with us?" Dean looks at Sam who gives me the blanket from the bed. Dean looks between the two of us with curiosity.
"She doesnt feel good Dean just leave it." Dean puts his hands up and walks in the bathroom to brush his teeth. I watch as Sam puts his shoes on and switches out his ids. Sam gets all of his things and asks me to tell Dean he was outside.
Muttering under his breathe Dean huffs "Where'd he go?" Pointing to the door Dean starts his line of curses at Sammy.
"Call me if you need me, ok?" Nodding Dean and I exchange goodbye while he walks out door. The last thing I heard was the door locking before I passed out of exustaion. In one way I felt bad letting the boys go alone, but I was doing them a favor they could use some bonding time.
I didnt know what time it was when I woke up all I could remember where the lingering cramps I felt and the presence of Sam and Dean.
"Dude shut up, shes sleeping." I could assume that it was Dean saying those words. I could hear Dean's footsteps coming closer to the couch because he shut the tv off. I knew it was Dean's footsteps coming closer because of the way he stepped. Sam walked with caution trying to be quiet with each long step he took, while Dean stomped his feet taking shorter strides.
Opening my eyes I realized the room was now completely dark. I didnt know what time it was but I could hear the rain hitting the shutters outside and someone getting out of the shower. Looking at the tv I had seen that 6 hours had passed since the boys left. The room was quiet now besides from the shower noise and the smell of take out. At this point the rain had been beaming on the motel window, the wind moving the power lines with each move.
The shower had finally stopped and the bathroom door opened. There stood Dean with a towel wrapped around his waist walking to his suitcase. He must of not notice that I was awake yet because by the time I crawled around the top couch to say hello he almost dropped his towel.
"Jesus Y/N you cant wake up from the dead like that." Rolling my eyes at his remark, Dean collected the plaid pajamas pants and grey t shirt from his suitcase and went back to the bathroom.
"Where's Sam?" I called from the bathroom. I wondered where the youngest brother was seeing as I had heard his name before, but now he was gone.
Yelling from the bathroom Dean stopped brushing his teeth and opened the door. "He went on a date" Gasping when the words came out of his mouth Dean laughed. I couldnt belive Sam had went on a date. It had been the first "date" I had known of since Jessica and I couldnt of been happier for him.
"Well dont seemed so surprised Sunshine, my brother has moves." Standing up from the couch I walked to in the bathroom with Dean watching as his shaved his face. Sitting on the toliet seat I watched in curiosity as Dean shaved his face.
"Can I try?" Pausing what he was doing Dean stopped to look at me. Pointing the blade my way Dran brought the shaving cream to his hand.
"You wanna try shaving my face?" Dean held the blade in his hand waiting until I gave an awnser. Nodding my head I began to stand up pointing for Dean to sit on the lid. Mumbling to himself Dean starts to complain, "I cant belive I'm letting you do this."
Taking the blade from his hand I start to outline Dean's face with shaving cream. Dean shutters from the cold, but just holds onto his legs. I could already tell Dean was nervous when I brought the blade to his face because he was already inching away. Sighing to myself I placed the blade back on the counter. "Dean you know I wont hurt you."
Laughing Dean leans back to his position placing my hands on top of the blade again. Dean begins to look around at everything besides me. The shower curtain, tile floor, my slippers, the granite countertop, the mirror, and then finally he looks my way giving me the nod of approval. "I know, I just never had anyone else do this before, I trust you sweetheart."
Smiling at the nickname I began to put a hand on Dean's shoulder and lean closer to his face. In all honesty it was a lot easier then I thought. I could of sworn that I cut him a couple of times, but when the shaving cream was off he was clean like a baby.
Grabbing a washcloth from under the sink I began to run it under the water for Dean's face. Dean and I had been in this position before, believe it or not. Standing close to one anothers embrace cleaning up eachother wounds. Out of all the scenarios I could think of this had to be the most intimate. Even when we would clean up wounds we still held affection, and protection around eachother. But standing in the bathroom (no one hurt) while the two of us laugh and deeply focus on one another was something elese.
After wiping away the cream from Dean's face, he grabs my hand and holds it for a moment. Letting out a soft thank you, I smile and motion for him to get up. Dean followed me to the couch and there we sat watching old re runs of our favorite 80s movies. Towards the end of the night Dean and I practically fell asleep, the ambience of the rain and the darkness of the motel added to the perfect sleepy weather.
By time Sam came home he was already confused. The motel room was pitch black and when he tried calling both of our names, there was no awnsers. Putting the kitchen light on Sam looked around the room searching for Dean and I. Finally landing his eyesight on the two of us, Sam smiled. There layed both Dean and I cuddled into one another's arms wrapped in a blanket. Sam shut the kitchen light off and headed into the bathroom thinking about how well his date went and how his two best friends were finally making a move
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Fertility
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Word Count: ~1.2k
Warnings: fluff
Request by anon: Hey can i request a Dean Winchester x immortal demigoddess wife reader that is the daughter of whatever god or goddess and she is not a hunter just a normal girl that make Dean and Sam immortal with her magic and everyone in the hunting community know her as Dean innocent wife and she don’t cared about that, she is pregnant with Dean baby and know she is walking to the kitchen with Dean shirt and boxer because is comfortable and perfect for her pregnancy belly and him just loved. happy ending with a lot of fluff, kisses, and possible smut. 
