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#Dean Winchester Series
deepinsonder · 1 year
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Simple Man, Dean Winchester x reader
Pairings: Dean winchester x female!reader
Warnings: Cuteness
Tags: Fluff
Summary: Dean never thought he’d be one to appricate the small touches you give him, but he loves it more than he cares to admit.
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10:00 am
You were tired, not for any reason but the cold air around you. You exited you and Deans shared room, with a blanket folded on your arms and your computer.
You weren’t sure where Dean was but at least you knew Sam would be huddled at the table, researching cases to wits end. Making your way through the brick laid bunker, your feet padded on the cold concrete floors.
“Sam,” you said in a sing song voice, before you came to the library area. As you looked up, you met eyes with a tired looking Sam, you knew he wasn’t sleeping well but you also knew he took care of himself better than anyone could.
“Hey,” He said, before turning his eyes back onto the screen in front of him.
“Where’s Dean?” You asked, placing your laptop at the table across from Sam and your blanket on the chair.
“Kitchen,” Sam said, still clicking away on his computer, you sighed and made your way to the kitchen, the chills were getting to you, perhaps you should have layered up more.
As you arrived in the kitchen, you noticed a hunched over Dean staring at a book in front of him.
“Hey handsome,” you said walking up to him, he turned around and gave you the same smile he always did - the one that reminded you how lucky you are to be loved by Dean Winchester.
“Morning, Sweetheart,” Dean said, turning his body, anticipating the hug you always gave him in the mornings - Dean never thought he’d be the type of man to like being hugged but every morning when he would wake up before you, he counted the minutes until you eventually found him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
You walked up to him, and pressed your body against his, breathing in the scent as you lifted yourself by the tiptoes and held him - Dean wrapped his arms around your back and mumbled a quiet “i love you” into the nape of your neck.
“What are you up to today?” You asked, lightly pulling yourself away from him to look up into his eyes, his smile caused the lines around his eyes to crinkled as he looked down at you.
“Was waiting for you to decide,” He said, bringing his face in to kiss your lips. Your soothing hand touched his cheek as he continued to smile against your lips.
“There’s a farmers market, half an hour from here - we could go check it out?” You said, breaking away from your embracing and picking up a glass cup to get a drink of water.
“A farmers market?” Dean asked with a small groan.
“Yep,” you said with the pop of your lips, leaning your back against the kitchen counters, the cool metal pressed through the fabric of the t-shirt you were wearing.
“Okay, I’ll get ready,” he said, with a nod as he began to clean up the mess he had made on the counters. You giggled at how quickly he agreed to go with you, normally you’d have to plead but today he was in a good mood you figured.
You came up beside him and placed a small kiss against his upper arm before turning around and walking toward your room.
11:00 am
You were glad you layered up because the cold air hit you like a brick. You breathe turned cold as the air froze around you. Dean opened the car door for you before opening his own and taking a seat, turning up the heater.
You took a seat and turned the radio on, blasting his favourite Led Zeppelin song. He smiled at you before turning around to back out of the garage.
“I need to get some ugly sweaters,” You said, turning your body to face Dean, bringing your you legs to cross on the seat.
“What why?” Dean asked, scrunching up his face him faux disgust.
“For Sam- he’s been working really hard, lately,” You said, taking Dean’s hand from the gear stick and onto your lap, you held his cold palms against your own, rubbing them together to warm you both up.
Dean chuckled at your remark, the thought of Sam in a stupid sweater made you both smile.
He wrapped his fingers through yours giving them a little squeeze as his smile grew, silence consumed the car as you played with his fingers. He would occasionally turn his head to look at you as you met eyes with him and smiled back.
11:45 am
You and Dean stepped out of the car, the cold air wondered around you as you made your way over to him. You took his hand in yours and huddled up close to him, to keep you both warm. You wished the scarf around your neck was thicker as you walked toward the stalls with a glint of anticipation in your eyes.
Picking up the first green and red sweater you saw, you decided it was perfect. Dean pulled out his wallet and handed the shop owner at 10 dollar bill before placing an arm around your shoulders.
“We should get some fresh eggs,” You said, leading you and Dean toward the chicken coups, where there were cartons of eggs displayed.
“Two, thanks” Dean said to the shop owner as he paid and you watched him bag the cartons.
“You look handsome today,” You said, admiring his face and furrowed eyebrows.
“I always look handsome,” He mumbled, with a coy smile playing on his lips. You brought your lips to his as you kissed the smile of his face, “and you always look beautiful,” his comment made you blush - your cheeks turned more red than they already were.
“What else do you need,” You asked, wrapping your arms around his waist.
“Let’s just look around,” He smiled against your forehead.
For the remainder of the market, Dean watched, lovingly, as you bought things and picked things up. He hadn’t had many perfect days but today was probably the best he’d had in a long time. He would never admit it to you but when you touched him, his hands, his face - he felt more loved than he had in a long time.
He didn’t need much to be happy but you gave him so more than you would ever know. He was a simple man, he didn’t need much but he knew he would always need you.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 7 months
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The Princess & The Playboy Masterlist
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Summary: NFL Quarterback Dean Winchester has had his eyes set on Y/N Y/L/N since their college days. Back then he didn't have a shot with her and twelve years later he has even less of one given his never ending string of girlfriends. Y/N's a classy girl and she'd never go for someone as cocky as Dean. But they share a unique source of pain and maybe he can get her to see past the flirt long enough to see the real him...
Pairing: NFL Quarterback!Dean x Pop Star!reader
Word Count: 45K
Warnings: language, angst, family trauma/loss, kidnapping
A/N: This series is complete!
_____
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
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bccky · 9 months
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Souls Intertwined By Fate
Part 3
Pairing:  Dean Winchester X Reader
Summary: As soulmates, you can feel the exact intensity of pain as your other half when they get hurt. So what happens when your soulmate literally goes to hell?
Words: 1418
Warnings: descriptions of death, mention of suicide, angst, full discretion is adviced
A/N: Sorry for the wait, but it's finally here! You and Dean finally meet, and the world you've just settled into threatens to give in // Dividers by @firefly-graphics // hope you like this one Xx
⇤ PART 2
Supernatural Masterlist • Main Masterlist
Souls Intertwined By Fate Masterlist
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From the moment you had left Ellen's bar, you had felt a unique kind of dread, the emptiness in your heart widening with each step you took away from the person you had destined to be with. 
But it is the best for both of you, that you are sure of. 
You don't hesitate to admit that you are selfish to try to save yourself from prospective heartbreak or have the possibility of going through what your mother had gone through, especially when you now knew that he was a hunter as well. 
"Morning, Y/N." Chris mutters with a quick kiss to your neck as he hugs you from behind. 
"Good morning." You smile as you turn and close the gap between your lips. You were making coffee after getting up from the bed you share with Chris, and this has become a new normal for you. 
It has been a couple of weeks since you landed in the small town of New Harmony, Indiana.
Excluding a few aches, cuts and bruises that aren't visible or have a cause, you have had no interactions with the supernatural - willingly keeping off from reading news or watching it on the TV.
You know your intuitions won’t help pick off the signs of those activities in the world, you're just going to ignore it.
Well, you did investigate Old Neil's Cabin, and having found that he hasn't hurt anyone yet, you let him be - but not before making a note on where he is buried. 
It's a simple start to the day as it has been for a while now, and for some reason, there remains a feeling that something is wrong - or better yet, something is missing.
Still, as you help around Chris’ family diner and motel, there remains the familiar signs of adrenalin rush that you know come from hunting, even when you’re doing something as mundane as getting a plate of fries to the customers.
There is random quickening of your heartbeat, and the dreams of his green eyes, when you’ve only seen them once.
So in this quaint little town, the sun dips below the horizon once more, casting a warm glow across the streets. Your break from the hunting life gave you a little bit of solace in this peaceful corner of the world. The semblance of normalcy feels like a weird sense of relief.
And today, it just seems like it will be happier than many before.
Meanwhile, Dean Winchester, the ever-determined hunter, was on the road once again with Sam beside him. This time, he is a little serious - with the short time frame of his inevitable death hanging over his head. 
But he is happy today, it's his birthday today, and Sam got him a box of little things, from his favorite aftershave to a smart-looking watch.
He feels a little guilty while thanking him because he doesn't trust him enough to keep a secret from Ruby, he hasn’t told his brother about his soulmate yet. 
He doesn’t want to know what limits the demons will test with someone they can hurt him with, even without getting a hold of him.
“I’m hungry.” Sam complains while reading a newspaper. 
“I’ll pull up to the next diner I see.” Dean says. “Besides, it's been too long since I got a belly full of something cheesy.”
“You had a lunch full of cholesterol yesterday, Dean.” Sam reprimands him with a shake of his head.
Dean’s stomach rumbles just in time as a reply to Sam’s comment. “Let’s find some food in this town.”
Some time later, they come across a diner, and Dean wastes no time hauling up next to it. The bell above the door tinkles as they enter.
“Finally.” Dean mutters, glancing around the diner. It isn't overly crowded, probably just a few locals scattered across the booths. He spots an empty seat by the window and starts walking towards it, Sam following closely.
As Dean studies the menu, Sam leans across the table. “You know, man, you’ve been acting a bit weird lately. Anything you wanna talk about?”
Dean sighs, trying to avoid this conversation. “Not today.” And with efforts to do so, he averts his eyes, flitting them across the diner.
But then, his eyes lock onto a waitress, her seeming oddly recognizable. He swallows hard, torn between his instinct to approach and the fear of her reaction.
“Dean?” Sam’s voice pulls him from his trance. “You okay?”
He shakes his head, plastering on a faint smile to mask his nervousness. “Yeah, just lost in thought.”
“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” Sam comments.
You smile at Ellie as you get her order, a usual patron of the diner. You feel unusually happy today, and while you don’t know the reason why, you don't want to jinx it and so you just go on about your day.
Then your heart starts beating rapidly again, but the palpitations aren’t what you are used to.
You turn with furrowed eyebrows and closed eyes. When you open them, they find green ones - to be more precise, those from your dreams.
Time stands still, and recognition flashes between you two - a connection stronger than memory, a bond forged through shared emotions. Your breath hitches, your soulmate is sitting right in front of you.
You don’t know what to do, and while your heart wants to stay, your brain decides to run away. And so, you hurry through the side door of the diner.
“I’ll be right back,” Dean announces and rushes right after you, leaving Sam with no second thought.
You’re there, standing against the wall under the streetlamp in the back alley, your hand against your chest. The night falls, and you look like an angel glowing in the yellow light.
When your eyes join, your hearts start thumping in a turbo-mode and neither of you know if it's because of the bond or due to the other's presence.
“Hi.” Dean whispers, not knowing what else to say.
“Hello,” You whisper back, not wanting to break the bubble that has formed around the two of you.
The traffic from the main road has quietened down, as has the chatter from the busy diner, and all you’re aware of is this beautiful specimen of a man, and your conniving heart which has finally won against your brain.
“How are you?” Dean wants to hit himself just as the words leave his mouth. But then again, what are you supposed to say to your soulmate when you come face to face for the first time?
“I’m good. What about you?” You ask, a smile appearing on his face that you cannot help but match him. And my god, the crinkles that frame his eyes.
“I guess I’m good too - now that I met you.” Both of you laugh, and when your heart finally allows your brain to speak, you start drowning in anxiety, leaving you speechless again.
Everything that you’ve been running from, everything you left behind and everything that you’re up against is on his feet, just a few feet in front of you. Your soulmate.
While it feels like it has been decades, it has been only minutes.
Before you can conjure up a sentence, the side doors open with a thud - and Chris appears, looking tense.
“Everything all right here, Y/N?” Chris asks, staring at Dean as if to determine if there are any signs of aggression, and then settling on you to ensure that you’re fine. “Ellie told me to check up on you.”
His posture straight and hands in a fist, almost like he’s getting ready to fight, fight for you. 
The men stand tall with chests puffed, nearly similar in height as they both try to intimidate each other.
You nod, hoping to calm him. “It’s okay, Chris, this is -” you stop there, not knowing his name.
“Dean,” the man completes. You sheepishly smile at him before turning to Chris.
“Chris, this is Dean, my… My soulmate.” Saying it leaves an unnatural taste in your mouth,
You see his features turn from hostility into those of apprehension as he replies, his eyes narrowed. “I see…”
“Please give me a few minutes, Chris, I’ll come find you.” He gives you one final look, asking indirectly if you’re sure, and you nod with reassurance before he leaves.
“So Y/N, is it?” Dean asks, and you bite your lip.
“Yup. I guess we have a lot to talk about.” 
Part 4 (Coming Soon on Tumblr/ Read it on BuyMeACoffee Now!)
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I’d love to hear what you think of it! Please like, reblog and comment to let me know Xx
I just started a BuyMeACoffee Page where you can read Chapter 4 right now! Its kind of an emotional one where you have a difficult conversation which will determine where you will go from here.
My BMAC Page also has the first chapter of a new Dean Winchester X Reader story with the following summary: Best friends Dean and Y/N navigate a world of supernatural challenges and unspoken feelings. Sam, the ever observant brother, and Cas, the ever puzzled angel of the lord, discreetly encourage their romance through late-night talks, teasing, and shared hunts. As tension builds and emotions simmer beneath the surface, their journey unfolds through this story.
READ IT HERE- SECRETS OF A HUNTER'S HEART
Find out what else I offer on my buymeacoffee page - HERE
It's okay if you can't support me monetory-wise right now, even reblogging my fics help a lot!
Tags in reblog, either comment or reblog this fic if you wanna be tagged in the next part Xx
Thank you so much for your support ♥
Yours Truly,
Vee 💕
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waynes-multiverse · 6 days
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Plastic Hearts – Part 24
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Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, language, weed, smut, fluff, angst, more heartbreak
Word Count: 6.9k
A/N: Can't believe this is the second to last part. Our boy has come far 🥲🤍 If you look closely, you catch a couple of throwbacks. Also, tons of funny moments ahead with some severe stabbing of the heart on the side (last time, tho – I promise 🤞)
<< 23 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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24. Don't Dream It's Over
“Smoke that bong! Smoke that bong! Smoke that bong…”
Y/N hears the girls chanting and giggling as she hops into the common room of the motel on her crutches. She laughs a little as she finds the women in a circle, strewn all over the four couches as they pass a bong back and forth between them. The air is filled with smoke and reeks of reefer – a typical Friday night at the Dusty Spur.
“I thought this was a team meeting about finale ideas,” she teases with a slightly scolding eyebrow and finds a seat on the dingy carpet next to Jo, leaning her crutches against the couch and clumsily lowering herself to the floor with a grunt.
“We are. We just needed a little help with the brainstorming,” Ruby assures innocently and holds the bong out to her with a daring smirk. “Pipe down, Captain!”
Y/N snorts in amusement, shaking her head. “Guys, no. I don’t do drugs.”
“C’mon, last chance. You’re gonna be a cool kid and finally smoke with us or not?” Ruby’s grin widens as she seductively wiggles her eyebrows with a demonic glint.
Y/N sighs, sending her a raised look that’s a bit playful in nature and less chiding than it usually would’ve been. “That feels like peer pressure,” she notes but then smiles coyly. Honestly, after the night she’s had, she could use a little fun and forgetting. “But alright. Gimme that bong.”
Some of the girls holler and cheer as Ruby passes her the bong and even lights it for her while she takes a deep inhale. Jesus fucking Christ, the cloud of smoke blows straight to her head, her throat scratching with a cough. She already feels lighter as if she’s floating through the fabric of the universe.
“You’re a natural. Never been fucking prouder,” Ruby says with a dirty grin and hands the bong to Alex next. Honestly, that girl might have escaped straight from hell.
Jo snorts as she looks at Y/N’s widely blown pupils before her eyes land on the blue and green bruises that decorate her neck and clavicle. “You’ve got something there,” the blonde deadpans, gesturing with an arched brow to Y/N’s throat.
Flustered, Y/N swiftly pulls the collar of her jeans jacket higher, trying to hide the evidence on her skin. “Probably just fell weird or something…”
“Fell in what? A pit full of leeches?”
Y/N bashfully ignores Jo’s teasing and clears her throat. “Sorry I’m late. Those crutches really slow me down.”
But Jo throws her a knowing look. “You’re late ‘cause you’re boning Dean. Own it.”
“What, no…” Y/N scoffs. It’s probably her worst performance to date.
“You haven’t slept here in four weeks. Everyone knows,” Jo says bluntly, watching her friend’s cheeks redden with embarrassment and a trace of panic.
“They do?”
Jo then looks to the group, speaking louder. “Guys? Who here knows about Y/N and Dean?”
Several hands raise without a twitch of surprise on their faces. In fact, they even seem bored by the news.
“Duh,” Ruby says to drive the point home.
“Wait, Dean?” Charlie seems bewildered for a moment before she sighs and pulls out a $50 bill, handing it to a victoriously grinning Ruby. “Dammit.”
“Thank you,” party girl says happily and pockets the money before a few other girls hand her money as well. “Pay up, bitches!”
Y/N’s brow furrows in suspicion and some offense. “Were you guys betting on me?”
“No,” Missouri sings in nonchalance. “We were betting on who you were doing it with. Some of us thought it was Benny, some Dean.”
Y/N gasps as she watches Billie pull out her money as well. “You too?”
Billie shrugs unapologetically. “For the record, I thought your slutty ass was doin’ both of ‘em. Donna even thought you were doing them at the same time.”
You gape at the blonde in shock. “Donna!”
“A girl can dream,” is all Donna says with a twitch of her shoulders.
“I knew it was Dean,” Meg tells you. “I could smell his cologne on you. You also smelled like dick and sex.”
“Unbelievable,” Y/N mutters under her breath, feeling quite speechless. Another part of her feels relieved, though. No one seems to be mad at her. In fact, the girls all seem to digest the news quite well.
There’s suddenly an odd feeling festering in her heart, and her mind wanders back to Dean and the dance, wondering what he’s doing right now. But she fights the part of her that urges her to go back and be in his arms again. Has he been trying to tell her what she thinks he has? Was he about to say–
“You okay?” Jo’s voice hauls her back into the present moment.
“Fine,” Y/N says quietly, shrugging it off. Her eyes then search for Ruby. “Can I have that bong back please?”
Ruby smirks all too happily. “Of course. Look at you!”
As Y/N takes another hit to blast her sorrows into a cloud of reefer, Bela storms upset into the commons. The girls look at her worriedly as she plops down on the couch next to Cassie and pouts.
“I’m getting deported. Your government told me to leave the country in thirty days. I don’t want to go back to England and my awful parents,” Bela groans with a miserable look and crosses her arms as she sinks further into the couch cushions. “What am I going to do?”
“You could marry an American,” Donna suggests half-jokingly.
“Who?” Bela asks wryly with a roll of her eyes and throws her arms into the air. “You think it’s that easy to get a man to marry you?”
Y/N’s eyes widen, the weed hitting her fully. It feels a little like she’s floating outside of her body. “Oooh! Chucky!”
Jo lifts a brow at her suggestion. “Her pathetic stalker fanboy?”
“No! Fuck no!” Ruby huffs, vividly shaking her head. “I mean, perfect solution and no, I don’t have a better idea, but fucking no! The guy is a weird loser.”
“Yes! Marry the weird stalker loser and then divorce him once you’ve got your green card,” Y/N proposes, her red eyes only growing wider. She then gasps as if a giant lightbulb went on in her hazy brain. “Oh my God! Our final show! Season 1, it’s time for a wedding!”
“Not the worst idea,” Billie agrees and glances at Bela, who purses her lips in thought. She doesn’t seem convinced yet, though.
“Cambridge, heartbroken after she discovers Mick is a mannequin after all, finds true love in the arms of her number one fan, Chuck Shurley,” Y/N pitches excitedly, while Jo stifles a laugh next to her, hiding half her face in her blouse. “We’ll pull out all the stops, and you guys get married in the ring! You’re Chucky’s bride! You can finally ride in on a horse!”
Bela sways her head pensively from left to right. “Loving the idea a little more…” She giggles in nervous excitement. “I’ve always wanted a horse. You think Dean will go for it?”
“I’ll make him!” Y/N promises eagerly. Jo’s lips part for a moment, wanting to say something, but then she closes her mouth again.
Ruby raises a brow and deadpans, “How you’re gonna do that? Blow him?”
Y/N almost laughs hysterically. “Yes! This is our finale, you guys! I’m so fucking high! I’m overflowing with genius ideas! Now, I know why Dean does this all the time. Can I have more?”
Jo snorts a laugh, greatly amused. She shakes her head. “Oh no, you’re cut off…”
Even Ruby nods in agreement for once.
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Y/N’s been MIA for two days when Dean strolls back into the gym on Monday morning after a really shitty weekend. Claire left with Lisa, but at least he managed to convince her to let his daughter visit during summer vacations and some holidays. He insisted on Halloween, which didn’t receive any protest from Lisa, and promised Claire they’d watch tons of slasher movies together. And when his kid left with tears in her eyes, he might have cried a little, too. Not that he’d admit that to anyone.
Y/N, on the other hand, hasn’t called once or even sent a damn smoke signal, so neither has he. She hasn’t slept over for the first time in goddamn weeks, leaving him cold turkey. So, Dean drank till he passed out on the bed and forgot that her side was depressingly empty while Phil Collins’ A Groovy Kind of Love played on repeat. It was a fucking new low for him in terms of musical taste. He didn’t do drugs, though, and was real proud of himself, considering all the emotional turmoil he’s currently going through.
His skin tingles, nerves sizzling with every step closer to the bleachers. His heart jumps out of his chest with excitement as soon as his green eyes spy Y/N in the ring with Billie and Donna. She looks absolutely stunning. For a moment, he forgets how to breathe before he shakes it off and finds a seat next to Jo, who’s already been impatiently waiting for him.
