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virtualreader · 9 months

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broken hearts and healing souls

deanwinchesterxfem!reader

summary: carrying the ruins of the broken heart the death of his father had left behind, Dean pushes you away, fearing hurting you as well. or perhaps he’s just scared of being hurt himself, one more time.

word count: 3,3k. (does not include lyrics)

warnings: alleged age gap, fierce anger, heated argument, drinking out of spite, supressed feelings, cursing, yelling, not the happiest end, and lots and lots of angst.

part 2

a/n: i started watching supernatural about a month ago and I'm loving it so far. and god, i couldn't help but fall truly, madly, deeply in love with dean winchester. this scenario came to my mind while listening someone to stay - vancouver sleep clinic, so this one shot is based on this song. feedback is always appreciated. please, comment if you think I should write a part 2 to this one!

"You can't boss me around, Dean! I'm not a child anymore!" you barked at the hunter standing by the motel room's door.

"I can't? Watch me!" Dean retorted, breathing heavily and extending his arms upward to appear bigger. "As the eldest here, it's my call to make the hard decisions. And I've decided that you won't come on any more hunts, end of story. You're risking your life out there—it's dangerous, y/n. What's not clear about that?!"

You and Dean had been arguing for a while. He came into the motel room the three of you—Sam, Dean and yourself—were forced to share, stringently declaring you were not allowed to go with them on hunts anymore.

After the previous mission ended with you being kidnapped by the demon you were after and tied to a chair in an old building's basement, the oldest brother wasted no time in making a decision. Despite your eagerness to rid the world of evil, Dean prioritized your safety, even if you didn't see it that way.

Dean Winchester was an undaunted and confident man, he had been since his mother died, he had to be, for his family's sake, for his own sake. Yet, when it came to you, potential bad outcomes constantly assaulted his mind. He could not afford to lose another loved one, so he did not take a gamble.

"It is my life that I am endangering, so I strongly believe that I get to choose whether I want to expose myself to hunting hazards or not. You are not my dad and cannot give me orders, Winchester!" you declared, raising your voice with anger and trembling as you pointed your index finger at him.

You were hurt and confused. Hunting had been your life for as long as you could remember and now he was taking that away from you. You tried to plead your case, but he had already made up his mind.

In response to your defiance, Dean raised his chin, pursed his lips, and clenched his jaw. Yet, even in his anger, he maintained steady eye contact with you. It was clear he was not going to back down easily.

“You don’t get it, do you?” he queried exasperated. “That demon back there, could have killed you, and you know that. This is not some inoffensive deer we’re going after.”

He was undoubtedly referring to the incident that happened earlier that day, when he was able to free you from the grasp of the demon. It was the same demon that mercilessly took your father’s life, leaving you fatherless at the tender age of twelve and subsequently placed under the care of the Winchesters.

Growing up with them, you learned to navigate the dangerous world of hunting and the supernatural. From hours-long road trips and campfires to cozy movie-evenings and pancake Sundays, your memories with your new family included a wide variety of experiences that left a lasting impact on you.

The bond you formed with the Winchesters was one built on mutual respect and a shared purpose, making them more than just your guardians; they were your family, and you were theirs.

"God, what a pig-headed dude you are," you muttered, oozing frustration, as you let out a peeved sigh. "So you, old man, can risk being killed by these heartless creatures, but I can't? Is it just because I'm younger than you guys? ‘Cause I already told you, I am as much of an adult as you are.”

Clearly, you would not be swayed by Dean's demands. You were your own person, with your own will and your own desires. You were determined to stand up for yourself and live your life on your own terms.

He took a moment to observe your bruised appearance as he pondered his answer. The blood that had previously emerged from the wound above your eyebrow was already dry, while the cut on your lip was still struggling to form a scab.

He noticed the swelling around your left eye, a tell-tale sign of the force of the blow that had landed on your face. And as he looked at you, he could not help but feel responsible for your emaciated state.

"If you're such an adult, you'll be fine on your own. You don't need me, do you?" the hunter sassed back, towering over you, tilting his head and upturning his brows.

Dean's words hurt you deeply, and you felt tears welling up in your eyes. But you refused to let him see you cry. You straightened your back and met his gaze with a fierce determination.

"Do you want me to leave?” you said, your voice shaking a little. “Fine. If that's what you want, I'll leave. But don't expect me to come back."

You walked past him, feeling his eyes on your back. You didn't turn around, didn't give in to the urge to look at him again. You needed to be strong, to show him that you could make it on your own. But deep down, you knew that you didn't want to be alone. You needed Dean, more than you wanted to admit.

"Hey, girl!" you called out to the waitress, raising your voice above the noise of the tavern to get her attention. "Can I get a refill, please?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Too lost and hurting to carry your load We all need someone to hold

As you waited for your drink, you couldn't help but replay the argument with Dean in your mind. You felt hurt and betrayed by his words. You were mad at him for not understanding your desire to be by his side, no matter the risks.

You were lost in thought when a voice snapped you out of your reverie.

"Rough night?" inquired a gold-haired man as he took a seat on the adjoining stool.

The man seemed to be a bit younger than Dean, possibly in his mid-twenties, closer to your own age. He wore a white crewneck t-shirt that hugged his muscular arms around the biceps, and his dark slim fit jeans matched the black pattern printed on his shirt's front.

It was difficult to determine whether it was the effect of the second-rate alcohol or your personal taste in men, but it was safe to say he was far from unattractive and he was, in fact, quite handsome.

"You could say so." you answered his question with a touch of apathy but still flashed a slight smile his way.

You've been fighting the memory, all on your own Nothing worsens, nothing grows I know how it feels being by yourself in the rain We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

The man took a slow, deliberate sip from his beer bottle and leaned back, his eyes fixed intently on you. His gaze seemed to linger for a moment, as if he were trying to gauge your reaction to what he had just said.

"You know," he said, his voice low and suggestive, "I can make it better for you, pretty."

The words hung in the air between you, heavy with meaning. You felt a flush of heat rise to your cheeks at the man's brazen suggestion, and you couldn't help but feel a little intrigued by his offer.

You glanced around the dimly lit tavern, taking in the smoky air and the clinking of glasses. It was the kind of place where people came to drown their sorrows and forget about the troubles of the day-to-day life. And in that moment, you couldn't help but feel like you were just another lost soul adrift in the sea of humanity.

The man's eyes were still fixed on you, his expression unreadable. He seemed to be waiting for your response, as if he knew that his offer had the power to change the course of your night—or maybe even your life.

You took a deep breath and met his gaze head-on, feeling a sense of daring that you hadn't felt in a long time.

"And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?" you asked, your voice tinged with a hint of amusement.

The man smiled, a slow, confident grin that sent a shiver down your spine.

"Let's just say that I know a thing or two about making a woman feel good," he replied, his voice dripping with innuendo.

It was abundantly clear what his intentions were at this point in time, and to be entirely candid, it did not annoy you at all.

You eagerly accepted the charming man's alluring offer. And with a sense of anticipation, you followed him out of the sleazy bar, seeking shelter from the gentle patter of the light rain under the protective eaves.

As you walked alongside him, you found yourself captivated by his confident stride and the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light emanating from the street lamps.

You could feel his hand slowly making its way towards your hip, until it rested there, just barely grazing the upper part of your buttocks. This subtle touch sent a sparkling feeling coursing through your body, starting from the core and reaching all the way up to your chest. It created a warm whirlwind of expectancy, causing your heart to beat faster in anticipation.

“Y/n?” a familiar voice asked, a hint of pain in it.

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day you were helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

Dean narrowed his eyes, anguishedly taking in the sight in front of him.

As you stood there, drenched from the rain and your mind clouded by the alcohol, Dean's sudden appearance caught you off guard. He was directly facing you, his eyes locked onto yours, and you could see the pain and anger etched upon his features.

"What the hell are you doing here, y/n?" Dean asked incredulously, his voice laced with anger and hurt. “And who the fuck is that jerk?”

You froze, feeling a wave of guilt wash over you. You had been so caught up in your own emotions that you hadn't even considered how your actions might affect Dean.

You've drunk it down and you've spat it out And nothing tastes like the things you had So tear it off, why don't you let them go? We all need someone to stay We all need someone to stay

"I didn't know she was taken, mate. I didn't mean to meddle in your relationship," the guy standing next to you apologized, his voice trembling as Dean's contempting gaze threatened to pierce his soul. Green eyes—usually a symbol of grace—had never held such a look of hatred. “She’s all yours, mate.”

Once the man marched back into the tavern, with tail between legs, the hunter’s emerald orbs landed on you. And as he beamed down at you, you noticed how much woe his gaze held. He wasn’t someone to let his emotions surface, not at all, that would leave his feelings too exposed, too unguarded.

He didn't seem to mind the rain dribbling over his leather jacket or his well-styled hair as he approached you. Although you had a defiant demeanor, you took a step backward in response, and your back met the wall covered in graffiti.

“Thought you said ‘I’d be fine on my own’.” you tried to sound confident as you quoted him, yet the alcohol running through your veins caused your words to slur together.

"Yeah, I said on your own! Not with some opportunistic macho man!" he said, referring to your previous companion.

He looked at you with a mixture of disbelief and anger, his eyes scanning your face as if he was trying to find some kind of explanation for what he was seeing.

And then, his anger boiled over, and he let out a shout that echoed through the empty streets. "No way. Are you fucking drunk?!" he yelled. "Are you nuts?!"

The force of his outburst hit you like a physical blow, and you could feel your heart racing in your chest. You had never seen Dean like this before, and it was clear that he was at his breaking point.

For a moment, the two of you just stood there, staring at each other in silence, the rain pouring down around you like a curtain. And then, slowly, you began to speak, your words tumbling out of you in a jumbled mess.

"You're one to talk. You, my dear friend, are the very reason I'm here, drinking my sorrows away." you scoffed at him.

Your eyes darted around, looking at anything but Dean. You felt intimidated—what with Dean’s tall figure and the disappointment you could discern in his expression.

“Drinking won’t solve anything, y/n. You know better than this.”

"Do I really?” you uttered, struggling to keep at bay your wobbly lip. “Last time I checked, I was just a kid to you.”

Hear the fallen and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? At the end of the day we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most? Can you keep me close? Can you love me most?

As the rain continued to fall, the rhythmic clattering of the water drops mixed with the sound of cars cruising over the wet pavement, creating an overwhelming melody.

The droplets seemed to grow in size and force. You welcomed the heavier rain, grateful for the way it obscured the tears that threatened to overflow from your eyes.

You knew that if he saw you crying, he would only see you as weak and immature, even more than he already saw you. You had always been strong and independent, and you didn't want him to think any less of you.

So you stood there, letting the rain soak into your clothes and hair, hoping that it would wash away the pain and sorrow you felt inside.

“I don’t think of you as a kid. I just prefer you staying away from those creatures. You know better than anyone what that demon is capable of. It killed your father, and you could’ve died today too, y/n!”

“Do not act like you care! And do not dare mentioning my dad ever again! You are too self-centered to take others’ needs into account.”

With a trembling voice, you lashed out at Dean, your emotions running high and your patience wearing thin. You couldn't stand the way Dean tried to control your life, always telling you what to do and what not to do.

You had grown up fast in the world of hunting, learning to fend for yourself and to take care of others. You had seen things that most people couldn't even imagine, and you had faced danger and death head-on. You were not some delicate flower that needed to be protected at all costs.

And yet, Dean seemed to think otherwise. He was always trying to shield you from harm, even if it meant keeping you from doing what you loved most.

"Do you even hear yourself, Dean?" you continued, your voice rising with every word. "You act like you're the only one who knows what's best for me. You don't trust me to make my own decisions, although I've been hunting just as long as you have. You're so wrapped up in your own fears and insecurities that you can't see how much you're hurting me."

"You're part of my family now, and as such, I must protect you," Dean declared, helplessness building up inside his chest. "Why do you find it so hard to understand?”

You were alone, left out in the cold Clinging to the ruin of your broken home Hear the falling and lonely, cry out Will you fix me up? Will you show me hope? The end of the day and we're helpless Can you keep me close? Can you love me?

“I-…Just…leave me alone. Please, Dean.”

And it was then when, acting on your most primitive impulses, you took off, walking away from Dean with no determined destination.

It was not that you were afraid of Dean, no, you had spent too many years among the Winchesters to know he would never voluntarily hurt you, at least not physically. You found him sort of intimidating, more like it.

It was well known among the Winchesters' acquaintances that Dean, although not often, could become livid if you pressed the right buttons. And no one would ever want that fatal rage to be directed at them, unless they wanted to know what hell felt like.

However, the emotion the hunter was feeling now was not anger. It was something else, something both mysterious and intriguing. Although his muscles remained tight, his eyes shone with unshed tears, and a pinched expression was plastered on his face.

You fought against the urge to turn back and run into his embrace, to apologize to him and leave this dispute behind. It was a struggle to hold onto your never-so-fragile pride when your love for him had never felt as powerful as it did now. Not since you had first fallen in love with him, at least, back when you were a silly, naive teenager.

A hand grabbed firmly onto your arm, forcing you into a halt. You did not have the courage to turn around and face him with a trail of tears cascading over your cheeks, even if the drizzling rain disguised it somewhat. There was no need for that, however, when he began speaking, not waiting for you to look at him.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he apologized in a small voice, unaccustomed to saying such words. "I didn't mean to push you away. I... I don't know what I'd do if anything happened to you. I'm scared, y/n. Scared of losing you like I lost my father, like I lost my mother," Dean confessed, his voice softening, dropping in pitch.

You turned to look at him, really look at him, and saw the pain and fear written in his face.

You felt a lump form in your throat at the raw emotion in Dean's words. You had always known that he cared about you, but you had never realized just how much you meant to him.

"Dean," you said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. "I'm not going to die. I'm strong, and I know how to take care of myself. But I need you to trust me. I need you to let me make my own decisions, even if it means taking risks sometimes."

You stopped, taking a big deep breath before continuing.

“What you said back at the motel, it hurt me, a lot. I have nothing left, Dean. My family is dead, I have no place to stay, no job, no nothing. I’ve lost everything.”

“You have me.” He took a step towards you, getting closer, and caressed your feathery cheek with his large hand. “You always have and always will have me.”

Dean wiped away a tear from your cheek, his thumb tracing your skin softly. "I'm sorry for pushing you away, y/n. I was just so afraid of losing you. But I promise, from now on, I'll trust you to make your own decisions. We'll face everything together, as a team."

A turmoil of heartfelt emotions whirled its way down to your very core as Dean's words sank in. And, as you looked up at him, you saw the love and devotion in his eyes, and you felt grateful like never before to the Winchesters for taking you in.

Seizing the proximity, you took a moment to admire him. The softness on his eyes only adding to his already perfectly alluring features. The green orbs standing out his face had never shone as bright, and his nose glowed as red as his eyes, probably from the cold air of the drizzly night.

Yet the part you spent the longest time observing was his lips. Sultry pouty lips, that rested slightly parted.

And as if in a dream, he leaned in intertwining his lips with yours in a genuine kiss. Sliding the hand that previously laid on your cheek to the back of your neck, bringing you nearer to his own body.

His grip was both firm and steady, but no less gentle, just so as if he never wanted to let go of you. Your movements kept in step with each other's, as your mouths melted in a much-needed dance.

None of you cared about the rain soaking your clothes or the idling engine of the precious impala of Dean’s, nor about the small crowd by the tavern’s entrance looking at you. You were in a deep immersion into the depths of the moment, and all you saw, all you could regard was the man in front of you - the man you’ve always loved.

The idyllic moment was short-lived, much to your dismay, as Dean pulled away and apprehensively took a step backwards. But the pain you felt then was nothing compared to the stabbing sensation in your heart when he opened his mouth to speak again.

"I'm sorry. This was a mistake."

part 2

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lokigonnakmsforbucky · 7 months

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Perfect (S.W.)

Sam Winchester x Plus sized F! Reader

Request: maybe some s1/2 sam? it’s the reader's first time, and sam js is really sweet to her, focusing on her pleasure, guiding her through everything, and noticing how she reacts to his touches and teasing her, just like body worship lol. nicknames, Sam being lowkey an oral god🤭 lol. maybe the reader is just a little bit shy because she is more chubby? idk if this makes sense but yeah!! I hope you can do this, have a lovely day <3 🫶🏻🫶🏻🫶🏻

Rating: Mature (minors DNI)

Warning: Some violence, p n v, unprotected (Wrap it before you tap it!), Sam Is an oral god 🤧, talk of insecurities, loss of virginity.

Gif, not mine*

A/N I am accepting requests and making a supernatural tag list!

The lock behind you clicking locked sounded like music to your ears. Working straight after class from 4-12 was exhausting, to say the least, at a bar nonetheless. Annoying college frat boys, creepy old men, prostitutes (get the bag sis), you get it though life is hard.