Summary: You want Dean to meet your mother, the Goddess of fertility, love, beauty, and pleasure. Only problem? She lives in Egypt and Dean hates flying.
Square Filled: Delphinium for @spnonewordbingo (deleted bingo)
Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3
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Man, this Bunker really does have everything about everything. This small library has vast knowledge about virtually every single monster there is and has ever been. Some of them are extinct but it’s still good to know about them just in case. You’ve come to learn that anything can happen in the hunting life.
You flip through the pages of a lore book about Egyptian Gods and Goddesses when you come across one that makes your heart soar and a smile spreads across your face. You run your finger delicately down the page and stare at the Goddess trapped inside the book.
“Hi, mom,” you whisper.
Your mother is Hathor, the Egyptian Goddess of fertility, love, beauty, and pleasure. She is the protector of women, and she does a helluva job of it. You’re a demigoddess with only half of her powers, but you’re still like her in so many ways. Not only are you immortal, but you have the power to fight well in any hand-to-hand combat, mental manipulation, and mental torture. Your mother does it a lot better than you can, but you’ve done a good job at practicing over the centuries.
She offered you a place by her side in Egypt where she currently resides but you wanted to see the world and explore it on your own. You wanted to make your own adventures instead of being the shadow in hers. It’s a damn good thing you listened to your gut because you wouldn’t have met Sam and Winchester otherwise.
The first thing you did when you came to the United States was save a woman from being attacked by a man. This man wasn’t to exert his power over her by forcing her into doing things she didn’t want to do, and you put an end to it immediately. She got her revenge just like the thousands of other women you’ve saved from having the same fate. Saving women and torturing men has gotten you this far in life and you don’t plan on stopping, not within the next few centuries, at least.
The biggest thing you gained from your Mother is the power of fertility. You can’t count how many women you’ve come across who want to have children but can’t. They don’t know how it happens, but they wake up one day and realize they’re pregnant. Your powers have only been used for good and you don’t plan on stopping any time soon.
You just love bringing life into the world just like your mom.
The bar was in full swing, and you’re at the bar sipping your drink and watching everyone. You never know when someone is going to need you. There was a couple at the dart boards who were arguing over the point system. You kept an eye on them just in case you might need to jump in.
The bell above the front door rang as two people walked in. The shorter of the two made eye contact with you and it was as if time stopped. Because your mother is the Goddess of Beauty, you’re naturally flawless. Even if you’re not someone’s type, you’re beautiful to them.
“Drinking alone?” he asked when he approached you.
“Not if you sit down and drink with me,” you flirted.
“Sammy, be somewhere else,” the man said and sat next to you. The taller one rolled his eyes and left the bar counter. “I’m Dean.”
“Y/N. Sammy your brother?”
“Yeah.”
“Younger or older?”
“What do you think?”
“I think you’re older. You have that energy about you, which means you’re just my type. I like them older.”
You were not about to tell him that you were centuries older than him.
You and Dean hit it off that night and not because he took you back to his room. That night also was the night you learned they are hunters. You saw the weapons in their bags and made a deduction paired with the fact that he had an Anti-Posession Tattoo on his chest. There was no time beating around the bush so you told both of them who you were, who your mother is, and the fact that you’re immortal. Dean didn’t care so that’s how you started seeing the eldest Winchester.
You’re not a hunter. You have no desire to be a hunter. You just help people where you can but instead of monsters, it’s humans. After a few years of being with them, you made both of them immortal per their request. You don’t make anyone immortal without their consent, and the brothers had plenty of time to think if they wanted this or not. You have the ability to take it away, but the years will catch up to the person immediately. That usually means death.
Still, you’re happy with the family you’ve made and wouldn’t trade it for the world.
You close the book on Egyptian Gods and Goddesses before getting up. You place a hand on your swollen belly and pat the area where you know your child can feel it. Once he gets old enough, he’ll be able to choose if he wants to be immortal or not. After he turns eighteen, of course, and you’d do it for him.
You’re wearing one of Dean’s shirts since they are so comfortable so when he sees you enter the kitchen, he grins. He even has your favorite flowers on display on the table. Such a gentleman.
“Damn, just when I think you can’t get more beautiful, you walk in wearing that.”
“Good morning to you, too,” you greet. He kisses you quickly and bends down to kiss your stomach. “I want to take a trip with you.”
“Where?”
“I want you to meet my mother.”
“You want me to meet an Egyptian Goddess?”
“Yeah. She’s really sweet. I think you’d love her, and I know she’d love you.”
“I guess that’ll be okay.”
“We have to fly there. She’s in Egypt, naturally.”
“Shouldn’t be a problem,” he says in a quiet voice.
“Are you sure? I know you hate flying.” He nods without saying anything, and you grab his face so he’s forced to look at you. “I can ask her to come here, but I don’t think she’ll take well to leaving Egypt. She has her own business that she won’t part from.”
“I’ll be okay.”
You lean up and kiss him quickly.
“I’d like to go before I get too pregnant to fly.”
The gears in Dean’s head turn as he thinks of a solution that will benefit you both.
“Why don’t we visit her until after the baby is born? That way she can meet him, too.”
“You just don’t want to fly. You’re pushing this as far as you can, aren’t you?” you chuckle.
“Sweetheart, I can’t help it. They’re dangerous.”
“You’re a big baby, you know that?”
You leave his side and sit down at the kitchen table so he can finish cooking in peace.