“We know what you’re thinking, ‘How can she wrestle with a cast?’” Billie throws out rhetorically, all of it feeling eerily like a high school presentation. What’s next? A fucking diorama? Dean knows they’re trying to help Y/N, but he’s already anticipating a bit of a disastrous train wreck.
“I’m the novelty act!” Y/N announces and tries to sell it with a proud grin. God, she’s so fucking cute, and it’s hot all the same. He loves when she gets all nerdy and desperate. It feels a little like a throwback to the time he met her.
“Yes, people love watching someone beat the odds. It’s an underdog story,” Donna adds. Honestly, Dean feels slightly like he accidentally switched on the home shopping channel, expecting them to sell him some broken crap shortly that he doesn’t need and will then rot in a closet somewhere in his house.
“Alright. Take it away. Let’s get this over with,” Dean tells them with a small sigh, ready to placate his not-girlfriend, who actually might not even be his not-girlfriend anymore. She’s his not-not-girlfriend.
The girls then start, and Jesus fuck, it’s not good. Dean can hardly believe they have even worked on this for weeks, but he knows they did. Y/N’s told him as much. He then notices how Jo sinks lower in her seat, her brow creasing and twitching, jaw clenching and lips pressing into a thin line.
“Oh my God, it’s all so slow and weird,” the blonde whispers only loud enough so he can hear. He usually doesn’t agree with her, but…
“Yeah, that’s why I tell her to just lie there whenever we… Never mind.” The green-eyed director clears his throat when Joanna sends him a chiding glare.
But truthfully, having sex with Y/N in a cast has been a bit of a challenge. He mostly just pushes her into a position and makes her do a little role-play without moving around too much. Fuck, he can’t believe he won’t get to nail her in all her moving glory once that cast comes off. It feels a little like a cosmic joke. Yes, you can finally have her but only with broken parts. Dean can hear God laughing upstairs.
“Anyways, she really wants to wrestle,” the director explains sympathetically, keeping one eye on the atrociously dreadful match in the ring for show. Sometimes, he smiles through his pain, too, and nods politely. The three seem to buy it so far. Maybe he should become an actor. “And the girls really want her to be in the ring, too…”
Jo groans under her breath and rolls her eyes quickly, not longer than a blink. She does her fake Miss America smile at her colleagues every once in a while. It’s not as good as Dean’s, though. “You’re weak,” she hisses snappily. “Y/N’s gonna be fine. She deserves the truth.”
Well, by that logic, Dean should also tell her he loves her, and that’s just a ridiculous idea.
“We can’t deliver a match like this. We’ve got network executives coming,” Joanna reminds him and makes a little more sense now. Dammit. Her eyes flicker to the ongoing match with a shudder. “Dean, make it be over, please.”
Dean takes one more look, too, and sees Y/N clumsily tumble to the mat in slow-motion. “Yeah, alright!” Dean jumps up from his chair and raises his voice, taking a few steps closer to the ring. “I’m sorry, ladies, but it’s not… It’s just not working,” he says apologetically and sees Y/N’s face fall.
Oh God, he used to enjoy seeing that face once, all sad and disappointed, but now he just wants to hug her and tell her he’s here for her. Kiss it better. Maybe run her a bubble bath. Just make her happy, you know?
What the fuck happened to him?
“It’s about to pick up steam, I swear!” Donna exclaims, all panicked. At least, Y/N has found great and very loyal friends.
“What if I rip my cast off and land one last move?” Y/N presents her next idea with a dramatic hand gesture and an elevator-pitch smile. It’s like a villainous salesperson trying to sell snake oil. Ah, there it is – the desperate twinkle in her eyes is back.
It’s like walking down memory lane today.
Of course, Y/N would break every idiotic bone in her body to be in this stupid, stupid, stupid show one last time. But don’t worry, Dean’s not going to let her do that. He’s not as insane as you think he is.
“Yeah, let’s not do that.” He shakes his head, his lips pressed into a thin line.
Y/N blinks at him with puppy dog eyes and a fucking pout as she hops to the railing and leans on the ropes in her tiny leotard. “I might never wrestle again. I don’t wanna go out like this. Guys, please.” More pouting and begging. Where the fuck is he? Hell?! “Dean?”
The director glances back over his shoulder at Jo, close to whimpering. His eyebrows draw together, however, when the blonde mouths, “Weak.”
She shoots a small glare at Dean and clears her throat, looking at Y/N. “If we have a good enough show and get another network to sign us, you’ll have plenty of opportunities to tumble around the ring again,” Jo argues with a convincing smile. She’s so wise all of a sudden. Dean wishes he would get that much clarity from a single line of coke. Since the accident, she seems like a whole other person.
Well, a smidge different.
Y/N seems to accept that bit of wisdom as well, although she lowers her head with a sniffle. Dean even recognizes a few tears brimming in her eyes as she nods defeatedly.
Internally, he sighs. That used to make him happy, too. Back then, when he cut her during auditions and she looked like he was destroying all her hopes and dreams. Back when she hated him so much and that hatred lit up her eyes, stoking the glowing embers of fire inside them. But now, he doesn’t see that hatred and recognizes something else.
That something makes him smile. His heart flutters. She loves him too, doesn’t she? She might never say it, but he can feel it without words.
Dean then rubs his palms together, an idea hitting him. He knows his Alma, after all. She wants to be needed, so he’ll need her. “Alright, how about you’re with me, huh? Co-directing!”
Her face lights up like the brightest spotlight beam. He's this close to hanging her over the ring and save some money on electricity. “Really?”
Dean purses his lips, hiding his smile underneath it. She’s so fucking cute. “Yeah, I mean, you’re gonna do it anyway, so let’s just make it official, alright?”
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“Okay, imagine I’m the bride,” Dean says as he swoops through the ropes into the ring.
“Alright, picturing you in a white dress,” Y/N closes her eyes and teases, the tip of her tongue sticking out between her pink lips as she leans on her crutches.
The two of them had been working on the final episode for the last day, Y/N filling him in on her vision of a wrestling wedding. Then, Dean got to work and tried his hardest to make the magic happen. One good thing about co-directing with Y/N is that he can call as many meetings as he wants to under the pretense of the show.
The young actress still hasn’t stopped by his house yet or slept over, but at least he gets to spend the days with her. He actually loves the idea of a wedding. People surely are into that kind of shit – the love shit. And what’s a finale without some satisfying romance?
Dean scolds her with a look, playfully warning her. “Could we take this directors’ meeting seriously, please?”
Y/N hides her grin and gives him a nod. God, he’d love to spank her defiant ass right now.
“Okay, so, I’m the bride, standing right here underneath this beautiful arch in the middle of the ring, being all nervous…” Dean hears her snort a giggle before she stifles it when he sends her another admonishing little glare. The prop department (aka some of the girls) has built an obnoxiously pink balloon arch. “Alright, zoom in, and then bridesmaids are coming out one by one, sliding into the ring.”
“Bela will be riding in on a white horse, by the way,” Y/N declares more than she asks permission. “We’ll make it look like a unicorn.”
Dean curls his lips. “Is that negotiable?”
She firmly shakes her head. “No.”
Y/N’s not usually this confident or disagreeable, so he knows she has most likely conjured up a character role inside her head. Dean probably could tear it apart and make her cave if he really tried, but he doesn’t care enough about a fucking horse to do so. Guess he’s gotta make someone rent a horse somewhere and bring it to the gym.
Benny.
“Okay, I’ll allow it. Keep the horse,” Dean agrees, smirking like the devil on the inside. “So, who’s gonna give the bride away?”
“Why do we need someone to give her away?” Y/N shrugs. “Kinda sexist. She’s not a possession.”
“C’mon, you’re a pastor’s daughter. This is weddings 101.” Dean shakes his head in incredulity. You’d think a woman knows something like that.
Y/N snorts in amusement. “You would know, Mr. Divorced Twice.”
“Ha ha.” Dean narrows his eyes with a warning look. “I thought you girls fantasized about this shit your whole life.”
“Not me. That’s a gross generalization,” Y/N says and holds herself up by the ropes as she slides her crutches into the ring and follows them shortly after. Dean waits patiently till she’s back on her feet and sticks, standing next to him underneath the balloon arch. “I think we need a platform and some stairs leading up with an aisle through the bleachers.”
“Yes!” Dean agrees eagerly as they play off ideas and plan a fucking wedding of all things. He never would've thought they'd do it this soon. However, brainstorming with his Alma has always been his favorite part. Y/N’s still and forever will be his goddamn muse. “A platform, so everyone can get a good look at what true love looks like.”
His heart twinges as he looks at her and the way she smiles and gnaws on her bottom lip, swaying on her crutches. When has she gotten so close to him? He can smell her deliciously seductive perfume and feel her inviting and irresistible warmth. She’s so goddamn close that he could kiss her right now if he really wanted to. And fuck, does he want to.
The director subtly clears his throat, continuing, “Alright, next is, you know, vows… declarations of love… how they can’t live without one another.” His forest-green eyes find hers. He swallows thickly and takes a step closer. His heart skips a beat, and he can tell hers did, too. She sucks in a breath. “You know, fiction,” he adds and grins wryly. Y/N tilts her head, throwing him a look that says she doesn’t buy into his cynicism. Probably for the best since it’s all bullshit, anyways. “And then…”
“They kiss?” Y/N beguilingly smiles up at him, her eyes flashing to his lips. This time, it’s her who steps closer, her body only inches away from his at this point.
A soft smile forms on his freckled face. He dips his head, his fingers reaching underneath her chin and lifting her lips to his. They brush against each other for a few palpitating heartbeats before she parts her mouth and lets him slip inside. His massive hands roam from her cheeks to her neck and down her sides and waist and back up again. Her crutches fall to the mat by her sides as she locks her arms around him and seeks support on his body instead.
He kisses a path along her jawline and back to her ear, his teeth scraping her lobe. His hands hold her close by her waist and dent the taut flesh there. “Little risky, isn’t it? Since when are you okay with gym PDA?” he teases, his gravelly voice sending shivers down her spine.
Y/N chuckles softly and seeks his lips again, kissing him once, twice before she looks into his eyes, the tips of their noses touching. “They kinda already know.”
Amused, baffled, and most of all happy, Dean arches a brow. “Really?”
His heart melts onto the fucking butterflies in his belly till they’re screeching. Maybe he doesn’t need a wrecking ball and a bulldozer to conquer her heart by force. Maybe all it takes to win her over is just a billion tiny baby steps and a plethora of patience. The only problem with that is that Dean can hear the clock ticking away his precious time. There are only two days left till the final show and an impending goodbye.
Y/N nods without a sliver of panic. “Yeah, it sorta came out during our finale meeting. I took drugs.”
Dean blinks in sheer amazement. “I’m sorry, what? You were fun for once, and I missed it?” he teases, earning him a playful slap of his arm.
“Yeah, I smoked a bong and got high,” Y/N tells him with a clandestine grin like she’s sharing a secret only meant for his ears alone.
The green-eyed director snorts, however. “A bong? Reefer? Sweetheart, that barely counts as a drug.”
Y/N gasps, bewildered. “Sure it does! It’s illegal, Dean.”
“You’re such a nerd.” He grins down at her and cups her cheeks, pulling her back to his lips. His mouth wanders down to the column of her throat and the fading bruise there, sucking a new one into her skin. He’s so busy he doesn’t even hear the gym door open.
“Hey boss, might wanna focus that Hoover vacuum somewhere else. Like her clit,” Ruby hollers, laughing loudly as she passes the ring with a few other girls on their way to the changing rooms.
Y/N snorts into his chest, laughing as well. She tries to curb it, but her whole body is shaking in his arms. For weeks, Dean wanted the girls to finally know about them, so he could kiss her whenever and wherever he wanted to. He should’ve known that wish would come with a steep price.
The director heaves a sigh and caresses her cheekbone. “Wanna continue this meeting in my office?”
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“Fuck,” Dean groans, his breath tickling the shell of her ear. He slows his thrusts a little, trying to rein himself in before he blows his entire load. He adjusts her legs around his waist and pulls her a few inches closer to the edge of his desk with a bruising grip on her hips.
“You need to hurry up. The show starts in ten minutes,” Y/N reminds him, giggling softly.
Hungrily, he claims her lips and kisses her breathless. “You need to come first.”
Y/N shakes her head before it falls back with a moan when his lips trail a wet path down her throat. “I already came four times. I’m tapped out.”
“Nah, I don’t buy it. I’m not stopping till you wet my dick again, sweetheart,” he threatens with a playful smirk. “So, if you want us to be punctual…”
Dean’s hand dives between them and pushes her leotard further out of the way till his fingers reach her clit properly. Although she’s not performing tonight, he still made her dress up in full hair, make-up, and costume. One, so he could fuck her exactly like this. And two, he still has a surprise in store for her that will surely get him his cock sucked later tonight.
He pushes deeply back inside her, slow and steady strokes of his cock that match the circles on her sensitive flesh. Y/N’s whimpers grow louder, her pussy grips him tighter, and her nails dig deeper into his shoulders.
“Oh shit, Dean! Fuck, that’s it…”
Y/N’s last orgasm is violent as she screams. He can tell it even hurt a little by the sheer force her cunt squeezes his dick. It’s not the small, regular pulses that happen with the first few. This climax feels more like an epileptic spasm, almost causing her to pass out as tears sting her eyes.
Dean can’t restrain himself any longer and spills into her throbbing pussy with a primal cry. When she’s steady enough, his hands let go of her hips and brush her cheeks, pressing kisses to her panting and pink lips.
He rests his sweaty forehead against hers and smiles crookedly. “Last night… You wanna come over to my place after the show? Have dinner with me, enjoy a few drinks?”
“Sounds good,” Y/N agrees and kisses him softly.
As soon as he slips out of her, the young actress then eagerly puts on her headphones and makes herself comfortable in his chair by the monitors, Dean taking a stand behind her. He honestly can’t help the proud grin on his face as he watches her. She��s come so fucking far.
“It’s a full house today. I think we’ve made something that people really love,” Y/N notes with a smile curving her features. It’s almost melancholic in nature. They both know it’s make or break tonight.
“Good. It’ll look great for the suits,” Dean says and leans his palms on the backrest of her chair, looking over her head at the screens.
“Crowley’s here, too.”
The green-eyed director groans slightly at that. “Maybe he came to apologize for being a spineless dickhead. Still can’t believe he left you alone in that hotel room. Probably should’ve bashed his car, too…” he grumbles.
Y/N’s brow raises as she finds his eyes over her shoulder. “Who’s car did you bash?”
“Uh…” Shit. “Dickbreath’s,” he confesses.
Y/N’s face softens. “Really? Why?”
Dean only throws her a look that says, ‘You know fucking why.’
“For me?”
“Yeah. Of course for you,” Dean tells her and pecks her crown affectionately. She smiles gratefully up at him, her eyes watery. He rolls his at her sentimentality, albeit his heart bawls in his ribcage out of sheer happiness. “Get to work. Don’t fuck this up.”
Y/N only snorts at his feigned sternness, not taking him seriously in the slightest. “Alright, boss.”
The music then starts with the classic Wedding March as the first bridesmaids slide into the ring in matching pink and gold leotards. Joanna’s character is, of course, the maid of honor and comes in last before Bela slowly rides down the aisle on a white horse with a pink glitter cone on its head.
“That horse better not shit in here,” Dean mutters and crosses his arms with a sternly knit brow.
“Oh, it’s definitely going to,” Y/N says with an amused chuckle.
Guess Dean will have to find some poor soul to clean all that shit up after the taping.
Benny.
“Where did you guys get that wedding dress from?” Dean asks curiously as he eyes the pompous and puffy princess puke with disdain.
“Oh, it’s Jo’s old one. We agreed to burn it in a dumpster in the parking lot after,” Y/N quips, laughing.
“So, you guys are really friends again?” Dean suspiciously quirks a brow. He hasn’t seen or heard anything to the contrary, but with these two you never know.
“Yeah, better than ever, actually.” Y/N smiles brightly. “She even offered to drive me to my audition in San Diego three days ago.”
“Hey! I was supposed to do that!”
The actress only shrugs. “You were busy.”
Dean purses his lips, his head bobbing. “So? How did it go?”
“Good, I think. They didn’t hate me straightaway. They even smiled. That’s-, uhm, that’s good, right?” With an insecure lip bite, she glances up at him.
Dean twitches his shoulders and gifts her a small smile of encouragement. “Yeah, maybe.”
He’d love to tell her she would surely land that role and hype her up like the best cheerleader in the country, but truth is, he doesn’t want to see her get crushed by the cruel machinery of Hollywood again. There are some things he can’t know nor control. Y/N’s career is one of those things. He wants to protect her heart, and in a way, he’s shielding her from too much disappointment.
“Yeah, I mean, I know I’m not gonna get it, so it’s fine,” she says as casually as possible and gulps, focusing back on the monitors in front of her. But Dean knows it’s a lie. She really seems to want it.
“What’s the part, anyway? You never told me.” Dean smiles interestedly. It feels a little surreal that, come tomorrow, she won’t walk through the doors of this gym anymore and work for him.
“Oh, uh, they’re doing a reimagining of fairytales. It’s pretty cool. I auditioned for Cinderella,” she tells him with bright excitement before trying to rein herself in again.
Admittedly, it sounds like the perfect fit. Evil step-sisters torturing her? She certainly has some experience in that department. Fucking great. Now, Dean’s got to muzzle his own excitement. He believes she might honestly get that stupid role.
“I object!”
Y/N and Dean stop the chitchatting and turn their strayed attention back to the sudden commotion in the ring. All they see is Bela standing with her fanboy underneath the balloon arch. Rufus is dressed in a priest costume and officiating, but then there’s also Cas, who swoops between the engaged couple and pulls Bela to the side.
“Garth, tighten up on this,” Y/N orders one of the camera operators as Dean puts his own headphones on, listening in.
There’s some vivid back and forth before Bela announces she won’t be marrying stalker fanboy Chucky, after all. She’s marrying Cas, instead.
“Fuck you! Fuck all of you! Love is fake, just like wrestling!” Chuck screams before the bridesmaids tackle him and throw him out of the ring. The crowd then does the rest and boos the guy out of the gym.
“Granted, this is some amazing television,” Dean notes but then shakes his head, furrowing his brow. “But what the fuck is Cas doing?”
“I don’t know.” Y/N snorts a laugh, amused, her eyes transfixed by the show below. “But Bela’s about to marry a millionaire without a prenup.”
Dean groans. “Oh Cas, you fucking idiot…”
As soon as the vows are exchanged, chaos ensues. The rules for tonight’s battle royal are: Whoever wins the bride’s bouquet, wins the plastic crown. It was Y/N’s idea.
“Y/N, stop humming Dammit Janet,” Dean warns her as soon as he hears the familiar melody again. She’s been doing it this whole week.
The girls then fall out of the ring one by one until only three remain: Joanna, Donna, and Meg.
“Hey, Benny, I want a close-up of Donna’s face as soon as she wins the crown,” Y/N commands into her microphone.
Dean laughs a little, his grin widening. “Oh, Donna’s not winning the crown.”
Her eyes dart to him, brow questioningly creasing. “Is Jo keeping it?”
Dean doesn’t answer her directly. Instead, he grabs her crutches. “Take your headphones off. That fuck before was enough warm-up, right? Ah, never mind. You'll be fine...” He quickly helps her to her feet as she keeps blinking at him in utter confusion. “C’mon, let’s go!”
Dean leads her outside the office and shows her to a zip line with a pulley, leading straight down to the ring. “Alright, don’t do some fancy shit and hurt yourself. Don’t make me regret this. Just catapult in with your foot out, okay? They all know you’re coming, so crown's yours.”
Y/N doesn’t say anything, but her lips begin to quiver before the first sob follows, a few tears escaping her eyes. She then hops over to him and slings her arms around his neck, crying softly into his chest.
“Okay, alright… Don’t fucking cry. You’re gonna be on TV. Get it together,” he reminds her firmly but can’t help the smile that flickers alive on his face. He rubs her back, hugging her briefly before he lets her go again.
But Y/N only stretches her neck and captures his lips in a passionate kiss. She steals his air right out of his lungs, her wet cheeks brushing his skin and beard. As she withdraws, her eyes find his, shimmering with words she can’t say out loud, although, for a heartbeat, Dean thinks she might. But she pecks his lips instead, her hands grabbing hold of the pulley.
Dean helps her onto the wooden railing and, upon her determined nod, gives her a little push. Cast first, she flies into the ring, the girls tumbling to the ground and rolling underneath the ropes like pins in a bowling alley.
Triumphantly, Y/N grabs the bouquet and takes a few victory laps around the ring before Rufus places the glittering plastic crown on her head. And while she jokes around and does her bit in full Russian persona, her grateful eyes never truly leave the director.
She flashes him a smile, and Dean knows then that he can’t keep it in any longer. It’s all or nothing, make or break tonight.
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“This is the best night ever,” Y/N sighs and snuggles herself deeper into his arms, her head lying on his chest as they sit on the loveseat on Dean’s backyard porch and enjoy the quiet chirping of cicadas and splashing of sprinklers on the suburban grass.
“Yeah,” Dean agrees with helter-skelter heartbeats. His fingers grasp her a little tighter as he rests his chin on her crown and inhales her scent, trying to memorize it in case he won’t get to smell it ever again.
It feels like they’re an old married couple, cuddling on the porch under blankets. If he didn’t know better, he’d think they’d been doing this for thirty years. And as Y/N pointed out, he’s already been married twice, so at this point in his life, he truly knows when something feels real and unique. When something needs to be cherished and protected. None of his previous marriages have felt anything like this.
“You think the meeting with the network executives tomorrow will go well?” Y/N asks, glancing up at him as he thoughtfully nurses his beer.