“Only two more months then Im out of here…” You whispered under your breath. You were right though, only two more months at Standford and you were off to do big things in the world.

The walk back to your small apartment outside of campus was cold and damp. You could feel how moist the air was and the cold breeze hit your face and your legs, yet you loved this weather. Not too hot nor too cold just a bit chilly. The trees around you had orange leaves and every house you pass had pumpkins outside carved with scary or funny faces. Halloween was just around the corner. You were ready for it.

For the first time in two years, you were ready for this Halloween. After everything that happened.

Jess.

You couldn’t believe what happened when you found out that Jessica, one of your closest friends from elementary school was killed in a freak fire accident and her boyfriend Sam found her.

You, Sam, and Jess were inseparable at Stanford. Even days before her death you guys were at a bar celebrating Halloween. Well, jess was. You and Sam were wearing the most boring casual clothes ever. You both didn’t like the attention.

The Party scene, the crazy frat boys, insane sorority girls. Wasn’t your thing. It wasn’t his. But it was all for Jess. Which made the arrangement work.

You lost contact with Sam shortly after Jess’s death. Which stung. Thinking he was one of your best friends and you lost your other to the crazy fire. Yet, life goes on.

The door to your apartment was dull, no sign on the door. No welcome mat. Nothing that indicated a human living there. Thats how you liked it.

You opened the door to find it pitch black in the room before you.

Thats odd. Did I turn the lights off? I swear I don't remember turning them off before I left.

Your mind was racing with questions, you reached towards the left, using the dim hallway lighting to shine just enough for you to see your light switch. You flick it and your apartment shines.

Your apartment was dull. School textbooks on the counter, your backpack on the chair. Your small tv looked dusty in the living room from the lack of use, and the sad couches that hardly were sat on.

You were never home hardly, from working shifts at the bar and school. The only downtime you had was in your bedroom in the comfort of your bed with the latest Stephen King book at your disposal.

You hang your jacket on the hanger and throw your keys on the counter. You sigh loudly, your body was ready for that date to the bed.

A bang in your room made you break your train of thought. You turn your head towards your room and grab a kitchen knife. Slowly making your way towards your room, your heartbeat was picking up slowly.

Your door was open like it was before, but you could feel that something was off. You flicked the light on and nothing was there. But, you discovered that your window was wide open and your books from your end table were on the floor.

You walk towards the window and slide it shut and look out. Nothing seemed to be different yet...something felt off.

You took another breath before you felt arms lock your upper half. You scream and thrash to no avail.

"Please don't be scared...I'm just very hungry. You will come back...don't worry." The voice belonged to a man, you know. You thrashed again and looked up to see yourself looking back. Your mirror showed the man behind you.

He was a kid...maybe only 19? Looked like a freshman in college in his Standford Sweatshirt. But, his teeth were sharp. You kicked the wall and to your surprise, you broke his hold on you as you both fell to the ground.

This was your chance.

You collected yourself quickly running through the door and into the living room grabbing the closest thing to you for cover. Which in this case was a light fixture.

The boy walked through the door, his breaths were heavy. "Look I didn't want to hurt you. "

"Well, I really wanna hurt you."

Sam? That voice couldn't have been him.

A bang of a shotgun went off from your right, you looked to your side to not only see Sam but another guy with him with the shotgun. The man beside Sam seemed to notice you staring at him. His green eyes piercing into yours.

“Get behind me!” He yelled.

You didn’t have to think twice, you ran behind him and Sam while they took care of the deranged man.

“Close your eyes y/n.” Sam finally spoke to you, a machete in his hand. The man beside him was above the man that was kneeling down in pain with a shotgun pointed at his head. You looked back up at Sam, and his face was still just as handsome as it always was.

“Please.”

You finally closed your eyes. Hearing Sam’s footsteps move in front of you. I could hear the deranged man grunting, “Damn you Winchesters. One of these days. We will Kill you.”

“Well, good thing today isn’t the day then.” You could hear Sam’s voice and then a grunt following with a thud.

“Y/n keep your eyes closed. I don’t want you seeing this.”

You kept your eyes closed, tempted to open them. Just to see Sam. He is finally back… after everything that happened. He’s back.

Maybe this is just a dream?

What felt like hours of your eyes being closed was mere minutes as you heard grunting and a door close soon after.

“You can open your eyes now.”

You slowly opened your eyes, your eyes stung from the bright lights, your vision blurry. You reached your hand up and rubbed your eye one by one. The room was still lit with your lamps on the sides of the couch, but you could see the traces of dark red blood on the floor. You could see they were smeared like they were trying to clean it.

“You…. Killed that boy?” You looked up at Sam, the person you hung out with the most, missed the most after everything that has happened.

“He.. wasn’t a human. He was a vampire and he was gonna turn you Y/n.” Sam’s voice was so quiet, like he was afraid you would be scared of him. But, you knew Sam. He would never lie about this.

“This can’t be real…” You looked around and walked towards the couch. Sam following behind. Sitting beside you.

“It is…everything in the supernatural is. My family has hunted them for years…after my mother died from the yellowed eyed demon. Like Jess.” Sam’s voice cracked of mentioning Jess. You slide you hand in his and squeezed.

“A demon killed her?” You didn’t want to believe it, but it explains how weird her death was.

Sam took a breathe and looked at you, “Yes. He did. But, we are going to kill him. The guy that was with me, thats Dean. My brother. He basically raised me while dad hunted to avenge my mother. Now… it’s just me and him.”

Sam never talked about his family much, but he always mentioned his brother a few times. Which explains the facial similarities of the green eyed hunter.

I took a breathe and let his hand go and rubbed my arm,“Why was the Vampire coming for me?”

Sam sighed, “Me and Dean found leads from recent vampire attacks a few towns over. Has to be a nearby the university. Says why a lot of students went missing too.” You grabbed my phone to see it was now 1:45 am, how has it been almost two hours sense this all happened? “The boy that attacked you, went missing a few weeks back. He was sent to take you.”

“To be a vampire?” Your voice cracked a little in fear. Sam nodded, “I wouldn’t have let that happen. You deserve a good life.”

You finally did what you wanted to do for so long, you wrapped your arms around Sam and gave him a hug.

“Sam Winchester you deserve a good life too. Don’t sell yourself short. Thank you for saving my life.”

Sam hugged you back tight, like you were going to disappear any moment.

“Your not safe here Y/n. I got a motel room downtown. Pack clothes and bring a book. I need to know you will be safe.”

————————————————————————

2 weeks later

The last few weeks have been eventful to say the least… Sam came back, you met his Metallica loving brother, they rid of the vampire nest and overall you finally felt at ease after the two years of not knowing what happened to Jess.

Sam and Dean stayed near Stanford to keep an eye on you and make sure all is well. Coming down any other day and eating at the diner or having a drink at the bar, (which meant free drinks while your manager wasn’t working since you were the bartender), and having a new friend and your best friend back. All was well.

Yet, you could feel some tension between you and Sam. You’ve always had a small crush on him, who hasn’t though? His thick hair, his height, his hazel eyes, plus his personality? People would be crazy to not have a tiny crush on him.

But, with this small crush you could feel the guilt in the back of your mind. This man was one of your best friend’s boyfriend.

What would Jess think if she was alive?

“Y/n!” Sam’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. You looked up at him, your popcorn still in your lap as you we’re watching Scream on the Tv with Sam.

You came back home a few days ago and Sam wanted to spend a night over, since tomorrow he and Dean will be heading to South Dakota to see a friend of the family’s.

“Yeah?”

“You okay? You’ve been quiet for 30 minutes and you usually never shut up about Billy and Stu.”

“I’m just thinking…”

Sam paused the movie and turned towards me. “Spill it.”

You sighed and laugh a little. “Sam, it’s nothing.”

Sam took the popcorn out of my hands and scooted closed towards me, “Must be something if you are quiet for a long period of time.”

You took a breathe, Sam wasn’t gonna give up until you told him what was on your mind, “I’m just thinking about my future. I guess.” You laughed nervously.

“Your future? What about it?”

“Just thinking about everything, what I’m gonna be doing, Where I will be, If I would marry. Stuff like that.” Sam looked at you seriously after you mentioning marriage.

“Y/n, if someone wouldn’t marry you. I would be very surprised. Who wouldn’t? Your funny, down to earth, strong and plus your personality is amazing.”

You laughed, “Yeah. No. I’m not the looks of someone to be married.”

Moments passed, The silence thickened. You could hear your own breathing and Sam set down the popcorn on the table and took the blanket off of me and him. “Get up and come with me.”

“What?”

Sam grabbed my hands and pulled me up towards him. “Come with me. I have to show you something.” As he said that he took your right hand in his and walked towards your room and opened the door.

Your room looked the same as it always did. Bed maid, your window closed, your books on the table.

Sam took you in front of the mirror, him standing behind you.

“What do you see?”

You look at him through the mirror and give him an odd look.

“What?”

Sam took a breath, “In the mirror, what do you see?”

“I see me…. We done?”

“No. You see yourself, what do you see about you? What do you like or dislike?”

You rolled your eyes, “What’s your point, Sam?”

"I want you to see the beautiful woman, I see."

Beautiful? He was talking about me? Your mind was spiraling in thoughts. Years of self-doubt, men leaving you since you didn't fit into their "desires". Just to have Sam, your best friend and crush call you beautiful looking at you with no makeup, shorts that showed your curve, thick thighs touching each other, and a tank top that didn't hide your bloated stomach.

Beautiful.

"I want you to see how perfect you are to me. Your personality, your smile, how you change the room. " Sam chuckles, "Even your weird obsession with old 90 movies." Sam's hands gently roam down your body to be around your waist.

Beautiful. Perfect.

Not in a million years those two words would fall out of anyone's mouth. Not Sam's at least, You never would have thought that he would talk about you like that.

“Everything of yours is perfect. Your curves, your hips, your smile. " As he said that his hands were all over your body...touching every inch gently. You look at Sam through the mirror, "Sam..." Seeing his hands on your body felt fantastic and right.

"I know the past two years have been hard, I wish I was here for you. Things happened...but I am here now." Sam said his hand was now on my cheek caressing softly. "Let me have this chance."

You took a deep breath, this felt like a dream. Sam Winchester really said that and meant that.

You look up at Sam and nod your head. Instantly his lips met yours.

The kiss was full of passion yet gentle. Like You were a fragile art piece in a museum. His hand was on your waist and he pulled you in closer as he finished the kiss.

"Is this okay?" His hand had my shirt. You nodded your head and he took your shirt off revealing your black bra.

You covered your stomach as Sam looked at you, he wrapped his hands on your arms and moved them away, "I told you that you are beautiful, don't hide yourself from me.

Sam pinned your arms to your side and from your lips down to your stomach near the top of your pants. He kissed every scar, and stretch mark as he went. Whispering all sorts of sweet nothings, while he kissed you.

Sam looked up at you and smiled, "Take your pants off and lay on the bed baby girl."

You took a deep breath and turned from Sam, slipping your pants off and laying down on the bed. Sam was now shirtless and working on his pants.

Once he was left in his boxers he walked towards you and climbed on top of you, his face above yours. He gave you a small kiss on the forehead, the tip of the nose, and finally your lips.

It felt euphoric, the amount of times you never thought this would happen or even think you would be alone for all your life was out of the equation. You were happy.

With his small kisses, Sam cupped your breasts in his hands and softly squeezed them. Making you moan out softly. He lifted you up and unclipped your bra. You slipped out of your bra and allowed him to throw it on the floor. He kissed you once more before fondling your breasts and using his mouth on your nipple, swirling his tongue around your sensitive bud.

You softly moan and hold his head. Yanking his hair softly, Sam releases your nipple and looks up at you, "Better be careful Y/n. I want to take my time, but I will take you right now if you want."

Sam kissed your breasts and went down to your clothed pussy. Kissing the top of your underwear. His dirty talk made you feel excited for what's to come. Your underwear was soaked and Sam knew it, he rubbed your clothed pussy up and down making you moan out loud.

This was really happening. You were going to lose your virginity to Sam.

"Sam... I've never done this before." You admitted to him. He looked up at you and kissed your lips softly, "If you wanna stop we-" Before he could finish his sentence you cut him off with another kiss.

"I want you Sam."

You kissed Sam once more, deepening this kiss. His hands go back to your underwear and easily slide them off.

He breaks the kiss and goes down to my pussy, looking up at you before licking up and sucking on my clit. You moan out loud feeling the sensation of his tongue, Sam licked up and down and sucked on your clit before using a finger and thrusting in your pussy.

His one finger felt amazing inside, yet it stretched you out. If you couldn't take a finger. When he finally goes inside it may not fit. But, no matter the pleasure right now was overwhelming. You didn't want it to stop.

Sam does stop abusing your clit, rubbing your pussy, and adding another finger. You close your eyes and arch your back up, moaning out.

He was paying attention to everything that made you feel nothing but pleasure. He used his two fingers in a scissoring motion and that plus his mouth on you took you over the edge.

Your eyes feel blurry and your breaths are heavy, you could feel Sam's eyes on you. He leans up and kisses you. "Feel good baby girl?"

You smile and nod, "Yes."

You never noticed that Sam slipped his boxers off, his length hitting your thigh. You look down and take a breath.

It's a lot bigger than I thought...I don't think it would fit.

Your mind was spiraling and you could feel your nerves go through the roof.

"Don't overthink, keep your eyes on me. It will be uncomfortable but I am right here." Sam noticed you were in your head. His hands were rubbing your legs comfortably to make you relax. He kissed you gently and pulled you close to him as he rubbed his cock near your entrance.

Sam pulled away looking at you in your eyes, "You ready?"

A moment passed and you finally nodded your head. You wanted it You leaned up and kissed Sam once more. The head of his cock rubbing against your cunt.

During the kiss Sam thrusted in, You gasped in the kiss and he stopped moving while you looked like you were in discomfort.

When your face relaxed he thrusted again slowly until you told him to go faster.

The pleasure felt amazing, nothing felt better than being with Sam. You didn't want anyone else but him, the feel of his kisses, his touch. Was the most amazing thing you have ever felt.

The feeling of his cock filling you up to the brim felt amazing, how you stretched around to fit him and only him.

Sam was grunting as he thrusted, he started to moan softly kissing you while he thrusted into you. He gripped the sheets beside you as you gripped his shoulders filling him into you.

Sam pulled out and came on your stomach, "Sorry.." He chuckled and grabbed his shirt and cleaned you up, You smiled and looked down at him cleaning you up.

The one thing you knew for sure was that not only Sam was your first love, but no matter what he would always be your last.

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sweet-heart-jack · 1 month

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I'm writing a supernatural fix it fic in my notes app and when i get done would anyone be interested in me posting it on here?

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bellamybellamyblake · 3 months

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When the Sun Sets - Part 4

Adriadne

Characters:

adriadne/morgan winchester (OC), dean winchester, sam winchester

Summary:

adriadne finds out who she was before she went to hell. and the winchesters will not rest until they fix what their sister did all those years ago.

Warnings (for entire story):

SPN typical violence, so so much suppressing of emotions, vague mention of SA, depiction of torture, a very pro-torture main character, murder, vague mention of not eating for a while, parental abuse, slight suicidal ideation, SPN typical alcohol abuse, spoiler warning up to the end of season 10, following canon stops after the end of season 2 but things are sure to be mentioned

Word Total:

4k ~ roughly

A/N:

hi, so sorry its been so long, but i finally got the inspiration to continue writing this little mini series. i'm not convinced anyone is still interested in this story, but here's part 4. there's a little hatred towards blondes in this chapter - guys i actually love blonde hair i think its gorgeous - your girl is just a demon. my search history after writing this chapter, god help me.

this takes place loosely around season 10 and i kind of combined when sam tries to cure crowley with when he cures dean.

let me tell you, writing about a person who has no idea what's real is not easy to make good - its a 0/10 for me and i'm not convinced i even succeeded at that

italics = inner thoughts/memories

dean: 36, morgan: 35 (her body is 27), sam: 32

Adriadne vaguely remembered hating the moon coming up when she was human. For some reason, she detested nighttime and all that came with it. She had wanted to believe she wasn't as bad as the humans when she was one. But as she roamed the street of whatever bumblefuck town she was in, she remembered staring blankly at a street lamp once.

It was the only light she had seen for several miles. It illuminated a small bus stop with a bench and a pay phone attached to it. She was in some loud car, with even louder music playing, with her intolerably quiet family. The faces, names, and details of any of them had been long washed away. Somebody in her family needed to make a call, so they stopped, and she was left alone for a few minutes. The yellow beams that kept that area lit were the only thing keeping her from panicking. She had assumed she was only a child in the memory because, I mean, seriously? An adult scared of the dark?