“I promise we can go after he is born. I really would love to meet the woman who made you.”
“Maybe afterward, we can meet your mom!” you gasp. “I can get us into Heaven. I know a God.”
“One parent at a time,” Dean chuckles and plates the food.
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Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary​​​​​​​​​​​​ where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)
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imdonnalynn · 2 months
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I implore Jensen Ackles fans to go online, purchase season 1 and 2 of James Cameron's Dark Angel that aired on FOX from 2000-2002 before being unceremoniously cancelled at the end of season 2.
Jensen Ackles first played Ben/X5-493 in season 1 episode "Pollo Loco", his character died. But he was so popular he was brought back as a series regular in season 2 as a twin to his character, his name was Alec McDowell/X5-494 and it is truly one of his standout performances.
Jensen Ackles has stated a lot of Dean Winchester was based on his character Alec. So I, as a writer and reader of fan fiction find it a disservice when avid writers discount looking into the role.
He's better than Dean is any day. Such a shame his fan fiction fans don't see it or seem to not want to.
James Cameron's Dark Angel was a series before it's time and cancelled and forgotten about (even by Cameron who has devoted his life to his Avatar franchise).
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Saying “I Love You.”
Summary: Dean Winchesters x Fe!Reader ~ The four times Dean Winchester said “I love you.” and the one time you meant it as something more. 
FLUFF! FLUFF! FLUFF! (mentions of periods, kissing, falling in love and like, one swear word)
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The first time Dean Winchester told you he loved you, it was when he got back from Hell. Not straight away, though. It had been after a werewolf hunt. It had been pretty simple for this kind of hunt. 
Sam was still inside the motel room, fast asleep. You knew Dean hadn’t been sleeping much since he got back, waking up with terror in his eyes. More than usual. 
The morning had been cold, the icy mist and fog slowly settling across the fields across from them. The motel they found was in the middle of nowhere. Much like the pack had been. 
Dean looked back, hearing the motel door open and close. You stepped out, your body wrapped in a pair of jeans, a long henley - one that, let’s be honest, probably belonged to one of the boys - a flannel (also their’s) and a thick woolen jumper along with a pair of boots on your feet. 
“Hey,” you smiled. Your voice was quiet. The first word of the day. 
Dean smiled seeing your hair, slightly messy from sleep. Your face was slowly growing in colour and your eyes were still showing tiredness. 
“Hey,” Dean said back.��
He was leaning against the Impala, watching the fog and mist across the grass, a cup of coffee in his hand. Dean didn’t really know how long he’d been up, but it was long enough for his coffee to be colder than it should have been. 
“You weren’t in bed.”
You and Dean had shared a bed that night. Like every night. You had been hunting with him since Sam left for college. It was both your own solo hunt and Dean’s. You worked it together. You stuck together after that. 
Neither of you really could remember why or how you both decided to stick together but it was better together than alone, so that was something. 
Dean seemed to dodge the statement all together, reaching round behind him. “I got you coffee. It’s probably cold by now but-”
“Thank you,” you smiled. “I love it.”
Dean smiled back before taking a drink and looking back to the fog. 
“You can talk to me, you know. I won’t tell Sam if you really don’t want me to.”
You could see the look in his eyes. Distant. Lost. 
“Dean?”
You placed a gentle hand on his upper arm, and that was when he looked at you. 
“I love you.” Dean blurted out, looking at you. No, not looking at you. Looking into you. Like his entire head was talking to you through telekenisis, letting you know about everything he wished he could say outloud. 
“Not in the “I’m-madly-in-love-with-you.” way, so, you don’t have to look so worried.” Dean said with a small laugh. “I just...you’re my family. You and Sam. And, I love you.”
You gave him a light smile. He’d tell you when he’s ready. 
“I love you, too.”
You placed a long kiss to his cheek before landing back on your feet. 
“Next time you wanna leave in the middle of the night, at least leave me a blanket. You are my designated human heater.” You joked, finding a smile spread on Dean’s face. 
“Sure.”
- - - - - - - - - - 
The second time Dean Winchester told you he loved you was during a hunt. It was just a quick one. One that was so flippant that you didn’t even realise either of you had said it until Sam brought it up later that night while Dean was at a bar and you were left with Sam in the motel room. 
You were, once again, pretending to be FBI agents. You were interviewing a couple of suspects and speaking to local police when you were given a lead. You would call Sam and search it out together whilst Dean stayed back at the Police Department so check out a few more things. 
“Just, be careful?” Dean had asked you before you left the station. 
You smiled and gave a nod. “I will.”
“Okay. I love you.”
“Love you, too.”
Other people who had heard around the station just gathered you were partners in both work and life so didn’t really question it. Sam, however...this had been the first time he’d heard it. 
“So, what was all that about earlier?”
“What was all what?” You asked, your eyes not leaving the case files in front of you. 
You had found Dean a few hours ago still at the sation in the back. The lead Detective, when you walked in, pointed you to the room. 
“He’s been in there since you left.”
“Thanks.”
You walked in slowly. Dean was sat at a small desk, his tie off, his top buttons undone and his hair a little messy but in an attractive way. Not that you would tell him that. It would probably only boost his ego. 
You had to basically drag him to the bar. 
The last couple of weeks, Dean had been getting too far into the work. Hell, Sam was beginning to spend more and more time at a bar than researching. And his time at being at both hadn’t changed. 