“Maybe, we’ll see,” he sighs and pecks the top of her head. “You girls still planning on going on that insane camping trip tomorrow?”
Y/N giggles. “It’s not insane! It’s supposed to be relaxing. Just us and nature. It’s our last hurrah if you will.”
“You know what else is relaxing? A spa,” Dean retorts. “You guys are no campers. One or more of you is gonna be eaten by a mountain lion or a coyote come Monday.”
“Wow, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Y/N laughs. “How can you still underestimate us after all this time?”
Dean only chuckles in amusement. “Sure you don’t want me to book you something in Palms Springs?”
“No,” Y/N insists, laughing. “I’m actually looking forward to this. I even got a trail map. I wanna go hiking.”
“Oh, yeah, that’s a sound decision, considering you’re on crutches.” Dean snorts, rubbing his temples. At least a rattlesnake won’t be able to bite through the damn cast on her leg.
“A small hike,” Y/N adjusts her answer. She then twists her head back and cups one cheek, bringing his lips to hers. As she pulls back, she bites her lower lip, a smirk visible underneath. “I think I’m ready for dessert now.”
Dean smiles gently but stops her hand from crawling down his jeans. Fuck, he should get a medal for this. “Hold on a second, okay?”
“Is everything okay? You always want sex.” She looks the same amount baffled as she does worried – like he just ran into the middle of the 101 completely naked after escaping Betty Ford.
“Yeah, no, I-, uh, I just wanna talk for a second, alright?” Dean swallows harshly but is by far not courageous enough to look at her yet. His hand covers hers, drawing small circles with his thumb on the back of it. It’s more for his comfort than hers.
“Oh-kay…” Y/N chuckles nervously, lifting an eyebrow.
“I don’t want this to end, Y/N. I wanna give this a shot,” Dean confesses bravely and finally meets her eyes. His shoulders feel a million tons lighter as the words rush out. He’s caged them for so long in his heart, it almost feels odd to set them free now.
“What d’you mean?” Y/N straightens in her seat a little, her brow creasing more and more with every passing second. He knows it might go horribly wrong at this point, but he needs to get it all out in the open. Shoot his goddamn shot before it’s all too late. Dean wants to be buried with as little regrets as possible.
He has already accumulated enough of those over the years. His first two wives, not seeing Claire grow up, the drug addiction, and one godawful movie. He doesn’t want Y/N to be among those things.
“C’mon, sweetheart, you gotta know at this point.” Dean looks at her, gauging her reaction. But all he sees is a sea of confusion and denial.
“Know what?” Y/N starts to get defensive, so he does as well.
“That I’m in love with you,” Dean grits with some bark in his voice, which is probably not the best way to deliver a love declaration.
Y/N’s mouth parts, but no words come out. She looks shocked, but Dean can’t tell whether it’s because she really didn’t know or because she didn’t ever think he’d say it.
“I didn’t know…”
“Yes, you did,” Dean snaps, the anger and frustration inside of him surging. “Is this really how you’re gonna play it? C’mon, I know you want this, too.”
“I-I don’t, okay? I’m sorry if I misled you,” Y/N retreats further and blinks at him apologetically.
“Oh, you didn’t.” He lets out a humorless chuckle, shaking his head at the audacious incredulity. A part of him hoped she would just admit it and say it back if he pushed her hard enough. But if anything, he knows she’s a stubborn one. “I mean, Jesus fuck, Y/N! Would you just stop being a fucking idiot?”
“I’m not being an idiot,” Y/N defends. “Why are you being mean?”
“You are, and I’m not! You’re just fucking frustrating me,” Dean huffs and takes a deep breath to calm down a little. How the hell is he supposed to get through that thick head of hers? “You’re really gonna throw all this away? You and me… what we have… Do you know how fucking rare that is? ‘Cause I fucking do. I’ve looked all my life for this… for you.”
“I-I thought this was just sex for you… You said this was just fun,” she argues.
“Do you really think that? Y/N, if all I wanted was easy fun, I would’ve kept fucking Bela,” Dean tells her bluntly and watches her gaze fall into her lap where she fumbles with her fingers.
“I don’t wanna lose you as my friend,” she says quietly.
“Well, you’re gonna. I can’t keep doing this with you. Either you love me, or you don’t. This is it,” he says plainly. Maybe an ultimatum isn’t the best way, but Dean can’t do it anymore. If he plays this game with her any longer, whatever is left of his plastic heart might disintegrate for fucking good. “I love you. I fucking love you.”
Y/N’s eyes begin to sting with tears. Her lower lip trembles as she swallows. “I-… I should go. I’m sorry.”
Clasping his mouth with a palm, Dean defeatedly falls back into the seat and stares up at the dark night sky above him. He nods, tears brimming in his green eyes. “Mhm, yeah, you should. Go. Fucking leave…”
Dean doesn’t look at her. He can’t watch her go, so he willfully keeps his eyes trained on the few stars that weren’t swallowed by light pollution till he hears the front door softly shut.
Fuck.
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25. Dare – May 11
You're probably screaming right now, and I get it. But let's give our girl some time to think, alright? I have a feeling some stinging desert sun will help with that. After all, you can't have a finale without some satisfying romance 😏
Focus on the good and funny! What was your favorite moment of this part? 👑💖
TAGS:
Everything Jensen: @alwaystiredandconfused @xlynnbbyx @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @blackcherrywhiskey
@deansbbyx @foxyjwls007 @ladysparkles78 @roseblue373 @zepskies
@agalliasi @yvonneeeee @hobby27 @iamsapphine @globetrotter28
@mxltifxnd0m @lacilou @feyresqueen @suckitands33 @onlyangel-444
@syrma-sensei @perpetualabsurdity @deans-baby-momma @yoobusgoobus @jessjad
@hunter-or-the-hunted @k-slla @just-levyy @mrsjenniferwinchester @illicithallways
@muhahaha303 @ultimatecin73
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dw19791967 · 3 months
Text
That Type of Girl Part 1
Pairing: Dean x reader (Eventual), Sam x reader (Platonic)
Warnings: language, unrequited love, slight angst, some fluff
This is the first fic I have ever written, all mistakes are my own. Please be gentle on me!
_____________________
I had never been the type of girl that men would look at twice. I have always been on the heavy side of the scale. I have a big gut, small ass, and ok sized boobs. After struggling with my confidence for a better part of my life, when I hit my 20’s I stopped caring about what others thought of me. But I would still wear clothes a size or two too big. But I felt confident (for the most part). I didn’t give a rats ass what most people thought of me, which definitely helped when it came to hunting. 
My life changed forever when I met the Winchesters. Sam was like the big brother I never had. Dean…well, that was a different story. Everything in me knew the moment I met him, that he was something special. The way he could make me laugh, make me smile, make me feel appreciated. No one had ever made me feel the things he did. But I knew he would never see me as more than a friend, and after some time I was ok with that. I knew a man like him would never even consider being with a girl like me. 
“What ya thinking about Y/N?” said Sam. We were currently sitting in a roadside bar after we finished our most recent hunt. Of course Dean was busy flirting with some gorgeous blonde, leaving Sam and I to our own devices.
“Just thinking about what life would be like if we weren’t hunters.” I lied of course. I was thinking about why couldn’t I be the type of girl Dean would turn to for more than friendship. Something I thought about pretty frequently.
“Do you really want that type of life ?” Sam stated with a curious look on his face. 
“Hell no, I’m not made for normal. Just always like to think about where I would be ya know? Would I be married, have 2.5 kids, and a full time job or would I be a crazy cat lady.” I giggled.
“Well considering you're allergic to cats you definitely would not be a crazy cat lady.” Sam was laughing.
“You’re right Sammy, guess there goes that day dream.” I said. I couldn’t stop watching Dean. I really needed to find something else to occupy my time.
“You know I see how you look at him.” Sam said.
“I don’t know what you mean Sammy.” I replied.
“Y/N you should tell him how you feel, you never know he may feel the same way.” Sam looked at me with an optimistic grin.
“Yeah right Sam, I’m going to the restroom then I’m heading out. You boys can stay and have some much deserved fun.” I got up to head towards the restroom, if only Sam knew how deep I was in.
______
The following day after returning to the bunker the night before, I got up around 6:00 to make the boys breakfast. It was something I did every now and then, even though I made a pretty shitty cook. I rolled out of bed and put some shorts on. I had an old AC/DC shirt on (I didn’t bother wearing a bra since the shirt was baggy), threw my hair up in a messy bun and was ready to get to work. I made my way to the kitchen as quietly as I could. Evidently I tend to stomp when I walk in the bunker halls (according to Sam), so it is something I am trying to work on. I got the eggs and bacon out. Scrambled would have to be it for today because I don’t have the patience to try anything else. Sam made his way into the kitchen as I was finishing up with the bacon.
“Well good morning sunshine!” Sam sang.
“Damn Sammy can you keep it down somewhat, you know how I feel about being happy first thing in the morning.” I covered my ears.
“Oh yes so sorry grumpy pants” Sam laughed.
“I’m pretty sure you are like the only person I have ever seen to be so excited at 6:30 in the morning.” I finished putting some eggs on a plate for him.
“Well why are you up so early anyway? You made us breakfast?” Sam asked.
“Well yes you big giant, I did. I felt like doing something nice even if I am a grumpy pants.” I sat his plate down in front of him.
“Well I appreciate it and I’m sure Dean will too. Where is Dean?” Sam took a bite of his eggs.
“Pretty sure he is still sleeping, I’ll wake him up on my way to shower. How does it taste?” I asked.
“It is actually pretty good, way to go Y/N you have finally learned how to make eggs!” Sam was laughing. I enjoyed the teasing banter we had with one another, it made me happy that we didn’t always have to take things so seriously.
“Haha very funny, looks like now I will have to cook more often.” I stated as I walked out of the kitchen.
Heading down the hall I stopped at Dean’s room. I opened his door slightly, he was sprawled out over his bed snoring loudly. Blondie must have tired him out last night. I usually don’t like waking him up because he has such a hard time sleeping. Especially lately but I knew he would be pissed if he missed out on bacon. I made my way over to him.
“Dean” I whispered.
“Dean I made breakfast” I patted his shoulder.
He rolled over and opened his eyes. Looking at me in a way that almost made me blush.
“Hey sweetheart, what time is it?” he asked.
“7:00” I stated.
“Damn I actually slept in some, that was amazing.”
I’m sure it was, I stated to myself. Damn my jealousy.
“Well I just wanted to let you know there is eggs and bacon, Sam said that I actually learned how to make eggs so guess that means they are good this time. I laughed. “ I’m gonna take a quick shower then I will meet you back out there” I said.
“You had me at bacon” he got up and stretched. 
“Well good morning sleeping beauty” stated Sam.
“God it smells amazing in here” Dean said with a grin.
Dean loaded up a plate with tons of bacon and a few scoops of eggs.
“Damn this is awesome” Dean moaned.
“Would you like me to give you some alone time with that?” Sam laughed.
“Sammy, she seriously knows how to make my damn morning. This bacon might be the best I have ever eaten.”
“Well she has been up since 6 working on it so I’m glad you are enjoying it.” Sam was reading something on his laptop now.
“What would we do without her?” Dean wondered aloud.
“What would we do without who?” I stated as I made my way back into the kitchen. I had taken a quick shower and changed into jeans and a flannel. Baggy of course. I never wore tight fitting shirts. My hair was still a little wet but I wanted to make sure the boys were taken care of before I moved on with my routine.
“You sweetheart, you are seriously too good to us.” Dean stated, staring at me. 
I blushed, “Well I would do anything to make your guys day a little better.” Sam looked at me with a knowing look, please dear lord do not let him say anything.
Sam continued reading something on his laptop without saying a word. 
“Well I’m gonna head to the library to check out this book I need, do you guys need anything?” asked Sam.
“I’m good, thank you though Sammy.” I stated.
“Unless you are stopping at the store, in that case we need pie.” Dean said while stuffing his face with more bacon.
“Of course Dean, I will make sure to get your precious pie.” Sam said while laughing.
With Sam gone, I struggled to find something to say to Dean but the silence was killing me. 
“What time did you guys end up coming home last night?” I asked. I really didn’t want to know but yet I needed to.
“Uh not too long after you, it was kinda a bust.” stated Dean.
“What happened to Blondie?” I asked without even thinking.
Dean looked up at me, “She was talking my ear off about her ex. I told her if she couldn’t stop thinking about him then she probably needed to talk it out with him.”
Good I thought to myself, I knew he deserved a good time but I am glad he struck out. I really need to stop thinking like this.
“Well I am sure you will have better luck next time” I said with a smile. It took everything in me to muster that up.
“Nah next time we need to work on finding someone for you.” Dean stated.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“Well I know it's been awhile since you have found a guy for you, so I figured I could help you look.” Dean said with a shrug.
Did he seriously think I wanted to find someone? I really was not the love them and leave them type. I tended to get too attached. So I just took care of things on my own. Plus it was hard to find someone to spend the night with when you are desperately in love with someone else.
“I’m really not interested Dean. I would rather just drink and make a fool of myself.” I laughed.
“Come on Y/N, I’m sure you could use a night of romance or whatever you want to call it” Dean looked at me.
Anytime I had even considered taking a guy home they would make comments about my body. Which usually ended with my fist bleeding and the guy laying on the bar floor.
“Dean, do you seriously not remember the last time I looked for a guy, he ended up calling me a fat bitch and I knocked his lights out.” I picked at my nails. I couldn’t look at his face right now.
“Yes I remember, that was just one shitty guy. I have faith we can find a good one.” Dean got up to clear his plate.
The one guy I want doesn’t want me so I really don’t want to try to find another one. I will just end up with my feelings hurt and my confidence wounded. It’s not worth it to me.
“I appreciate the offer truly, but I don’t want a night of romance. I just want to spend a night with my two best friends. That’s it. Can we please drop it?” I got up to start working on the dishes.
“If that is what you want Y/N.” Dean looked at me softly. “I will get them sweetheart, the least I can do since you cooked.” Dean started working on the dishes.
"Thanks" I said. "I'm gonna go finish fixing my hair." I made my way out of the kitchen as fast as I could. I wish he could understand how I felt, but this is one area in which Dean and I are very different.
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suckerforlovesblog · 10 months
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A perfect match?
Everything was different when you opened your eyes. Everything was different once again. Without knowing where you were, you sat up, rubbed your tired eyes and took a look around you. A pair of bright green eyes starred back at you through the dark. Hearing a deep rumbling voice saying that everything is fine now , you felt a shiver run down your spine and everything turned. The darkness welcomed you back once again…
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Series warning: ABO Dynamics, Smut, Unprotected PIV , Scenting, Knotting, Language, age gap, Claiming, Breeding Kink
Series Masterlist:
Chapter 1: Why is nothing staying the same?
Chapter 2: Where am I?
Chapter 3: What now?
Chapter 4: Where are we going?
Chapter 5: Why don’t you care for me?
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winchester-girl67 · 5 months
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Wild Hearts (Part 2)
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Summary: Dean steals his father's car to give Y/N a ride home. The next day Y/N tags along to the dunes for sand surfing. 
Masterlist
Pairing: AU!Dean x reader 
Word Count: 3,771 
Warnings: underage, age gap (reader is 16, Dean is 20 but closer to 21), mentions of physical abuse by a parent, past injury (bruising/scars), mentions of death and alcoholism, John is an asshole in this one, underage drinking, angst, language, slow burn, mutual pining, a hint of jealousy, a bit of fluff 
A/N: Sand surfing looks really fun. Didn’t think I’d get this finished before the new year. Happy holidays! 
_____ 
Dean grabbed your hand every time the headlights of a car came into view and pulled you off more to the side of the road. Placing himself between you so the car would have to go through him to hit you. The last time he did it you held onto his hand and he didn't let go. Until you came up to a driveway that led to a small ranch style house sitting amongst the evergreens. 
You spotted a cherry-condition, black muscle car sitting in the driveway, "No way! Is this your car?" 
"Uh- yeah," he smiled, "-I mean, no. It's my dad's but yeah that's what we're taking." He stumbled out his words as if he was nervous. 
You trailed your finger up the hood of the car, "Sixty-seven?" 
"You know your cars." He smirked. 
"My dad used to drag me to every car show he could when I was younger. On those days he did get off work." You said, admiring the freshly waxed black paint. "And as a result, I developed a thing for pre-seventies muscle." 
"Baby's the only thing my father has ever loved." Dean said and you frowned, "Aside from my mother. She passed away when Sammy was born."
"Baby?"
"It's what he calls the car." 
You nodded. "Who's Sammy?" 
"My little brother," he explained with an edge of protectiveness, "He's sixteen, too." He bit the split in his lip until it bled and kicked the front tire with a glare. "He's probably passed out by now," and somehow you knew he was talking about his father again, "But you better wait out here." He said, pushing you off to the side of the house so you blended with the shadows of the trees lining it. "Y/N, if you hear anything... Do not come inside." 
Then he turned around and headed for the door, leaving you with a sinking feeling in your gut. The way he spoke about his father, loving four wheels and engine more than his sons. Dean looked pained at the thought and his eyes greener when they glided over his father's Impala. 
Then it hit you, his warning. His father wasn't a good man. 
You left the shadowed tree line and peered through one of Baby’s windows. Fast food bags littered the front bench seat and a half a bottle of liquor lay on the floor. Your skin started to crawl at the thought of Dean's father coming home half-pissed and taking his day out on his sons. No doubt Dean only stuck around for his little brother. You wondered if Sam had endured the same type of injuries or if Dean always stood between them. Somehow you already knew the answer. 
The screen door shut with an audible creak and Dean reappeared on the porch, "Y/N?" He whisper shouted as he scanned the area you were supposed to wait. "Y/N." 
"Over here," you matched his tone. 
"Got 'em." He jingled the keys for you to see. "Let's push her out onto the street before we start her though." He opened the driver's door, "Here, you steer, I'll push." 
"You're not gonna get in trouble, are you?" You hesitated, you didn't think you could bear to see more bruises on him, or worse. 
He gave you a cocky smile, "I'm not gonna get caught." 
You slid in behind the wheel and shifted into neutral, taking a moment to appreciate Baby's beauty despite the mess of trash in the front seat. Meanwhile Dean ran around to the bumper and started pushing the car down the driveway. You braked when you got to the edge of the street, throwing open the door and letting Dean take over as you slid over to the passenger side. 
The car grinded to a stop as he pulled up in front of your house. It was a beautiful car but the whole ride felt like a tin can rolling over bumps in the road and the muffler rattled against the undercarriage the entire time. His father didn’t seem like the type to put his time or money into anything that couldn’t give back to him. Which apparently included keeping up maintenance on Baby. 
"For someone who's supposed to love this car," you flicked a used ketchup packet onto the floor and wiped your sticky fingers on your jeans, "He's shit at taking care of it." 
"Imagine if he didn't love her." Dean's eyes were lost on the dashboard, deep in some solitary thought. "He didn't deserve her and he doesn't deserve this car." For a moment you thought he must've been talking about his mother. You wondered if the abuse started before or after her passing. You didn't ask. "Are you busy tomorrow?" 
"Um."
"It's fine if you didn't mean it. About being my friend. But I was gonna go sand surfing and I thought that might be something you'd like to do. Something friends do." He shrugged. "I-I'm not trying to be creepy. Just friends." 
"I don't think you're creepy," you shook your head and met his sad smile, "I'd love to go, sand surfing? What is that?" 
He laughed, "It's like snowboarding but down a sand dune. It's easy, I'll teach you. Fall's the best time for it because the sand won't burn you." 
"That sounds fun." 
"Good, I'll pick you up," he said and then added, "My friend's driving. There'll be others there too, but they're not like your brother's friends." 
"I don't like my brother's friends." 
"These are good people," he smiled, the bruised part of his face hidden in the shadows of the car and you almost forgot about it. He had a nice smile, he didn't show too many teeth or too much gums. "I'll give you my number, in case you decide to cancel." 
You laughed silently but let him enter his phone number into your cell. Then you texted him so he'd have yours, too. 
"Thanks for the ride, Dean." You reached over and gave him a quick side hug. He didn't even have a chance to react but stared at the dash again and nodded when you pulled away. "Text me when you get home or I'll worry." 
"You don't have to worry about me, Y/N, I'm not a child." He said cordially. 
He'd obviously picked up on you putting the pieces of his home life together, his injuries, his father, how much he was risking by stealing Baby tonight. Dean was tall and built enough to protect himself, but nobody should stand alone and clearly his father was still bigger and stronger. 
"People worry about you in every stage of life, Dean. At least they should. I will." He looked over at you and matched your frown. 
"But you only just met me." 
His words echoed in your ears well after you showered and crawled into bed. Dean brought about so many feelings in you that you didn't know which to follow. You felt butterflies, and mutual affection like you'd known each other longer than you did, and an untethered desire to protect him, which was absurd because although he was skinny, he could toss you over his shoulder and spin you around if he wanted to. His bruises and scars made you feel helpless, but his smile made you happy because you could tell he felt lighter, too. 
You checked your phone and found a message from him. 
Dean: Mission impossible accomplished. See you tomorrow. 
Y/N: Thanks for texting. Goodnight, Dean. 
Dean: Night, Y/N. 
You'd be lying if you said you weren't developing a crush. You sighed and rolled over in bed. What could you do, nothing. He'd get into a lot more trouble than you. 
Sleep did not come easy after that and you woke up before you thought you'd even fallen asleep. You groaned and rolled over in bed when you heard your phone buzz. 
Dean: Good morning, Y/N. 
Y/N: Geez, you wake up early. What time is it? 
Dean: You're literally looking at your phone. 
Y/N: Omg! It's 6am, what is wrong with you?! 
Dean: You know the saying, early bird... 
Y/N: The sun isn't even awake yet, Dean. 
Dean: You're grumpy in the morning. 
Dean: Just wanted to let you know we'll pick you up around noon. 