If she had been an adult, Satan help her if she was, it would have been further proof of how weak humans are. Actually, regardless, it was proof. There was no light in Hell. Everything was dark, and only with the sight of a demon could anyone see. She bristled at the thought. Since being on Earth, she had no desire to go back downstairs.

The darkness of the night did give her a little sense of reminiscence, though. Of home, Alastair, Crowley, her tools. Where she could roam freely without having to cling to that damn sack of flesh. But the daytime was a close second, in her opinion. The sun, as bright and almost blinding as it was, was warm. And it felt…kind of nice.

Turned out, she was a natural blonde, a type of blonde that got even lighter when she lay in the sun. And that rubbed her the wrong way. Like, who was actually blonde nowadays? Every blonde Alastair assigned to her was quickly scalped. And when they were healed, she would do it again. Then, she'd make them drink anti-freeze because many of them had blue eyes. It really had been a fun game.

Watching them die slowly and painfully was always an excellent way to waste an hour. And when they were brought back to life, it was back to her regularly scheduled programming.

It sucked even more that she had blue eyes too. They were so light. Like the human fucking sky or some shit. She liked her black eyes. They were who she was, a dark and malevolent visitor on this planet of fluffy little bunnies.

At the sound of a whistle, a very loud one, she turned to find the source. "Damn, baby." The man said. He was some random guy on the corner of the street, watching her as she walked. "What's your name?"

She planted a demure little smile like she was so flattered by the attention. With a blush, she said, "Mary."

He smirked. "Are you a virgin, too?"

Imbecile, she groaned inside her head. She had heard that joke back home. It was usually the first thing a demon said when assigned someone with that name. After hearing it for the first time, she chuckled. The second time, she grinned. The fifty-seventh? She ignored it.

Come up with something new, people, will you?

She flashed some doe eyes at him and pretended to blush even more. "How did you know?"

"I tend to sense these things."

"Oh, do you?" She asked with a grin, flashing her natural eyes at him. But before he could scream, she was slitting his throat.

When the jugular veins are severed, there is a relatively low spray of dark red blood, accompanied by the sound of escaping air, and the human coughs it up. So, to get a forceful spray of bright red, Adriadne's favorite, she cuts the carotid. And usually aims to sever the trachea so they gasp and wither at her feet. And with this guy? She hit the nail on the head.

It only takes a few minutes, but it's such a satisfying death. Being in the land of the living, slitting throats quickly became one of her favorite forms of sending them exactly where they belonged.

When Sam and Dean Winchester caught wind of a case; six hundred sixty-four bodies across the country with a slit throat and the Latin symbol for "hellhound" carved over their right eyebrow, they got on it. They didn't want to let it get to that magic number.

And when they got to the most recent crime scene, Lena Franklin, a thirty-one-year-old female - mother of three - with the same injuries, they found who they were looking for, taking another victim. Only they weren't expecting to find their sister standing over the body.

After knocking her out and locking her up, they summoned Crowley as soon as possible. It was like their lives depended on it, or really, it was their sister's life that they were worried about.

And when he explained the situation to them, they knew what they had to do.

With a whine, Adriadne awoke in a strange room. Filled with walls of file cabinets and Enochian or Latin symbols. She tried to rub at her head, where that damn vase had been thrown at her, but she noticed she was chained down. Usually, she wouldn't have an issue with chains; she could break through steel, and they were so satisfying when some human tried to escape them. But not only were these not steel chains, they were iron. And they had warding signs carved in them.

Fucking hunters.

Surprisingly, if there was any human she didn't entirely detest, it was hunters. They were more robust than the rest and really knew what the real world was like. But they were after her, so now, they had to die. Slowly, bloody, painfully.

"Welcome back, jackass," A voice she recognized said. The same voice threw the vase at her however many hours ago. It was the shorter of the two, but he had the more resounding voice. They were tall for humans, but the other was way bigger. Gigantor also seemed like he was friendlier, the dumbass.

She had heard of the Winchester brothers in Hell. Sam and Dean, she believed their names were. Two brooding brothers with mommy and daddy issues that jumpstarted the apocalypse. Then they fixed it and sent Lucifer back into his cage with Michael. They'd been in and out of hell themselves a few times. The only humans to ever accomplish such feats.

Clearly, they weren't stupid, but goddamn, were they annoying.

Sam was younger but a bit more book-smart, and Dean was the older but sarcastic one. She vaguely knew they had a thing for dying for each other, but that only made her roll her eyes like she so often did at these creatures.

"Dean," Sam scolded.

"And what a warm one at that. You ever have people over?" She groaned. The boys didn't respond, both just shaking their heads. They started pulling stuff out of a cooler, and she read what it said on it with a scoff. "Human blood? You're seriously gonna try and cure me?"

"Yep," Dean deadpanned.

"Oh, please," Adriadne drawled as her head fell back on her shoulders. "Spare me."

"You're a demon, Mo," The youngest said, like it was the worst thing in the world she could be. "We're not just gonna leave you like this."

"Mo? Who the hell is Mo?"

"Morgan," Dean explained, his voice monotone but somehow angry at the same time. "Our sister. The human that you used to be. So we're doing what we should'a done years ago. And saving you. Even if it is from yourself."

"Your sister?"

"Yeah," Sam quipped, annoyed. "Crowley said you wouldn't remember."

"Crowley's the one that-"

"We know," Dean said. "Just shut up."

I didn't even know the Winchesters had a sister, Adriadne thought. But to hell if she wanted to become a damn human. Why would she even consider it? "Ever think maybe your sister wouldn't wanna be saved?"

"Doesn't matter." The oldest Winchester remarked, his voice flat. "You don't get a choice."

With a huff, Adriadne chuckled darkly. "Just let me go do what I wanna do. I don't bother you; you don't bother me. So what the hell do you care?"

"What do we care?" Sam asked, almost dejectedly. He shook his head, not dignifying her with a response, and started pouring holy water around the devil's trap. Reciting the Latin to start the ritual, he grabbed a needle, loaded it up with human blood, and handed it to Dean.

Adriadne looked at her supposed brothers, she didn't even know their birth order. She knew Dean was the oldest and Sam was the youngest. But where did she fit in the lineup? "You got anything stronger in there? Some heroin? Meth? Maybe it'd really make me feel somethin'."

"Don't worry, honey, you're gonna feel a lot."

And before she could fight it, he put the syringe in her arm and pumped the blood directly into her arm. She could feel it coursing through her veins, traveling through her bones, her arteries, her cells. Weaving its way throughout her body like an itch you can't scratch. Involuntarily, she let out a loud roar, a demonic roar, of pain. This damn human blood did not agree with her.

"Look," Sam said as both brothers backed away from her. "We've got a whole bunch more of these to go. You could make this a lot easier on yourself."

"And just in case some part of you gives a crap, we got your blood type."

"You wanna know something?" Adriadne asked, but a new wave of pain from the human blood cut her off. She groaned but wouldn't let it cut her off too long. She was a demon, after all, and pain had never been something she feared. It was something she admired, longed for, craved. "The part of your sister that cared died a long time ago."

Five times, the Winchester brothers had streamlined her with human blood. They didn't say anything when they came in this time, silently injecting her with round six. Like it was the only thing keeping them from breaking.

Adriadne was a demon; she knew that. But now things were becoming a little muddled. There had been small things, small tidbits of images popping in and out of her brain.

They weren't like dreams or nightmares. They were more like poorly done movies of being beaten by someone she was supposed to call her father. Dreams of fighting with her siblings, where even they'd beaten her - but also when she fought back, and they took the beatings themselves. She won and lost over and over, losing the fight when Sam left them for school, winning when Dean tried to get her to stop seeing her high school boyfriend, losing when Dean took away the knife he gave her, and winning when she eventually stole it back. She remembered watching their so-called father yell and scream, practically torturing who she was told were her brothers. She remembered not being able to do anything about it.

She saw herself hunting other creatures - not humans, but monsters. Vampires, werewolves, ghosts, djinns, banshees, rugarus. She saw herself taking beatings from them, nearly dying from her injuries several times. She saw herself lose her virginity to a sweet guy from her high school at the time. She saw herself take that night and turn it into a string of drunken one-night stands.

She saw her father coming home drunk almost every night, beaten up. She saw herself patching him up, giving him stitches when necessary. She'd been the one to set her brother's bones when they were broken or dislocated. She'd have to be the one to reset her own because none of them were as good as she was at it. She saw the woman who was supposed to be her mother burn to death on a ceiling as her older brother - a toddler himself - pulled her and her little brother to safety.

And she remembered her father dying, making a deal with a demon to keep his oldest son alive and breathing. Then she remembered doing the same thing for her younger brother.

"You're the Winchesters," Adriadne drawled. "You're hunters. So am I an idiot to assume what you're gonna do once you realize this won't work? You think you got the stomach for that? Killing the girl you think is your sister?"

"We're not worried," Sam denied. "Because we've done this before."

It had been nine hours, nine injections of human blood in her veins, and she could name nine parts of her body she could barely move. She hadn't felt so useless since she was on the rack, and even then, she had a purpose. To postpone, to make it as long as she could. Alastair had given her a choice. Stay on, deal with the consequences, or get off, and then do it to someone else who deserved it too.

She had been at the end of her rope; her soul was already ripped to shreds. And then they healed her and broke it again.

The humans deserved it - that's what she was taught.

But then, why was I the one on the rack? I'm not human.

Yes, I am. Or...I was.

No. My name is Ad-Adria-

She had been having so many memories over the last several hours. But they had to be dreams; she didn't remember them belonging to her. Of the Winchesters, of growing up on Earth, of being a part of an admittedly screwed-up family.

My name is-

"How you doin', Mo?" That was Sam, her…younger brother, she had remembered. The memories were like a plague, keeping her sedentary in a time she had long forgotten. A time, she didn't know if she wanted to go back to or not. It was a time when she cared about them, about humans in general. A time when she had the ability to care.

Mo. Morgan.

She was confused when they called her that. She didn't know how to describe it. But something was weird about that name. These were people that she knew before she went to Hell. People she loved. People she would've sacrificed everything for. People she did sacrifice everything for.

"It doesn't feel right," She rasped, shaking her head as much as possible. Which, apparently, was not a lot.

"No, shit," And there's Dean.

"When you call me that," She explained, despondent, trying to blink away the new memory attempting to take hold of her reality. "It doesn't feel like my name."

"Well, what is your name?"

She didn't know. Adriadne was supposed to be her name. Morgan was supposed to be her name. How could someone not know their own fucking name? It was the most basic form of identification. Even demons had names. A new wave of pain hits her, and she grips the chair with all her strength. It wasn't a lot; she was so weak. But then another memory took over, and she wasn't even in that room anymore.

"What is your name?" He had asked, his voice cold and unemotional. The girl only shook her head in response, knowing what was coming with her answer. "You will answer me when I speak to you, girl.

"Morgan," She choked out, tears already rolling. "Morgan Winchester."

"You don't deserve my last name." Before she could blink, her cheek was stinging, and she was on the motel room floor. More tears fell involuntarily at the searing pain, at the blood dripping down her face from his ring. She flinched at the hand he rose again, but no hit came. Instead, he laughed - a heartless and calculating laugh. Like it was amusing watching his thirteen-year-old daughter cower at his feet. "You are no Winchester."

He was ready to strike a second time when someone got in the way.

"Get out of the way, Sam."

"No," his little voice announced. She could hear the emotion in his words as he continued. The little ten-year-old was scrawny, even smaller than she was. "She knows what she did. You don't have to hit her again."

Ignoring the boy, her father turned back to Morgan, practically looking through her little brother. "So this is what you've come to? Making little Sammy fight your damn battles for you?"

She looked him straight in the eyes; the green they usually held was almost black in the room's dim lighting. She had seen this so many times when he was angry, when a hunt didn't go his way, when his children disobeyed him. When she did something wrong.

"Boys," Her father called, ordering them to shut up and listen. Dean took his hands away from his face with a wince. Sam winced, too, backing away from his father. Nearly crashing into her. "Take this as a learning opportunity. We fight our own battles in this family. And we don't rely on other people to do it for us."

And with that, Sam was pushed out of the way, and he was on top of her.

"Dad," She gasped, finally back in the present but staring into space. Both brothers' heads shot up at the recall. "He was- he was mean."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, making her eyes lock on his. The whites of his eyes were red like the mention of his father had him holding things back. A storm was brewing behind his eyes, one he wouldn't let come to fruition. "He had his moments."

"He was so mad all the time," The girl croaked, her voice breaking even more. She was lost, not looking at them. Keeping her eyes down, they darted back and forth as she practically stared through the flesh and bone before her. "Watch out for Sammy. Make sure Sam's safe. Don't let anybody touch Sammy. If anything happens to him, I'll know whose fault it is." Her older brother only nodded, but Sam's eyes fluttered back and forth between his siblings. Like he was realizing something he hadn't before. "We were always watching out for Sammy. Who- who watched out for us?"

"Well, for one, Sammy watched out for us. And I watched for both of you, and you took care of us."

"I took care of you?"

"Yeah, Mo, you did," Sam said plainly.

"But I-I went to-" She denied, not entirely believing them. "I went to Hell, and now I don't know anything. You're my brothers? My family? My family tortured me. They-they're the ones that put me on the rack."

"Is that what they told you?" Sam asked, bewildered.

"I saw it!" She roared. Everything came back to her in waves, and not like a movie this time; these were memories. She knew it; she couldn't question it. "You hurt me- you- you touched me." She finally looked up at them, unable to hide the tears. She shook her head, trying to shake away the red, the blood, the screaming, the agony. "You- you- family isn't supposed to do that!"

Sam and Dean stared, their faces pale and drained. They didn't hide their emotions - like she remembered they did so often. They wore it plainly on their faces. Sam was a mixture of deep regret and sorrow. Dean wasn't just angry; he was simmering with rage.

"Now, you listen to me," Dean ordered, and she could almost hear a trace of their father in his voice. He leaned against the arms of her chair - her current prison - and gave her a stare that kept her captive in his gaze. "I went to Hell, too. They did the same thing to me. It. Wasn't. Us. And I know you don't believe that. But you will. Eventually."

When he finished, she nodded. He was wrong. Some part of her did believe him. The conviction in his words, the way he didn't bother to hide the angry tears in his eyes. Some part of her - a minuscule part - hoped he wasn't lying. That her family was still there for her. That maybe, even after everything that had happened, they would hold her when this was all over.

At her slight confirmation, he nodded, too, and stepped back, giving his younger brother room for the next shot. Sam came forward and quickly, without hesitation, put the syringe in her arm and pressed down.

"I don't even know my own name."

Sam didn't balk at her words. He just shook his head and gave her a small, barely there smile.

"You will."

"I don't wanna be human," She cried. Eleven injections in, she could feel the human blood becoming her own. Integrating into her bones, her DNA changed with every second that passed. Her power was draining, and she didn't like it. She was returning to who she was before Hell, the young girl with daddy issues, with two brothers who loved her - but could never get along with.

"Humans are weak, they- their emotions, it's too much," She continued, shuddering. "They feel too much, they don't see how useless they are. How- how small they are. There are eight billion of you, and all of you think you're the most important one. You all think you have some fucked up purpose, that there's something more you can do with your pointless little lives."

"No one here is gonna tell you that being human is a walk in the park," Sam said, his voice calm and steady as if he was expecting her to say this. "But it is better than being a demon. Than killing for no reason. Because even if you don't believe it, I believe we do have a purpose. Maybe it's a tiny one, maybe you're just supposed to be here to make someone else happy. Maybe you're here to teach someone a lesson. Maybe you're here to save the world." His words got light at that, like it was an inside joke, and Dean let out a small laugh. But just because you don't know what it is or can't see it doesn't mean you don't have one."

Before she could respond or give any words to the contrary, he put the needle in her arm and gave her the twelfth shot.

Morgan Winchester opened her eyes. And they were black. She could feel it, feel the remnants of Hell in her eyes. But as quickly as it came, it went. And as they cleared, she groaned. It was a strange feeling, but she felt lighter. Like there wasn't as much weight on her shoulders as before. Her eyes were blue again, like the sky people loved to stare at. Then she remembered she was human again. She was just a young girl again, not a demon, not a monster.

And then the weight returned. Only this time, it was even heavier, as if someone had tied an anvil around her neck and thrown her into the ocean. She remembered everything. Her life, her father, her mother, her brothers, Sam dying, her dad dying, her deal with a demon, Hell, being tortured, then turning around and doing the same, becoming a demon, becoming Adriadne, taking a joyride upstairs, murdering so many innocents. Then, being in here, the crowded but well-protected safe room in some place she had no knowledge of.

She could see her brothers a few feet away. Sam stood in front of Dean, holding a flask - their postures were identical. Tight and reserved, with their brows furrowed and their feet cemented into the floor.

Her face contorted into a question, and she greeted them with their names. She didn't know what else to say. But before she could speak again, Dean threw whatever was in the flask at her face.