“All that before. The...I love you.” Sam smiled. 
You thought back. “Oh. Oh, yeah. It’s just...what we said. We’re family. It’s normal.”
Sam gave a smirk. “The only time Dean has ever told me he loves me, to my face, in actual human words is when one of us is dying.”
You looked up to Sam across the room and smiled. “Well, maybe it’s about time we said ‘I love you’ without any of us dying. Sam, he didn’t mean nothing by it. Not in the way you’re thinking.”
Sam smiled. “I- I’m not thinking anything.”
“Yes, you are. And you can stop. We’re good friends, Sam. You and Dean...you’re my family.”
“Alright.”
“Stop.”
Sam couldn’t hide his smile. “Okay, okay. But, just tell me one thing?”
“What?” you asked. 
“Will you make Cas wear a dress as Maid-of-Honour?”
You rolled your eyes and threw one of the library books at Sam’s head. 
- - - - - - - - - - - 
The third time Dean Winchester said ‘I love you’ was in the afternoon not long after they found the Bunker. 
Sam had gone on a run, Charlie was sat at the table typing away in her own little world and Dean was out on a beer run. 
And yourself, you were stood in the kitchen cooking the first decent meal you’d all had in a long, long time. 
“Hey!” Dean caught Charlie’s attention before he threw her a bag of chips. 
“Oh, my god, you found them?!” Charlie smiled. 
“Last in the store. You’re welcome. And for the chef for the evening,” Dean pulled out a bottle of orange soda. One they hadn’t sold in years. Not anywhere outside of your home town, anyway. 
You smiled and took the bottle from him. “Aw-ww. Thank you. I can’t believe you found this.”
“Yeah, apparently they changed manufacturer a few years ago.”
“Well, thank you.” You jumped up and kissed his cheek before remembering you had something for him. 
“Pie? You- You baked me a pie?” Dean asked as you lifted it from the counter. 
“One fresh cherry pie. Just for you.” 
“Just for-” Dean looked from the pie to you with a wide smile before he pulled you in for a tight hug. “Have I ever told you how much I love you? Because I do. So much. I love you, so, so much.”
You smiled and let out a laugh. 
“Hey, I helped!” Charlie called out from the table before she scrambled out from the bench and over to both of you, joining the hug. 
- - - - - - - - - - - -
The fourth time Dean Winchester told you he loved you, it had been much like second. It was just flippant. Said casually as if it came off his lips and tounge every single day. And, let’s be honest, it did. 
He might not have said the words ‘I love you’, but he said them in other ways. In the ways he made you coffee in the morning. How, after a night of drinking, you didn’t even open your eyes as you walked into the kitchen and grabbed what you thought had been a coffee pot. 
“Why does my coffee taste of apples?”
Dean was soon beside you. “That’s because it’s apple juice.” He took the cup from your hand and placed his own coffee mug in it’s place. “Here.” Dean had a soft smile on his lips as he watched you drink your coffee and visablely relax and leant against his chest as he stood beside you. 
“Can you make the world stop spinning?”
“I would if I could, sweetheart.” Dean smiled. 
It was in the ways he cleaned your guns when you got back from a hunt whilst you patched up Sam, not trusting the long-haired-moose to do it properly. 
He said ‘I love you’ in the way he would let you hold his hand, make him sit down, and patch him up after you got back from a hunt and his mind had been elsewhere the entire time. It was in the ways he would cover you up late at night or how he’d walk you to bed and make sure you didn’t crash out in the hallway. 
Dean Winchester said ‘I love you’ in the way that he would tell you what was going on in his head when you asked, whether that be verbally or silently with just one look. It was in the way he would look at you when you told him something or gave him something he needed when even he didn’t know he was in need of it. 
You both knew each other like the back of your hand. And nothing would ever change that.
The fourth time Dean Winchester said the words ‘I love you’ was early one morning. You had been awake for about 20 minutes and he was going out on a quick store run. 
“You need anything?” Dean asked you. 
You looked around when suddenly, the two things you were looking for appeared in front of your face. 
“Thanks.”
Dean smiled and nodded. You wrote him a list of items you needed, adding sanitary pads as the bottom of the list. 
“Ooh, already?” Dean asked. He knew how painful your periods could get. There had been many times he’d washed your sheets whilst you got cleaned up in the bathroom. 
He was a hunter. He’d seen a lot worse than monthly blood spilled onto sheets. 
Those were the words he’d told you when you panicked and came back out of the bathroom and found him stripping your bed of your bloodied sheets. 
You hummed in response. 
“Okay.” Dean nodded. “You want me to pick you up some of that chocolate you like?”
“And potato chips!” You called out from where you had your head buried in your arms that lay folded on the table. 
Dean nodded. “And potato chips. Okay. I’ll be back in 40 minutes. I love you.” Dean quickly kissed the top, his hands gently squeezing the top of your arms. 
You mumbled back a response; “I love you, too.” but you were 30 seconds from falling asleep again.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 
Finally, the fifth time Dean Winchester told you he loved you...it was also the first. The first time he said those words in a way unlike any other he had before. It was the first time he said those three little words that had such a bigger impact than you throught they would have.
Everything seemed to change a few months ago. One day everything had been fine, normal, familiar. And then...it all changed. It was like everytime Dean wanted and went to say those three little words, he couldn’t. He’d say nothing and just hug you or oddly nod before leaving the room as quick as he could.