Dean: Y/N? You still wanna come, right? 
Y/N: Yeah! Sorry, I'm tired. 
Dean: Awesome. Just one question before you pass out on me. Benny's bringing a grill, so we're making hotdogs for lunch. You're not a vegetarian are you? 
Y/N: Yeah...
Y/N: I'm joking. No, I'm not. 
Dean: Good, our friendship might've ended right there. 
Dean: Just kidding. Go back to sleep. 
You smiled at your phone a little too long before you locked it and went back to sleep for a few hours. 
"Hey, sweetie. You're awake early." Your mother said when you walked into the kitchen around ten. It was early compared to your typical Sunday morning. "Have fun last night?" 
You nodded, not wanting to get into the events of your brother or his friends from the bonfire. Your mom seemed to accept the answer and you assumed your brother made it home at some point without her noticing the hour. 
You got along with your parents well enough. You never really got into any trouble and you weren’t sure they even knew how to ground you if you did. Besides, your dad wasn’t around much lately, it seemed his new promotion kept him at the office longer than necessary. Which was where he was now. On a Sunday, at ten A.M. 
You didn't know what you wanted to do when you grew up, but you knew you wanted to have balance in your life. Something you thought your dad didn't understand. You couldn't remember the last time he brought you to a car show, you couldn't remember the last time you'd asked him to bring you either. 
"Your dad said he'd be home for dinner and your brother probably won't be up until mid-afternoon. What time did you two get in last night?" She asked, sipping on her coffee. 
You didn't have a curfew because you never had the need for one and your parents oddly trusted you. You didn't do crazy shit to make them worry about you but sometimes you wanted to, if only just for the attention. So you knew she was just curious when she asked. 
"I dunno," you shrugged, not wanting to get into why you didn't know and that you didn't come home with your brother. "I'm going out with some friends for lunch." 
"That sounds fun," you weren't sure if she was even listening anymore or just saying that. 
Your family had gotten better at not actually listening to each other lately. But you ignored that fact yourself and grabbed a bowl of cereal for breakfast. 
At eleven-thirty, you threw on a pair of high-rise jeans and an oversized t-shirt that you knotted at the waist. You also pulled on a flannel shirt in case it got chilly which was the way the weather was turning lately. Then you texted Dean. 
Y/N: Text when you get here, I'll come out and meet you. 
You wanted to avoid an awkward interaction with your mother. Especially since your brother was awake now and slamming the kitchen cupboards. He wouldn't really care but he was nosey and would start something if he saw how much older Dean was. And you doubted a few hours would've helped much with the bruising on his face. That wouldn't be fair to make Dean explain how he'd got them to complete strangers. Especially since you were pretty sure you knew how he'd gotten them. 
Dean: We're here. 
You shouted a 'Bye' as you ran out of the house, hearing your brother ask your mom where you were headed before the door slammed shut behind you. You shoved your phone into your back pocket and ran down the driveway to where a red Jeep waited. Dean stood outside, leaning against the door. 
He smiled when he saw you run up, "Hey." 
"Hi." You said, noticing his face falling, "What's wrong?" 
"I feel like we're sneaking around," he glanced back at your house as if he expected someone to come running out after you. "Feels wrong." 
"I just didn't want you to have to deal with the inevitable questions about, you know," you pointed to the left side of his face. "But if you want I can introduce you before we go... Or you could come over Friday for family dinner and give that a little more time to heal." 
He stared at you for half a second then shoved his hands in his pockets, "Family dinner sounds nice." 
"Great, I'll set it up tonight!" You smiled brightly and touched his arm, "Feel better?" 
He swallowed and nodded and you heard someone shout impatiently from inside the Jeep. Dean opened the backdoor for you and climbed in after you. You sat in the middle next to a guy with black hair and blue eyes who looked about the same age as Dean. 
"Hey, I'm Cas." The guy greeted you as you settled in. 
As soon as the door was closed the Jeep pulled out onto the road with a bounce from a pothole the tire hit. 
A small brunette in the middle front seat turned around and waved, "I'm Ruby, Sam's girlfriend," she pointed to a lanky guy with long brown hair next to her who offered you a smile. 
They looked about the same age as you, at least you knew Sam was. You noticed right away Sam didn't have any bruises or obvious scars. You felt a bit proud of Dean for that and also a little sorry that he didn't have someone like himself to have his back. 
"That's Benny," Dean said, pointing to the guy driving. "Benny say ‘Hi’."
"Hi." He glanced in the rearview mirror. 
"He's quiet until you get to know him." Dean explained. 
Benny, by far, looked the oldest of the bunch. Maybe it was because he hadn't shaved in a couple of days or maybe it was because he was built like a linebacker. But either way he didn't seem to like you. It was just a vibe you got in the split second your eyes connected. It practically radiated off him and you wondered if you were the only one picking up on it. 
"So, Y/N, how come I never see you at school?" Ruby asked, spinning around in her seat to face you completely and bumping into Benny who growled. Maybe it wasn't just you. "You're not home schooled are you?" 
"No, I go to one near my dad's work." You explained quickly, not really wanting to talk about school. 
"Where does your dad work?" Sam asked this time. 
“At Sandover Bridge and Iron. He’s the Director of Sales and Marketing.” You bounced your eyebrows. Really all that means is he’s barely around anymore. 
"That's cool," he said, shifting his eyes to Dean for a second. 
"Oh," Ruby’s brown eyes widened for a second and you knew what she was thinking. 
"Yeah."
"Am I missing something?" Dean asked, glancing between the two of you. 
"It’s a private school." You explained and it seemed to dawn on him. "What are you smirking at?" 
"You have to wear a uniform, don't you?" He smiled so wide the split in his lip threatened to pull again. 
"If you must know, yes, and it is the bane of my existence." You rolled your eyes dramatically to make your point. 
"So, like a plaid skirt with those long socks?" 
"Careful, Dean. We're friends, remember?" You whispered to him and he opened his mouth to respond, but then snapped it shut and turned to stare out the window. 
Ruby pouted, resting her chin on the back of the seat, "That's too bad. You could've sat with us at lunch and I would've shown you around. Dean says you're new." 
"Yeah," you sighed. That would've been nice to know someone in school. You had begged your parents to let you go to a public school this time, but they insisted. "Too bad." 
Dean had gotten really quiet and you nudged him with your elbow. He turned to smile and swallow thickly before turning a cold-shoulder and staring out the window again. You had only been teasing, but you didn't want him getting any ideas that would only result in him getting in trouble. 
"How do you guys know Dean?" You asked, directing the question at Cas since Benny didn't seem to be much of a talker. 
"We grew up together. Well, me and Dean did." Cas explained, "Benny just kind of showed up one day and we couldn't get rid of him." Benny growled and Cas winked in the rearview mirror. "He really is a teddy bear once you get to know him." 
Once you got to the beach Benny didn't park in the parking lot, instead he drove out onto the beach and down the shore for a long time until you were surrounded by only dunes of sand. It would've taken forever to walk there. He parked at the top of the dunes and everyone filtered out of the Jeep. The guys grabbed the boards from the trunk and Benny got to setting up his grill. You guessed he wasn't really into sand surfing. 
Dean said he was going to teach how to surf, but he was already halfway down the dune with Cas when you looked. And Sam and Ruby were flirting as they carried their boards over to join them and you didn't feel like third wheeling it today, so you hung back with Benny. 
"Need a hand?" Your voice was softer than you'd like it to be but you found him intimidating, even if he wasn't nearly as tall as Dean or Sam who was a moose at sixteen and probably still growing.
"Thought you came for that," he pointed at the dune where the others had run off to and you saw a couple extra boards stuck in the sand at the top. But you still didn't know how to surf, never even been snowboarding. And those surfboards looked a lot more like snowboards. You'd hurt yourself for sure without knowing how to turn or stop. "I hope you know what you're doing with him." 
Your eyes snapped back to Benny's and you squinted, "Excuse me." 
He raised his hands and his eyebrows, "His home life is... undesirable. I know you know what I mean. Last thing he needs is your parents on top of his own." 
You didn't think your parents would bat an eye at Dean. Mainly because they were wrapped up in their own lives and didn’t pay you much attention. But if they did notice, you wondered if they would dislike Dean enough to turn what you have with him into something wrong and indecent. You'd like to think they wouldn't because it wasn't. But it's a parent's job to be protective of their child.
"We're just friends." 
"Not the way he looks at you." Benny cocked his head and started setting up the foldable stand for the grill. "He's not thinking when he's around you. And don't get me wrong, I like seeing him happy, he's been there for me more times than I can count, but- Do you have any idea what his father would've done if he knew Dean took that car out last night. If that's the way he looks after spilling paint in the garage..." You didn't know what to say and opened your mouth like a fish out of water before he continued. "Dean's never done anything like that before. I'm just asking you to be careful with him. He has two years left and then he and Sam can get the hell out of there." 
"Why two years?" That's all you could manage to ask. 
"Dean's tried to get custody of Sam since he turned eighteen but the lawyers always tell him the same thing. He's too young himself, with no steady income and no decent living quarters. Going through courts takes time and money and Sam would likely age out before that time." He explained as you fiddled with the knot in your t-shirt. 
"How'd you know about the car?" 
"I live next door, I helped him push it back up the driveway so his father wouldn't wake up and hear the engine." 
"I'm sorry, I didn't know. I mean, I kind of knew but I guess I believed him when he said it would be fine." You watched your shoes and tried to still your bottom lip. "Just so you know, I'm not trying to cause him any more pain. We just kind of connected last night and I like him. I'm not gonna do anything that'll get him in trouble though. I promise." 
"Kid, I'm not worried about you doing the dumb shit. I'm worried about him." He scratched his slight beard. "It's not fair to ask you to think for the both of you." 
"It's not fair to ask me to not be his friend either." 
"I couldn't ask that of you." 
You kind of missed quiet Benny and the afternoon was starting to feel a lot like last night with your brother's friends. You wiped a tear threatening to fall down your cheek when you were sure Benny wasn't looking; everyone else taking a second run down the dune after climbing back up. You stood around and kicked at the sand until you could feel grains in your shoe. 
"Hey, cher, can you grab me the hotdogs from the cooler?" Benny asked and nodded towards the cooler next to the Jeep. 
You didn't bother digging around and just brought him the whole cooler. He split open the pack of hotdogs and started grilling. Then pulled a can of beer from the cooler and opened it. He handed it to you and grabbed his own. You wondered if you actually had to drink it, but he clearly saw that you were upset and it was a peace offering of sorts. So you took a sip. 
The fifth sip wasn't so bad and the seventh went down even easier. But it still tasted gross and you still didn't see the point. Maybe just a little warmth in your cheeks. 
Sam and Ruby were the first to run back over when Benny rang the dinner bell. Followed by Cas and Dean. Dean eyed the beer can in your hand and you took another sip before you grabbed a hotdog and walked away.
_________________________
Part 3
_________________________ Dean: @akshi8278 @laycblack @thoughts-and-funnies @mrsjenniferwinchester @crustycheeks @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @lyarr24 @suckitands33  @eliwinchester99 @yvonneeeee @igotmajordaddyissues @djs8891 @leigh70 @globetrotter28 @backseat-of-deans-67chevy
SPN: @hobby27
Wild Hearts: @justrealizedimmascifygurl @evieluvsjamie @kimberkingrivers
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queen-of-deans-booty · 3 months
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Right After All Series
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*The image(s) I’ve used for the reader on the cover DOES NOT reflect what the reader actually looks like*
Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader
Series Summary: One Man. Two Twins. One of them longs for the man's attention while the other gets to go home with him. One of them bares her heart for the man while the other steals his and doesn't give it back. He is faced with the ultimate decision. Which twin will he end up with?
Series Word Count: 
Series Warnings: slight cheating, heartbreak, angst (will update with more parts)
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Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Part Six
Part Seven
Part Eight
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deanoheartspie · 9 months
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Sunshine 5
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Pairing: Cowboy Sheriff Dean x City Gal Reader
Summary: After your family cut you off, your great-aunt Laura invited you over to her ranch you often visited when you were just a child... You drive through the beautiful town until you accidentally graze a horse that just so happens to be the sheriffs...
Warnings: None
A/N: I've gotten some feedback on my writing! So this is my first attempt at trying to make it better and make it make sense for all! I really do appreciate suggestions with writing/about the book, also love hearing what you have to say about the characters.
(MIGHT REWRITE!! Depending on how I feel about it)
•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•
Y/N POV
The beautiful grassy fields, full of bright colorful flowers, and the clouds in the most beautiful blue sky ever seen. It was like it was picture-perfect almost too good to be true. Maybe it was, maybe it wasn't you'd never know for sure.
Most of all though... Dean. He was a good man, you could tell by just the way he carried himself or the way he cared about others.
You've never laughed as hard or had genuine conversations as you had this afternoon with no other than the gruff cowboy. Family members never really cared or even tried to seem interested in what you had to say but when they did they were only interested in how it'd affect their precious images.
After he left though, grumbling about having to chase some dog again earning a laugh from you and a simple 'good luck' he ran off after walking me back. True gentleman I must say.
“Hey, Laura do you need help with anything?” You tiredly ask desperately wanting to drown yourself in a nice hot shower.
The older woman looks up from her knitting and smiles as she shakes her head “No thank you sweetheart, how did today go? Did he go easy on ya?” She asked as she went back to what she was doing glancing up at you a few times.
Easy? Maybe he did? He didn't seem as bossy as he usually was had they talked to him?
“You could say that... He did teach me a lot. I appreciate you guys letting me stay here” You thank them probably for the one-hundredth time this week.
“That's good. He's very good at what he does, and quit thankin' us we are family and family helps one another. Now shoo! Go relax, you are probably exhausted its getting way too hot out there”
You smile and nod, giving her a quick hug before running up to the room.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Drying off your hair, tossing a tank top, and your favorite soft pajama pants that most definitely would get ruined here if something were to happen.
The creaking wood floors, announce you to everyone downstairs causing Dean and a little girl to look at you... Smiling at them you wave.
“Who's this little one?” You ask but can see the resemblance between the two, was this who Lina Linda Lisa was? Whatever her name was talking about that day on the sidewalk?
“My daughter” His usual gruff and annoyed voice was non-existent. He sounded happier.
The big ole green-eyed little girl had the biggest smile on her face as she leaned back and forth on her plastic princess heels. She was practically a carbon copy of Dean, but as a young girl and boy was she adorable.
“Hello! I'm Rory” She stuck her tiny hand out, You gently shook her hand the same smile stuck on your face.
“Nice to meet you, Rory! I'm Y/n”
Rory quietly thought for a moment, it felt like a mini interview, and god that made you anxious.
“Do you like ponies?” she asked squinting her eyes, acting as if she was asking the most important question ever.
Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head while he had a small smile of amusement wondering how this would go.
“Hm, are they magical ponies or normal ones?”
She tapped her chin, before reaching up to her father who knew the look she gave him probably way too well because right away he handed her a unicorn stuffed animal. “Obviously the ones that can fly!” Aurora said in a duh tone, pointing up at you, you look around curious as to what/why she was exactly pointing for.
“Aurora what did I say about pointing? It's rude.” Dean's voice echoed from the hallway, he was on his way into the kitchen.
“I like her, you date her?” She said, causing Dean to spit out his coffee and start coughing his lungs out. Your eyes widen in surprise, who would've thought a simple question about magical freakin' horses would lead to this?
“You can't keep doin' that, sweet pea. She's my friend, and that's all.” He explained, cleaning up his mess while the little girl nodded before shrugging.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
The rest of the night went well, You and Rory played for a bit while Dean cooked. Giving him credit where it's due, he's a pretty damn good cook if you must say yourself. Though half the things he does make will mostly take 30 years off your life. That donut burger was worth it though...
Bedtime came around, and Aurora fell asleep in your arms safe and sound. Following Dean up to his room after he offered plenty of times to take Rory off of your shoulders after you refused not wanting to wake the young lady.
What you hadn't noticed before when you had woken the man up this morning was the little princess bed on the other end of the bedroom full of toys and stuffed animals.
“Sorry,” He whispered pushing everything off to the side neatly, grabbing a big t-shirt and gently putting it on Rory, before taking her from your arms and tucking her in.
Oddly enough this felt normal. Though it probably shouldn't have. Friends, friends are what we are and that's it.
“Good night Dean.” You say halfway out the bedroom door when he says something that caught you off guard.
“Will you have a drink with me?” He asked standing up straight and walking towards you with a tiny smile.
A drink with Dean? That actually sounds kinda nice.
“Sure. Though I'm surprised you still haven't learned your lesson from last night's drunken mess” You tease, flashing off your pearly whites as he rolls his eyes guiding you downstairs out to the front porch.
He hands me a nice cold beer before plopping himself down onto the front porch stairs, looking up at the starry night sky. Even at night, this place was beautiful.
“So, you never told me why you're here in the first place Darlin',” He said breaking the silence, putting his full attention onto you.
“Runaway bride.” You say shortly, with a tiny shrug before taking a sip of the liquid. Dean's were wide before he broke into a fit of laughter, shaking his head
“No really why are you here?” He asked again calming himself down, the smile still on his face and his face all red from the laughing.
“Runaway bride.” You say slower this time, in all seriousness. The smile was quick to leave his face and his eyes looked like they were about to pop out of his face.
“Your fuckin' with me right? That stuff only happens on telenovelas” Dean was leaning his head back against the railing, still in shock.
“Nope.”
“Y/n why do you sound so calm about this? What'd he do to have you run off to the middle of nowhere and pick up horse shit for the rest of your life” Dean asked, running his fingers through his hair before finishing off his beer.
“It was set up, arranged marriage. Didn't want to go through with it so I left plain and simple.” You get up stretching your arms grabbing the small blanket from the swinging couch, wrapping it around yourself.
“You shock me every day. I won't have some crazy man comin' here demanding you right? I ain't gonna get in a fight for you sweetheart pretty and all but I have a kid and I'm already on thin ice.” He seriously says while never once looking away from you.
“I don't expect you to get in a fight for me and no, there should be no man coming here to fight you” You roll your eyes, men were stupid sad thing was you did want someone to love, and protect you. But then again that only happened in fairytales, this was fair from one.
“Glad we are on the same page. But as the sheriff, I'd have to help ya out so just gimmie a call”
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
----Tag list----
@deans-spinster-witch @leigh70 @mrsjenniferwinchester @ladysparkles78 @hobby27 @khaleesihavilliard @foxyjwls007 @lucidlivi @jc-winchester @globetrotter28 @beskarfilms @the141bandicoot @alysinwonderland-at-tea @randomgurl2326 @ambergoddess444 @westernwinchesters @lemmons1998 @julie040904 @nic-kolas @raisinggray @alternativeprincess
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Text
Fight Me, Love Me, Save Me Pt. 2
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This will fill the Broken Promises square on my @jacklesversebingo card.
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Summary: A series in three parts exploring Y/N's and Dean's relationship from bickering children, to love and broken promises, to a plea for salvation.
Warnings/Explicit 18+: Some light smut. Mostly just making out. Kissing, fondling, etc. Some angst, lots of fighting, cause it's them. Also brief scene involving threatening behavior from a creep. Nothing explicit.
Pairings: Dean Winchester x Y/N
Word Count: 4,398
A/N: So this series will fill the last three squares on my bingo card. This part covers "It's Mine, and you can't have it." Part two will cover Broken Promises, (Nov 12) and part three will be for the Isolated/Trapped square. (Nov 19)
I hope you enjoy!! If you do, please remember to like, reblog and/or comment. Means the world to us writers! ❤️
Read Part 1 Here
The dividers included here were created by @talesmaniac89
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The first year of dating for Dean and Y/N was a rollercoaster. For the first month or so, they tiptoed around each other. They knew their relationship had obviously changed but they weren’t sure about the parameters of what it was now. So, they were both extra polite to each other, terrified that they were gonna ruin this new thing, and possibly everything that came before it. Y/N didn’t want to finally realize Dean was her best friend one day, only to lose him completely the next.
So they circled around each other, sniffing at the air for warning signs. Their first fight came about a month and a half in. 
They were living in Omaha, Nebraska for the time being. It was fairly centralized and their dads were using it as a bit of a home base for a while. Y/N was hoping she’d be lucky and they’d stay until she graduated so she wouldn’t have to change schools one more time. 
They were renting an apartment together, and it was a nice change from motels and life on the road, but the apartment was tiny. It was only a one bedroom, and they’d turned that bedroom into a kind of weapons/training room. So they all slept in cots on the floor in the living room. It wasn’t ideal, but it still felt more like a home than a motel did.
One evening, Y/N was studying late at the library, determined to graduate on time and with a good GPA, regardless of her constantly revolving education. So, she’d deserted the noisy apartment and headed for some peace and quiet. John and her dad had been arguing about an old hunt, and Sam and Dean had discovered a bunch of old board games, deserted in the hallway closet. They’d found Jenga and had started out playing the game as it was intended to be played, which was loud enough. But it quickly devolved into them simply smashing down everything the other one built and then fighting about it.
She’d called out her intention to go to the library a few blocks down, and had been greeted by four male grunts in response. 
Sometimes being the only female of the group was frustrating. 
After a couple of hours at the library, Y/N was satisfied she had a handle on her history essay, and packed up to leave. As she put her things into her backpack, she noticed an older guy, maybe in his early fifties, in a hoodie and heavy canvas jacket watching her. It was slightly unnerving, but she just added him to the list of pervy dudes she’d encountered in her life, and left the library. 
As she walked outside she saw that it had begun snowing, and it was much darker than she’d expected; she still wasn’t used to the darker days of early winter. As she walked, she pulled her thin, inadequate jacket tighter, and crossed her arms. There was something a little eerie, about the gray-black sky and the snow-muffled sounds around her.
She picked up her pace.