Water. Water. Water.

And without needing a second to think about it, Morgan realized it was blessed. Holy water. They were putting her through one final test. To see if their work had paid off. When it didn't burn, sizzle, or boil her skin, her brothers let out a deep exhale of relief. Then, so did she.

"Welcome back, Morgan."

#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #dean winchester x sister!reader #sam winchester x sister!reader #dean winchester x ofc #sam winchester x oc #dean winchester imagine #sam winchester imagine #bobby singer #team free will #castiel

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miss-madness67 · 4 months

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Advent Calendar 2022: Day 17

A story of 25 christmases with the love of your life, Dean Winchester.

Because our story isn't over with marriage and babies...

Day 16

With your baby being a tiny human of only a few months old, you decided to celebrate the holidays in your house and invite the rest of your family over. The pretty perfect human you and Dean created requires too much attention to leave them alone, and they are too small to take them outside the house. In hindsight, it’s good that no one complained about coming over to your place.

“So, Dean told me you guys have been thinking about another baby.” Sam’s comment surprises you to the point that you nearly drop the punch you’re serving.

You came into the kitchen to get some refreshments, not to get cornered by your brother-in-law. “He said what?!” You just had your first baby, and given the lack of sleep you’ve been having, you’re not thinking about another one for a while. Sure, you’re 31 years old, and the biological clock is ticking, but you’re not about to rush because of it.

At your startled expression, Sam laughs loudly. “You should see your face… No, he’s been complaining about sleep, actually.”

You sigh, “yeah, the babe is a little beast.”

You and Sam make your way over to the living room, where the rest of your family is gathered. You can see Bobby sitting on one of the couches with your baby in his arms. He's looking at his grandchild as though they’re the most precious baby ever existed. Next to him, John and Dean are comfortably talking about cars. “I'm happy for both of you,” Sam expresses. “All I've ever wanted was for Dean to be happy and have a family. Even if he doesn't believe it, he deserves this.” You couldn't agree more with Sam.

Day 18

Tags: @sweetwerewolfqueen @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @perpetualabsurdity @deanswaywardgirl @seppys-return-to-madness @desimarie12 @hobby27 @mrspeacem1nusone @fluff-lover @melannie77

#fanfiction #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #spn fanfic #spn x reader #christmas fanfiction #christmas #advent calendar #spn advent calendar #supernatural fic #dean advent calendar #parent dean winchester #dean winchester fluff #dean winchester x ofc #dean winchester x y/n #sam winchester

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multifandomimagines1522 · 2 years

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Imagine

Dean: listen, have I ever put you in a situation where your life is at risk?

Sam: Yes.

Cas: Quite frequently.

Jack: More often than not.

Y/n: At least once a day.

Dean: Well then you should be used to it by now and should no longer be surprised.

#dean winchester #dean winchester imagine #dean x y/n #spn #supernatural #dean winchester fluff #au dean winchester #dean winchester angst #dean x ofc #impala #sam winchester imagine #castiel #jack kline #sam winchester #supernatural imagine

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justagirlinafandomworld · 1 year

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Personally, February was quite a year, so please join me in saying good riddance! *waves as February slips on by* Luckily, I was able to keep my reading queue full for most of it. Peruse at your leisure and be sure to gush over the stories you love. If anyone is going to appreciate your excitement, it's the people who typed it up and clicked that publish button. ❤️

This list is alphabetical by fandom (mostly), then by character.

Summaries and warnings are included as provided by the authors.

Happy Reading!

2023 reading list | fic rec masterlist

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

The Other Half series by @youvebeenlivingfictional Bruce Wayne x Reader You glance at the man, then freeze, eyes widening. There’s no way that the goddamn Prince of Gotham is on your counter right now. Luckily for you, he’s focused on the tie clips. Maybe he knows you’re staring and is just ignoring it. Maybe he’s just so used to the sensation that he simply doesn’t register it anymore. Warnings: Canon-typical violence, angst, fluff, explicit sexual content

Marvel

Mafia Ask by @angrythingstarlight Mafia!Bucky Barnes x Reader ASK: what would be bucky's reaction if malyshka playfully smacked his ass Warnings: Spanking, dom!Bucky, bratty!wife.

Marc thinks the reader loves Steven more by @softlyspector Marc Spector x Reader Prompt: Insecure marc because reader loves Steven more maybe? Warnings: Angst with a happy ending.

Waves of Love by @flordeamatista Namor x Reader When you look into the water, you see the reflection of love. Warnings: poetic fluff, soft smut (fingering), beach soft smut, kisses, ocean love, slight angst but just amor

The Little Things in Life series by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor dark!Steve Rogers x Reader Your suburban life begins to show cracks and your next door neighbour, Steve Rogers, seems intent on shattering what’s left. Warnings: non-consent sex

Lies by @cockslutpadalecki Steve Rogers x Female Reader What is a couple of little white lies between friends? Warnings: mentions of a toxic relationship, oral sex (male receiving), exes being fuck buddies, explicit sexual content, 18+.

Broken Promises by @cockslutpadalecki Steve Rogers x Reader Prompt: “Fuck me like a starved animal or leave.” Warnings: fwb relationship, female masturbation, explicit sexual content, 18+.

I Wish I Had That by @girl-next-door-writes Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader Marc has found himself a girlfriend, and Steven is happy for him, he really is. Problem is, Steven wishes he’d met her first. Warnings: None provided.

Supernatural

Beers & Beef Jerky by @princessmisery666 Dean Winchester x Female Reader Dean’s fantasy may just come true. Warnings: smut.

Push Your Luck by @cockslutpadalecki Dean Winchester x Reader Prompt: “Y’know, I’m holding back from fucking you over this kitchen counter, don’t push your luck.” Warnings: a little bit of teasing, bratty!reader, slight dom!Dean vibes,18+.

Your Way or the Rope by @cockslutpadalecki Demon!Dean x Reader Prompt: “I’ll fuck you for as long as you can stay awake… maybe after that too.” Warnings: bondage, a hint of dub-con, threat of oral sex, multiple orgasms, implications of somnophilia, a little Stockholm Syndrome, 18+.

Two At Once by @hoboal87 Dean Winchester x Reader x HunterCorp!Reader Dean catches you with his doppelgänger. Warnings: Smut, Crack, Threesome, implied open relationship

Trust Me by @carryonmywaywardcaptain MoC!Dean Winchester x Reader Dean’s losing his grip with the Mark, so you offer him a different outlet to work through some of his tension. Warnings: smidge of flangst, implied friends with benefits, implied (rough) future smut

In Living Color by @dean-winchester-is-a-warrior Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/N never knew how much color existed in the world till a green-eyed hunter stumbled into her path. Warnings/Explicit 18+: Implied smut. Kissing. Dean's hands very briefly up a skirt. Dean on a motorcycle. Dean in leather. Dean being an absolute 1950s smoke show! Slight AU!Dean. He's still a hunter, but he's a hunter in the '50s.

Don't You Forget It by @rizlowwritessortof Dean Winchester x Reader Prompts: “Listen to me, mister. You’re my knight in shining armor. Don’t you forget it.” & Supernatural episode: Regarding Dean. Warnings: Angst, pining, with a happy ending.

Trying Something New by @sofreddie Sam Winchester x Female Reader Sam and Y/N discuss kinks. Warnings: Pet Play, Discussion of Kinks, Implied Smut

Take It Easy by @there-must-be-a-lock Sam Winchester x Reader Prompt: “I want it to hurt.” Warnings: Discussion of rough sex but nothing on-screen. 300 words, mature.

Riding the Cavaletto Squarciapalle by @kickingitwithkirk Boy King!Sam Winchester x Reader Warnings: BDSM 18+, nudity, punishment, collar/lease, nipple clamps, blindfolds, restraints, foxtail plug, anal beads, wood horse, dildo insertion

Top Gun: Maverick

No One's In The Room series by @princessmisery666 Jake Seresin x Original Female Character (Ryleigh) Jake and Ryleigh find themselves stranded in a remote location when a mission goes sideways. Injured and dependent on his help, she gets a glimpse of the man beneath the façade of ‘The Terminator’. Once they are rescued, the bubble of their personal Vegas bursts, and Jake struggles with new emotions while Ryleigh hopes he will finally see the man she came to know when no one else is in the room. Warnings: enemies to lovers, slow burn, cheating mentioned, bad family relationships, friends with benefits, fluff, angst, asshole!Jake.

RPF

Checkmate series by @jawritter Jensen Ackles x Reader, King!Jensen x Handmaiden!Reader They’re just dreams, very vivid dreams, at least that’s what Jensen first thought when they started happening. Now, after a trip to a therapist office, he learns they might not be dreams after all, but rather memories of a past life that send him searching for an unpredicted turn of events that could effect the future…if he’s lucky, if she exist at all. Series Warnings: Angst, Language, Therapy Sessions, Hypnosis, Past Life Repression Therapy (Yes, it’s a thing), Character Death, Smut, Unprotected Smut, Soul Mates. Individual warnings will be placed over each chapter)

#just a girl reading fics in February 2023 #fic rec masterlist #bruce wayne x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marc spector x reader #steve rogers x reader #steven grant x reader #namor x reader #dean winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader #jake seresin x ofc #jensen ackles x reader

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spnhunter4life · 1 year

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Masterlist

One Shots

Day Off (Dean x reader) Y/N and the boys are finally taking a much deserved day off. She plans on staying in bed all day and watching TV until Dean comes in with news about a job.

Why Not? (Dean x reader) Dean and Y/N are both single on Valentine’s Day and decide to have a “friend date.” With a little help from a flirty waitress, feelings are realized and confessed.

Two B Dean knows just how to help on a bad day.

Two Minutes to Midnight (Dean x reader) Y/n is out for a fun day with Sam when things take a turn for the worse. Desperate for help, they turn to Castiel for answers. But how helpful will the unreliable angel be?

Drunk Girl (Dean x ofc) Dean's night doesn't go quite as he planned when the girl in the bar is in need of company and a ride home. (Loosely based off of the song by Chris Janson)

Not So Bad Bad information on a hunt leads to a tense situation that ends in confessed feelings.

Winchester’s Girl (Dean x reader) Friends to lovers hockey AU

Series

So Long (Dean x original female character) Jenna and Dean have known each other since she was 9 and he was 11. Their fathers often hunted together, so they grew up in next door motel rooms, keeping each other company and watching out for Sammy. They were inseparable until their dads inevitably fought and stopped working together. Shortly after Sam left for college, her father had been killed on a hunt and his dad had been more and more distant, so they started hunting together. In a world where everyone has a tattoo of their soulmate’s name that appears somewhere on them on their 16th birthday, it took them a ridiculous amount of time to figure things out.

Familiar Part 2 Part 3 (Dean x reader) Sam, Dean and Y/N are on a case, and it turns out Y/N is just the monster’s type.

End Up Here (Dean x original female character) A short story about falling in love. Emily goes out for the night with a group of friends. She wasn't expecting to meet a handsome stranger or anything that followed.

Bullets and Ballgowns (Dean x original female character) In the summer of 1813, the arrival of a new family in Brighton causes much excitement for the townsfolk. Anna Foster is shocked to realize she has already met the elder of the two sons, Dean. As she gets to know the family better, she must fight her feelings for him. Though she finds herself drawn to him, it is impossible that they could ever be together.

Video Links

#masterlist #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #spn #dean winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester x platonic!reader #sam winchester x platonic!reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x ofc #case fic #soulmate au #comfort fic

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kickingitwithkirk · 10 months

Text

Greetings from Austin

Summary: Jensen and Jared are at odds over a monumental decision that changes their lives in a way they couldn’t have envisioned.

Pairing: Alpha!Jensen Ackles x Alpha!Jared Padalecki x Omega!OFC

Word Count: 2161

Warnings: a/b/o, J2 are married/mated, homophobia, bisexuality, biphobia, outdated beliefs, angst, cursing, jealousy, depression/anxiety, medical stuff, sexual dysfunction, infertility, IVF, surrogacy, subgender inequality

*additional warnings to be added in future parts.

Square filled: Non-traditional Alpha Traits @spnabobingo Maid Au @spnaubingo

A/N: Here we go again with one my weird as hell dreams, series Inspired by this art.

A/N II: There is no intentional hate or malevolence intended towards any of the Ackles or Padalecki families. This is a purely fictional piece containing real and created persons/names/events set in the fictional A/B/O verse. Some dates/events altered to fit story.

A/N III: thank you to everyone for hanging in there since it’s taken me ages to drop a new character, I’ve been doing rewrites/updating on all my series, more to come in future.

*no beta-all mistakes are mine

*divider by @writeyourmindaway

*images found online

Part IV

“WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“DON'T YA’ BE YELLING AT ME, MR. MAN, EVEN IF THIS IS YOUR FUCKING HOUSE…”

“I gotta go,” tossing his phone on the bedside table, Jared, wearing his blessed socks, runs across the main room and slides on the hardwood floor into the kitchen and saw his husband standing three feet from Quinn as she’s vigorously gesturing with a paring knife while telling him off in her colorful language.

“Put the knife down!” The older Alpha’s voice resonates through the room, making Jared flinch, feeling the command’s power, watching Quinn set it on the counter and Jensen reach over, sliding it towards him.

She stood a bit longer before blinking in confusion, and then her demeanor shifted to madder than a wet hen, her natural lower voice dropped another octave, and the lilt became very pronounced. “Don’t ya’ ever use that fucking voice on me again!”

“You were threatening me with a knife!” Jensen picks up the item, making her laugh, “Holy fucking shit, are ya’ serious? Ya’ could barely use it for a toothpick, let alone...”

Jared stood there, mouth hanging open, have’n seen others take on his mate, wrongfully assuming he’d be the easier of the two to intimidate, but when let off its leash, Jensen's wolf made Dean Winchester look like a pussy cat.

“JARED!”

The younger Alpha's mouth snapped shut, “sorry, what?”

“I asked you what the surrogate is doing here?”

“The surrogate has a name.”

“What is Quinn doing here?”

“So..uh..okay,” Jared slowly starts around the island doing his sometimes awkward, hesitant thing. “A few days ago, I got a call from this number I didn’t recognize. It was about the ultrasound appointment scheduled while you were in LA.”

He paused to see if Jensen remembered, and yep, his mate was wearing his get to the fucking point expression.

“They informed me she’d canceled it because she was leaving town.”

Jensen's attention returned to the O, ”Don’t fucking start on me again, Ackles!”

“You know who I am?”

“Duh, Sherlock!”

Jensen would later try to justify it was jet lag and surprise finding their surrogate in their home, not her smart-ass mouth, for snarling at her.

“Och, save it for the cameras, drama queen. Ya’ put pants on just like the rest of us; the only difference is yours have designer labels.”

Jared interrupted the speeding downhill faster than an Olympic bobsledder situation, “I remembered her saying something about managing Mulroney’s Bookstore, so I called Clif to see if he’d get her to contact me and calls back saying some Alpha...”

“...who’s a flaming jackass!”

“Yeah, that’s what Clif called him. Anyways, he claimed to be the manager and had no idea where she was when another employee said they knew where she was living...”

“... that’s when ya’ boy shows up..”

“…I explained about the mixup...”

“…Padalecki followed me to my room to get the new date, then he caused a scene...”

“...I couldn’t help my wolf freaking out at where my..our pups were living...”

“…told ya’ it was there or the I-35 underpass!”

Jared bristled at the reminder, “The door had three locks, a barely functional heater, and a broken fridge. Cockroaches wouldn’t even live there!”

Quinn raises onto the balls of her feet and loudly reminds him about putting her in the shitter with the manager and getting fired when Jared shouts back in his booming voice, “there was a guy by the ice machine offering to sell me heroin!!”

“ENOUGH!” Jensen's Alpha voice echoes throughout the kitchen, quieting them both.

“She’s right,” Jared opened his mouth to retort, but Jensen countered with, “And so are you. Quinn, couldn’t your family help,” the Alphas wrinkled their noses at her souring scent, so he attempted another approach.

“I want to clear something up. I recall one of the stipulations for surrogates is that they reside in an appropriate domicile. Why were you living in a motel? Could you tell us what happened?”

“The flaming jackass tipped off the landlord I’m an O, and that fucker evicted me even though I never caused any problem or was late with rent.”

“There is a moratorium on evictions..”

“..that moratorium is a fucking joke!”

“What a minute,” Jensen said, and at the same time, Jared remarked, “It protects people...”

“Newsflash, Mr. Wizard, was created by and for the protection of Alphas and Betas! Take a hot minute to read the fine print, and you’ll find loopholes granting landlords, to quote, discretionary privileges pertaining to the eviction of those designated with the sub-gender Omega. In other words, they can boot O’s for any damn reason!” She gave the Alphas a hard stare, “So, enlighten me as to why y’all didn’t know a fucking thing about that bit?”