Usually it was the latter. 
You had thought over and over again about what could have happened, what could have been said but you couldn’t. 
You had been in pain. Both from cramps and from the fact you got thrown backwards at warp-speed into a barn door not more than a few hours before hand. 
“You okay? You need anything?” Dean asked as he walked into the library where he found you leaning against the table, your head down and eyes squeezed as tight as your hands were wrapped around the edge of the wooden table. 
You hummed tightly and shook your head. 
Dean waited a few moments, knowing the pain would pass just enough for you to be able to move. 
“Okay, come on. You got your hot water bottle?” 
You nodded. “In my room.”
“Then you go and get settled and I will make you some of that witch-tea that Rowena brought the last time she was here.”
You gave a small laugh. “It’s just ginger tea, Dean. It’s not a magical potion - although it does feel like it is sometimes.”
Dean nodded slightly. “Maybe so, but when it comes from her, I will always be a little skeptical.”
That night, Dean fell asleep beside you, you cuddled into him as you both sat and watched old reruns of Scooby-Doo. Dean seemed to remember everything that happened from the episodes, even if he hadn’t seen them in 20 years. 
That morning, Dean went missing and you eventually found him cleaning Baby in the garage towards midnight. He’d been out driving all day. 
But you were about to get the answers you had been waiting for. The answers to why Dean had been avoiding you and trying to keep you at arms length. 
It was late at night and Dean had been acting weird all day. It was like he wanted to be close to you but at the same time, run for the hills. And it was killing you. You just wanted to hold him. Hug him. Kiss him. Do something just to make him stand in the same room with you for more than 30 seconds. 
Sam had gone to bed a couple of hours ago and Cas was on a ‘weekend get-away’. Something you and Sam had booked for him a few months ago. He needed a break from Angel business and hunting business. The retreat was warded against most supernatural beings and just enough so that Angels couldn’t use their powers. Niether could demons. It was a place of relaxation for all supernatural beings. 
You were sat in the kitchen reading through some old case files that Garth had sent through. A couple of suspicious things had been happening two towns over. It might be nothing, but it was worth a look. You were finishing up on background research. 
Standing, you walked over towards the stove and began making a cup of tea when you felt a presence stood by the door. 
Dean.
“Hey, can-” Dean paused for a moment. “Can we talk?”
You wanted to yell yes. God, you’d love nothing more. 
“Sure.”
Slowly, Dean walked inside as if he was waiting for the floor to open up beneath him. Every step just...please don’t break beneath me, you are the only thing holding me in an upright position right now.
“What’s up?” You asked, walking back over to the table, only, Dean intercepted you. Dean stood in front of you and eventually leanted against the edge of the table. 
“Dean, I love that you want to talk to me but I thought this might involve actual words.” You said light-heartedly. “Dean? Hey, is everything-”
“I love you.” Dean blurted out, but the moment he did, his eyes went wide with panic. 
“That’s what you wanted to tell me?” You smiled. “I love you, too.”
“No. No, I mean- I love you.”
You furrowed your eyebrows and tilted your head. It was like he wanted it to sound different but it didn’t. 
“Dean? Wait. Hold on. You haven’t done something reckless have you?” You quickly placed down your hot cup of tea on the side and stood back in front of him with your hands on your hips. “Because I swear to god, if you have-”
“What? No. No. I haven’t done anything reckless. Or stupid. Or any other adjective you want to use. No. I just...God, I didn’t think this was the way it would go.”
“What would go?”
“Me...opening up...like this. What else am I supposed to say?”
You let a small laugh escape from your lips. “Say about what, Dean?”
“That I love you. That I’m in love with you. And not in a cool way, like, at all. I’m talking the ending of When Harry Met Sally; the whole you want the rest of your life to start right away speech.”
You didn’t know what to say. For one, he’d referenced a movie that he said he’d never watched - although you both had watched it together about two years ago and Dean knew most of the lines- for two, he was in love with you. 
“Son of a bitch.” Dean spoke under his breath as he looked to his hands. “I knew I shouldn’t have said anything. Let’s just- can we forget this ever happened? Yeah, let’s just do that-”
Dean went to stand up but with a firm hand you pushed him back down to sit against the edge of the table. 
“This is why you’ve been so weird the last couple of months?” You wasn’t really looking him in the eyes as you spoke, but once you finished, it was like Dean could feel your stear piercing his soul. 
“What?” Dean asked. “Wait. I tell you I’m in love with you and that’s your recation? You could seem less offended.”
“No. No. I’m not...I’m just...when?”
“When?”
You nodded. “When?”
Dean straightened up, his hands relaxed in his lap. “Four months ago.”
You stood back and folded your arms. “Four months?”
“You called me a nerd before you fell asleep and told me you wouldn’t have me any other way. But four months ago, I just realised that I was. I was long gone before that.”
You knew something about that. 
About a year ago, you had a freak out and you didn’t know why. Just woke up one day, Dean had cooked you breakfast and made your eggs exactly how you liked them - unlike Sam who, god love him for a tryer, just couldn’t get them right.
But, you being you, had taken it out on the case, freaking out of over the littlest things until Dean took you by the shoulders and made sure you were looking at him when he talked before he pulled you in for a hug. 
That was when you knew you were a gonner. 