When she was about a block away from home, she heard the snow crunch behind her and suddenly the pervy guy was standing beside her. She jumped and yelped and the guy just laughed.
“Didn’t mean to startle you, honey. You should be careful wandering off places on your own though.” He grinned yellow teeth at her. “Someone as pretty as you could give folks ideas.”
Her fear of this man angered her and her ornery nature spoke before she could think better of it. “Oh really,” she scoffed, “and just what would those ‘folks’ be thinking?”
He didn’t like her attitude, and he scowled. His voice was low and definitely threatening as he leaned closer to her, invading her personal space and making her curl her lip in disgust.
“They could be thinking you were out here alone, lookin’ for trouble. Maybe hintin’ to folks you’re after a good time.”
Y/N felt her heart start to race as the silence and alone-ness of her situation hit her and she realized just how vulnerable she was. She started running through all of her training, just where to kick, just what vulnerable spots to target.
But thankfully, after one more lingering scan of her body, the man decided to move on, leaving her shivering, but not even noticing the cold anymore.
She double-timed it back to the apartment and ran through the door, locking it quickly behind herself. She jumped when Dean spoke.
“There you are.” He said as he approached. When she jumped and spun to face him, he held his hands up in a sign of surrender. “Whoa, easy there sweetheart.” 
He saw her fear and quickly closed the distance between them, grabbing hold of her upper arms. “What happened?”
Y/N shook her head, feeling silly now for letting one old creepy guy scare her so badly. “No, nothing.” She said, looking around at the empty room. “Where is everyone else?”
Dean waved a hand dismissively. “They just left on a burger run. But it’s clearly not nothing. You flew in here like a bat outta hell, and you’re terrified.” He said with a frown. 
Y/N stepped out his hands and shook her head again. “Seriously, it’s fine.” When Dean just folded his arms and continued to stare at her, she shrugged. “Look, it wasn’t anything, okay? Just - a creepy guy got a little close and gave me the jeebs, okay?”
Predictably Dean’s jaw tensed and he immediately reached for his jacket. “What does he look like?” He said as he shrugged it on. Y/N marched up to him and yanked the jacket back down his arms. 
“You are not going out there after him.” Dean wrestled his jacket away from her and started putting it back on. “Dean, listen to me. What the hell is the plan here? Even if you could find him, which you won’t, what are you going to say to him?”
Dean scowled down at her. “I’m not gonna SAY anything. I think a bloody nose will speak volumes.”
Y/N rushed to stand between him and the door. “Don’t be ridiculous. He didn’t do anything to me.”
Dean scoffed. “You came in here terrified, Y/N. Now that doesn’t happen because of nothing.”
Y/N shook her head. “Look, it was just stupid of me okay? I panicked. He was just being gross, and he said that…” She waved away the memory of his predatory look. “I overreacted.”
Dean’s voice was dark and deadly. “Bullshit. You don’t overreact about stuff like this. This guy was obviously trash.” When Y/N shrugged her acquiescence, Dean sighed and then frowned at her again. “What the hell were you doing walking around in the dark, alone, anyway? What were you thinking? You should’ve called me to come pick you up.”
Y/N felt her hackles rise at his scolding tone. “I didn’t need you to pick me up, it’s like four blocks away.”
“Well, obviously you did, because some creep came after you.”
Y/N gritted her teeth. “And that’s my fault now?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m not saying it’s your fault the guy’s a creep, but you should’ve known better than to walk home alone in the dark.”
“Screw you, Winchester!” Y/N exploded, all her pent up fear and adrenaline rushing forth. “I should be able to walk four fucking blocks without some disgusting mouth breather thinking he can come after me, thinking he has the right to…to…and then to tell me ‘people were gonna get ideas’ about me? Is that what this is, Dean? Does me having the audacity to walk four blocks without a goddamn escort make you believe I’m game for anything? That it must mean I wanna be thrown down for a roll in the snow?”
She was breathing hard, her cheeks flushed. Tears started to fall and she dashed them away instantly. Nothing frustrated her more than the fact that anger and fury made her cry.
Dean was staring at her, looking a little shell-shocked. She stomped past him and slammed herself into the bathroom. She didn’t come out until she heard everyone else get back. She and Dean didn’t talk over supper; if anyone noticed their silence, they never mentioned it.
Hours later Y/N was laying in the dark listening to the men around her snoring and she sighed and stood up, walking carefully through the narrow path of cots. She threw on her jacket and shoes and stepped outside. She needed fresh air.
She wasn’t outside very long when Dean stepped outside to join her. He didn’t say anything, just breathed into his hands in an attempt to warm them up.
Y/N shot a look his way. “You out here to make sure I have a suitable chaperone?”
Dean sighed and then reached for her hand; she let him take it. He nodded his head sideways. “Come on, let’s warm up.” He tugged her towards the Impala and she followed.
Dean slipped into the front seat to turn on the car, running the heater and putting the radio on low, but then he climbed into the back seat, beckoning Y/N to join him. She slid into the seat, but sat apart from him, slightly rigid. She felt awkward and unsure. They’d fought - what happened now?
Dean was silent for a while too, until he finally let out a little puff of air and a laugh, shaking his head.
Y/N looked at him warily. “What’s so funny?”
Dean shrugged, and shot her a heart melting smile. “I’ve never apologized to you after fighting with you, I kind of don’t know how. In the past we never apologized for pissing each other off, we just scowled at each other for a few hours and then got burgers.”
Y/N couldn’t help a small smile. “I mean, I could eat.”
Dean laughed again, and pulled her close to him as the tension between them dissolved away. “I really am sorry though, sweetheart. I never meant to make it seem like I thought it was your fault some jackass acted like a pig towards you. I just…” He hesitated before continuing. “Well, I panicked a bit at the idea of you being alone and vulnerable. But, you’re right, doesn’t mean you need a bodyguard. Hell, I know you could have kicked his ass.”
Y/N smiled up at him, but her voice was a little shaky. “Maybe, but you’re right too. In that moment I felt really vulnerable. In spite of all my training, in spite of everything, he really scared me.” She snuggled herself deeper into Dean’s side and he held her tighter. “And that made me really angry, which I sort of took out on you. Sorry.”
Dean shrugged, jostling her slightly. “Nah, I deserved it.”
She climbed into his lap and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her cheek against his warm chest. They stayed like that for a long time, just savoring the happiness of making it through their first fight intact. They didn’t realize (but probably should have) that it was going to be the first fight of many.
Both Y/N and Dean were incredibly stubborn, with quick tempers, and strong emotions. That often led to arguments, which sometimes led to all out fights.
One of the things they fought about was what Y/N was going to do after she graduated. She was up in the air about her next move, and Dean was horrified by the idea of her living across the country, and going about her life every day without him, and far worse was the idea of him having to live every day without her. He tried to get that across to her but it never came out right, and she always accused him of trying to tell her what to do with her life, trying to hold her down.
They had a few knock down, drag out fights over that subject, before Y/N made the decision to wait on college at least for now. She wasn’t really sure what she wanted to do with her life anyway, so for now at least, she was a hunter. But she wasn't sure if that was what she wanted forever. Their fathers made it seem as though that was their only choice, and she knew Dean believed that, but she and Sam weren't so sure. 
For the time being though, she was satisfied to keep traveling and hunting, spending all her free time with Dean, fighting and making up. 
The making up was worth the fights.
For the most part, Sam and their dads stayed clear of them when they were in battle mode. They’d all been thrown for a loop when they found out Dean and Y/N were dating. When they told their dads, at first the two men weren’t thrilled. But eventually they settled for telling them to just make sure not to let it affect the team. 
But poor Sam on the other hand, found out about them in a much more visceral way - by walking in on them, locked in a heated embrace, in the motel room one day, only a few days after they started dating. 
"What the hell?" Sam exclaimed loudly as Dean and Y/N leapt apart. Sam's face wore a look of deep disgust. 
Dean grinned and shrugged, pulling a blushing Y/N back into his arms. 
"Sorry, little brother, but it's true. Y/N couldn't resist me any longer."
Sam made a retching noise, and Y/N elbowed Dean in the ribs. "Sorry if it's weird, Sam, we probably should have told you."
Sam's expression was still disbelieving and slightly horrified but he shrugged slowly.
"Whatever. Just…" He held up a hand and his voice was pleading. "Never make out around me. Please! And for God's sake, learn to lock a door."
"What good would that do?" Dean called after him as he walked away. "You have a key!"
***
They celebrated their one year anniversary the fall after Y/N graduated. Dean took her out to a nice dinner. He had to wear a jacket and tie, and he fidgeted in it all evening, but he wanted to spoil Y/N a bit, so he just dealt with it.
After dinner though, he chucked his suit jacket in the backseat, loosened his tie and rolled up his sleeves before climbing behind the wheel and taking them for a long drive. They listened to music and Y/N even forced Dean to sit through a few of the sappy love songs she’d put together on a mixed tape. He scowled the whole time, but he held her hand and pulled her closer to him on the seat.
Finally, not long before midnight, he pulled down a deserted road and then off the road into an abandoned field. He put the car in park and cut the engine, leaving the radio playing softly in the background.
Y/N shot him a knowing smile and her voice was coy when she spoke. “And what, pray tell, are we doing here?”
Dean shrugged and put on an innocent face. “Oh, I don’t know. I was thinking maybe we could, uh…play some games…twenty questions? I spy?”
Y/N stifled her laugh to nod solemnly. “Right. Okay, I’ll start. I spy…a big fat liar.”
Dean grabbed his chest as though mortally wounded. “Ugh! I spy my very injured heart.”
Y/N laughed softly. “That’s really not the way you play the game.”
Dean dropped his hands from his broken heart and turned towards her. “No? K, then twenty questions.” He picked up her hand and stroked his thumb across her knuckles. His emerald green gaze bore into hers and she felt butterflies start fluttering in her lower belly. 
His voice was low, and rich, and smooth as he asked, “What am I thinking about right now?”
Y/N felt her cheeks flame as she read his intentions, plain as day, in the heated look that spread across his face.
She laughed breathlessly and corrected him. “That’s not how you play that game either. You’re supposed to pick a person, place or thing, and then I have to guess it.”
Dean nodded. “Ah, I see.” He responded, as though this was all new information. “Okay, then I pick person. Guess WHO I'm thinking about right now.”
Y/N bit her lip and closed an eye as though she was thinking hard. “Hmm…is she…bigger than a breadbox?” She asked and grinned.
“Barely.” Dean answered with a chuckle, just before he lifted her easily into his lap, making her gasp in surprise.
She settled herself on his thighs, wiggling against him and eliciting a groan from Dean. She knew the cause of it and grinned devilishly. She asked her next question as she played with his tie. “Do I know her?”
“Hmph.” Dean grunted. “The answer to that is very philosophical.” 
Y/N looked up at him through her lashes. “It has to be yes or no answers.”
“20 Questions is no fun. Let's go back to I Spy.” Dean said as he began trailing his thumb across Y/N's bottom lip. “I spy, a pair of lips I really wanna kiss.”
He brushed his lips across hers like a breath. She sighed and chuckled. “You really suck at these games.” Her gaze was mischievous as Dean looked into her eyes. 
He shrugged and plunged his hand into her hair. “Fine, I give up. I lose.” He said before covering her mouth with his, sucking the breath from her body. 
He pulled back and leaned his forehead against hers. “Wow.” Y/N said breathlessly. “You letting me win, that's a first.”
Dean grinned. “Well, I think we both win, actually.” His grin faded into something softer, and he shifted away from her and lowered his thick lashes, hiding his bright green orbs from view
“And I think maybe…this might be a night to talk about…firsts.”
They were both silent a moment before Dean looked back at her. His gaze was earnest and he was quick to reassure her. 
“I'm not saying we have to do anything or…anything. Just…we should probably talk about it.” He bit his lip and shot her a worried look. “I mean, dontcha think?”
Y/N thought of how far they'd gone recently, spurned on by incredible heat and passion, and an endless need to get closer, ever closer to each other. But they always stopped themselves, pulling away from each other with extreme difficulty.
She nodded at Dean; yes, they should definitely talk about it. 
Yet both of them stayed quiet. Finally Y/N just reached up and kissed him again, pushing her fingers through his short hair to grasp the back of his head and press him tighter against her. 
He licked her lips open and she whimpered slightly. They traded breaths, and tasted each other thoroughly. Dean's hand slid up from her waist to slide under her blouse and trace along the top of her bra. He moved his mouth down the column of her throat and Y/N leaned back to give him easier access.
When she did so, however, her back bumped into the horn, making them both jump and then start laughing. Y/N buried her face in Dean's neck and tried to catch her breath.
Dean pulled her hand up and kissed her palm. “Maybe we should continue this conversation in the back seat?”
Y/N nodded shyly. 
She slid off of his lap and then followed him outside as he opened the back door. He went to the trunk and before they got in, he laid down a soft wool blanket that's smelled just a bit like metal and car oil. 
Dean scooted all the way over to lean against the passenger side door, pulling Y/N back into his lap.
After a minute he cleared his throat. “K, before we go get distracted again, we're gonna talk, yeah?”
Y/N nodded. “Yes, talk.” There was a beat pause. “I think we should have sex.”
Dean's eyes widened at the blunt suggestion. “Like…now?” He asked, his words a little strangled.
Y/N laughed. “Yes, now. Given how rarely we're alone together, if we don't do it now, we may have to wait another entire year.”
Dean chuckled but looked hesitant. “Y/N I don't want you to feel like we're on some kind of schedule here. I mean -” 
Y/N interrupted him. “No, Dean. I just mean, I don't wanna…I mean, I can't wait anymore.”
She reached up and ran her hand down his cheek. “I want you, and I’m…I'm ready.”
Dean clasped her hand on his cheek and pulled her fingers to his lips, kissing each tip. “Me too, sweetheart. Been ready for a long time in fact.”
Y/N smiled shyly and stretched up to kiss the corner of his jaw, cut square and as sharp as glass. Dean curled in on her, unbuttoning the first few buttons on her blouse and pushing it off her shoulder so he could kiss her there. His teeth scraped delicately across her skin. 
Y/N gasped and shuddered. Dean pulled back to look down at her. He brushed the wispy tendrils of hair off her face as he studied her flushed cheeks and shallow breathing.
When she opened her eyes and looked up at him, he smiled at her and spoke, slightly hesitant.
“Are you scared?”
Y/N shook her head. “No, not scared. Just,” she ducked her head, “just nervous I guess.” She met his gaze again. “It's a big deal, you know?”
Dean nodded. “Yeah.” 
Y/N bit her lip before licking them. “You've…um…you've done it. Before. Right?”
Dean looked slightly uncomfortable, but nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I have.”
Y/N was quiet for a moment, then. “How many girls?”
Dean scowled and cleared his throat. “Y/N let's…I don't wanna talk about this. We don't have to talk about this.”
Y/N shifted slightly in his lap again and Dean hissed and clenched his jaw against the movement as she responded. “Come on. You were there in the same health class as me, listening to Coach Ginter tell us we need to know about our partner's sexual history.”
“Y/N.” 
“Come on.” She urged him. “I wanna know. It's the responsible thing to do. You know about all zero of my former partners."
Dean sighed and rolled his eyes slightly. “Okay, if I tell you, you're not gonna freak out?”
“No, of course not.”
“Promise?”
It was Y/N's turn for an eye roll. “Yes, I promise.”
Dean breathed out through his nose and was quiet a moment. “Five.”
Y/N's eyes widened. “You've had sex five times?”
Dean shook his head. “No, five girls. I've had sex lots of times.”
He seemed to catch his mistake and and shook his head dismissively. “But they don't matter.”
But Y/N wasn't listening. “Who were they?”
Dean sat up straight. “Uh uh. We're not doing that.”
Y/N raised her voice slightly and slid off Dean's lap to sit on the seat. “Doing what? This is the proper thing to do. Coach Ginter said that we-”
“Jesus Christ!”Dean barked out and then let out a thoroughly  exasperated laugh. “Would you stop bringing up the image of Coach Ginter is his fucking short shorts and sweat-stained white t-shirts. It's really killing the vibe here.”
Y/N wasn't laughing. “The only thing killing the vibe is the fact that you won't tell me who the scores of women were that you slept with.”
Dean frowned. “Not scores. Five.” He held up a hand full of fingers. “Five.”
“Okay, then who were they?”
Dean dropped his head into his hand. “Y/N!” He growled.
“Just tell me.” Y/N said, in what was clearly a forced calm. “It's no big deal, I'm just curious.”
Dean sighed deeply before looking back at her. “You have to promise, swear!” He said with a raised finger. “That you're not gonna get mad.”
Y/N was shaking her head before he finished. “Of course not.”
“Say ‘I promise’.”
“I promise.” Y/N said, hand over heart.
After a minute Dean took a deep breath. “Tracey Reeves. She was my first.”
The name rang a bell, and Y/N squinted, searching her memory, and then it dawned on her and her face became slack with shock, quickly followed by outrage.
“Tracey REEVES!! You mean that sadistic bitch who tortured me at the start of our freshman year?”
Dean scoffed. “Come on! It was initiation! All the seniors were torturing freshman! I got tortured too! It was just hazing. I mean, it wasn't that bad, for god's sake it was a fucking school event. The principal was there!"
Y/N pouted. “Yeah well, your little sweetie pie dumped that jar of mayonnaise on my head with just a bit too much glee.”
Dean rolled his eyes and then Y/N held a hand up. “Wait, wait. We left there before Halloween. So…” Her eyes got big. “You lost your virginity when you were fourteen?” Her voice was all disbelief.
Dean's jaw clenched. “Is this judgment?”
Y/N looked away and shook her head. “Who else?”
Dean growled again. “Ugh! Y/N, come on!”
“Who?!”
“You don't know three of them, k? You never met them.”
Y/N did quick math. “And the fifth one? Who was she?”
Dean stared at her, and Y/N could tell he was frustrated beyond belief, but her stubbornness wouldn't let her stop. She stared defiantly at him, waiting for him to answer.
He shook his head and spoke quietly. “You still promising to not get mad?” He said sarcastically.
“I'm not mad.” Y/N insisted. 
Dean rolled his eyes and mumbled out his answer. “Sam's tutor, Casey.”
Y/N felt her heart stop. “She's…she was tutoring Sam when we got together.”
Dean stepped on the end of her sentence. “It was before that. Before we got together.”
Y/N squeezed her hands into balls with white knuckles. “How long before?”
“Who cares?” Dean shouted defensively. “The only thing that matters is the ‘before’ part!”
But Y/N was barely listening. She was doing more math. “She was only tutoring Sam for like a week before we started dating.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dean mumbled, “You have the fucking memory of an elephant.”
When Y/N just kept staring at him he heaved a sigh and spoke angrily. “Fine, yes, it was three or four days before we got together.”
Y/N felt her heart begin to hurt. “You said, but you said you liked me then. You said, you’ve liked me since we were kids.”
“I did!” Dean said vehemently, and then amended his words. “I have! I do!”
“But that whole week leading up to us getting together, you said you knew I was jealous, you knew I was interested.”
“No, I said, I HOPED you might be interested. I didn't know anything for sure.”
“And you couldn't wait to find out?!” Y/N asked near tears. “You just slept with some other girl and then three days later started kissing me? What did Casey think about this? I mean she came over at least four or five more times after that. Did you, uh, decide to go for a second round just to say goodbye?”
Dean's face became immobile and expressionless but his eyes were hurt and hard. “If you actually think that, think I'd do that, what the fuck are you doing here with me? Why are you with me at all?”
“I don't know!” Y/N shouted, her temper exploding. “Maybe if I'd known I was dating some kind of man-whore I wouldn't be here!”
Her temper tried to blind her to the way Dean flinched at her words, but she saw it, and it sat heavy in her heart. But her chest was heaving and her eyes burned and she refused to apologize.
Dean didn't say anything. He just opened the door and walked out to get to the driver's seat. Y/N stayed in the back. He started up the car and drove them all the way home in silence.
The night that had started with so much promise and excitement, had been shattered; promises made and broken. But the broken promise of them - what they almost were - that was what cut Y/N the most.
This fight felt different. It felt final, dark. Jealousy and hurt feelings, anger and resentment festered between them.
For days that turned into weeks they avoided each other as much as possible. Dean was gone all the time, and it ripped Y/N's heart out to think of where he might be spending his time. 
She wanted to say sorry, wanted the fight to just melt away between them as they always had before. They'd been so close to something permanent, something binding between them, and now it was ruptured, leaving a crater between them.
She didn't know how to cross it.
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1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman @mimi-luvzyu @jackles010378
2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl
3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26 @slut-for-evans-stan
4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous @k-slla @stoneyggirl2
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moonlightspencie · 11 months
Text
a house up on a hill
Part 2 of ‘a life where we work out’
Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader/Dean Winchester x past!Reader
Word Count: 1.5k
(i forgot!! tw: non-graphic mentions of suicide)
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—————————-> DEAN’S POV <- ——————————
I woke to the sound of a muffled voice calling my name.
The ground was much comfier than I remembered. It almost felt… Soft? I pushed my head back slowly, realizing that it was soft.
The voice called again, though this time it was much clearer.
I opened my eyes, slowly blinking until it all came into view. My heart stopped when I saw her looking at me. She sat next to me on the bed, a hand on my arm, smiling. She looked happy. Healthy.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” she said with a grin before she leaned down to kiss me.
Although, she came up confused when I didn’t react in time. She furrowed her brow, looking down at me.
“Too tired to even kiss your wife?”
My eyes widened, and suddenly I looked down at the hand against my bicep. She had a pretty little diamond ring on her finger.
“What—“
“How much did you drink last night?” she asked with a laugh. “I know you and Sam can get a little out of hand, but geez. How’s breakfast sound?”
“Yeah, okay,” I nodded, still in a haze.