The kitchen got quiet as the Alphas glanced at each other, trying to find a non-assholey-sounding response. “Yeah, that’s what I thought; since it’s well known you two prefer Betas.” Quinn addressed the older Alpha.

“Padalecki and I have an arrangement. I keep the house and do meals in exchange for temporary boarding. No need to fret that pretty head of yours, Ackles; I’ll do me damnedest to stay outta the way."

🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎🐿️🫎

December 23rd Late Afternoon

Quinn heard Jensen’s surprised greeting covering the stewpot of goulash, slid it into the oven to stay warm, and peeked around the wall and saw him in the foyer hugging a small, older O, then a tall, bald Alpha carrying several bags crossed over to them.

“Let me help you with those, sir,” she offered, taking them couldn’t help but overhear his not-subtle sniff, “Jensen, who’s this?”

“Umm,” Jensen scratched the back of his neck, fumbling for a response, “this is the housekeeper, Quinn.” His mother-in-law peered inquisitively at the tall Omega before asking, “What happened to your boys' service?”

“I worked for it.”

Gerald Padalecki dubiously eyed the O up and down as she continued. “They pared down the staff, and Jared offered to retain me in exchange for lodging...”

“You live with them?” Gerald barked, “Jensen, that’s unwise considering...”

“Considering what Gerry,” his mate sharply asks, “the boys wouldn’t let someone stay they couldn’t trust.”

“I normally wouldn’t question their judgment, but she's an unmated O.”

“Whoa,’ Jensen jumped in, “are you suggesting that Jared or I...”

“Mama..daddy..what’re y’all doing here?” Jared couldn’t keep the surprise out of his voice, wrapping his long arms around his mother, “thought you were coming tomorrow.”

“We decided to surprise you but got it instead.” Gerald’s gruff reply made Jared throw his husband a confused look, catching a whiff of his dad and Jensen, “What’s going on?”

“I bet y’all would like to freshen up after your trip.” Quinn blurted out, “Jensen, would you help me with their luggage, please.”

Taking the car keys, he follows her out the door, remarking, “you think fast, coming up with that story.”

“Ya’ were about to lose ya' shit on your father-in-law, and I didn’t precisely fib, just moved a few facts around,” Quinn shoots back, grabbing a bag while Jensen, fuming, retrieves the other, following her to the guest house.

How could the Alpha he considered his father even think, after everything they’d been through, found his dark thoughts distracted by two simultaneous acts; a deflating blow-up bed and his bewildered husband storming in shouting, “What the fuck was that?”

Jensen ticked his head towards the O and made the finger-in-hole gesture.

“I’ve gotten that shit since I presented,” the pair look towards Quinn with confused expressions. “Loads of Alphas still carry antiquated beliefs about unmated O’s, and I’m…pick an adjective to fill in the blank.”

“So much for a peaceful holiday,” Jensen grumbled.

“Yeah, too bad ya’ boy stuck his nose where it didn’t belong, right?” Quinn's tone was caustic. “I don’t want to be a bone of contention with ya' family. I’ll figure somewhere else to stay.”

Jared’s wolf simmers under his skin, “How? You have $636.96 in your account. That won’t cover a security deposit, let alone fir..”

“How the fuck ya’ know what’s in my account?!”

“Your laptop was open...”

“...and ya’ snooped...”

“...I happened to see it...”

“...still not your fucking problem...”

“...you’re carrying my..our pups, that makes it my fucking..”

“...ya’ are the most unfucking...”

“I’m tired of y’alls motherfucking bitching, so shut the fuck up!!”

Jensen wrinkles his nose, “Dude, dial it down; you’re stinking up the joint! And Quinn, Jared screwed up...”

“I never asked...”

“...doesn’t matter! He's trying to make amends, for fuck sake!” Jensen felt the vein in his left temple throbbing again.

“There will be many people dropping in or staying with us this fucking week, and this is how we’re all going to handle our situation.”

🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿🫎🐿

January 15th

“Humph,” Jensen jerked awake, slapping a hand around, and found his phone before cracking an eye open.

7:18 A.M.

Groaning, he dropped face-first into his pillow and wrestled his mates over his head to muffle the noise, but the pearls of his pup's laughter signaled he wouldn’t sleep much longer.

His fuzzy brain's insistence that coffee was more imperative than a shower has Jensen sleepily shuffling around the oversized couches, once again grateful they’d decided to move their bedroom to the main floor, spots the group in the kitchen muttered too damn early.

“That’s a bad word, Daddy,” JJ says, her frown a replica of his, “you owe the swear jar.”

“Your right, Birdie, sorry,” dropping a kiss on top of her and the twins' heads, stepping around them, pouring himself a mug, “remind me to pay it later.”

Hopping up on the counter, Jensen sips his coffee, savoring the black elixir rolling over his taste buds; he feels the caffeine penetrate his system, working its magic to turn his morning grumpyass into a civilized human watching his brood.

JJ and Arrow are busily festooning Quinn’s long, wonky braided hair with ribbons. Zeppelin and Icarus are sitting on the O’s lap, watching something on his iPad that's precariously balanced against her feet; felt his wolf purr in contentment, starting him when his mate materializes and gives him an odd look.

“Alright, y’all,” hopping off the counter, Jensen scoops up his son and flies him around, making airplane sounds, “Uncle Jeff and Aunt H/W/N will be here soon. What do all of you need to do before going?”

“Brush teeth and hair,” Arrow says, then looks at JJ, “grab our snacks from the fridge,” she reminds her, “and put them into our backpacks.”

“And do bath break!” Zep giggles as Jensen hands the pup to his mate and quietly says, “I wanna discuss something with Quinn.”

Jared reaches through their bond and finds a placidity in Jensen he hasn’t had for so long, but before he can deduce the causation, he gets distracted by the twins' squeals and escorts the pups upstairs.

Quinn eyes the older Alpha while securing a hair tie around her long braids, “what the fuck I do this time, Ackles?”

“Jared mentioned something about your leaving..”

“...I know ya' expected me gone before now...”

“...ya’ know what I expect?” Jensen snaps, mimicking her subtle accent, “I expect you to stop interrupting and let me get something out for fucking once! Now, could we please discuss this without fighting?”

Sitting at the dining room table, she says nothing, watching Jensen refill his coffee, grab another mug, and drops in a spoon of honey before pouring the brewed tea from the kettle, “Ya’ know how I take me tea?”

“I’m not a completely unobservant asshole,” Jensen self-deprecates, “you make a damn good cup of coffee,” he said, carrying both mugs over. “And I’m astonished how you balance everything, working at Emmer and Rye while keeping up with our hectic schedules. And what did you do to Jared?” Quinn looked confused, “you got him to put his wet clothes in the laundry instead of leaving them all over the bath. You’re either a witch or a goddamn miracle worker!”

“I gave him two options. Leave’um in the laundry or find itching powder in his clothing.”

“He’d just borrow my stuff...”

“...he did, once.”

“So, you?

“Clif said ya’ boy spent the day denying it was jock itch.”

Jensen was still laughing when the quartet came back downstairs, so Quinn placed both forearms on the table, leaning forward, and spoke softly, “okay, Ackles, the fucks going on with this little tête-à-tête? Cause ya’ been freaked the fuck out the entire time, so,” nodding to her mug, “What’s with the buttering up?”

“It’s about not leaving...”

“Quinns not gonna leave?” Jensen whipped around to find Arrow bouncing excitedly beside him, then she suddenly raced towards the front door, yelling, “Papa Jared, Daddy’s got Quinn to stay with us!”

Jared stood there scrutinizing the seated duo with an indecipherable expression.

“Looks like ya’ the one dropping me in the shitter this time, Ackles.”

tbc

Part V

SPN TAGS: @donnaintx @lyarr24 @flamencodiva @b3autyfuldisast3r @lassie-bird @nancymcl @spnbaby-67 @leigh70

Sam/Jared: @idreamofplaid Dean/Jensen: @thoughts-and-funnies @stoneyggirl2 @akshi8278 @beabutterfly987 @smoothdogsgirl @siospins2

GFA: @babypink224221 @waywardjoy @let-me-luve-you @all-4-wincest @ladysparkles78

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saiacross · 7 months

Text

Bonds Unveiled

Supernatural FanFic : 4,213 Words : Series: Reader-Insert

Chapter 22: Bonds Forged ⚠️ 18+ Smut w/ Dean⚠️

This Work is part of an overarching story that can be read as a one-shot with little overlapping information from other chapters.

⬅ Chapter 21: Confession & Heat 💜 Chapter 23: Days of Truths➡ Master List

Chapter 22: Bonds Forged

⚠️ 18+ Smut w/ Dean⚠️

Y/N's heat comes to an end, though not before Dean aids her in this time for need.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜

“Dean~” Y/N's ardent cry reverberated through the room. She arched her back, pushing her hips towards him eagerly, as his thrusts sent ripples of pleasure coursing through her body. The heat between them was palpable and each touch seemed to ignite another surge of scorching fire. Her hands were white-knuckled as they clutched the bed sheets, while their lusty moans rang in Dean's ears.

Dean groaned loudly as he watched Y/N sink deeper into the bed. His strong grip on her hips kept her in place, his thrusts becoming harder and more urgent with each passing moment. Her ass was lifted up to greet him, inviting him to take what he wanted. A wave of pleasure swept through them, almost tangible in the bedroom's atmosphere.

Y/N's body arched and quivered against the bed as Dean's pulsating cock plunged deep into her. With every thrust, he rocked her core, expertly striking her sweet spot with exquisite precision. The sensation was euphoric, sending electric waves of pleasure down to her toes. Her breathing deepened as she clung to the bed, desperate for more.

Y/N was lost in a foggy haze, her mind spinning as her body ached for more. She had no memory how she had arrived at this moment. All she knew was that her inner Kitsune was desperate to be satiated, craving every touch inside and out when one of the Winchesters were around her. Her Heat was consuming her and drove her into an ecstatic frenzy.

Dean leaned in closer, his shivering chest now flush against Y/N's warm body. His gentle hands explored every inch of her body, tracing lines along her curvaceous form until they each firmly clasped a supple breast. She quivered at his touch and let out a guttural moan as he caressed her hardened nipples, the first pleasurable act he bestowed on her after hearing her whisper her need for his embrace.

Dean grasped her breast firmly and slowly lifted her so that she was now straddling him. His eyes shut tight as he thrust into her with increasing intensity, exhaling sharp breaths with every stroke.

Y/N's head arched back in delight as her lips parted in a soft moan, her hips swaying in perfect rhythm with his. She could feel the waves of pleasure radiating from within, and Dean responded by growing more feverish still, both of them wanting to reach their mutual climax.

Y/N's cries of pleasure filled the room in an endless crescendo. Her hand travelled back to Dean's hair, her fingers entwining and tugging softly while her other hand glided atop of his as he stroked her breast with gentle precision. She moaned louder with each skilled caress, aching for more.

Dean's laughter was deep as he relished in the sound of her passionate cries, now that the pillow couldn't muffle them. "Ah, Sweetheart," He rasped, pausing to take a breath between words. "You know Sam's still here." His voice had an erotic edge that made her body quiver with desire.

At the mere mention of Sam's name, Y/N immediately felt an uncontrollable desire course through her body. Her inner walls clenched hard around Dean, eliciting a lustful moan from him in response. As he continued to thrust inside her, she could no longer deny the passion that burned for them.

"You can't tighten like that just from his name while I'm inside you." Dean was partly amused and partly agitated as he slammed her down onto him causing her to shout him name over and over again.

The sound of his name rolling off her tongue and echoing through the room was an arousing reminder that no one else could make her feel the way he did. His strong, yet gentle hands exploring her body and teased at her breast before traveling down to her waist. He reverently cupped her core with his large hand before his middle finger grazed against her tender nub, sending a wave of pleasure throughout her body. He felt as if he was about to lose control as he pulled her closer, their bodies pressed tightly together in a passionate embrace.

That was it, the restraint within her snapped and her body started to quiver in his grasp. Her walls clung tightly around him, almost as if he wasn't allowed to escape. Y/N's eyes shuttered closed as she convulsed around him, blissfully soaring to ecstasy.

As she came undone around him, Dean felt her pleasure course through his body like an electric current. With one powerful thrust, he surged forward, pushing as deep as he could to reach her core and unleash all within him. His husky grunts echoed off the walls as every stroke grew deeper and harder. She tensed around him, milking every drop as his final thrusts echoed in the room. Grunting and panting as he emptied himself inside her, Dean's voice thundering over hers until she lay motionless in his arms and their bodies were stilled with a blissful satisfaction

Dean slowly eased out of her and lowered Y/N slowly onto the bed. Her body quivered as she felt him withdraw from her and a moan of pleasure escaped her lips. Dean felt the shiver that ran through her body and brushed his lips against hers, sending sparks cascading throughout her being. He marveled at the sight of her being completely satiated.

Dean's eyes crawled along the curves of her body, unable to tear away his gaze. She was as still as a statue, barely remember to breathe, and appeared to be on the cusp of sleep. Her long fluffy tails hung listlessly from her sides and even her ears had sunken in relaxation. Dean grew aroused by her helplessness, and he muttered under his breath, "That's a sight that would make any man want to keep going." But he shook the thought away.

Hopping off the bed and discarding of the condom he'd reluctantly used after hearing a lecture from his little brother about responsibility, Dean quickly pulled on some shorts. He proceeded to very carefully position Y/N more comfortably on the bed and begin to clean her up, in accordance with another one of Sam's "helpful" suggestions. Dean clicked his tongue in annoyance at the thought - as though he wouldn't have done it without Sam's constant reminders; what does he think of him?

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Dean made his way down the hall, his thoughts focused on the steaks in the fridge that were destined for his next culinary creation. He hadn't anticipated encountering Sam in the kitchen, but there his brother was, seated at the table. Dean greeted Sam casually with a simple "Hey" as he passed by, a hint of mischief dancing in his eyes.

Sam acknowledged the greeting with a nod but was quick to get back to his laptop, his attention seemingly drawn to something he was reading. But he still made comment, "We are definitely going to need to invest in some good headphones or something."

Dean cocked an eye brow as he looked to his brother and asked with confusion in his voice, “What like you want a play by play?”

Sam closed his eyes momentarily as he tried to control himself, “No. Dean. I mean her condition.”

Dean paused his steak preparations for a moment, his expression shifting to one of contemplation. "She's resting in her room right now," he began, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "And her body temperature is back to acceptable levels. You know, considering."

Sam absorbed this information and then looked at Dean thoughtfully as he continued with a suggestion. "You know she likes to cuddle. You don't have to bail as soon as you're done."

Dean didn't show any signs of discomfort at Sam's remark. He continued with his food prep and replied, "Yeah, well, it's just easier like this for now. Until her heat passes and we can talk things out. 'Til then, you do the cuddles, and I'll tag in when you need me, 'kay?"

Sam understood that Dean was his usual stoic self, attempting to push down his emotions to avoid potential pain. However, Sam also believed that this time was different, and Y/N would need to have a conversation with Dean herself to truly convey that. So, for the time being, this arrangement was how they would navigate their evolving relationship.

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The days had rolled on, with Sam and Dean keeping a vigilant watch over Y/N in the bunker. Their routine involved delivering her meals, ensuring she stayed hydrated, administering the medication that alleviated the effects of her heat, and assisting her with relief when it seemed to become to much for her. Castiel made occasional appearances, checking in on them and providing updates, but they had collectively decided not to leave Y/N alone during this challenging time.

As the week drew to a close, things seemed to be returning to normal. However, neither of the Winchesters had considered the potential aftermath. Two days had passed since Y/N's heat had fully subsided, and her door remained locked. Sam and Dean now stood in the living room, their frustration palpable.

Dean paced back and forth, his irritation clear as he vented, "I'm about to kick that door down, Sam."

Sam sighed, trying to soothe his agitated brother. "Dean, come on. She's obviously embarrassed. You can't seriously think she was going to walk out here like nothing had happened, did you?"

Dean continued his restless movement, his frustration evident. "No, of course not. But she could at least come out and talk to us like an adult."

Sam couldn't help but chuckle at Dean's exasperation. "Yeah, because you're known for talking about your feelings."

Before Dean could offer a retort to Sam's remark, Sam's phone began to ring. Sam pulled it from his pocket and saw the caller's name, deciding to put the call on speaker. "Hey, Angelique," Sam greeted her, "You're on speaker, and Dean's here too."

Angelique's voice sounded agitated as she demanded, "Good. Now what the hell did you two do?"

Dean and Sam exchanged puzzled glances, wondering what had triggered this call. Dean quipped, "You'll have to be a bit more specific."

Angelique didn't waste any time in explaining, her frustration mirroring Dean's. "I just got a text from Y/N asking me to ask one of you to drop off some food at her door. Her heat was over days ago, so What Did You Do?"