He knew everything about you and it took you more than a decade to realise that you were completely in love with the legendary hunter, Dean freakin’ Winchester. 
“You’re in love with me.” You said it as a statement whe you began walking backwards until you were finally leaning against the silver kitchen island. “You’re in love with me?”
Dean knew you well enough to know that this wasn’t a rejection. This was pure confusion and fear. But, to be honest, he’d been weird with you the last couple of months and then, close to midnight, had confessed his undying love for you.
You looked across at him. “This isn’t some cruel joke, right? You’re still you? I know this place is warded within an inch of its cement but...”
Dean was now in front of you and reached behind you for a container of salt and the small jar of holy water. He poured them both over his hand and then pulled out his silver blade. 
It was him, alright.
“Look, you don’t have to say anything. You don’t even have to look at me but with how our lived have been in the last 20 years, I guessed I better say something sooner before we were hit with yet another life-threatening-world-altering threat.”
You nodded, rubbing your face before looking up to him. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea. I’m in love with you, too.”
“You don’t have to just say it to make this less awkward.”
“I’m not. I’m in love with you. You remember my freak out last year? That was when I realised-”
“Y/N, you don’t have to-”
But Dean was unable to finish the sentence because less than a second later, your lips were on his. You could feel his entire body go stiff until he realised what was happening. 
And after he did, it felt kinda...normal. Familiar, even. Like this was how it was always meant to be.
Just you and him. Together. Like this.
His hands came to both your face and your lower back pulling you in further to him as your hands went from his flannel shirt to his neck. 
You didn’t know when you both broke the kiss, but either way, you both stood still in each other’s arms, holding one another, heads lightly against one another. 
“I love you, Y/N. I’m in love with you.”
You smiled. “I’m in love you with, too, Dean Winchester.”
274 notes · View notes
waywardxwords · 7 months
Text
I Always Have
Summary: Dean reluctantly agrees to visit a haunted house with you.
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female Reader
Word Count: ~2.1k
Warnings: Slight language, small mention of claustrophobia, fluff!
A/N: Day 3 of the #flufftober2023 (@flufftober) prompt challenge! The prompt is: "Wait, you love me?" - "I always have." Side note: if you are on my tag list, I am planning/attempting to post once a day during the month of October. I know that’s a lot of tags and mentions, so if you’d like to be removed you can do so through the Tag List linked in my bio.
Enjoy!
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Haunted Houses weren’t really Dean’s thing…well, of course real haunted houses were. But this was different. This wasn’t haunted by real spirits or monsters; mostly just local high school and college students who needed extra money in the fall so they dressed up like ghosts and ghouls. 
Dean had always hated the idea of actually visiting a haunted house. “You’re gonna pay money to go into an old building and have idiot kids try to scare you? Seriously? That’s the dumbest shit I’ve ever heard.” 
“It’s not just a haunted house, Deanie,” you had egged him on with the nickname he didn’t seem to appreciate. “It’s the pumpkins, and the apple cider, and that fun feeling of experiencing fall and Halloween as a kid.” He had just rolled his eyes. You loved getting under his skin, and as much as you would tell Sam you didn’t know why, you knew (and Sam knew, for that matter).
“Would you two just kiss already?” Sam had teased you from the kitchen of the bunker one night after you had poked and pushed on Dean so hard he had given up and retreated to his bedroom. 
“Ew,” you had forced yourself to shudder at the thought. “Don’t make me puke.”
He laughed so hard he tossed his head back as he did it. “Yeah, okay. The tension between you two is about to make me puke, so do me a favor and just keep it outta the main living areas, got it?” He wasn’t able to dodge the sponge you had been washing dishes with as you tossed it right at his head. 
So here you stood on this October night in the bunker looking at Dean blankly. You blinked twice. 
“You comin’ or not?” He drawled with mock frustration as he pulled his army green jacket over his red and black buffalo plaid flannel. He grabbed the keys off of the counter top and looked at you expectantly. 
“You’re taking me to the haunted house?” You still didn’t believe him. 
“I was plannin’ on it, but you better hurry the hell up before I change my mind,” he grumbled but couldn’t hide the tug at the corner of his lips as you practically squealed and ran by him to get your jacket. 
“Dude,” Sam eyed his brother as soon as you were out of ear shot. 
“I don’t want to hear it,” Dean held up his hand and went to wait for you in the Impala. 
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“What made you change your mind?” You finally asked as Dean pulled the Impala into a parking spot in the dirt field. There were tons of other cars—this wasn’t just a haunted house, but a haunted trail as well and you could hardly hide your excitement. 
“I was tired of hearin’ you bitch and moan,” he shot you a cheesy, over exaggerated smile with his eyes squinted. You rolled your eyes and flung the door open. “Hey, careful with my Baby!” He chirped, his face suddenly morphed into a small scowl. 
“I’m not gonna hurt your precious car, Deanie,” you teased as you met him by the front of the Impala. Each step you took almost had a skip to it, and you couldn’t help yourself as you slipped your arm through his and linked it just at his elbow. 
You weren’t sure if you imagined it, but you felt like his demeanor softened. The two of you walked like that as your boots crunched against the gravel and dirt. There were quite a few others there and a line had formed. The trail was dark but lit by yellow glowing lanterns strung from trees and solar path lights on the ground. 
“Fifteen dollars per person,” there was a teenaged boy at the front of the line with a cash box. Dean’s scowl returned. “Cash only.” He added on at the end. 