I watched as she left the room, giving me one last confused smile before she did. I took in a deep breath. This had to be a dream. That was it.
I stumbled out of the unfamiliar bed that I somehow knew very well. I looked around the house. It was a little small, but so clearly a happy place to live that it practically slapped me in the face. I looked around the living room, quickly spotting a photo that was meant to be our wedding day. I set it back where I found it when she called my name.
I turned to see her leaving the kitchen with two bowls of some kind of scramble.
“Come on,” she said, tilting her head towards the front door.
I followed after her blindly, unable to keep my eyes off of her. She was so happy. She was practically glowing. I sat down on the front porch swing, accepting the bowl and another kiss. The porch wrapped around the house, and flowers lined all the windowsills. My attention was captured soon after by two cute kids on playing in the field down the hill. They couldn’t be more than three and four.
My brow furrowed as I glanced around at the open spaces around the house. Where were their parents?
“Jamie! Violet!” she called out to the boy and girl. “Come say ‘good morning’ to daddy!”
I sat in shock watching these two little people come running for me. They looked like us.
“Mornin’, daddy,” the little girl— Violet, said to me. “Lookit!”
She held up a bundle of wildflowers in her soft little fist. Her face lit up. My eyes, and her smile on one sweet, tiny face.
“Real pretty, baby,” Y/N said, looking at me funny when I didn’t reply to the little girl.
Meanwhile, I accepted a hug from a little boy who could’ve been my double at that age. Just without the scary parts. They all had a danger-free life. We did.
She told them to go clean up, but I could place her motives quickly.
“Did you do hard drugs last night, or something? What’s up with you?” she questioned, incredulous.
Her face dropped a little when she looked at me, quickly wiping tears from my face that I hadn’t realized were there in the first place.
“Baby?”
I cleared my throat. “I— I’m sorry. I just…”
I looked at her, not sure how to explain. Last I remember is that we had been broken up for several months. Seeing here now, mothering our children…
“Maybe my hormones are transferring,” she said with a little laugh, wiping the remaining tears.
I tilted my head in question.
She merely smiled. “I was gonna wait until my parents had the kiddos, but…”
She trailed off, the hand with the ring on it resting on her stomach suddenly.
“How’s baby number three sound?”
My eyes widened. “What? You’re pregnant?”
She nodded. “Yeah.”
“Oh—“ I started, kissing her on instinct before my words could get the better of me.
She laughed, pulling away a moment later.
“I know we said we weren’t sure about having another, but…”
“No!” I exclaimed. “No, this is— this is amazing. You’re amazing.”
“There’s my Dean,” she said softly, caressing my face. “I was worried about you this morning. You’re not being your usual self.”
“I just…” I sighed. “It’s hard to explain. Not important right now.”
She sighed. “It’s always important, babe. We talked about this: if you’re feeling bad, I’m here to talk it through with you.”
I watched her a moment, then nodded.
“We’ll talk later. Promise,” I said, still needing to figure out what kind of dream I was in.
“Okay,” she agreed with a nod, taking my hand and kissing my knuckles. “You know I love you?”
“I know. I— I love you more.”
She smiled again, leaning into me to finally eat her breakfast. I followed suit, at least letting myself enjoy this while I could. We were soon joined by two minis who insisted on cuddling, and I wasn’t going to deprive them of that.
Hours passed, and eventually her parents came. Her living parents just walked right in and took our kids for a night. And if felt good and safe to let them out of our sight. We didn’t have to worry.
I walked around our house as she took a shower, seeing that I’d missed several photos in our living room. Our kids as they grew up. Me, holding them as babies looking happier than I’d ever seen myself. Us. Her parents. My parents. Sam and Jess.
Wait. That felt eerily familiar. Why did that feel so familiar to see?
Well, that question left my brain temporarily when she walked in.
“Hey,” she called, dressed in nothing by my t-shirt.
I stared openly, unable to do anything but stare. She smirked.
“Don’t look at me like that,” she said, warning me. “It’s bedtime.”
I swallowed, still not quitting. “Right.”
She wet her lips, holding out a hand for me. I walked towards her like we were magnetic, immediately leaning in to kiss her. It’s like I couldn’t help myself. She was there. She was still in love with me. She was my wife and the mother of our kids. How could I stay away?
She must’ve shared parts of that sentiment by the way she dragged me into our bedroom, not even bothering to shut the door behind us.
I woke up the next morning to her curled into my side. Even in this perfect world, her hair still covered half her face in a mess when she slept. It was still the prettiest thing I’d ever see.
Unfortunately for me, memories started flooding back as I’d been asleep.
We had seen each other after the breakup. We even started on a hunt together. Going after a djinn.
I let myself watch her a while longer, knowing what I had to do to wake up in the real world.
My heart ached as I thought about it. I needed to wake up. I just didn’t want to. I wanted to see our kids grow up. I wanted to see our baby be born. I wanted to grow old with her. We were doing so well for ourselves here, in this life.
She woke up a few minutes later, giving me a soft smile, and brushing her fingers against the frown lines on my face.
“Always so grumpy when you wake up.”
I shook my head. “Not grumpy. Just thinking.”
“About what?”
“You. How much I love you and this life and our babies,” I said, not allowing the tears I felt to fall. “How much I missed you.”
She furrowed her brow. “Baby, we were only asleep for like seven hours.”
“Not what I mean. I just—“ I sighed. “None of this is…”
I stopped myself, realizing it was no use to try and convince her this wasn’t real. Why ruin the magic that was already slowly running dry?
“I just love you. So much,” I settled.
She kissed me. “Love you more.”
I smiled softly, kissing her one more time.
“I’ll be back soon, alright?” I lied, reluctantly climbing out of bed.
She nodded, watching me with adoring eyes as I left the room. I finally let those tears fall, finding the gun safe and pulling out my handgun. I walked out to the front porch, sitting on the swing again as I watched the blue sky come alive. It was peaceful. It was someplace I was determined to see again in my dreams when I left.
I took a deep breath, preparing myself for what came next.
And I pulled the trigger.
part 3 here ->
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lostgirl677 · 10 months
Text
Nothing can stop me from loving you Part.1
MoC!Dean Winchester x Fem!Reader
Platonic!Sam Winchester x PlatonicFem!Reader
Established relationship
A/N: I had this idea for a while now and I had to modify a bit the original plot. I'm sorry if it's a bit out of character sometimes and if that's a bit crappy.
Masterlist
Since the Mark of Cain appeared on his arm, Dean had been different. Angrier, even more violent at times. But it has never stained the love I feel for him. I knew that deep down, he was still the brave man I fell in love with. Our relationship even became more passionate than ever at times. But he had to get rid of it as fast as possible. We lost a lot of people in the process. But the greatest loss was Dean himself. When Metatron killed Dean, it felt like he killed me at the same time somehow. No matter how many times I saw him die, it’s always like a piece of my very soul is taken away from me everytime. Even though it was very traumatic, I still couldn’t remember fully that evening, be it the moment we tried to keep pressure on his wounds, the whole ride back to the bunker or the moment we took Dean’s body to his room. Everything was a blur and numbness threatened to overtake sadness. I could barely remember having Dean’s head on my lap during the ride, my hands gently stroking his hair and whispering sweet words to him. 
It’s been hours and I still had a sore throat from desperately calling Cas for help. I knew that he wouldn’t have been able to help with his grace problem, but I wasn’t capable of thinking properly at that moment.So here I was, in a dimly lit room next to a lifeless Dean. Sam was somewhere else in the bunker, more than probably getting drunk. As I began to feel uncomfortable, I shifted position on the chair that I placed next to Dean’s bed. The more I looked at him, the more he looked asleep, despite his wounds. “Why did you have to try to handle it alone?” I whispered in my shattered voice while looking at his face. I couldn’t believe that he was dead again. When I reached out to grab his hand I couldn’t help but gasp a little. His hands were getting cold. Instinctively, I took his right hand in mine and tried to warm it. It took me a few seconds to realize it was utterly pointless. Tears were forming again at the corners of my eyes. I slowly got up and got closer to his bed. I couldn’t sit next to him, I knew that I would break in tears on his chest and that I would not feel his warmth nor his heartbeat. I just looked at him. Yesterday at that time, we were in this bed, laughing at one of his jokes. Just 24 hours earlier from this. Part of me knew that I needed to accept his death but the other part was clinging to the hope that he could come back.
In order to regain a bit of my sanity, I needed to walk a bit away from Dean and to take a deep breath. So I let go of his hand that I had in mine without even realizing it and walked toward the tiny sink. My breathing was heavy, but not heavier than my heart. I managed to open the faucet and I cupped my hands to gather a bit of cold water to wet my face. Its contact pricked my skin but it helped. As I raised my head, the first thing I saw in the medicine cabinet mirror was Dean. I came back next to him. I just leaned over him again.As I did so and gingerly brushed his face, I saw some of my tears falling on him. For a brief moment, I naively thought that maybe my tears could wake him up. But it only moistened the dried blood of his cuts, making it look like he was bleeding again. 
I suddenly felt on automatic and acted  as if he just came back wounded from another hunt. So I grabbed a first aid kit and a new flannel shirt in his closet. I then took a gauze that I soaked in antiseptic and began to wipe the blood.”It's going to hurt a little” I whispered. I almost expected him to flinch a little, but he didn’t. He was perfectly still. “Hey.” said Sam from the doorway, making me go back to reality. Even in the poor light of the room, I could see his red eyes and his tear stained cheeks.“I think you should come to eat something and maybe shower and change your clothes.” he said in a hushed tone. “Uh, no thanks. I have to clean his wounds and at least change his shirt. And…” He didn’t let me finish my sentence and embraced me in his arms. For a bit, it was calming. I noticed that he had a strong smell of alcohol. “It’s gonna be okay, Y/N.” He whispered as he stroked my back with his giant hands. “Dean wouldn’t like to see you in such a state for him.” I knew that he was right but I couldn’t reason myself. I turned my head to look at Dean one last time then looked at Sam again. I then realized how much of a terrible friend I was. “I’m sorry, Sam. I didn’t even ask you how you handle all of this.” He released me from his arms and looked at me. “It’s okay, don’t worry.” He simply said. I saw that he was about to cry again. He then directed me toward the door. “Now go to the kitchen to eat something, you need it.” “I’ll go. Just leave me a few minutes to grab clean clothes.” He looked at me as if he tried to analyze my face but said nothing. He just nodded his head and got out of the room.
As I made my way to the drawers, I tried to not look at him again. Even if I managed to, once in front of the drawers, I ended up with various pictures of Dean and his loved ones. I took them in my hands and tried to reminisce about better times. Some were with his parents or his friends, a lot with Sam and a bunch of just us. I swallowed the lump in my throat and when I had the picture of us, feeding each other a bite of pie, I put the pile of pictures down. I quickly opened the drawer and grabbed the first shirt I found. I walked toward the door and turned my head to whisper “I’ll come back, Dean. I promise. I love you.” Then I closed the door.
I knew that I wouldn’t be able to stomach any food and I needed to change my clothes. So I made my way to the bathroom that wasn’t far from Dean’s room. Once inside, I realized how terrible I looked under the crude light. I didn’t even realize that my flannel was completely stained in blood. Dean’s blood. That thought made me shiver. I quickly got out of my dirty clothes that I threw in a pile on the floor and changed into clean ones. All of them smelled exactly like him. I sighed while looking at my tired reflection and I got out of the bathroom. I was about to go back to his room but decided to go check up on Sam in the kitchen. I was barely halfway to the kitchen and I could already smell the strong smell of whiskey. The nearer I got, the more I tried to prepare myself to see a drunk Sam on the floor. I wanted to stop him from drinking that much but it was useless to argue. The Winchester were both so hardheaded. So, I entered the kitchen as quietly as I could but I found it empty and completely silent. There were so many bottles scattered on the floor that I had to carefully make my way to the counter. There was a plate with my favorite kind of sandwich on it. I didn’t have time to think about eating as a sudden anguish took over me. What if Sam made a terrible mistake? 
I ended up running in the bunker to try and find him. In my desperate search for Sam, something caught my attention and almost made me trip. Dean’s door was ajar and I remembered closing it behind me. The sudden smell of blown candles made me even more panicked. As I entered the room, his bed was empty. There was just a note. I grabbed it with a trembling hand and I read ‘Sammy, Y/N. Let me go’. I screamed at the top of my lungs “Sam! Sam!” I heard commotion on the corridors and stairs, indicating that Sam was running and that he almost fell. He suddenly appeared at the door “What happened? Are you okay?” he said, panting and trying to catch his breath. Then he looked at the bed and it seemed like realization had struck him. He was about to say something, but I didn’t let him speak. “Where’s Dean? What did you do?” I nearly screamed as I grabbed his shirt and showed him the note. He took the note in hand, read it and his expression changed. He then simply said “Crowley” I looked at him in disbelief.
“What did you just say?”I asked him with both my eyebrows raised and I looked him in the eyes. He sighed, closed his eyes and said “I summoned Crowley to help Dean and I guess that he revived him and they ran away.” I didn’t know whether what I felt was anger or a weird kind of relief to know that Dean was ‘alive’ because of/thanks to Crowley. I released my grip on Sam’s shirt and walked away from him. I could read the guilt on his face and I couldn’t blame him. I finally sighed a bit and walked toward him. “I’m sorry , Sam. I don’t blame you. At least he’s back to life. Now we just need to find him” We both knew that it wasn’t okay at all but I didn’t want to guilt him even more. His features seemed to relax a bit at my words but I sensed that he thought about the same issue. “They could be anywhere. Crowley is incredibly resourceful and he probably won’t want us to find them.” he said after a tiny silence. But he seemed to forget something: there had to be something that Crowley wanted out of this deal. “What did you give to Crowley to seal the deal?” Sam furrowed his eyebrows. “I didn’t make a deal with him but I wanted to. I tried to summon him but it didn’t seem to work. I guess that he decided to show up by himself.” His confession scared me a bit more. ”So, we don’t know what Crowley had in mind when he came here to resurrect Dean? Great…” We both knew what it meant: we had to find him as fast as we could before Crowley could put one of his twisted plans into action.
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@vikingqueen28 @mikromoon @hobby27 @multifandomnerd4532
Part.2
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Text
𝐋𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐀 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤 - 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫 (𝐓𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞𝐫)
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Pairing: Dean Winchester x Original Female Character
Warnings: Mature Content. Pining. Age-Gap. Angst. Fluff. Smut. Violence. Murder. Death. Alcohol Use. Depictions of Torture.
Each chapter will have it's own warning. I would include more but I don't wanna give anything away!
A/N: Likes, comments, and—most importantly—reblogs are always appreciated! Feel free to message me if you'd like to be added to the taglist. Enjoy!!!
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"Dean, please…" I stand frozen, staring at the man I love.
His legs stride toward me, closing our distance in seconds. He hovers over my petite figure, his intimidation only making me feel smaller.
"This isn't you."
"THIS IS THE NEW ME!" He shouts before grabbing my hair and pulling me close. "The old, weak, pathetic, scared little boy you knew is long gone. It's only me, and I'm not going anywhere…"
I watch as he flashes his black, demonic eyes. My hands fly up to his entangled one in my hair. I yank at it, struggling to be set free. Anger and lust take over his once expressionless face. His sharp gaze travels down to my shirt.
Nodding at it, he says, "Take it off."
My eyes widened, shocked by the words that came out of his mouth. I part my lips to say no, but nothing comes out. His unoccupied hand roughly grips my chin, forcing me to look into his dark green eyes. His thumb firmly drags across my bottom lip as he licks his own. My heart pounds louder as I desperately try to escape his grasp, knowing the sinful act he's planning to commit against me.
"Do it!" He yells, his voice resonating off the walls to make it seem louder, driving me to jump uncontrollably.
His gaze rakes over my face, taking notice of my fear. A slow and sinister smile spreads across his lips. A sick feeling descends into the pit of my stomach, knowing my fear is pleasing him.
I swallow hard when I hear him calmly but sternly say, "Or I'll do it for you."
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bccky · 10 months
Text
Souls Intertwined By Fate
Part 2
Pairing:  Dean Winchester X Reader
Summary: As soulmates, you can feel the exact intensity of pain as your other half when they get hurt. So what happens when your soulmate literally goes to hell?
Words: 1061
Warnings: descriptions of death, mention of suicide, angst, full discretion is adviced
A/N: revamped fic of my own. It's been almost an year since I posted the first part, I'm extremely sorry for the long pause hehe // Dividers by @firefly-graphics // hope you like this one Xx
⇤ PART 1
Supernatural Masterlist • Main Masterlist
Souls Intertwined By Fate Masterlist
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GIF by saucynewf
A shiver runs down your spine as you stand behind the Roadhouse, and you can't tell if it's because of the cold biting air or the green eyes that are trying to cloud your mind. 
There aren't many things that can scare you now, but now that you have found your soulmate, even thinking about him gives you shivers - and not the good kind.
"Thank you," You whisper to Jo as she sneaks a few bottles of the strongest rum through the backdoor. Your only objective now is to avoid Ellen and whoever that guy was. 
You don't want to know his name... It will make this all too real. 
"You owe me a big one." Jo says and you nod, wanting to cut your time here as short as possible.
Her questioning glances every few seconds are enough for you to know that she's just waiting for an opening to ask why you are suddenly stocking up on your favorite bottles of alcohol, and you're not ready to tell her why.
Realizing you forgot to bring your car to the back, you sigh, bidding farewell to Jo with a hug. 
You almost start running once she closes the door towards your car that you parked in the front, stashing your bag in the car, as you start the ignition. 
You're ready to step on the accelerator and be away from your soulmate, the person who's going to be your doom. You can't help but peek at the bar as you pass by and you're sure you see the dirty blond hair that is going to haunt your dreams from now on. 
The bottles Jo smuggled are just so that you can lay off from visiting the Road House as much as you can. 
It's no secret that whoever drops by the bar is sure to become a regular thanks to Ellen's hospitality, connections and knowledge of the supernatural, that is, unless anyone gives her a reason to clear off. 
The fear makes you drive as far as possible from the only people who you now call your family in search of hunts, but that doesn't mean you can run from what you have named as 'the Soulmates Curse'. 
You end up at a diner in a small town with a supposed haunted cabin in the nearby woods, taking a breath of relief as you see an empty seat by the window.
You put down all the resources you have on the table for the current case you're working on, using it as a distraction. 
But as you’re settling, a high pitched giggle catches your attention. There’s a family in the park near the diner which you can see clearly from your seat.
You get a weird feeling in your heart, a sense of longing for what you once had. The parents laze around on a picnic blanket, happily watching the children who are running around and playing with each other.
You wonder if you’ll ever get to live and love like that again.
“Hey,” a deep voice pulls you out of your chain of thoughts, and you look up to see a man with dark, gelled-back hair, a stubble gracing his genial smile, "You okay?" 
Not gonna lie, you feel like a high school girl starting to fall for the cute guy in class, your insides warm as your body feels flush.
“Yeah, I’m alright.” You say to yourself, although you know that it isn't true, it's the only way to convince your mind that you're doing the right thing by saving yourself from the inevitable heartbreak.  
“I’m Chris, your server for the evening. What can I get you?”
Chris’ deep brown eyes make you want to forget everything, and for some reason, it makes you feel like you’re cheating on your non-existent relationship.
 “Just a cheeseburger and fries, Chris. Thanks.”
“I’ll be right back.” He winks at you with another one of his charming smiles, and you almost melt.
Your mind is in overdrive now.
The happy family directly in your sights are confusing your one-track mind, making you want that kind of contentment in your life as well.
As Chris brings your order to your table, you can’t help but ask, “The town is quite charming, huh?”
He laughs, “Yep, just a small, peaceful town. Except for Old Neil’s Cabin, it’s a nice place to live. And if you don’t believe in ghost stories, we don’t have many problems here.”
And with that, your yearning mind starts planning out an ordinary life in this town, hoping that your soulmate will have a peaceful death and since you won’t be attached to him, you won't feel much when the inevitable happens.
If you get rid of the ghost, then you can see yourself getting old here, preferably with a handsome man like Chris, and have a little family.
Back at the Harvelle’s Roadhouse, Dean Winchester takes a sip of his beer and sighs, tapping on the wooden bar, deep in thought.
Sam is talking about something or the other with Jo, not paying mind to Dean, who honestly doesn’t care. He is too occupied with the girl from last night who has been making his heart skip a beat every few minutes as little things around him keep reminding him of you.
Dean smiles to himself as a warmth spreads in his heart, hopeful that you are having a good time, whoever, and wherever you are.
“What’s up with him?” Jo asks Sam softly, not wanting to rob him out of whatever was cheering him on.
“No one ever knows with him.” Sam shrugs, throwing an amusing smile at his brother, not that he noticed. “He has been a little hush since yesterday.”
“Jo,” Dean speaks out of the blue, bursting the bubble he had built around him.
“Yeah?” She replies, in anticipation of knowing what his next words will be, curious about what he had been contemplating all this while.
“Do you know a girl around our age in the hunting business?”
“To be quite frank, there are a lot. I can’t just tell who you’re talking about just from that.”
Dean takes the last drink out of his glass before turning towards Jo, giving her a serious look.  “She was here yesterday.”
“Oh, you mean Y/N?” 
And with that, Dean’s life takes a different turn again.
Part 3
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I’d love to hear what you think of it! Please like, reblog and comment to let me know Xx
I wanna get back into writing again, can you send in any requests or something? Thanks in advance :)
Wanna read more of my works? Check out the masterlist linked at the top!
I'm not tagging anyone this time because it has been so long since I last posted this series, or anything to be honest, so please let me know if you wanna be tagged in the next parts (let me know in the reblogs)!