Dean spun around and threw his hands up in the air in a gesture of surrender. Sam empathized with his brother's reaction and admitted to Angelique, "Y/N's holed up in her room and won't come out. I think she's too embarrassed to face us."

A moment of silence hung in the air before Angelique's accusatory tone cut through, "You didn't."

Sam's voice was tinged with guilt as he confessed, "Yeah, we did."

Angelique was even more taken aback when she asked incredulously, "BOTH of you?"

Sam winced as though he had committed a grave error, and Dean's voice echoed from the other side of the library as he shouted, "Well, not at the same time!"

Angelique made a noise that was a mix of disbelief and shock, causing Sam to rush to clarify, "Angelique, it's not what you think, okay? All of us..." He was cut off by Angelique.

"Nope. Na-uh. I'm not getting involved. I don't want to know. Good luck." With that, Angelique ended the call, leaving Sam at a loss for words.

Dean stood nearby, assessing the situation, before declaring, "I'm kicking the door down."

Sam's head snapped towards his brother as he rushed after him, desperately trying to stop Dean. "Dean! No! Wait..."

Before Sam and Dean could reach the hallway to deal with the locked door, Castiel abruptly materialized out of thin air, appearing as if he had been in mid-flight and continued his motion until he landed in front of the brothers. They both furrowed their brows in confusion as they watched the angel stumble to the ground. Once Castiel had caught his breath, he urgently warned the two, "Incoming!"

Dean turned to peer in the direction from which Castiel had appeared, exclaiming in irritation, "What the hell does a guy gotta do to kick down a door in peace around here?"

As Sam extended a hand to help Castiel stand, another figure emerged from a cloud of smoke. This man was dressed entirely in black and instantly raised a gun, aiming it squarely at Dean. Dean's lightning-fast reflexes kicked in, allowing him to swiftly duck and roll for cover, narrowly evading the shot. Sam rushed to assist Castiel, guiding him behind a nearby wall, while the bunker's alarm system blared loudly, alerting them to the imminent danger.

Reluctantly, a fierce battle erupted. Dean had managed to disarm the man of his pistol, but it became evident that the intruder was no ordinary human. With startling strength, he threw Dean across the room, causing shelves and books to tumble onto him as he crashed to the ground.

Sam, meanwhile, swiftly grabbed one of the swords mounted on the wall and engaged the intruder in combat. The man proved to be incredibly agile, dodging Sam's every swing until he landed a brutal punch to Sam's gut, sending him sprawling onto one of the library tables.

Castiel, determined but clearly worse for wear from their previous altercation, gripped his angel blade and staggered into a fighting stance. The situation had taken a dangerous turn, and the bunker's defenders found themselves facing a formidable adversary.

Y/N had finally emerged from her bedroom upon hearing the alarm, quickening her steps when she heard the altercation escalating in the library. As she arrived at the doorway, she was met with the sight of the wounded Castiel squaring off with a menacing stranger. Dean and Sam were picking themselves up from being thrown by the intruder.

The stranger's head snapped towards Y/N as he noticed movement out of the corner of his eye. Y/N, despite feeling somewhat caught off guard, confronted the situation head-on. She stared at the man and demanded, "Who the hell are you?"

With sharp, shark-like teeth, the man lunged at Y/N, seemingly disregarding Castiel altogether. Y/N's instincts kicked in, and she swiftly began to dodge the man's relentless advances, weaving left and right with grace and agility. She balled her fist and threw a punch straight at the man's face, connecting with a solid hit. However, the man hardly flinched, sending alarm bells ringing through everyone present.

As the fight continued, each blow landed with an unsettling thud, and it became increasingly clear that this man was extraordinarily resilient. Y/N blocked one of his attacks with her arm but felt the shockwaves reverberate through her body, causing her to take a few stumbling steps back.

The tension in the room was palpable as the battle raged on, with both Y/N and the intruder seemingly immune to the other's blows. Finally, Y/N spotted her opening. With a powerful thrusting kick to the gut, she sent the man stumbling backward, right into Sam's waiting arms. Sam held the intruder still long enough for Dean to plunge an iron dagger into him. The man froze in agonizing pain as Dean removed the blade, and Sam released him, allowing the lifeless body to fall limply to the floor.

For a brief moment, Sam, Dean, Y/N, and Castiel stood there, panting and catching their breaths as they looked at the lifeless intruder on the floor. Y/N, attempting to break the tension, quipped, "A friend of y'alls?"

Dean and Sam exchanged glances, their expressions conveying their distaste for her humor. Dean turned to Castiel and demanded, "Cass, what the hell?" Meanwhile, Sam walked past them, announcing that he was going to shut off the alarm.

Castiel wiped a line of blood from his lips, his expression laden with guilt as he explained, "I'm sorry. I wasn't sure where else to turn. He was able to track my movements, wherever I flew to, he was there."

Y/N noticed something glistening from Castiel's collar and reached up to retrieve it, suggesting, "Maybe he was using this?" She held out her palm, revealing a small metal device with a red blinking light that suddenly went dull.

Dean, puzzled, inquired, "A tracker of some kind? Who is this guy?"

Sam entered the room, joining the conversation, and added, "Better yet, what is he? And how did he get past the wards?"

As everyone speculated on the intruder's identity, Castiel studied the man lying on the floor between them. Something seemed off about the skin exposed below the man's shirt collar. Kneeling down, Castiel opened the man's shirt to reveal freshly sliced words etched into his flesh, still dripping with blood. The message read 'Come Home.'

Castiel's revelation caught everyone's attention, and he continued, "He seems to have been a messenger for Y/N."

As Castiel stood, the others looked down at the man in varying states of shock and disgust. Dean glared at the words carved into the man's body, Sam's expression twisted with disdain, and Y/N turned away, walking some distance from the lifeless figure on the floor. The room was thick with tension and unanswered questions.

Dean noticed Y/N retreating from the library, and with a shared understanding, he turned to Castiel, saying, "Hey Cass, can you umm..." He motioned toward the body on the floor.

Castiel finished his thought for him, nodding solemnly, "I will remove the body."

Dean patted Castiel on the shoulder and said, "Thanks, man." With that settled, he turned to walk after Y/N.

Dean gently placed a hand on her shoulder to stop her, his voice warm and concerned as he said, "Hey, sweetheart. Look, while we have you here, we need to talk."

Y/N paused, her heart racing as she knew what this conversation would entail. Uncertainty welled up within her, but she nodded her head and replied, "Yeah, alright."

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Sam, Dean, and Y/N moved to the war room for a change of pace. As soon as they had entered, and before anyone else could say anything, Y/N quickly turned to face both brothers, her voice apologetic and hurried, "Okay, look, I'm sorry I didn't warn y'all about my heat, alright? That was stupid, and I get why y'all might be upset. If you want to just forget everything that happened in the past week, I can do that."

Dean and Sam were taken aback by Y/N's sudden outburst. Dean even nudged Sam, signaling that he should handle this conversation. Sam looked from Dean to Y/N a few times before he managed to voice his thoughts, "Y/N, we're not upset. Yeah, it would have been nice if you'd given us a heads up, but we did what we did because we wanted to. It's not like you forced us."

Dean, feeling that something might be a bit off, asked, "Do you remember the drive home from the bar or anything from the past week?"

Y/N swallowed hard, embarrassed to admit, "My head is usually in a fog during that time, but I remember bits here and there. Mostly physical."

Sam chuckled, realizing where his brother was going, as he reminded her, "In the car, you asked us when we first realized we had feelings for you, and then you told us when you realized yours for us." He paused, remembering the talk they had; it was a fond memory for him. Then he continued with a soft voice, "Then you asked if you really had to pick between us."

Dean chimed in, saying, "But then you passed out."

Sam continued, "But then when it was just you and me, you brought up sharing again."

Y/N looked completely dumbfounded, trying to make sounds come out of her mouth that even remotely resembled words. Sam and Dean watched her struggle for a few minutes before she finally asked, "Are you sure that's what I said?"

Dean suddenly became concerned as he asked, "You telling me you didn't mean it?"

Y/N realized that she might have set Dean off and tried to backtrack her words a bit, "Oh, no, I meant it. But I thought I was thinking it, not actually saying it out loud." Her embarrassment and humiliation were written all over her face, even her fox ears nervously twitching. She broke into a ramble, pacing anxiously, "Oh God, I can't believe I actually suggested that. You guys probably think I'm a total sicko or something. Jesus, what is wrong with me? Inside thoughts are supposed to stay inside for a fucking reason."

Dean watched as Y/N paced and berated herself, his brow creased, not really sure if he should stop her or say something. Sam also watched, an amused half-smile on his face. They had never seen this side of her before, and in all actuality, it seemed she was more concerned with grossing them out than she was about her own self.

Sam finally broke the silence and called out to Y/N, causing her to pause and look at the two brothers. He continued, "We actually talked it out and are willing to give it a shot."

Silence.

Y/N blinked, as though she were trying to clear away debris from her sight and catch a glimpse of the real Winchesters. As she processed Sam's words, Dean asked, "Hey, you good?"

Y/N realized that she must have been quiet for too long. Nodding her head and trying to relax her body a bit, she said, "Yeah, um, sorry. It's just... Really?"

Y/N couldn't believe what she was hearing. She continued, "Both of you want to? You aren't weirded out by this or anything? Pulling my leg to make fun of me?"

Sam and Dean both had questioning looks on their faces. Dean asked in complete disbelief, "Make fun of you? What, no. Who hurt you?"

Y/N seemed to soften a bit as the situation started to sink in. She said, "Sorry. It's been kind of a while, you know? Not really eager to repeat mom's situation."

Sam, sensing more, asked, "When was your last relationship?"

Y/N's eyes trailed off, trying to remember, before settling as she said, "Uh, I don't think there was electricity yet."

Both brothers' eyes became wide as Dean blurted out, "How old are you?" This earned him a smack to the shoulder from Sam. Dean let out an "ouch" as he rubbed his arm, and Y/N laughed lightly before saying, "Old enough."

Sam finally broke the silence and called out to Y/N, causing her to pause and look at the two brothers. He continued, "We actually talked it out and are willing to give it a shot."

Silence.

Y/N blinked, as though she were trying to clear away debris from her sight and catch a glimpse of the real Winchesters. As she processed Sam's words, Dean asked, "Hey, you good?"

Y/N realized that she must have been quiet for too long. Nodding her head and trying to relax her body a bit, she said, "Yeah, um, sorry. It's just... Really?"

Y/N couldn't believe what she was hearing. She continued, "Both of you want to? You aren't weirded out by this or anything? Pulling my leg to make fun of me?"

Sam and Dean both had questioning looks on their faces. Dean asked in complete disbelief, "Make fun of you? What, no. Who hurt you?"

Y/N seemed to soften a bit as the situation started to sink in. She said, "Sorry. It's been kind of a while, you know? Not really eager to repeat mom's situation."

Sam, sensing more, asked, "When was your last relationship?"

Y/N's eyes trailed off, trying to remember, before settling as she said, "Uh, I don't think there was electricity yet."

As the evening wore on, the three of them settled in to have a heart-to-heart discussion about their unconventional arrangement. It was time to address any concerns, set ground rules, and establish expectations.

The atmosphere in the room was thick with tension and anticipation. Y/N, Sam, and Dean exchanged nervous glances as they broached the topic of their unique relationship. They knew that clarity and open communication were crucial to making this work.

The discussion began with a hint of awkwardness, but gradually, they delved deeper. Laughter broke out when they tackled the somewhat comical rule of "no touchy between brothers," an absurdity that lightened the mood. Y/N's infectious laugh brought a warmth to the room that was sorely needed.

Promises were made, not just for the sake of it, but because they genuinely cared about one another. Y/N assured the brothers that she wouldn't play favorites and would be fair in her affections. Sam and Dean, in return, vowed to treat her with respect and equality.

As the conversation progressed, it became clear that, despite their differences, they shared a strong bond and a willingness to make this unusual relationship function. The weight of uncertainty began to lift, replaced by a sense of relief and a growing feeling that they could navigate this together.

End Chapter.

💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜💜 This is the Female Reader-Insert Version of my Story, please consider taking a look at the Original with my OFC Saia.

Please comment & 💜

#supernatural #fanfic #supernatural fanfic #Dean x OFC x Sam #dean winchester #Fluff #Sam Winchester #smut #Hurt/Comfort #Reader-Insert #Fluff and Smut #supernatural smut #Self-Insert #Angst #Kitsune #injuries #Dean x Reader X Sam #polyamory

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spn-fanfic-reblog-writes · 2 years

Text

Cowboy

(OFC Insert)

Pairing: Sam x OFC!Alex x Dean (No Wincest. Poly/ENM)

Characters: Sam Winchester, OFC!Alex Morgenstern, Dean Winchester

Word Count:~750

Warning: None. Fluff with a touch of angst.

Author Notes: I watched Spn’s Tombstone episode and got inspired, and finally wrote it once I read @deancaskiss ‘ cowboy destiel fanfic Not Beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

Feedback is gold.

Alex sat and waited at the map room bobbing her right leg quickly, nervously. Sam looked up at her from his reading seeing her hands splayed flat on the table. He quirked an eyebrow and leaned towards her, “You okay?”

She looked at giving him a posed smile and nodded. “Just waiting,” she explained.

“What did you do?” Sam asked.

“Remember last week when I got you your early anniversary gift— those first edition lore books that you wanted?”

Sam smiled and looked her, his eyes darkening at the thought —such a dreamy smile for Alex to see; she almost felt lightheaded. She shook her head, “I did something similar for Dean but not books.”

Sam grinned and chuckled, wondering what she did and kind of excited to see Dean’s reaction. “What did you get him?”

“Remember how much he loves Dodge city and cowboys?” She asked.

He widened his eyes and facepalmed, “Oh my God, Alex, what did you get him? He is gonna be cowboy this, cowboy that for the next month. Wearing his hat no less.”

She grinned and spoke, her voice a bit husky, “I know.”

Sam looked a bit shocked and thought a moment, “You like him in his hat and boots, huh?”

She grinned a bit embarrassed, “I like him in his hat and boots, and then when we does that twange, mmm.” She quickly added, “I know he is gonna go cowboy crazy for a bit but totally worth it when he wakes up and you see how, hopefully, excited he gets.”

“What did you get him?”

She tried to hide her smile licking her lips, “Working replicas of Wyatt Earp’s and Doc Holliday’s guns, a print of a painting of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday, the movie poster of Tombstone signed by some of the cast members, and replica cowboy hats of Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday.”

Sam’s eyes widened with each item she spoke of. He put his head down in his hands on the table and grumbled, “We're doomed.”

“He’ll be happy,” she tried to justify. Her mouth drowned when she added, “I also found a movie theater close to here where you can buy time there to watch a movie, so I did Tombstone for him. “ She looked down at her hands and her face turned red because she just realized he had going to make everyone come see it with him, including the Sioux Falls gang. She smiled to herself.

“How often does he smile and laugh, truly?” She asked Sam.

He sighed and sat up looking at her, “True. Fine.”

She clapped, “Yay.”

Sam glared at her, “I’m going to get you back.”

She looked to her lap then at him, “Prank or bedroom?”

“I haven’t decided, maybe both,” he said matter-of-factly.

“Fuck,” she whispered to herself as she saw the wicked smirk on his face.

After twenty minutes in tense silence, you could hear Dean yell excitedly from his room. Alex grinned and stood up walking to the kitchen waiting for him.

“Alex,” Dean yelled. “Ale—“ he stopped when he saw her, he was wearing one of the new cowboy hates which Alex thought made him look even sexier. He wrapped his arms around her, trapping her, and lifted her up then passionately kissed her. She melted into his lips and hummed.

When he set her down, she felt a little dizzy and grinned.

Dean was flabbergasted, “Oh, Baby, I don’t deserve you. How did you—? Why?”

“They’re early anniversary gifts for you while it is next week, I couldn’t wait. I knew you’d love them. The—the guns are working replicas.”

Dean’s jaw dropped, “They’re working? I can use them in a hunt?”

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Baby,” Alex grinned at him.

“I’m gonna go shoot them,” Dean grinned like a little kid getting what he wanted on Christmas from Santa.

“The bullets are in that blue ammo box,” she called as he went back to his room.

Alex walked back over to Sam but stopped upon Dean rushing back out with a piece of paper in hand. “You rented a theater to watch Tombstone?” He asked incredulously.

“You said you always wanted to see it in theater,” she explained meekly. She could see Dean’s mind working and planning.

“How many seats are there?” He asked

“150,” she confirmed.

He turned around and got his cell out, “I’m inviting everyone!”

She continued walking back to Sam, put her hands on the table, tilted her head to one side and sighed. “We’re doomed.”