“Seriously? Fifteen bucks?” He looked at the kid who just pointed to the sign taped to the front of the table he was at. It read in printed font, ‘$15 per adult’. “Great,” Dean fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet. 
“I got it, Dean. You brought me here and I know it’s not your thing,” you reached for your cross body bag to fish out the money. 
“I got it,” Dean huffed as he retrieved a $20 and a $10 from his leather wallet. “Here.” He handed it to the kid. The kid nodded you both into the event. “What first? Trail or house?” 
“Hmm,” you pondered, your excitement had returned. “Let’s do the trail first.” Your eyes wandered for a second and a squeal left your lips again before you could reign it back in as your gaze noticed a booth just ahead. 
“Jesus Christ,” Dean mumbled, but there was a slight chuckle tucked behind it. 
“Apple cider!” You practically pulled him towards the stand. There was no line, so you were under the lights of the vendor almost immediately. “Two apple ciders, please.” This time, you were sure to pull out your wallet first. 
“That’ll be six dollars,” the woman returned with two cups of cider. You handed her the cash and handed a cup to Dean. 
“Cheers!” You beamed as you clinked your paper cup against his. You noticed a small eye roll from him, but he obliged and took a sip. 
He made a sour face. “Why do you love this stuff?” He rubbed his lips together to get the sweet sticky substance off. 
“I think the real question is, how do you not love this kinda stuff,” you threw back at him as you looped your arm back through his and slowly walked towards the trail. “Halloween is so magical, Dean! It’s literally the best time of year. I think they’ve even polled people on that and determined it is actually the majority's favorite time of the year.”
“Yeah, well, they forgot to poll me on that one,” he grumbled. “We fight this stuff every day. Not this stuff, because it’s fake. But the real deal—the kinda stuff that could kill us. How are you not jaded by that?”
You took a moment before you answered. Your feet stopped moving, so Dean’s stopped too. He turned to look at you as your arm fell out of his. 
“When I was a kid, my Dad loved Halloween. I swear, his whole mood changed when fall rolled around. He built a wooden casket and rigged it with fishing wire to open when our front door opened. We scared every kid that came to our house. And kids would literally come from all over to get spooked,” the memory brought a smile to your lips. “I didn’t even want to trick-or-treat half the time. I just wanted to be at home with my Dad scaring the local middle schoolers. My Dad could be difficult,” your smile fell for a moment as other memories tried to make their way through—memories that Dean was well versed in at this point in your friendship. “But when Halloween came around? Man, those were the best days.”
Dean was silent as his eyes watched your face. He saw the emotions ebb and flow as you spoke. He nodded once. “Okay, then,” he said simply. “Let’s go get spooked.” This time, he held his arm out for you to link yours through, causing you to smile. 
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The trail ended up being more hilarious than terrifying. But you and Dean had thoroughly enjoyed watching others jump and yell as they made their way through. 
Next up, the haunted house. This was a little bit different than the trail, as the hallways were so tightly constructed, only one person could walk ahead at a time. You shuddered slightly as you waited, but it was enough for Dean to notice.
“Oh, come on,” he teased as he glanced over his shoulder at you. “You’re not scared, are you?”
Your face scrunched at him as you gave him a slight nudge. “Not scared,” you emphasized. “Just jumpy…” sounds of other haunted house goers ahead of you erupted from just inside the corridor–it made you excited all over again. 
It was your turn to enter the main hallway next. They paused between groups to give everyone the full experience. Dean led the way with you closely behind. The house was even darker than outside, if possible, so it took your eyes a second or two to adjust. 
There were fake cobwebs and a strobe light tucked away somewhere that sent flashes of light in the hall. Screams filled your ears, and you weren’t sure if they were from other patrons or if there was an audio playing in the background—probably the latter. Your eyes danced around in sensory overload as you tried to take it all in. As Dean rounded the first corner, you missed the memo that there were holes cut out in the wall, so when the first pair of hands reached out followed by someone growling behind the plywood, you couldn’t help the way your body jumped or the scream that followed. 
Dean tossed his head back in laughter and turned briefly to look at you. Your heart beat pretty hard against your chest, but you still reached out to swat at him. He surprised you by catching your wrist with his large palm and carefully pulled your arms so they were around his middle. He held them there, and you realized he was giving you something to hold onto. 
“Alright, Kat Harvey,” he referenced your favorite Casper-loving character from the classic ghost movie. “You’re alright.” The hum of his voice vibrated through the layers of clothing on his back. Even though you didn’t feel scared anymore, you couldn’t pull your arms away. 
You inched behind Dean throughout the rest of the haunted house, laughter erupted from both of you as teenagers tried to scare you. It was refreshing to see Dean laugh—truly laugh—and it made you smile. 
As you exited the house, he released your hands he had clutched against his middle and cleared his throat. “That was…”
“I know, I know,” you rolled your eyes as you shook off the empty feeling you felt without his touch. “It was lame, you can say it.”
He hesitated for a moment as he looked back to the house and then shrugged towards you. “Nah, I was gonna say it was actually kinda fun.” A smile tugged at his lips. 
“Oh…” you grinned back. “Yeah, it was fun. Thanks for bringing me here, Dean.” You tucked a fallen strand of hair behind your ear and turned to head back to the parking lot. 
“Where are you going?” He asked. When you turned back, you noticed he hadn’t moved from his spot. 