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waynes-multiverse · 20 days
Text
Plastic Hearts – Part 22
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Pairing: Director!Dean Winchester x Actress!Reader
Series Summary: Los Angeles, 1985. Y/N’s a young actress without any success, hopping from one failed audition to the next until one desperate mistake brings her to her breaking point. Dean Winchester, on the other hand, is a grade A asshole and washed-up director at the end of his career, known for his godawful slasher movies in the 70s and his love for blow, booze, and women. Lost in the toxic Hollywood life, their paths cross when one hopeless little wrestling show changes their trajectory.
Chapter Warnings: +18, language, injuries, hospitals, jealousy, drug use, angst, smoking everywhere 'cause it's the 80s, girl fights, a whole lot of FLUFF
Word Count: 6.9k
A/N: Thank you guys so much for all your comments last week! So happy to bring these two idiots back to your screens of choice and give them an ending they deserve! Now, buckle up! We have some bitchy moments in this one 👀😇
<< 21 || Spotify Playlist || Series Masterlist || Main Masterlist
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22. Girls, Girls, Girls
The gym smells of blood, sweat, and tears tonight. More so than ever before. The tensions run high.
It’s the first live taping since the show’s official cancellation. The first three matches have already run their course, the rest of the women joining Dean in his office, using the platform as the perfect viewing room. It’s like an NFL suite at Super Bowl. Everyone’s drinking, celebrating, and has gathered here to watch the biggest match of the night:
Red Sparrow vs. Liberty Bell
Usually, the green-eyed director would be bothered by the constant chatting, shrieking, and yapping. But tonight, he could care less as he passed the director’s crown on to his spawn, leaving Claire to man the booth and direct the show on her own, putting her AV skills to the test.
After all, the show’s already canceled. What’s the worst that could happen? Might as well let a rebellious teenager call the shots. Who gives a shit! Isn’t it awesome to be this carefree?
“Can you guys keep it down?” Claire hisses with an annoyed roll of her eyes, her shoulders tense with stress as she tries to concentrate on the monitors. “I’m trying to direct a show here! I can’t fucking hear anything!”
Amused, Dean chuckles. Now, his daughter finally knows what it’s like to be in his shoes. He’s tried telling everyone for ages that these women are fucking annoying and that being a director ain’t easy.
While the women are busy talking up a storm and pay attention to the match, Dean sneaks to his desk and opens the first drawer. He pulls out his pack of cigarettes, but it’s not a smoke he’s in the mood for. To his surprise and shock, however, the little bag of white powder he hides in there is gone.
Did he put it somewhere else?
Frantically, he starts opening every drawer, moving stuff in and out of them. He rummages through his folders on his desk, sees if he placed it there somewhere, but it’s nowhere to be found. His green eyes then dart to his kid and an eerie feeling settles in his stomach. Surely, Claire didn’t take it, right?
Like father, like daughter, it echoes through his mind.
He always loved the fact that his kid was so much like him – the love for good movies, the humor, the sass, the sheer unabashed talent. But not in that regard. God, does he hope she didn’t inherit his drug addiction, too.
“Claire?” Dean knows he has to be careful in his questioning, not wanting to alert the other women in the room to the pressing issue. But his daughter skillfully ignores him, too focused on her current task. “CLAIRE?!” he barks loud enough to rattle the entire office.
Yeah, okay, that wasn’t as smooth and inconspicuous as he had hoped, but he’s fucking panicking on the inside, alright? He has entered worried dad mode.
Don’t act so fucking surprised, okay? He has evolved like man is supposed to do.
In all honesty, Dean wanted to get completely clean two weeks ago. As soon as Y/N waltzed into his office and slept with him, he swore he’d never touch the toxic and nasty stuff again. He was done, and this time, it’d be final. No going backsies. But he had one teeny-tiny baggy left, and well, he hates to be wasteful. So, his plan was to slowly stop and keep the withdrawals at a minimum. And it worked great so far. It hasn’t snowed in four fucking days.
“What?!” his kid grunts back, audaciously annoyed.
“Did you snoop through my drawers and take my smokes out?” Dean asks her in his best dad voice. He’s gotten quite good at it since he practiced it over the last few weeks.
Do your homework!
Eat your vegetables!
Tell that fucking boyfriend of yours to stop sneaking in through the window, or I’ll get my gun!
“No, I don’t smoke!” Claire huffs without missing a beat and doesn’t take her eyes off the monitors even once.
Dean believes her. Usually, when she lies, there are a few seconds of thinking that pass by before she comes up with a reasonable excuse. Not that he buys any of them, but whatever. This time, though, she answered right away, and he knows she has no idea what he’s even talking about.
So, did he misplace it? You’d think he’d be more careful with drug storage, but sometimes it’s a glass of whiskey too many, and stuff gets lost. Did he leave it in the car? Is it at home?
But then it dawns on him. Joanna.
The blonde storms into his office, forcing the director to look up. Her mascara is smeared across her cheeks, her hair disheveled and overall she seems upset and out of breath.
“I need my own goddamn dressing room,” Barbie demands. “I can’t get ready and in the right head space with all of these women down there. I’m the star of the show. Some of us need peace and quiet to wash the shit of the world from us before they have to fucking perform!”
“Whoa, whoa, easy, alright? Sit down,” Dean tells her calmly and gestures to the seat in front of him, where the blonde immediately plops down with an exhausted huff. “You can get ready in my office tonight, okay? You want a drink? You look like you need one.”
Jo nods with a sniffle and accepts the flask he’s offering her, almost downing the whole thing.
“What’s going on? You good?” Dean checks. Usually, he wouldn’t care about the blonde’s feelings, but since she’s up against Y/N tonight, he wants to assure himself nothing goes wrong.
“Yeah, it’s just… Sam.” She scoffs and takes another swig. “He’s got a new girlfriend. His secretary, Jessica.” The blonde rolls her eyes at the name. “Who knows how long he’s been fucking her. Our divorce isn’t even final.”
Dean nods understandingly as he rises from his chair and pats the blonde’s shoulder. “I know. Divorce is shitty. You’ll get through this. Trust me.”
“Shit…” Dean mumbles.
He left an emotionally vulnerable woman alone in his office with a bunch of booze and drugs. How could he be this stupid and reckless? He doesn’t even suspect Jo took the coke on purpose. She was probably looking for a smoke and stumbled upon it, thinking, “What the hell? My day is already shit, maybe this makes it better.”
Dean knows because it’s usually what he thinks as well when he’s at his lowest. How do you think he got addicted to drugs in the first place, huh?
Here’s how: two divorces and a failing career.
“Boss?”
“Dean?!”
“Dad!”
The green-eyed director snaps out of his thoughts and turns to the room full of women upon their calling, all of them looking quite panicked and worried. It’s like a fox got loose in the coop.
His brow furrows as he approaches the booth and big windows, trying to see where the concern is coming from. “What? What’s going on?”
“I think there’s something wrong, boss,” Donna informs him. “That’s not the fight they’ve practiced during training. They’re going off script.”
Fucking shit…
“Dean, what the hell is going on?” Billie cocks an eyebrow at the director, but he can’t get himself to focus or reply as his green eyes are glued to the match downstairs.
Dean’s too cynical to believe in a God and has certainly never prayed before, but tonight he can’t help it and utter a quiet prayer, hoping for a goddamn miracle.
His heart is racing as he watches the match unfold. There’s nothing he can do about it. Nothing can stop it. It’s like watching a fucking car crash as a bystander on the sidewalk.
Looking at Y/N’s face, he can see that she’s panicking as well and getting scared. It breaks his goddamn heart. The actress tries to talk to the blonde and get through to her but to no avail. Killer Barbie is on a mission, and her target is clearly Y/N.
And then, it all happens fast. Jo throws Y/N onto the mat and grabs her leg, raising it up by the ankle. There are tears in Y/N’s eyes before an audible crack echoes through the gym. Y/N screams out in pain. Jo drops her foot and backs away in shock, hands high in the air. The entire gym becomes mum, only a few quiet gasps uttered by the audience bounce off the tall walls.
Dean’s heart is about to explode as he bolts down the stairs and almost takes a fall. He hasn’t even reached the ring yet and assessed the damage, but he already blames himself. This is all his fucking fault. Donna warned him, and he didn’t listen. Y/N was obviously not fine, and neither was Jo. How many goddamn warning signs did he choose to ignore? And for what? For fucking ratings no one even cares about?
Y/N’s agonizing scream rings in his ears as the director makes his way to her. Rufus is already there in his referee costume, trying to help her as best as he can. Dean’s so close he can practically count the steps to the ring. Has this gym always been this huge? It feels like he’s been running a mile.
But then, he’s abruptly stopped by Cas’ announcer voice and what his green eyes find unfolding in front of him.
“And here comes a camera guy to save our Russian warrior!”
Oh hell, no!
Dean should probably be glad that someone is helping her and not let his jealousy win. But does that someone really have to be fucking Benny of all people? The green-eyed director truly thought he was done worrying about that guy. Now, however, he has to watch that douchebag heroically carry Y/N out of the ring while the audience cheers and claps.
It’s his worst goddamn nightmare. Well, that and Y/N getting hurt in the first place.
“Put her down,” Dean demands fiercely as he faces Benny, his blood boiling as he watches the actress hold on to the guy’s neck and wince in pain. A bit of guilt mixes with his jealousy at that.
Don’t be an asshole. Focus, he reminds himself. Y/N’s more important than your fucking ego.
“What? No,” Benny denies his request with a confused and irritated frown.
“That’s an order,” Dean grits boldly.
“I don’t care. She’s hurt,” Benny snaps back with emphasis and acts like Dean doesn’t know what that means. “Fucking fire me if you have a problem with that. The show’s done anyways.”
That fucking little prick…
Dean purses his lips in frustration. What is he supposed to do now? Rip her from the guy’s arms? Start a fist fight?
“I can take her. I’ll drive her to a hospital,” the director insists with a little more reasoning.
“Let’s take my limo! There’s enough space for her,” Ruby chimes in as the whole pack of women flock to the rescue and worryingly gather around Y/N.
Great. More helping hands is what Dean needs right now.
“No, we’re taking my car,” Dean maintains, trying to remain calm amongst the concerned chatter. “Baby’s backseat got plenty of space, alright?”
“True,” Bela agrees with a dirty smirk.
Dean sighs, Billie rolls her eyes, and Y/N frowns at that. Dear God, these fucking women…
“How about we ask Y/N what she wants, huh?” Dean proposes, knowing the actress will surely pick him. God knows she’s picked him yesterday all night long…
Benny smiles as if he could win this battle. “Fine.”
“Y/N, sweetheart, what d’you want? Who do you wanna go with, huh?” Dean asks, lowering himself down to her with a gentle look in his eyes and a warm, caring smile.
“I don’t care!” Y/N whines with pained features and a high level of annoyance. “I just wanna go to a hospital! Any hospital in any car.”
Fair enough, Dean thinks dejectedly. Still, she could’ve done him a favor and picked him. He hates losing to a fucking camera operator.
“My limo it is!” Ruby exclaims and bolts ahead to the parking lot, keys jiggling in the air.
With a triumphant smirk, Benny turns and follows Valley girl outside, Dean swallowing down the urge to punch the guy as Y/N throws him an apologetic look over camera guy’s shoulder.
These fucking women…
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Dean has floored the gas pedal of the Impala, but it’s fucking LA, so an hour was spent standing in traffic on the freeway. Moreover, he had to gather Claire and Cas as well and check on Jo, while Benny and the girls were already at the hospital with Y/N.
When Dean finally arrives, he rushes through the glass doors into the waiting area of the emergency room, Cas and Claire on his heels. His group is easy to spot, considering they’re all still in their fucking wrestling costumes.
His hands ball into fists when he sees Benny holding an ice pack to her injured ankle as she sits in a wheelchair, the girls scattered around Y/N on creaky hospital seats as they keep her company. He hates that camera guy is taking care of his girl. It should be him by her side, not some fucking footnote in this story.
“Hey, what the fuck is going on? Why is she still waiting?” Dean asks furiously, charging in full-throttle. His heart is burning for Y/N, and nothing can extinguish it.
Hell, if she isn’t getting help soon, he’ll burn this goddamn hospital down.
“Because she’s not a gunshot wound?” Ruby answers wryly, earning her glare.
But Dean supposes party girl has a point. It’s an LA hospital in a bad neighborhood.
“Want me to lick your wound? Saliva helps with blood clotting,” Meg offers as she holds Y/N’s hand tightly.
“She’s not even bleeding,” Cassie counters with a raised brow.
“She might be bleeding internally,” Meg argues and places her palm on Y/N’s forehead, taking her temperature.
“Stop it! You’re freaking her out,” Charlie scolds from the seat behind her.
“Why is this taking so long? My friend is in pain! Do you hear me?” Meg whines, calling to the nurses’ station.
Why are girls so exhausting? That question has been running around Dean’s mind for months now. He’s still lacking an answer.
Ignoring the female turmoil around him, Dean lowers himself down in front of Y/N and finds her eyes, smiling gently. “Hey, sweetheart. How are you doing, huh?”
“Dean!” Y/N smiles broadly when she recognizes him, her face lighting up and beaming brighter than the fluorescent lights above her. It warms his heart.
The director’s head then tilts slightly, inspecting her closer. She seems awfully chipper for someone in pain. Her pupils are gigantic, too.
Ruby leans in and whispers, “I gave her a Valium… and then half a Klonopin.”
Ah. There it is. She’s fucking high. That explains it.
Dean reaches out his hand and caresses her pink cheek, feeling her lean into his touch. “You feeling good, sweetheart?”
“I’m awesome,” she replies with a drowsy giggle.
He grins. “Yeah, I bet you are…”
Is it weird he’d like to fuck her in this state? Right, probably not a good time to ask those questions. (But he swears he wouldn’t take advantage of her. Just play with her and test her senses a little.)
“You’re so pretty,” Y/N tells him dreamily, making him blush hard as she touches a few strands of his hair and plays with them.
“And the first pill is kicking in,” Ruby notes, amused.
A nurse then finally walks into the waiting room with a tired gleam in her eyes and clears her throat to catch everyone’s attention. Dean can’t blame her. He knows it’s like a fucking circus in here.
“Good news. We have a bed ready, so I’ll take her back and all of you can leave?” the nurse explains and looks at the wolf pack hopefully.
Meg stares her dead in the eyes and replies flatly, “Not a chance.”
Yeah, Dean could’ve told that nurse those girls weren’t going anywhere.
Benny rises from his position and attempts to push Y/N’s wheelchair, following the nurse. But Dean will be damned if he lets him. Provocatively, he pushes the camera guy aside and scowls at him, making his territory and claim clear. The girls aren’t the only wolves in this waiting room.
“I got her. You can leave,” Dean growls with a deathly stare. “My show, my actress. I’m the director, and she’s my fucking responsibility, got it?”
Benny raises his palms in surrender and takes a step back. He already knew he lost when Y/N only had eyes for Dean as soon as the director showed up. A pill-high never lies.
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The nurse helps Y/N into a bed in a small, quiet room. As they wait for a doctor, Dean impatiently paces the room, fuming away on his smoke. If you can’t tell, he’s far away from relaxed.
A man in a white coat with a friendly smile then finally strolls in and introduces himself. “Hello there, Y/N Y/L/N. I’m Dr. Gabriel Piccolo. Are you with the circus?”
Dr. Sexy, as Dean refers to the guy, lifts an eyebrow at Y/N’s unusual costume. You’d think as a doctor at a hospital in Hollywood, he’d see more people like this.
“I’m an actress on a wrestling TV show,” Y/N replies, not offended by his question in the slightest.
“Oh, uhm, I’ll have to watch it,” Dr. Sexy says politely and then gets straight down to business, cocking his head at her injured leg. “Okay, so left ankle. We’re gonna have to cut off this boot.”
“Oh! No, no, no. Sorry, these are important.” Y/N protectively throws herself over her knee-high army boot.
Dean sighs a little. Even high on pills and in unbearable pain, Y/N still prioritizes her silly job. “Alright, Doc. I got it,” the director relents and shoots the man a look.
Carefully, Dean unties her laces, loosening the shoe enough. “I’m gonna go slow, sweetheart. Just take it easy, alright?”
Dean flashes her a smirk and watches as she bites down on her lower lip, nodding. She inhales sharply and whimpers when he slips the boot off her foot. His fingers smooth over her leg, soothe the skin, and elicit a shudder from her. He can tell the action turned her on, can see the goosebumps rise on her arms as she presses her thighs together. He can practically hear her drip.
He smirks devilishly. Y/N sends him a knowing frown.
Dr. Sexy clears his throat and interrupts their heated moment, causing Y/N’s cheeks to flush furiously.
The doctor then assesses her ankle. It’s swollen and the skin a purplish-blue. Dean knows it doesn’t fucking look good. He guesses it’s not a simple sprain.
“Can you feel your toes? Can you wiggle them?” the doc checks. Y/N does as asked and moves her toes as best as she can. It’s not much though before she winces in pain. “How does that feel?”
Dr. Sexy touches the swell on her ankle, and Y/N squeezes her eyes shut and locks her jaw, a tear rolling down her cheek.
“Fucking hurts,” she grits through strained teeth.
“Okay, we’re gonna take some X-rays. See what we’ve got,” the doc finally says and disappears out of the room.
Y/N exhales an exhaustive breath and looks at the director. “Distract me,” she prompts with desperate eyes.
“Well, I’m not gonna be my regular chipper self,” Dean quips, making her laugh. He smiles, too, and leans in closer. “How about this?”
He wiggles his eyebrows and then dips his head, claiming her lips in a blistering kiss that makes her legs quiver. His tongue slips inside her mouth, swipes deep as teeth scrape her lower lip. Upon her first moan, he draws back with a smug smile.
He leans close to her ear, whispering against her shell, “You know if curling your toes didn’t hurt, I’d make you come so fast on my fingers right now, baby girl.”
Her eyes widen. She gasps and gently hits his arm in a scolding manner. “Dean!”
“What?” He chuckles and pecks her crown. “It’ll be alright. Don’t worry so much, okay?”
The girls then soon flood the room, one by one providing endless entertainment that surely no other patient at this hospital receives. Y/N’s a fucking star here, although she always is to Dean.
First, there was Claire, who practically emptied the vending machine, buying sweets and snacks for every taste (with Dean’s money). He’s nothing more than a wallet to that girl.
Meg, on the other hand, stole more pillows and blankets from other patients, making sure Y/N was as comfortable as possible. Ruby read Cosmopolitan to her and filled out the magazine’s sex quiz, intriguing Dean a lot.
Every girl pretty much brought their unique sense of entertainment, making Y/N laugh and smile so much she almost forgot why she was here. Only one woman was missing from the wolf pack – Joanna.
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As Y/N is finally wheeled away to her X-rays, Dean decides to join the other women in the waiting room. He’s more than happy to discover that Benny actually left when he can’t catch sight of the guy anymore.
Guess the director is the true winner, after all.
Donna then approaches Cas, who’s nervously sucking on a cigarette in the corner by the vending machine, and hands him a clipboard with a hospital form.
“Y/N doesn’t have insurance, and we don’t know what to fill out,” the blonde tells him and meekly saunters back to her seat.
Cas frowns and looks at the women in disbelief. “How could she not have insurance? She’s a professional wrestler.”
Billie arches a sarcastic eyebrow at that and replies wryly, “Yeah, employed by Novak Productions, who doesn’t provide health care.”
Cas swallows guiltily and purses his lips. “How many of you don’t have insurance?”
Almost every woman in the room raises their hand, except for Jo, Billie, and party girl.
That tracks, Dean thinks and is not the least bit surprised. Judging by Cas’ shocked expression, though, this revelation clearly shatters the privileged rich boy’s world.
The producer nods earnestly. “This is my responsibility, and I will take care of it,” he promises. Dean gives him a pat on the back, letting Cas know he’s doing the right thing. If the producer hadn’t footed Y/N’s bill, Dean surely would have.
The director then glances around the waiting area, noticing the sad faces and depressed mood. “Alright, she’s not dying, okay?” he tells them and catches their attention. “You guys did a great show tonight. Why don’t you go back to the motel?”
“Great?” Donna cocks a brow at his word choice. “We were amazing.”
Charlie looks up at him, a hopeful look in her eyes as her red hair shimmers in the fluorescent light. “You think we get our old time slot back, Dean?”
Dean smacks his lips, scratching the scruff on his chin. He then shakes his head. He can’t lie to them. Knowing what he knows, he also knows it’s over. “No, I don’t. I think we’re gonna die at 2am… But we’ll die on our own terms, alright?”
Nodding, Ruby sighs loudly. “I’ll drive everybody home. And then, we get drunk while we ice our knees.”
As the girls start to gather their belongings and rise from their seats, Jo rushes through the glass doors. The women punish her with little glares on their way out. No one buys it was an innocent accident. In fact, Dean’s pretty sure the wolf pack believes the blonde tried to murder their beloved leader.
Dean, however, doesn’t.
“She’s in room 3,” he tells Jo without further comment.
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The green-eyed director didn’t know what he had expected when he sent Joanna into Y/N’s room. Maybe that they’d talk like adults, get it all out in the open, and finally make amends. Be best friends again.
But maybe that was a little naive of him.
It all started out innocently. Dr. Sexy entered the room with a set of X-rays and left happily a few minutes later. Meanwhile, Dean and Cas smoked in the hospital’s corridor and drank the most awful-tasting coffee out of plastic cups.
Then, the mood started to shift. The guys could hear the girls arguing with slightly raised voices, just loud enough for it to drown out into the hallway.
“Eight to ten weeks? It’s not that long,” Jo could be heard saying.
“It’s the rest of the season. I won’t be on the show,” Y/N threw in through gritted teeth. Dean could hear the upset in her voice.
Jo scoffed, brushing it off. “Well, we’re getting canceled anyways, so… It’s just a job, you know.”