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Tag list:

@riley-phoenix @fluffiest-dreams @myloversgone

#dean winchester #sam winchester #supernatural fanfic #supernatural #spn poly #poly Winchester #anniversary #BIHH #blood in heaven and hell #ofc insert #ofc!alex #ofc!alex morgenstern #dean x ofc x sam #spn enm

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princessmisery666 · 1 year

Text

The Longest Time

Summary: For the longest time, Dean hasn't allowed himself to dream of a future, but Wynter changes things.

Warnings: fluff, flangst.

W/C: 6k

Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Eileen Leahy, OFC (Wynter).

Pairing: Dean Winchester x OFC (Wynter), Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy.

Notes: the finale didn’t happen; Chuck is gone.

A/N: @justagirlinafandomworld sent me this request, and the muses loved it. Yvette, thank you so much for the inspiration. I had a blast writing this, I Mary Sue’d Christmas, and I ain’t even sorry. 😍🤣

Betas: @deanwinchesterswitch thank you so much!! // all mistakes are my own.

Graphics: dividers by @talesmaniac89

Master Lists: Main // Dean Winchester

The Longest Time

Sam and Dean step out of the Impala in the bunker's garage, tired but happy to be home. Since Chuck’s defeat, it’s been monster-of-the-week type gigs, but it hasn’t made the fights any easier.

Sam opens the back door for Eileen and helps her out, kissing her when she’s on her feet, and Dean smiles fondly as he passes to the trunk.

For the longest time, Dean had given up on a future. He wasn’t living. He had been surviving, taking one breath after the next, going through the motions. Seeing his brother happy causes a flutter of restlessness in his chest, and he thinks of Wynter, likely sound asleep in her bed, and it grows into a bubble of excitement that wants to erupt, but he holds it back.

It’s almost midnight, so Dean doesn’t expect Wynter to be waiting up to greet them, but she was expecting them home, so he’s hopeful there are at least some delicious leftovers waiting in the kitchen.

“I hope Wynter made pie,” Dean muses aloud as they walk the corridors from the garage.

Sam rolls his eyes, “she always makes you pie when we’re gone longer than a day. She puts her anxiety into baking.”

“Well, her anxiety is delicious,” he jokes.

“Y’know,” Sam says, holding the door to the library open and motioning for Eileen to enter first while focusing on Dean. Before Sam even inhales to continue, Dean knows he’s about to start a lecture. “Eating this late is bad for…”

Eileen freezes with a loud gasp a few steps inside the room, interrupting the lecture. The boys hurry to follow, echoing her gasp of wonderment.

The bunker has been transformed into a spectacular Winter Wonderland. There’s a giant Christmas tree, the star on top as high as the balcony in the map room. Soft glowing lights twinkle around white and silver decorations. Glittery reindeer give the impression they are in flight. Plastic robins look as if they could burst into song; the fake snow on the tips of the branches they’re perched upon looks cold to the touch. The baubles glisten and sway slightly in the draft that always seems to be flowing through the room. Large boxes wrapped with silver bows sit below the tree, and Dean gazes with eager curiosity as to what they contain.

“Wow,” Sam says, and Dean agrees right along with him.

“Wynter’s been busy,” says Eileen, spinning slowly to take in the other decorations adorning the library. Larger versions of the galloping reindeer in the tree peek out from between the shelves, a jolly Santa sits on a miniature rocking chair in the middle of the table, and several more strands of sparkling lights are hanging from the ceiling.

Dean smiles as his heart swells. It’s beautiful. He’s never seen the bunker look so…cozy. Wynter has made it a home, one that now feels lived in and cherished. He clears his throat of unexpected emotion, coughing around a quick “Night, guys,” before swiftly walking away.

Leftovers forgotten, he heads straight for Wynter’s room, noting the trail of Christmas that leads him there. Her room is empty, door wide open, bed still made. The fizz of excitement is slightly dampened because he has a good idea of where she is and why.

His bedroom door is open, only enough to let a crack of light in and let him know she’s in there. “Wynter,” he softly calls, pushing the door open. His elation returns at the comforting sight in front of him.

Miracle lifts his head from Wynter’s lap, tail wagging, as he yawns. “Hey buddy,” Dean whispers as the dog jumps off the bed and bounds across the room to greet him. He scratches behind the dog's ears and under his chin while he stares at the sleeping woman in his bed.

The lamp beside Dean’s bed drapes Wynter in an amber glow. She’s propped up against his headboard, her chin resting on her chest, and his frayed and torn copy of The Odyssey lies open across her stomach.

“Damn,” he whispers. She’s as breathtaking as the new decor.

He notices the small red plaid Christmas trees on his desk, surrounded by mini elves with oversized hats covering their eyes, stopped by their large circular noses. He chuckles, thinking they’re kinda cute.

She’s cute. Cute, beautiful, kind, sweet, sexy, funny. She’s a retired hunter, a busted-up knee took her out of the field years ago, but she still does her part. Researches, answers calls, and organizes hunters. When the alternate universe hunters arrived, Sam called her in for help. She’d been there ever since.

Dean sighs, watching her chest rise and fall. He’s had years to see if there’s something more to their relationship, but there was always something in the way. Now that Chuck is gone, and Dean’s decisions are his own, it’s been on his mind more frequently, but apart from sharing a bed when the nightmares wake them, he’s been a saint.

He doesn’t remember crossing the room but finds himself gently brushing the hair off her face and picking up the book. She stirs, taking a deep breath and her eyes flutter open.

The smile she gives him is enough of a gift that he has no need for any of the brightly wrapped packages beneath the tree.

“Hey,” he whispers.

“Hi,” she says, stretching her whole body.

He sits beside her in an attempt not to look at where her oversized tee rides up her thigh. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep,” she says, shuffling to sit up straighter, “sorry.”

“Don’t be.”

It’s nice to come home to you in my bed. He doesn’t say it, but it must show on his face because, under the ambient lighting, he sees her cheeks tinge pink.

“Nightmare woke me up. I came to see if you were home,” she explains unnecessarily. He knows that’s why she’s in his bed. Other than falling asleep watching some cheesy horror movie together, there’s no other reason for her to be there.

“Wanna talk about it?” he asks, smoothing the wayward strands of hair that fell back onto her face.

She shakes her head, averting her gaze to look at her fidgeting hands in her lap. “I don’t remember it now,” she lies. She’s as easy to read as the book on his nightstand.

“I’m home now,” he smiles when she lifts her eyes again, “give me five minutes?”

It’s an invitation to stay, and he holds his breath while she deciphers his meaning. She nods, chewing her bottom lip worriedly, and he leans forward to kiss her forehead before getting to his feet.

He points at the dog, “keep her company for me, buddy,” he instructs, and Miracle jumps onto the bed to drape himself across her lap.

She smiles happily, stroking the dog. “Hurry back; it gets cold in here without you.”

Wynter flips a pancake just as the toaster pops, and Dean shuffles in, wearing the deadman’s robe and looking adorable in his sleepy state. It’s perfect timing, but she’s kind of mad at herself for not staying in bed and waking up beside him. She knows he wouldn’t have minded, but something about waking up next to him feels a little too intimate.

No one greets him while he pours his coffee, all of them long accustomed to knowing he’s grumpy until at least his fourth sip.

Wynter butters the hot slice of bread, adds it to the pile, and then Eileen plants a kiss on her cheek as she steals the fresh pancake from the pan and the last strip of real bacon from the plate. It’s fine. There’s a whole tray staying warm in the oven for when Dean’s ready to start the day.

Sam piles up his second plate with toast and fake ‘healthy’ bacon before dipping to kiss her cheek too. She chuckles, a happy warmth spreading through her that they are getting in the spirit and obliging her silly idea to spread some joy.

“It smells so good in here,” Dean says, announcing he’s ready to be spoken to.

Wynter chuckles, “bacon, toast, sausage, scrambled eggs, mushrooms, hash browns, and pancakes, come help yourself.”

Dean rushes over, excitedly rubbing his hands together, and stares at the feast awaiting him. Sam very deliberately clears his throat, and Dean turns to look at him.

“If you’re going to lecture me on my cholesterol, save it.”

Sam smirks, and rather than speak around a mouthful of food, he uses his knife to motion toward the ceiling, and Dean’s eyes follow.

She holds her breath while his sleepy brain processes what the mistletoe hanging above her means. Wetting her lips, she takes a tentative step toward him and leans in. Dean clears his throat, practically jumping toward her to deliver the lightest and quickest of kisses to her cheek, then turns to fill his plate, rocking on his heels and avoiding eye contact with her.

Disappointment floods through her like an icy drink, and she quickly switches off the burners. “I’m gonna take a shower,” she says to her own feet as she crosses the room.

Hanging mistletoe had been a stupid idea. She sees it now. Sam and Eileen played along, kissing her cheek every time they were under it, but clearly, Dean was uncomfortable, and she never wanted that.

Dean hasn’t seen Wynter since breakfast, there are only so many places he can hide, but he’s doing a pretty good job of avoiding her.

Ridiculously, Dean pops his head around the kitchen door before entering. He doesn’t want to avoid her altogether; he’s only trying to prevent being alone with her. But he’s safe; Sam is sitting at the table, reading a book.

Dean notices the mistletoe is suspiciously absent as he heads for the coffee pot.

“She made me take it down,” Sam explains without being asked.

“Huh? What?” Dean asks, feigning innocence.

“Said she didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable and asked me to take it down,” Sam shrugs while Dean fills his cup.

“She didn’t… I wasn’t…”

“Dude, you were a deer caught in headlights!”

“I know,” Dean groans, joining him at the table. “I was an idiot. But I don’t want our first kiss to be some holiday gimmick. It should be something special.”

“So you do want to kiss her?”

“What?” Dean says, shocked Sam even has to ask. “Of course I do.”

“Well, that was a missed opportunity.” Sam stares at him expectantly.

Dean scrubs a hand down his face. “Since the whole Lisa and Ben disaster, I never let myself think of a future,” he sighs wearily. That debacle still weighs heavy on him. “For the longest time, I’ve accepted that hunting and being here with you was my happily ever after. But…” he pauses, unsure how to explain it without sounding like a chick flick cliche.

“But you see a future with Wynter?”

“I don’t know, maybe,” he says, shrugging. He doesn’t want to say it out loud. Telling someone your wish is a surefire way to make it not come true, besides if it all goes to shit, he’d have plausible deniability. Chuck’s no longer writing his story, but that doesn’t change who he is. “I do know that whatever happens, I want to do it right.”

“I’m pretty sure she feels the same way about you.”

“You mean Eileen is pretty sure?”

“Exactly,” Sam smiles like a lovesick puppy at the mention of his girlfriend. The smile quickly drops, and he looks sorrowful. Dean knows he’s going to be the bearer of bad news before he even utters a word. “But maybe you should tell Wynter that, sooner rather than later,” Sam suggests, “she’s going on a date.”

“When the hell did that happen?” he grumbles.

“Probably shortly after you shot her down,” Sam guesses with a shrug.

Wynter checks the contents of her bag as she leaves her room; purse, phone, keys, lip gloss, and pepper spray - can never be too careful. She rounds the corner and slams directly into a solid chest. She stumbles back, staying on her feet only because Dean catches her around the waist and drags her into him, crushing her bag between them.

Dean utters a string of curses as she unravels herself from his arms and her bag spews its contents across the floor at their feet.

“Sorry,” they say simultaneously.

“I got it,” he grumbles, halting her descent to pick up her items. He kneels at her feet, collecting up her lip gloss, keys, and phone and putting them back in her bag. He holds the pepper spray and looks up at her. “Expecting trouble?”

“No,” she frowns, “but can’t be too careful nowadays.”

He stands straight again, handing back her bag but holding out the can. “If you’re not sure about this guy,” he says, tugging the spray back when she makes a grab for it. “I can come, sit in the back, and keep an eye on him.”

She doesn’t need to wonder who told him. There’s no reason for it to be a secret, but she feels weird going to meet another man after having spent the night in Dean’s bed, as if she’s doing something wrong. Though she knows her only error was assuming her feelings were reciprocated.

“No,” she says too quickly. “Dates are awkward enough. I don’t need to add you looking over my shoulder.”

“If it’s awkward, maybe that’s a sign,” he shrugs.

“Dating advice from Dean Winchester. Must be a Christmas phenomenon.”

He laughs, and she mimics him, feeling the buzz of excitement she gets whenever her words or actions make the seasoned hunter smile.

“It might not be awkward, but I’d be less tense and nervous if you weren’t there.”

He ponders it for a moment, holding her stern gaze but finally relents, features softening to a reassuring look. “Can I at least give you a ride to wherever you're meeting this guy?”

It’s a not-so-subtle attempt to ask where she will be. She knows he worries, and she’s not one to lay unnecessary weight on his shoulders. “We’re just going to the Coffee Bean.”

“What a cheap ass,” Dean scoffs, “couldn’t even spring for a nice dinner.”

She chuckles at his apparent disgust, “coffee was my idea, less pressure.”

His brow raises as does his volume, “You feel like this guy is pressuring you?”

“No, Dean. I just meant it’s more informal.”

“Oh, okay, got it.” He rubs a hand around the back of his neck. “Well, um, have fun, I guess,” he says, stepping around her.

“Dean,” she calls as he reaches the next corner.

He stops, spinning to face her again, “yeah?”

“A ride would be nice,” she says, and as the words spill out, her heart cracks just a little. If Dean has no problem driving her to see another man, then her assumption that he sees her as nothing more than a friend is firmly confirmed.

Dean steals glances at Wynter as he drives. She looks pretty, light makeup rings her eyes, making them brighter, but she still looks natural, like it was effortless. Sitting beside him in the Impala, he could almost convince himself that she’d made the effortless effort for a date with him - until they approach the Coffee Bean.

“That’s him,” she smiles subtly, pointing out a tall, dark-haired man nervously scanning the street. Dean slows as they pass to get a better look at the guy - to know who he needs to murder if he turns out to be an asshole - and they lock eyes through the window. Other than the too-closely set eyes, the guy looks like he walked off a magazine cover. Everything is too perfect, too polished. Hair neatly cropped, jeans, button-down, and jacket that looks professionally pressed, shoes gleaming in the late afternoon sun, and Dean holds back a scoff. There’s also something about Mr. GQ’s stance…ugh, military. Dean’s not sure which is worse, a male model or an ex-grunt.

“Point one for Mr. Tall Dark and Handsome,” Wynter interrupts his mental assessment as Dean pulls onto the next block, “he showed up.”

“He’d be a fool not to,” Dean says, turning to give her a sincere smile.

She returns it, shying away but masking it as unfastening her lap belt. “Thanks for the ride.”

“No problem.”

He watches her get out and rush to the sidewalk, slowing her step as she nears the corner. She smooths down her coat and squares her shoulders before continuing, and Dean feels his gut twist with every step she takes away from him.

He knows it’s wrong, and he should head home. Preferably via a liquor store, but curiosity gets the better of him. Besides, he tells himself he should stay close by in case she needs him.

By the time he’s found a parking spot and walked back to the coffee shop, they have their drinks and are seated at a table in the middle of the room. They seem to only have eyes for each other, she’s talking, and the guy looks like he’s genuinely listening.

“Sammy, I need a favor,” Dean says as soon as the call connects.

Sam sighs, “Ryan Barnes, retired marine, currently a teacher at the naval academy, excellent service record, pays his taxes, owns his own home, no living relatives.”

“What? How did you…”

“She’s not stupid, Dean. She asked me to do all the necessary checks too.”

“So she’s serious about this guy?” Dean panics, watching through the window as she takes a sip of her coffee to stifle a warm smile.

“Not yet,” Sam explains, “it’s only a coffee date.”

“Only a coffee date? You say that like it means something.”

Sam’s eye roll is in his tone. “A coffee date is a test. It’ll last two hours, two and a half maximum. It’s pressureless; no expectations from either side. It’s just to sort of prove you are who you say you are.”

Dean feels better for the briefest of moments, that is, until Wynter laughs at her purportedly upstanding and perfectly respectable date. He’s clearly passing the test. Dean hopes Ryan is committing everything to memory, all her eye-crinkling smiles and the light touch on his arm.

“Dean?” Sam enquires.

“Yeah, I’m still here,” he says, sitting at a table outside the Coffee Bean. He’s not in her line of sight, but he can see her reflected in the mirror behind the counter. If she looks up, she’ll notice him, but the pair are too enthralled with each other, or so it seems.

“Stop spying on her.”

“What? I’m not,” Dean stammers, “I gotta go,” before hanging up.

He tries to recall the first time he met Wynter but can’t. He remembers it was through Bobby. He must have called her in for help with a case, and then she was always at the other end of the phone, backup when they needed it without question. It’s strange he doesn’t remember their first meeting but knows he’d be lost without her now.

Ryan is handsome and funny. He’s attentive and seems to be genuinely interested in what she has to say. He’s actively listening, not just waiting for his turn to talk, but knowing Dean is watching, she can’t help but compare them.