“Uh…back to the car? That was all you had signed up for…heck, you kinda threw me a bone agreeing to do both the trail and the haunted house.”
“Nuh uh,” he shook his head. “I spent thirty bucks to get us in here. There’s a pumpkin carving booth over there. You said ‘pumpkins, apple cider and haunted houses’. We’re doin’ all three, dammit,” he said firmly but followed it up with a smile. 
Your eyes beamed at at him and you bit your bottom lip gently before striding back over to him, “God, I love you.” Your breath caught in your throat after the last word and you froze. With widened eyes, you refused to meet his gaze. 
There was a long pause that felt much longer than it probably was. But very quietly you heard his voice, “Wait, you love me?”
You paused again, but put on your big girl panties and turned to him slowly. “I always have.”
His eyes watched you closely for a moment, and then he moved to you so smoothly. His lips brushed against yours for a moment before he pulled away, but went in for another. 
“I love you, too,” he murmured gently just as your lips parted. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach before he held his arm out for you once more. “Let’s go carve some pumpkins.” He smiled at you, and this time you knew it was different. It was a smile of contentment. Like everything he had needed, had come to fruition in that moment. 
“Let’s,” you beamed back at him as you tucked your arm through his. He leaned towards you for one more kiss before you made your way to the pumpkin carving station. While you weren’t sure what this meant or how your life was about to change, it didn’t matter at that moment. You had pumpkins, apple cider, haunted houses and Dean Winchester at your fingertips. And with that, you couldn’t think of a more perfect autumn evening.
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Thanks for reading!
Tag List: @jackles010378 @ladysparkles78 @hallecarey1 @zepskies @lyarr24
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jackles010378 · 4 months
Text
A Prank Gone Wrong...........
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(Dean Winchester X you)
Dean decides to play a prank on you based on a fear you have, but it goes horribly wrong.........................
Dean was always one for a good prank. He would prank Sammy when they were younger. He had a mischievous glint in his eye and a knack for knowing exactly what buttons to push to get a reaction. And when it came to his girlfriend, Y/N, he had discovered a secret fear that he just couldn't resist exploiting.
Y/N had faced down all manner of monsters and demons with bravery and skill, but there was one thing that sent shivers down her spine and made her scream like a banshee - spiders. Dean couldn't understand it, how someone so fierce and fearless could be brought to their knees by a tiny arachnid. But he was determined to have his fun, just this once.
It was a quiet evening at the bunker when Dean devised his plan. The two hunters had successfully banished a particularly nasty spirit, and Dean saw the opportunity to finally play his prank. After every monster Y/N had fought off, he always plagued her about being scared of spiders. He figured it was time to give her a taste of her own medicine.
Just before Y/N went to have her much-needed shower, Dean carefully placed a realistic-looking fake spider on the bathroom floor. He couldn't help but grin, imagining her reaction when she discovered it. Little did he know, this prank was about to take a serious turn.
Y/N entered the bathroom, exhausted and longing for the soothing feel of hot water on her tired muscles. As she turned on the faucet, she failed to notice the fake spider lurking just below. With a deep breath, she stepped forward, inadvertently planting her foot directly on top of the prop.
What happened next was something neither of them could have anticipated. The prop spider, designed to merely startle and maybe evoke a scream, had sharp edges that dug into Y/N's foot as she unknowingly stepped on it. The pain was sudden and intense, causing her to stumble and lose her balance.
Y/N let out a cry of pain as she crashed into the bathroom counter, hitting her head hard against the edge. In a daze, she collapsed to the floor, clutching her injured foot and struggling to stay conscious. Dean heard her screams and chuckled to himself, waiting for her to come storming down the hallway to shout at him, but she never came. Dean waited a few seconds more and grew worried. Running down the hall to the bathroom Y/N was using he was shocked at the sight before him.
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"Y/N! Are you okay?" Dean frantically asked, kneeling down beside her.
She winced, tears streaming down her face as she struggled to respond. "No, Dean, it really hurts. What the hell was that?!"
Dean's face turned pale as he realized the prank had gone terribly wrong. He cursed himself for not considering the consequences of his actions. "I'm so sorry, Y/N, I didn't think this through. Let me help you."
He gently lifted Y/N into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom, ignoring the fake spider that lay forgotten on the floor. He laid her down on the bed and hurriedly fetched the first aid kit, doing his best to tend to her injuries.
As the pain slowly subsided and the shock began to wear off, Y/N looked up at Dean with a mix of pain and forgiveness. "I... I know you didn't mean for this to happen. But please, no more pranks involving spiders."
Dean nodded solemnly, guilt weighing heavily on him. He knew he had crossed a line, and he vowed to make it up to her. From that day on, Dean became Y/N's fierce protector, ensuring that no harm would ever come to her again, even unintentionally.
As days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, Y/N's foot healed, but their bond grew stronger. They faced countless monsters together, each time with Dean by her side, ready to slay any spider or otherwise that threatened her peace of mind.
And as for pranks? Well, let's just say that Dean learned his lesson. The only scare he ever gave Y/N after that was the occasional jump scare during a horror movie night, where she could always find solace in his arms.
I could imagine Dean doing something like this 😂 but then taking care of you straight after 🥰
TAGLIST: @k-slla @cevansbaby-dove @kaleldobrev @janineb86 @deans-daydream @alternativeprincess94 @nescavaneck
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