“No, it’s not!” Y/N’s voice went up a notch in volume. Dean knew she was close to reaching a boiling point. This wasn’t good.
“Okay, geez, you don’t have to lash out at me. I did not mean to break your ankle, okay?” Jo countered, pushing all blame off her.
“I don’t fucking believe you!”
And that was the turning point. That’s when the yelling started. The one that could be heard throughout the hospital, spilling into every room and probably several floors.
“No, no, no…. See, that was an accident, Y/N,” Jo says with a jittery voice. “Unlike the time you accidentally fucked my husband! TWICE!”
“You made out with my prom date on prom night!”
“That is not the same thing, and you know it!”
“Oh? Is it the same thing when you hooked up with your co-star at your stupid soap wrap party one week before you got married? And coincidentally, Sammy was born nine months later! Is he even Sam’s? ‘Cause he looks a whole lot like what‘s-his-face!”
“How dare you!”
“You didn’t even love Sam! You only married him for his money!”
“You don’t have the fucking right to say anything about my marriage!”
Cas swallows down a big gulp of coffee, sharing a nervously concerned look with Dean. “Should we, you know, go in there?”
Dean’s eyes widen as he vividly shakes his head. “Fuck no! Are you nuts? We stay right here. Look, men are simple. They throw a few punches and then share a drink. And women… Well, women do fucking this. Bottle everything up, even for years sometimes, till it fucking explodes. Trust me, they need this. Let ‘em get it outta their system.”
Fucking women…
“Oh, do I have the right to talk about your power complex?” Y/N yells. “Or do I have to schedule a meeting with all the producers?”
“I’ve earned my title!”
“Right, your fucking work ethic is legendary! I’m so sick and tired of apologizing about Sam! I don’t care anymore! I have eaten shit for months! I have done everything I can think of to make this right!”
“You can’t make it right!”
“Great! Then I’ll stop trying!”
“Fine!”
“Yeah, fine like you telling me I should get raped to save our show! The show you don’t give a shit about!”
“God, you’re so melodramatic! I just figured you’re already screwing our director for attention, what’s one more network executive!”
Cas blinks at Dean with wide eyes and a raised brow. “Are you-… Are you and Y/N dating?”
Dean averts his eyes to the blue wall opposite him and wordlessly sips his coffee. He has a feeling the girls’ fight is about to take a turn, going into a direction he doesn’t particularly care for. Why can’t they just leave him out of it?
Cas, however, takes Dean’s silence as what it is – an admission. The producer’s face lights up with joy. He excitedly rubs Dean’s shoulder and gasps giddily. “That’s so great! You haven’t dated anyone since Amara! I’m so happy for you! I love Y/N! Are you guys getting married? Did you buy a ring? Can I be best man? You know what they say, third time’s the charm!”
Dean scowls at the producer and heaves a deep sigh. “Calm the fuck down, would you? No one’s getting married.”
“Go to hell! I’m not fucking Dean, okay?” Y/N denies Jo’s accusation loudly.
Dean thinks she’s a hell of an actress. If he didn’t know for a fact that he was balls-deep inside her last night, he would’ve bought that little lie.
“Oh please! It’s so obvious!” Jo counters. Dean can practically hear the exhaustive eye roll that followed. “He’s following you around the gym like a lovesick puppy!”
That’s what Dean was afraid of. He does not like where this conversation is headed.
“He is not! Shut the fuck up!”
“Are you really trying to fucking lie to me, right now? I’ve known you since middle school!” Jo snaps. “And he certainly fits your glorious dating choices! Drug addiction? Check! Asshole? Check! Commitment issues? Check! He’s perfect for you. I’m surprised your slutty ass didn’t jump him the first day!”
“Oh, fuck you, you fucking bitch!”
“Slut!”
“Whore!”
Then, more yelling, more accusations, and more tears follow before Jo storms out of the room and bolts past the boys down the hallway.
Fucking girls…
“I’ve never felt so guilty about anything,” Cas mumbles next to him, completely distraught and shaken.
Dean scoffs. “Geez, you’ve lived a charmed life.”
“Thought I was gonna have a wrestling show, and no one was gonna get injured?” Cas shakes his head at his own nonsense. “What the fuck is wrong with me? I destroyed our little family! I mean, Y/N is a gimp.”
The director rolls his eyes and sighs. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. She’ll go on to have a full life, okay?”
Somehow that causes Cas to smile cheekily. He nudges the director’s shoulder. “With you?”
Dean sends him a thundering glare and dumps his burning cigarette bud into the producer’s coffee cup as he walks past him and returns to Y/N’s room.
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Dean sat quietly next to Y/N as a nurse put a cast on her leg. The ankle, much like the women’s friendship, was broken, and the actress was out of commission for the foreseeable future. She hadn’t spoken a word yet, only sniffling and crying silently to herself. Dean left her alone and only handed her a tissue every now and then, figuring she needed some time to calm down and think. But he still wanted her to know he was there in case she needed him.
As the nurse finally leaves, Dean reaches out his hand and takes hers, drawing comforting circles on the back of it. Patiently, he waits till she’s ready to look at him.
“Well, I won’t be needing these anymore,” Y/N mutters with a pout and dumps her army boots on the little bedside table. “You should give them to Claire. She’d make a great replacement Red Sparrow.”
Dean purses his lips. It takes a lot out of him not to roll his eyes at her dramatization. He supposes that’s what he gets for falling in love with a goddamn actress – fucking theater no less. But he knows she’s really going through it right now, so he’s willing to cut her some slack.
“Relax, I’m not giving your part away,” he assures her with an easy smile.
“Well, you have to, if you want to keep the storyline moving forward,” she mumbles grumpily.
“Who cares? It’s just a TV show,” Dean argues.
However, that particular line seems to anger her. “Everyone keeps saying that. It’s not to me,” she contends and finds his eyes, her teary-eyed and desperate look boring into him. “I have people now. People who come with me to the ER. People who care if I’m hurt.”
Dean nods his head in understanding. He knows Cas and Y/N are essentially right, as much as it hurts him to admit it. They are a little family – a weird and incredibly dysfunctional one, but a family nonetheless.
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just the easiest thing to say, you know?” he says and lets out a sigh. He rests his palm on her thigh and squeezes reassuringly. “How’s this? I don’t wanna make this show without you. I’m not gonna make this show without you.”
Y/N sucks in her lips, forming a tight line as she stares at her hands in her lap. “I thought we were all replaceable.”
Dean’s lips twitch with a smile. He lifts her chin, forcing her to look at him. “Well, you’re not, sweetheart.”
He leans closer and kisses her ardently till her toes curl. When she hisses slightly in pain, he pulls back, both of them chuckling.
Then, Dean swallows the heavy lump in his throat. He knows he has to come clean, literally and figuratively. He takes her hand in his again. This time for his own comfort.
“Listen, uhm, tonight was kinda my fault… on some level, at least,” the director starts.
Y/N’s brow creases, but she brushes it off with a disbelieving snort. “Why? Did you tell Jo to break my ankle?”
Dean chuckles lightly, although he doesn’t feel like laughing, considering he’s scared to death she’ll dump him in a few seconds once she hears the truth. “No, uhm, but she might’ve found something in my office that caused a lack of judgment on her part. I-, uhm, I might not have been as clean and drug-free as you believed me to be.”
“Oh. I see…” Y/N bites her lower lip and averts her gaze back to her hands, her fingers fumbling in a nonsensical pattern like a nervous tic. And then, she doesn’t say anything for serval minutes, while Dean slowly feels himself go crazy.
“So, uh, where do we stand? Are we mad? Disappointed? Disgusted? Sad?” Dean pries and pokes for an answer.
“I guess, uhm, disappointed,” she says finally. Dean sighs internally as his heart tightens. He had hoped it wouldn’t be that one. It’s the worst one. “And sad,” she adds.
Strike that. This is the worst one.
“Okay, uhm, good,” he replies before noticing her cocked brow at his answer. “I mean, not good-good, obviously. Just good to know where we are… So, where are we? Is this-, you know, is it over? Between us?”
Y/N glances at him slightly and takes a thoughtful breath. “No,” she says, and his heart rejoices with relief. “I kinda already knew you’re not perfect.”
Dean’s brow furrows momentarily before he smirks cockily. “Agree to disagree.”
Y/N tries to hide a smile at his joke. She’s unsuccessful in her endeavor. She squeezes his hand in reassurance. “It’s not your fault. It was still Jo’s choice,” she tells him. “Are you, you know, still…?”
Dean vehemently shakes his head. “No, no, I’m not. I haven’t for a couple of days, and I won’t anymore. I promise. Especially after tonight. I learned my lesson. I’m done with it. For good.”
“Okay,” she accepts.
Dean frowns a little because her forgiveness feels too easy, but he doesn’t get a chance to prod some more, her soft lips on his shutting him up for now. The kiss is fervent and sweet all the same. It makes his head spin and provides him with a completely different high – a much better one.
“Well, looks like we’re gonna have to get creative with this thing, huh?” Dean grins smugly and gently pats her cast.
Y/N throws him a raised look that borders on amusement. Of course, all he ever thinks about is sex. But she doesn’t mind a little sexy goofiness in her life right now and leans in for another kiss. He is a pretty fantastic kisser, after all.
“I got markers!” Cas hops cheerily into the room with a few pens held high in the air, watching the two of them quickly pull apart with red-tinted cheeks. The producer smiles adoringly at them. “You guys! Look at you! This is so exciting!”
“Oh, uh–”
Dean sees the panic spread on Y/N’s face and quickly swoops in, sending Cas a friendly but threatening look. “Hey, uh, buddy? Keep this between us, alright?”
“You got it! My lips are sealed.” Cas winks and locks his lips with his fingers, but his excitement isn’t even close to disappearing. “And I paid your bill, by the way!”
“Oh, Cas, you didn’t have to do that,” Y/N tells him sweetly and seems clearly flattered by his care.
“Yes, I did, ‘cause you couldn’t possibly afford it,” Cas says bluntly and uncaps a marker, signing his name on her cast. “And I felt so guilty.”
A knock on the door makes the three look up and watch Jo hesitantly amble inside, her head lowered in resignation and guilty admission. She holds up a duffel bag with a nervous smile.
“I thought you might wanna leave the hospital with pants on, so I brought you your favorite sweats from the motel,” she says and hands Y/N the peace offering. Y/N accepts it with a small smile. Jo then glances awkwardly at Dean and Cas. “As you may have heard, Y/N and I got into a big fight,” she explains the general tension in the room.
Dean nods curtly. “Oh, yeah, everybody heard.”
“Yeah, the cashier at the gift shop couldn’t stop talking about it.” Cas chuckles, causing Y/N and Jo to blush in embarrassment.
“So, what’s the plan, Dean?” Y/N looks expectantly up at him like he’s an oracle with all the answers.
Lucky for her, though, he’s cocky enough to provide them.
“You know what? We got four episodes left, right? Fuck it. No one’s watching. No one cares. Y/N can’t even walk. So I say we do whatever the hell we want,” the director suggests and grins broadly. “Let’s just set the weirdos free and see what the fuck happens.”
“I hope you guys have fun,” Y/N mutters with a hint of bitterness in her voice.
“Oh, you’re not getting out of it,” Dean interjects her pouting and self-pity. “You’re like a one-woman idea machine. I need you. Where we’re going, you don’t need legs.”
Jo smiles encouragingly at her and sits down on the edge of the bed as Cas hands her a marker. The two women then chat as if nothing ever happened, while the producer and the director share a confused look over the sudden ceasefire. But they take it as what it is – a gift from above.
Girls…
“Hey, uh, there’s something I need to do,” Dean says then. “Are you guys okay here to keep Y/N some company? I’ll pick you up right after.”
The three of them nod, and Dean feels confident enough to leave Y/N’s side. After all the emotional turmoil and chaos over the last week, the director direly needs an appropriate outlet.
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The Impala pulls into the parking lot of H-ELLTV in Anaheim. It’s early in the morning, the sun barely up but still powerful enough that the beams sting his green eyes. Maybe it’s also the lack of sleep that causes it to hurt more.
Drugs aren’t an option. It’s too early to drink, even for him. And sex would’ve been possible, but he doesn’t want to be the ass that asks for it while his not-girlfriend is suffering in the hospital.
So, here he stands, next to Dicksuck Roman’s spot, where a beautiful dark blue Aston Martin V8 is parked.
Ever since Y/N told him what that creep tried to do, Dean’s been raking his brain with different revenge fantasies. Sure, he could cut off the guy’s dick and make him eat it, or cook his balls over a BBQ grill, or chop his head off and dunk it in acidic cleaning supplies. But Dean knows the only way to truly hurt a man is through his car.
The green-eyed director then pops open Baby’s trunk and hauls out a golf club. It was a gift from Cas that came with an invitation to hit the green in Pasadena for “networking purposes.” As if. Cas eventually accepted that Dean would rather kill himself before setting foot in that country club. (He might’ve also threatened to kill everyone else in it, which scared Cas enough to drop it.)
Dean’s heart soars high to the cloudless sky above as he administers the first few blows, shattering the front window and thoroughly denting the scratch-free and glistening hood.
Not anymore, Dean thinks with sinister joy.
He stops mid-swing, though, when Crowley walks by. The two men look at each other for a moment. Will the manager call the cops? Will Cas have to post bail on top of paying hospital bills?
But Crowley only bobs his head in acknowledgment. “He pisses off a lot of people,” he offers as an explanation and strolls ahead into the building, not paying Dean any more mind.
So, Dean continues hitting and swinging and batting until his lungs burn and his arms hurt. Only then does he drive back to the hospital across town to pick up his friends with a lightener heart.
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23. Every Breath you Take
*sighs blissfully* Aah, some sweet fluff before all the drama starts... (And yes, I consider this chapter less drama and lots of fluff. That's how far we've come 😂)
Let me know how you've enjoyed this part! Are we rid of Benny for good? Is Y/N going to break Dean's plastic heart? 👀
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dw19791967 · 2 months
Text
That Type of Girl Part 4
Pairing: Dean x reader (Eventual), Sam x reader (Platonic)
Warnings: language, unrequited love, angst, mentions of torture, mentions of self-hate, fluff.
This is the fourth fic I have ever written, all mistakes are my own. Please be gentle on me!
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Dean's POV:
“Where the hell is she Sam?” I was pissed. Why the hell would she open the door without us being here.
“I’m not sure man, I’m looking. I promise we will find her.” Sam was searching on his laptop.
“I think it’s that Rick dude she mentioned, I mean she knew something was up with him. I don’t understand why she would be so stupid.” I can’t lose her. She is my best friend.
“Looks like there are two possibilities for where he would take her, he must have smashed her phone because I can’t pick up a GPS signal.” Sam looked at me.
“Where was the last location ping?” I looked at Sam’s screen.
“There, it’s that one.” I pointed to the closet location. Close to where her phone pinged. “Let’s go get my girl.”
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Y/N's POV:
God, I can’t wait for the ass chewing the boys are gonna give me. Anything is better than listening to Rick whine and groan about how much he hates women. It’s been about five hours since he took me. He has sliced me more than a Christmas ham. I guess better me than some other helpless woman.
“Wondering when your saviors will come, sweet Y/N?” Rick started working his way towards me again.
“Actually I was wondering something about you. Why is it you pick women to prey on, hmm? Worried a big strong man would be able to see through your BS?” I smirked at Rick.
“You know you are one annoying bitch, Jesus how do the Winchesters put up with you?” 
Rick smacked me across the face. Hard enough to make my mouth bleed.
“What can I say, I am a joy to be around.” I pray the boys are close.
Rick starts to come close to my face. “As soon as your big giants get here, we can really get this party started. That is if they come to save your fatass.” 
I spit blood in his face. “Aw thank you for the compliment, I actually don’t think I have much of an ass but if you do, well it must be true.” I smiled at him.
“You bitch, you are so dead!” Rick lunged towards me. I am exhausted, I can’t even keep my eyes open at this point. Guess this is the end.
“Hey asshole!” Dean rushed into the building.
“Well, looky here sweet Y/N. It looks like they came to save you after all.” Rick walked towards Dean.
“You know, I have been more annoyed in the last five hours than I think I have been my whole life. I give you props for not kicking her to the curb. Why don’t I do you and your idiot brother a favor and kill her now?” 
“Listen, Rick is it? I don’t know what the hell your problem is and frankly I don’t give a damn. What do you say I do you a favor and kill you quickly?”
Rick glared at Dean.
“Well, suit yourself I guess. We will do this the hard way.” Dean smirked.
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The next thing I know I am waking up in the backseat of baby. 
“Hey Y/N we are almost back to the motel, then we will get you patched up alright?” Sam looked over the front seat at me.
I turned over and closed my eyes, sleep seemed like the best idea right now.
I felt the car park. I opened my eyes to see the driver door slam. Great Dean’s pissed, just what I need tonight.
“He’s pissed right?” I asked Sam.
“He was just worried about you, we both were Y/N.” Sam pats my hand.
Once inside the room I sat down at the table. Dean glared at me from his side of the bed.
“I will let Dean patch you up, I’ll go grab us something to eat. Burgers ok?” Sam looked at me.
“Yeah that is fine, thanks Sam.” I gave him a slight smile to show that I am ok.
With Sam gone the room filled with awkward silence. I hate having Dean mad at me.
“You know it was incredibly stupid for you to open the door without back up right?” Dean moved towards me.
“I know Dean.” I sighed. I hope he makes this ass chewing fast.
“What would have happened if me and Sammy didn’t make it there in time Y/N? Do you know how that would have mad us feel?!” Dean is radiating anger. He was pacing the room.
“I know Dean, I’m sorry I really am. I thought it was you or Sammy at the door. I promise I wouldn’t have opened it, if I knew it was him.” I started to cry. If I cried it meant one of three things. I was really really happy, I was angry, or I was sad. It is a mixture of two and three right now.
“I know I am an idiot and I should have been more careful, I promise I will try to be better.” I looked at Dean with tears in my eyes. I hated disappointing him.
Dean sighed. “Look sweetheart, I care about you a lot, I just don’t want to think about if something bad happened to you and I wasn’t there to stop it.”
“I know Dean, I am really freaking sorry.” I moved my leg towards him and winched. Damn the cuts are starting to hurt.
“How about you take a shower and I will get you stitched up?” Dean moved to help me stand.
“Ok.” I made my way slowly to the bathroom. Once inside I started the shower. Dean made sure I made it ok. 
“I’m gonna set the stuff up, I’ll lay your pj’s on the sink for you. Holler if you need me.” Dean looked at me. His eyes can usually tell me what he is thinking. Right now, it looks like they are full of worry.
“I will, promise.” While in the shower, I mentally prepare myself for Dean to stitch me up. I usually liked Sam doing it because I knew he wouldn’t judge my body and not that I think Dean will, I just don’t want him to see the whole me. Of course Dean had seen bits and pieces but not the whole thing and definitely not a lot at once. Dear Lord, please let this get over quickly.
I made my way out of the bathroom. Dean had left my favorite oversized shirt and pair of my boy short underwear on the sink for me. Ever since we decided to split laundry duty this is something I have gotten to be ok with him seeing. I had my hair up in a bun. I needed it out of my face.
“Where are the cuts at?” Dean had me sit down at the table. 
“Mainly my thighs, hips, and chest.” I sighed. This is worse than Rick torturing me. 
“Ok, let’s start with your legs first hmm?” Dean got on his knees to work. “Tell me if I’m hurting you.”
The needle went through my skin. This was nothing compared to the damage Rick had already done.
“You ok?” He looked at me with concern in his eyes.
“I’m fine.” I gave him a small smile.
“You know your freakishly strong pain tolerance is coming in handy right about now huh?” He grinned.
“Yeah I know. I’m so blessed.” I giggled.
He worked on my thighs and hips for about twenty minutes. I looked at the fresh stitches across both of my legs. I am really gonna impress the boys now huh.
“Ok, now for your chest. How do you want to do this?” He looked at me again, eyes full of worry.
I knew he was worried about making me uncomfortable. But honestly I am so exhausted at this point I just want to get this over with. He has already seen dozens of stretch marks and cellulite across my thighs. 
“How about I take my shirt off and cover the girls and you can stitch?” I looked at him. I am praying he will not be grossed out. This is a line I thought we would never have to cross.
“Sounds good sweetheart, I’ll turn around while you do what you need to do.” He is a gentleman after all.
I covered my boobs and stomach the best I could. “Ok, ready.” I closed my eyes.
Dean got to work. These ones didn’t take as long. Thankfully Rick was interrupted before he could keep going. 
“Alright, all done.” He finished covering the big cut with a bandage. 
I opened my eyes. “Thanks Dean.” 
“No problem sweetheart.” He winked at me.
Damn him why does he always do that.
I blushed.
“You know I love you right Y/N?” Dean moved to put the supplies away.
“Of course Dean, I love you too.” I was still holding my shirt over my boobs and stomach. 
“I don’t know what all Rick said to you but I want you to know I think you are beautiful and perfect the way you are.” Dean looked at me, except this time his eyes lacked worry. No this time, it almost looked like he was happy.
“Well thank you.” I blushed again. Why is he saying these things? Surely he is bullshiting me.
“I know you may not believe me and that’s ok. But I really do mean it.” Dean made his way to me.
“Dean, I appreciate you saying it. Rick did make some comments but that’s ok, he’s a demon and I don’t really give a ratsass what he thinks and now he’s dead.” I looked at him.
“I know you don’t always think highly of yourself, but you are an amazing person. I don’t know what I would do without you.” Dean brushed his hand against my shoulder. 
What is happening? Why is he being all mushy? I am so confused. 
“I know Dean, I feel the same way.” I looked at him again.
“No, I’m not sure if you do sweetheart. You see, the thing is, I’m pretty sure I am in love with you.” Dean looked me in the eyes now.
Oh shit, what in the hell is happening?!
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