While Ryan recounts a funny story about one of the cadets in his class, she ponders how he’d fare against a vampire. He’s well-built and athletically slim. He’s run a marathon or two, but she wonders if he’d run and leave her behind if they encountered a ghost. His arms are toned, muscles noticeable but subtle beneath his shirt, but would those arms hold her tight and soothe her after a nightmare? Especially as she couldn’t explain the horrors that haunt her, rising like demons in her sleep. There are no dark circles under his eyes, indicating he sleeps well, and she’s curious to know if he’d forgo sleep to drink coffee with her in the kitchen, talking about nothing and everything to avoid closing her eyes again.

Ultimately, she’s wondering if he could replace Dean. Even as the thought occurs, she stomps it down, realizing no one will understand or know her as well as Dean does.

The subject of her thoughts pulls his jacket tight around his neck; he must be freezing sitting outside. She wants to go out and hug him, give him her warmth, chase away his concerns and tell him that she’d rather be on a date with him instead of the perfectly charming man sitting in front of her.

While some consider it foolish, she’s always felt kissing under the mistletoe is a cute and fun holiday tradition. She had hoped that Dean might use the opportunity to extend the tender forehead kisses to something more. The brief kiss he’d placed on her cheek let her know their affection for each other was not on the same level. While her feelings have grown into something more romantic, his still appear to be firmly in the friend zone. Although, the nervousness he showed afterward was odd…

Focus. She scolds herself, bringing her attention back to the room and what Ryan is saying.

They simultaneously stand, and Dean checks his watch. It’s been almost three hours. Ryan helps her into her coat, and Dean knows he needs to disappear before she sees him. He skedaddles around the corner, heading back toward Baby.

His phone vibrates in his pocket as he crosses the street, and he pulls it out to see Wynter’s name flashing at him.

“Hey,” he answers, trying to sound casual and not as put out as he feels.

“If you’re done spying,” she says, mildly perturbed, “can I get a ride home?”

Fuck. He should have known she’d clocked him at some point. Just because she’s not in the field anymore doesn’t mean she still doesn’t have hunter instincts. She’d have checked her surroundings, even if Dean didn’t see her do it. “Yea, um, I’m two blocks over.”

He rests on Baby’s hood while he waits for her, watching as she strolls toward him. She looks lighter - happier - maybe this guy left an impression.

“I’m sorry,” he says, as soon as she’s close enough, “I didn’t mean…”

“It’s fine,” she says, waving him off. “It’s nice to know you care enough to worry about me.”

“I do,” he agrees, rushing to open the door for her. “I know I rarely say it, but I do care about you.”

“You don’t have to say it, Dean,” she reassures him, slipping her hand over his that sits on top of the door. “You check in when you’re on hunts, so I don’t worry and make sure the bunker is stocked with my favorite treats. You let me sleep in your bed when I have nightmares and stay awake with me when those nightmares scare me enough not to want to close my eyes again. You made me a tape of my favorite songs, even though they’re not all classic rock, and now we can add spying on my dates to make sure I’m safe. So you don’t need to say it. I know you do.”

He stares at her for a moment, wondering how she hasn’t figured it out yet. That’s his love language or whatever sappy saying the kids use nowadays. Everything she just said is how he shows her he wants to explore their relationship. Perhaps he does need to say it. Still, she’s never been a shy woman, and she just went on a date with another guy. If she wanted him, Dean’s sure she’d have said something.

His internal turmoil extends too long, and she folds herself into the car without another word. He doesn’t want to go home and go off to separate rooms for the rest of the night. He knows that’s what she’ll do. After the mistletoe mishap this morning, she’ll hide in her bedroom instead of watching gory horror movies with him.

As he rounds the car, he wonders if suggesting a Christmas movie will encourage her not to hide from him. But a stroke of genius strikes him as he slips behind the wheel.

“So I was thinking,” Dean starts, smiling, “those elves on my desk look a little lost. Wanna help me pick out some more decorations for my room?”

Her face lights up as bright as Christmas illuminations, “I’d love to.”

While shopping for decorations, neither mentioned her date, but it was slowly driving Dean insane. They’d come across the mistletoe section in the store, and he realized he didn’t know if she’d kissed Ryan goodbye. Now that’s all he can think about.

He’s sure Ryan wouldn’t have floundered and missed an opportunity to kiss her like he had.

“Dean,” Wynter calls, snapping her fingers in front of his face.

He shakes his head, refocusing his eyes on her across the booth from him. “Sorry.”

“Where’d you go?” she asks, taking a bite of her burger, extra onion just like him.

He chuckles, “I was regretting not buying that polar bear,” he lies. “It would have looked awesome next to Miracle’s bed.”

“It would,” she agrees, “wanna go back for it?”

“Nah,” he shrugs, taking a bite of his burger.

The food gets stuck in his throat as her phone lights up, vibrating against the table, and she smiles, reading the messenger’s name. She quickly swipes the phone, using a non-burger-greased finger, and reads the message before focusing back on Dean with a goofy grin. It’s a sweet smile but leaves a sour taste in his mouth.

“Isn’t he supposed to wait three days or something?” he chokes, sipping his beer.

Wynter rolls her eyes, “not in this century, Winchester,” she teases, “and not when we’re as old as we are.”

“Hey.” He feigns offense that goes unnoticed. As she swiftly types a reply, he grumbles, “Speak for yourself; I ain’t old.”

“I kinda like being older,” she responds, stashing the phone in her pocket. “I’m more comfortable in my own skin. I feel like I know myself better and know what I want.”

“And Ryan is what you want?”

Eyes squinting suspiciously for a minute, she stares at him. It doesn’t take her long to make the connection, though she asks for clarification, “Sam?”

“Sam,” he nods once.

“And?”

“And what?”

“What do you think?”

“It’s not about what I think,” he counters, “what do you think? Although the goofy smile kinda already answered that for me.”

At the mention of said smile, it returns. “He was nice and seemed genuine. Kind, sweet, funny…”

She trails off, and Dean’s question of ��But?” almost drowns out her deep sigh.

“But I don’t want to live a lie,” she explains, refusing to meet his eyes but masking it by dipping and eating cold fries. “I’ve lived through too much, seen too much to have to hide or sugarcoat it. I shouldn’t have to.”

“I get it,” he agrees, “you should be able to explain your nightmares to someone and have them understand it’s not just childish fears.”

She nods, a grateful smile that he understands. “Exactly, but forcing someone into our world just to feel less lonely would be wrong.”

That twists a knot in his heart. She shouldn’t be lonely. He’s right there. He puts down the last chunk of his burger, suddenly feeling nauseous. “You’re lonely?” He doesn’t quite stutter, but the acid in his stomach churns, and he has to work to keep it from rising.

She meets his eyes, and he must look as sick as he feels because she quickly assures, “no, no,” shaking her hands, “that was a poor choice of words.”

She waits until he takes a deep breath and polishes off his beer. He doesn’t have words to ask her to explain, yet she seems to understand he needs it.

“I love being at the bunker with you,” she smiles softly, and while their eye contact lingers, he sees her school her expression as she quickly adds, “and Sam and Eileen. I guess what I mean is I shouldn’t drag someone into our world for a little intimacy.”

Wynter fixes her eyes to his, and he can see how much she’s willing him to understand. He does - more than she realizes. He wants to offer her intimacy and all that goes along with it. He wants to offer himself. But at the moment, he doesn’t know how to say it without sounding sleazy or like it’d be a temporary arrangement.

Dean’s phone rings and startles them both out of their loaded stare. “Hey, Sammy.”

“Where are you guys? It’s been like eight hours?” he frets.

“We’re heading back now,” Dean says, somewhat regretfully. Wherever that moment could have led, it’s lost now.

Dean sits at the head of the table after carving the turkey that looks like something the Lost Boys had conjured in Neverland. Sam’s to his right, Wynter to his left, Miracle at his feet, his family gathered around the table, set and decorated as if they were expecting Royalty.

Hums and sated sighs of contentment filter around the room, everyone speechless as they taste another item Wynter has prepared. Dean agrees and echoes every single one, but the restless thrum rises in his gut again, watching everyone tuck into their dinner. The food, the day, the moment, it’s perfect. Yet, it isn’t complete. He wants to lean over and give Wynter a firm, but casual and familiar kiss, the same way Sam delivers one to Eileen, except he can’t.

“Has everyone got a drink?” Wynter asks, pulling him out of his head. There are grunts, and yeses exchanged. She nods, fretting, “is it all hot enough?”

Dean slips his hand over hers, squeezing it when she turns her palm up and meets his eyes, “it’s all perfect, relax.”

Her smile is tender and thankful until it turns teasing. She leans closer and whispers, “there’s a whole tray of bacon-wrapped fries stashed away for us for our movie marathon later.”

I love you sits on the tip of his tongue. Instead, he says, “you’re awesome.”

For the longest time, he never allowed himself to fantasize about something as ordinary and traditional as a family Christmas, but as he washes down his food with a sip of eggnog, he’s already looking forward to next year.

Dean looks at each person in turn. Bess smiles lovingly at Garth, who’s watching the kids. Gertie leads her brothers in making Miracle perform tricks for chunks of turkey. Jody steps between Alex and Claire before whatever they are discussing explodes into an argument. Doug, the third, feeds Donna a spoonful of bread pudding. Sam accepts a gift from Eileen, kissing her before he even tears open the paper wrapping. The room is rife with joy and smiles, and the delicious aromas of Christmas dinner still fill the air.

But Wynter is suspiciously absent. He’d watched her stalk off twenty or so minutes ago. Donna had given her a gift, an expensive sweater. Wynter’s eyes had welled with tears, and she’d yanked Donna into a tight embrace that lasted almost a full minute. Dean knew because he’d held his breath the entire time, mentally berating himself for not having bought her a gift. Shortly after she’d left the room, Dean assumed she was going to the bathroom or to bring out more food - that he had no idea where she was storing - but she hadn’t reappeared.

He finds her washing the dishes in the kitchen. “There you are,” he says to her back, walking down the stairs.

He sees her raise her arms and swipe at her face with her forearm, but she doesn’t turn to look at him. “Everything okay?” she asks, and he hears the unspoken “I’m fine,” she puts behind it, “someone need something?”

“Everyone’s fine,” he says and hears her try to mask her sniffle under his words. “Hey,” he worries, tugging on her elbow, “what’s wrong?” She doesn’t hesitate to turn to him, dragging her soapy hands out of the sink. Tears streak her cheeks, and he immediately cups her face to thumb them away. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing, I’m being silly,” she smiles, chewing her bottom lip while he cocks his brow to tell her he needs more explanation. “I’m about to go full chick flick on you,” Wynter teases, reaching for a towel to dry her hands.

“Hit me with it. I’ve survived heaven, hell, purgatory,… well, you know. I’m sure your chick flick moment won’t kill me.”

“I’m happy,” she admits, “the happiest I’ve been for the longest time, and it just got a little overwhelming.”

“You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop?”

“Exactly.”

“It won’t,” he promises, “I won’t let it.” He doesn’t care what it takes; selling his soul, sacrificing himself, a spell, anything, he’ll do it to make sure this day stays perfect for her. They stare at one another for a long silent moment, the pads of his thumb interrupting the steady flow of happy tears, and he thinks it the most beautiful he’s ever seen her.

Guilt traps a lump of air in his throat. She’d done so much to make him happy the past few days – created a winter wonderland in the bunker, snuck back to the store and bought the polar bear for Miracle, spent days preparing the delicious food they’d consumed, including special treats just for him – while he hadn’t even been able to settle on a single gift for her. He’d tried, but nothing seemed to convey his feelings toward her.

“I didn't buy you a gift,” he admits.

“Seeing you smile is a gift, Dean. I don’t need anything else.”

“You sure?” he asks, somewhat cockily, “cause there is something that I want to give you.”

Timidly he draws her closer, giving her every opportunity to pull away, but she lets him lead. Her eyes slip closed a millisecond before his do, and he holds his breath as lips as soft as velvet brush his like a flutter of butterfly wings before she pushes up on her toes, leaning into him. It’s tender and sweet, and Dean lingers until his lungs burn. Her tongue swipes his lips as she licks away a tear when he pulls back.

“I take it back,” she laughs, a shaky nervousness in her tone, “this is the happiest I’ve ever been.”

He chuckles, exhaling into the small space between them. “I think we might be able to ramp it up to RomCom level,” he teases.

“Is that so?”

“Yep, I think I know how I can make you happier,” Dean smirks, reaching behind him to pull a battered bouquet of mistletoe from his back pocket.

Wynter laughs, “Here I was thinking that you were fixing to get us on Santa’s naughty list.”

“Oh, that will be later.” Moving closer, he holds the greenery above their heads, meeting her mouth in a searing kiss. Dean drops his arm, letting the sprigs fall to the floor as he cups the back of her head. His tongue slips past her parted lips, and the restlessness that’s plagued him for weeks dissipates against the sweetness of eggnog and nutmeg. Her fingers tug at his belt loops, yanking him tight against her. It’s only a kiss, but he feels a sense of serene delirium.

Staring into her glistening eyes as they breathlessly pull apart, he realizes he just kickstarted his future.

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Master Lists: Main // Dean Winchester

Requests are open, info here.

#Dean Winchester #Christmas #Dean Winchester fluff #Supernatural #SPN #Dean Winchester x OFC #Sam Winchester x Eileen Leahy #spn #dean winchester #fluff #Dean Winchester flangst #flangst #christmas fic

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lokigonnakmsforbucky · 1 year

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Sex with Sam Winchester Would Include:

Okay, let's get something straight here. People would underestimate how good sam was in bed until they slept with him. Because Sam was excellent in bed.

Way kinker than he looks... that being said, he loves to try out new things with you and takes safe words VERY seriously during roleplaying. Your safety and well-being come first to him.

This man Worshipped your body, every single thing would be worshipped, every scar, stretchmark, freckle. He loved your body and he wanted to make sure you knew that.

"You are so beautiful...baby"

Lots of kisses

Especially on your neck, he loves giving you hickeys

Don't forget your thighs...Sam loves biting, kissing, and marking you up right there.

But...this man is godsent for oral and using his fingers. Of course, he gives it for his partner's pleasure, but it gives Sam so much pleasure to himself.

Plus, the way he makes his finger move in you. Makes you squirm under him, and man... he loves to watch you squirm.

"Look how much your squirming baby...I'm just using my fingers."

You being under him squirming around, he loves watching you like that. Because your doing it all for him.

This man, would eat you out like it was his LAST MEAL.

Like you would already be feeling like you’re were gonna have a orgasm and he only used his fingers and his mouth.

Shower sex to save “water”

Blowjobs that literally makes Sam think he is gonna die because of how good you make him feel.

His hands would be on the back of your head while you take him.

“Just like that babygirl.”

His nicknames for you would always be “baby” , “babygirl.”

Sam would make you look at him while he fucks you, his hand around your neck choking you.

He would sometimes go slow and hard, or fuck you like the earth is ending

After all the action, aftercare was a MUST

Sam does aftercare amazingly.

Lots of cuddles, bath times, him cooking for you, watching tv.

Sam gave you all the care you needed.

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spnbaby-67 · 8 months

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Behind The Lens

Masterlist for series.

Summary.

"Behind the Lens" is a love story set in the summer of 2023, focusing on Jensen Ackles, a renowned actor facing the burden of stardom. Jensen's relentless dedication to his career has left him overwhelmed and disconnected from his true self. He's caught between his desire for a break and the pressure to maintain his public image. Through conversations with his manager, Darren, Jensen grapples with the need to find balance between his demanding career and personal well-being. This story explores the challenges of fame and the quest to rediscover one's passion in the entertainment industry. When he crosses path with a photographer Saamiya Siddique will she be able to help him be the man he used to be?

HI everyone, this is a story that I came up with after four years of not writing. I can't believe I am back to writing again, and I'm happy to be. I missed my secret world that I could just jump into and escape reality for awhile. I work at a hospital now and i'm mostly nights so me being a night person, writing is slowly coming back. That being said, please take this as a practice series for what is to come later, I may redo some of my older series once I figure out how to set up my tumbler page again. Remember, this is a FANFICTION, not real life, therefor Danneel is not in the series, but note I do love her just the same. I think she is incredible person and helps keep Jensen grounded, and for that I am thankful. Please do not copy my work and use it as yours, you can share and reblog it that helps me out. If you want to be tagged please let me know, and i'll be happy to do so. I'll have warnings on each chapter, This is also a cross over with the king of bollywood Shahrukh Khan as Saamiya's Father. So lets see how this goes shall we?

Pairings: Jensen Ackles and OFC (Sammiya Siddiqui, Shahrukh Khan, Jared Padalecki, Gen Padalecki, Jo Siddiqui (Saamiya's SIster and best friend)

Chapters

One

Two